The World Race - Greater things are still to come

A day in the Park

Sun, 28 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

This is actually a blog I wrote in January, while we were in Nairobi. Hopefully the motto "Better late than never" applies, especially in Africa, where the internet is often sketchy at best.

Two days ago, Pastor Joseph took us to the park across the street. This is where the Kenya flag first flew after the British wazungu (white people) took down theirs.

What I loved most about the park, other than the statue and several acres of fields, were the people sitting by the memorial. We met three men, who introduced themselves. As we talked, they told us that they were from Southern Sudan. "We are the blackest men in Kenya!" they proclaimed. It was also noted that I was probably the whitest person in Kenya. When Marissa walked up to us, the youngest one (who will graduate from high school at the end of this term) noted, "We grow towards the sky; you grow towards the grass!" They were very friendly and had great senses of humor. They told us about their goals for education, the youngest wanting to go to school in Canada. It was about 75 degrees and he was wearing a sweater. Colin told him that it gets very cold in Canada. "Okay," he said, " maybe I will wear two layers, then." I'm not sure how to explain something like bitter, freezing snow to someone who is wearing a sweater while I'm sweating.

And then one of the men we've met here, who is helping us at the church, asked, "Are you here with your families?" The sudden change in their countenance was almost shocking. For the briefest moment, eye contact stopped, their faces seemed to lose all trace of emotion. And while their eyes stayed pained for a few minutes after, one answered simply, "No, we are not here with our families."

We didn't probe more about that, but they talked about the bad violence that had made them leave. I so badly wanted to hug them, to somehow reassure them, to show them love in a world that so often instead shows hate. And I know that God wants to do that even more than I do, that He is yearning to comfort these men with a fierceness that I cannot imagine.

One of the men, Stephen, had the traditional scar markings on his forehead that is the sign in his tribe of manhood. The two others had left at too young of an age to get the ceremonial markings, but they were glad.. "We don't like that tradition," they told us. " It isn't fair. We go all over the world now, the Sudanese, and people always know where we come from because of that." But there is something in these ceremonies- in the passage from boyhood to manhood- that I appreciate. I wonder if our Western culture hasn't made it hard for men. We have no clear division, something to look back to and say, "That is when I became a man." And so I wonder if we don't have males in their late teens and twenties, perhaps even thirties, who are walking around in a sort of limbo- no longer a boy, not quite yet feeling a man. On our team, we've even talked about how "girls" seems rather belittling, but "women" seems like something we aren't yet.

I hope that we see those men in the park again, that we are able to talk to them more. I hope that they can come to know about a heavenly Father who loves them, even when they cannot be with their earthly fathers.

Please keep Sudanese refugees in your prayers.

Pepperoni and a life-long lesson

Sun, 28 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Once there was a father, who took his daughter to a pizza parlor. While the father and his daughter were waiting for the pizza, the waiter began to talk to them. He told them about how he had a tooth problem and was working extra hours to save up money for dental work, as he did not have insurance to help alleviate the high cost.

After the man and the girl had gotten the pizza, they walked outside to the car. Upon arriving, the man noted that he had forgotten something inside, telling his daughter, "I'll be right back. Wait here." The girl, nosy and deeply curious, of course disobeyed and quietly followed back, watching through a side window. She watched as her father pulled bills out of his wallet and gave them to the waiter, as he shook his hand and wished him well and success. She hurried back to the car before her father returned. The pizza burned hot on her lap as they went home, and the wind blew her hair in all directions, but her heart felt light.

She never forgot her father's love in that act, or his generosity. She never forgot that example that he set, one she hopes that she walks in, and will walk in for the rest of her life. It was a lesson in loving people, in helping others, in giving freely of what we have because it has been given to us by a loving and gracious God.

Fathers, I hope you know that you are setting an example, even when you don't think your children are watching. Every time you love your wife, or show integrity, your children see this. In Genesis 18, God says that Abraham will become a great nation, because Abraham has been chosen so that "he will direct his children and his household after him and keep the way of the Lord..."

So, Dad? Thanks for being such a good example to me that day in the pizza parlor, and in the many days that have come since.

I love you.

I'm Glad God Isn't Who I Thought He Was.

Sun, 28 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I was recently reading part of Searching for God Knows What, by Donald Miller. In it, he talks about how his idea of God changed over time, especially when he was in high school. At first, he kind of had an idea of this God that rather appeased him: a God that was there, but was just sort of a cuddly bear and had these rules that you followed. And then, later, he found a God that was a Being, a God that wanted a relationship with him. In face, this God was desperate for a relationship with him; so much so, that He sent His only son to repair the cleft that sin had caused between us and Him.

We're well past the half-way point on this trip. Mickey Rooney once said that life is like a roll of toilet paper: the closer you get to the end, the faster it goes. My dad echoed a similar sentiment my senior year of high school. Watch out, he warned, it goes by fast. And it did. University when by quickly, too. I look at those four years- of laughter, fun, studying, stress, tearful nights, great friendships and late-night Jimmy John's runs- and I wonder where it all went, and how it all went so quickly. I'm afraid that this will happen to this trip, that at some point in July I will wonder, How is it over? And I don't want to regret wasting any time.

But I digress. As I was reading Mr. Miller's book, I got to thinking about how my idea of God has changed over the course of this trip. It's kind of like when you're a kid, and you take a snow cone (read: some snow you grab from the front yard and put in a bowl) to your parents. And as your dad is about to take a bite, he asks where you found the lemon flavoring to add to it. As the spoon moves towards his mouth, you naively tell him that there wasn't any, it was already yellow when you got it from outside. His idea of what he is eating, and what he is actually eating, are very different.

In the same way, my idea of who God was, and who God actually is, were very different.

I thought God was this judgmental God, ready to pour down hellfire and brimstone at any moment, ready to punish me for any moment of weakness or sin, ready to turn His back on me when I couldn't uphold righteousness or when I just plain messed up. After all, He's perfect. So how could He really love me, some who misspells words and isn't that patient and takes too long of naps on Saturday afternoons?

I'm sad for myself now, because I lived in that mindset for so long. I wasted all that time. Yes, I could say that God is loving and loved us, but deep down, I didn't completely believe it. I feared him, but not in a holy reverence or healthy fear of a Being that is our Creator. Rather, I feared God in the "You'll smite me if I don't" sort of way. I took part in many church activities, and while mostly it was because I enjoyed them and helping out, a portion of my reasoning also included me fearing that Christ's blood wasn't completely enough. Maybe it worked back when I first believed, but I could use lots of good things to help make up for my sin. And this is totally not Biblical. Christ's blood IS enough.

And my view of God as this warmonger who was pleased to crush His creation? That's not God! Thankfully, my feelings and how I feel about God have no actual impact or effect on who God actually is. And as I've kind of stumbled and fumbled my way through this whole "being a missionary" thing, learning what it is to love others and live in community, I've seen God in new ways. I'm learning who I am in Christ, and who God is, what His word says about His being and His character. And He's GOOD.

He is slow to anger and abounding in love, He listens to us, He is concerned about us, He loves us with an everlasting love, He is the Lord our God, He walks among us, He fights for us, He is our strength and our song, He heals us, He answers us. He has chosen us, His Spirit lives in us if we believe in Him (and where His Spirit is, there is freedom), He is filled with mercy and compassion and He loves us. In fact, He is love.

A man named Charles sat on my lap for an hour on our way to see the smallest church in the world

Thu, 25 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

This month, we were in Paidha, Uganda. The Internet is pretty slow there, so that explains why I haven't been able to write this month. The Internet and I just aren't really good friends anymore! So, as an update, here are some bulleted points from things we saw and learned this month. And yes, Charles really did sit in my lap for an hour. Yes, it was pretty awkward. The church was neat to see, though I think the idea of a church that can't seat more than 3 people is a bit against the goal of a church. However, the setting (seemingly endless fields and forest) was absolutely spectacular and breath-taking.

- The age girls begin to marry in Paidha is about 13. These girls are caring for their younger brothers and sisters from such a small age, however, that this age doesn't seem to cut into "childhood" in many ways. It is so sad to think about, that at 13 I was playing volleyball and worried about what flavor Slushie to choose after a softball game. These young girls are keeping house and cooking for their husbands. This also means that they aren't attending school, a huge problem in that area. Polygamy is also permissible, and in an area where 70% of the people have HIV, second and third wives don't stop its propogation.

- Living without electricity and running water isn't as hard as I thought it would be. Of course, we weren't allowed to fetch water (nor, honestly, could I have. These women are STRONG.), which means that life for us was much easier physically than it is for them. We are in Jinja right now, and I kind of miss our squatty potty, as we now have regular toilets. Weird!

- A long time ago, in Montenegro, our ex-squad leader, Aaron, told me that he didn't think I had truly reached the "abandonment" phase AIM talks about. I was a bit mad about that: of course I had abandoned stuff! And then, I showed up in Paidha. And the knowledge that I never had really abandoned anything squeezed me more tightly than any of Anakudi's hugs. Life without an iPod, a camera, the Internet and most of the amenities I hadn't even thought of giving up gave me much pause for thought. And luckily, because I had no other distractions, I had time to think about them! Colin, my teammate, made a good point, though: "God made songs and silence. Satan made noise." I'm okay with songs, but silence is something I've been trying to work on.

- One of our favorite little girls at the church is named Gloria. She is a girl who dances with her whole body, the joy in her heart just overflowing in a body blessed with rhythm. We would try to follow her (and the other children's) dance moves during praise and worship time, but my stilted movements didn't compare to her gracefulness. So we were all deeply saddened to find out that she is included in the 70% of the village who are HIV-positive. I looked at her, sleeping on a mat because she was sick that day, and I was so sad that her life is beginning with an automatic cap to it.

But maybe that's the thing. She will know that she has a limited time to live. Maybe, for her, it won't turn to bitterness or anger, but instead, each sunrise will be a new miracle, each day a precious gift, each person she meets a new person on whom to pour out her love. It seemed so unfair, and it is, I'm not denying that, but this is something I've learned and said before: we are all dying. Not one of us is guaranteed to live another 5, 10, or 20 years. We just don't realize it. Gloria, and her HIV-positive mother, do.

- Lent has begun! I have decided to take up smoking. Just kidding! I will be worshipping God for 30 minutes to start out each day. I've realized it's something I don't do enough, and I don't think we can ever a) give God enough praise and glory or b) remind ourselves of God's goodness and love and mercy. I often have trouble understanding, or believing, just how deeply and intimately He loves us. So, I'll be doing that up until Easter...and after. What are you doing for Lent?

We leave for Tanzania soon!! Hopefully the Internet will work for us there, but I'll be adding more posts as I can. Happy Valentine's day 11 days late!

Love, actually.

Thu, 25 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Well, we all know that Valentine's Day was eleven days ago now. The day to tell people we love them via chocolates and cards written by other people! (Just kidding, I'm not really that cynical. I do the love the day after, though- 50% off chocolate!). We spent our Valentine's Day at church; I preached my second sermon! We also welcomed Dan to our town, and he stayed with us until our arrival here in Jinja.

Valentine's Day had me thinking, though. Our culture inundates us with images of what "love" is. It's that butterflies-in-your-stomach feeling. It's that dewy-eyed look. It's running between backed-up cars in New York City to catch the taxi that the person you love is in. It's sending a dozen yellow roses to someone every day, just because it's their favorite. It's physical attraction. It's never saying "I'm sorry". It's as fair as war is. It's all smiles. Honestly? I don't want Hollywood-style love. Because it's not love.

So where can we find out what love is? From God, because 1 John tells us that God IS love. Love is mentioned a lot in the Bible. Jacob worked fourteen years to be able to marry Rachel, and we're told that "they seemed like only a few days to him, because of his love for her," (Gen. 29:20). Jesus told us that "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends."

And perhaps the best-known commentary on love is from I Corinthians...the famous "love chapter". It's what is read at weddings all the time. But do we really pay attention?

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

Like I said before, God is love. So, it follows then, that God is patient, God is kind. God does not envy, God does not boast, God is not proud. God is not rude, God is not self-seeking, God is not easily angered, God keeps no record of wrongs. God does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. God always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

So, if that's what love is, and God is those things, and Jesus is God, and we're supposed to be like Him (check out Ephesians 4:23-24), then I should be able to insert my name in there, too.

"Robin is patient, Robin is kind. Robin does not envy, Robin does not boast, Robin is not proud." Ouch!! I'll stop there, because I'm already riding the struggle bus after those first few. This caused me do a heart-check, definitely.

Can you put your name into that verse? How are you doing? I hope you're doing better than I am. But if not?

His mercies are new every morning!

Turkey Top Ten!

Mon, 18 Jan 2010 00:00:00 GMT

1. Baby-sitting the kids

Who knew there were so many spiritual parallels between our watching (or raising) children and our relationship with God? The kids were a blast, we adored their parents, and it was fun to giggle and be silly and remember their joy at the simple things in life, like bubbles, or passing motorcycles.

2. The Hamam

Otherwise called a Turkish Bath, this was a fun experience to share with April, Aubrey and Brandy. Washing off some of the World Race dirt that had been accumulating was really nice, too!

3. Christmas video

Being silly with the team was so much fun, as was figuring out what we should put for each of the twelve days of Christmas! If you have seen it yet, it's on my blog here. Many, many thanks go to Matt for compiling it all and putting it all together in fantastic fashion.

4. Christmas

Oh, of course this is on here! Yes, I love it because it's the day we celebrate the birth of Jesus. But it was also a day to relax and spend with my team and April and Logan. At one point, I looked at Matt, hard at work on his computer, Aubrey laughing with April on one couch, Marissa laying down on the other, the smell of food wafting in from the kitchen, and Colin and Jodi in the other rooms, Skyping with their families, and I had already talked to mine. An overwhelming sense of love and joy enveloped me. (And starting a day out with Secret Santa and cinnamon rolls (thanks, April!) never makes a day bad!)

You may wonder at the blue tongue picture. Here is all I will say: if you ever have a cough that won't go away and begin coughing during Christmas dinner, and Matt Patch happens to have a cough drop in his pocket, don't take it! It's not actually a cough drop, but a prank candy, which will turn your mouth blue. Even worse, everyone will be laughing, but you won't know why, so you will laugh along with them. You'll even comment on how you want to buy more of these cough drops, because they taste like blueberry candy, not like medicine.

5. Pedicure

The boys (Colin and Matt) got the girls pedicures for our stocking stuffers. Great stocking stuffer! April went with us and we just had a fun time talking and laughing while 22 years of dead skin got sloughed off of my feet- yuck! But I highly encourage you to go get a pedicure; who knew they were so fantastic? Apparently, the razor thing they use in Turkey to get the skin off of your feet is illegal in Texas. Oh, well.

6. Hearing part of Matt Chandler's "Jesus wants the rose!" sermon

Logan had us listen to a bit of this one. A pastor had had people in the congregation pass around a rose and when he asked for it back, it was no longer beautiful, but wilted and falling apart. Likening this to sexual misconduct, he asked, "Who would want this rose?" implying that no one would want it. Matt Chandler, then, says that it took all he had not to stand up and yell, "Jesus wants to the rose!" He died for that rose, and he loves it dearly. He died for you and he loves you dearly. Your sin just proves you need Jesus- just like everyone else.

7. Doners

Just a fun food from Turkey! It's pronounced "do-nair", not "do-nur", as Logan had to tell us over and over and over and over again.

8. Riding a camel

After seeing a waterfall, we walked out of the park and immediately saw five camels. YES. Camels are really cute for some reason, and when we found out it was really cheap to ride one, we couldn't resist. I won't lie, I was terrified to be so high up (my fear of heights is odd, considering I'm quite tall) and mad at myself for somewhat perpetuating animal cruelty (making a camel lie down all day until it's ridden? And who knows where they take them at night...), but it was quite fun once I quit screaming.

9. Finding a pair of jeans

My pair of jeans died in rather spectacular fashion while in Montenegro, and I'd been trying to get by with my capris and gauchos since. A Turkish wintry day will get you to buy a pair of jeans, though. Plus, it meant I didn't have to wear outfits like this anymore to try to stay warm! And even though my teammates got great joy out of telling me what, exactly, was wrong with this outfit, I still think it's kind of okay.

10. IGVP

One thing this trip has taught me is that people are pretty much the same everywhere. Sure, skin colors, languages, and cultures change, but we all want to be loved, we all giggle when someone we like talks to us, we all get frustrated at times and we all laugh. The goal of this organization is to facilitate reconciliation through photographs that show our common humanity. While pictures of war and starvation grasp at our heartstrings, it is the pictures of people waiting at bus stops, and grandpas laughing at their granddaughters that remind us we are all human, and we all share this earth, and maybe we could love each other a little bit more. (Oh, and also cool? This is pretty much Marissa's Kingdom Dream, telling stories through words and photos and getting those stories out there for people. Thanks, God, for throwing that into her lap!)

And what's on my NOT Top Ten List?

Getting pooped on by a bird! I knew as soon as it hit my head that it wasn't an errant raindrop...

Gurush sarus, Turkey!

Tue, 29 Dec 2009 00:00:00 GMT

I've kind of always had an angry streak in me. Even as a child, I was pretty quick to get angry. Sometimes now, for little things (like today, when I couldn't get my flip flop on!), my first response is to get angry. It's not right. I realize that this is selfish anger- a response to an expectation or want that wasn't met how I wanted it to be met. But there is also righteous anger. Jodi told me a while ago that she thought God would turn my anger and use it for righteous anger.

I think that's been happening. But maybe it's about to really start.

We leave tonight for Istanbul, where tomorrow we'll board a flight for Nairobi, Kenya. As the teams then spread out across the country, we'll stay in Nairobi, in the Kibera slum. There, there are no toilets like we know them, just "flying toilets" (read: bags used for human waste that are then tossed into the street or streams). There are 50,000 AIDS orphans. Did you read that? Because 50,000 kids without parents means 100,000 parents dead to AIDS....in one part of one city.

AIDS is decimating people, families, countries, continents.

Every day, 30,000 children die. Most of these kids aren't even 5 years old when they succumb to often treatable illnesses. I eat every 3 hours because I don't like even the remote chance of feeling hungry, while these kids' bellies bloat from lack of substance in their tummies. These kids, who laugh and cry and love their moms and enjoy having their hair stroked and have favorite songs, these kids are dying. And we're not doing anything.

You might disagree. And that's fine.

But there has to be more we can do. I don't know what it is. I'm not sure. But I bet there are a lot of people with ideas out there, who just haven't spoken up yet. Only Satan wins in that silence.

Maybe, in churches, we could make it less about the money and more about the people. Did you know that there are people in the United States (supposed Christians!) working with governments in Africa to have gays killed? There are Christians who actually support the killing of gays. What? There are churches that will not condemn premarital sex, or will just avoid the topic altogether. Where are the prophets in our churches to stand up and say that this is not right?

As Shane Claiborne says in Irresistible Revolution, Jesus is coming back for a bride, not a harem. Maybe we should all band together, as a unified body, stop worrying about little divisive things, and focus on the poverty that is in our midst. Maybe we should love more people, live out our faith more fully, and worry less about convicting other people of their sins. Let the Holy Spirit do His work, and let's start doing ours.

A Chrysalis Christmas!

Fri, 25 Dec 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Enjoy this time with your family & friends!

Relax, take it easy, give love and have a laugh with this little video Matt Patch put together. Yep, that's our team singing, not a professional choir....

Turkish delights and everything nice

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 00:00:00 GMT

We are now in Turkey. Once again, the cold and rain has followed us. (Hey, remember when we were told it would be really hot everywhere we went? This was a LIE!) But other than that? I love it here.

Aubrey and I have mainly been watching a couple's two kids during the days. They are adorable, but a little bit of a handful at times. My favorite part is lunchtime, when the kids cry a lot. I don't understand this, because to me, food is a great part of the day. I really enjoy eating. So, I'm generally a little bit confused by all the tears. Also, the crying at naptime flabberghast me: what, exactly, is bad about a nap? Naps are the best! (Kids just really don't appreciate all they have...naps and snacks and coloring time? Awesome!) And yet, it's been a blast coloring, playing with Play-Doh, and finding joy in the little things, like looking out the window at everything going on in the city. The little boy, who is 2, especially loves trees and bikes. Going outside with him is such fun, because the air is filled with his joyous cries, "Bike! Bike! Twee! Twee!" Wow, it's cute.

But watching them has made me think: faith like a child? These kids cry when they don't get their way. They cry when they're confused or hurt or angry. They act out of their anger, pushing away their food or shoving away a toy. And I know I do this on a spiritual level. Just as E, the little boy, cries when he can't get the meat for lunch yet (because it's cooling off and will burn him if I give it to him), I don't always understand why God won't give me the things I'm desiring. Maybe I'm not ready? That thought generally doesn't cross my mind until I've had my version of a spiritual pout. We know what is best for the toddlers: we stop them from making decisions that will ultimately hurt them or hinder them in some way. It's not what they want, but our thinking is higher than theirs.

And God's is higher than mine, and ours.

However, even though they may cry every now and then, they also eat what we put in front of them. They fall asleep quickly, because they are warm and feel safe. They trust us. They do what they are told. I'm working on applying this to my life, because it's easy to say but often hard to live out. If I feel I'm being told to go pray for this person, do I always do that? Or does pride or the fear of looking foolish stop me? If I am told to give my lunch to someone on the street, do I? Or does the noise of my own rumbling belly stop me from giving freely as I freely received? [I'm just glad God doesn't put us in time out...]

Other than that, we've been doing lots of thought walks (wink, wink) through the city and spending time with one of the couples here. They are probably one of the coolest couples I've met. They are both just passionate and alive and so stinking sweet. I feel like I have been so blessed just to meet so many people on this trip so far who have shown me what I can be and what I would like to be when I return home. I want to bless others as much as I have been blessed. I want to be hospitable and invite others over and play games long into the night, enjoying fellowship and community.

That's it for now! You might have noticed that I haven't written in a while: we are doing a two-week fast of "screens". So, if it has a screen, we're not using it! Computers, iPods, everything. It's encouraging team bonding, encouraging discussions and games and time together, and discouraging homesickness during this season. It's been good, and I must say, I've read a bit more not having Facebook to keep me company!

Thanks again for your thoughts and support! Enjoy the snow if you have any!

A little red reindeer and a boy named Jason

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Sometimes I try to write some poetry (think more free form, not so much Emily Dickinson...). I'll be the first to admit, it's not so great. But a boy that I went to elementary school with in Kentucky, Jason, has been on my mind for the last month or so quite a bit. He actually did give me a stuffed reindeer and I do still have it. It sits on my dresser at home. I hope you'll take a moment to pray for him and his family, and all other families who include someone with special needs (as well as the roughly 30,000 children who will die today from starvation and water-borne illnesses).

Here in Turkey, disabilities aren't really mentioned. There's no Turkish Sign Language. Why not? Because then one would have to admit that there are deaf people in Turkey. And I've seen people in wheelchairs struggle to get around, because store entrances and sidewalks aren't made with special needs in mind.

For Jason

At Christmastime each year,

I gently hold a stuffed reindeer,

a red stocking

sewn between its hooves.

I remember the day you gave it to me--

it was cold outside and I was hanging up my coat in the hallway,

where you stopped me.

The stocking was filled with bubble gum

and you said, "Merry Christmas, Robin!"

in that raspy voice of yours.

We moved away soon after, but I think of you often.

At 6 years old, you had one lung less

than the other first-graders,

and asthma marred any attempt at easy breathing.

Even though it led to fits of coughing,

you would laugh often.

You always said, "Hello."

Though you did not have much, you gave freely

in your love.

So, if somehow you are reading this,

your raspy voice now that of a man,

your wheelchair leaving tracks in the snow as you travel,

I would just like to say:

Merry Christmas, Jason.

Israel in pictures!!

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Here are a few pictures from our time in Israel! I will add more, but our hour for blogging updates is almost over! Sorry about the lack of pictures, but patience is a virtue!

This camel gave "kisses" and I was a lucky recipient! This camel was on the Mount of Olives, from where

we also saw the Garden of Gethsemane. Very cool.

Sam and Don went hiking and I loved how small they looked in the desert!

Just floating in the Dead Sea!

Not a bad idea...

Wild camels, roaming in the desert!

Life always finds a way. Even in one of the harshest environments on Earth.

Awesome sunset in northern Israel.

Three cups of tea

Thu, 26 Nov 2009 00:00:00 GMT

One of the things Team Chrysalis has been doing these past few weeks is teaching English in a recognized Bedouin village. Audrey and I mostly went and had conversations with some of the older girls. While I was, at first, pretty disappointed to not be teaching the little ones, talking with the older girls turned into one of the best things I've done on this trip.

Her name is Hanan (not her real name). She is fifteen years old. She is beautiful, though I imagine she is all the more lovely when her hair is not covered, like it always was when we were visiting. She loves to draw and likes school. She says "Ehmm" in a soft voice as she fishes for the right word in English to express herself, then giggles at the amount of time it takes to find a word that doesn't wriggle out of her mind's grasp. She is so sweet and so mature. She gave Audrey and me rings, then, along with her mother, invited us over to dinner last night.

I like to call it our first Thanksgiving meal of the year, just Bedouin-style. At first, Hanan's mom would have no part of us helping her in the kitchen (maybe she sensed that I'm a horrible cook?). Eventually, she conceded and let us wash and dry some dishes. But in the mean time, we made small talk with Hanan as she put up the still-warm pitas and cut vegetables. Her little brother, Achmad, was around, so we would say "Tai!" to get him to come over and then say "Hot boza", which means 'Give me a kiss'. He's an adorable little boy, who also dances very well!

The rest of the group came and we ate food and cobbled together our own little language, covering it all with laughter, the bond of humans. Over the three cups of tea that we were served, I fell in love all over again with Hanan and her family, as well as my team.

On their wall was a list of names of Alllah. They could only translate one, which was "He who provides."

I hope that, some day soon, they look at that list and know that it's truly about the one true God, who is loving and merciful and loves us with an unquenchable, unfathomable love. I hope that their hospitality is used to welcome in new believers, to fill them up with food and the Spirit. I hope that their house is a light to their village and their village, a light to the nation.

I am thankful that, in coming here to bless others, I myself have been blessed back tenfold. I am thankful for travelling, and seeing that people are really the same everywhere. Colors, languages and customs change, but the basics don't. I am thankful for my loving family. I am thankful for my new (and old) World Race family. I am thankful that my worth comes from God. I am thankful for a God who reveals Himself to us, who loves us intimately, who blessed and delights in us.

I am thankful for my supporters and my church. I am thankful for my friends back home. I am thankful for that uplifting e-mail or word, which changes a bad day into a good one.

May our God who provides provide for you bountifully today. May friends and family be near to your heart, even if they are not physically near.

What are you thankful for?

Happy Thanksgiving!!

And now for the lame joke of the day:

Why did the Pilgrim's pants fall down?

(Because he was wearing his belt on his head!)

Life in the Dead Sea

Thu, 26 Nov 2009 00:00:00 GMT

It was our free day. As the three teams in our town, we were headed to the Dead Sea. I was so excited!

I was expecting the water to be salty.

I was expecting to float.

I was expecting good talks and good fun.

I was expecting the Dead Sea to be a good day, but for the sea itself to be ugly and black.

So, I was surprised, when the water was so much more salty than I could have possibly imagined. It smelled; it felt funny on our skin; it burned any cuts and scrapes we had.

We didn't just float, like you might in a pool. This water offered resistance, and it was hard to not slide over onto my side at times, or to stand up straight (which was possible without touching the ground in the water), because it was such a struggle to get my body below the water.

I did have good fun and great conversations (thanks, Shannon!).

But what I wasn't expecting?

That the Dead Sea would be absolutely beautiful. I expected sludgy water, deep black in color, practically screaming out its own name, "Death!"

Instead, the water was clear, a beautiful turquoise color in the sunlight. Far off, we could see white chunks of floating salt, and farther still, the mountains of Jordan. On our side, hills arose behind us, the Negev Desert in all its glory.

The mountains of Jordan in the distance!

And yet, the Dead Sea's beauty is deceiving. Yes, it's beautiful. But it is the farthest thing from life. Drinking just 1/8 of a cup of this water will kill you, your kidneys shutting down because they can't process it all. Fish who swim too near to the sea from the Jordan River die immediately, their fins ceasing to move with purpose as salt invades their bodies. There are no plants.

I imagine nomads were deceived at first, as well. After a long time of wandering in the desert, they come across this large body of water. Hallelujah! they might think. We've found a wonderful place. And then they would come near, and the smell would overpower them, and they would see the salt crystals on the beach. No, this water is no good from drinking.

And so it is with life. Sometimes, the most beautiful things are only that: superficially beautiful. Deep down, there is no life within them. There is nothing to sustain others. There is nothing lasting, nothing that nourishes or feeds. Even the sea itself only takes: the Jordan River is constantly pouring into it, while the Dead Sea gives away none of itself or what it receives.

Looks deceive. Constantly taking and never giving doesn't lead to more life, it leads to death.

As I sat (rather literally) in the sea, I pondered those things. I have been poured into by so many people on the World Race so far. I think of our first squad leaders, Aaron and Caroline, and their ability to speak life and truth over us, and our new leaders, Brandy and Dan, who also encourage and build up. I think of my old team leader, Adam, and my new team leader, Jodi. Of Team 7 Camels and Team Chrysalis. Of folks and friends back home from churches and schools and my community. I don't want to only harbor these lessons: I want to share what I have learned, to pour into others and to give of the abundant life I have found in Jesus.

So the day wasn't completely sunny, but the clouds allowed some beautiful sun rays to peek through.

Twenty seconds

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 00:00:00 GMT

We are in Israel now. I will write more about our time here, and our last city, but for now, I just want to get a few things out.

Israeli law forbids cruise control in cars. (If you saw how they drive sometimes, you'd understand why!)

Israeli law also mandates that all new homes be built with a bomb shelter. As tensions between Israel and Iran don't diminish, some of us are starting to sense what it must be like to live here. Every day, as you try to live your normal life, you have the fear that the sirens will go off. From the time that the siren goes off to the time that the bomb hits totals twenty seconds.

We met a couple here who were telling us about their time in the north of Israel a few years ago, when bombs hitting their town wasn't something rare. Children couldn't go outside and play, because twenty seconds doesn't afford them enough time to get back inside to the safety of the bomb shelter. Children were being diagnosed with hypertension, because they were so stressed about the situation. Families were fighting, because most Israeli houses aren't that big to begin with, and having several children plus parents stuck inside together gets hard pretty quickly.

Please be thinking about these situations. As one man here said, "It's sad when you turn on international news to see what's going on, and the world news is your local news." Peace here may at times seem impossible, but the people suffering are the ones who just want to see their children grow up, to see their sons and daughters marry, who want to go to school or work or the doctor's office without having to think about where they will hide if a siren sounds while they are in their car. (The answer is: a ditch. You jump out of your car, lay in a ditch and pray nothing lands near you.)

Today was our day off. Some of us went to an art exhibit about the Holocaust. Now, obviously that's a touchy topic. This artwork was a work of several sculptures, depicting Jesus at his crucifixion, with a man below. This man was originally intended to be a contemporary John, but as the artist worked on the art, it became clear to him that this John was to be different: he was to be a victim of the Holocaust. And so, in the artwork, there is interplay between the gestures and looks of Jesus and this gaunt, bald John.

There are seven panels. Each panel represents one of Jesus' last seven utterances. And the middle struck me most. It is where Jesus cries out: "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" A couple things about that really struck me.

1. How many Jewish men and women thought the same thing as they were dying in the gas chambers or being slowly starved or watching their family die off, one by one? Jesus truly understood the depths of our griefs and sorrows. The artist talked about how only God has heard some of the last cries and screams of these people, in the twenty minutes it could potentially take to die in a gas chamber. I couldn't help but wonder what their cries were, what their souls, in deep agony and crushing despair, called out to God.

2. In the panel, Jesus has taken on the aspect of the John below. In this panel, he is also bald, with the same haunted look on his face. That hit me to the core. But then another thought hit me, perhaps even harder. Yes, Jesus died for all of those who died in the Holocaust. He died for EVERY SINGLE SIN. So, in this relief panel, he could also have taken on the aspect of the German standing outside of the gas chamber... making sure all the screws were tight... burning the thousands of lifeless corpses in front of him. THAT man, Jesus died for that man, too. [And, solely based on that fact, I realize that I have a lot to learn about forgiveness and grace and mercy.]

I'm not sure whether it's the artwork that is so powerful or the personal stories that come along beside them. One woman, who herself is a Holocaust survivor, began crying in front of one of the panels as the man explained it. "How do you know? This panel is me! This is my story!" She wept as she explained that, at the age of four, her family members were sent to concentration camps, she alongside them. And how, by the age of 8, there was no one in her family left. She was all alone. How this piece of art can transcent cultures and ages and histories and religions and connect people is beyond me, but I am so glad that I was able to witness it. I am so hopeful that it will be used as a catalyst for discussion and healing and forgiveness.

The beautiful thing is that God has NOT forsaken us. He promises he will never forsake us; that He is beside us. The whole work is based on reconciliation and the final piece is a triumphant Jesus hugging the Jewish Holocaust survivor to his chest, holding a cup triumphantly above them both. It's coming. This peace, this comfort, this love: it's coming.

Won't you help to bring it?

"Oh, that my head were a spring of water and my eyes a fountain of tears!

I would weep day and night for the slain of my people."

[Jeremiah 9:1]

Bufa! Bufa!

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 00:00:00 GMT

So, the other night, I was talking to Caroline, our first squad leader, and we were talking about things we've learned on the trip thus far. I remembered one night in Romania clearly.

In Romania, the family we were living with included a precocious little two-year old named David. David had the unique talent of being both adorable and a little terror. While I normally love being around children, I found my patience tested by him quite often. His favorite word was "bufa" (Romanian for 'ball") and he would say this word repeatedly while looking for, or playing with, one of his many bufas. He cried many times, and only his mother could console him. So, our picking him up generally ended in more tears (on his end) until his mother finally came out and settled him down.

David, peeking through the curtains in Romania!

But, I often felt like the kicker was when he awoke at night. He would awaken several times throughout the night (usually when I had just reached a nice, deep sleep) screaming "Mama! Mama!" He would fuss and holler for several minutes, until eventually he was calmed by his loving parents and drifted off to sleep again.

This was what I didn't understand: he slept in the same bed as his parents; his mother was holding him in her arms.

Why was he crying out so much? His mother was right there! Couldn't he see that?

One night, after David had woken up crying and eventually settled down, I found that I couldn't return to sleep. I lay there, contemplating David's lack of intelligence in the matter of where his mother was, when all of a sudden the thought crossed my mind: "Isn't that what you do to Me?" I immediately knew this was going to be one of those learning times, when God tells me something. So, wisely, I stayed silent.

"Isn't that what you do to Me when you cry out 'God, where are You? I can't feel You! I can't hear You!' Am I not holding You through it all? Needn't you only be still and silent and you will hear Me? Am I not here with you?" Ouch. Suddenly I didn't feel much smarter than a two-year old.

But isn't that what many of us do? Aren't many of us crying out to God, wondering where He is in a certain situation, when really He is there beside us all along? He's with us, always. He will never forsake us. His whisper can be hard to hear, but I challenge you to listen for it today. It's still something I'm working out: learning to listen and not just trust my feelings. Because, to be honest, sometimes He seems so close it's as though nothing else exists. And then, there are times, when He feels so far away that doubts can creep into my mind. But, luckily, God is not a feeling.

"The Lord your God, who is going before you, will fight for you, as he did ...in the desert. There you saw how the Lord your God carried you, as a father carries his son..." [Deuteronomy 1:30-31]

"For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you." [Isaiah 41:13]

Suddenly comes slowly sometimes

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 00:00:00 GMT

I was thinking last night about a poem I enjoy. Google says it's by Billy Collins, but I really feel like it isn't.

Duck/Rabbit

The lamb may lie down with the lion,
But they will never be as close as this pair
Who share the very lines
Of their existence, whose overlapping is their raison d'etre.
How strange and symbiotic the binds
That make one disappear
Whenever the other is spied.
Throw the duck a stare,
And the rabbit hops down his hole.
Give the rabbit the eye,
And the duck waddles off the folio.
Say, these could be our mascots, you and I -
I could look at you forever
And never see the two of us together.

I was thinking about this poem because Caroline, one of our squad leaders, mentioned last night that God many times does not work quickly, but He does work suddenly. And I thought of this rabbit/duck picture. Many people see only the rabbit or the duck to begin. And after looking and looking and looking, suddenly something changes. Suddenly, they see both the rabbit and the duck. And after they can see them both, they can never go back to not seeing both animals again.

I've seen this in other things, too. As a child, I loved those 3-D pictures, the Magic Eye pictures. To start, it looks like a plain pattern. Then, as your eyes adjust and you look harder, an image within the pattern appears. Suddenly, you see what you didn't see before. A whole new realm, so to speak, has been shown to you.

Or how when watching a movie, everyone knows that the two best friends should end up together, but the two characters themselves don't see it. Then, one day, after years of friendship and fights and lost loves, they look at each other. Suddenly, it clicks. They love each other, and they can never go back to how it was before, because everything has changed. Oh, they will have to work at their love and continue to grow in it, but now they understand.

So, I loved that Caroline said that God works suddenly, because it's something I've always thought, but have never been able to put words to. God works deliberately, bringing us to certain places, times, people and circumstances, slowly (perhaps) equipping us to be ready for that proverbial Aha! moment, where things click and we make sense of something we didn't understand before.

Maybe that is what has been happening to me this month... and the many months and years before that have led up to now. Slowly, I've come to realize that the truths I used to scoff out now mean something to me. I am redeemed. I am transformed. I am loved and chosen and annointed and appointed and so many other truths that the Bible affirms. Paul didn't flippantly say things, nor did any other author within the Bible. When God said that the Israelites would be His people, and that He would be their God, He wasn't kidding. Jesus changed it to be for Gentiles, too. We are His people; He is our God. He loved us enough to die for us, and to rise again for us. My life has been bought at a price, I am no longer my own.

Suddenly, these things really, truly mean something to me. Suddenly, my worth isn't from whether or not my face is clearing up today or if I can be the best at something or how high of a test score I can get. My worth comes from God alone. And now that I know/believe this, I can't go back to how it used to be. I have to fight, sure, and I have to include others in my fight to help me along, but I'm seeing both the rabbit and the duck now. And I can't go back to when I couldn't see anymore.

Madly in love with you

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 00:00:00 GMT

So, my teammate, Matt Patch, introduced me to a singer named Sean McConnell. In short, he is amazing. One of his songs is called "Madly in Love with You". Let me say this in no uncertain terms: I love this song. It's sweet and is supposed to be what God is saying to someone. And I feel like, maybe, it's what God has been saying to me this month. So, here are the lyrics (I tried to find a Youtube link, but Youtube and Turkey aren't friends, apparently..).

One of the reasons I love the song is that it acknowledges the pain and hurt and bewilderment I think we, as Christians, can feel. And, if not all Christians, at least me. I love to think that maybe that shooting star, or that gorgeous sunset from Montenegro (see the picture!) was a proof from God that He is pursuing me. Maybe that it was a reminder, Him saying, "I'm still here! Please don't think I'm gone because I don't feel near right now." But then I also wonder why on earth God would take time to send me a shooting star (or anything else) when 24,000 people will starve to death today. I'll forego a beautiful sunset to give one of them a sandwich and a hug. But then I remember: I don't have God's mind. I don't have God's eyes. I'm praying to see the world as He does, to see people as souls that God desperately loves, to hear what people are truly saying when they speak. But it's slow, and like the song says, answers don't come all at once. (I bolded the parts I really like, put in colors or larger the "responses from God" that I really like, and need to assure my mom that I do NOT cry myself to sleep ever. I am very happy here!)

See you down there everyday
Trying to find a different way
To build some kind of latter to the sky

Trying to find some way to see
Secrets of eternity, and they don't come all at once
And you don't know why

Well how do you think it feels to hear you screaming out my name
While all the while I'm trying to open up your heart
See you when you cry yourself to sleep
It's tearing me apart

I know you wish you could see me
That's the way it has to be
Someday you'll understand,
don't you lose your faith in me

I know you wish you could hear me
Sometimes it's so hard to do
But every morning sunrise it says
I'm madly in love with you
Yes I'm madly in love with you
Yes I'm madly in love with you
Yes I'm madly in love with you

I know that you're waiting for
A chance to come in from the war,
If only a moment, if only a day

A place where you feel safe and warm
A sanctuary from the storm
Until all of these questions fade away

But I cannot count on all the signs
You've passed away as mere coincidence
And im running out of ways to break through
Like a lonely lover, Waiting by the ocean
Ill never give up on you

I know you wish you could see me
That's the way it has to be
Someday you'll understand,
Don't you lose your faith in me

I know you wish you could hear me
Sometimes it's so hard to do
But every morning sunrise it says
I'm madly in love with you
Yes I'm madly in love with you
Yes I'm madly in love with you

International smuggling? Check!

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Sunday, October 25- Monday, October 26, 2009

Location: Bus ride from Bar, Montenegro to Istanbul, Turkey

Players: Team 7 Camels and Team Unwritten

Time: 6 am, October 25.

That was the beginning. We were prepared for a 24-hour bus ride, which we were sure wouldn't be exactly ideal, but we had no idea what we were in store for! The first few mishaps included a couple of people getting explosive diarrhea and forgetting about Daylight Savings Time, meaning that we actually got to the bus stop at 4:40, not 5:40 am.

Then we got ON the bus. Told at first to sit by pairs, most of us didn't, as we were the only people on the bus. We were later kind of "herded", because the language barrier definitely got in the way a few times.

But there were two things we didn't need to speak Montenegrin to know:

1. The red circle on windows that crosses out a cigarette? Most people think that means "No smoking". What that meant on this bus was: please, smoke as much as you want! In fact, smoke even MORE than you want. And keep closing the windows. (Apparently, there is a belief that if you get cold, you'll GET a cold. Forget that you're inhaling tar, you don't want to get the sniffles!)

2. We definitely unwittingly became part of an international smuggling ring. The people on our bus were SKETCHY and kept hiding things beneath our chairs and scattering them around the bus before we reached each country's customs check. Odd? We thought so, too.

Yet, through it all, we remained in relatively high spirits. What else can you do, right? And we all decided that God definitely has a sense of humor! The name of the bus tour company? Beste Tours. Oh, irony.

Here's Dan Snyder's play-by-play of the bus ride. Enjoy!

4:11 AM: i surprisingly wake up before my alarm goes off

4:13 AM: i go into the girls room and find that two of the girls have explosive diarrhea...awesome

5:00 AM: our ministry contact, micah, picks us up in the alley...after she turns around using the ever-so-famous 9 point turn we start loading the van

5:35 AM: we all make it safe to the bus station (thanks micah)

5:45 AM: anna realizes that she stole a lid and plate from micah (sorry micah)

6:00 AM: our bus fails to show up and we realize that it must've been day light savings time or something...because all the clocks are an hour behind

5:15 AM (yeah, i know i know the time went backwards): i begin a nice conversation with an elderly serbian woman

5:23 AM: while trying to figure out daylight savings time the nice lady tells me that her daughter designs bras in NYC

5:25 AM: i offer the nice lady a bite of my swiss cake roll and she politely declines

6:00 AM: (the real 6AM): our bus shows up

6:10 AM: we take off and the first cigarette is lit in the bus

6:11 AM: we are yelled at in some foreign language that we need to sit two in each row...but we are the only passengers in the bus

6:15 AM: i fall asleep

8:13 AM: we pull over on the side of the road

8:13:15 AM: a few of the bus workers jump off the bus and start loading boxes of shoes onto the bus

8:14 AM: we quickly realize that the boxes of shoes are all being stacked under our chairs

8:27 AM: we stop at a bus stop. we pick up the montenegro national smoking team

8:27:53 AM: i get off the bus to use the bathroom and find that it's a squatty potty.

8:28 AM: i realize that the last 4 guys that have used the squatty potty before me have poor aim

8:28:05 AM: i decide i don't have to pee that bad

8:30 AM: i get back on the bus and am overwhelmed by a cloud of cigarette smoke from the MNST (montenegro national smoking team)

8:36 AM: rebecca now looks like michael jackson. she is wearing a red bandanna over her nose/mouth and has black sunglasses on to protect her from the plume of smoke that has overcome the bus

8:42 AM: i fall asleep

9:05 AM: callan witnesses the MNST gather the shoes from under the seats and secretly stack them under blankets in the back of the bus

11:13 AM: we stop at a bus stop and the shoes are offloaded. yeah, we have no idea either

11:37 AM: we stop at another bus stop and change out bus drivers...our driver is no longer purple shirt guy, its brown argyle sweater guy

12:15 PM: lunch time. i make a PB&J with no utensils while carefully balancing it on my lap the whole time...quite the skill considering brown argyle sweater guy's driving ability...or lack there of

12:17 PM: i put my sandwich together successfully and smile

12:17:20 PM: my sandwich falls off my leg and rolls down the walkway and i frown

12:17:25 PM: i am able to rescue my sandwich within the five second rule and eat it

12:36 PM: we stop at a bus station and several of the MNST start running around. they begin loading unknown items which are stashed all around the americans...yeah, sketch

12:42 PM: i begin to drift asleep but am awoken by a cat meowing

12:42:08 PM: perplexed, i begin looking around for the cat

12:42:10 PM: i hear the cat meow and begin to suspect that it's fake and that it's coming from purple shirt/blue argyle sweater vest guy

12:47 PM: i confirm that the cat call is coming from purple shirt/blue argyle sweater vest guy after he lets out a gentle meow

2:17 PM: purple shirt guy, who was once our bus driver and is now our barista, offers us nescafe...for the 7th time...i suspect that it's a bribe so that we won't tell customs about the sketchy stuff goin' down in the bus

2:20 PM: chad, who is translating for the bus manager, yells at me for having my foot up on the seat...i should've known that the red no smoking signs really meant "no feet on the seat"

5:13 PM: rebecca hands holland a bandanna that will easily function as a smoke mask

5:29 PM: holland asks if we're getting punked and asks ashton kutcher to stop the madness

6:00 PM: we stop on the side of the road and pick up two guys. one of the guys, whom i will call "big guy" looks exactly like the "gas guy" from dumb and dumber

6:00:15 PM: i am kicked out of my seat so that big guy has a seat and i cuddle up with patch

6:00:20 PM: big guy lights up his first cigarette which will remain a constant until he falls asleep several hours later

6:00:25 PM: big guy starts passing out cigarettes like they're candy to his friends on the bus...we are now having an ol' fashioned smoke-fest

6:01 PM: i decide to ask the bus manager why we have to sit in pairs and no one else does. as i should have known, the language barrier presents a slight problem and patch and i go back to cuddling

8:09:45 PM: we enter the serbia/bulgaria border checkpoint

8:10 PM: i have to ask holland to take her red bandanna and aviator shades off so we can get through the checkpoint without getting shot

8:25 PM: we make it through customs

8:34 PM: rebecca, still wearing her mask and shades, gets into a standoff with an elderly woman over whether or not the overhead vent will be shut. the woman is smoking her 42nd cigarette and loses to our MJ look-a-like, the vent stays open

8:39 PM: i fall asleep

9:01 PM: i am awoken by big guy snoring loud enough to wake up an entire bus...literally

10:30 PM: we stop at a gas station for a bathroom break. i ask adam if it was just my imagination or if the big guy was snoring. adam kindly reminds me of how i kept the entire mens room up three nights ago with my snoring...and tells me that he didn't want to hear my complaining

11:00 PM: the bus leaves the gas station suddenly

11:02 PM: bread falls out of the overhead storage compartment. i take it as a clear sign that i should fashion a piece of bread into a gas mask...but i hold out

11:30 PM: big guy falls over in his sleep and head butts the window. holland starts laughing uncontrollably. i have no idea how big guy's head didn't go through the window

11:32 PM: big guy starts to lean over into the walkway while sleeping. he nearly falls into robin's lap on several occasions

11:32:29 PM: jen shines her headlamp onto big guy in an attempt to keep him from falling over into the walkway and/or robin's lap. its successful...big guy leans back into his chair

11:40 PM: we go off-roading in the bus.

11:40:15 PM: we stop in front of a shady shop that sells stuffed animals, barbies, liquor, pastries and cologne so that the guys can offload the second load of smuggled goods

11:48 PM: we leave the SS (shady shop)

12:55 AM: big guy exhales and spits saliva all over as if he is a whale

1:20 AM: we make it to the bulgaria/turkey border checkpoint and park in front of the burger king sign

1:24 AM: the bus manager stares at beks' foot, which is on the arm rest, until she moves it

1:30 AM: brown argyle sweater driver guy decides he's tempted the americans long enough and leaves the burger king sign and drives to passport control

2:00 AM: we make it through customs with only one bag being searched, sorry anna

2:10 AM: we drift off to sleep again

2:13 AM: purple shirt/blue argyle sweater guy meows while walking down the isle

2:13:02 AM: jen barks hoping to scare the cat into silence

3:19 AM: i'm jarred awake by brown argyle sweater guy jamming on the brakes, i think it's because he knew we were all finally asleep

4:10 AM: the lights on the bus come on waking us up

4:10:30 AM: the bus manager tells me that we are in istanbul as the bus stops on the side of the road

4:11 AM: we decide that the side of the road is better then wherever else the bus may take us

4:15 AM: we get off the bus and hear a loud muslim prayer being played over a loud speaker

4:20 AM: the bus pulls away to reveal that we are standing across the street from a mosque which is playing said loud prayer over a loud speaker. we begin to pray and look up to see a street pole that says "TRUST" in plain english on it...coincidence? i think not. pretty amazing.

12:24 PM: after a long day of walking, talking and trying to find a place to sleep we are sitting in the lobby of a hostel that our logistics people found. it's super cheap and it'll get the job done! god is great!

Quick update!

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Okay, so after a crazy 24-hour bus ride and napping in a park for 3 hours, we have arrived at a hostel here in Istanbul, Turkey! It's gorgeous and shwarmas, whatever they are, are delicious!

We left from Bar, Montenegro, where our team worked with Team Unwritten, an amazing group of people on fire for God. Holland taught me a lot about listening to God and really fighting for people in prayer!

We were in Bar working with OM, and met some great people through that. Here we'll be having a debrief with our squad and then it's off to Israel!

One note: I so appreciate all comments and messages, but please just be careful with what you write! Today, one of our guys was told never to mention a certain organization over the phone again, and their 'work' could not be talked about over the phone. And while from the outside that seems very James Bond-ish and cool, the threat of punishment and harm is very real for many people in this country. So, when you say you're thinking of me, I know what you mean! And I thank you for your thoughts! :)

Love you all! Have a wonderful day!

Who died for that diamond in your ring?

Mon, 19 Oct 2009 00:00:00 GMT

My teammate, Adam, loves movies that show the reality of the world we live in. He likes for people to see these movies, because while knowledge isn't necessarily power, applied knowledge is. And we can't have that knowledge if we don't know.

So, we watched Blood Diamond yesterday. GREAT movie. Beforehand, Adam and I had been talking about the government and rebels in Sierra Leone in the late 1990s, when the movie takes place. I was pretty sure that I couldn't forgive either side. And so when I said that maybe the rebels should just be shot, too, Adam replied, "But they're just children."

And it's true. There are still, in Africa, over 200,000 child soldiers. Children, having seen their mothers raped and killed, or their fathers decapitated, or having seen their entire family shot to death, and then kidnapped to be part of this rebel army. These children, who have seen such horrors, and are then taught to inflict more of this pain and death onto others. In the movie, Dia is such a boy, ripped from his mother's arms, his father having already been taken to work in a diamond mine.

We see what Dia goes through: the endless chants declaring hatred and supremacy, being given a new name (some included "baby killer" and "see me no more"), being injected with heroin, taught that hatred and power are the only ways to gain respect, being taught that human life is worthless, being made to slaughter people. We see Dia, the little boy who laughed and wanted to become a doctor, becoming a killing machine. His father, Solomon, does not see this. So, it's shocking when Solomon, having come so far to find his son, finally does find him, and Dia responds, "I don't know you! I hate you! You are not my father!"

And yet, in the end, with Dia holding a gun at another man (which turns into a beautiful story of redemption, as well), Solomon woos him back to the land of the living. (It brought tears to my eyes.) This father, on his knees, weeping for his son. "You are good," he tells his beloved son, "Dia, What are you doing? Dia! Look at me, look at me. What are you doing? You are Dia Vendy, of the proud Mende tribe. You are a good boy who loves soccer and school. Your mother loves you so much. She waits by the fire making plantains, and red palm oil stew with your sister N'Yanda and the new baby. The cows wait for you. And Babu, the wild dog who minds no one but you. I know they made you do bad things, but you are not a bad boy. I am your father who loves you. And you will come home with me and be my son again." And Dia, somehow, regains his humanity. He again becomes a little boy, desperately wanting love. It's beautiful.

And isn't that what God does with us? Don't we deny Him, say that we hate His ways and love with our sinning? And doesn't He come, on His knees, crying for His beloved, saying, "Come home. I love you. I miss you. Come home."

I'm so glad He does. I am so thankful for the relentless pursuit of God for all of His people and for me. He desperately loves each of us, and I really think that He cries with us as we cry. The tragedies and horrors of the movie are impressed upon his heart. We have an enemy that tries constantly to steal our joy, our peace, our lives, and sometimes we listen to the chants that he is screaming into our ears. And yet God is always ready, waiting with open arms and forgiveness. "You may have done bad things, but My blood covers it all. You are mine. I will fight for you. I will search you out over the ends of the earth. You are my son and I love you."

"The Lord our God is merciful and forgiving, even though we have rebelled against him..." (Daniel 9:9)

[The movie also does note at the end that, in 2003, forty nations signed the Kimberly Process, designed to help stop illegal diamonds from being sold together with legitimate diamonds. But it's up to the consumer to make sure that the diamond he or she is about to purchase hasn't also been bought at the expense of human lives and turmoil. Please check into it. And also look at Invisible Children to learn more about child soldiers.]

When God answers prayers through puppies on beaches

Wed, 7 Oct 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Let me just say that I don't believe, in any way, shape, or form, that God has put us in Ulcinj, Montenegro on accident. This entire trip was divinely appointed from the get-go, and has been a good faith-builder for our first ATL (Ask the Lord) month. It has been great to see the openness and curiosity of those living in a town where there are four professing Christians. (Our contact, Bukurija, actually led another woman to Christ, but that woman lives in Kosovo.)

So, we are about a 6-minute walk from the beach. I can state, without a doubt, that I adore the ocean. I would rather swim in the ocean than eat. The calming sound of the steady waves, the changing colors of blue throughout the day, the vastness of it: I just find oceans incredible. I also love the inherent metaphors that kind of go along with oceans.

So, yesterday, two cool things happened. The first is that the puppy we all love showed up and came over to us, cuddling and playing. Audrey had been praying that the puppy would come, as we all needed a little pick-me-up, and then it came. I know it's a little thing, but ours is a God of little things. I really think He sent that dog just to lavish a bit more of His love on us that day.

The second is that the boys we have been platying beach soccer (sorry, Adam...I mean, "football") with came to play and talk. They were swimming, waiting for the ball to arrive, and I looked up to see one excitedly running towards me and Bukurija. In his hand was what I can best describe as a lump. It looked like a slug on steroids. He had found it in the ocean and mistakenly thought that I would want to see it. He plopped it down in front of Bukurija and me and smiled broadly. Choking back a cry of disgust, I murmered a "felimderit", which means thank you, except I say it wrong and people always laugh at my pronunciation.

The boy's dad then runs over, saying to not touch it, it might be poisonous. That prompted me to roll it onto a sandal and start heading for the ocean. The thing, although gross and nasty, was still alive and I couldn't let it suffer while it suffocated outside of the water. In the time it took me to get it on the shoe, the boy had already run for another one. This one was leaking motor oil, or maybe just blood or something. At any rate, it managed to be even worse-looking than the first.

I swear there's a point; it's coming! As I threw the two things back in the water, I felt sorry for them. No legs and no arms! At the mercy of the current and the waves. No way to fight. I like to have my arms and legs, to fend for myself, to be in movement and to do what I want.

But if I'm being led by the Spirit, won't I be more like those sea creatures? Won't I go where the Spirit leads and do what the Spirit tells me to do? Won't I stop fighting so much and depending on my own strengths and so-called talents and abilities to get through? It was a tough thought, as I don't like being still and not being in control.

We're told to be still and know that God is God--- I wonder why I can't know that while I'm moving. Exodus 14:14 tells us that God will fight for us, we need only to be still. Can't God fight for me while I wield a sword, too? I know the answers to these questions, but my heart still tries to resist what I know is the Truth, sometimes.

So, my new goal for this month is to allow God to use me. No opposition, no fighting, just flowing along with the Spirit, like those things are carried by the current, or like birds are carried by the wind.

More than enough

Sat, 3 Oct 2009 00:00:00 GMT

I was reading in Exodus last night about the building of the Tabernacle and all the things the Lord had commanded to be built. As I was reading, I came across this:

"..and everyone who was willing and whose heart moved him came and brought an offering to the LORD for the work on the Tent of Meeting, for all its service, and for the sacred garments." (Exodus 35:21) The following verses describe gifts that were brought and services that were supplied by those who were able.

Then, in chapter 36, verse 5, the skilled craftsmen say to Moses, "The people are bringing more than enough for doing the work of the LORD commanded to be done." So the people, we are told in verses 6 and 7, were "restrained for bringing more, because what they already had was more than enough to do all the work."

As you know, I have reached my fundraising goal. But many of my teammates and squadmates have not. We are here because God has called us to be here. We are here to do work that we have been commanded to do.

And it is willing people, like yourselves, who will help us to stay on the field and continue this good work.

Are you willing to help?

My teammates, Matt Patch and Audrey Powell, are still fundraising. There is also an amazing married couple, Nick and Lacey Pauley, who have a lot of money left to raise. I believe that God will provide. We all do. I also believe that there is more than enough among us.

In chapter 38, the tally of what was obtained is given. More than one metric ton of gold was offered, and about 2.4 metric tons of bronze was given. We are each trying to raise about $15,000. Can you help them reach that goal?

(And if you are unable or unwilling to give monetarily, please consider sending e-mails of encouragement. A kind of word is never lost and is VERY appreciated. It is hard to be away from home, and growing into the men and women of God who He has called us to be is occasionally painful!)

Coffee and cleaning

Fri, 2 Oct 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Two days ago, my teammate, Anna, and I were walking to a beach here in Ulcinj, Montenegro. (Random fact: It's also spelled Ulqin, depending on whether it's in Albanian or Serbian.) The walk was just beautiful. We could see the ocean, in all its vastness, and the sun was filtering through trees as we walked. The smell of the pines we were walking past filled my nostrils, the beauty overcame me and I just felt joy.

And with each breath of the pine-scented air (better than Pine-sol could ever hope to smell, by the way), I kept having memories of my grandmother and grandfather in Michigan. I always associate the scent of pine with my grandma, because her yard is filled with several pine trees.

My mind went back to when I was four, and my grandpa would press down on the seat of the riding lawnmower, because I wasn't heavy enough for it to run if I was just sitting on the seat. He would patiently walk behind the mower as I, happy as a lark, "mowed" the lawn. (I later found out that he never put the blade down to actually cut the grass, but I thought I was being helpful.) I remember my grandpa teaching me how to play cribbage and calling me "Monster", to which I would vehemently scream, "I a teet guh!" I meant to say "I'm a sweet girl," but my pronunciation of certain words came a bit later for me than for some.

And I'm reminded of my grandma: of countless cups of coffee; of grilled cheese sandwiches on Sunday afternoons; of sitting on the porch with her, my mom and uncle on warm summer days; of staying up way too late at night, just laughing and talking; of the chocolate cake she makes that is pretty much perfection in pastry form. I think of the fun we have while "spring" cleaning her house during the summer and how often the cleanliness she loves has helped me to serve others. I think of watching Pillow Talk with her and discovering the actor Rock Hudson and of our mutual love (some might say obsession) for chocolate.

I admire my grandmother on so many levels. She is kind. She is sweet. She is a wonderful woman. My dad sometimes says that she should be nominated for sainthood, and I don't disagree. She is a faithful mother, devoted to her children. Seeing how she is so devoted to caring for my uncle has really been a blessing in my life. Her fierce love for her son is just a watered-down version of God's awesome love for us, but it is a physical representation that has taught me much. She's active enough that she puts me to shame sometimes! She enjoys food and cooking, relishing in the conversations that come from spending time together in the kitchen.

My grandmother hates seeing lonely people. Whether it be for a Sunday dinner or for a holiday, she is quick to invite others, never wanting anyone to feel alone or unloved during a special season.

So, Grandma, know that, 6 time zones away, I am thinking of you. I am thankful for who you are, for the many laughs we've shared, and the hours you played "Hide the gum wrapper" with me during long car rides. I am thankful that you were the mother you were, because that in turn made my own mother into the wonderful mother she has been. I am thankful and grateful that God blessed me with you. Love you!

Dessert with Jesus

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 00:00:00 GMT

So, we just got done with "The Awakening", a three-day event where all of the World Racers on the field came to Brasov, Romania. Seth Barnes and Andrew Shearman, as well as Michael Hindes, spoke. It was a really great time. I mean, okay, I cried for most of it, but it was a really great time for OTHER people!

Why was I crying, you may ask? (And if you know me, you'll ask that more fervently, because I rarely cry.) I think I was crying because I so rarely cry. I think God is finally, truly, breaking me of things I decide to just "brush off" and "get over". Sometimes, I am hurt by something, but I refuse to acknowledge that hurt. And then that hurt festers and grows, because it's still there but I'm ignoring it. If you ignore an infection, does it go away? I had an infection in my jaw once. It didn't get better by refusing to acknowledge the lump forming. It only got better when the dentist gave me a root canal (still a sore topic with me!). But the dentist had to go in, take out all the bad stuff, fix what was wrong. And God has to do that to me. It's painful. It sucks. But it's how, in the end, I'm going to come out cleaner and healthier. It's the only way.

So, one night during the Awakening, I was crying during worship. I don't know for who or why I was crying, but I was just overcome. And a good friend, Marissa, came over too me. She told me that she had asked God for a vision for me. And in the vision, she saw Jesus and I sitting at a table, kind of like you would on a date. I was asking Him all of these questions and he just smiled at each one. But the smile wasn't malicious, it was a pleased smile. She thought it meant that God is pleased with my questions and my desire to know Him more fully, that God isn't angry with my questions, but that He thoroughly enjoys my curiosity. I sure hope so.

But her words were good for me on another level, as well. Jesus would smile at me? Die for me, sure, but enjoy spending time with me? It shouldn't be, but that's kind of a new concept for me. While I am such a firm believer in grace for others, I often don't offer it to myself. So, that's my goal for this month. To allow myself to ask questions, but then be very quiet in listening and very intent on trying to find the answers in God's word. I'll never know completely who He is, but I want more.

Children always ask "Why?" It's probably the word we would love to take out of their vocabulary. But WHY is the sky blue? WHY do I have to go to bed? WHY are vegetables good for you. WHY will the juice not come out of the carpet? WHY can't our cat and dog be friends?

Maybe having faith like a child means asking "Why?" sometimes.

Confessions of a ... missionary

Fri, 18 Sep 2009 00:00:00 GMT

This is going to be a sort of roller coaster emotional blog, so just prepare yourselves.

But, first things first: I HAVE REACHED MY FINANCIAL GOAL FOR THE WORLD RACE!! That means that, thanks to your generosity, I am fully-funded. But, if you were thinking about giving, please don't let me being funded stop you from giving. There are still lots of people on the team who need more funds to reach their goals. Chad and Leslie Jower come to mind: they are a beautiful married couple, trying to raise money for two instead of one. Look at the rest of the Seven Camels team, too: I can attest that these are great men and women of God, who are growing in their faith and who are so willing to follow God wherever He leads them. So, praise God!! Supporters, you'll be getting some celebratory mail soon, but it's got to cross an ocean first!!

Also, we went apple-picking on Tuesday as part of our ministry. We were supposed to do that Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. However, after Tuesday, we were told we were no longer needed. Apparently, we are not that good at picking apples, though we sure had fun doing it for those few hours!

And now, as always, life gets messy and sticky and unsure. I always thought that, if one became a missionary, then that person's faith was steady as a rock. Never wavering, never faltering, he or she forged ahead, marching as to war, just like the good Christian soldier he or she was.

And now I'm here, a supposed missionary. And I'm realizing just what a rotten person I am. I am hateful, I am spiteful, I am judgmental, I am condescending. Two days ago, a boy from another team joked that maybe my spiritual gift was "offending people". Me? At home, my biggest fear is to offend someone or to be unkind to someone.

And yet here, I see how the priest and Levite could have walked by the man on the side of the road. Because I walk by children and villagers, caught up in what my idea of what our ministry should look like, and I walk past the broken person inside of them, the person yearning for a hug, a kind word, or even just a smile.

And the worst of it all? That I KNOW Jesus died for me, that he arose, for the glorification of the Father, but also to pay the price for our sins. To redeem us. I know that, and yet I sit in church and wonder if I believe the words I'm singing. I wonder at the belief these others hold. How have I faltered so? If Jesus called Peter, who stepped off the boat "O ye of little faith", then what am I, who is still cowering on deck, being splattered by the waves and my own tears?

We were taught a new way to pray for healing a few nights ago. The basic premise is that you start out by affirming who that person is in Christ. You ask, "Do you know that God loves you? Do you know that He delights in you? Do you know how proud He is of you?" I couldn't answer those things for myself; I'm not currently sure of the answer. Well, let me explain: my head knows the answer, but right now, my heart is rebelling against it. Why would God be proud of ME? Why would God delight in me?

I am so many things that I thought I wasn't. So many things I don't want to be. It seems that I am more and more filled with questions... about faith, about femininity, about beauty, about truth, about how God talks to us and when and why. And then I don't hear God speaking. I want so badly to hear, and He is silent. I don't understand. I am trying to be peaceful about this, but as my teammates can attest, I am failing at that. I know it's in these times that we must forge ahead, keep seeking and trusting. I never thought I went on feelings that much, but it's as if feeling so far removed from God has made me feel completely alone. Even surrounded by the other 6 in my group, I feel so completely, utterly alone.

So, I think I owe an apology to all of you: people who read my blog and my supporters. You have paid out of the ears to get me over here, and once here, my faith falters and I'm on shaky ground. This shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry that I'm not stronger, that I don't walk more by faith than by sight, that I am not more able to be vulnerable and loving.

I don't say these things to scream out "Woe is me!" and to look like I'm begging for compliments and kind words. If this trip has taught me one thing so far, it's that Words of Affirmation are NOT my "love language". I just want to be honest with you all, to let you walk in this journey with me. So, my steps are few and small, but thanks for walking along.

Buna ziua, Romania!

Fri, 18 Sep 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Here is a video my teammate Matt Patch made of our time in Romania so far! Enjoy!

What's your number? [Kal ho naa ho]

Mon, 14 Sep 2009 00:00:00 GMT

"Kal ho naa ho" means, roughly, "Tomorrow may not come." It reminds me of a Nickelback song. In the video for Nickelback's video "Saved", a man undertakes a big task: saving those who are about to lose their lives. Above the heads of every person in the video is a clock of sorts, counting down how many hours and minutes are left until that person will die. He saves a few people from various accidents, as he notices that the numbers of the 'clock' have dwindled down to seconds.

Two nights ago, there was a car accident in the village. A woman walking by the side of the road was killed, struck by the vehicle that then rolled over, having lost control from a blown tire. My heart aches for those in the vehicle (they all got out alive, with only a few minor bumps, scrapes and aches). Those who saw the car afterwards were all in wonder that anyone made it out of the car alive. But the driver and passengers all saw something that is terrible and ingrains itself into your memory: the face of a woman in her last seconds of life. In Romania, vehicular manslaughter (even accidental), carries a big sentence. The driver is looking at probably at least 7 years in prison.

And as much as we are praying for that man, for leniency in the judicial system and grace, I am more heartbroken for that woman's family. My poet's mind wonders what she was doing in those last seconds of her life. Was she making to-do lists for the next day? Thinking about how she had reacted badly when her children had misbehaved earlier? Was she thinking about how her husband had sweetly picked her favorite flower for her that morning?

Her family did not wake up two days ago thinking that that was the day they would lose a mother and a wife. She did not wake up that morning thinking that this was her last day to walk the earth. The man driving did not wake up thinking that after this day, he would be a man who had (even accidentally) taken another's life.

The word "fair" keeps running through my mind. It isn't FAIR, God! It isn't fair that this woman, walking home, was hit by a car and killed! It isn't fair that her family has to suffer so! It isn't fair that a husband is going to bed alone tonight, in a bed that he has shared with someone for the past thirty years.

But we're never promised fair in life, are we? In fact, we're reminded to number our days. "Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." (Psalm 90:12). And Jesus points out that by worrying, we cannot add a single day to our lives (Matthew 6:34).

That's something I forget often. I make plans as if my will will trump God's. As though I am promised many tomorrows and a future, I tell God, "Next time. Next time I see that person, I'll tell them about Christ and Your love." "Next time, God! Next time, I promise I'll listen to Your voice." "Tomorrow, God. I'll do that tomorrow." Even on the Race so far, I've found myself thinking ahead, about what I'll be doing after this is through, after I've returned to the States. Living in the moment isn't something that comes easily to me.

Today, I challenge you to live in the moment. Tell those you love that you love and cherish them, put the work down to play with your child, compliment a stranger, spread some love, tell that aching person about a God who cares.

Because you just never know.

Kal ho naa ho.

Peanut butter jelly time!

Thu, 27 Aug 2009 00:00:00 GMT

If you have known me from childhood, you're probably aware that, when I was little, the smell of peanut butter made me gag. (You can bet that my older brother took full advantage of that fact.) So going into the World Race, I knew I'd be facing growth in the gastronomical area, as the thought of peanut butter still makes me cringe somewhat. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches have become a food staple for us (on one Euro each per person per meal, it's a bit hard to find more than that, although our team food shoppers found 16 "Economy" burgers for two Euro today!). Peanut butter is pretty filling, though, and not as bad as I always made it out to be. And no, we weren't sure what was in the "economy" burger, either!

We leave for Romania on Tuesday, at about 6 am here (so, 1 am for the Michiganders reading). I'm sad to leave here! Somewhere in my mind, I recognized the fact that we would leave each country after our month was finished, but I didn't factor in growing close with people and contacts, loving having all 43 of us together in one campsite or how comfortable situations become and how much I can dislike change. So Tuesday looms and I am both excited for embark on the next leg of the Race and melancholy about leaving Ireland (the people, but not really the weather).

What else have I learned on the World Race so far? That I can wear the same shirt three days in a row. That showers every day, or even every other day, aren't really necessary. That scarves make it look like you care about your appearance and cleanliness, when really what they do is hide greasy hair. That the vegetable bags in grocery stores make good bags to carry food in, because those aren't free in Ireland. Chacos match anything. Most REI tents can handle intense wind, though a few have fallen to the fury that is the Irish wind coming off of the Atlantic. That community means being vulnerable and open and sharing yourself, and while that's difficult, the rewards far outweigh the seeming cost associated with doing so. That it takes 19 people about 4 hours to put stickers into the front of 10,000 books.

The church we are working with, Discovery Church, is doing a "book drop" soon. So, on the front of the 10,000 Max Lucado books, we put a sticker that told a bit about Discovery Church and invited the recipient of the book to come to the church and to read the book. (I also have to add that we watched Beauty and the Beast while we worked, and we have some TALENTED people on the team, able to sing "Be Our Guest" word by word.) I will put up some pictures of the piles of books and sticker backings that surrounded us on the floor, but we finished and had fun doing so.

I love how Discovery Church really works to get out into the community, to reach out to people who need to learn of a loving, redeeming God. Our God is a God who transforms, restores and redeems and I pray that every person and family who receives the book has a transformative encounter with God and comes to know Him as their Lord and Savior.

Tomorrow we head to the Cliffs of Moher to enjoy God's beautiful creation. Take some time today to smell the proverbial roses, to notice the little whispers of love that God has placed in your path. All of creation screams His glory, so I hope you take time to listen for it today.

"Sing for joy, O heavens, for the Lord has done this;

shout aloud, O earth beneath.

Burst into song, you mountains,

you forests and all your trees,

for the Lord has redeemed Jacob..."

And also check out this video that Ken Virzi made of our time here so far. He's working with Abundant Life church in Galway; read his blog to find out more!

Camping is in tents

Fri, 21 Aug 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Lame title, I know. Get it? "Intense" and "in tents"? Ha. Yes, I'm pretty sure my team is tired of my goofy attempts at humor, as well!

But we honestly are in tents this entire month. We started out outside of Dublin and are now situated in Salthill, which is about a mile from the lovely city of Galway. Our tents are maybe 100 meters from the Atlantic Ocean. And while the view is incredible, I can't lie to you: Ireland is rather windy, cold and rainy. But, yesterday we saw three double rainbows! We also almost were blown away by the wind, but the rainbows made up for it slightly.

We've been working with Discovery Church, a church where "we do church differently". What does that mean? Some of us are still thinking about what a different church looks like, but our contact has amazing ideas. We went out and cleaned graffiti and picked up trash, speaking with people along the way. Being the arms and feet of Jesus is a new concept to many of the people here, who have been really hurt by the church in the past.

Ireland has a huge stereotype of being a land of laughing redheads, jockularity coursing through their veins, a land flowing with Guiness and more Guiness. But Jimmy, the outreach pastor at Discovery, told us some sobering facts. Less that one percent of Europeans are Evangelical Christians. The church in Africa is growing 50 times faster than the European church. Ireland is the least-evangelized country in Europe, and the average missionary here only lasts 1.5 years before heading home. Suicide is a huge problem here. God isn't relevant to people here; they see no need for a God. It's hard to talk to people sometimes but we've also found some people who were really open to listening about this God we preach- a God who loved us enough to come to earth to do the one thing he couldn't do in heaven: die. FOR US. A God who cares about our hurts and pains. A God who has sent 84 (maybe a little crazy) young adults around the world to proclaim His love, redemption and grace.

I loved what one woman said. She said that, after having become a Christian, what she has found is this:

"The journey is hard, but I'm no longer alone."

I also really liked that, because we're working with an amazing woman of God named Angela this week. Her journey has been hard at times, but she's not alone. (None of us are!) Talking to her and her mother has been the highlight of my time here so far. They are both so wise and full of God. The word "feisty" also comes to mind when I think of these two! It's been a pleasure to help them out with yardwork and housework, to be fed by them (physically and spiritually) and to just meet two women who are so passionate about seeing the Kingdom be restored in Galway and in Ireland.

View from a cliff by our campground.

Want to pray? Pray for our squad's health, for divine appointments, that people be receptive to what we share with them, that Carol, Jimmy, Angela, Paul and Discovery and Abundant Life churches be blessed and be a blessing to this community, that God just work in huge ways in this country and city, and that the Internet start working for us in a more consistent manner!

Also? I don't hate camping anymore! Though going to sleep afraid I'll be blown into the sea has added a new dimension to my prayer life! :P Be blessed today!

Hasta luego!

Sun, 9 Aug 2009 00:00:00 GMT

I have one more full day before I head out to JFK and the J and K squads fly to Dublin! This summer has seemingly flown by; I cannot believe that it is already time to be leaving on this grand adventure God has chosen me for! I am filled with so much excitement, yet, a tiny part of me wants to hold back. It is the part of me who loves being home, surrounded by family. It is the part of me who reaches out and pets my cat, who is currently seated right beside me and who sleeps in my bed at night. It is the part of me who finds comfort in breakfast at Villager's after church on Sundays. It is the part of me that is selfish and that I haven't quite quelled completely yet. Scripture calls us to crucify our flesh and take up our cross daily. Yes, I'll miss my family! Yes, I'll miss my friends! But I have the chance to go be the hands and feet of Jesus for nations hungry for the good news of Jesus Christ. This outweighs any feelings of sadness I might have!

Here's one of the people I'll be missing while I'm gone, though:

This is my niece, who is a little over one year. She is completely adorable, has the most serene demeanor I've ever seen in a one-year old, and loves to show you where her boogers are (yes, we are a classy family!). She also gives Eskimo kisses and the best hugs on Earth. I've told her not to grow or change any until I come back, but I'm betting she won't listen to me on that!

I'm sure going to miss her, but at least I'll be back for her Terrible Twos!

My next post, then, will be from Ireland!

Please pray for safe travel as we fly into JFK and as we fly from JFK to Ireland. Pray for peace and guidance as we begin this mission trip and for bonding between squads and teammates. Pray for those we're going to come into contact with, that God will soften their hearts, open their eyes to His glory, and that seeds be planted in the hearts of those who don't choose to believe while we are there. Please also pray for our families, as, though they are supportive, they are also sacrificing a lot this year.