So. With a few changes, I'm back. I'm currently at 75% of my goal, which makes the whole endeavor suddenly seem very real, and I'm beginning to seesaw between thinking I'll never leave, and thinking I don't have enough time to get everything taken care of that I need to before I leave! All in all, it's an okay place to be.
I don't have anything profound to share today; this summer has been one long marathon that is only now approaching an end (school starts in a week...eep!). I just wanted to pass on the fact that due to security concerns overseas, the organization I work with and my name should not appear together online (not a concern for you non-social media users, but just wanted to put it out there). Thanks for your help!
This also means I can't link you directly to the website, so if you need help or have questions, just post a comment with your email address and the word "Help!" and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
What does the Lord require of you?
I'm currently reading a book called When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor...Or Yourself. It's been challenging. For many people, Christianity is going to church on Sunday and living life as if we've taken some sort of Hippocratic Oath to do no harm. And there's nothing wrong with that, in and of itself. But it is enough? In the chapter I'm currently reading, the authors visit Isaiah and dig into the reasons for Israel's captivity. Why was Israel sent into captivity? The easy answer, and the one I came up with first, was idolatry. But there's more. "Here," the authors note, "Israel appears to be characterized by personal piety and the outward expressions of formal religion." These outward signs did not reflect any inward heart for God. Chapter 58 talks about "proper fasting":
"Is this not the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter--"[the ESV says it a little more strongly: "and bring the homeless poor into your house"] "when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not turn away from your own flesh and blood? Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I. If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk, and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday."
The authors say, "God was furious over Israel's failure to care for the poor and the oppressed. He wanted His people to 'loose the chains of injustice,' and not just go to church on Sunday. He wanted His people to 'clothe the naked,' and not just attend midweek prayer meeting. He wanted His people to 'spend themselves on behalf of the hungry,' and not just sing praise music. Personal piety and formal worship are essential to the Christian life, but they must lead to lives that 'act justly and love mercy' (Micah 6:8)"
Israel was meant to be a preview of the coming Messiah, but failed frequently and spectacularly. As the Christian church, we "are more than just a sneak preview of King Jesus. The church is the body, bride, and very fullness of Jesus Christ[...] When people look at the church, they should see the very embodiment of Jesus! When people look at the church, they should see the One who declared--in word and in deed to the leper, the lame, and the poor--that His kingdom is bringing healing to every speck of the universe."
Is that convicting, or what? I'm pretty sure that I've got more in common with Old Testament Israel than I'd care to admit or contemplate. Besides which, who am I, what gifts do I have, that God could use me? Joyce Meyer says, "It frequently happens that believers know something down deep in their hearts...but their minds fight against it. They may consider themselves unworthy. They may ask, 'Who am I that You would use me to change lives?' They waste a lot of energy by telling God why they can't do what He wants them to do. God already knows everything that is wrong with us or ever will be wrong with us, and He is willing to work through us anyway. God requires availability not ability." Our part in this is to decide to believe. And then do what he asks. Which is why, doubts and fears and all, I'm going.
"Is this not the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter--"[the ESV says it a little more strongly: "and bring the homeless poor into your house"] "when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not turn away from your own flesh and blood? Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I. If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk, and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday."
The authors say, "God was furious over Israel's failure to care for the poor and the oppressed. He wanted His people to 'loose the chains of injustice,' and not just go to church on Sunday. He wanted His people to 'clothe the naked,' and not just attend midweek prayer meeting. He wanted His people to 'spend themselves on behalf of the hungry,' and not just sing praise music. Personal piety and formal worship are essential to the Christian life, but they must lead to lives that 'act justly and love mercy' (Micah 6:8)"
Israel was meant to be a preview of the coming Messiah, but failed frequently and spectacularly. As the Christian church, we "are more than just a sneak preview of King Jesus. The church is the body, bride, and very fullness of Jesus Christ[...] When people look at the church, they should see the very embodiment of Jesus! When people look at the church, they should see the One who declared--in word and in deed to the leper, the lame, and the poor--that His kingdom is bringing healing to every speck of the universe."
Is that convicting, or what? I'm pretty sure that I've got more in common with Old Testament Israel than I'd care to admit or contemplate. Besides which, who am I, what gifts do I have, that God could use me? Joyce Meyer says, "It frequently happens that believers know something down deep in their hearts...but their minds fight against it. They may consider themselves unworthy. They may ask, 'Who am I that You would use me to change lives?' They waste a lot of energy by telling God why they can't do what He wants them to do. God already knows everything that is wrong with us or ever will be wrong with us, and He is willing to work through us anyway. God requires availability not ability." Our part in this is to decide to believe. And then do what he asks. Which is why, doubts and fears and all, I'm going.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Revisiting
I'm not a huge advocate of letting one's Bible fall open at random when searching for guidance, but occasionally it works, presenting you with exactly the thing you need, when you need it. I stumbled across Colossians this past week, and read it with new eyes. It was an amazing and exhilarating experience. It's a short book, only 4 chapters long, but it packs a punch. Check out 3:12-17 in particular.
On the fund-raising end: just passed the 40% mark. Thanks to all, and please keep praying!
Monday, February 25, 2013
A few thoughts on missions
I've been interested in missions ever since I was a child. The church I grew up in was excited about missions, and every November our missionaries would come show slideshows of villages in Papua New Guinea or wherever they happened to be, and talk about the amazing things God was doing around the world. This would culminate in the Missions Banquet, a sort of "Hurrah!" and a way to get pumped about another year of giving. It was fabulous. I've never found anything else quite like it.
Over the years, my beliefs about God, the church, and our place in the world as Christians has changed and evolved and (I'd like think, at least) matured to reach the point I'm at now. And while this process is by no means finished, I have picked up a few insights along the way. First, God has called everyone to missions. Granted, he has not called all of us to go live in grass huts in the deepest jungles (Thank goodness for that--I've got a thing about really big bugs...), but we are all called to be missionaries in some fashion. For some of us, it's the mission field of the family, or the workplace, or the summer camp, or quite possibly all of the above. For others it's the teaching and equipping of pastors and church leaders and conference speakers. And some of us are called to third-world countries on the opposite side of the planet. Some are called to go; others are called to stay behind--but they are just as important as those who go, because they are the ones who get to send. Because the people who go could never actually get going without a committed team of senders, who are just as much a part of the mission work. (And on that note, I'm at 33% of my support--thank you to my loyal senders!)
The second thing I've come to believe is that God does not actually need me. He called me, but I could have said no. I would have missed out on a lot, but I had a choice in the matter. In the story of Esther, Mordecai pleads with Esther to intercede for the Jews. He says, "For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place" (Esther 4:14). God put Esther in a place of having to choose, but if she'd declined, He would have found some other way--and Esther would not have just lost out on some blessings, but she would have lost her very life. So what does that mean? God doesn't need me, but he called me, and I am humbled and honored at the chance to join this incredible work! What has God called you to do?
Over the years, my beliefs about God, the church, and our place in the world as Christians has changed and evolved and (I'd like think, at least) matured to reach the point I'm at now. And while this process is by no means finished, I have picked up a few insights along the way. First, God has called everyone to missions. Granted, he has not called all of us to go live in grass huts in the deepest jungles (Thank goodness for that--I've got a thing about really big bugs...), but we are all called to be missionaries in some fashion. For some of us, it's the mission field of the family, or the workplace, or the summer camp, or quite possibly all of the above. For others it's the teaching and equipping of pastors and church leaders and conference speakers. And some of us are called to third-world countries on the opposite side of the planet. Some are called to go; others are called to stay behind--but they are just as important as those who go, because they are the ones who get to send. Because the people who go could never actually get going without a committed team of senders, who are just as much a part of the mission work. (And on that note, I'm at 33% of my support--thank you to my loyal senders!)
The second thing I've come to believe is that God does not actually need me. He called me, but I could have said no. I would have missed out on a lot, but I had a choice in the matter. In the story of Esther, Mordecai pleads with Esther to intercede for the Jews. He says, "For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place" (Esther 4:14). God put Esther in a place of having to choose, but if she'd declined, He would have found some other way--and Esther would not have just lost out on some blessings, but she would have lost her very life. So what does that mean? God doesn't need me, but he called me, and I am humbled and honored at the chance to join this incredible work! What has God called you to do?
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Delusions of Grandeur
In general, most of the people I know lead very quiet, safe lives. I include myself in this, most emphatically. We have jobs, we have vehicles, we have routines we follow day after day, week after week, bills to pay, vacations to enjoy, dreams to dream. And there's nothing wrong with that, except that it tends to breed self-reliance. I'm so glad I have this job that pays for my rent and my food, and a maybe a little extra to put by for when the car starts making that weird noise (seriously, did my car just sneeze?). We turn to God for the big stuff, when a tree falls on our house or a family member gets sick, or something threatens our self-reliance.
This is part of what I like so much about traveling. When I'm in a foreign city, whether it's 700 or 7,000 miles from home, I've got nothing. I remember climbing into a taxi one night on the opposite end of Kathmandu from where I needed to be, and saying, "Thamel chowk." (A 'chowk' is an intersection, and easier than trying to identify the tiny alley down which my hotel can be found.) The driver, who'd been sitting in a dark car near a dark gas station off a busy road, nods and agrees. The only English he seems to know is "600 rupees--good price!" I disagree, we haggle, and then I climb into the taxi and we drive off through a dark city. There are few lights, no street signs, and with the sun down I couldn't tell which way was North or South if my life depended on it. I'm completely at the mercy of this cab driver, who is likely a decent guy, but it's after dark and a foreign city and I'm a female alone. There really is only one thing to do, which is pray. And pray I do, until the bright lights and increased foot traffic indicate the nearness of tourist-town Thamel.
And then I come home, and say, "Thanks, God, that was fun--but I've got this now."--and go back to my delusion that I've got everything under control. The last few months have been educational, or perhaps reeducational, in that I've had to learn to let go again. I'm no more in control now than I was climbing into that taxi, I just seem to be. It's time to let go of my delusions of grandeur, as C-3PO put it, and turn it all back over to God. He's a big God; he can handle it.
This is part of what I like so much about traveling. When I'm in a foreign city, whether it's 700 or 7,000 miles from home, I've got nothing. I remember climbing into a taxi one night on the opposite end of Kathmandu from where I needed to be, and saying, "Thamel chowk." (A 'chowk' is an intersection, and easier than trying to identify the tiny alley down which my hotel can be found.) The driver, who'd been sitting in a dark car near a dark gas station off a busy road, nods and agrees. The only English he seems to know is "600 rupees--good price!" I disagree, we haggle, and then I climb into the taxi and we drive off through a dark city. There are few lights, no street signs, and with the sun down I couldn't tell which way was North or South if my life depended on it. I'm completely at the mercy of this cab driver, who is likely a decent guy, but it's after dark and a foreign city and I'm a female alone. There really is only one thing to do, which is pray. And pray I do, until the bright lights and increased foot traffic indicate the nearness of tourist-town Thamel.
And then I come home, and say, "Thanks, God, that was fun--but I've got this now."--and go back to my delusion that I've got everything under control. The last few months have been educational, or perhaps reeducational, in that I've had to learn to let go again. I'm no more in control now than I was climbing into that taxi, I just seem to be. It's time to let go of my delusions of grandeur, as C-3PO put it, and turn it all back over to God. He's a big God; he can handle it.
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