Barbed Wire

Fences with barbed-wire loomed on either side of me as I inched my car through the gates. I stopped at the guardhouse to show my volunteer badge and parked in the visitor section before making my way to one of several cottages. Nerves kept me alert as I crossed the lawn and entered the lobby before being directed to a side room.

The juvenile detention center always made me nervous. My comfort zone waited for me somewhere far outside the confines of this facility that housed troubled teens.

Six or more girls attended our weekly Bible study. I helped facilitate small group discussion and other activities that the leader planned.

I glanced at the white board on the wall. It had not been erased from some previous group therapy session. Red and black marker spelled out the formative years of one of the participants: gender confusion, divorce, jail, victimization. You name it. I looked into the eyes of the girls who entered the room. They were glazed. Medication kept most of the girls in a fog.

After the Bible study we divided into small groups for discussion. The other volunteer and I took a couple of girls each.

“I don’t know if I should do this,” one of the girls in my group said. She lowered her gaze.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

She reached into her mouth, pulled out a tiny object, and handed it to me. A staple. I looked at her, questions filling my eyes like the fog that filled hers.

“I have been hiding it in my mouth for several days,” she said. “I was going to hurt myself, but I know now that is wrong. I want you to get rid of it.”

I stuck the staple in my pocket, unsure what else to do. I would ask the Bible study leader about it later. She knew the protocols. Before I had a chance to think about it any further, the Bible study leader called to the other volunteer and I.

“These two young women would like to pray to receive Jesus.” She gestured toward two of the girls and looked at the other volunteer. “Can you help them do that?”

This made sense, of course, as the other volunteer was a seminary graduate. I looked at her and saw panic.

“No,” she said. “I can’t do that.” She looked at me with frantic eyes. “Can you do it instead of me?”

“Of course,” I said. I moved to where the two girls sat and, in simple words, explained how Jesus had taken the punishment we deserved and how He would forgive us if we turned from our sin and confessed Him as Lord. That night those two girls prayed, asked Jesus to save them, and became my new sisters in Christ!

As I drove past the barbed fences and back to my comfort zone, I couldn’t help but wonder: “What happened back there?”

A seminary graduate afraid to pray with two girls asking for salvation? Wasn’t that the “golden moment” for anyone in ministry? I felt blessed by the opportunity to guide two girls into the Kingdom. But I think that blessing was meant for the other lady. Her fear immobilized her at a most crucial time.

I learned a couple of things that night. First, no amount of training (seminary, classes, certificates, etc.) enables us to do the Lord’s work if we do not also obey the Spirit when it comes time to act. Second, if I don’t step up when it’s my turn to act, the Lord may choose to give the blessing to someone else.

That night, I received the blessing of watching two girls get forgiven and saved. But lest I become prideful, that night is also a reminder to me. I could very easily become the one who misses out on the blessing if I refuse to listen, become too lazy to obey, or focus my eyes on fear.

Clouds

NORTH AFRICA? Are you kidding me? I am so excited! I've been asked to lead a Bible Study at a retreat in a few months...in North Africa. Those of you who know our history know that this means I get to go back to our "old stompin' grounds," or at least close to it. I am endlessly thankful for the opportunity and am beside myself with excitement.

I had several ideas already for what I could do and was making little mental notes and trying not to get too invested in case it didn't work out. But a Skype call on Friday confirmed that all is a "go" and I can buy my tickets. Woohoo!

But also, after talking for over an hour with my friend, a cloud of doubt crept into my head.

What do I have to offer these ladies? Nothing!

I watched helplessly as the doubt monster flung all my ideas out the window. (Oops, I already described the doubt as a cloud and now it's a monster. I guess it was a cloudy monster...or a monstrous cloud. Either way, it stomped on my happiness.)

After the conversation, I drove to school to pick up the kids. I parked the car and walked across campus to sit on a bench overlooking the beach. Yes, you read that right, my kids go to school by the beach. Life is crazy.

The benches are at the edge of a drop-off that goes down to a second ledge and then the beach. From here, I had a beautiful view of the water and the mainland in the distance. On this day, the view took my breath away. A storm approached and dark clouds shaded the water, turning it to a beautiful turquoise, like a sparkling gem. I was overcome with peace.

God orchestrated that storm: the rain-filled clouds, the color of the water, the cool wind. He was completely in control of it. If He can do all of that--can create something so magnificent--He can guide me to prepare for this retreat.

"Remember to extol his work, which men have praised in song. All mankind has seen it; men gaze on it from afar. How great is God--beyond our understanding!...He draws up the drops of water, which distill as rain to the streams; the clouds pour down their moisture and abundant showers fall on mankind. Who can understand how he spreads out the clouds...God's voice thunders in marvelous ways he does great things beyond our understanding." (from Job 36 and 37)

Unusual Christmas Guests

“They are gonna rob you blind,” someone said. I couldn’t argue because they voiced the words I was already thinking.

“We’ll lock the bedroom doors,” I offered.

I glanced around the living room. By American standards we have a simple home. But we do have a bookcase filled with books and curios from around the world. I imagined myself welcoming our guests by saying, I’m sorry you can barely feed your family, but do you see my beautiful blown-glass vase from Egypt? With the money I paid for it, you could have a new set of clothes, or buy dinner for all fifteen people crammed into your tiny home. Yeah, I better clear off the bookshelf before they come.

We are inviting a rather poor family to our home during the Christmas season. It’s not just a poor family: it’s a poor family with some unsavory habits and characteristics. That’s why we’ll need to lock the doors. But here’s the thing, Jesus didn’t come for the well, He came for the sick, right?

So  my “to do” list to get ready for our guests is:

1.      Find a place for our dog to go for the day. Dogs are dirty in their religion.

2.      Find a place to cater some rice and meat. My kitchen is not halal since I cook with pork. I’ll need to buy food from a halal restaurant.

3.      Find the keys to all our bedroom doors. Seriously.

4.      Bake cookies and lots of them.

5.      Find a carpet to put on the floor so guests can sit on the floor as well as the furniture. That's how we roll in this part of the world.

This list is a little different from your basic “get ready for Christmas” list right? You aren’t gonna find this one on Pinterest! But here’s the other thing. Because this family is…well…because they are who they are…here is what WON’T matter:

1.      If the house is clean

2.      If the house smells nice

3.      If the Christmas tree is big and beautiful

4.      If my hosting skills are perfect

5.      If my furniture matches

Just the fact alone that they will come to our house is special enough for them. Nothing else matters, everything else is “icing on the cake”…I guess in this culture we might say “Everything else is extra servings of dried fishies on the rice."

And I got to thinking…

When God invites me to Himself, to His love, to His will…am I a cleaned up proper guest who evaluates everything He does for me? Or am I just an unworthy sinner who is so happy to simply be invited?

This poor…can we even say unsavory?...family is teaching me a lot about how to be a better servant for my Master.

Pray that this family will feel loved in our home and will have ears to hear the Reason for the Season.

God's Christmas To Do List

It's Christmas season and people are shopping and planning and bustling about. I got to thinking about the very first Christmas and all that God did to make it the amazing day that it was. He had quite a TO DO list y'all. Here is what I found:

GOD'S TO DO LIST

            WHEN                                    WHAT

            42 generations before              Begin lineage: 3 groups of 14

Isaiah 7:14                               Have Isaiah  prophecy virgin birth and the name Immanuel

Micah 5:2                                Have Micah prophecy Messiah’s birth in Betlehem.

Hosea 11:1                              Have Hosea prophecy Jesus going to Egypt

Jeremiah 31:15                        Have Jeremiah prophecy the deaths of many young boys (because of Herod’s greed)

Long ago                                (Matt. 2:23) Have someone prophecy “He will be called a Nazarene”

Years Before                           Make sure Zechariah and Elizabeth have no children

Year or more before                (Luke1:8-11) Make Zechariah be chosen by lot to go into the temple then send Gabriel to speak to him and foretell the birth of John, who will prepare the way for Jesus.

In Elizabeth’s 6^th month          Send Gabriel to tell Mary what will happen

6 months before                      Send angel to tell Joseph what will happen

Several months before            Have a star appear, visible in the East. Prompt men there to see it and instill in them a desire to follow it

“In those days”                       Have Caesar Augustus decide to take a census of the entire Roman World

Just before birth                      Luke 2:4,5 Have Mary and Joseph go to Bethlehem

A few days before                  Make sure all inns in Bethlehem are full.

The day of                               Make sure there are not too many animals in the stable.

The day of                               Help Mary safely give birth

The night of                            Send the angel choir to the skies outside of Bethlehem to sing for shepherds.

After that                                Matt. 2:9 Have the star guide Wisemen from East to the exact spot

After the visit                          Matt 2:12 Warn the Wisemen in a dream to go home a different route than before.

When they are gone                Send an angel to tell Joseph to escape to Egypt.

After Herod dies                     Send an angel to tell Joseph to return

After Joseph hears about

Archelaus being king              Send angel to tell Joseph to go to Nazareth

Maybe you can find more in Scripture. If you do, write it in the comments so I can add it to the list!

To The Lady in the Pink Hat

We saw you at the edge of the water as we finished dinner at a seaside cafe.

A lady in a pink hat.

How could we miss it? 

You were covered in black from head to toe. 

You looked like the other covered ladies walking by.

But your pink hat caught our attention. 

A big floppy pink hat. 

With it you said,

"I am here! I am beautiful!"

And I know you are.

Not because I can see past the  black cloth that engulfs even your face.

But because I know your Creator.

And He makes all things beautiful.

We joined you at the edge of the water, after we finished dinner at the seaside cafe.

A lady in a pink hat.

"We love your hat!"

You were covered in black from head to toe.

You looked like the other covered ladies walking by.

But your eyes shone like sapphires.

Under the floppy hat.

Your husband said,

"She is too beautiful for others to see."

We chat for a few minutes.

It's tricky because of the black cloth that engulfs even your face.

But I know your Creator.

And I'm asking Him to make all things beautiful.

You won't be standing there on the beach the next time I'm at the seaside cafe.

Lady in the pink hat.

You'll be back home.

You'll be covered in black from head to toe.

Surrounded by covered ladies walking by.

But God has set eternity in your heart.

So I will pray for you.

The Lady in the Pink Hat.

Gideon and the Reset

What do you do when the problem outweighs any solution you can come up with? Do you have the courage to ask God for help? I ask this for all of us because if you have any history of trusting God in a life situation, you know that He sometimes works in “unorthodox” ways. Are you (am I) ready for that? This is what I asked myself as I read Judges 6 and 7. 

The Characters:

1. First we have the Midianites. Judges 6:1-6 describes them and they are quite nasty. A formidable enemy. 
2. Second we have Gideon. He has a personal and active relationship with the Lord. He is the latest leader of Israel’s army. 
3. Third we have the Israelites. They have a colorful past, but a steady history with God. Among the Israelites, we have 32,000 warriors.

The Problem: the Midianite warriors. They are too many to even count (Judges 6:5). They are mean, they are heartless, they are destructive. They must be defeated.

The Solution: Well, it’s not a COUNTLESS number, but 32,000 able-bodied warriors is nothing to shake a stick at. They have a leader chosen by God Himself. The Israelites are ready to draw the battle lines.

It’s at this time that Gideon, this new leader, this man of God who is clearly seeking the Lord for signs, wisdom, and guidance, announces a…Volunteer "Retirement" Incentive? It is entirely optional, but anyone who wants to do so may leave. What? What on earth is Gideon doing? Maybe not too many people will leave. But… more than 1/3 of the army takes the offer! Ten thousand men are left to fight. That’s a very countable number, even if you only have parchment and a bowl of ink. It’s crazy. It’s unorthodox. But even with so few, maybe the Israelites will yet survive.

Wait, it’s not over. Not only does God not want Gideon to rely on sheer numbers, He does not want Gideon to rely on…logic? Seriously. Who chooses an army by their table manners? God did not choose His army by skill or experience. He chose by…ability to lap water like a dog? Are you kidding me? Apparently Israelites had very good upbringing because out of 10,000 men, only 300 had bad manners.

Now 300 men are preparing to fight a countless number of warriors. These men can’t even drink properly. Not only that, they are left to carry their packs and the packs of 9,700 other men (Judges 7:8). That means each man had to carry the provisions of 33 men. The KJV says “victuals” instead of “provisions” and the Hebrew equivalent is “meat”. So food.

The other thing they had to carry for the 9,700 who were “invited to go find a new job” were their weapons… right? They were going to war after all. Surely 33 extra swords per warrior would come in handy. No, not weapons. Their trumpets. Really? If I were one of the 300 lap-like-a-dog Israelites getting ready to go fight a swarm of nasty enemies, I might take the extra meat, but I’m certainly not gonna sling 33 extra trumpets over my shoulder and run to the battle line. But Scripture clearly mentions that the men took over the extra food and trumpets. Why trumpets? Because God had a plan and He was still in control.

Now everyone is a little perturbed at Gideon (ok, I’m reading into the story, but wouldn’t you be perturbed?) and in the middle of the night Gideon gets honest with himself and God. He’s scared. How do we know? Because God tells him, “If you are afraid to attack, go down to the camp with your servant Purah and listen to what they are saying.” (7:10-11). And Gideon does it. So he must have been afraid.

God encourages him that night. But perhaps not right away. The first thing Gideon sees as he makes his way into the valley of the enemy is that the enemy is bigger than he originally thought. They are described in number as “sands on the seashore”. And that was just their camels y’all. The warriors themselves were “thick as locusts.” Yuk. And Yikes.

But as he gets within earshot, he hears one warrior tell another warrior about a wacked out dream that he had. A loaf of bread knocked a tent over. A loaf of bread. One tent. Indigestion perhaps? One too many slices of garlic bread the night before? No. His friend doesn’t think so. His friend pronounces, “This can only mean the entire army will be destroyed!!!” Or something similar to that. Definitely in a dramatic doomsday voice. Gideon realizes that God whom he serves is already at work.

What does Gideon do? He worships God.

Out of the gracious encouragement he receives from his communion with God, Gideon wakes his army (it doesn’t take long, there’s only 300 of them) and casts vision.

It gets crazier y’all.

Now Gideon orders them to divide into three groups. They are looking at each other and thinking, is he kidding? The best chance we have is to at least stay together. Safety in numbers, right? What are three measly groups of a hundred against the biggest enemy in the world?

Gideon is unfazed. He goes to each group and hands out their weapons. Each man gets a torch, an empty jar, and a trumpet. You’ve got to be joking. I can almost hear Gideon say, “No, I’m not joking. Now, do like I do. We’re gonna sneak up to the camp on three different sides. Then on the count of three we are gonna all yell ‘BOO!’”

But I guess guys who drink water from a spring like a dog are also the kind who will try anything, even if it sounds crazy. Or maybe they trusted Gideon that much. Or maybe God had a hold of their hearts so strongly that they were with him heart and soul.

In the end the Israelites won and no one could say it was because of the Israelites themselves that the Midianites were defeated. God was right all along, it was by Him Alone. It should always be that way. Jonathan told his armor-bearer, when facing the Philistines, that “Nothing can hinder the Lord from saving, whether by many or by few.” (1 Samuel 14:6)

The lesson: God is in control. He always has been. Sometimes His ways make sense to us. Sometimes they are way out of our box. But in everything, all the time, no matter what: God is in control. The enemy doesn’t startle Him. We don’t either. Neither do we mess Him up. He can use 32,000 of us, or 300 of us. It’s up to Him.

Isaiah 46:10-11 I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come. I say: My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please. From the east I summon a bird of prey; from a far-off land, a man to fulfill my purpose. What I have said, that will I bring about; what I have planned, that will I do.

The Power of Forgetfulness

The power of forgetfulness...

Take Joshua for example. He led the Israelites to victory in the Promised Land. What wonderful miracles God performed on behalf of His people when, by His mighty hand, He conquered their enemies and gave them a land “flowing with milk and honey.” After Joshua died, a “generation grew up who did not acknowledge the Lord or remember the mighty things He had done for Israel.”

In fact, the Old Testament recounts story after story of the kings of Israel and Judah who left the God of the covenant.

What happened?

They forgot. Forgetfulness is that powerful.

God knew mankind’s tendency to forget. Before His chosen people even entered the Promised Land, God warned them not to forget.

“Impress them (His commandments) on your children.” He said. “Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.”(Deut. 6:7-9; 11:18-20). He commanded them to tell their children about Him and His decrees—to weave the words into their daily lives.

God even predicted that after a few years of comfortable living, they would be tempted to forget the hundreds of years of relying on God for their very existence.

“When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the Lord your God for the good land he has given you. Be careful that you do not forget the Lord your God, failing to observe his commands, his laws and his decrees that I am giving you this day. Otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, then your heart will become proud and you will forget the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.” Deuteronomy 8:10-14

One generation. Boom. The covenant was broken.

What happened?

Parents forgot to tell their children.

When parents forgot to tell their children the mighty works of God, they themselves forgot what He had done for them.

When God’s people forgot what He had done for them, they stopped obeying Him. They turned to other things for their security. They forgot to obey.

When they forgot to obey God, they forgot to look to Him when faced with troubles.

Generations of forgetfulness passed and by the time Jesus walked among the people of God, they had no anchor, no direction. God’s people had forgotten so many things and replaced God in so many ways.

No wonder Jesus had compassion on the people. “They were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” (Matthew 9:36; Mark 6:34)

Is it the same for you and me today? Of course! We have that same forgetful tendency that the Israelites had.

Take me for example. Right now I live in an easy place. I live on a tropical island with all the culture and quaintness I could want, but with the medical care and modern facilities practically at my fingertips. What’s not to love about the place I live? In seasons like this, it is easy for me to forget those many years of “wilderness days” when God was literally my only hope. Is it wrong to be here? No. So how do I fight forgetfulness? By recounting the mighty works of God.

Remembering is just as powerful as forgetting. When I recount the mighty deeds of God, I remember all He has done for us. When I remember all He has done for us, I want to obey Him. When I obey God, I look only to Him when I face impossible situations.

David, when confronted with problems beyond his ability to conquer, recalled the mighty deeds of God (Psalm 77) and that’s where He found strength.

The same strength is available for us today. We serve a mighty God. Let’s not forget the mighty things He has done. His works are to be shared with next generation. Let’s be the generation that pointed others to God. It only takes one generation to forget. Let’s be the generation that remembers.

Out of the Rut

Sunday Morning Breakfast!

My parents' recent visit reminded me to enjoy the things that are available here that I take for granted. I get stuck in a rut and am appeased by the easy rather than making just a little more effort to enjoy what's at my fingertips. Like tropical fruit. Why be satisfied with lengkeng only when I could enjoy lengkeng AND a few pieces of jackfruit? Or why not take the time to cut up some pomelo and mango?

Because of my parents we found tempe and dried shrimp chips. We discovered a market we hadn't been to before and watched a beach sunset we wouldn't have stopped long enough to enjoy. We played a lot of Scrabble. People should take the time to play a lot of Scrabble. I learned the word bivouac. I am ashamed to say that I didn't know that word. We played corn hole and frisbee and 42. We watched movies and laughed. We ate at the oldest restaurant building in Penang and I learned all about Hainanese food by reading the menu. We met a funny man who runs a Minang restaurant and we got up early to eat breakfast served at a neighborhood food stall. Who knew they served yummy breakfast? I picked out the cake I want for my birthday next May and I learned I could buy nuts at the nearby market from a lady who mistook me for a Chinese. Ha! That's a first.

Sometimes it takes fresh eyes to appreciate what is all around us. I loved living in Penang all along. But I think I love it just a bit more now.

If we take the time to try something new, see something different, consider something out of our usual routine, we just may find a treasure or two, right where we live!

Giving Up

Mak Cik (pronounced "MAHcheek") cooks onions and spices on her dirty stove. She adds meat and stirs. The delicious aroma fills her tiny apartment. There are fifteen people who live with Mak Cik. Every day she has to cook and clean for them. They are her children and grandchildren, but she does not feel any love from them. She feels like they are only taking advantage of her.

Mak Cik wipes a tear from her eye. She misses her husband. He died many years ago and left her with this selfish and argumentative brood of young people. Then there is her son and daughter: the ones that loved her. They are dead now too. She cannot take a job because she must stay home to take care of the babies. If she doesn’t, no one will.

Mak Cik watches the meat sizzle in the pan. Yesterday she received one-hundred dollars from the government. That much money could go a long way in helping Mak Cik feed her family. Perhaps she would even have money left over to buy some clothes. Not many, mind you, but maybe some.

But not this time. Maybe another time. This time Mak Cik spent the money the best way she knew how. She bought spices, vegetables, and the best cuts of meat in the market. She spent every penny. And now she cooked it. This was a feast; but not a feast for her family.

No, Mak Cik has given up on her family. She is cooking this meal for the leaders at the local mosque. If she makes them a delicious meal, maybe they will pray to the spirits of her husband and son and daughter. If they remember, they will ask the spirits to help her.

Mak Cik has given up on her living relatives and has given up on praying. Will you pray that Mak Cik will have ears to hear the gospel that is being shared with her? Will you pray that her heart will open to the true love that Jesus Christ has for her? Until Mak Cik can pray as a loved child of God, will you pray?



Photo credit "Nasi Lemak, Mamak, Sydney" by Mw12310 - Own work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons.

A Cactus Kind of Day

It was a cactus sort of day. Or maybe I was the cactus. Admittedly, I was a little prickly. Kris was gone so I was running the house alone. It was a wreck. We were running late for school. I missed the turn to pick up someone who needed a ride. An unnamed individual bumped the gear shift and our car went into neutral while speeding down the road without me realizing what the problem was. You know, one of those kind of mornings.

And for whatever reason, I'd woken up with a foreboding feeling. I had Psalm 42:11 on my mind from the time I rolled out of bed. It's my standard "foreboding feeling" verse.

"Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet raise him, my Savior and my God."

Really, what do I have to be downcast about? When my soul is disturbed, I know deep down that I really have everything. A Savior, the Lord of All. What else do I need?

But I still felt down. And then, after the craziness of getting everyone to school semi-on-time I felt rushed and down. I pulled into the carport and something to the side caught my eye.

It was my cactus.

I say "my cactus" but it was really a flower pot that was left from the previous tenant, about 1 1/2 years ago. I wanted the pot but not the plant. It was an ugly cactus. Bulbs of prickly. All crammed into a flower pot. I didn't want the cactus, but I just never got around to digging it out. I never got around to it because I do not have a green thumb. Which explains why the cactus has outlasted most of the other potted plants I own. It doesn't need that much care.

But what caught my eye was not the cactus itself. Didn't I mention that it was ugly? What caught my eye was two BIG white flowers protruding from the needly plant. How on earth did it produce such beautiful flowers? I got out of the car and walked across the cement to check it out.

Sure enough, two flowers shot out of one of the ugly bulbs. They were soft and lacy and smelled fresh, like baby powder. What on earth? It was like a beautiful gift, a reminder from the Lord to keep perspective on Cactus Days. Be the flower, not the cactus!

Why so downcast? Put your hope in God! I will praise Him, my Savior and my God.

Parenthood is Convicting!

This never happens to me of course, but I have this friend...

Let's make up a name for her...uh...him...err...I mean...the person...who is not me...we'll call this person "Kana Jelley".

Well, see, sometimes when her kids don't do what she tells them to (mine always do, I'm just saying that Kana Jelley's don't always do that), they look at her and say, "I love you Mom!"

Do yours ever do that? I know. Mine don't either. But Kana Jelley's do.

(Have you ever seen actual steam come from someone's ears?)

Isn't that the most irritating thing ever? Wouldn't you just want to scream "If you LOVED me you would DO WHAT I SAID TO DO."

I mean...if you were the kind of mom that screamed at your kids.

And when I am tempted to do that, I am reminded of my Heavenly Father. Didn't He say just that? He was much nicer, but Jesus said to His disciples, "If you love me, keep my commands" John 14:15.

Ouch.

Sometimes I just stand there and say, "I love You God!"

You know: stand in church and sing a praise song to the Lord while feeling bitterness take root in my heart, or think a judgmental thought about what so-and-so is wearing to church (the nerve). Isn't that the same thing? Isn't that standing there and saying "I love You" but not obeying His commands?

Parenthood is convicting y'all.

Well, I mean, for people like Kana Jelley.

Response to News Reports

A couple of weeks ago the New York Times ran a story called “The Jihadist in Our Family.” A family in Asia was interviewed. The father went to Syria to be a martyr. Every day we read news about terrorists, about threats, about foiled plots, and on it goes. World leaders are trying to decide what to do, local authorities struggle to know how best to deal with threats and fears, and the rest of us wonder what to make of it all.

I observe two reactions to terrorism and extremism. First, there is anger. “We should make them as fearful as they make us.” “We should attack them like they attack us.” “We should get them before they get us.” “We should rid the world of them.”

The second reaction that I see is fear. “They are going to get us!” “Where can we be safe?” “All people of that religion are just like them.” “We should not be traveling to or living in places that have terrorists…it’s just too dangerous.”

The next time you see a report about on the news or read it on the internet or in the paper, stop and think for a minute. Which reaction does it evoke in you?

As followers of Jesus, I suggest that there is a third response: a better one. Love. Not gushy, feely love. Who feels gushy love after a news report about a terrorist attack? No one! That’s not what I am suggesting. I am talking about Gospel love. I am talking about the love that compels us to share with the lost. Lost people are just that…they are lost…even if they don’t know it. My unbelieving neighbor is lost. The jihadist in my city is lost. Neither one of them have experienced the freedom of forgiveness through Jesus.

So how do we respond in love? Well, that’s for you to figure out. But instead of a “Rain fire from heaven and get ‘em” prayer, or a “Please protect me from ‘em” prayer, may I suggest a “How can I be a conduit for the Gospel?” prayer. Try it, and open your ears and eyes to the creative work of God. Resolve to obey what you hear Him telling you to do. What will your response be?

Soccer and the Good News

Almost every week I visit a temporary housing neighborhood with a partner. We pray for the people there and often get to share stories, including The Best Story. Last week I met a young boy. He enjoyed practicing some English and was also surprised that I could speak his language.

"Where do your children go to school?"

I told him.

"Yes, I know. They come to my school sometimes."

"Oh really?" My oldest son volunteers at a local school. He has helped play games, teach songs, and practice English with the students. They are all of the majority religion here. "My son's name is A."

"Yes, I know him."

"Really?" I was doubtful.

"Yes, does he speak our language?"

"Well, yes he does speak a little."

"Yes," said the boy. "I know him."

Wow, there I was in a poor neighborhood with people I was only meeting for the first time. Actually my son has met their children. Little did I know that my own child was touching this neighborhood long before I arrived.

God is good! I went home excited to tell my son that he had a part in the spreading of the Good News to this neighborhood. Sure, he was teaching English and kicking the soccer ball. But his presence made an impact on this boy. And the people in this boy's neighborhood are getting exposed to The Best Story. Maybe they will be more receptive now that they know we care about their kids too.

There are a lot of ways kids can help spread Good News. What are your ideas?

When Horizontal is Vertical

You know the story. There are two brothers.

The older one works hard. He's strong, he's tan, he probably wore the world's first overalls. Cain, the successful farmer. He's a man's man y'all.

The younger son sits around a lot. Sure he walks a bit, and flicks a stick around. He sits in the shade. He plays the world's first harp because it's boring to sit in the shade all day. He's Abel the able shepherd.

One day Cain decides to give God an offering. I mean, since God created all of his harvest anyway, why not give Him some of it. Abel decides to do the same thing.

Both of these guys give God an offering but only one of them is accepted. Do you remember who?

Abel's offering is accepted and Big Brother Cain's is not. That really chaps Cain's hide. This is not ok with Cain.

God speaks to Cain. God warns Cain that his heart is not right. God even gives Cain a pep talk. Cain does not listen.

Cain let's his own personal problem with God rupture his relationship with Abel. He must have become obsessed by his anger toward Abel. Finally, Cain actually kills Abel, his only brother.

God punished Cain for the murder of his brother. The story in Genesis 4 documents Cain's response, which borders on the absurd. He says that his punishment (for MURDER mind you) is too much for him to bear. I am amazed at God's patience with Cain.

When I read the story of Cain and Abel, this is what strikes me: our broken relationships with others often are the result of our strained relationship with God.

When we hit a rough spot in a friendship, are we quick to inspect our own hearts and our own relationship with God? Or are we quick to blame or compare or get angry?

This week I am thinking a lot about this. When my horizontal relationships (with friends and family) are suffering, it is mostly likely because my vertical relationship (with God) needs some attention.

What do you think?

FGM = Love?

Female circumcision is radical and unimaginable to most of my friends in the West. To most of my friends in North Africa, it is a normal part of life. Today I read an interesting article (FGM - An Act of Love) that sheds light on the thinking of those who circumcise their daughters.

I've written about FGM/C (Female Genital Mutilation/Cutting) in my upcoming novel Side By Side. The experiences in the book come from the true stories of young women who have undergone this practice.

As women, we should know at least a little about what more than 125 million women and girls in our world today are going through. You can read more about what FGM/C is here (this is just a fact sheet, there are no graphics, although the facts are heart-wrenching all on their own.)

It would be easy to become overwhelmed by the traumatic stories of women who have undergone FGM/C. It would be easy to become angry at those who perpetuate the practice. But I propose that the more one learns about a culture, the more difficult it is to find a black and white answer.

As mentioned in the article, "Whether we like it or not, female genital cutting is an act of love." I'm not saying that I agree that this is a healthy train of thought, I'm just saying it's worth the time to stop. Stop. Take a breath. And remember that not everyone thinks like we do.

I sat in a room in North Africa, the only white woman in a sea of dark-skinned villagers. We were attending a government-sponsored program designed to put a stop to FGM/C and tribal scarring. Most of my friends had undergone both.

The women squeeled and hid their faces when the program leaders showed us a film of a three-year-old girl being circumcised and scarred. It was gruesome and heart-breaking. But I knew that my friends who were moms would still go home and schedule an appointment for their daughters to be circumcised.

As a Westerner, I'd say it's fairly easy to form a strong opinion about FGM/C. It's well-documented as a harmful practice. I'm grateful for organizations (both local and international) that work diligently to educate and inform regarding FGM/C. It is hard for me to understand why this practice continues.

But let's bring it closer to home...

What practices do we have in our own cultures that are unhealthy or harmful, but that we guard carefully because to change it would be to go against a deeply embedded cultural norm? Perhaps you can't think of anything as huge or problematic as FGM/C, but I believe we still have unhealthy cultural norms that we do just...because. Because "that's how it's always been done," and because, "that's how everyone does it."

Some women in communities that have practiced FGM/C for centuries are taking a stand. Are you brave enough to take a stand against the unhealthy norms in your own culture? Am I?

It's worth some thought.

10 Life Hacks for Third-World Livin' (from Back in the Day)

Life Hacks would have meant a serial killer holding a machete back when my husband and I first went overseas. Nowadays it means: cool tricks to make life easier.

I didn't have Google or Pinterest or blogs to read back then. I had a Lonely Planet book about our new country in one hand and a copy of Where There Is No Doctor in the other. The rest we just had to figure out along the way.

Because there was nowhere to share my tricks of the trade, most of them have faded into the "I Don't Need That Anymore" corners of my memory. So before I lose every one of them, I thought I'd write them down. And since nowadays I have a blog (we went overseas before internet y'all!) I can share my Life Hacks with you! Now, keep in mind these may be old school...but sometimes old school is cool, right?

1. If you don't have running water, drain your laundry water (from hand-washing or hand-filling your washing machine) into a container (tub, bucket, etc) and use it to flush your toilet. Saves on water and your toilet gets washed with laundry detergent!

2. If your electricity goes out all the time and you want cold water to drink during the day: Buy a large water thermos. Buy a bowl that is big, but small enough to fit into the thermos. Every evening fill the bowl with water and freeze (if you have electricity at night). In the morning, dump the ice into your thermos and fill it with water. Don't forget to refill your bowl and put it back in the freezer for tomorrow. All day long you'll have cold water to drink without opening your fridge and losing the precious cold. We did this for years in Africa.

3. Toothpaste works to ease itchy mosquito bites. Just dab it on every one of them. You can easily count them as you go so that you know how many there are for your next blog or Facebook status. You smell minty fresh, but lint also sticks to your skin. Up to you.

4. If you don't know what you are doing for dinner, but it's time and your hubby and kids are getting hungry, saute some onions. Makes the kitchen smell like you know what you are doing and buys you a little time. (I got this idea from my mom!)

5. If you live in a super hot and dry climate, do these things to keep relatively cool:

*Get your head and hair wet and don't dry off. I know people who just left their clothes on and got fully wet and then walked around the house like that. The water cooled them off and since we lived in the desert, it didn't actually take very long to dry!
*Get towels wet and lay them on your floor at night. If you don't have AC but you do have a ceiling fan, the wet towels will cool the room off a bit.
*Wear cotton undershirts or tank tops under your clothes. If you are living in a country where you have to dress conservatively, this seems counter-intuitive. But my friends and I discovered that tank tops collect your sweat and #1 keep your outer clothes from stinking and #2 used your sweat to cool you off.

6. Keep a container in your freezer and put the "final" leftovers in it, no matter how small. When the container is full you can make soup. Dump the frozen stuff into a pot and add whatever you feel might be missing (water, stock, a can of veggies (or fresh ones if you don't have cans), a taco mix, some spices, some pasta, rice, etc.) My family doesn't realize that's what I do and almost every time they say, "Wow, this soup is really good!" It's better if it cooks a long time in the crockpot. Honestly, my family usually likes it even better the second time around. I call it "Hearty Soup" like my mom does!

7. Here's a truly old-school tip. Back in the day our only communication back home was through letters. It did not cost any more in postage to add one Koolaide packet or one ziploc bag. Since both were hard (uh...impossible) to come by, we had our friends and family stick one or the other in every letter. It was like getting a double treat every time!

8. Learn how to breathe through your mouth and not your nose. If you live in a Third-World country, chances are you are gonna smell pee, poop, blood, sewer, fish, carcasses, spoiled garbage, and durian. It's nicer for those in whose country you are a guest if you don't wrinkle your nose and pass out or gag every time your nose is offended. I also try not to think about the fact that my mouth is still taking in all those smelly germs without the advantage of nose hair filters. So breathe through  your mouth and distract your mind and you'll be fine!

9. If you happen to stay at a nice hotel that supplies shower caps, save them. They are handy for covering food dishes, like plastic wrap...only free. I wash and reuse until they are kind of gross and then throw them away.

10. Weavels and unsavory critters like that will leave your flour, cereals, rice, and other grains if you spread it out in the sun (on a woven mat or large tray). Stale cereal and chips crisp back up in an oven set at low. Don't through away that stuff!









If you live in a third-world country, in the boonies, or if you live somewhere else, what tips have you learned for every day life?

Instead of the Thorn Bush

There weren't many trees in Eritrea. The government of the newly liberated country in East Africa had recently installed afforestation projects to plant new trees where previously there were none. But they were still saplings. Since most Eritreans cooked over wood fueled fires, trees were a precious commodity.

Come Christmas season, I had a problem. I wanted a Christmas tree, but there were none to be found. We finally decided to cut down the thorn bush in the front "yard" of our house. We wedged its stick-like trunk into a bucket of rocks and hung tiny ornaments sent by my sister-in-law. I was so proud of our Christmas tree!

We spent 2 1/2 challenging and wonderful years in Eritrea. I believe that we lived there during the best time in its history. We heard amazing stories from our friends who fought for independence. We saw joy and hope in the eyes of everyone who walked freely down the streets in the evenings when once they hid from MiGs flying overhead. Life was simple and happy for Eritreans. The nightmares of war faded and the dreams of a promising future grew more vivid.

Little did we know that only a few months of peace remained when we departed our little African home and returned to the USA. Before long we received news of fresh fighting. Within a few years we received news of our friends being imprisoned, tortured, killed. Churches went underground as persecution intensified. Unrest came both from within and from outside. Our hearts broke every time we heard a new report.

But God is sovereign and He is in control. This morning I read Isaiah 55 and I found a little phrase tucked away amid promises that God's ways are not our ways. Verse 13 says, "Instead of the thornbush will grow the pine tree".

How pleased I was with our thorn bush that Christmas we spent in Eritrea! But when I think of Eritrea nowadays, my heart is heavy. Figuratively speaking, even the thorn bushes are stripped away. But God is in control and one day (figuratively speaking) He will fill its landscape with pine trees!

I find hope in Hebrews 2:8,9a "In putting everything under him (Jesus), God left nothing that is not subject to him. Yet at present we do not see everything subject to him. But we see Jesus..."

Today I see the thornbush. I smell dirt. I feel the prick of the brier. It is ugly.

But when I look at God's people in Eritrea...I see green. I smell the scent of the fir. I see fresh. I see life. I see hope. I see pine trees.

One day, instead of the thorn bush will grow the pine tree.

One day...

Crying Baby

My baby on the shore of the Nile River.

When our kids were small, I sometimes felt that my young ones took me away from ministry. That’s simply not true.  I remember one day my family was visiting in the home of an African family. One of our sons, who was a baby at the time, began to cry and I was forced to leave the room and stand outside. I began singing to comfort him. But in my heart I was so frustrated. If I didn’t have young children to take care of, I could be in the house sharing Jesus with that family. 

I continued to sing, I was singing the Lord’s Prayer in the local language. As I finished the song I noticed the mother had stepped outside and was listening to me. She asked me about the song I sang and I told her the story of when Jesus’ followers asked Him how they were to pray to God. It was such a sweet time. But you know, it never would have happened if I had not been outside comforting my crying baby. 

Grasping

I went to Tesco today to buy groceries and a few items that we've been needing for the house. It turned out to be one of those BIG shopping trips with a few "more than normal" expenses. While waiting in line to check out, I noticed a group of ladies in line behind me. They were looking at and discussing my shopping selections. This used to happen all the time when I lived in a city with few foreigners, but now I live in a big city and it doesn't happen often. This not happening often is good, as far as I'm concerned, because I really don't like other people to look at all the stuff in my basket, talking to each other about how MUCH that foreigner is buying.

I smiled nicely at them as I unloaded all the items onto the conveyor belt thingy. The ladies smiled at me and whispered to each other. Then one of the ladies scootched over right next to me and spoke to the cashier. Continuing to scan my stuff, the cashier asked if I had a Tesco card. Why yes I do. How nice of those ladies to remind the cashier to ask me for my card. I stopped unloading my cart and reached in my purse for my card to give to her so she could scan it.

As I returned the card to my pocketbook and continued unloading, I realized what was going on. Those ladies weren't reminding the cashier to scan my card. They were asking if she would scan their card so they could get my points!

I looked back at them. They were still gawking at my stuff. When I had bagged all the groceries and was ready to pay, one of the ladies positioned herself right beside me so she could see the amount that popped up on the cash register.

I wanted to say, "NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!"

Why does this bother me so much? True, it's none of their business, but why do I fight so much to keep my supposed "right-to-privacy"? Am I willing to forego that "right" in order to live among a people who live life so much more in community than I am comfortable with? Obviously I am willing because...well...here I am. But am I willing to forego that "right" with the attitude of Christ who "being in very nature God did not consider (even) equality with God something to be grasped"?

The Lord has been bringing up that passage to me lately (Philippians 2:4-11) in relation to things I am tempted to grasp. Jesus was in very nature God, but He did not grasp it. He was willing to make Himself nothing for our sake.

I am blessed with so much. Do I grasp those blessings or am I willing to hold them with open hands so that I can give them up if the Lord asks me to?

What are you tempted to grasp?

I Walk a Path

I am walking on a path. It is beautiful. Birds are chirping, leaves are rustling in the trees, the blue sky peeks through the foliage, and the sun grins its approval from behind a fluffy white cloud. This is my path. It was meant for me and I was meant for it.

Joy, pure joy.

Through the trees, I catch a movement in my peripheral. It is another sojourner on a path, headed somewhere. I glance toward them. I smile and nod. We know each other. Not personally. We know about each other. We are both travelers, following a path, taking pleasure in the journey.

I take my eyes off of my own quest to catch a glimpse of the other path. It appears to be just a smidgen smoother because I notice that the other person is making more progress than I. Perhaps my path has a steeper incline. I’ve had to work harder to go the distance I have gone.

I am probably in better shape.

I put one foot in front of the other, I turn when my path turns, I am careful to avoid roots and rocks. There are a lot of roots and rocks, I notice. I must stay focused. I can only glance for a second at the sister-path. It does not have so many obstacles. I wonder if my fellow traveler sees me stumble.

There is skill in staying the course. I have been faithful to do just that. There is also skill in choosing the path. Did I choose the right one? I strain my eyes to look ahead, though I know I should be watching the ground in front of me. My path is headed in the right direction. I’ve always known that.

I think it is.

Is that a turn up ahead? My senses tell me I should continue to go straight, but I see that my path will be veering off a bit. That can’t be right. I glance at the other traveler…my rival…who is now ahead of me. It is easy to see their path because the sun smiles more on that path than on mine. It continues to go straight. I wonder: can I cut through the trees and get on that path?

Now I’m running, but I trip and stumble on pebbles and twigs. I’m awkward and I know that I must look silly. The air is stifling. The birds mock me. The leaves overhead scratch against each other, each is vying for a chance to hide the sun from me. The clouds loom overhead and cackle at me.

This is not the way I want it. I want the other path—or even a new one all-together.

I trip and fall, but this time I don’t get up. I just sit. I sit in the dirt. My knee is bleeding. I don’t even care. But really I do. My enemy is so far ahead now that I cannot see them anymore. And in the quiet…the quiet because I’m alone…I hear a voice…a voice because I’m not alone.

I never was.

“Run the race marked out for you.”

“Why?”

“Because it was meant for you and you were meant for it.”

I look through the trees at the other path. I don’t know anything about it. Maybe it is straight and smooth all the way…but maybe it’s not. What I do know is that it was not made for me. It is not for me to take it. I look at my own path. It’s a little crooked. A winding path is more exciting anyway. I think I like it.

I think I’ll stay.

Who knows what I’ll find when my path veers up ahead. I won’t worry about it right now.

I will trust the One who marked the path for me.

And in that trust, I’ll find joy.