My Bolivia

These are some of the faces I remember fondly from Bolivia. And these two, especially, are sweethearts I was thrilled to see again. I played with them, and colored with them, and danced with them two years ago...this visit I only got to see them for a little while, but it was still so exciting.

This Is Mine!

Today I was listening to some music and started imagining God saying about me, "this is mine!" It kind of makes me stop and think, that God would claim me.

I know I am not that terrific. I am mean all the time. And I have the worst ugliness in my heart. And I have problems.

But even with all that, with being so ugly and unlovable, God still would say about me, me! that He claims me as His. That He would even go so far as to say, "this one is mine!"

Amazing to think the God of the universe, the God who made the earth, and has so much more on His mind would take the time to even recognize this minute bit of existence, this piece of humanity. The me that I am, and take pleasure in knowing me. Take pleasure in who I am.

I need someone to take pleasure in me. To accept who I am with all the mistakes and sins. To claim me.
I am grateful I know the One who does.

Dreaming

My heart is full of many things. But for me, such is life.

I am learning that I am tenacious with dreams, passionate about them, stubbornly holding out for what I hope will come true. I grit my teeth, and hang on when everything seems hopeless.
When I finally see it come to pass, I celebrate with joy.

But when a dream falls and seems beyond reach, I mourn deeply.

I am realizing I have deep places in my heart, places that have never been opened up before. But now I am aware of  them, and cannot ignore them.

I feel like I am in a new skin, but sometimes trying to fit back into the old one...and it doesn't always work. I'm learning to become the person I am today and yet still be happy with where I am today.

I have an eye towards the future, and I know the dream in my heart. A beautiful dream, and one I had a small taste of but cannot realize yet. A dream I cannot forget. I think of it all day every day, breathe it, eat it, dream of it at night. And yet I know it is not for today, yet. I know there are other things that must take place first, before it is a today dream.

Even if it is not a today dream, even if it is silent and waiting, it gives me something to hope for, something to live for, something to work towards. One day, that dream will come true, I am sure. One day, I will be celebrating with joy, delight and excitement because it is realized.

I am dreaming of that day. I am dreaming of the day my deepest hopes will be here. I dream, with stars in my eyes, passion in my heart. I will not let go. I will not give up. I will work, I will wait, and I will succeed and I will be happy.

This is today.   And these are my dreams.

Indigo Silence

Purple clouds, deepening into indigo silence as night begins to creep up from the east, and arch over,
sprinkling bits of light, sparkling specks in the sky.
And a light little breeze, cool and delicious plays with the tired grasses, warm from the sun.
The crickets sing softly.
A gentle coo from a bird here or there.
Indigo silence.
Full of noise, yet quiet.
Dark, yet rich with color.
Night begins to cover us, and hides the glare of blemishes and muffles the sound of mistakes until we can see nothing and can only hear our own thoughts.  Can only know our own hearts.

And it stretches on and on, time standing still, and we relax, lulled by the stealthy passing of time. It tiptoes past us, unawares, until we wake to find ourselves in a new day. And what happened in the night? What did we miss in the dark, what did we lose in the meantime?

The night is indigo silence.

A Lesson From My Best Friend

This is a nice memory from Bolivia. Cisia was one of my best friends there, and so sweet. She and I had a special relationship and I miss her very much. My hermanita and I could get into a lot of trouble together, believe me!

Cisia taught me to ride motorbikes the Bolivian way, whistling for a taxi, and hopping aboard side saddle, with my groceries in my lap.

One thing that Cisia taught me, was that mission is beyond evangelism and holding Bible schools and building buildings. She helped me see that it is discipleship, and that a relationship is much more important. No one can measure the relationship between Cisia and I, and what may come of it in the future. But the time spent with her was invaluable, and she taught me a lot, without even realizing she was doing so.

My first lesson in discipleship.

Something I am pondering, for sure.

On Feelings

A bit of a post about some things I am thinking about this weekend, and that is about feelings.

I am noticing that I am much more prone to my feelings than I ever was before. Maybe I am just not remembering well, but ever since a certain happening, my feelings have been quickly and easily overwhelmed.

Perhaps this is from a deep wound, which causes quick reactions to hurt or pain. Whether this is true or not, my feelings get away from me and then I am frustrated because I am not able to control them as much as I would like.

My feelings well up inside me, and overwhelm me with whatever it is that is bothering me. Either sadness, or depression, or hurt or frustration, or more likely something illogical, and it spills over in all sorts of ways.

Tears. Harsh words. Unkind teasing. All sorts of ugliness comes out. And when it starts coming, I feel unhappy about it and frustrated with myself for being so emotional.

Being emotional is not what I think of for a mature woman. Emotion is surface, and from a part of the brain that is different than the reasoning part where deep thinking occurs. Emotion carries one away from thinking, and I do not want to be carried by emotion and feelings. I'd rather think carefully and reason to a more mature viewpoint. I'd rather my feelings come from maturity than emotion. And I've noticed my emotion changes as quickly as the wind, and is not reliable at all.

I do not want to be an unstable, emotional, immature woman.

This is why I get so frustrated with being caught up in feelings. And my feelings have been in quite a jumble lately! I wish they would just go away sometimes. Unfortunately, they do not go away and require a good bit of management.

 So to begin management, and this management needs some tight control.

God grant me grace to remember how others feel, to remember the truth in the midst of emotion, to remember the truth of situations beyond my control. And God grant me grace to weather the storm of feelings that are still present, and threatening to overcome.

A Small Thing

One thing I saw in Bolivia was the generosity always given so freely. During my time in Bolivia I met with a church and some members to hear and see what their dreams and goals for the future were. One church member invited us to her house and made a wonderful meal for us with the little she owned. She then told us that she was praying for us in the United States, that God would bless us. As I looked around at her humble house, with only a spigot in the yard for water, a few pots and pans over an open fire for her kitchen, I felt a lump rise in my throat when I considered the surroundings I am used to seeing here. This church member was asking for a blessing for us. The contrast was amazing. And deeply humbling.

I would like to be that generous. I would like to give out of the wealth that I have here. Will you join me? Will you look around for others who may not even have less than you, and give what you do have? Will you look for ways to bless other people?

I would like to introduce you to this woman's pastor. In this photo, he is the gentleman standing on the far right, his best blue shirt tucked in neatly, sleeves rolled up to the right size. Pastor Agusto stands with another pastor and the director of a Methodist school in front of the church he pastors in San Julian, the first Methodist church in the area. It is a mission church, and is in an impoverished area far from paved roads. Inside the floors are dirt, the walls of plain boards nailed up against the elements. Next door is a school and an empty, sandy lot where children were playing soccer.

The thing that makes Pastor Agusto stand out is the fact that he is an ordained elder in the Methodist church, yet his church cannot afford a parsonage for him to live in close to the church. Instead, he rents a place to live 15 blocks away...and walks the dusty or muddy roads every day to get to church to pastor his congregation. He has no transportation other than his feet. As we explored further, we found it is possible to purchase a motorcycle for around $1400 USD. I would like to help Pastor Agusto and present him with a new motorcycle. Would you help us raise the $1400 necessary to purchase a means of transportation for Pastor Agusto?

A motorcycle is a small thing. A small way to be the hands and feet of Jesus. A small way to reach out to others across the globe and share with others living in difficult surroundings. And I know every spare cent of mine is going toward making the goal of purchasing a motor for Pastor Agusto.

If you would like to help, please leave a comment or send me an email here: Email