Muddled Thoughts

Somehow blogging was easier when no one was reading it :) And I suppose that may be the case now, since so much time has passed since my last post. But I know I need to keep this thing going. It's just that...I'm not so sure I want to share some stuff that I think about. What if you don't like it? What if you think I am way out of line?

But the other day I shared an idea with my son and he practically made me promise to write it down and post it. I say he practically did...I still haven't done it yet, but that's not to mean I won't. I got to work up to it.

I've taken a small break from writing just about anything. Why? Life is a little crazy at the moment. A couple of years ago I'd look at the parents of high school seniors and wonder what the fuss was all about. What did they mean that having a senior made life crazy at the end of the year?

Now I have a senior. And life is crazy. Now I get it.

I'm working on a Tshirt quilt for him. Memories displayed in Tshirts all the way from middle school days. Yes, I kept them and carted them around through three moves to three different islands. It is coming along well and I am already eyeing the Tshirts of my younger sons. They come downstairs after changing out of their school uniforms and I look at them and think, "Oh, that will be great on their senior quilt!"

I've got to clear my desk off though, so I can put my sewing machine on it to sew it all together. I remember that there was once a desk...I'm hoping it's still there, under all the junk that I piled on it just days after cleaning it off and telling myself "this looks so great, I'll never junk up my desk again." This time, if I find my desk, I'll keep it clean. I promise.

And speaking of promises, I need to write that post my son told me I should write.

But first things first. I gotta finish his quilt.

Having a senior in the house is crazy at the end of the school year.

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.

Will I See Her In Heaven?

Hanaan* fanned the flame of her charcoal stove with one hand and with the other she skillfully lifted the clay pot just as the coffee began to boil up through the narrow spout. 

“You must let it boil over three times before you serve the coffee,” she explained. 

Hanaan was one of my closest friends in Eritrea.  She and I were as different as two women could be. I was in my early twenties and she didn’t even know her age. I was married and she was well past marrying age and would be single all her life. I was free to make choices, she lived under the rule of her older brother. I believed in Christ with all my heart and by my own choice, Hanaan was born into the religion of her family and was bound by intense family pressure.

Hanaan and her brothers and sisters were all unmarried and all lived together in a two room house. Their kitchen was a dilapidated shack in the dirt courtyard. They lived most of their lives as refugees in a neighboring country and told us fascinating stories of having to escape in the night and travel many days on camel. 

We shared several times about Christ with Hanaan and her family. Hanaan was usually quite busy cooking and working in the house, but on the night we shared God’s full plan of salvation, she brought her portable tin stove close to where we sat so she could hear while she worked. Several days later the family requested to watch a video about Jesus. We eagerly brought our television and VCR (yes, this was before DVDs!) to their house to show them the film.

One day Hanaan and I went to the vegetable market together. Walking along the street, away from the ears of her family, Hanaan began to talk about Jesus. “Jesus is a very good man,” she said. “Jesus loved the poor people very much, didn’t He?”  I agreed wholeheartedly and began to pray in my heart for Hanaan. We walked in silence for a while and then she said, “Jesus is the Son of God.”

That day is forever seared in my memory. This young woman had dared to believe that Jesus is indeed the Son of God.  I have asked God a thousand times, “Does that count, God? Does that make Hanaan a true believer?” 

About a year later Hanaan got a splinter in her hand. She tried to use a needle to remove it, but didn’t know how to keep the wound clean. Soon, infection set in and within a week Hanaan was dead. We had returned to the United States by then, and received this news by email.

Why hadn’t I shared with Hanaan more? Why hadn’t I continued that conversation we had on the street that day? Why hadn’t I been there to help her clean the wound on her hand? And my biggest question: when I arrive in heaven, will I see Hanaan there?

*Name changed

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!

A Conversation on Hell

MK strained to hear E over the din of noise in the house.

"So we both agree that everyone sins. What do you do about the sin in your life?" E asked.

"I try to do good things to outweigh the bad things I do," MK replied.

"Oh, like a scale?"

"Yes, at the end of our life, there will be a scale. You know, for every sin we commit, we will have to go to Hell for 70 years."

"Wow, that's a lot of years for just one sin. And I heard that you believe that the fire of Hell is ten times hotter than earthly fire."

"Imagine! You know how your hand hurts if it is burned in the fire. You put medicine on it and you take care of it, but it still hurts, it's all you can think about. Imagine what Hell's fire will be! Plus, God makes it hotter every year." MK leaned forward to emphasize her thoughts, "It's good for us to think about this every day."

"But MK, even if we sin just one time a day...and you know we do more than that...that is 365 sins a year. Multiply that by the years of our life..." E shook her head..."It's so many sins."

"I watched a TV show once that said we only needed to do three things. First, we must not fight with our family. Second, we must honor our parents. Third, we must be kind to others. Then we can go to heaven."

"Do you do these three things?"

MK looked around at her family and shook her head. "No, no one can."

"You know," E replied, "I used to believe like you...that I had to do enough good things to make up for my sins. But then I discovered that God loves us so much that He made a way for us to be with Him in Heaven. Not because of anything we have done, but because of the way He made for us."

"This is my sister's house," MK said. "You should come to my house where it is more quiet. Some day you can come to my house and we will talk more about this. It will be easier to think when it is quiet."

E smiled. "I'd like that."