Responses

As I was reading the Christmas stories this year, I was struck by how people responded to unreal news.  When Joseph found out that his fiancee was pregnant, and he knew the Child wasn't his, he was probably hurt... and justifiably so.  When the people in Nazareth heard that Eli's teenage daughter was pregnant, they probably judged her... much like we do today.  The Magi felt compelled to follow a star, for reasons we don't know, and were obedient to that compulsion.  And the shepherds, well, the shepherds were filled with excitement and curiosity.

Two responses, though, were remarkably similar and yet vastly different.

Zacharias and Elizabeth were old... too old to have any hope for children.  Zacharias trusted God.  He believed.  And yet, when the angel appeared to Zacharias and told him that Elizabeth would have a son, his first words were "Do you expect me to believe this?  I'm an old man and and my wife is an old woman."  (Luke 1:18, The Message)  Zacharias, even though he knew God was trustworthy, had seen Him work in his life, couldn't bring himself to believe unbelievable news.  And he paid for his unbelief with nine months of silence.

And then there's Mary... sweet Mary.  She wasn't stupid.  She knew where babies came from.  And she knew that, in her life, there were a couple of things missing.  But when the angel came to her, told her that she too would have an unlikely Child, her response wasn't "That's not possible."  She didn't ask "Who are you trying to fool?"  She had questions.  She was uncertain.  She asked the angel, "But how can this happen?  I am a virgin!"  But she didn't argue.  Even though she didn't understand what the angel was telling her, she accepted it as Truth.  

How many times have I tried to argue when the Holy Spirit spoke to me?  How often to I try to talk Him out of His plan by telling Him that it just doesn't make sense?  Why can't I simply trust Him that He has a plan, that His ways are higher, that there are some things that I just can't understand?  How many more chances will I get before I too am stricken with silence?

Rediscovering Bebo

Ever listened to an artist you haven't heard in a while and wonder, "Why did I stop listening to this?"  I've been a fan of Bebo Norman's for a while, but he's sort of fallen off my radar in the past couple of years.  Yesterday I pulled up Bebo on my iPod, just for random driving music while I was running some errands, and was reminded of why I loved his music so much.    I love the theology in his lyrics.  I love the vulnerability, the reality... I think he's been reading my blog... oh, wait, he wrote those songs years ago.  How did that happen?

I loved the blast-from-the-past of listening to all the old music, but one song really got me.  And it's not surprising, because it always got me, but somehow it seemed more appropriate yesterday than it ever has before.  In this new season of life that I'm in, where I'm learning (again!) that my dreams for my life and the dreams my Father has for my life don't necessarily line up, He's teaching me to die.  And as I've been reminded several times recently, dying is painful.  Sacrifice is painful.  Surrender is painful.  But they are oh, so necessary.  

So dream a little dream for me in hopes that I'll remain

And cry a little cry for me so I can bear the flames

Hurt a little hurt for me, my future is untold

But my dreams are not the issue here

For they, the hammer holds

              "The Hammer Holds"

Day after Christmas

Yesterday I went to Haywood Mall. (And the Shops at Greenridge too, but I won't get into that... it will only stir up bitterness!)  It's been a while since I've been to Haywood, and I usually try to stay away from shopping on the days after Christmas and Thanksgiving... it's just too much chaos, too much conflict when I'm trying to keep my heart peaceful.  But I had several things to return and needed to buy some jeans (I literally wore my favorite pair out!), and time is short this year, so off I went.

I expected the traffic.  Didn't enjoy it, but expected it.  I expected to play hide-and-seek for a parking spot.  Again, didn't enjoy it, but expected it.  But I was totally unprepared for what I ran into once I actually got into the mall.

It was FULL of people.  I really don't think I've EVER seen it as full as it was yesterday.  And they all had loads of bags, had obviously been spending a LOT of money.  And then it hit me.

My people.  My sweet, simple Lugbara people who live in a town of 60,000 at most, where you're lucky if you have electricity for the majority of the day.  If I brought them here, to Haywood Mall, where Americans spent more money in one day than they see in a year, what would they think?  How would they respond?  Would the be overwhelmed by the importance we place on things that are so artificial?  Would they be hurt, that we spend so much money on comfort when the same amount of money in Arua could change lives?

I don't have any answers.  All I know is, the way I think has changed.  I'm still American, and I still have the American mentality of my rights and my stuff.  But at least I'm conscious of it.  

Leaving my Scarecrows

I'm not a movie buff.  Don't get me wrong-- I like movies.  But I'm not the kind of person who goes around dropping quotes or making comparisons between movies and real life.  It's just not who I am... until today. (Get ready-- this might get sappy.)

As I've spent the past couple of days preparing to leave ILC, my heart has literally hurt.  I've been trying to brace myself and get ready, but it's not really working out all that well for me.  The last 2 months have been beyond description.  We have received training for almost every aspect of life overseas you could imagine, and probably some you would never dream of.  But by far, the best part of Field Personnel Orientation has been the fast friendships, the brother- and sister-friends, the people you instantly connected with on a heart-level.  And leaving these precious friends has been the part of this week I've been dreading.

In the middle of pondering these goodbyes today (okay, so I'm dwelling on it!), I was reminded of The Wizard of Oz, in the scene where Dorothy is getting ready to leave Oz and is saying her goodbyes.  You can feel it building as she says goodbye to TinMan and the Cowardly Lion, but then she gets to the Scarecrow.  She all but falls apart when she tells him, "I'm going to miss you most of all."

Right now I'm Dorothy.  There have been over 300 people that I've come in contact with on a daily basis for the last 2 months.  I will miss them all, because they've all become a part of my life.  But there are 3 very special friends who are my scarecrows.  I've told all but one of them goodbye, and I really don't know when I'll see them again.  My heart hurts... I will miss them most of all.

Give Lottie some love!

As we approach Chirstmas, I want to take a few minutes to remind people of something that, honestly, I didn't really think about until I came on staff with the IMB.  Growing up, Christmas season was Lottie Moon season.  My church growing up was all about Lottie, and put a strong emphasis on the Lottie Moon Christmas Offering.  Over the past several years, it seems like Lottie has been a little forgotten (maybe that's just my perspective).  

Lottie Moon is an encouraging example of what it means to be a "living sacrifice".  She was one of the first single women to enter the mission field; for 37 years this pioneer endured hardship and danger in a land oppressed by famine, disease, and war.  In the end, she loved the Chinese people more than life itself, giving her own food to starving neighbors, eventually dying of starvation herself.  During her career, Lottie wrote numerous letters home encouraging Southern Baptists to greater missions involvement and support.  In one of her letters, she wrote, "How many there are who imagine that because Jesus paid it all, they need pay nothing, forgetting that the prime object of their salvation was that they should follow in the footsteps of Jesus Christ in bringing back a lost world to God."

Over the past couple of months, I have come to understand just how important the Lottie Moon Offering really is.  LMCO accounts for over half of the IMB's annual operating budget, and every penny goes directly to the field.  Even if you're not "Southern Baptist," let me encourage you to look into Lottie as a way of financially supporting the spread of the Gospel.  Thank you for your continued partnership as we work to bring the Lugbara people to faith in our Lord and Savior.  

Faith like a child

Every now and then, it becomes very clear what the phrase "faith like a child" really means.  Last night our cultural worship focus was South Asia (a region made up of 7 countries around India, for those of you who don't speak IMBese!).  One of the components was corporate prayer in a way I had never seen before.  As people shared their prayer requests, members of the congregation would gather around them at the front of the meeting room and pray with them then and there.  What stood out more than anything was our little girls.  When one of them would share a request, they could barely get it all out before the rest of the girls would literally run to them to join them in prayer.  How often do I really run to people to pray for them?  And when I do pray for them, do I really believe that God is going to move in a mighty way?  God, give me the faith to join my friends in prayer the way these children do!

Shootout at Red Robin

Last week was, without question, the most stressful week we've had.  We had three days of meeting with our regional leadership (Central, Eastern, and Southern Africa for me), which was mostly long days of meetings... lots of presentations, lots of listening, very little moving around.  (Until that point in the afternoon when everyone gets antsy and tired of sitting still and starts shifting in their chairs every 30 seconds!)  Suffice it to say that they were 3 very long days.

On Thursday, we started 3 days of Contingency training... affectionately known as "Torture". Representatives from an independent company came to teach us principles of how to survive and endure detention and captivity situations, ranging from detainment at the airport, being taken hostage, dealing with reporters and negotiations, how to detect surveillance, and even how to possibly escape from captivity.  After they taught us various principles, we began "stress inoculation"...  basically, they took people or groups out and simulated actual hostage and detention situations.  As one of the first hostages taken, I can attest that it was real stress... the thought that "This is just pretend" really didn't cross my mind!

All in all, the week was VERY beneficial, and I wouldn't trade it for anything, but believe me when I say that everyone was a little on-edge at the end of our last session on Saturday.  We all needed to just get away from campus Saturday night, so 6 of us decided to go to Red Robin for some good burgers and great fries.  We had a great meal, great conversation, and lots of laughter.  We had finished our meal, paid the check, and were getting ready to go when we heard what sounded like gunfire.  In a split-second, we all exchanged looks and honestly considered either falling into the aisle or diving under the table.  Evidently, the food, conversation, laughter, and falling snow hadn't been enough to relax us from contingency training, because a popped balloon almost put 6 adults on the floor!