Rwanda: 8/3/2012

It's impossible to find the words adequate enough to describe my time in Rwanda. In fact, I've already written 4 different introductions, just to delete them all because they didn't capture what I wanted them to capture and the reality is, they won't. My words will never measure up when it comes to describing the people I met. There aren't words sweet enough.

But to not even try would be a shame, so I have decided for the next few Write-It-Wednesdays that I am going to write about my days spent there. Consider this your all access pass, because most of the posts are going to come straight from my journal- which I did not write in nearly enough.

August 3rd, 2012-

I can't believe that I just finished my first flight of three to Rwanda. I can't believe that I get to go back. My heart is literally bursting with excitement and overwhelmed by the faithfulness of God and how He has provided my every need of my journey to get here. I'm an emotional mess. I cried watching a teenage boy say goodbye to his mom before boarding. I cried when the sun started to rise over the clouds during the flight. And I cried when I read the sweetest letter sent with me by my sweet buddy. Love has already been stamped over this entire trip. I have been filled with it and I can't wait to pour it all out. I am so thankful. I'm sitting in the Washington D.C. airport and I've already been changed by the experience. I've already had to stop and catch my breath over the fact that I am actually getting to do this and I've already had to pause more than once to offer up praise and worship to the King of Kings because I have been overwhelmed by His presence. I am so expectant for the trip and so ready to be used in whatever capacity God asks me to be. Ask me, I am listening.

And that was just on the plane...I can't wait to share with you the days that I was actually in Rwanda and how my heart was spoken to while there. As I read back on this first day, one thing that sticks out to me is that I was so expectant and I had, whether I knew it at the time or not, preconceived expectations of how I thought the experience was going to be. While all my expectations were of a great trip, none of them were met. They were exceeded. Sometimes I forget that God's plans are higher than mine. This trip was a tangible example. I'll say it again....I am so thankful.

Rwanda: I wanna dance with my Father

This Friday, I leave for the most beautiful place I have ever been and when I actually grasp the reality of that I have to stop and catch my breath. I'm going back to Rwanda and it feels like a part of me is finally going home after being away for too long. I am going with an organization called All God's Children International and we will be working predominately with a few different orphanages.

I can't wait. I can't wait. I can't wait. I can't say it enough. My heart is so expectant and excited for what this trip is going to entail. I recently read a blog and it talked about how our society is so great at being "over" and "under" people, but so often we fail at just being alongside one another. On this trip, what I am looking forward to most, is being alongside the people at Rwanda. To love on them. To listen to them. To honor them. To learn from them. To just be with them.

When I had the opportunity to go in 2008, the moment I remember most is when we were teaching English in the high schools. Since the high schoolers were very into music, we decided to use worship songs to teach them English. We played the songs, passed out the lyrics, and went over the vocabulary. After all the questions were answered, we then played the songs again and sang them together. And I've yet to hear anything more beautiful. To hear these beautiful boys and girls singing with their broken English and Rwandan accents, adding drum beats and harmonies, and with all the emotion in the world about the God of every nation was breathtaking. Our differences didn't matter in that moment because the only thing that mattered was the fact that we had the same Father.

My sole hope for this trip is that my team and I can be vessels of the greatest Love there's ever been. That we can speak life into brokenness and be the instruments that Jesus uses to bring people into a deeper revelation of just how much He loves them. That He would be our guide and we would be unafraid following His lead...After all, He orchestrates the most beautiful dances.

I wanna dance with my Father. Bring on the ballroom.

Investments Worth the Risk

I think the most important investment you can make is an investment in others. The return for this investment is one of the most rewarding, but also can be one of the most risky. The commonly accepted definition of an investment risk is "a deviation from the expected outcome.", whether positive or negative. With investment, there is always a risk, but when investing in people, I would argue the risk is even greater because what's at stake is your heart. People don't make investments unless what they are investing in is worth the risk. Others, are worth the risk.

This notion is so close to my heart because who I am today has been shaped by those who have invested in me. My faith has been deepened, my heart has been opened, and my life has been changed by others deciding that I was worth their time. To me, investments have looked like conversations over coffee, words of encouragement, listening ears, letters in the mail, prayers whispered, prayers shouted, car rides, calls/texts answered, when others have shown up, when others have stayed, and simply just time with those who I hold dear.

But even greater than that, I think investing in others is how others are led to the feet of Jesus.

Matthew 5: 14-16 (MSG) says "...Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven."

We are asked to be generous with our lives. When I think of the word generous in relation to my life, my first thought is to accomplish that means to spend time with others and to share life with others, but I think living generously with my life also means taking the time to encourage, to speak life, to pray boldly for, and to serve. To put others needs, wants, and desires before my own. To show up. "Jesus had most of His followers by the time He'd said hello. Being present is all the information most people need" (Bob Goff).

It's the desire of my heart for lifts those in my life to feel invested in. I want to be someone who encourages and others up. I want to be someone who is dependable and consistent in my love. I want to be someone who takes the time to claim the promises of God over others. When I go out to dinner, I want to be done with my food first because I'm too busy listening to talk. I want to pour out my love on others until they find themselves at the feet of the One who loves them most.

David Kinnaman, in his book Unchristian, says that "our task is to be effective agents of spiritual transformation in people's lives, whatever that may cost in time, comfort or image. " Whatever it costs, whatever the risk: Others, are worth it. The best investment you can make is an investment in people.

Jesus, You Have Won Me...

Giving love does not mean that you will always receive love and to be honest with you, I think that sucks. I think one of the greatest gifts that we have been given is to show love and to be shown love and if I were in control, the two would always occur simutaneously. But, thankfully, I'm not in control.

Because if I were, then choosing to love wouldn't be a choice. It would be forced and I strongly believe that love does not force itself. Jesus didn't force me to love Him. He could have. He could have threatened me with Hell until I finally decided to choose Him so that I could avoid Hell, but that's not love. That's fear.

And perfect love casts out fear (1 John 4:18).

Jesus doesn't want me to follow Him or live obediently to Him because I'm afraid of what will happen if I don't. He wants me to do those things because I love Him. He wants to cast out the fear, so that we can experience perfect love. He is the perfect example of this notion that giving love does not mean that you will always receive love. The Bible tells us that "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends (John 15:13)". He died for us exemplfying the greatest love and yet still there are moments, days, months, even years,where we choose not to love Him back with our words or with our actions.

One of the sweetest things I love about Jesus is the fact that He doesn't force Himself. He lets me choose Him. He wants to be a choice. I love that He who is all powerful and mighty draws me to Him not by His strength, but His gentleness. I'm rereading a book right now that blew my mind the first time I read it and is blowing my mind the second time too. As I was reading there was a part that I must have reread a dozen times and haven't stopped thinking about. The author (Wayne Jacobsen) is talking about how God loves us to His arms, rather than scares us to them. He writes: "With incredible patience and love, he coaxes us our of our fears to embrace him. He waits for that moment when suddenly we are safer in him than in any other place we could be. You may be timid at first, but turn toward him and abandon yourself to trust him in the smallest way you can. He understands how afraid you are that you'll be disappointed once again. But he's still there, patiently extending his hand to You. He will try to get closer, until you cower away in fear. Then he will back off so as not to add to your pain, hoping his gentleness will one day win you over"

When I read that, I have to stop to catch my breath. I can't read that without being flooded with emotion. Not only does He love me enough to reach out His hand to me and remain there until I take it, but He also loves me enough to back off so that I'm not forced to take His hand. Seriously, Holy Moly. I have been completely won over by His love.

I think it's easy to think that loving others always looks and sounds a certain way, but I'm realizing more and more that I know nothing. Often times, my love is a selfish kind of love "I think this is what's best for you, so I'm going to love you that way" or " I think you need to hear this so because I love you, I'm going to tell you this." But Jesus is reminding me that sometimes loving one another doesn't always look and sound how we expect it to. Sometimes loving one another is backing off so I don't add to someone else's pain. Sometimes loving one another is holding out your hand, even though no one might ever take it. Look at the story of the prodigal son. If I were that father, there would have been consequences not because I didn't love my son, but because I loved him and wanted him to choose better next time. I think that's the expected reaction, but the father in the story runs to Him while He is still on road and comes home to throw the biggest party of the year. His reaction was a completely unexpected expression of love, but it is undeniably loving. When the way I love only looks and sounds like the way I expect love to look and sound, I think love has been put in a box and in doing so, I've moved from loving selflessly to loving selfishly. I've moved from giving love even if I haven't received it to loving when love is received, which limits the power of love.

And why would I ever want to limit love? God is love.

Redeemed

Whenever I hear the word "redeemed my first thought is always the glass counter at the Chucky Cheese containing all the stickers, bouncy balls, and random odds n' ends you could hope for. After all, that is where you redeem that piece of paper the ticket counting machine printed out for you after swallowing all the tickets you won bumping those crocodiles on the head. It's where you upgrade from one piece of paper to six mood rings and a hello kitty pencil with an eraser, thank you very much. It's the highlight of your visit to the mouse with the moves.

While I haven't been to Chucky Cheese in quite some time,  I do hear the word "redeemed" a lot and I always find myself relating to that piece of paper the ticket counting machine prints out for you. Out of context, that paper doesn't have much value. It's easily torn, destroyed, or trashed. It has no worth, unless there is a redeemer on the other side of that counter ready to exchange it. It symbolizes all of your effort. It's a record of all the times you flipped that coin into the dinosaur's mouth. But that effort doesn't get you the prize, it gets you that piece of paper and no matter what the number on the paper says, it doesn't matter unless there is a redeemer of that paper on the other side of the counter.

My piece of paper might not be evidence of my human effort to make as many baskets as I can in 30 seconds, but my piece of paper is caked with times where I've missed the shot. It's a record of my sin and the times where I've trusted myself more than I've trusted my God. Times where I've boasted in my own strength, not realizing my weakness. Times where I've turned to things to satisfy desires, only to be left unsatisfied. Times where my effort just didn't measure up. Times where I was hoping my effort would get me the prize, forgetting that unless there is a Redeemer in the mix, I can try all I want but there's no redemption. Only a Redeemer can redeem.

But when you hand that piece of paper over the counter into the hands of the Redeemer, suddenly instead of holding a useless piece of paper, you've got that sticky gak that caught your eye the first 30 seconds you walked in and the best part is that when it's in your hands, it's even better than you imagined. It feels so much better than when you were holding onto that paper. And that paper you held on to so tight, is thrown out, forgotten, not given a second glance. All of this made possible by the fact that the ticket redeemer showed up to work and was there on the other side of the counter.

How thankful I am that the Redeemer of my life is always there. That He can take my tattered heart, my failures, my measly efforts and turn them into something better than I even imagined.  That He takes that worthless piece of paper willingly into His own hands. That my worth is not dependent on that paper, but on the fact that my Redeemer showed up. That I am not known by my sin because my Redeemer has thrown out the paper and in it's place given me the prize from the highest shelf. Oh, how thankful I am that my Redeemer lives.

The Valley of Baca

Because I have the dictionary.com app, I know that the definition of a valley is “an elongated depression between uplands, hills, or mountains” or “a low point or interval in any process, representation, or situation” or any of the other 6  definitions that my app gives, which I’ll summarize for you in saying, valleys are low places. I don’t know about you, but if it were up to me, I’d like to avoid any and all elongated depressions, but the reality is valleys are inevitable.

In Psalm 84, the Psalmist talks about a valley. Psalm 84 is about a group of people who are on a journey to Jerusalem to the tabernacle which held the Ark of the Covenant and the “manifest presence of God”. It was a place of worship and joy, but to get there, one had to pass through the Valley of Baca, or the Valley of Weeping. The Psalmist writes: ^“ Blessed (happy, fortunate, to be envied) is the man whose strength is in You, in whose heart are the highways to Zion. Passing through the Valley of Weeping (Baca), they make it a place of springs; the early rain also fills [the pools] with blessings. They go from strength to strength [increasing in victorious power]; each of them appears before God in Zion.”- Psalm 84: 5-7 AMP

Okay, so it doesn’t take much to make me giddy, but those verses are jam packed with way more than much and holy moly, giddiness ensues. As previously mentioned, valleys are low places usually laced with negative connotations. (Sidenote: It’s taking everything in me not to break out in the first verse of the song You Never Let Go.) When I’m walking through a valley, I feel at my weakest. I feel tired, defeated, and in no way do I want to exert the effort that it’s going to take to climb up out of the valley. But lucky for me, the Bible says that at my weakest, God is strong. “but He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:8-10). And Psalm 84 says that “blessed is the man who strength is in You”.

I’m no mathematician, but I think 2 Corinthians 12:8-10 + Psalm 84:5 = I’m blessed.

And if that wasn’t enough, the Psalmist isn’t finished yet, continuing with “Passing through the Valley of Weeping, they make it a place of springs; the early rain also fills the pools with blessing…” If you read that too fast, you might have just missed one of my favorite parts of the whole passage. PASSING THROUGH. ( Sidenote: I am now refraining from singing the bridge of You Never Let Go and simultaneously wanting to break out the chorus of “You make Oceans from the Rain”.) Valleys are for passing through. They may seem forever long and the temptation to give up might constantly be knocking at your door, but God promises that “….the nights of crying your eyes out, give way to days of laughter” (Psalm 30:5) and that there is a light that is coming for the heart that holds on (okay, so the bridge snuck out there a little bit).

But to stop there would be missing a very important part of how we are to pass through the valley, the verse continues with “they make it a place of springs”. Another translation says “make it a well”. How does one make a well? They dig. Digging is hard work and takes effort, but so does walking victoriously through a valley. I once heard someone say “it’s about praising when you dig and digging while you praise.” And well, doesn’t that quote just fit so appropriately right there? Seriously though, I think there’s more to this whole “make it a well” thing. Once you make the well, it’s kind of like a reminder of God’s goodness. Psalm 119:29-32 MSG says “barricade the road that goes nowhere; grace me with your clear revelation. I choose the true road to Somewhere, I post your road signs at every curve and corner. I grasp and cling to whatever you tell me; God, don’t let me down! I’ll run the course you lay out for me if You just show me how.”

When you’re walking through the valley, it sucks, but the wells you make in the valley are going to be the road signs that keep you on the right path. It is my assertion that the times I find myself the most lost in a valley are the times where I have forgotten to dig the wells, so when I look back for a reminder of the path I’m on or when I’m parched and looking for a drink, I find other things to satisfy my thirst, which leads me down the path to nowhere because unless it’s God filling the pools, I’m going to become thirsty again. (Sidenote: You know I just sang the line “Jesus, You’re the Cup that won’t run dry” from “Your presence is heaven to me”). Isaiah 41:17-18 MSG reads “The poor and needy search for water, but there is none. Their tongues are parched with thirst, but I, the Lord, will answer them. I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them. I will make rivers flow on barren heights, and springs within the valleys. I will turn the desert into pools of water and the parched grounds into springs.” If we make the wells, He will fill them. I can dig that. Pun intended.

And still, there’s more. Verse 7 of Psalm 84 says “They go from strength to strength [increasing in victorious power]; each of them appears before God in Zion.” Not only will God continue to fill the wells dug in the valley, breathing hope into the lowest places, but we will go from strength to strength until we get to our destination. The people the Psalm is written about had a final destination in mind. They wanted to get to Zion, and after walking through the valley and digging the wells, God brought them through it and to it. And now, ladies and gentleman, there’s no way I’m going to refrain from singing: “Hallelujah, You have won the victory. Hallelujah, You have won it all for me.” Because seriously, who is like our God?

God Does Not Waste Pain

Well, today is "Write It Wednesday" and I don't feel much like writing, which complicates the whole "write it" part. So, instead of writing something new, I'm going to post something I wrote during my undergrad program called "God Does Not Waste Pain". I hadn't read it, probably since I originally wrote it five years ago, but in the last two weeks, two different relatives brought it up in conversation and it made me curious to read it again. So I did and it's not the most well-written, but it was a reminder that I needed to hear: God Does Not Waste Pain.

In 1 Peter 1:6-9, Peter is talking to a group of Christians who are undergoing a season of suffering. Peter says “ In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer all grief in all kinds of trials. They have come so that your faith- of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire-may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory, and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”

I never truly understood this scripture until five months ago when I received a phone call that changed my life. I was at the beach with a friend when I realized I had missed a call from my mom and she had left a voicemail. Thinking nothing of it, I listened to the voicemail. It wasn’t my mom, but rather a friend of the family. In the voicemail, she was clearly upset so I called my mom’s cell phone back immediately. This time, my mom answered crying and asked me to come home right away. At this point, I still had no idea what was going on so I asked my mom what had happened. She said to just come home, but because I am stubborn and didn’t think she should be allowed to cry on the phone to me and tell me to come home without telling me why, I persistently kept asking what had happened. Eventually she told me that there had been an accident. When I asked her what the accident was she finally told me that my brother had committed suicide. The moments following that are unclear. I just remember instantly breaking down and in a state of unbelief. I could not tell you how I made the drive home from the beach that day or what happened once I got home, but I can tell you that from the instance my mom hung up the phone, I was thrown into the biggest test of faith in my life.

I would be lying if I said that my initial reaction was to trust God or that I immediately understood that there was a reason for all of this to happen. And I would be lying still if I said I understood any of it today. But I do have the reassurance that God does not waste pain. Peter tells us that. He reminds us that suffering exists only for a little while in comparison to an eternal life of glory. He reminds us that suffering is necessary to refine our faith.

In verses 6 and 7 of the highlighted text, Peter says that it is necessary for us to have all kinds of trials for a little while so that our faith can be of greater worth than gold. So when we are struggling, because we all do, whether it is stress, death, depression, arguments, relationships, etc., we can be encouraged because Jesus is redefining our faith so that it will result in praise, glory, and honor when He is revealed! He is not wasting our pain, but rather using it to make our faith genuine. He is allowing our suffering to turn into praise.

The week after my brother’s death with the calling hour and funeral preparations seemed to last forever. However, in the midst of all this, it was impossible not to see God’s greatnesses. God was in every food plate my family received. He was in every person who took the time to visit, to call, to write. He was in every donation, every prayer. He was everywhere. It is easy to believe in God when everything is going right for you. But in a situation where nothing seems to be right, you find out if your faith is genuine or not and you grow in that faith. My heart was absolutely broken, but in the midst of my suffering I had to praise God for this incredible out pour of love my family was receiving. An outpour that could only be explained as demonstrations of God’s love. At my brother’s funeral, they sang Chris Tomlin’s song, “How Great is Our God.” And at first, I was mad at my mom for choosing that song. It was one of my favorites and I thought I would be sad every time I heard it from now on. But instead I find myself praising the God who gives and takes away every time the words come on the radio or the band starts playing it at church. Only a Great God could allow for us to smile in that kind of sadness. Only a Great God could allow us to grow in faith when all we think we can do is break. Only a Great God could refine our faith in our suffering.        

We all have struggled whether it is personally, financially, emotionally, or physically. We have all been there and I am sure we can all agree that in the struggle is not a place we truly enjoy being. But Peter tells us to not lose faith, but rather realize that God is refining our faith in the struggle. He is making us into the person He wants us to be. He is not wasting our pain.

In the book, Why?, by Anne Graham Lotz, she talks about the difference between a turkey and an eagle and how they react to storms. She says “I understand that a turkey and an eagle react differently to the threat of a storm. A turkey reacts by running under the barn, hoping the storm won’t come near. On the other hand, an eagle leaves the security of its nest and spreads its wings to ride the air currents of the approaching storm, knowing they will carry it higher in the sky than it could soar on its own. Based on your reaction to the storms of life, which are you? A turkey or an eagle?” 

And I pose a similar question: Do we want to be turkeys who only see the pain in our suffering or do we want to be the eagles trusting that God is molding us more into the person we are supposed to be in our suffering?”