Waiting

Written while faced with life.

I’ve been quiet for quite a while…
That just won’t do any longer.
It’s the dark dead of night right now – an unearthly hour for the ordinary college student on a week day – but it’s only at times like these when my mind becomes clear and I can really say what I mean.
I guess I didn’t know how or what to say at first, but I’ve decided that I really just need to be honest.
Honest with myself.
Honest with God.

I have quite a few things to say.

I was at Costco a week or so ago, helping the family with an ordinary grocery run, when something rather strange happened. It was coming on lunch time, and, unwilling to resist a voracious hunger any longer, I stepped in line to order something – anything. Engrossed in my own thoughts, it took about five minutes before I realized who was in front of me. Staring up at me with a strange look in her eyes was a young girl, probably eight or so, who, after a second glance, I realized bore a very strange resemblance to myself. The same dark hair, light eyes, white skin (alright, she was a little bit tanner than me - that's not hard), round face – I took little notice of her at first, but, after a moment’s thought, I took a second look. There was something in her eyes that was very odd, and yet somehow familiar. I tried to pretend like I wasn’t looking at her – but she didn’t even attempt to stop looking at me. It was really rather awkward at first. I felt my hair, looked down at my shirt – just to make sure that I hadn’t drastically spilled anything. It was then that I realized that I had once had that look – a longing, waiting look. She paid for her food quickly (the exact same order as me!) – and then she was gone. But I remembered her.

When I was younger I used to wait for a lot of things. Being tall (I guess I’ve never quite achieved that – although comparatively, I’ve gotten somewhere), being able to do things, go places, have adventures, Prince Charming… the usual. I used to wait for life to happen, and it seemed so far away.

And it seems that I’m waiting again.

I’ve never liked waiting. Throughout most of my life I haven’t had to, so I guess I never learned how to rightfully cope with it. I’ve always got through things – through life – as fast as it was in my power to do. And I’ve never seemed to lack for “power”. With the help of two dedicated parents, my sister and I got through eight grades in four years when we were very young – I’ve worked my way through life and work with a rock solid determination. My life has never lacked for adventure – and although change has never been easy for me, I’m far more accustomed to that than this waiting.

There’s a lot of things I’m waiting for right now. Waiting for next semester. Waiting for school to end. Waiting for progress. Waiting to mature in my faith… to know what to do with my life. Waiting to someday go home.

I guess what I need is patience. In the words of someone much smarter than me… I want to know the ending, of things hoped for, and not seen – but I guess that’s the point of hoping anyway.

Sometimes I think that I’m trying too hard. We’re told to strive, to leave behind every encumbrance and the sin that so easily entangles and set our sights on things above. And yet I’ve realized that I can’t even set my sights alone. It seems that the things I’ve struggled with my whole life never seem to go away. . I know that He will complete the work that He began - but I can’t see much progress as yet! I can’t see the road ahead. I want to know. I want to be sure. I want to feel that I am on the right path, headed the right direction - that I am somehow in the right. And maybe that’s the problem. I want to feel. I want to know. And yet He hasn’t chosen to reveal what it is that I seek.

Sometimes I almost feel as if I ought to know. As if I have a right to understand what my life should look like. I know that I am called to something – to use my life to His glory in some way. And yet I find it hard to see beyond the small patch of light that is my current existence. I am blind, but for the next step directly in front of me. Even that is, at times, hazy.

Maybe that is the Christian walk. Maybe it’s meant to be one step at a time, that our faith might grow ever stronger in the One who does know what lies ahead.

I don’t know how to make decisions. I've never been very good at that. The life I have led has been far different than I would ever have planned for myself - I know that this is God's sovereignty, and I feel that I now have a calling to fulfill. But I don’t how to decide the course of my life - and I feel so hindered by the fact that He doesn’t directly speak to me. My humanity desires some sort of tangible two-way communication. I’m programmed for direct communication.

That’s not really true, though, is it?
He programmed me Himself.

I have always known my goal - to glorify God in all that I do, and make Him famous. Everything within me cries that is the truth. But how? For all my battles against practicality… there is an intense desire to know what true Christian faith - what my Christian faith, my life, my work, ought to look like. I don’t know where to begin.

I know that he knows what I’m destined for. But I’m afraid that I’ll miss it, that I’ll be too busy to notice. Or even to care. That apathy would somehow take over and control me. I pray that it would not be! Apathy has to be one of the most destructive forces that can overtake a believer. It is an enemy to truth. Not that it directly defies it… but in its very essence it is designed to render the saved heart worthless - to make it search for happiness, for joy in the things of this world until it is of no further use to the kingdom.
And this, my friends, is my deepest, darkest fear.
To miss it.
To waste it.

I don’t want to waste anything that the Lord throws my way. John Piper wrote the poem, when he was still a boy. These are the first four lines:

Long I searched for the earth’s hidden meaning,
Long as a youth my search was in vain.
Now as I approach my last years waning,
My search I must begin again.

Piper himself says this:

"Across the forty years that separate me from this poem I can hear the fearful
refrain, "I’ve wasted it! I’ve wasted it!" Somehow there had been wakened in me
a passion for the essence and the main point of life. The ethical question
"whether something is permissible" faded in relation to the question, "what is
the main thing, the essential thing?" The thought of building a life around
minimal morality or minimal significance - a life defined by the question, "What
is permissible?" - felt almost disgusting to me. I didn’t want a minimal life. I
didn’t want to live on the outskirts of reality. I wanted to understand the main
thing about life and pursue it."

I want - and the word seems too weak - to live radically. And yet I know that ‘radical’ for me will look different than ‘radical’ for someone else. I do know this. I have yet to define what ‘different’ is, though.

So I’m busy waiting. Watching and waiting. Watching and waiting and choosing joy in the process.

There are a few things that I know for sure. I am saved by the blood of Jesus Christ, the Son of God and God himself, who died on a cross to save His chosen people from their sins, that they might live no longer for themselves, but for Him. He came to glorify Himself. And He was glorified. He was resurrected on the third day, and is at the right hand of the Father in heaven. I am free. These things I know. I will never cease to know them, for they are written on my soul with an indelible ink.

I’ve made a decision, friends: I've decided to let Him take charge of my life - for I know I will make a sad mess of it myself. I've decided to relinquish hold. Perhaps, with divine assistance, I might be able to let go of the steering wheel of my life that I have gripped so tightly... the wheel that I never really drove anyway. I never took one step on my own.
That's a comforting thought.
Perhaps, if I could look away from myself for a moment... perhaps if I could somehow let go... I might be able to converse more freely with the true Driver.

Now I'm getting excited.

As it seems to have become a tradition of mine to include some encouraging lyrics that I've heard throughout the week, I think I'll post some (again, from my favorite writer, Sara Groves... if you've never heard her, you really should) that have particularly encouraged me as of late. I'm even learning to play this one... (!)
It's called Painting Pictures of Egypt.

I don't want to leave here
I don't want to stay
It feels like pinching to me
Either way
And the places I long for the most are
The places where I've been
They are calling out to me
Like a long lost friend

It's not about losing faith
It's not about trust
It's all about comfortable
When you move so much
And the place I was wasn't perfect but I had
Found a way to live
And it wasn't milk or honey, but then...
Neither is this

I've been painting pictures of Egypt
Leaving out what it lacks
The future feels so hard and I want to go back
But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I've learned
And those roads were closed off to me
While my back was turned

The past is so tangible
I know it by heart
Familiar things are never easy
To discard
And I was dying for some freedom but now I
Hesitate to go
I am caught between the promise and
The things I know

I've been painting pictures of Egypt
Leaving out what it lacks
The future feels so hard and I want to go back...
But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I've learned
And those roads were closed off to me
While my back was turned

If it comes too quick...
I may not appreciate it.
Is that the reason behind all this time and sand
If it comes too quick...
I may not recognize it
Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?

Sometimes it feels as though I just can't hear Him. Sometimes it feels as though He's forgotten. I am caught between His promise and the things I know. And yet, that's the trouble... my life can't be governed by what I feel. If it were... you can't even imagine what a colossal disaster that would be.
And so I am thankful that I'm incapable.
I am thankful that I don't have to go it alone.
I'm excited to see what's in store for me.
And I'm ready to just be still and listen and wait. And hope.

I don’t have to know it all.

Phil. 3:7-16 " I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. All of us who are mature should take such a view of things. And if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you. Only let us live up to what we have already attained."
(emphasis mine)

Now there's tangible communication for you. Let us press on - let us live up to what we have already attained: the salvation that comes through faith in Christ Jesus and the hope of heaven. We have a glorious hope. A hope that surpasses understanding.

… how can I keep from singing?

Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus
Just to take Him at His word
Just to rest upon His promise
Just to know, "Thus saith the Lord".

... Oh for grace to trust Him more.

Las Buenas Nuevas

In English, that means the good news. Here's the good news about what's going on (just to keep my readers - if I have any - well posted!).

Well, sometimes it proves to be difficult figuring out what you're going to do with life. I have found this to be true. So, I evaded the question for a while - but the question has now hit me smack dab between the eyes and I must face up to it, what with ASU and my last two years of college coming up in the fall and all. So... I have made a few crucial decisions, and I feel much, MUCH better.

That's usually a good sign.

Anyway, as some of you (might!) know... I have, for the past two years, been pursuing a degree in education. Bilingual elementary education, to be quite exact. However, as the very thought of standing up in front of kids of any age made me quake in my boots, I was beginning to question that decision. It went from very subtle, half-conscious thinking, to conscious thinking, to a brand new decision. Brand new decisions, I do confess - change in GENERAL - has proved extremely hard for me, but this I have learned: that God is sovereign even over the little details of my life .... like what I'm going to do with the rest of it, and all that good stuff. So, I put it in His hands, and I am now officially pursuing a degree in Spanish, after which I will officially be qualified for a translator's certificate.

Now that's my kind of job.

More than anything, though, I'm a writer. I always have been. Since age 3 I've told my family that I was going to be an author and an illustrator. The illustrating went nowhere, since I figured out very early on that I have no artistic abilities whatsoever. But the writing has stuck. So, as soon as I am graduated with a B.A., a legal adult and the normal age for a college kid (I've decided to embrace my age and forget that it was ever a source of great insecurity), I'm going to, Lord willing, pursue an Associate's in Screenwriting. ! ! ! Everything within me shouts YES!!!! That sounds like the best two years of my life, and I'm duly excited. Maybe I'll use it - maybe not. Point is, I'm doing it anyway. And I don't think it's by accident, either. :)

In fact, I know it's not.
And that's a comforting thought, now isn't it?

Anyhow, now that I have announced the major change, let's talk about small things. I'm taking my first full time semester online at Rio Salado (I've been full time at CGCC for a while now), and am fighting many battles against the grand mystery that is technology. I said fighting - but I'm losing a lot of them. :) I guess it just takes practice. Procrastination, too, is a constant pitfall - one that I don't try hard enough to avoid. God is good, though, and I haven't forgotten any major assignments or papers, as of yet. :)

Secondly, I'm teaching (with plenty help) an Advanced ADVANCED Spanish class for a select few that gather weekly at Pan de Vida, East Valley's Hispanic mission. My students (homeschoolers, and, as my Hispanic friends would say, 'muy listos' : crazy smart) like to call it Advanced Squared. Kinda catchy, huh? We taught our first class this last Thursday, and, scared as I was, it went very well. You'll never find a more attentive set of students, and thankfully, I got my point across somehow. I don't know what I would do without my sister or almost-sister Mexican friend Ruth, whose Spanish, of course, is impeccable and always grammatically correct (which is more than I can boast!).

Other than that, the rest of life is... steady. Steady life, I confess, is sometimes the hardest for me. I'm so dramatic and adventurous and, when life is steady, or routine, I suppose you could say, I've got to make a conscious decision everyday to choose joy. A very, very conscious decision. :) Thank goodness - no, thank the LORD - that I don't have to try to 'choose' on my own.

Well, just a bit of 'buenas nuevas' for you all ... much less serious and deep than some other things I've written, but necessary, too. I hope the Lord is blessing each of You with the grace that only He can give. One last thing, friends - choose joy.

Tia's Story

I wrote this short story about a year ago, as a creative branch of my ENG102 research. Seeing an old friend a few weeks ago, her son Abraham, reminded me once again of Tia and Hermosillo, which I once called home. I have labelled it simply, Tia's Story.

I had known Tia for over four years now - yes, ever since the incorrigible little redhead spitfire had walked through the door to our little house in Hermosillo, we had become fast friends. She came to clean and organize our home on Wednesdays and Fridays, and I would always be by the door, waiting for her arrival. When I occasionally forgot, I would be play-scolded for my negligence and prodded out of bed to a hot breakfast of eggs and chorizo. Her real name was Socorro, meaning 'help' in Spanish, but we affectionally called her 'Tia', or aunt, and she was like a second mother to me, scolding and spoiling and teaching constantly. She taught me the ways of Sonora - how to talk like a true Sonoran, how to consume chiles like a real Sonoran, and she taught my sister - she never quite trained me - to wear those crazy spindly high heels that Sonorans wear. Two years later, when we moved back to the United States, Tia became, of course, a regular visitor to our home in the States, our honored guest - and, as she could never be idle, she began to work, cleaning and organizing people's homes, and excelling at it with her usual spirit and determination. She never forgot Amy and I, though, and every night we would have our daily tournament, or war, rather, of her favorite board game, Sorry. Besides, every extra peso helped in her little home back in Sonora.

It was one of those trips, her Christmastime visit, the end of a week of grueling hard labor, and finally she was home again with us, sitting on the guest bedroom floor, counting her earnings. I watched as she slowly and deliberately counted every dollar with precision going over her addition twice on the paper I provided her. Her money counted, she began to divide it carefully into categories. Clothes for the boys - $30.

"They need uniforms for school," she said. "They haven't had new ones in nearly two years now. And my oldest, he's grown so much - he needs a new pair of pants. Do you think you mother could drop me off at the thrift store later?"

"No problem," I replied, rather absentmindedly, watching her meticulous counting.

Food - $100.

Savings - $50.

The ticket home - $30.

"I have been so blessed by this trip," she exclaimed, her voice gushing with excitement and joy. "Look how much I made! 100 dollars in one day! Your aunt was most kind to give me that much."

New sweater for her husband - $5.

"Now, if I can just get another cleaning engagement for tomorrow, I will ahve work for 3 more days - I will go home Saturday night. There - I'm done counting."

Total: $300.

"Tia, you work too hard! Give yourself a break! Can't you just hang out tomorrow? It's about time! I have the day off - we could go shopping, or play Sorry..."

"You come with me, Anita! You know I can always use a translator. Some of these tall blonde ladies, they talk so fast as if they expect me to understand, and then leave me a long list of to-dos in English!"

"Tia!" I gasped. "What do you do? I know for a fact you can't read a word of English. You told me so yourself!"

"And you know just as well that I hae never left anyone unhappy with my work. I just do a thorough cleaning, you know, and organize just the tiniest bit, and everyone's always happy."

Just a little organizing, right. Tia's organizing was renowned in our home - whenever anything went missing, ask Tia. And we usually asked the right person, too. Every six months we had the seasonal cleaning-out of my closet to take care of - a nightmare for me, but a joy for someone like Tia. She would wake us both up bright and early, hand each of us a large garbage bag, and tell us to fill it, or else she would. Nevertheless, she was right - my closet was always spotless after her, and most clients wouldn't recognize anything rearranged for a couple of days anyway, at least until Tia was safely out of the country.

"Speaking of organizing - I haven't seen my black dress shoes since last summer, Tia. Would you happen to know where they are?"

"Hm, let's see... now that you remind me, I think I might know the pair you mean."

A quick raid of an obscure un-searched corner of my closet produced the coveted shoes I had recently replaced. That Tia.

She did work those last four days, and that Saturday she left us, waving emphatically as the bus pulled out of the station, her arms filled with discounted buys and surprises for her family back home, cast away items from the houses she had cleaned. South, further south she went, going home with clothing, food, and a little to spare. "I'll be back this summer, you know I will," she had promised. For now, her extra little income had kept her family above water - for now. True to her name, she was taking help home to her family, in many different shapes and sizes. My eyes filled as I remembered the little Christmas gift I had found on my bed before she left. All her saving and economy, and she hadn't forgotten me. And it was then that I realized how truly blessed I was, not only in material possessions, but to have a friend like my 'Tia'.

Train Tracks and Rabbit Trails

I'm seeing a theme!

Sometimes God will bring a lesson - a recurring theme - into my life through any means possible until I finally stop to listen. It's interesting how much more pressing daily, earthly details can become when I don't want to change... when I get, well, comfortable. To be very blatantly honest, when I get lazy in my walk with the Lord.You always learn the most about yourself - and your sin! - when a sovereign God steps in and rearranges your life. It's in moments like these, when I feel the weakest, that my perspective is, once again, set right. I get lazy rather quickly. But now - I'm wide awake.

Well, it all began with a song. It often does. Music has got to be the best medium one can possibly use to get through to me. I turned on the new album by Sara Groves, not expecting to hear anything particularly revolutionary or life changing. It seems that He often works the most when we're not expecting anything - and this proved true in my life that day. She began to sing about someone going through the motions of the Christian life - someone comfortable. She sang about a walk that looked great from without, but was hollow within. A life that was all show and no joy. And, much to my chagrin, I recognized myself in the song. As conviction rolled in, I tried to shut the image out with everything else - anything else.

Yeah, that never works.

Next, he used a book. Out of mere curiosity (and for lack of anything else!) I picked up a small book that had been collecting dust on my bookshelf for months: the Dangerous Duty of Delight by John Piper. There I found a passage that would threaten the course of life as I knew it. He used the modern term "Christian Hedonism" to describe a right view of God, and a way of life that the great saints of the past lived out with passion (Hebrews 11).

...if Christian Hedonism is old-fashioned, why is it so controversial? ... It insists that joy is not just the spin-off of obedience, but part of obedience. It seems as though people are willing to let joy be a by-product of our relationship to God, but not an essential part of it. People are uncomfortable saying that we are duty-bound to joy... joy is an act of obedience. We are commanded to rejoice in God...Maximizing our joy in God is what we were created for.

In his book, Piper quotes two amazing men of God well worth quoting - and their words both opened my eyes and cut me to the heart. I know few who would not be!

God is glorified not only by His glory's being seen, but by its being rejoiced in. When those that see it delight in it, God is more glorified that if they only see it. His glory is then received by the whole soul, both by the understanding and by the heart. God made the world that He might communicate, and the creature receive, His glory; and that it might [be] received both by the mind and heart. He that testifies his idea of God's glory [doesn't] glorify God so much as he that testifies also his delight in it. - Jonathan Edwards, The End for Which God Created the World, 1759

If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that the notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in te Gospels, it would seem that our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like and ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased. - C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

Therefore, God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him.

I've realized now that the whole of the Christian life is based on healthy balances. To balance brokenness with joy, theology with action, great faith with works to prove it - and to keep these solely through a complete dependence on the One who created them. I think I often separate the realms in which I live: the mind, heart, and soul - the intangible - from the tangible, my body and daily life. In my struggle against "practicality", I have banished from my faith and thought life. I've learned to go through the motions - I've taught myself to be blind. True worship is nothing, though, if not a way of life. What if my heart was so focused on God that my first response to anything was to immediately go before Him in thanks and praise? It sounds like a 'given' - but quite honestly, that's not how I usually live. Living in a fallen world, I'm far too ready to sacrifice this closeness for the trivial, the light pleasures offered us here that in the end will offer no true, lasting satisfaction. Paul, I believe, had found out the mystery of choosing joy, and for this reason he rejoiced in all things: in all advancement of the Gospel, in his thoughts of fellow saints, even in his own chains. Wow.

I'm thoroughly convicted. I've been chasing rabbit trails for a while now, I'm afraid - preoccupied with earthly things, rather how my walk looked than how it really was. With God's help I hope to get back on track: to refocus on the goal of my life: making God famous by rejoicing only in Him.

"Since then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory." Colossians 3:1-4

Just Showed Up for My Own Life
by Sara Groves

Spending my time sleepwalking
Moving my mouth but not saying a thing
Hoping the changes would take by working their way from the outside in
I was in love with an idea
Preoccupied with how a life should be appear
Spending my time at the surface
Repairing the holes in a shiny veneer

There are so many ways to hide
There are so many ways not to feel
There are so many ways to deny
What is real

And I just showed for my own life
And I'm standing here taking it in and it sure looks bright

I'm gonna live my life inspired
Look for the holy in the commonplace
I'm gonna wake up and feel all that's honest and real
Until I'm truly amazed

I'm going to feel all my emotions
I'm gonna look You in the eyes
I'm going to listen and hear till it's finally clear
And it changes our lives

Oh, the glory of God is man fully alive...

Caborca, Contentment, God's Overarching Sovereignty, and Other Weighty Matters

"Teach us, O God, that nothing is necessary to Thee. Were anything necessary to Thee that thing would be the measure of Thy imperfection: and how could we worship one who is imperfect? If nothing is necessary to Thee, then no one is necessary - and if no one, then not we." ~ Jeremiah Burroughs

It was late Friday night that we - the East Valley Caborca team - returned home, and I've taken a few days now for some thought and clarification. I've learned - or, at least, am trying to learn - never to speak too quickly about anything - and writing is exactly the same way. Hm, where to begin...

CABORCA EXPERIENCES
The body of Christ in action
Dust
Unity
Pastor Abraham
Cold
Great Mexican Food
Cross-Cultural Evangelism Team
Ministry in the city
Asparagus
Campo Viva
Worship
Children's ministry
Clowns
"beautiful feet" (thanks, John!)
Different Tribes desiring to hear the good news
Peoples from Southern Mexico responding to the gospel in repentance and faith
Campo Rocio
Believers with ONE purpose UNITED in GOSPEL
Cold cement floors
Gospel tapes in various languages
Ministry in the camps
Warm fellowship
La Alameda Village
The Passion
Friendship
Washboard roads
Chucking the deuces for Jesus
More dust
Campo 25 de Enero
Bibles arriving just on time
The prayers of our SENDERS back home
Many open doors
The power of God
Love
Abundant life
Spiritual warfare
"Yo quiero nadar en el rio de Dios"
"Swimming"
Hundreds of people heard the truth
Many of those responded
Rejoicing in Heaven
Rejoicing on earth
Instant coffee
Alfonso
Oatmeal
Ministry in the villages
Praise God from whom all blessings flow (sung in Chol, a Chiapan dialect)
God saving peoples through His people
God's great glory

To elaborate...

That first weekend we spent in the actual town of Caborca itself, in ministry with an amazing, very Gospel-centered national church there. Our main focus was a poverty-stricken colonia on the outskirts of the city, Santa Cecilia. That Saturday night, while the Jesus film played on the side of the RV, I joined the prayer team inside. It's always been incredible to see how God works when His people pray. In the midst of our prayer, the movie turned off completely, leaving our audiences to nothing but the dark and cold. We prayed fervently for the tech team that night. I've seen, on past trips, that God's sovereignty is always better than whatever else we may have had in mind, and I know that He will never impede anything that brings Him glory. Within minutes the movie was playing again. None of our audience had been lost. And better still - we had seen Him work.

As the movie wound up, a prayer request came in for a young girl named Myra, who had expressed interest in the Gospel, and was eager to know more. Once the Gospel message began, I felt an inexplicable urge to get outside and see what I might do. Searching for any opportunity to be of use, I noticed, at the very edge of the crowd, a young girl about 14 talking - or gesturing - with a few members of our team. Myra! It had to be. I made a beeline for the girl, and immediately introduced myself as Ana. She shook my hand earnestly, and told me her name was Myra. Gravity was the only thing that kept me from going everywhere at once. And then suddenly - as though spiritual warfare began in that very moment - I lost all words. There was nothing that I could say to this young girl, so desperate for answers, even for a friend. How I longed to share with her the hope that I had - the hope that can only be had in the Gospel - and yet, there I was, helpless. And then I realized - I had the testimony of God's grace and great mercy in my life! I had been saved - therefore, I had something to share, a story to tell. What could I possibly say that would be more real, more relevant to this young girl's life? From then the story of my own story - let me rephrase, GOD'S story in my life - gushed forth. It was no longer me speaking, but the Christ that was in me. What a beautiful thing it is to be merely an instrument in the hands of an almighty and truly awesome God. Example of glory #1.

The weekend over, the real central part of our ministry began: the camps. In Caborca, (and in many other cities across Mexico), agricultural 'camps' are instituted that house workers to plant and harvest the region's multiple crops. Most all of these people are brought en masse from the South, being promised higher wages and a place of shelter. Here in these camps can one often see the depths of real poverty. And here in these camps, there is a great need. Drawing from past experience, I knew exactly what to pray for in my own heart. I have a very great tendency to depend entirely upon myself: my reliance, being a rather veteran missions worker, is often on myself, on my abilities, and my expectations, my focus, are often distracted from their goal. I prayed that Sunday night, and I prayed all through Monday morning and afternoon. Slowly, I began to feel my heart prepared. The Lord used a piece of good Christian literature - The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment by Jeremiah Burroughs, a devout Independent minister from the early 17th century. One particular paragraph took me entirely by surprise, and taught me a valuable lesson. The English, at times, borders on the archaic - but it makes the simple truth spoken all the more beautiful.

A gracious heart is contented by the melting of his will and desires into God's will and desires; by this means he gets contentment. This ... is a mystery to a carnal heart. It is not by having his own desires satisfied, but by melting his will and desires into God's will. So that, in one sense, he comes to have his desires satisfied though he does not obtain the thing that he desired before; still he comes to be satisfied with this, because he makes his will to be at one with God's will. This is a small degree higher than submitting to the will of God. You all say that you should submit to God's will; a Christian has got beyond this. He can make God's will and his own the same. it is said of believers that they are joined to the Lord, and are one spirit... A gracious heart must needs have satisfaction in this way, beacuse godliness teaches him this, to see that his good is more in God than it is in himself. The good of my life and comforts and my happiness and my glory and my riches are more in God than in myself.

Wow - what a beautiful thing. We, as humans, were made to serve a purpose, to bring glory to someone, to something. The unbeliever has not found this purpose - therefore he wanders aimlessly and has no peace. The person, however, whose hope is in the Lord, has purpose indeed, and the Holy Spirit inside him (or her!) will lead them to accomplish this. Once again - I'm just a broken instrument that God, in His great mercy, has chosen to use.

It's funny - you've got to be careful what you pray about - for what you ask in His name, He surely will answer. Our first camp was labeled Campo Viva, and, once again, pride took over. (When He said this was a fight, He wasn't kidding.) I'd worked at Campo Viva twice now - I was, indeed, a veteran, and I intended (although I never would have admitted it!) to display my talent and ease in this camp ministry as a whole. Once again, I lost the words - it seems that a divine sense of humor was playing a role in my life. Introductions - pleasantries - were a chore, and I found myself unable to understand even the simplest Spanish that I was presented with. As it grew dark, I returned to the van, inwardly kicking myself for passing up all Gospel opportunities, for making a fool of myself with the infamous tape player, and for my the worry and fear that seemed to plague me in that moment. I breathed a sigh of relief as the Jesus film began playing on the side of one of the barracks, and with an air of resignation I propped myself up against the vehicle for about an hour and a half.

At the point of the crucifixion the movie was paused and Pastor Alfonso came forward to share 'a few things about Jesus'. My eyes widened as dozens of campers came forward to repent of their sins. I wonder that I should be surprised - I guess I still haven't fully grasped the depths of God's ability to change lives yet. My own salvation continues to be a mystery - albeit a beautiful one. All those who had expressed interest received a Spanish Bible, and I watched as each one came eagerly forward to receive theirs. One man who had been close to me against the van for the duration of the film returned to the same place, with a new light in his eyes as he gazed at the brand new Bible he held in both hands. As he stood there gazing at it, one of his more skeptical fellow campers came from behind and snatched the Bible for a closer look. "What is this?" he asked the first man. "Is it worth anything?" After thoroughly looking it over, he carelessly threw it back at the new believer. The owner took it back carefully, his eyes still fixed on its cover. "And in here, here in this book," he said, "you will find the truth." This man, who had known the Lord scarcely five minutes, was already sharing with those around in him! When God works in a life, in a soul - it shows - and I prayed that I would never doubt His ability to do so again.

Finally, I got to see the body work as a whole. During one of the final days of the trip, we split up into teams and took off to share the Gospel in Diamante, the town we were staying in. As we went from house to house, we were surprised that no one at all seemed to be at home. Every house, every yard, was completely empty. Just as we were about to give up, we came upon Camilo. He was sitting alone, a solitary figure against the background of dust and sky, and immediately I remembered him. Six months ago we had visited Camilo and his wife, shared the Gospel, left a Bible, and had gone. A Mexican team member, Abram, went boldly forward to talk to the man, and I followed close behind.

An hour and a half later, I was thanking the Lord that only Camilo had been home that day. One man heard the Gospel - the full, complete, clear, beautiful Gospel. Abram fearlessly shared the Word with him, and I interjected whenever Abram was at a loss for words. Our two other team members, although they couldn't personally speak Spanish, prayed fervently for us as we shared with the man. Embedded in tradition, myths, and Catholicism, Camilo couldn't understand his need for a Savior - but he heard the full truth that day, and we left him sorrowful, and yet rejoicing in our own salvation, that our own eyes were opened to the mystery that is foolishness to those who cannot see.

God's glory was clearly manifest in Caborca. I thank the Lord that I was allowed to be a part of His work.

What a God we serve - great is His name!!!

"God created us to live with a single passion: to joyfully display his supreme excellence in all spheres of life. The wasted life is the life without this passion. God calls us to pray and think and dream and plan and work not to be made much of, but to make much of him in every part of our lives." ~ John Piper

Taking a Moment to Prepare

Caborca is tomorrow. And honestly, I am exhilarated.
Naturally, I tend to be somewhat of a skeptic. Pessimism runs in my sinful veins, and once I get used to something, I'm just that. Used to it. Apathetic. Oh, how I hate the word, and how often I resort to it. But, guess what? God is bigger. Yep, that's right.
In Caborca, I have seen God work. And I mean, really, really work. The change-lives, split-the-skies, jaw dropping kind of 'work'. Wow, what an opportunity to be a part of His work again - I think sometimes we fail to realize what a blessing it is to be used by Him! It's funny how distracted we - well, I know I - get distracted here. And even without all the modern conveniences (oh boy, no Internet!!!), life goes on, and it's pretty good, too. A few (thick!) sweaters, a Bible, notebook, yes, some deodorant... not to mention great fellowship... Caborca existence is a beautiful thing. As an added bonus, there's lots of opportunities to come out of the good old comfort zone - especially if you happen speak Spanish. (!) Mine is a formidable thing - complete with thick hardened walls surrounding its small space. So, I get a chance to step out in faith, and you... well... pray hard, those of you staying... that His name - and His alone - might be glorified.

God's going to work, I know it. He's going to do great things. May I work towards great things myself - for Him.

RESOLVED:

A Brand New Year


RESOLVED:
1. To actually, finally, post something on my blog. I have one - so, why not????
Actually, this resolution is more like number 48, but it seemed relevant, under the circumstances. I've been thinking over the past year a ton, you know, what went well and what I ought to work on, and I guess you could pretty much sum the past 12 months up in one verse - God's Word to Paul - 'My grace is sufficient for you'. Boy, have I learned this truth this year - and especially over the past few months. I'm really quite prone to worry. Yep, right since day 1. And I've found (among other things!!) that those traits (or, in this case, faults) that you acquire on day 1 are awful hard to get rid of. And yet, God's grace is sufficient!!! Isn't it comforting to know that in the midst of our trials and difficulties, he will never give us more than we can handle? Perhaps we believe we cannot handle something, but he will give us the strength in His own timing. How awesome!

Well, Christmas (and all that Christmas entails) was truly amazing. Three weeks ago was the much anticipated TOY SALE. I was up bright and early at 4 in the morning - and dressed as a family of experienced toy salers (three sweaters, men's jacket, scarf - the works!) . What an incredible morning - 525 families were blessed with great new toys, and $5460 was raised for the Light and Life Hispanic Methodist Church in Chandler. What a blessing to be a part of the work there. I've also had numerous opportunities to 'salir' - sorry, thinking in Spanish - "come out" of my comfort zone - singing in public, sharing the Gospel with an unbelieving family, etc. My comfort zone, to be perfectly honest, is well defined - complete with high, impassible walls to mark out its perimeter. Consequently, journeying outside of that realm is, as you could probably guess, rather tough - and yet, God has continually blessed me every time I have. Isn't it funny how the things that we dread are often things that we need the most? We really evade so much blessing staying away from the unknown. I know I do.

It's been a 'growing' year - emotionally rather straining, and kind of tough - but you know what? It's been one of the best years of my life. I thank God for the opportunities that I've had to grow, and with His help, I've been able to take them. Thank the Lord for a new year - a fresh opportunity to serve Him and make His name known. Wow, thinking about it - I've got a lot to do. And honestly, I can't wait to get started.