FALL

I have one "regular" week left here, then a week of travel with a couple friends, then a few days to get my things in order.

My emotions are so mixed I'm not even able to process them all completely.

Bibiana says that the process of the DTS starts before one goes, and I know that. I know that my recent (and coming) moments of revelation, of tears, of breaking truth, are leading up to the six months I'll spend focusing on God.

With so many questions I'm tempted to say "prove me wrong, God" but today, listening to a 100 Portraits & Waterdeep song, I softened a bit. If I want to be made new, if I want Him to make sense of the questions and the dreams and the realities --of the fact of "almost but not yet" which is the state of the Kingdom of Heaven on earth and of our new life in Christ-- then I have to be open to the work of the Spirit.

Will I let myself fall on the Rock and be broken, or will the Rock have to fall on top of me? If I LET myself fall, there's more chance of putting Humpty Dumpty back together again.*

"Since I am so sick, Since I am in need, Since I have no healing within me:
Oh, my God, be mindful of me...You are my help and my Redeemer.
Unto You, oh Lord, I lift up my soul, In Your loving-kindness I believe.
SURELY THOSE WHO WAIT ON YOU WILL NEVER BE ASHAMED;
ALL OF THOSE WHO FALL ON YOU WILL KNOW THE FAITHFULNESS OF YOUR NAME."
(album: Enter the Worship Circle/ song: Since I am so sick)


*Matthew 21:44
also interesting Matthew 21:28-30 ... which will I be? and you? and, are there only two options?

Funny

Funny things J. has said recently (translated to English):

While eating dinner, he asked, “When I finish can I play a little bit more?”
-No, because you need to get ready and go to bed.
-AGAIN?!

Last Sunday, I borrowed an outfit from Jessica, who is from Laguna Beach, California. The shirt and jean jacket were definitely my style, but I felt unsure about the white jeans (I don’t think I’ve worn colored jeans since fifth grade). I didn’t have anything else I wanted to wear, though, so I kept them on and we walked out the door.
J. saw them and said, “Emily those pants are funny. But only when you wear them.”
I laughed and told him I felt the same way!

Out of nowhere, he comes out with “OH MY GOODNESS!” in great English. We’ve definitely reached a critical point in the bilingual bridge. He repeats things we say all the time, and his pronunciation is pretty good.

Rain

It’s raining for the first time in two months; the kind of slow, steady rain that Mom likes, that the parched ground can actually soak up. I’m making brownies for I’s fourteenth birthday tomorrow and cookie bars for the day after that, when the whole ministry team will be up here at the farm for a workday. Beef stew is simmering for this evening’s meal. Bibiana is on her way back here after being in her home country of Venezuela for a week. Little J. is up the hill playing at another house. The girls here have finally finished their chores, which they started approximately five hours ago, so there’s no more fighting in the house and the peace seeps in around our roots.

Listening to a sermon today, Greg made reference to a time about two years ago when I and a couple of people at that church tried to start up a new ministry, and it flopped. Comparing that with this venture I’ve been on for a year, I can see what he means about God’s gifting and calling and equipping for his work to be done. When we were trying to reach out to the neighborhood around us, I remember feeling mostly frustrated and unsure. Here I feel that I flourish, even when I get aggravated with J. or other situations. A couple of sermons back in the series, he mentioned a missionary who said he knew for sure that God had called him to Uganda when the plane landed there, because keeping him from arriving was the final thing the Lord could’ve done to stop him. But, looking at Greg’s own experience in Uganda, where, as he puts it, he hid in the mud hut reading comic books to escape while his wife made friends with the village women, I think that the arrival is only one part. Flourishing or faltering demonstrates a lot about calling and capacitation.

I’m not saying that I’ve always felt like I’m thriving here. You just need to go back and read entries from March, April, May to see a glimpse of some difficult times I’ve been through. Confronting my dream with the reality of what it means to take care of neglected children in a family-style setting caused winds of doubt and disenchantment. But God knows when to send the rain; the confirmation, the salve to our wounded souls. My parent’s mid-year visit was a two-week long oasis. The early-December vacation with friends was another time to relax and soak up.

In Colombia, when it rains a lot of activities get cancelled. People stay home. They don’t go to their parties, don’t run their errands, they rest and wait.

In February I’m going home for a month, then I’ll head to Chile for my Discipleship Training School. My heart is divided: I want the time with God, the rest time to focus and fall in love with Him, time to hear his voice, to wait for confirmation and direction. But I ache for my foster son, worried that he won’t understand, that he’ll feel abandoned again, worried that I won’t be allowed to keep my promise to return to be with him. I’m jealous for all that will happen here while I’m gone and all that I’ll miss.

But I’m not God. The Lord is J’s father; it is the Lord who takes care of him, whether I get to be His hands or someone else here. And there is so much that I don’t understand, so if what I need is six months of resting, of focusing on God instead of pouring myself into these children, then I will go. I will wait out the long, steady shower.

note

A note on that last post: In a conversation with a friend, we realized that it turns out that struggle I referred to springs from a huge LIE that we both (all) believe too often. That is, "God doesn't bless me. God doesn't want to give me good things." The blessing or good thing we perceive him to be witholding depends, of course, on each person. It's the same thing as in the old Garden of Eden story: "Don't trust him, he's holding out on you!"

New?

New year, same old sin.

I woke up this morning struggling with something that I've dealt with my entire life, since preschool at least! You can change the calendar, but it doesn't change the paradigm we live in.
My journal entry this morning (not the first this year, since I also wrote last night before sleeping):



I realize that this is the same struggle I've had all my life.

I recognize that it exists because of sin; because I was created for intimacy with You but that got broken. That I'm supposed to find my worth and identity in you, but we've been separated and I consistently look to other things or people to define me.

I know these things, but it's still a fight I have to live.

Holy Spirit, come.
Lord Jesus, come.
Loving Father, come.



A Chris Tomlin song that encouraged me this morning, as I strummed my guitar and waited for the answer to that prayer of invitation:

Great is your faithfulness, oh God/ you wrestle with the sinner's heart/ you lead us in the song of our salvation/ and nothing can keep us apart.
So remember your people, remember your children, remember your promise, oh God...
Your grace is enough/ heaven reaching down to us/ your grace is enough for me.
Your grace is enough/ I'm covered in your love/ your grace is enough for me.