So now what?

“So now what?” is the refrain that I keep asking myself and that others are asking of me. For over a year I have been on a journey of transition from a “well put together life” to this walk of faith, which, by it’s very nature, implies that I don’t know all the twists and turns that lie ahead. The Bible says, Man may make his plans but God directs his steps. Proverbs 16:9. So many times we think a straight line is the shortest distances between two points, but in our best interest, many times God will take us the long way round because in his unconditional love for us, He knows that we aren’t as ready as we think we are for the endpoint. He is so good and so patient with us to work with us in all our faults and shortcomings, bringing us strength in our weakness, joy in our sadness, and hope when our days seem darkest. I had a plan: 1) go to France to learn French, 2) go to Mozambique to complete Missions School, 3) go to Madagascar to visit,  4) come home to wrap things up, 5) move to Madagascar for two years.  That was my well thought out, carefully considered, best intentioned plan. Well, I completed steps 1-3 but then God brought me home with other purposes in mind. I still believe and know that it is my destiny to serve in Madagascar. That hasn’t and won’t change. But the path by which I will get there is now a little more curved. I felt so clearly in my heart the drawing to Madagascar, a country I had never really considered before. But I haven’t felt that same pull towards any one organization. And so, I am in a holding pattern, like a plane that circles in the sky until it’s safe to land. In the mean time, I am taking the time to rest, read, pray and learn a slower pace. Since I was 16 I have worked and labored, advanced and achieved. For a while during my time at university, I had three jobs. Then, in my early years in Houston, I would moonlight on the weekends with a second job at my apartment complex. Over the years, I have hosted nearly every wedding shower, baby shower, and birthday party; my house was the hang out spot, constantly filled with hungry and thirsty friends. I was ambitious and strived to reach higher and higher goals in my career, spending more and more hours at work. And I loved every minute of it all. But now is my time to rest. And I mean really rest- on the inside. I am putting to bed every question of who I am, what I believe, what is my value and where does that worth come from. I am settling old scores with my past, silencing every voice of guilt or regret. I am building strength in my soul, my character, my calling, and strength in my convictions. It’s in the quiet, when the soul chatters the most, that the challenge arises to meet every thought, question, picture and memory with the truth of what God has said. Not what I have felt, or what I have perceived, nor what I have imagined. But with the immovable, never changing, every steady truth of God. Truth doesn’t change, but I must let it change me. Truth doesn’t move, but I must let it move me. Truth isn’t relative, but I must let it relate to every part of my being, thereby changing the way I see, feel, and think about everything. So the answer to the question “So now what?” is simple: wait and rest until He moves me again.

Observations from the French countryside from an American country girl

As I sit here on a hill in the middle of France, the temperature is “fresh”, meaning briskly cool, and I have a bowl, not a cup, but a BOWL, of fabulous hot tea to keep me warm. The sun has just tucked away behind the distant hill, waving good-night by lighting up the sky with brilliant hues of pink, orange and purple. In the distance I can hear what sounds like chimes. No, that is not a neighbor’s whimsical yard art, it is bells around cows’ necks, ringing softly as they continue to graze the meadows. It is quiet here in the country- deafening quiet. Who knew that silence could be so loud? I don’t think we city dwellers realize just how noisy our lives can become. Beyond the cacophony of cars, sirens, and crowd-hum, there can be a constant roar in our hearts and minds as we race through our days, trying to accomplish as much as possible M-F so we can relax on the weekend. Yet the weekends seem just as demanding as the weekdays, with never-ending errands, pressing house repairs, and desired social connections. Busy-ness can reach soul shattering decibels. These last two days have been a respite from the rushing current of “trying to get settled”: rent the bikes; find the school; find the store;  again, how do you say “where are the bathrooms?” The pace of French country life is a great refresher course on how to slow down and enjoy the simple things. The two hour trip to the Saturday morning village market, where local purveyors sell their goods. No middle-men here; you are talking directly to the guy who made it, grew it, or raised it. And then a snail’s paced, two hour lunch; everyone talking, laughing, ooo-ing and aww-ing over the day’s delicious discoveries. Next, a two and a half hour stroll up the hill to take in the panoramic views of the local hamlets and villages, then back down again by way of the long road. All the while, more talking and more laughing. Cell phones are out of range here and internet requires a modem, as in dial-up. We are forced to go analog and actually talk to each other, face to face. Once we arrived back at the house from our hillside trek, a snack of fresh cherries and peaches with local lemonade awaited us- our reward for enduring the stones in our shoes. After all that, a nap to be followed by a leisurely bread and cheese dinner.  Then, you guessed it, another stroll to watch the sun go down….. And now…..I’ll finish this later.

After night settled over the landscape, we retreated to the kitchen table for a battle of card games late into the night. Before I went to sleep that night, I took a moment to reflect on the day. I wanted to remember this feeling. A feeling of being connected; a sense of community with this new “family.” I believe there is a yearning in all us for connection and intimacy. It seems like there is something in us that longs to know and to be known. And yet, it’s not the mere absence of noise or busy-ness that brings this satisfaction. I believe there are people that live in the countryside that can be just as lonely and desirous of connection. So many times we think it’s the absence of things that brings results: the absence of noise should bring peace, the absence of work should bring rest, the absence of distance should bring connection. So, to me, it isn’t the absence of something that brings peace or rest, but rather it’s the presence of someone. His name is Jesus. It is only when we know Jesus and allow Him to know us that we can finally experience the deep intimacy and connection that we desire. We are created this way. The Bible says in John 15:5 (The Message) “I am the Vine, you are the branches. When you’re joined with me and I with you, the relation intimate and organic, the harvest is sure to be abundant.” It’s being known by Him and knowing Him that fills the deep emptiness inside. Then, from this place of fullness, I can connect with others around me, truly connect. Not needing them to fulfill something for me. Not taking from them to satisfy my missing parts. Not using them to supply my lack. But giving the joy, love, peace, and hope that I have already found in Jesus, I can commune with those around me from a heart of abundance. And I can have this kind of raw interchange with Jesus anywhere- in the city or the country.  It was just extra nice to have the time with Him and others while surrounded in such beauty. I was so blessed this weekend by the change of scenery and pace. It was a good reminder of the importance of slowing down to rest and breathe. It was refreshing to share so many good laughs with friamily (friends that are like family). I feel like I am ready to take on the next round of challenges.

Viva la France!

I said my final (for now final, not forever final) goodbyes this week. I cried a lot… in secret. I don’t know why. I think when I am with people it somehow feels like if I open those floodgates, the gushing tears might not ever stop. So instead I just coldly say an awkward goodbye and try to end it quick. No long hugs, no rambling diatribes, no complete breakdowns. Just a choked, “Ok, well, I’ll see ya in January.” … and then I go around the corner and sob like a baby. If I’m really going to travel the world, I am going to have to learn how to process my goodbyes a little better. 

But all these goodbyes made me start thinking: if we follow Jesus, we will say a lot of goodbyes.  We will say goodbye to sin and death. We will say goodbye to guilt and shame. We will say goodbye to fear and torment. And goodbyes aren’t always to bad things. Jesus said goodbye to His heavenly Father and came to earth to fulfill the plan for redemption of man. While hanging on the cross, He said goodbye to His mother as He went on to defeat the grave. After the resurrection, He said goodbye to His disciples to go and prepare a place for us. Those are all really painful but well worth it goodbyes. It seems we have to be willing to go through the pain of goodbye, letting go of the familiar and comfortable, in order to step forward into new destinies. I believe that in order to reach our true selves as God created us to be, we have to be able to say goodbye to things that are holding us back: old habits, negative emotions, bad memories, etc. We have to say goodbye to things we have believed to be true about ourselves or things that others have said that are true, but are in fact, in direct opposition to what God has said.  Its interesting how along our road, we can begin to see ourselves in ways that, although they may be our reality and what we think is true, are in fact far from truth. For the longest time, I thought I was hopelessly bound to a life of opinions and judgements (both towards myself and others) that would often times leave me rejected by others due to my big mouth. But then God began to lead me through a process of saying goodbye (and still is leading me through it) to the driving fears that were underneath it all. Here is an example of the conversations that go on in my mind (and don’t act like you don’t have conversations with yourself and that I’m crazy): 

• What if I’m wrong? Well, the world won’t end and I can just say “I was wrong.”  
• What if I’m right and then people won’t know that I’m right if I didn’t state my position beforehand? Well, is it more important to be right before people or to be right before God?
• I want people to think well of me and that I’m smart and I know what I’m doing, so I need to say what I know, loud and often. Well, really? That is just sad. How about I just be content with in myself that I am smart, I don’t know what I’m doing, and whatever people will think, they will think?  

So I had to say goodbye to all these little fears inside: fear of rejection, fear of not being accepted, fear of this and fear of that. 

God desires we say goodbye to old patterns and reactions that only drive a wound of the past deeper into our soul. God desires that we say goodbye to fears that haunt us and keep us from reaching our real, full potential. God desires that we say GOODBYE to anything in our hearts, minds, and traditions that would keep us from knowing Him. Over the last several months I have said some really painful, but well worth it, goodbyes: my job, my house, (most of) my stuff, my dogs, my family, my friends, my church, my country, my language, my culture.  But it will be well worth it… It will be well worth it to see a generation, left on the trash heap, rise from the ashes and begin to change their culture. It will be well worth it to see revival in the hearts of entire nations as they turn from greed and wickedness. It will be well worth it to see young girls locked in a life of degradation and dehumanization set free and lifted to a place of dignity and value. And it is all because He is worth it.  He is worth all the goodbyes. He is worth all the pain. He is worth all the risk. His name is Jesus and He never fails to take my goodbyes and turn them into the most glorious hello's.

Ready or not, here I go...

I have only 6 days left at work and only three weeks left in my house, yet somehow, I don’t think I have made the mental shift.  I don’t know if it’s mental procrastination or emotional protectionism, but ready or not, the end of an era and the beginning of a new adventure are here. 

The house is starting to look more and more empty as the boxes pile higher and higher. As I shift through all the stuff I have collected over the years, I can’t help but notice so many items I purchased with an intent to use them.  Yarn and knitting needles because I intended to learn how to make my own sweaters and scarfs.  Watercolor paints and canvas because I felt there was a creative side of me that I intended to express.  Party supplies for the next church soiree that I didn’t get the chance to host, but I intended to.  Now I am preparing for an estate sale to sell off the last remaining items.   

All of this reminds me of what the Bible says about how we intend to do one thing but end up doing another.  Only with God’s help can we really complete the good things we intend to do; only by depending on Him can we tame our passions, purify our motives, and develop our dreams. We can intend to be a better person, but only with His help can we carry it out.

The Bible says, “Listen, I can’t explain my actions. Here’s why: I am not able to do the things I want; and at the same time, I do the things I despise. If I am doing the things I have already decided not to do, I am agreeing with the law regarding what is good.  But now I am no longer the one acting—I’ve lost control—sin has taken up residence in me and is wreaking havoc. I know that in me, that is, in my fallen human nature, there is nothing good. I can will myself to do something good, but that does not help me carry it out. I can determine that I am going to do good, but I don’t do it; instead, I end up living out the evil that I decided not to do. If I end up doing the exact thing I pledged not to do, I am no longer doing it because sin has taken up residence in me.

Here’s an important principle I’ve discovered: regardless of my desire to do the right thing, it is clear that evil is never far away. For deep down I am in happy agreement with God’s law; but the rest of me does not concur. I see a very different principle at work in my bodily members, and it is at war with my mind; I have become a prisoner in this war to the rule of sin in my body. I am absolutely miserable! Is there anyone who can free me from this body where sin and death reign so supremely? I am thankful to God for the freedom that comes through our Lord Jesus, the Anointed One!”  Romans 7:15-24 (The Voice)

I think this is the plan

This is my first journal entry.  I am not a professional writer or journalist or blogger.  As a matter of fact, I have never consistently kept a journal or diary for two primary reasons: 1) I was afraid someone else would read it, thereby learning about my inner most melodramas and secrets; and 2) looking back on the few times that I did write something, later it seemed so overemotional and silly that I would just tear it up and feel embarrassed that I ever wrote those hokey thoughts and feelings down.  But here it goes, an attempt to share the transition process, going from non-writter to writer, from career woman to missionary, from self sufficiency to dependency on others.  There is a lot of change happening on all sides.  

George Bernard Shaw  wrote, “Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.”  This entire shift began with a thought, "Move to Madagascar and help those kids."  I began to think about my life, my value, my purpose.  I began to desire to make my life count for something more than I was living.  I began to think about toddlers, kids ages 2, 3, 4 years old, living on the streets, fighting for food, sleeping on trash, dying alone.  I began to think that I could do something; I could help.  

And so now I am down to my last 9 weeks in my house, the last 12 weeks in the US.  In July, I'll move to France for ~3 months.  I will learn French by trial and error, from some very patient friends, by just immersing myself in the language.  Then I will travel to Madagascar for a ~2 week visit.  I hope to meet some of the folks with whom I will potentially be working and just get a general lay of the land.  Then, if accepted, I hope to start the Iris Harvest School of Ministry in Mozambique, Africa on October 1.  This is a 10 week training course.  After completion of this program, I plan to travel back to the States to wrap up any business here, visit family and friends, and complete needed fund raising.  Finally in January/February 2016, I'll make the move to Madagascar.  That's the plan anyway.  I've always been a planner, but I realize that the best laid plans are still subject to adjustments and changes.