Joy To The World December 9, 2010

“Do not be afraid. I will bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people. Today in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.” Luke 2:10-11

Christmas has not been very joyful for me this year. I’m usually a pretty jolly gal, but when you are far away from the friends and family who know you and love you the best, Christmas gets rough.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about things in my life I don’t have. And the more I dwell in the snow bank of discontent, the less I feel joyous about Christmas trees, lights, candy canes, snow animals with cute smiling faces….

It took a lot out of me to make the effort to take out what little Christmas decorations I had and put them up, and I still cringe at Christmas music.

Right now I am reading Desiring God by John Piper and it has exposed my joyless attitude even more. Piper’s signature slogan, the crux of his argument for Christian Hedonism, is:

“The whole duty of man is to glorify God and enJOY him forever.” There is that nasty word again. JOY. aka. unbiased happiness.

Jesus is JOY. Whether you get a bigger paycheck this Christmas, your family stays comfortable and safe, or on the flip side you lose a loved one in a tragic accident or sit at home alone in a town you barely know or like……….we can have JOY.

I know many people are struggling through this concept right now, especially at Christmas when we can’t get everything we want tied up neatly in a sparkling bow. But, I am reminded of that night when the light of the world came, and poor shepherds stood in awe, and kings bowed down, and the angels sang.

Why so joyous? Because God came to earth to become human and share in the pains of man. Jesus, God the creator, is with us. We can enJOY his presence, and not think about all of the stupid things we lack that we don’t even really need.

We have JOY incarnate.

 

 

God had plans October 30, 2010

I have been nervous about this trip to Honduras for months. I was assigned to write for a big project on animal and agriculture programs this past summer. And like many other areas in my life, I began to worry. I came up with a vision of how I wanted to write about the projects, but wondered if the stories I would gather in Honduras would actually match that vision. Since I got here, I have felt very tense about everything as a result.

But God had plans.

I seem to always forget about this. God always has a plan. He always works it out long before any problem hits me in the face. A story I covered today reminded me of that fact.

I woke up at 5 am and somehow made it to the car 15 minutes later. Then we drove to the community of Yoro, which had a bad harvest season this year because of the scorching heat. Many families became desperate for food. But this problem is not new to Yoro. For years, they have been struggling to earn enough money to survive and have been praying for someone to help them.

When I hopped out of the car this morning after a long, early-morning drive, I was ready to go at it and start talking to people. I was excited to be at a real animal distribution. Samaritan’s Purse was giving out 18 cows to families. Instead of hearing the stories months after the main event, I would finally get to see everyone’s reaction in the moment.

Cristine, the program manager, introduced me to a mother of 7 children, Lydia, who was about to receive a cow. I found out later, after I interviewed her, that she was a part of the reason Samaritan’s Purse began working there.

One of the SP staff members, Carlos, came to Yoro a few months ago to survey the area and see if they could start an animal project. As he was walking on the streets, he saw a woman sitting on the side of the road with 3 children. She was reading the Bible to them. Carlos said he felt in his heart that he should go up to her and talk to her.

She said that her family didn’t have a lot of money, and life was hard, but that she was thankful for Jesus Christ and believed he would provide for their needs. Carlos was happy to tell her that Samaritan’s Purse would like to answer their prayers and help them.

The woman Carlos talked to was Lydia.

This was no accident. God had clearly orchestrated that meeting, as well as my conversation with Lydia about that important day. It seemed like a miracle that I discovered that aspect of the story.

I also talked to the pastor of the local church. He told me:

“We felt God had plans for us for a long time; we didn’t know what they were until today.”

I think that this is often the case in the struggle of our faith in God’s plans. We have a sense that God has something special in store for us, but still wonder if He will come through.

God has really come through for me on this trip. Of course there have been problems, unforeseen complications, and even some danger. But, God had plans.

Once again, he has shown me that His love and concern for me will never fail.

I love you goat October 27, 2010

So I am really tired after our first day on the job. We covered a lot of stories, met with a lot of people, even suited up in a beekeeping outfit. We had a great day, and I am excited to see more. So, I thought I would share a few special photos with you from day two of our trip. I’ll share more details later.

I actually like goats, except for the fact they tried to eat my jeans, bag, and reporter’s notebook! These guys were pretty fun to watch.

 

 

 

 

88 minutes October 26, 2010

They say someone is murdered every 88 minutes in Honduras. Well today I witnessed the statistic come to life as I saw a bloody victim about 88 minutes after arriving in the country.

Our communications team flew into San Pedro Sula this afternoon–the second largest city in Honduras, and the second most violent city in the Western Hemisphere. As we took the two-hour journey to Santa Barbara, I talked to Country Director Brad Phillips about some of his experiences. In the 17 years he has lived here, Brad has been robbed 7 times.

“You can ask anyone in this area, and they would tell you they have been held at gun or knife point multiple times,” he told me. “Soccer or murder is always on the front page of every newspaper.”

I stared out the window of our car, looking up at the emerald mountains and hazy skies as we drove through the valley towards the hills. But I broke out of my trance quickly as our car slowed and we approached a large gathering of people in the streets.

My scenery changed from beautiful to bloody in a matter of seconds. There was a truck stopped in the middle of the road ridden with bullets. As we passed it on the right, I continued to stare out my window.

A body was laying facedown underneath the truck. His head had been blown into pieces from the gunshots and the road was soaked with blood.

I could barely believe what I was seeing. I probably looked like everyone else on the streets, staring in horror like a child lost on the front lines of war.

But I couldn’t take any more of the spectacle in and turned my eyes away.

“It’s common to see a dead body on the side of the road as you are driving,” Brad said as we went by. “I guess we’re just jaded now from seeing it all the time.”

The rest of our trip was coated with conversation to distract our minds and hearts from the bloodshed and the fear.

Later, we found out that the driver got caught in a drug war. More than 100 bullets flew as he tried to escape the attack. We had been traveling on a road that is commonly used to traffic drugs into Mexico from Guatemala.

I thought to myself,  ”I’m definitely not in the Boonies anymore. The last time I saw a dead body was at my grandmother’s funeral. I wonder what else we will come across in 88 minutes.”

The rest of the ride was more colorful for me as I observed different animals roaming along the side of the road–cows, donkeys, chickens. They all looked like puppies that had wandered from home. I asked Monica Napier, the program development officer, about it, and apparently the animals either escape from their fields or young shepherd boys get distracted and lose track of their livestock.

A black cow welcomed us at the entrance of our hotel as we drove through the gate. We were there to learn more about Samaritan’s Purse’s animal and agriculture projects, and it seemed to me like we would not have any trouble finding any. Animals were everywhere in Honduras.

After our team settled in, I decided to go with some of the staff into town. Cristina, animal and agriculture program coordinator, had to pick up a few things. I waited in the car with Marcos (another member of the Honduras office staff)  and Monica. I looked to my right and saw two young girls playing in the streets near a small cart of candy. Both of them looked as if they had been playing in the mud all day. Once they discovered I was trying to take pictures of their games, they ran up to our car and stuck their heads in the windows.

“photo! photo!” they screamed. A young boy also ran up to us. But he wasn’t camera-shy like the girls. Monica began to talk to them and found out their father is in prison and their mother was doing laundry at the house.

We bought some candy from them–lollipops and gum. Just as we said goodbye they all gave us peace signs. “Why would they wave peace signs at us?” I thought. Maybe this was a way of crying for peace in a place where you can’t walk the streets without getting robbed.

In Honduras, children typically do not get past the 6th grade, or have fathers stay with them in the home. Many of their dads leave to try to find jobs in San Pedro Sula. The kids either drop out themselves or are sent to work to provide for their families. Samaritan’s Purse is aiming to keep these families together by helping the fathers find work in the rural areas they live in. Instead of going to work in factories, they can get help from us and farm the land.

I’m excited to see our work in action. Tomorrow we are going to visit some of our beekeeping projects. Matt Powell, our photographer, seemed to be very excited about getting into the protective gear so he could get some shots of the bees up close and personal. Producer Joe Benson, Audio/Sound Technician Peter Messengale, and I will be doing some interviews in a few villages while Matt and Videographer Ryan Smith get some various footage of our location.

I’m starting to understand why the people of Honduras have struggled for so long to build and develop their nation. There is so much fear here, but I am so glad Samaritan’s Purse is giving people hope so that they don’t have to worry about their future every 88 minutes.

Heaven September 22, 2010

This past weekend I went to a wedding in Macedonia, Ohio. The bride, Elle, is one of my closest friends from college; we did ministry together at a church in Chicago and had many late-night adventures so that we could escape from the pressures of life…even if it just was for a little while.

One of those adventures was driving outside of the big city to go wedding dress shopping at a designer boutique–Pricilla of Boston. It was a sunny, blue-skyed day with a spring chill in the air. Elle and I blasted some sweet music while we were on the highway (trying to follow my GPS) and talked about our dreams of the future.

The plan was to try on dresses and find the perfect style so that it could be made for less money. Elle’s mom had saved $500 for her, so we had to stick to that budget. We  grabbed bunches of gowns, took a million pictures, then ate some frozen yogurt on the trip back to our crazy lives in the city.

A few weeks later, Elle got a call from the bridal shop saying there would be a sample sale in a few weeks. By that point, I had shoved my life into a U-Haul trailer and moved to Boone, so I didn’t get to go shopping with her the second round, but on the day of the wedding I was so excited to hear the rest of the story.

Elle found her dream dress at the sample sale for exactly $500. The name of the dress?? HEAVEN. As I talked to Paul about it, he seemed to think the name fit perfectly. Little did I know I would be cutting some of it’s tool to shreds on the wedding day….but that’s a different story.

Ever since I got back from the wedding, I’ve been dreaming of my own special day when I get to walk down the aisle. It is always hard to watch your friends get married, for a lot of reasons, but more than anything, what stuck out to me on that day was Heaven. Not the dress, but how marriage points to heaven.

The ceremony was in an open field surrounded by oak trees and started at twilight, just as the sunlight fell into the crevices of the leaves. Everything was decorated with tea candles, wildflowers, and white linens. A woman read 1 Corinthians 13 and the pastor talked about the love of Christ for the Church and the faithful commitment of the Church to Jesus. A small band played “How He loves us,” and as we all worshipped and meditated on the pure love of the Father, I felt His Spirit telling me that this was just a glimpse of the purity and beauty of Heaven when Christ restores all things to himself.

No one’s wedding day is absolutely perfect, but in that moment when both of them committed their lives to each other I was encouraged because it reflected Christ’s commitment to me as one of His children. He will care for me and love me with all of His heart for eternity.

It is hard to be patient in singleness, but as I am often reminded in my church community at Journey, I am not hoping in a wedding, or a spouse, or any other treasure on this earth, I am hoping in Jesus. I was overjoyed to have seen a glimpse of Heaven on September 17th. It made me long for the eternal wedding day when the old is past, new has come, and all pain and suffering is gone.

Ephesians 5:25-30

²⁵Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her ²⁶to make her holy, cleansing^[b] her by the washing with water through the word, ²⁷and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. ²⁸In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. ²⁹After all, no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it, just as Christ does the church— ³⁰for we are members of his body. ³¹“

Swimming Upstream August 29, 2010

“If life is a river, then pursuing Christ requires swimming upstream. When we stop swimming, or actively following Him, we automatically begin to be swept downstream.” –Francis Chan, Crazy Love

For most of my life, I have believed that if I was not reading the Bible every day, or praying, or serving God in some way, that I simply was not growing in my faith–that I was static and just not moving forward.

This statement by Francis Chan really changed my perspective. If I am not active in my faith, then I am not static, I am actually allowing myself to drift away from Christ. Because of our horrifically sinful hearts, we are always inclined to fall away from Him, rather than towards Him. So, if I simply stop swimming, I am not sitting in a lake, I am being swept away in the river’s forceful current.

It is so easy to get caught up in the fruitless, vain distractions of this world. It can be a myriad of things–music, tv, movies, friends….These things are not inherently bad, but they do have a strong influence on our lives. And if we are not pursuing Christ, even in these little things, we will get swept away.

That is why I love Hebrews 12 so much. “Let us keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith…” Take your eyes off of Him, and you will sink in the river. Keep them on Christ, and you will walk on water.

I don’t know what is distracting you right now, or what kind of troubles may be consuming your time and thoughts, but we’ve got to keep swimming upstream. And this is not meant to be another religious ritual, or a way for you to earn favor with God, because it can’t be earned. But, if we are in LOVE with a God who is in CRAZY LOVE with us, then swimming upstream won’t be a task you hate like running the mile in gym class. It will be an exhilarating and exciting adventure.

Elvis and the Tin Man July 24, 2010

The day I am incapable of change is the day I want to die. If one day I refuse to listen to others, to allow people to challenge what I think and feel about the universe, theology, the meaning of life….then I simply should not exist anymore.
Because the day we all refuse to change is the day we lose the ability to truly participate in God’s mission. If we are not able to change, we can’t change anything else around us. If we can’t change, everything we do becomes more about our own interests and less about God shaping us into His perfect image.
I recently got around to finishing Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. I’ve been reading a number of books that challenge the way we think about Christianity and the church. He says that the Church must always be changing…kind of like a painting of Elvis. His image is shaped by society, by culture, by the times. And since the Church is made up of individuals, this statement is applied to every person as well.

Although I do think we should always be willing to change, the danger is what we allow to change us and why.
What if one day a little southern Baptist church became overrun with hippies and all of a sudden the congregation began to worship to rock and roll, have dread locks, and come to church barefoot?
Should we be alarmed? Bell would say it’s a good thing. They are inviting culture into the church doors to participate with them, and are being more relevant. Others would argue that soon they’ll be smoking pot and rioting the streets.

But my question is, why are we changing? What is the motivation? Are we changing for some selfish interest, someone else, or for Jesus?

This past weekend I went shopping in downtown Boone with my brother and a few friends. I wanted to show him what the culture is like in the mountains of North Carolina, so I took him to the Dancing Moon and showed him tarot cards, wizardry Bibles, and statues of Buddha. Then I took him to Indo—a clothing store for Woodstock and McCartney lovers where you can barely breathe because of the incense burning in every corner of the store.

I began to shop for a dress for contra dancing. I went recently and really enjoyed it, but I didn’t really fit into the scene. I didn’t own cowboy boots or long, sequined gypsy skirts at the time, so I decided to look for something to wear. All of a sudden I began to have a crisis of identity. Is it OK that all of a sudden I’m buying tie-dye when the last time I wore it was for Halloween? Do I really like tie-dye? Is it a big deal if all of a sudden I did wear tie-dye and cowboy boots? What does it look like for me to immerse myself in another culture, but remain founded upon who I really am?  Am I trying to be something I’m not?

I know my friends in Chicago would probably be on the floor laughing at some point if I did stop bathing, got dreads and wore cowboy boots, but how do I resolve this culture confrontation? Can I go from leather pants to velvet jumpsuit without becoming a total fraud? I’m still Elvis, just a different kind of Elvis.
Or will I be like the tin man? I’m frozen in time with a metal shell that doesn’t allow anything to penetrate to my insides. I’ll just sit in the forest and watch everything change around me.

Back to the Baptist church. For 100 years the members have been wearing suits and ties and nice dresses to services. If you were to ask them why, they would say because that’s what we have always done, that’s what my parents did. Rarely will they ever give you a reason based upon theology.

“Well if you open up to Leviticus 19, you will see that the priests dressed their best for worshipping God, so that is why we do too.”

Although I suppose that could be a good reason, no one ever brings that up. It’s more about tradition and culture. Conforming to a society that has certain standards people must follow.

OK, so one day the pastor decides he is tired of suits and ties. He likes tie-dye now. From now on he declares that everyone should wear tie dye t-shirts, sneakers, and jeans. They will still worship God, they still study the Bible, they still serve others in their community. They will just do it in tie dye rather that in a suit.

What’s the big deal then?

Everything we do is an extension of who we are. That goes from how we fix our eggs for breakfast to feeding the hungry. However, feeding the hungry is an indicator of what our heart is like, whereas eating scrambled eggs instead of fried is an indicator of what our stomach is like. The difference is that we make eating scrambled instead of fried a heart issue, rather than a stomach issue.We make wearing leather, not velvet, a big deal when Elvis is still singing “you ain’t nothin but a hound dog…”

So how do we resolve the fight between Elvis and the tin man?
Ask yourself why. Why am I wearing leather instead of velvet? Or…why have I chosen to stand still in the forest, barricading my heart in tin?

Culture…Tradition…Personal preference….Comfort….?

I think we need to focus on the things that truly matter—the heart issues—but also think about why we really do things the way we do. If the Baptists did really like tie-dye but kept singing Amazing Grace, do we have grounds to freak out or judge them?

I didn’t end up buying tie-dye. I don’t really like it. It’s too bright and the swirls give me a headache. But I did buy a new dress at Indo, different from anything I own.  And I like it….a lot. If I had found a velvet jumpsuit I might have bought that too…

Just kidding.