10-23-10

After discussing my blog with my dad and step-mom, I came to an interesting realization...I usually only write when I'm depressed. I guess it's some kind of coping mechanism or a stress releaser. Anyway, if my blog has been making you concerned or depressed, breathe a little sigh of relief for me. My life isn't all that bad, I just usually write about it when it is! I'm thinking about giving my blog a much-needed makeover soon anyways. Merry Christmas everyone!

Never Forget...

This is my last night in Minnesota. I don't know where my life is going from here. All my plans have fallen through. Now it's up to God to show me the way. As I move back to Texas, I just want to contemplate on a few things to never forget. I don't want my life to get caught up in my culture and lose what I've learned.

• Snow can be beautiful if you just stop and be quiet for a while to watch it.
• When you see sunlight streaming through a cluster of trees, get in it!
• I actually enjoyed my job, even when I didn't think I did...appreciate what you have.
• Don't rush life.
• Don't forget your priorities, values, and dreams-know what you want and who you are, and stick to it.
• Learn from your mistakes.
• Fully enjoy wherever God has you right now, if you don't, you'll recognize the blessing after you don't have it anymore.
• Spend time with friends.
• Love and serve other people...it will make you happier.
• Remember that God loves you, even when you're doing a crappy job of loving Him back.

I'm sure there's more, but that is what's on my heart right now. I guess it is summed up in this, to embrace your season with a thankful heart. If you live like this, you won't regret wasted years. It seems like I have to learn that lesson a lot.

One Nigerian Night

Another night. Another village. By this time we had traveled through so many villages, bowed before multiple chiefs, interviewed hundreds of local people who didn't have a Bible in their mother tongue. We were on a mission-to analyze the language of the Koro Wachi people, and the dozens of dialects within it, to determine whether or not a translation was necessary. I can't remember what village we were in that night. I was just a young white lady in the middle of somewhere Africa, trying to discover my part in God's bigger plan.

Our work completed for the day, we were ushered through the creaky aluminum gate into the compound of the local pastor. A cluster of tall papaya trees grew near the back. Goats and chickens settled down for the night while a kitten and puppy drew near to sniff out the newcomers. Small concrete and mud rooms surrounded us on three sides in the large open courtyard where the family gathered.

While the women took out the mammoth-sized mortar and pestle to begin pounding the yams, I slipped away with my toiletries to take a bucket bath in the outhouse. Those kind women, of course, insisted on heating the water for me first over the fire. As the water splashed over my dirty, tired body, I felt a sense of peace and renewal. Although I did not particularly like taking bucket baths and using squatty potties, I had grown accustomed to it, and for some reason this night I felt quite content with the simplicity. I combed my hair and wrapped a "kanga" around my waist, and stepped outside to join the rest of the family for dinner.

The night air was perfect. The fire blazed, and oh, how those women laughed and sang as they pounded the yams with their strong arms until it became as smooth as butter! They were giving cheerfully of themselves to honor us. As I sat back in my plastic chair to watch the billions of stars twinkling brightly in the sky, I felt so small yet so loved. Even if no one knew where I was in the world, even myself, God knew and He was watching me. The yams were bland of course, but I ate the meal, thankful for their labor of love. Eventually they noticed my fatigue, and ushered me through the darkness into a small room that was filled with freshly harvested ginger root. The pungent odor filled my nostrils and cleared my head. I crawled under the mosquito net and glanced once out the little window before closing my eyes.

My prayers were different that night. I thanked God for a bath and toilet paper. I thanked Him for a bed and food. I thanked him for people who love other people and for God Himself. I will never forget that one night in Nigeria.

Crying Heart

Spontaneous crying. Excitement at the new possibilities. More crying. The feeling of nothingness. A dull, aching heart. Wanting to do nothing. Wanting to do everything. Sleep. Feel better. Tired. Feel worse. Want to eat. It doesn't satisfy. Feel sick. More crying. Hope. Second-guessing myself. Remembering the good times. Crying a lot! Remembering the not-so-good times. Knowing that I made the right decision. Wondering. Fear. More crying. Sorrow beyond explanation. Trusting. Praying. Loneliness. Emptiness. Cold. More crying. So, this is what a broken heart feels like.

I just want to hug him. To make sure he is okay. To know that he is looking to God to find healing too. I was the one who called it off. But I can't bear the thought that I have caused him so much pain, and myself too...more than I ever thought.

Someday...

Someday I want to get my Master's degree in Islamic Studies at Columbia International University in South Carolina.

Someday I want to teach college students about Islam from the Christian perspective.

Someday I want to trek through the Middle East.

Someday I want to play the cello and classical guitar.

Someday I want to garden.

Someday I want to make natural beauty products and host tea parties.

Someday I want to write a book.

Someday I want to learn to speak another language.

Someday I want to trace my ancestry.

Someday I want to marry and have children.

Where has God placed me today? And can I enjoy it? Will He give me greater things when I am so faithless with the small things? And what do I do while I'm waiting?

Photograph © 2007 Margeaux Davis

Snow!

I woke up this morning and looked out my window, and this is what I saw...

Dreams & Visions

God speaks to me through dreams.


Okay, so you know when you have a regular dream (I have at least a dozen every night!). But you know when you have a dream that is anything but regular? It feels different. You know it holds some meaning.


Well, God speaks to me through dreams. I used to only have a really special dream once or twice a year. But I've been having a lot more of them lately. Other people have also been having visions or pictures in their heads about me too...

(from Christine R.)

She saw a picture of...me...over my head. She started crying and told me that she felt like I was really on the heart of God at that moment. He wanted me to know how much He notices me and He loves me.

(from Amanda S.)

"I saw you sitting on the floor, you were surrounded by all this 'stuff' and you were looking at it all feeling overwhelmed...knowing you had to go through it all, but not sure where to start and just feeling defeated. But in the picture Jesus was sitting on the floor with you...facing you...and He wants you to look at Him. When you looked at Him, He started to pick up the 'stuff' one thing at a time and discard it. 

Psalm 22 :8 also came to mind. Seems to be talking about Jesus and his sufferings...but also seems that it could apply to you 'she trusts in the Lord; let Him deliver her; let Him rescue her, for He delights in her.'"

Photo: David Bowman’s painting titled Security

When Selfishness Paralyzes

Argh!!!!

I can't stand myself lately! I have been noticing more and more how SELFISH I am! At first it started out with a little discontentment, that turned into depression, that turned into a huge blowout! Then it smacked me in the face that sometimes I can just be a self-centered little brat who pouts when I don't get my way!

Problem #1-Even though I recognize this, it doesn't make it any easier to get out of it! I am in a funk. I want to run away, I want to go off and have a little adventure. I don't want to buckle down and humble myself to get this thing out at the root. First of all I'm too tired. Second it's cold out, and that makes me a little cranky because I can't go out and have a nice walk while complaining to God about my woes. Third, well, I just want to have it MY way!

Problem #2 - My spirit won't let me have it my way! It wars inside of me. Because just as much as I want to do what I want to do, my spirit knows better and won't let me go and do it. I know I should be thankful for this, but sometimes it's just plain annoying!

And so...I'm sitting in a funk. Waiting to get out. Waiting to find contentment in God. Waiting until I give in and let go of my stubbornness to fully rely on Him and find my fulfillment in Him.

Family?

It's hurting. Why did I ever move away from home? Why did I ever have to have an adventurous spirit? My family thinks I am running away or building walls between me and them. The more I feel their disapproval, the more I feel I have to protect myself. I'm forgetting what it's like to have a family. I don't even know who they are anymore. And they don't know who I am. We are like complete strangers, strangers who somehow I'm strangely related to.

I can't live in my parents' house forever. I can't structure my life based on what they think of me. I love them, but I've hurt them. I've been absent in their lives, and it's eaten away at our relationship like an undiscovered cancer. You wake up one morning late in the game, only then realizing that the effects are irrevocable. I didn't mean to, I didn't want to-it just happened. Who am I and where do I belong? I feel like an orphan. My life has been so full, yet I feel so empty. What am I supposed to do?

Indian Summer

The last of the most brilliant-colored leaves have fallen to the ground, leaving behind a set of deeper, purple hughes among the thinning branches and evergreen pines. A crunchy brown carpet announces my arrival, causing squirrels to scamper away with the last of their winter store and tiny birds to flit in and out of red berry-laden trees. Geese honk the last call for their journey south. The sweet scent of pine fills my nose as I walk underneath a low-lying bough, and my footsteps are suddenly muffled by the soft needles on the path. This is Indian summer, a brief respite from the first chills of autumn before the real frost sets in, which will soon shut us indoors for many months.

Relationships & Communication

So this post isn't as whimsical and poetic as most of my previous ones, but I just want to get it out. I've always heard how crucial communication is in a relationship, but I've never had to really practice it...until now. I always thought I was the easiest person in the world to get along with, that is, of course, when it was just me. But now that I'm in a relationship with a significant other, I've realized quite a few new things about myself.

1. I tend to keep my thoughts to myself
2. I tend to keep my thoughts to myself...until they build up
3. When they build up, they tend to come out at the most inconvenient times in the most unpleasant sort of ways
4. I don't like thinking I'm at fault
5. I want to memorize Philippians 2 again

Okay, maybe those aren't hugely new revelations to me, but they're just in my face a lot more nowadays. This has been a sort of learn-as-you-go-along experience for me, which totally does not fit in with my organized little personality! My life isn't "perfect" anymore, but maybe if we learn to let "iron sharpen iron", we will come out as genuinely better people than the "perfect" people we were before.

Death Is In The Air

Red, orange, and yellow autumn leaves are swirling around outside my window, laughing and calling me to join their dance up…down…around. Fall is here, and while it is beautiful, a slight twinge of sorrow in my belly reminds me of what this season is signaling. Death is in the air. Everything that was once fresh and full of life is coming to an end…again. Funny how the literal seasons often reflect the seasons of a soul. Stranger still is how God uses sorrow, death, and distance to make us hunger for Him even more intensely. Death is in the air. But it is good, because with death comes the promise and hope of new life.

A Dream...

My Dream (night of 8/20/10)

There was a dark forest with scary, scraggly trees. It represented my depression. There was a girl next to me, and she asked something like, "Why are you afraid? Why are you afraid to love?"

It upset me, and I was frustrated with myself because I knew I couldn't love. So I ran hard and fast towards the dark forest.

For those who have not experienced chronic depression, it may be difficult to understand someone who lives with it. While it is utterly paralyzing, it is strangely comforting. While we hate loneliness, Loneliness is our friend. Depression is an escape inside ourselves. And when I don't want to muster up the courage and energy to face the world, I run away inside of me. But God gave me a word for this fall that I would find rest in Him, and that He would give me courage...courage to love.

Love & Pain

    Much-Afraid shrank back. "I am afraid," she said. "I have been told that if you really love someone you give that loved one the power to hurt and pain you in a way nothing else can."

    "That is true," agreed the Shepherd. "To love does mean to put yourself into the power of the loved one and to become very vulnerable to pain, and you are very Much-Afraid of pain, are you not?"

    She nodded miserably and then said shamefacedly, "Yes, very much afraid of it."

    "But it is so happy to love," said the Shepherd quietly. "It is happy to love even if you are not loved in return. There is pain too, certainly, but Love does not think that very significant."

    Much-Afraid thought suddenly that he had the most patient eyes she had ever seen. At the same time there was something in them that hurt her to the heart, though she could not have said why, but she still shrank back in fear and said (bringing the words out very quickly because somehow she was ashamed to say them), "I would never dare to love unless I were sure of being loved in return. If I let you plant the seed of Love in my heart will you give me the promise that I shall be loved in return? I couldn't bear it otherwise."

    The smile he turned on her then was the gentlest and kindest she had ever seen, yet once again, and for the same indefinable reason as before, it cut her to the quick. "Yes," he said, without hesitation, "I promise you, Much-Afraid, that when the plant of Love is ready to bloom in your heart and when you are ready to change your name, then you will be loved in return."

-excerpt from Hinds' Feet On High Places by Hannah Hurnard

I, too, am very much afraid of love. I long for it from the depths of my being!...but it scares me so much that I want to run away and hide. What is this love?! So uninhibited, so vulnerable, so unknowing! We are dying for this love while at the same time building walls of protection against it. It is fierce, untamed, dangerous. Jesus did it. And those He loved most abandoned Him. I want to love...but will I be loved in return? I am scared.

The Bride God Chooses

     He headed into the night, unaware of where he was going. He had to think. He wanted to hide; he felt ashamed for leaving her. But it was precisely what she wanted.

     Thomas rounded a boulder and headed along white sand, deeper into the canyon. In the morning I will take her back. His vision blurred with moisture. I have no choice. It's what she wants. If she can't recognize a gift when she sees one, she hardly deserves it, does she? She should be running to the red pools, but she's talking about going back.

     A tear leaked down his cheek.

     "Where are you going?"

      Thomas spun toward the voice on his left.

      Justin!

      Could it be? He stepped back, blinking.

      Yes, Justin. He wasn't smiling this time, and his jaw was firm.

      "Justin?"

      Justin glanced back toward the boulders that hid the camp. "You left her."

     "I..." Thomas didn't know that to say. Why had he seen Justin twice in one week? And why was Justin so interested in Chelise?

     Justin faced him, green eyes flashing with anger. "How dare you leave her alone! Do you have any idea who she is? I entrusted her to you."

     "She's Chelise, daughter of Qurong. I didn't know that you'd entrusted her to me."

     "She's the one my father prepared for me! You've left my bride to sob in the sand!" Justin took several paces toward the camp, then turned back, head now in his hands.

     Thomas wasn't sure what to make of this display.

     Justin lowered his hands. "I told you myself, I would show you my heart. I sent you Michael when you began to doubt, and you're already forgetting. Do I need to show myself to you every day?"

     Justin pointed toward the camp. "You should be kissing her feet, not running away."

     "I don't understand. She's only one woman-"

     "No! She's the one I've chosen to show the Circle my love for them. Through you."

     Thomas sank to his knees, horrified by what he was hearing. "I swear I didn't know. I swear I will love her. Forgive me. Please forgive me. I..."

     "Please, hurry," Justin said. The moonlight showed tears in his eyes. "Her heart is breaking. You have to help her understand. Don't think I am the only one who wants her. My enemy will not rest."     

-from the book White by Ted Dekker

She is disgusting. Her breath smells foul, her skin is diseased and flaking, and her heart is cold as stone. She refuses to receive life and healing when offered to her on a silver platter. Yet she is precisely the person whom Justin (a type of Jesus) wants to lavish his love on. Chelise is lost. Her soul hangs in the balance between an invisible war which wages for her heart. And the task to demonstrate that love is given to a man who knows the Truth.

The same task is given to those who bear the name of Christ Jesus. It seems that most of the time we in the Church are focused on ourselves. After all, we reason, we are His chosen, the elect, the saved, His bride. Those outside are immoral, disgusting, sinful, untouchable. Or if we do care, we have given up hope because of their unresponsiveness or the seemingly impossible task to make them understand or even want the Truth. If only we could see His eyes! We might see righteous anger toward us, and tears of love and sorrow for those we have rejected in our religiosity. We might see Him pacing the floor with hands wringing and deep sobs convulsing His body. We might see His heart, and that it has always been for the...lost.

Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things-and the things that are not-to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God-that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: "Let him who boasts boast in the Lord." (1 Corinthians 1:26-31)

While Jesus was having dinner at Levi's house, many tax collectors and "sinners" were eating with him and his disciples, for there were many who followed him. When the teachers of the law who were Pharisees saw him eating with the "sinners" and tax collectors, they asked his disciples: "Why does he eat with tax collectors and 'sinners'?" On hearing this, Jesus said to them, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners." (Mark 2:15-17)

Alive

In a previous post I wrote about the death of a dream. The light from my eyes, the bounce in my step, my purposeful focus, and my vivacity for life followed my dream to the grave. I had no energy or desire to carry me throughout those days. I could only think that I needed to put one foot in front of the other.

But lately, well, some things have been popping up here and there in a very consistent pattern. It started subconsciously when we collaged our internship experiences. It was realized in a book. It was affirmed through a song in the prayer room. It was declared outright by a teacher in a class. Basically, it is this...

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive and then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." (Howard Thurman)

In talking about the singular unity comprised of the multiple gifts in the Body of Christ, Paul quotes, "he (Christ)...gave gifts to men" (Ephesians 4). Throughout my life, for some strange, unknown reason, I have felt like I need to crush my giftings. For whatever reason-fear of pride, fear of man, or fear itself-I felt like it was wrong to do what I really wanted to do. If I really wanted something, I reasoned, it couldn't possibly be God's will! But that thought is ludicrous! It is exactly what the Enemy wants us to think to keep us from being truly significant in this world. With the death of our hope comes the death of our effectiveness.

It was God who put many of your innermost desires and talents inside you when he created you in the first place, and he has every aspiration of you using them! After all, he himself said that, "...He will give you the desires and secret petitions of your heart" (Psalm 37:4, Amp).

Don't get me wrong, I learned some very important lessons during that season. Surrender. Trust. Perseverance. But in this new season of my life, I feel like God is resurrecting some desires in me that I have buried very, very, very deep. "I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds" (John 12:24).

I still don't know anymore what my life is going to look like, but I'm starting to explore my dreams again. It is much harder for us to get out of his will than we might think, and he isn't shocked or hindered by our weaknesses. What about you? Think about it. Does a dead person or an alive person have more impact on the world? God will still sometimes ask us to surrender things, life won't always be easy, but rest assured-he made you, and he LOVES what he has made!!

Somali People Worldwide

We were all sitting around a long table at the coffee shop...laughing, reminiscing, and enjoying some really good coffee. The door jingled, announcing a customer's arrival. When he came around the corner within sight, I gasped-a Somali! I knew that Minneapolis has the largest Somali population in America (somewhere around 50,000); I saw it for myself when I lived here for a year before internship. But this time around I had a totally different perspective. I know these people.

The next day Jessica and I ventured downtown using the public transit system. I think we spent more time that day on buses and light rails than off of them! And we saw more Somalis than I could keep track of. It was so strange, seeing a woman clad in full Somali Muslim skirt and gimbis (head covering that only leaves the face revealed). We passed a butchery that promised "halal" meat (the Islamic version of kosher). All of this against a backdrop of skyscrapers and electronic transportation and a sky that poured rain all day. I wonder what these people thought when they first immigrated here. It must have been very frightening! 

You don't have to go far to find a cluster of Somali shops where you can get henna done or buy a prayer rug and some incense. They have really banded together to help ease the culture shock. Yet you can see the new coming through too. A younger Somali women, though still wearing a more modern headscarf, was using the latest iPhone. Who is reaching out to these people? The world has come to us. Are we ready?

Reality Check!

 

Do you ever want something so much that it makes you sick? It's that hollow, nauseous feeling in your gut, like you're about to explode or punch a hole in the wall or sit down and just have a really good cry. This is what it's like to dream and to hope, but to not be sure if what you want will ever be yours.

What can you tell a 6-year old girl who has no other dream than to go to Africa? Her fantasies are full of lions, roaring campfires, blazing sunsets, simplicity, perfection. She wants to explore and discover, to step into wardrobes and find herself in distant lands. She wants to be the heroine in a grand adventure. To emerge from peril to epic theme music. I mean, wouldn't life be SO much more inspiring with your own theme music?!?

What do you tell a 22-year old girl who is still living in that fantasy? You take her to Africa.

After living my entire life fantasizing about it, I actually got to go to Africa. And then it hit me...REALITY CHECK! My lions were nowhere to be seen, no campfires except a single candle when the electricity went out, the sky was pale and pasty, the culture complex, and everything was so IMPERFECT!

The tremendous letdown felt to me like death. Everything that I had imagined to be alive and beautiful and adventurous was ugly and difficult. My spark for life soon flickered out, and I spent my days like a robotic corpse just trying to put one foot in front of the other.

I don't want to fill a blog with negativity, but places overseas simply aren't what National Geographic make them out to be. I didn't think that I had any high expectations as I boarded that plane to Africa, but I soon realized who I was really doing missions for...me.

I was in Africa for 16 months. During that time I lived daily with people who stared at me, roosters that woke me before sunrise, the suffocating stench of burning trash-and that's just the beginning! Instead of spending that time serving God, I spent most of it fighting Him. I had to kill 16 years of plans to make MY hopes and dreams come true, never mind God's! All that time before I had simply used the name "missionary" to get me where I wanted to go.

Though I couldn't see it at the time, it ended up being to me really a beautiful letdown. It's that gross idea of "growing up" or "maturing". Peter Pan would shudder in his grave. But in Christ, we really ought to want that. At first it felt like I was just growing hard and cynical and pessimistic and critical of the world. And I guess it could have turned out that way if I would have let it. But then I realized, I can let my difficult experiences turn me into a bitter person or a better person. I can chose to be a victim or victorious. My beautiful letdown caused me to move out of my fantasy world into the real one so that I could truly start living.

Don't get me wrong, I still dream. There are still things I want so much that it hurts. But my outlook on life will never be the same. So go on ahead. Experience your dreams. And if it turns out quite unlike you expected it would, don't let it kill you. Just learn from it, and start living.

Please Note...

So I wasn't planning on starting a blog until graduation in August and I get rid of the newsletter service I use. BUT we started a new class today and needed a blog to share our research with our teammates. So please don't expect much out of this blog until graduation, though I may decide to post something every now and then. Thanks for stopping by anyway :)