SNOW!!!!

I love snow.  Even though I hate the cold (because in South Carolina, cold usually means cold and wet, which is just no fun), I love snow.  Maybe it's because of my snow-deprived childhood.  Maybe it's because snow meant a day off from school.  Maybe it's because Dad stayed home from work, built a fire, and had snowball fights with us.  Maybe it's because Mom made chili, hot chocolate, and snow cream.  Whatever the reason, I love snow.

It's snowed a few times since I've been in Virginia (which is crazy to me, because anything before the middle of January seems ridiculously early for snow!)  Most of the snow we've gotten has just been a few flurries flying-- definitely too warm for anything to stick, but really pretty to see falling, and absolutely enough to make the heart jump a little.

But last night?  Last night it SNOWED.  I don't mean a few scattered little flakes that dissolve before you can stick your tongue out.  I mean shining-in-the-streetlamps, baby-it's-cold-outside, make-hot-chocolate, glad-I'm-not-driving-in-this snow.  How is it that snow brings out the kid in us all?  Why do we sing Christmas carols at the top of our lungs and look for an opportunity to ambush some boys with snowballs?  In all honesty, I really don't know.  But I'm glad for it.

Sadly, the snow was almost gone when I woke up this (cold) morning.  And what hadn't melted blew away during our very windy time in house church.  But can I just say how immensely grateful I am for one more chance to play in the snow before I move to Africa?  God is so good!  :)

Slacker...

Maybe not slacker, but REALLY busy.  And it's sort of sad, because so many things have happened this week that I really wanted to share, but now I'm not even sure what I wanted to tell you about...  but I'll try.  So please bear with me through the next few, short posts... I had great intentions!

Afternoon at the Museum

I love it when God gives you an "aha" moment.  Yesterday all 350 of us went to DC for a ministry field trip... focusing on reaching internationals and getting a better understanding of our people's culture and worldview.  (Sidenote: one of our assignments was to eat lunch at an ethnic restaurant... Ethiopian food is REALLY good, if you can get over eating with your hands out of one huge bowl on the table!)  The group I was with decided to go to the African art museum to try to find some Africans and get some first-hand understanding of their culture.  

While we were in an exhibit with some smaller pieces, I had the opportunity to speak with Simeon, a brother from Trinidad who came to visit some friends for Thanksgiving.  As a believer, he was really frustrated with the whole Thanksgiving thing, and observed that Americans in general used Thanksgiving more as an excuse to overeat than as an opportunity to show their gratitude to God.  We had a great conversation about what really matters, and some good time to encourage each other.  Please pray for Simeon as he returns to Trinidad, to be strengthened in his faith even more.

When our conversation ended, I realized the girls in my group had left the exhibit in the museum, so I decided to check out some of the other exhibits in the museum to try to find them.  The next exhibit I went into was an African textiles and clothing exhibit.  The rooms were completely dark, except for spotlights shining on the pieces of fabric or objects in cases.  All of this was pretty cool, until I got into the big room of the exhibit.  When I went in, I saw that there were four full-sized masks on display around the room.  Before I go any farther, you need to understand that masks and the costumes that go along with them aren't just considered to be art in animist Africa.  Each mask and costume represents a different spirit or god.  During a ceremony, the tribal priest wears a mask and costume and dances and performs rituals.  They believe it is actually the spirit dancing and conducting the ceremony, not the priest.  Animists spend their entire lives trying to keep the spirits happy and appeased, but every bit of trouble in their lives is proof that the spirits are displeased.  But Jesus came "to free those who through fear of death were subject to slavery all their lives." (Heb. 2:14)

When I walked in and saw these masks and costumes, my heart stopped.  It was like being in the presence of these demonic beings all at once, without warning.  I was seriously creeped out.  I was still looking for the girls, and I was trying to get myself under control.  "Be a big girl... they're only objects... they have no power, God is bigger..."  These were my thoughts as I was trying to get a grip.  I kept walking around the exhibit, trying to focus on the fabrics and clothing, trying to find my teammates, but it honestly felt like one of the costumes in particular was watching me wherever I went.  I have truly never felt such heaviness and oppression in my life.  My only thought was leaving the room and getting away from these demonic manifestations.  I really felt like a big loser for not toughing it out, because I know that greater is He who is in me than he who is in the world. (1 John 4:4)  But there also comes a time to flee from evil... so that's what I did.

As I was walking out, the Holy Spirit spoke very clearly.  He said, "You were under that oppression for 30 seconds, and it was all you could stand.  How do they feel, My children who live under this oppression every day, all their lives, slaves to fear?"  As much as this short experience was so gut-wrenching and difficult, I wouldn't exchange it.  God, in His wisdom, placed me in this museum and this exhibit to allow me to get just a taste of that fear and oppression that my people in Africa live under every day of their lives.  I didn't enjoy it, but I am so glad I went through it.  God gave me an experience that lets me understand my people just a little better.  And that little taste makes the whole experience worthwhile.

Where are we?

Can I just say that I love it here?  I have made some great friendships with fabulous, Godly women (and a few fabulous, Godly men, too!), and have had some really wonderful class sessions.  But, for the international traveler in me, the best part is just how international these 50 acres in Virginia really are.  Twice now, we've had "special" meals... code around ILC for "international food you have to eat with your hands.  Our first meal was Middle Eastern- great meatballs with flatbread, olives, hummus, and cucumber-onion relish.  Number 2 was Indonesian- a ground turkey curry with rice and lots of toppings, including a mildly spicy chutney that was awesome.  Honestly, the special meals are really better than the regular ones!  Side note: when you eat with your hands, you're only allowed to use the right hand... In countries without "facilities," your left hand is your toilet paper.  Pretty gross, huh?

Today I went to check mail and got a surprise.  Our lovely mail team decided we're in another country.  There was a sign on the mail room door saying that mail would only be available from 4:30 to 5:30.  It was almost 4:30, so I decided to stand in line. (Yes, there was a line by this point.)  At 4:30, one of the guys came out and said that he needed one person from each household, but only one person could come in at a time, and that we needed a photo ID to check our mail.  The guy in front of me went on in, and I'm waiting, but I started thinking... I don't have my ID with me.  I don't usually carry my ID to walk around campus.  Crud.  About this time, another guy comes out.  "I can get you in," he says, rubbing his fingers together, basically asking for a bribe... which I gladly would have paid, IF I had cash on me.  But I didn't.  Double crud.  Customer #1 comes out, and the first guy comes to the door to bring me in.  I am wearing my nametag, which lately has been a rarity, and I ask him if that will work, but he says no.  (About 4 people behind me get out of line at this point to go get their IDs, which they also left in their rooms... good to know I'm not the only one!)  So I got out of line without my mail... still haven't gotten it, and I'm debating whether or not I'm going to get it today, since that means going to the opposite end of campus to get my ID, then hiking all the way back up here.  I really don't need my mail all that badly!

But I really do love it... sarcasm aside.  I know, when it's real life and not just an "exercise," the novelty will wear off... but it just goes back to the whole American convenience issue.  We are, by far, the most convenient society on the planet.  And I'm not really sure that's a good thing.

When is it ever?

When I was in high school and college, I always felt like I got cheated. I had grown up in a Christian home, came to know Jesus when I was young, and fell in love with Him early. I didn't go through some of the traumatic experiences and phases other people my age did: I didn't get involved with the wrong crowd, didn't use drugs, had a fairly stable home life... you get the picture. I was grateful that I had been spared from those things, but still felt that my testimony was, well, boring.

As I went through some "adult trauma," my testimony evolved. The pain that I was spared in my youth I have now experienced... and by God's grace, I have made it through to the other side. He has brought me to a place I never would have been if I hadn't gone through these pains. I have experienced the passionate, amazing, can't-get-enough love of the Creator God. I have seen Him faithful to me in so many ways in the past few years, and He has truly been my Savior, my King, my Husband, my Everything. I focused on how He has provided for me with mercy and grace in the past few years. If you asked me to share my testimony, I would breeze right through coming to know the Lord as a child and tell you more about who He has been to me recently. I still thought my childhood testimony was boring.

When is the salvation of a soul BORING? The holy God of the universe rescues me from an eternity in Hell, and I call it BORING? A sinful child is still a sinner... and believe me, I was one! The Lord has shown me, once again, that I have no right to minimize His grace. He did not NEED me. He had no reason to take me in, even as a child, except that He LOVED me! Almighty Father, please forgive me for taking Your amazing sacrifice lightly. When is the Cross EVER boring???

I have arrived...

...in Virginia, anyway. The weekend was full of difficult goodbyes (lots of family time again, "Thanksgiving" dinner after church on Sunday, and Pizza Inn with my cousins). I went home Sunday night from dinner and was in really good shape packing-wise. Dad and I had packed and loaded the car during the afternoon, and stuff was really just down to what I needed late Sunday night and Monday morning. I went to bed feeling really wierd- not sure what to feel. I've been excited and looking forward to everything that's coming, but at that point in time, I was torn. All the goodbyes got to me, and, in all honestly, I really didn't want to hit the interstate in the morning. Didn't sleep well Sunday night-- was wide awake by 5. (Mom, Katie, and I had planned to meet for breakfast at 8, so I definitely didn't oversleep!) I had plenty of time to check and double-check everything I needed, but still managed to leave 2 cakes (!) that a friend had made for me to take with me, so after one tearful goodbye in the Stax Omega parking lot, Mom and I had another one in the driveway before I really left.

The drive to Rockville was pretty uneventful. From the driveway to the ILC (International Learning Center) gate was right at 6 hours, including two short stops. Checked in and started to get settled in. Kelli (my partner for the next 2 years) got in right after dinner, and we got settled in to our temporary home. We're in a quad with other families who are going to Central, Eastern, & Southern Africa (CESA). We 're in 4 mini-apartments with our own bedrooms, bathrooms, and kitchenette, and we all share one big greatroom. We've already had some great fellowship time in the greatroom- I'm looking forward to building some great relationships with this new Africa family!

The enemy started attacking me almost immediately... while I was working on an online assignment, my computer had a seizure- all kinds of internet windows started popping up faster than I could close them. I tried to stop them, close them, shut down the computer... nothing worked. Talk about freaking out! Finally, I just turned the computer off. Evidently, the seizure sent my computer into a coma, because I haven't been able to get into it since. I looked for the Windows installation discs, and as it turns out, they were the one other thing I left at home. :S So I had to get Mom to FedEx the discs up to me, and took my machine to the IT wonders here on campus... hopefully it will be healthy soon. But it amazes me how Satan attacked me in that area... trying to frustrate me with my ability to contact home and one more way I can be independent.

Classes started on Wednesday... the first couple of days were more long and exhausting than anything... legal and medical briefings... fun. But Friday took the cake. I went on a personal spiritual retreat, just me and God for 3 hours. And man, did He have a lot to say! Funny how, when you're struggling, like I've been struggling with some things for a while, God can open you up and show you what the real root of the issue is. And it's not at all what you thought it was to begin with. He really dealt with me on some things I've been carrying that I shouldn't have been... hopefully I'll be able to leave them behind.

Overwhelmed...

I am amazed and humbled by the wonderful believers I am surrounded by. This past weekend was completely overwhelming... in a good way. First of all, on Saturday evening, some sweet girlfriends held a "Missionary Shower" for me. After a fun gift time where I was showered with chocolate, Band Aids, Orbit gum, and Bath & Body Works hand soap, among other things, they led the most unbelievable prayer time. They lifted up me, my team, my family, and the people that we'll be working with in Lugbara. I felt so blessed to be surrounded by family and friends who have been by my side through some very difficult times, and who have seen the LORD work in amazing ways in my life. Knowing that these strong, Godly women are praying for me here at home make me even more confident that God will be glorified in Arua.

Sunday morning was a whirlwind. During both services, Taylors 1st Baptist held a commissioning for me and for the other girl from the church going to training in a couple weeks. They presented us to the church, asked the church family to pray for us as we go to Richmond for training and as we get into the field, and then prayed over us. After each service, church members had the opportunity to come and speak to us... what a blessing to get to see so many people who have poured into my life since I was a child, to know that God used them in shaping me into the woman I am today, and to know that they will continue to pray for me in the future. Needless to say, I was a wreck!

Since our commissioning was at the end of each service, I was asked to speak to The Connection, a large Life Group, during the first part of the second service hour. The Connection is a cross-generational class, with members from ages 20 to 80; I've been attending this class for the past few months, and it has been a huge blessing in my life. During my talk, I tried to explain how my life has come to be on the path of international missions. I also described my team, our mission, how we will be addressing this mission, and how they can pray for us. Their response in their willingness to pray for us and support me in this journey was simply overwhelming. I do not feel worthy to be blessed with such an amazing body to lift me up and encourage me.