My favorite book of the Bible is Acts, at least of those that I've read all the way through.
I'm drawn even to the title of the book. Acts. It implies action. It implies that you cannot remain in your faith, but rather you must act on it.
I love reading about how the church was started. About how a small group of people literally changed the world because they were so passionate about what they believed.
I love to read about the martyrs, about the many times Peter and John go to jail for preaching and doing miracles through Jesus' name. About the miraculous things that the disciples can do through the Holy Spirit.
I love reading about how Paul comes to know Christ. It amazes me that someone as "bad" as him can be placed in the Bible as one of our biggest role models today.
But my favorite part of Acts is their radical faith. Those men and women love Jesus. They believe in Jesus with every fiber of their being. And because of their love and their belief, they receive the Holy Spirit. And through the Holy Spirit they speak in different languages, they make paralyzed men walk, they lead thousands and thousands to the truth of the Gospel.
One of my favorite passages in Acts is chapter 7, verses 17-40.
It tells of the apostles being imprisoned for preaching in the name of Jesus. But during the night, an angel of the Lord came and freed them. Amazing as this is, it is not the most amazing part to me.
For the apostles are brought to the Council a second time, because in spite of their imprisonment, they are still preaching in Jesus' name.
And when asked why they had continued to preach in Jesus' name, the apostles even shared the Gospel with the Pharisees! The men who killed their Lord! The men who would sooner see them killed than convert to Christianity!
Finding no reason to condemn them to death, the Pharisees settled with whipping each of them, and ordering them not to preach in the name of Jesus.
And, this is the amazing part. When the apostles left, they still preached in the name of Jesus! They told everybody! They didn't move away, they didn't try and be more discreet about it, they just kept preaching the gospel!
And the best is verse 41.
"So they went on their way from the presence of the Council, rejoicing because they had been considered worthy to suffer shame for His name."
The apostles rejoiced over the Pharisees scorn. They rejoiced over being sent to jail, over being flogged.
Because they were worthy to suffer for God.
How much our lives would change if we thought that way!
Levi is aggressive all the time. But, thank you God for considering us worthy to handle it!
I'm not in Peru. But, I praise you God, because you consider me worthy to be here instead of where I desire to be!
I don't want to go to school. But, O God, I am so grateful that you consider me worthy to deal with something I don't want to do.
It's backwards from today's thinking. Our world is completely focused on what we feel at the moment. This is what I want. This is how I feel. This is what I'm experiencing right now.
But if we look with God's eyes, we see that everything we suffer, everything we enjoy, every mundane detail of our lives is a gift from God.
Whether it be school, a glass of juice in the morning, or even doing chores, it is what God intended for us. I have a decision every morning. I can wake up and be upset that I have to get up for school, or I can understand that God thought I could handle this. God wants me to be here, and He wants me to be there for a reason.
I can walk through every day understanding that, yes, I do feel called to Peru. But God wants me here. God considers me to be strong enough to stand not being where I would rather be.
I am learning, slowly, to trust that everything I go through, I go through because God considers me worthy of it. Because God considers me strong enough to handle it.
Although, it's somewhat backwards. I, by myself, am able to handle nothing - no struggle, no temptation, no trial. But, if I lean on God's strength, I can handle anything.
When God measures our strength, He is not measuring any willpower of our own, but rather our tendency to lean fully and completely on His strength.
For me, I want to rejoice because I am worthy to suffer. Because the more I suffer, the more worthy He considers me, and the more I am learning to lean on His strength.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
The Devil's Plot
I told myself I wouldn't let this happen. That I wouldn't let myself become so focused on the past that I couldn't live in the present. That I would be strong. I would take what I had learned, and apply to life here.
How foolish I was to think that by preparing myself, I could just jump right back in.
There's an empty, achiness in my heart that refuses to go away. I constantly feel tears spring into my eyes at the thought of anything to do with Peru or Sagrada Familia. And I find myself being listless. There's plenty to do with school starting soon, but I don't want to do any of it.
The only thing I want is to go back to Peru.
It started earlier this year. Earlier than it ever has. I think because I wasn't sick. While that was a blessing, it has made the return much more difficult. I wasn't ready to leave. Before, I had been ready. I was ready to come back to the United States. I was tired and I was sick and I just wanted to get home.
But this time I felt fine. I felt like I could stay for much longer, and be fine. Honestly, I didn't even miss home very much.
I miss the smell of Peru. The feel of the cool wind whipping around the hills. The view of the majestic mountains that you get from anywhere. I miss driving past the hills and seeing shacks that are precariously built on the sides of mountains. I miss hearing everyone talk in Spanish, whether I can understand it or not. I miss my friends. I miss the raw emotions that are shared in Peru. I miss waking up every morning in the same room with girls who I love dearly and getting to spend all day doing what we all know is God's work together. I miss the deep friendships that are formed.
I miss Sagrada Familia. The place where God changed my life forever. The paintings on their walls. The joy in their faces. The way they all want you to hold their hands and look into their eyes. I miss having Carmencita's arms wrapped around my neck. I miss her touching my hair and then hers and saying, "pelo". I miss her saying my name. I miss seeing her smile, hearing her laugh.
And I just feel angry. I feel lost. I feel alone. Like no one quite gets it and the people that do don't want to talk about it. I feel like I'm trapped inside a tiny box and I'm pushing so hard to get out of it, but the iron bars don't budge.
I miss my Peru team. I miss having someone there every second of every day to hear and understand. To comfort you when you need comfort. To give you a hug when you really need a hug. To listen when you need someone to listen. And to encourage you when you need encouragement.
I seek solitude more than ever, which is not good. The only people I want to be with are people who have experienced the same or similar things that I have. I get so frustrated and beat down being at home surrounded by people who are younger than me, people that I have to pour into, that I just leave.
I went on a 4-mile walk and listened to angry Lecrae songs today in 90º heat. I just feel out of sorts and angry and alone and worthless. Which is ironic because not even a full week ago, I was sharing with 900 orphans how much we're worth in Christ.
Make me to hear joy and gladness,
Let the bones which you have broken rejoice.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation
And grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.
- Psalm 51:8,12
How foolish I was to think that by preparing myself, I could just jump right back in.
There's an empty, achiness in my heart that refuses to go away. I constantly feel tears spring into my eyes at the thought of anything to do with Peru or Sagrada Familia. And I find myself being listless. There's plenty to do with school starting soon, but I don't want to do any of it.
The only thing I want is to go back to Peru.
It started earlier this year. Earlier than it ever has. I think because I wasn't sick. While that was a blessing, it has made the return much more difficult. I wasn't ready to leave. Before, I had been ready. I was ready to come back to the United States. I was tired and I was sick and I just wanted to get home.
But this time I felt fine. I felt like I could stay for much longer, and be fine. Honestly, I didn't even miss home very much.
I miss the smell of Peru. The feel of the cool wind whipping around the hills. The view of the majestic mountains that you get from anywhere. I miss driving past the hills and seeing shacks that are precariously built on the sides of mountains. I miss hearing everyone talk in Spanish, whether I can understand it or not. I miss my friends. I miss the raw emotions that are shared in Peru. I miss waking up every morning in the same room with girls who I love dearly and getting to spend all day doing what we all know is God's work together. I miss the deep friendships that are formed.
I miss Sagrada Familia. The place where God changed my life forever. The paintings on their walls. The joy in their faces. The way they all want you to hold their hands and look into their eyes. I miss having Carmencita's arms wrapped around my neck. I miss her touching my hair and then hers and saying, "pelo". I miss her saying my name. I miss seeing her smile, hearing her laugh.
And I just feel angry. I feel lost. I feel alone. Like no one quite gets it and the people that do don't want to talk about it. I feel like I'm trapped inside a tiny box and I'm pushing so hard to get out of it, but the iron bars don't budge.
I miss my Peru team. I miss having someone there every second of every day to hear and understand. To comfort you when you need comfort. To give you a hug when you really need a hug. To listen when you need someone to listen. And to encourage you when you need encouragement.
I seek solitude more than ever, which is not good. The only people I want to be with are people who have experienced the same or similar things that I have. I get so frustrated and beat down being at home surrounded by people who are younger than me, people that I have to pour into, that I just leave.
I went on a 4-mile walk and listened to angry Lecrae songs today in 90º heat. I just feel out of sorts and angry and alone and worthless. Which is ironic because not even a full week ago, I was sharing with 900 orphans how much we're worth in Christ.
Make me to hear joy and gladness,
Let the bones which you have broken rejoice.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation
And grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.
- Psalm 51:8,12
Sunday, July 31, 2011
The Hardest Part is Coming Home
Coming back from Peru never gets easier. The first few hours I was home, I was just happy to see my family. But then I started to feel that familiar pit in my stomach, that familiar ache in my heart.
What was it? Sadness that such an incredible experience had come to an end? A longing for Carmencita and Sagrada Familia? Missing my team members, who I had grown so close to? Feeling completely useless and out of my element now that I'm not spending every day tangibly showing the love of God?
All of the above. But I am trying to allow God to lead my heart and patch it up this time. Last year, I dwelled on the past for far too long. And that showed in my grades in school, my interactions with my family, and even my relationships with friends. I let Peru define who I was, which was a good thing, but I forgot to hold onto the good parts of myself from before.
I am trying to go to God with my broken heart that screams that I wasn't ready to leave. I wasn't ready to come back to "reality". That He wasn't finished with me there. That I could have spent months more at Sagrada Familia. That I want to wake up every morning surrounded by people who are just as passionate about God's work as I am.
My heart is aching right now. But I know that God has me here in the United States for a reason. That His work here is just as important as His work in Peru.
While I truly, truly enjoyed the entire trip, every activity we participated in, these are a few of the highlights.
Maybe some of you remember Cesár, the little boy with cerebral palsy I met last year? Well, I saw him again! Words cannot express how much joy that boy brought to me. You might also remember that he was in a wheelchair last year, and this year he was walking! God truly is performing miracles in that boy's life. I got to meet his mom and his little sister, and his mom said they got the box of goodies and the children's Bible I sent him! Oh, how I love that boy!
The single most incredible day of the trip, and one of the best days of my life was Worthday at Sagrada Familia! Seeing something that we'd been planning and working toward for months come to life was just indescribable. But the best part of that day was, by far, seeing Carmencita.
When we went to the baby house early in the morning, they were sending the kids down the stairs one by one as they got their baths. I knew Carmencita would be last because she can't walk down the stairs by herself. But I waited. I'm not really sure why. Maybe because she's so often last in that place, I wanted her to be first for something.
It was worth the wait when she came down the stairs. I looked into her eyes and said her name and her face lit up! She jumped into my arms and held on tight, grabbing onto my hair, my clothes, anything, and saying "Mi amiga! Mi amiga!" over and over again. Oh, how I love that girl. I got to spend more time with her than ever before this time. Although, saying goodbye never gets easier. She was sobbing so hard I think she almost threw up, grabbing onto me with a death grip so that she was nearly dragging behind me. She even bit me a few times she was so upset. I miss her like crazy already.
Another highlight was meeting a little boy named Davíd. He was the son of the woman we shadowed for a day, who was a single mom. This three-year-old boy goes to work in the market selling trinkets every day with his mom. After we were done shadowing, we took "our Peruvians" back to the church for a lunch and ceremony. The majority of the three-hour ceremony, I was in the back with Davíd, playing with bubbles and playdoh. That little boy was so sweet! I loved him so much.
All in all, it was an incredible trip. By far, my favorite of the year. It made me want to pursue staying at Sagrada Familia next summer even more. If you could keep me and my team in your prayers now more than ever, it would be greatly appreciated. Coming back is the hardest part of the mission trip. It's hard for us to move on.
Dios te bendiga!
What was it? Sadness that such an incredible experience had come to an end? A longing for Carmencita and Sagrada Familia? Missing my team members, who I had grown so close to? Feeling completely useless and out of my element now that I'm not spending every day tangibly showing the love of God?
All of the above. But I am trying to allow God to lead my heart and patch it up this time. Last year, I dwelled on the past for far too long. And that showed in my grades in school, my interactions with my family, and even my relationships with friends. I let Peru define who I was, which was a good thing, but I forgot to hold onto the good parts of myself from before.
I am trying to go to God with my broken heart that screams that I wasn't ready to leave. I wasn't ready to come back to "reality". That He wasn't finished with me there. That I could have spent months more at Sagrada Familia. That I want to wake up every morning surrounded by people who are just as passionate about God's work as I am.
My heart is aching right now. But I know that God has me here in the United States for a reason. That His work here is just as important as His work in Peru.
While I truly, truly enjoyed the entire trip, every activity we participated in, these are a few of the highlights.
Maybe some of you remember Cesár, the little boy with cerebral palsy I met last year? Well, I saw him again! Words cannot express how much joy that boy brought to me. You might also remember that he was in a wheelchair last year, and this year he was walking! God truly is performing miracles in that boy's life. I got to meet his mom and his little sister, and his mom said they got the box of goodies and the children's Bible I sent him! Oh, how I love that boy!
The single most incredible day of the trip, and one of the best days of my life was Worthday at Sagrada Familia! Seeing something that we'd been planning and working toward for months come to life was just indescribable. But the best part of that day was, by far, seeing Carmencita.
When we went to the baby house early in the morning, they were sending the kids down the stairs one by one as they got their baths. I knew Carmencita would be last because she can't walk down the stairs by herself. But I waited. I'm not really sure why. Maybe because she's so often last in that place, I wanted her to be first for something.
It was worth the wait when she came down the stairs. I looked into her eyes and said her name and her face lit up! She jumped into my arms and held on tight, grabbing onto my hair, my clothes, anything, and saying "Mi amiga! Mi amiga!" over and over again. Oh, how I love that girl. I got to spend more time with her than ever before this time. Although, saying goodbye never gets easier. She was sobbing so hard I think she almost threw up, grabbing onto me with a death grip so that she was nearly dragging behind me. She even bit me a few times she was so upset. I miss her like crazy already.
Another highlight was meeting a little boy named Davíd. He was the son of the woman we shadowed for a day, who was a single mom. This three-year-old boy goes to work in the market selling trinkets every day with his mom. After we were done shadowing, we took "our Peruvians" back to the church for a lunch and ceremony. The majority of the three-hour ceremony, I was in the back with Davíd, playing with bubbles and playdoh. That little boy was so sweet! I loved him so much.
All in all, it was an incredible trip. By far, my favorite of the year. It made me want to pursue staying at Sagrada Familia next summer even more. If you could keep me and my team in your prayers now more than ever, it would be greatly appreciated. Coming back is the hardest part of the mission trip. It's hard for us to move on.
Dios te bendiga!
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