Strengths and Weaknesses

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness

2 Corinthians 12:9

Some verses are easy to read, difficult to understand and even harder to live. But (surprise, surprise) there is so much blessing found in them.

I know my strengths. I’m great with kids, I love admin tasks, and while I’m not always the most organized in my own life, I definitely know my way around a checklist.

I also know my weaknesses. Teenagers frankly scare me, every time someone asks me to speak in front of an audience that has a median age about eleven I freak and my contributions to any potluck come premade and prepackaged 95% of the time.

 

97% of the time, life allows me to play to my strengths. I was blessed to be born in the US, where I could go to school and land a job where the fact that I’m pretty good at math means I get paid well, and it’s okay that I couldn’t bench press 50lbs to save my life (well, maybe in that case, adrenaline would take over?)  I volunteer in the kid’s ministry at my church and neatly avoid most requests for public speaking. 

God’s grace is sufficient for me, but I don’t really need His power in my weaknesses, I’ve built my life around hiding, sheltering and avoiding them.

But then you get on a plane. And are dropped off in a country where you can’t avoid them. Where everything you’re asked to do is based on the frailest pieces of your body, highlights your biggest flaws and exposes some of your deepest fears…

 When I was first asked to go to Honduras, I was excited. I love traveling, I love seeing new cultures, I love experiencing life beyond the borders of the US. It sounded like a trip for me – a little bit of manual labor (sure, I can do that), and a VBS (right up my alley!). I signed up, put the money aside and went…

The first part of this post gives the middle away. Honduras was hard. From the first night where I lost my keys to the first day where I learned that “a little manual labor” was going to be more hard work than I had ever done, nothing felt easy. My rusty high school Spanish failed me and  by the second night at our team meeting I was questioning everything.

Why was I here? I wasn’t strong enough to work as hard as everyone else or smart enough to pick up on the language. VBS, normally my strong suit, comprised of me standing back and just handing things to my team members who could actually communicate. I felt… weak.

 

I’m not sure exactly when it changed. Maybe it was when I downloaded the Spanish dictionary that Ted told me about. Or when I had a 5 minute conversation with 10 year old Carolina that made me a dancing partner for the rest of the week. Or when I tied my 1,000 piece of rebar, this time listening to the one English song on my friend Noe’s phone.

But God used my weaknesses. My faltering Spanish, with so much effort wrapped up in every conversation was a chance to show Love. I couldn’t push the wheelbarrow full of cement, but I sang silly songs and carried buckets of water.  Those teenagers that had intimidated me became my little sisters who give some of the best hugs.

And through it all, I knew it wasn’t me. It was not my own strengths, my own careful planning, my own manipulating of situations to make things work for me… it was God. And His love and His grace and His sufficiency.

 

I’m back in the US. Playing to my strengths again, but trying to remember to allow God to use my weaknesses. To look for ways to humbly love and serve others.  To rest in the knowledge of grace.

And praying, praying, praying.

Missing You

I love and I hate the feeling of missing someone.

Because missing someone means you love them, know them, want them around.  God said that it is not good for man to be alone, and you aren’t. You’ve created community with people, you’ve laughed, you’ve cried, you’ve danced, you’ve lived life alongside them.

The blessing of missing is that you know.

But there is still the pain of missing. Of experiencing something and not having them there to share it with. Of wondering and not knowing how they’re doing. Of feeling out of sorts and out of place and just... you know… like something is missing.

I’ve been incredibly blessed to love and know so many people. To travel places and experience little bits of what heaven will be like.  To have my path intersect with the paths of beautiful, amazing and inspiring men, women and children.

And I’m so thankful. So in awe of this life I get to live.

But sometimes? I miss people. And while there is the blessing of it? Sometimes, it just sucks.

 

Sigh.

Post for Remembrance - Part 2

I loved the study of the Tabernacle. Flipping back and forth from the Old to New Testament. Marveling at the care that God put into it all; looking at the names of all the craftsmen, imaging the humble awe that must have filled them as they worked with their physical hands to honor that which is Unseen and Holy. Realizing again and again and again how Awesome and Holy and Loving and Gracious and Merciful and Worthy is the God I serve. How personal our relationship can be. How great the Gift of the Cross. I began to devour the Word, doing what I’ve knowing for years I was supposed to do but for what felt like for the first time I truly wanted to do…

Then, one night, Heather shared this:

http://www.aholyexperience.com/2013/06/an-internet-love-story-part-1-how-to-live-free/

And my heart woke up again. To the idea of a life outside the mundane. Of a life of joy and freedom and calling. Of being who God wants me to be instead of the me I’m settling for.  And I began to dream again...
Satan knows my number. I only have like 3 phone numbers memorized (one of them an out of date and useless old home number), but he must have mine on speed dial. As soon as my heart leaps towards Africa, he insidiously creeps into my mind with all the doubts, all the questions, all the fears… I’m not worthy. I’m not capable. No one actually gets to live the life they dream of, we’re all settling for fluorescent lighting and counting down to heaven. Who exactly do you think you are? What can do you/offer/give anyone?

And this is why. Why I’m struggling to remember all that God has done since Heather read a blog entry about Peace and Shalom and Uganda and a world that needs people to Love and be Joyful.
So I began to dream and to pray and to wrestle with my own doubts and seek wisdom and peace and guidance.

I started reading. Books like “Unchristian” and “Kisses from Katie” and “1,000 Gifts.”  While house-sitting for Hannah I kept putting down “Kisses from Katie” and crying – knowing that I wasn’t living the life I’m supposed to, but unsure of how to go forward. When Hannah came back from her retreat, we spent an evening talking about God and callings and discernment. I love how God places people in our lives “for such a time as this,” so that we can learn and grow together.

The following weekend I went to a mini-retreat to plan Flipside’s Women’s retreat. Me. The “woman” who still feels like a girl and usually feels a bit out of step with any Women’s ministry event (honestly, I haven’t gone to many…) went for a weekend to Palm Springs to help PLAN A RETREAT.  Excited and nervous I went along for the ride.

The first night the 12 ladies who were there worshipped through song and then were invited to share about things going on in our lives that we could be lifting each other up in prayer about. I didn’t share that night, even though my heart and mind were racing. I thought about it again and again, but decided not to. I figured the moment had passed and that I was just supposed to focus on retreat planning. The whole day of Saturday the team was supposed to hammer out details for the weekend, we didn’t have a ton of time, so we were on a pretty tight schedule. After we listened to Heather share about her topics for the teaching times we broke into small groups to discuss small group questions.

Sometimes I forget how big God is and that He can be in the details. That there isn’t a decision or a moment that He isn’t sovereign over and that He wants to be in control of ALL our lives – even what group of 3 women we are separated into during a 20 minute break out session at a retreat planning meeting.

It was Hannah, Malorie and I. Two women whom I love and respect and have travelled an ocean with and would gladly do so again.

“Why aren’t you in Africa?”

It may be my most favorite and most hated question. Because it affirms that this is where I’m meant to be. That other people can see my heart and passion and believe that God can move and work through me in the place my soul longs for. But it also means that they see my disobedience, my fear, my distrust that God is in control and that He works all things out for His own Glory – and that He is GOOD

Malorie asked. Hannah and I caught eyes and laughed. Because we were taken back to only 5 days earlier where I confessed.

My worry about being worthy, of being Enough. My pride in not wanting to ask for support.  My fear that someone else should go, that someone else would be better, smarter, more equipped.

And these 2 women? These beautiful, Godly women whom I love and admire and respect? Took my fears and worries and doubts and shone the light of God on them – revealing their smallness in view of the Greatness of Our Lord. And they shared their own hearts and the callings in their lives and we prayed and smiled and never quite got to figuring out the best small group questions…

Post for Rembrence - Part 1

I know that there will be tough days ahead. That I will doubt that God has called me, that He can use me, that He already HAS used me. So, per the advice of my Dad, Hannah, Brittany, Jaymee... pretty much everyone, I'm going to start trying to document my slow, lurching, beautiful walk along the way God is leading me.

It was fear.  I knew it then, as clearly as I know it now. That deep unsettling gnawing in my stomach when I hung up the phone with David (the leader of CMFI's ministry in Ethiopia). Trying to find a place to live? Move to a country I'd never seen? Trust my finances to anyone other than myself? Trust my FUTURE to anyone but myself?

I couldn't do it. Couldn't surrender. Ignored all of what God had told me and focused on the anxiety, the fear, the swirling thoughts of all the ways things couldn't work out and how I'd be out of control. Me. The girl who'd plan and save and make sure that there wasn't an I written that couldn't be dotted.

So I copped out. Made references to returning to school, random inquiries and applications to college, half-heart requests for assistance. Because this was something I could control. If I went back to school, if I became a teacher, this was a path with a clear shot. No risk, no fear. Make enough to pay off debt, have a fall back plan. Sure, this meant delaying the call even longer - because of course I'd pay off my debt, of course I'd want to establish a career that would be there if Africa didn't work out.

Africa. With its red dirt and dark faces and sunshine and smiles and places that weren't "home" but called to my heart like no where else ever had. Hands that slipped easily into mine connected to arms and bodies and faces that I loved. Loved without knowing where the love came from, but the songs that we'd sing without me even knowing the words and the laughter that came as we neither understood and yet knew without saying.

"why do you want to go back?" because I'm ME there. In Africa where the unfamiliar fits so much better than the familiar. Where the rough edges of me slid along smooth lines and I find myself knowing God and Me and You and Us so much better than I ever did here in the florescent lighting and convenience stores.

The 1st week of December. I decided I wouldn't go back. I'd make my own path, ignore my hearts cry and follow my pragmatic, fearful, anxious brain towards the path of least risk.

I lasted... 2 months?

I started the year as you always do, full of plans to make a better Me. On my own merit I would become healthier, faster, more spiritual, more worthy. I love that God still works within me, even when I'm ridiculously prideful. During a run I was praying and thinking about how the Bible says God is dwelling within us - how we our bodies are to be living sanctuaries. It hit me hard and I even had along conversation with Anna and Maura about it. So when Flipside announced there would be a study on The Tabernacle, I knew I had to do it. I sucked down my apprehension about Beth Moore (I know have no idea why I didn't like her before) and signed up...

Learning Discipline

I'm lacking discipline.

I see it in the corners of my life that I try to hide. The moments of solitude that I let slip away, filling them with useless hours upon hours of TV. The bites of food that I "know I shouldn't eat" but do anyway. The numerous convictions at night that have fled by the dawn. Half filled journals, unfinished books scattered across the floor.

I have owned a Bible for over 1/2 my life... and I don't think I've ever read the book of Amos.

I wanted to be disciplined. a disciple. One who follows in Your path. To live a life of thanksgiving, of prayer, of joy, of trust. To realize that You reveal yourself to those who ask, seek, knock.

Lord, I know that I start and I stop. and I start and I stop. and I start and I stop. That my walk with you has been lurching, stumbling. That there have been days, weeks, months where I haven't moved.

Jesus, thank you. Thank you that you wait. that you never let go, give up or move away. That you still love me with a burning passion, despite my wandering eyes, my impatient heart.

I want to be disciplined. To find my Hope, my Peace, my Rest in You. to cling to Your Promises.

the Joy Dare. Day One.

3 Gifts learned

1. Nothing is as satisfying as the knowledge that you have acted as God would have you

2. That Love Always Wins

3. How to read, to write, to communicate

Hello, again

Well, change is in the air. I would say "again," but isn't "always" more appropriate? The world is always shifting, changing, moving forward at various rates of speed, I just rarely take the time to note its progress, except at those random moments when it jerks forward so quickly you don't have a choice.

The last 12 months were in no way a holding pattern... but the next 12? seem almost insurmountable in regards to the adjustments headed my way. Weddings, graduations, career changes, re-locations... all around people I love are getting ready for the next "big phase."

and, finally, I am too.

because finally, after all these years?

I'm headed back across the ocean. :)

26...

Sometimes I worry that I'm treating life like a stop-gap, instead of an opportunity. That I'm spending to much time planning my tomorrows that I'm missing all my todays. Counting down hours to ends instead of experiencing the middles.

I keep looking forward. Waiting for the day I take a leap, do something grand, live a life that's FULL.

I need Courage. Strength. Boldness. Direction.

And I'm thinking, probably a rather large push.