#soblessed

You've read those posts. "Just got a new car! So blessed!" or "Had an awesome time with friends! So blessed!" or "My family is the best family in the world! So blessed!" In fact, you've probably seen a tweet, a post, or something of the sort that I myself have written in the past. Something good happens, so of course, I'm 'blessed.'

So, what happens when my family is fighting? I'm not doing well in school and I'm not having fun with my friends? Are all of my 'blessings' gone?

I struggle with anxiety. Some of you know, most of you don't. A couple of years ago I had a near death experience in Peru. I had an allergic reaction to some medication and literally almost met Jesus. It changed my life forever…

There are hours, days, and even weeks when I struggle with anxiety and with the feeling of dying... again. It is different than anxiety before a test or anxiety over a 'hard situation'. This anxiety is paralyzing, terrifying, and there are moments when nothing can make it better… I feel as if my throat will close up and I'll stop breathing.

On my last trip to Haiti, this past summer, for some reason I experienced the anxiety like never before. I had images of dying. I felt like I was dying. I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything. I tried to focus on breathing but sometimes I focused so hard I stopped. I was laying awake for hours and hours. I couldn't go outside and play with kids because thoughts of dying consumed my mind. Needless to say, I was angry but I was also struggling with what to 'cling to' for comfort.

After my experience in Peru I clung to the idea that every breath is a gift from God. However, as I sat in Haiti feeling as if death was surely around the corner I realized that perhaps my thinking was flawed. Everyone eventually dies. Everyone stops breathing at one point or another… so if I did die now, does that mean God had decided to stop giving me the gift of breaths?

He reminded me of this verse:

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:  a time to be born and a time to die... I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. " (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

Perhaps instead I should cling to the fact that God has some plan that is bigger than me… he knows when I should breathe and when I should stop. God's gift to me is his ultimate, unfathomable plan for me.

Okay, so what does that have to do with blessings?

My breathes are equivalent to the way I have always thought of blessings. When all the good things stop coming does that mean that God has decided to stop blessing us?

I found this description of blessing:

"The Hebrew word בָּרוּךְ (blessed) conveys the idea of being strengthened, of our weakness being compensated for with God’s strength. The field of meaning of its root (ברך) is “to kneel, bless, praise, salute.” (http://adiakrisis.wordpress.com/hebraic-observations-on-the-creation-narrative-genesis-11-23/day-5-the-biblical-meaning-of-blessing/> )

I think most of us have the idea of a 'blessing' wrong. I don't know about you but my new shoes and my car and my awesome friends and everything else that I consider a 'blessing' do not show God's strength through my weakness.

Dying in Peru shows God's strength through my weakness. Overcoming tough relationships shows God's strength through my weakness. Praying for my enemies shows God's strength through my weakness. My helplessness and hopelessness make me kneel before my Maker… and in those things I am truly blessed.

James 1:12 says

"Blessed are those who persevere under trial, because when they have stood the test, they will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him."

In other words, blessed are those who fall on their knees and let God's strength shine through.

So perhaps the next time I'm struggling anxiety and with life I'll tweet about my life being truly 'blessed' as I fall on my knees in complete and utter weakness and He brings Strength.

 

 

 

Orphan Sunday (On Tuesday)

This past Sunday was a special Sunday. It was Orphan Sunday. It is the day when Christians nationally stand for the orphan through awareness , preaching, prayer, outreach, and whatever other means are necessary to spread the word about the plight of the orphan.
 
I got chills as I thought about the thousands of people around the country that were hearing about the plight of children all around the world. I thought about what could happen if everyone who knew about the crisis and heard about it decided to do something. (Did you know that if only 7% of the world's Christians decided to care for one orphan there would be no more orphans??)
 

On Sunday I thought about the children that I have met all around the world that have no one to call their own. I thought about the little bodies that I had hugged, the smiles that I had caused, the laughs that sounded sweet in my ears, and the eyes of the children that were lacking love.

 

So, meet Paloma, Cielo, and Pamela. These three little girls I met about a year and a half ago in an orphanage of more than 800 kids. Think about that. Eight hundred kids. How easy do you think it is for little girls like this to get lost, forgotten, and neglected?

Paloma

I bonded with them the first day that I was there. They latched onto my arms, my legs, my body and wouldn't let me go. I tickled them, laughed with them, and kissed their foreheads. I was the last to get onto the bus to leave because they were holding me back.

The next morning I was walking back up the sidewalk with my team when they ran through everybody and latched onto legs until they were called away again. They had loved my love.





Cielo



I returned to the orphanage a couple of months later, looking for their faces. The twins (Paloma and Cielo) were changed little girls. They were not the joyful little girls that I had met the first time.  In the spring they were friendly, warming, and always laughing. But in the summer they were quiet, timid, and clung to each other. I didn't know what had happened and all I could do was pray that their little hearts would be softened and that God would heal whatever brokenness was causing them pain.



Pamela



During one of our programs with the orphanage I intentionally went over to them to try to get them to laugh and to smile. I danced with groups of girls and tried to pull them in with me but they refused. Eventually I simply sat on the ground and waited… minutes went by and eventually one of the little girls crawled into my lap.  She grabbed my hand and held it for the rest of the time. She began to laugh and talk with her friends. She seemed to be incredulous- why is this white girl holding my hand? But the happiness and the laughter that I saw in her eyes let me know that my hand was all she needed at the moment.

 Something had changed them, something had damaged their little hearts, and it seemed like there was no one there that was sufficiently keeping them safe.

My heart was shattered to the ground as I left them again because I don't know if I will ever see them again. I don't know if they are being protected and cared for. I don't know where they are. I don't know what they are doing. I really have no way of ever knowing again. All I know is that God is holding them in His hands and all I can do is pray. I pray continuously for them. Their picture is on my phone case and every moment that I look at it I remind myself to pray for them. I pray for healing, for a family, for joy, for laughter, for sweet dreams, for happy moments, and for comfort from our Heavenly Father.

 

I tell you their story because there are more than 140 million other children out there that have similar stories. They all too have personalities, laughs, smiles, cries, needs, and wants.

So, what can we do about it?

Advocate. Spread the word about the orphan crisis. Make sure that everyone knows- your neighbor, your family, your hairdresser, your pastor, everyone.

Give. Adoption is not always the answer, nor is everyone called to adopt. But, everyone is called to care for orphans by whatever means necessary. Give money, resources, time, whatever you have to give. There are people that are called to adopt and it won't be easy for them (or cheap) so support them.

Pray. We can not alleviate the orphan crisis on our own. Only our God can do that. Plead on behalf of the fatherless. Pray for specific children, specific needs, and specific solutions. Pray for children that have been adopted and their continuous healing.

Do Not Stop. Continue to care for the orphans of the world until there is not a single child left that is alone.

Have Hope. Children that have been orphaned are not simply God's second thought. He loves them. He is intentional about them. There is HOPE in the plans that he has for them. One day in his kingdom the word 'orphan' will not even exist.

 

In the time that it took you to read this blog post about 6 more children have become orphaned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Home

Lots of people ache emotionally. It is an ache that starts in your soul and spreads to your inner most being and then continues to spread until it feels like it has reached your very bones . Some ache for places: the ache to return to the place that you fell so deeply in love with because you gave so much of your heart away.

My soul aches for Haiti.  It is not because I hate the life or the place that I live in now. In fact, I'm thankful for the life that God has given me. I simply do not feel at Home here in the world that I have grown up in. Months ago my thoughts, prayers, and actions were consumed by the desire to return or the longing to just be there. I had convinced myself that if I could just stand in Haiti I would be where I belonged. Everything would feel right.

So, a couple of weeks ago my feet were covered with Haitian dust. The crazy thing is even as I stood in the country that I love so much I still was not completely satisfied. I was at peace, I was happy, and I felt like I was where I was supposed to be. But there was a small portion of my hear that was still telling me that I don't belong in Haiti either.

Frustrated, I cried out to God: "I yearn for Haiti when I am in the States and when I'm in Haiti I don't feel completely at peace… where am I supposed to be?"

Almost as if he was smiling, God revealed the truth. The truth is why realty reality TV has couples searching for homes and buying a house that they are never completely happy with. It's why people move from house to house searching for a home. Our home doesn't exist on this earth. We were made to live with our heavenly father. Our home is in Heaven. I could travel all around the world searching for where I feel most at home, but I will never ever find that place. Not until I go to be with my Heavenly father will I be Home.

When I travel on trips I never want to come back to Tennessee. But, my favorite part of returning is coming off of the plane, turning the corner in the airport, and running to my parents arms. I love burying my body in their embracement. I feel like all of my problems and doubts melt away. That is what heaven is going to feel like, but better. We will run into the embrace of our Heavenly Father. Everything will be made new.

The reason that I feel so much more at home in Haiti then I do in my house is because on mission trips, we are living out God's calling, we are close to his will, and we are living what we were made to do. We are closer to his heart and so we are moving closer to where we belong, closer to home.

So, Home isn't a place anymore. Home is when and where I obey and listen to the will of God.

Home is where the heart is and my heart is with Jesus.

'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your

mind.'

-Matthew 22:37 

Mission Trip Mornings

According to my Human Anatomy Textbook smell is one of the best triggers of memories. That's why when you smell cookies baking it reminds you of that time that you were making Christmas cookies with grandma. Or when you smell a barn it reminds you of the field trip you went on in fifth grade… random things.  God gave us smell to identify and to remember. The smell that triggers a flood of emotions for me is 'foreign country.' Every country smells differently. When you step off of the plane into a brand new world a flood of scents fill your nostrils. It's that smell and that atmosphere that I often miss.

So, God reminds me. On some brisk early mornings as I walk into school as I step into a street and cross the road I get a whiff of something… and it reminds me of foreign countries and mission trip mornings. I like to call them mission trip mornings because they are distinctive. They are the mornings waking up early to the literal crow of a rooster or the buzz of a street, pulling myself out of bed, and rubbing my eyes as I remember where I am- not at home. My body longs to lay back down and fall back asleep but my mind disagrees, the day is full of potential. Those are the days that could be life changing. New experiences are calling my name. I wake up joyous and ready. Mission trip mornings often involve a quick breakfast and a fast jump onto a bus to head to some new place.

But, why would God remind me of mission trip mornings as I walk into school? Why would God remind me of mornings that I love on mornings that I hate? Why would God remind me of days and weeks that I love on hours that I despise in school? Why would God remind me of a people that I love while I'm stuck with teenagers that I find annoying? And with prayer I realize that He does it not to create a longing, but to remind me that every day should be a 'mission'. So, as I walk into school I should embrace my peers that make my cringe. I should keep my eyes open for God's movement. I should strive to understand the people that I spend seven hours a day five days a week with. I should live expecting every day to be life changing instead of just going through the routine.

On one of these mornings I decided to make it a 'mission trip' morning in school and my world was flipped around. All of a sudden I see the egotistical guy that sits in front of me as a soul hungry to feel accepted.  I see the girl who shares her opinions (that I often don't agree with) too much as a soul who needs to see the truth.  I see the girl that I've known for years and never invested in a relationship with her as a heart striving to be loved and to love. I see the guy who strives to 'fit in' as somebody who needs to feel needed. I have been placed into an atmosphere that needs the truth.

But, that day also scared me. I saw so many lost souls that my heart ached. I realized that there is no shying away from the truth- everyone of my peers who is not a believer will one day stand before Jesus Christ and finally see the truth-Jesus reigns and is the true Savior of the world. And it's this image that scares me to death. I am afraid of a moment when my friend turns to me and says "Why didn't you tell me?"

So, my greatest fear is not that I live an insignificant life. My greatest fear is that I have insignificant relationships, that I have insignificant days, and that when my peers look at me my relationship with Christ will be seen as insignificant.

It is on those mornings that I get a whiff that I remember what I'm living for. God has given me a hard 'mission': The 'field' I don't exactly love, the people I haven't always appreciated,  and I would much rather remain indifferent. But, this is where God is trusting me to be his vessel. Ready or not high school here I come.