Garbage

"This is the day the Lord has made, rejoice in it and be glad."

Psalm 118:24

In the letters went...typed into a text to my hubby at 7:50 a.m.

I felt it this morning. I did.
I awoke, sat on the side of my bed, grabbed my 7.25 prescription eyeglasses so I could at least see two feet in front of me, and that verse popped into my head.

Rejoice. Be glad.

That will be the mantra for today. That will guide me through therapy sessions, through travel to and from meetings, through keeping up a house with four rambunctious children.

"Seriously! When you throw something away, put-it-in-the-garbage-can!!!!!"

Only 11 short hours later I was raising my voice at my children and husband. I had opened the kitchen cupboard one too many times to find a popsicle wrapper and half eaten apple core alongside the trash can instead of in it.

And...everything S-T-O-P-P-E-D!!!!

Three pair of brown eyes and two pair of blue all looked at me hesitantly.

The dishes that were being put away were now being held in Luke's hands.
The leftover meat in Kobe's hand, stood still with him.
The towel that was wiping dishes halted.

And each of them looked at me,
         not moving,
           and must have been thinking,
                          "Uh Oh...Mom is mad!"

But in an instant the littlest brown eyes in our house walked over to me by the cupboard and slapped me on the arm. Her little brown fingers made contact with my bare arm and a huge smile fell across her face. Her tongue slipped out of her mouth and she giggled that giggle.

And in an instant it was like God said through her...

"This is the day the Lord has made, rejoice in it and be glad."
Psalm 118:24

And so playfully I slapped her back on her bottom and she erupted in giggles as a small slapping match ensued.

And everyone went back to being a family.

And I....
   well I was reminded once again of the blessings in my household!

Tonight my dear sisters, I have friends that I have only met via facebook and they are sitting in a hospital with their daughter, Bella, who has not eaten for close to a week and is in undescribable pain that so far doctors can not only not diagnose but not touch with all the medical care available to us. People have been praying for months for this little girl. The family has been in and out of medical facilities. And this poor dear girl can not even sit or eat because the pain is so bad. And this poor little girl, she has lost hope. She does not want to fight any more. And her mama...well her mama...would give anything to be at home with a popsicle wrapper on the side of the garbage can!

Tonight my dear sisters, this family is still claiming the power of prayer and we are storming the heavens for Bella to be able to take just a few bites of food. We call on our Savior Jesus for our dear Bella to be HEALED. WE NEED A MIRACLE my sisters and we know that our God is still in the business of creating miracles...for when His people pray, He listens!

So tonight... tonight the garbage (or whatever it is that is under your skin tonight)
Tonight...it does not matter...

Tonight we will pray to our God about Bella and let the garbage go!

I share Him!

There is a little boy playing with the cap of a bottle. It is dirty. Not sure how long it has been on the ground. He puts it in his mouth, then in his hands, then throws it on the ground and kicks it a bit. It is his only toy. The cap from a Pepsi bottle.

There is a little girl with a growth on the side of her face. It does not look good. Her mother sits beside her on the hospital bed. There is no TV in the room. No IV's hooked up to her providing her pain relief. There is not a rolling cart with a finely cooked cafeteria meal in front of her. No sterile gloves, no thermometers, no syringes. The little girl's doctor does not have anything to prescribe and her family does not have the money to pay for a surgery, not that exploratory or repairative surgery are even normal protocol here.

There is a husband who welcomes us to his home. He takes plastic chairs from a stack in his living room. The chairs remain from the funeral of his wife they had just thirty days ago in the open area outside their home. He has his 11 year old son put a dvd in their outdated dvd player so we can watch this funeral on their small, grainy, outdated 20 inch tv. And his 13 year old son, sits quietly in the corner, hands behind his back, silently reliving the funeral of his mother. This husband tells the story of his wife's abdominal pain that led him to have to carry her to the hospital, in the middle of the night, on his back. A hospital like the one described above...no testing, no treatment, no pain medicine, no surgeries. And this same husband breaks down sobbing in the arms of a white woman he just met ten minutes prior because he so loved his wife and misses her so deeply.

And the stories haunt us.
And they are hard to digest.

And there are times when we are asked, "How was Africa?" and we just want to scream...

"IT WAS HORRENDOUS...PEOPLE ARE DYING THERE! I HELD A DYING CHILD! I HELD A GRIEVING MAN! I SAW STARVATION AND DISEASE AND DISGUST! AND RIGHT NOW I CAN'T COMPREHEND ANYTHING THAT YOU ARE TELLING ME ABOUT YOUR LIFE HERE IN THE U.S. AND I CAN'T WRAP MY BRAIN AROUND THE TINY DETAILS OF MY JOB AND ALL I WANT TO DO IS RUN BACK TO THAT PLACE AND THE ONLY REASON I KNOW WHY ANYONE WOULD WANT TO GO THERE IS BECAUSE...."

it was also GLORIOUS!

The children pierced my hearts! The stories stole my heart! The images I saw, the sounds I heard, the smells I took in and the view of CHRIST in what could be perceived as such a desolate place....

well...that is something I now CRAVE!

So...now what?
   I find myself asking that again...as I have so many times since my first steps off the plane two years ago in Sierra Leone, West Africa...

    NOW WHAT?

Well, right now...I rest in God's timing. I rest in the truth that He has a perfect plan for my life. That He hears the desires of my heart and He knows what is best for me. I dive into His word to learn more about Him. I share my stories with those who will let me get past "Africa was great". I work at the job He has provided me and I do it as if I were working for Him...and more importantly I share HIM! 

Right here...right now...in the midst of grading online coursework, in the midst of painting our house a new color, in the midst of figuring out a budget for our family and planning summer activities...

...in the midst of wondering what in the world is the reason behind much of what I do here in the U.S....

I share Him!!!

"I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go;

I will counsel you with my eye upon you."

Psalm 32:8

Schedules Interrupted

Sunday:  Top 64 Basketball League in Carroll
Monday: Physical Therapy Lucy
             Kobe Basketball practice
Tuesday: Speech Therapy Lucy
              Faith, Kobe, Luke basketball camp
              Meeting at coffee shop downtown

So, this morning I woke up and I knew....PT with Lucy, basketball practice for Kobe, and a few other things thrown in for good measure.
I sort-of had a plan in my head how the day would progress.
COFFEE...eggs for Lucy....PT...run and get toilet paper...etc...

But you see the past few weeks a picture from Facebook has been hanging in my brain.

You see, this is a picture of some friends we know through The Raining Season. Luke is on the far left in the gray t-shirt. His wife, Rachel, was with me on my last trip to Africa. We connected immediately. You see, Luke is a physical therapist. He works on people's bones and muscles and tendons and cartilage and such (I am guessing here...I don't know all the PT terminology!). Anyway, several years ago he heard about a little girl named Lucy in Sierra Leone and he paid for, donated, and shipped a pediatric walker to help her take her first steps.

And next to Luke, sortof hidden in the back, is Jason. Jason is a board member for The Raining Season. I don't even actually know what his "real" job is, but I know he is amazing at computer stuff and really funny! His wife Wendy and I became friends because we are both educators and care deeply about the reading, writing and 'rithmatic of the kiddos in Sierra Leone.

Oh wait...I got side-tracked...this blog post is about schedules...

So...Monday...Monday morning...I wake up and I have a schedule...what will my day bring...what will I accomplish...who will I meet and greet?

Well, back to the picture...you see the man in the middle?
The one with what appears to be soaking wet clothes? 

Well you see one day last week he woke up too. He woke up in a remote village in West Africa. He woke up among people who just like him had been mainly exposed to the Muslim faith. He probably had an agenda for his day...eating mango, playing with chimpanzees, killing a wild boar (I am kidding!) I don't really know what his day's plans were, but none-the-less I am sure he had some.

But you see...his day was interrupted! 
His schedule took a detour.
The plans for the day were put on the back-burner.

Because you see, Jason and Luke, along with a few others from their small church in Kansas City, decided to divert from their normal schedules. They decided to step out of their comfort zones, leave their families, take their hard earned vacation time, and invade into this man's schedule.

They didn't plan for it that day either.
They were simply obeying the call...
The call we have all been given...

"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy."

Matthew 28:19

You see, they didn't know his name.

They didn't know his family.

They didn't even speak his language.

  (But God did!)

They simply swayed from their schedule,

             obeyed the call of our Savior,

                              and shared Christ that day!

And there will be one more person in heaven because of it.

So...back to schedules...

Can  you imagine this man's day on that particular day?

His plans...mango eating, chimpanzee playing...whatever...they were all interrupted by our Savior...to meet white men from Kansas City, Missouri, who didn't speak his language, but who come bearing the name and grace of our Savior!

Wow...just keep thinking about that!

What an awesome thing!

Schedules interrupted!!!  Souls saved!

Oh Dear Lord...thank you for Jason and Luke and the others who were with them that day. Thank you for their courage to step up. Thank you for their boldness with your gospel. Thank you for the testimony to us. Thank you Lord for this picture...this picture that has popped into my brain every morning since I first viewed it....for it reminds me to interrupt my schedule for you....to share you...because it might just be the interruption someone needs today!! Dear Lord, thank you for this man. This man I don't even know who has brought me faith in you, faith in your salvation, faith in your provision to guide us to all nations, all peoples. Oh Lord...I simply stand in awe today...and for that, well...thank you!





A Beacon of Light...

I have been thinking a lot about light houses lately. I guess God is laying something on my heart. There have been little glimpses of His teaching in my life on this topic and then today my devo said this,

"I chose to pour My Light into you, so that you can be a beacon to others."

So, a lighthouse...

 a tower or building designed to emit light as an aid to navigation for ships and boats. 

The light coming from the light house would alert the ships of where the coast line was, and illuminate the waters.

It has me thinking...

Am I a lighthouse?

Am I a beacon of light to those wondering in the hazards of this life?

Do people see me, see light, and understand a clear path?

A path of Christ?

I should be...

"In the same way, let your light shine before men..."

Matthew 5:16

So, I did a quick little search on lighthouses...you know in the place I wouldn't let my college students search for information: WIKIPEDIA:

"Once widely used, the number of operational lighthouses has declined due to the expense of maintenance and replacement by modern electronic navigational devices."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lighthouse

Hmmm....the number of operational lighthouses had declined...

Could we make a connection to Christianity here my dear sisters?

...due to expense and maintenance...

It is difficult to be a lighthouse for our Lord if we are not spending time with Him.

 If we are not maintaining our own relationship with Him.

LIGHTHOUSE....

Be one today....



Sit a Spell

Dear Sister,

 I miss you. I long to sit on the porch with you, drinking a strong cup of coffee with just the right amount of cream, listening to the details of your day. Just sit and talk, watching the cars drive by, wondering where everyone is rushing off to.

I want to hear about your children. What are they doing now? Who are their friends? What are they wishing for for their birthdays? Are they in activities...too many maybe? Are you stressed and tired, elated and overjoyed? I want to sit a spell with you.

I know what you will tell me.

You will tell me that your daughter is beginning to have a voice. Wanting to choose her own clothes, telling you no when you make the same noodles she has eaten for the past four years, giving you a rolling of her eyes all of the sudden. You will tell me that you wonder about the man she will marry some day. Will he treat her with Godly love? Will he provide for her? Will she bring your grandbabies home at Christmas and on the weekends just to sit with you?  You will tell me that you wonder how much is too much. How to find balance. How to know when to say no.

I want to hear about your son. How he loves kickball and bugs and video games. Again, I know the words that will come from your lips, but I want to hear them anyway. I want to just sit and listen to you. I want to know about your cares and worries, hopes and dreams for him. Is he too geeky? Too competitive? Too sassy? Should you travel with him to play basketball or keep him at home, riding bikes to the park with his friends. I want to hear from you.

Oh dear sister...how I long to hear about your marriage, your career, your life. Has he brought you flowers lately? Have you had a date night? Do you dream about the early days when he was courting you? Are you ready to start work again? Longing to quit your job? Hoping for a promotion? Tell me about the person who gets under your skin...the one who you just clicked with immediately...and the ones you can't tell where their lives are leading. I want to know you.

Oh dear Sister...how I want to sit with you. How I want to talk to you. How I miss you.

The porch...kids playing...birds chirping...cars passing by....come to me my dear girl...come and sit a spell with me.

Love,
 GOD

"Lord, in the morning you hear my voice. In the morning I lay it all out before you. Then I wait expectantly."

Psalm 5:3



Perspective

"Visit Children's Hospital"

It was listed on the itinerary without much fanfare.

Just a line item on the week's agenda.

We piled out of the bus into the parking lot. Women and children stood outside the entrance. A woman dressed in white showed up to greet us. Her nurses' uniform was impeccably ironed, her hair braided without a single strand out of place. Her black skin radiated against the bleach white uniform that resembled those I had seen my grandmother wearing years prior as a nurse.

We were here.

A bus load of white people from the U.S. ready to engulf the hospital with donations, prayer and the power of our Savior.  Ready to give. Ready to bless. Ready to share.

After introductions, we were escorted upstairs to an administrator's room. We unloaded the gifts we had brought, proud of what we were able to donate. Alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, neosporin, tylenol. Buckets, blankets, baby items. Several large bags full with specifically requested items for the hospital.

Check. Check. Check.

Introductions were made. Words of thanks given. Photos taken.

Now...we could embark.

Now we could begin what we had hoped. Touring the facility. Praying. Sharing Christ. Giving of ourselves. Pointing them to Jesus. Doing a good deed. Giving. Giving. Giving.

After spending a good thirty minutes to an hour in the nutrition wing, holding starving babies and the hands of their unknowing mothers, we were escorted back through the hospital to another ward of the pediatric unit.

 The beds were full...sick children sitting next to their silent mothers.

 We were notified that the worst cases were in the back.

I didn't see a doctor. I didn't see any IV tubes, or medicine droppers. No thermometers, no patient file, no bedpans. Just simple beds with sick kids.

As I made my way to the back area, weeding through hollow eyed children and blank faced mothers, I saw her.

My team member, Hanna, was  holding her.

She was dying.

With barely a whisper, holding back tears, Hanna gently looked up at me and muttered,

"I can barely feel a pulse."

"I don't think she is breathing."

I took her tiny wrist in my hand and waited for the beat.

Waited for the life line. The pumping blood. The notion of life.

Ever so faintly it came. Barely there. Barely a movement.

Yes, she was dying.

I knew she could be contagious. I had no idea what her illness might be.

Tuberculosis? Malaria? Pneumonia? Premature birth?

I knew I could catch it. I knew I would be exposed.

But in that moment, it didn't matter.

I took her from Hanna's arms, and wrapped her in mine. I leaned close to her cheek and whispered the sweet love of Jesus in her ear. I prayed for a pulse. I swallowed my anger, my grief, my conviction and I stood there knowing she might not see the next hour. I gave what I could...a kiss, a cuddle, a prayer and yet

 in that moment, as we were being called to move on to our next itinerary line item,

I knew I was not the one giving today.

I knew I was receiving.

Faith...

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."

Hebrews 11:1

Faith that our Father does not make mistakes.

Faith that even if this little one died in that moment, she would be with our Lord.

Faith that God knows the plans for her and they are good.

But in that moment, in that moment when just a short hour before I thought I would be the one to do the giving,  I also received perspective.

Perspective on life.

Perspective on living.

Perspective.

How can a person hold a child who is dying from a fully preventable cause and come back to the U.S. and complain about anything?

How can a person look into the eyes of a 20 something year old girl, who has given up the chance of a lifetime at school to care for her dying niece, be concerned about education reform in Iowa?

How can a person hold a child, age 11 months, with legs the size of a pencil and arms so fragile we are afraid they will break in two, and question my own monthly budget for food?

Perspective my dear sisters...perspective.

Dear Lord, as I did last week, this day I lift up every child and mother in that hospital to you. I pray for the nurses and caregivers that they might gain access to medical supplies to help their patients. I pray for my own personal walk with you Lord. Dear Lord, I can ask why you allow starving children to die...and yet, you could ask me the same question. Might I never lose my conviction. Might I sacrifice...truly sacrifice...so I can give more to them.