Resting in the Rain Specks

Lately, there has been a lot on my mind. The wheels have been turning constantly.
I noticed the sunset on our drive home. Brillant colors filled the sky. Once we got home, I decided to sit on our back porch and take it all in. The stillness and peace that comes from reflecting on God's creation; my mind could sure use it.

As I watch the last colors of the sunset fade from the sky, I notice the smallest, lightest rain specks (not heavy enough to be drops) falling down. You can't hear them or see them and you can barely feel them. If I hadn't sat still, I wouldn't have even known they were there.

My sweet Father reminds me to not get so busy with life. Don't worry so much. Don't plan so much. Don't overthink things. Don't be so consumed with other things that you forget Me. If you do, you may miss out on the tiny rain specks of life.

Just as soon as the rain specks started, they seemed to stop; as if it were only something He and I knew about. I don't know if they were or not, but I have been reminded to slow down and take time to be still before Him; clear my mind and cast all of my cares upon Him. My God is a good God and I'm so thankful that he cares about me, personally. He formed me and created me and He knows the number of my days. It feels good to slow down and rest in Him.

You Don't Have to be Fake

I'm not good at being fake. I never have been. Whatever the emotion: stressed, aggravated, sad, mad, you can see it on my face. It's not that I don't try to seem okay. I'm just not good at pretending. The harder I try, the more exhausted I get. You never have to guess what I'm thinking or what's going on in my mind. You can read me like a book and I see it as a flaw. This is not an excuse to be rude, but rather, a way of showing that I'm real. After all, "christians" are normal people.

If I can't fool those around me, why do I think I can fool the One who created me? Sometimes I pretend to be okay before Him, like I'll follow faithfully no matter what. While this is partly true, I'm not always okay with what's going on in my life. Sometimes I get aggravated and annoyed with God. I get frustrated when things don't go the way I think they should. I get aggravated when things don't happen at the times I think they should. I think in my mind, sometimes not daring to ask aloud, "God what are you doing? What is happening in my life? This is not how I planned it."

As much as I want to be sometimes, I dont have to be fake with God. Even if I try, he sees through it. When I'm frustrated, I tell him. When I'm sad, I tell him. When I'm anxious, I tell him. No matter what it is, I tell him. While I think it is okay to express my frustrations and anxieties to Him (after all, He already knows my heart), sometimes I just need a little perspective and all of a sudden, my thought process changes. Rather than dwelling on cirumstances I can't change, I choose to believe that God is on my side and he has my best in mind. He reminds me that his best for me is not always what I think is best for me. Other times, it may be. I sometimes pray with words that I don't truly mean, but as I talk to him, I beg him to help me pray them sincerely.

I realize I fight a tough battle here on earth. There are people and circumstances that challenge my faith and make life difficult at times. These seasons in life cause me to yearn for the day when he returns or calls me home and all the cares and anxieties of this world will pass away. No more tears, no more sorrows; only praising him forever.

Until that time, I continue to fight as hard as I can. I refocus my perspective and regain my determination. I evaluate the important things in life and remember all my blessings. I lace up my shoes and start to jog again. Before I know it, I'm back running as fast as I can, so that I may finish well.

God reminds me that if anyone can read me like a book, it's him. After all, he's writing the words on each and every page. And as I trust him to write my story, he reminds me that he is working all things together for my good. He has a purpose and a plan; a story just for me that goes exceedingly beyond anything I can ask or imagine. The circumstances I was upset about before all of sudden hold no weight. They pale in comparison to knowing him. He reminds me, once again, that he is all I need. He is more than enough and, once again, I choose to be satisfied in him.

A Simple Smile

You're surrounded by sounds of dishes clanking, water pouring, forks and spoons dinging, and unrecognizable chatter. People are everywhere, only two that you know. The challenge is not having someone to talk to, but rather, choosing who you will talk to and how to invite yourself to their table. For someone who does not do well with conversations (especially with strangers), this is a difficult task. Completely out of your comfort zone.

One lady tells you of how she is ready for her kids to go back to school. Another says nothing. She stares as you make conversation with her father. Yet, another lady sings sweet lyrics to you from her favorite childhood song.

For a moment, you step away from the chaos and take a couple deep breaths. Remember why you're here; not for yourself. Looking for your next opportunity, you struggle with who to talk to and what you should say. For reasons of fear or wanting to avoid awkwardness, you decide to just walk around and ask everyone how they're doing and if they enjoyed their meal. You accompany these simple questions with a genuine smile. And then, you realize you don't always have to use words to show you care. You don't always have to have deep conversations and use big words. In fact, for some situations, no words are needed. At these times, all you have to do is offer a simple smile. Smiles are universal. They break racial and socioeconomical boundaries. Cliché? Yes. Truth? Yes.

After your small revelation and giving out a few more smiles, you muster up the courage to go talk to one more person before leaving. This lady is alone; surrounded by seven other little bodies, but none the less, alone. She is strong; she has no choice. Someone has to be for her little ones. She is patient and surprisingly calm. She talks as if she's been waiting for someone like you to show up. It doesn't matter if you're really listening, she's just glad to have your company. Once the conversation winds down, you tell her you aren't sure when you'll see her again. She asks about your church service and you give her the details. You give a goodbye with genuine hopes of seeing her soon and off you go, leaving her with a simple smile.

The Story of the Poptart

When preparing for our mission trip to Jamaica, I packed a good amount of snacks, knowing I probably wouldn't each much. Supper included things like chicken foot soup, stewed chicken, rice, etc. I don't even eat regular soup.... just to give you an idea of how picky I am. This is something I know about myself and I knew it would be one challenge I'd face throughout the week. However, I was willing to put myself through this small discomfort in order to go on the trip. Needless to say, I lived on granola bars, fruit snacks (chewies), and poptarts. There were times when I was so hungry, even these snacks did not fill me up. I knew the hunger pangs were temporary and I'd soon be back home with a house full of food, so I tried not to think about it too much.

As the week came to an end, I actually had a good bit of food left; some applesauce, a few packs of crackers, 4 packs of poptarts, and some fruit chews. Not wanting to pack it in my luggage, I decided to give away as much of it as I could and leave the rest at the house for the kids. So on our last morning, after packing, I decided to go see if the team wanted any of it before I took it to the kitchen to leave for the kids. The poptarts were the first to go. People would ask, "Are you sure you don't want them?" "Are you sure you don't want one?" I answered "no" and at the time, I honestly didn't want one. As I passed out the last one and walked back to my room, I thought, "Man, I should've kept one for myself... just in case.... I am kind of hungry." I walked back down to my room. I grabbed my bag, put my sheets in a pile, and grabbed my camera and ipod. As I finished packing things into my bookbag, I saw a shiny wrapper laying in the bottom of the front pocket. "Yes!" It was a poptart that I had packed to take out as a snack earlier in the week and had completely forgotten about. Although it was smushed and broken into about 30 pieces, it was the yummiest raspberry poptart I'd ever eaten.

God reminded me of two things:
One, that I am called to give and sacrifice in order to help others. This could be giving my money, time, energy, and or resources. I should give without expecting something in return. I should give without expecting recognition. I should give without expecting results.

Two, in the simplest way, God reminded me of how he provides for me. When I think I'm running out, he is there to fill me back up. When I can't understand, he brings clarity and peace. When I'm hungry, he feeds me. When I'm thirsty, he gives me something to drink.

He doesn't always promise us a poptart right when we think we need it, but he does promise to provide for us in every way, in his perfect time. He will meet all our needs. It may not be when or how we think he should provide for us, but his ways are higher than our ways, and we are to put our trust in him.

So, I leave you with these questions...to chew on:
(no pun intended...actually I did do that on purpose!)
-Do you know this God that I often write about, I mean really know him? If not, I challenge you to ask someone you feel comfortable with about this guy named Jesus. Find out for yourself if he is who he says he is and really did what he says he did.

-If you have a relationship with him, are you giving all your poptarts away? Are you giving them away without expecting recognition or results?

-Are you trusting that God will provide for all your needs and that he will take care of you in every way?

Hmmm... that's a lot to think on!
Until my next post.....

The Strange Transition

Emotional. One word that accurately describes arriving back in the states yesterday. We have spent the last week in Jamaica and got back home yesterday. After seeing all that we did this past week, it feels very odd to be surrounded by so much. I can't really explain the feeling. It is very odd. All week we had what we needed: food, shelter, a bed (bunk-bed style), showers (although cold), and electricity. Just the basics, but exactly what you need to live. No unnecessary "excess" stuff.

As I pull into my neighborhood, lined with two-story homes, each with at least one car filling the driveway, I can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of emotion. As I walk inside our air conditioned house, set to a particular temperature, I place my belongings on our granite countertop and take it all in. Tears stream down my face. All of the decorations, electronics, furniture; little things that we take for granted. They seem to consume the inside of the house. I wash off in our shower, lined with tile, complete with double shower heads on either wall, and at the water temperature I desire. I'm overwhelmed with just how much we have. I'm overwhelmed by this life of luxuary we live. I don't feel sorry for those who I know are still in Jamaica, because most are content with what they have, but rather, I feel very blessed. You see most live without warm water, air conditioning, shoes and clothes that fit and match, and many other small things we take for granted in America, but they are happy with what they have. Cool showers are a way of life, some even wash in the river. They have clothes on their backs, though not expensive or designer name brands. Most live day to day, with just enough to survive. We aren't rich by any stretch, at least not by American standards. But, even the poorest of the poor here in our community have far more than most I met in Jamaica. It sounds cliché, but it's so true.

On the other hand, I'm sad to be back home, for things to return to normal. In a way, I feel that when my schedule returns to normal, somehow all I've experienced will slip away. I don't want the busy-ness of this American life to crowd out the simplicity and humility I've experienced. So, I'm holding on to all the memories as tight as I can. I don't want to ever forget the faces I saw in Jamaica. I don't want to forget any of the people I met there. I don't want to forget the poverty I saw. I don't want to forget the brokenness, but I also don't want to forget the joy. I don't want to forget the lack of innocence I saw in most of the children. I don't want to forget how starved they were for attention and love. I don't want to forget their excitement over small toys from the dollar store. I don't want to forget the hunger people have there for the Gospel and good news of Jesus. Most, just waiting and desperately seeking something to hold on to. I don't want to forget how content they were with what little they had. I don't want to forget Lisa, Stephanie, or Babs. I don't want to forget the little girl who begged and begged me for water. I don't want to forget the sweet, sweet children and people who live at the house where we stayed: Deanna, Samson, Joshua, Moses, Jadah, Sheena, Felix, Bryan, Jim and Penny. I don't want to forget their energy. I don't want to forget their boldness.

There are so many memories that I don't want to let slip away. I hope through journaling, pictures, and video, they will stay with me. This trip has been life changing. Words can't describe what we have experienced. I'm still trying to process it all. The people and places I saw will hopefully stay with me forever.

Are You Sure?

That's not what he meant...surely!
He wasn't talking to me.
I don't think he really wants me to do that.

All of these are 'excuses' I've given when I feel like God is telling me to do something. It can be big. It can be small. It's usually something I think will be difficult for me to do-that's why I put it off or file it in the back of my brain until the next time it comes up. God has never spoken to me audibly. I've heard very few people who have claimed that he has spoken audibly to them. BUT, there are times where I know he is telling me to do certain things, and often times, I just blow him off. I was going to word that a little more gently, but I'm just telling it how it is. I ignore him. I pretend I don't know what he wants me to do and I make all kinds of excuses for putting off whatever IT is. I ignore him for a little while and then the same thing pops back up again. And I think, God, are you sure? I mean, is that really what you want me to do? Of course he's sure, he's God. He's in control of all things.

I'm not sure if any of you are like me in this way, doubting God in this way. Do I put these things off because of fear? Often times I fear what people will think of me. I fear I won't be able to do whatever it is he wants me to do, due to lack of knowledge or resources. I don't believe he will walk with me through it. I doubt that he could really want to use me to do, well, anything.

God calls ordinary people to do extraordinary things. I know this is true, but sometimes I don't live like it's true. This means he uses regular people like me to do incredible things for him-not because there's anything great about me, but because everything is great about him! God is always with me, through each step of my journey in life. This should comfort me-always-but sometimes I allow fears and anxieties to choke out this truth. These are some things I say I believe, but at times I don't really live them out in my life.

I want to encourage you, as I encourage myself at the same time: whatever it is that God is calling you to do right now, have the faith to do it. Don't question God. Don't ask him if he's sure. Don't ignore him. Just step out in faith. Believe he will guide each step, because he will.

Oh, and this post was definitely directed at myself, but maybe some of you can benefit from it as well!