Weariness that Attacks the Soul

In the Fall of 2008 I entered what a lot of people term 'full-time ministry' when I moved overseas. After living and working there for 3 years, I moved home in the Fall of 2011. Within two months I was working in the inner city. It now being nearly the winter of 2014, I have completed 3 years in this position. For those of you counting, that's 6 years living and working in pretty dark, difficult circumstances. I can't express the number of times I've wanted to quit, to give up, to have a 'normal' job that doesn't require people interaction, etc.

This Fall has been one of the hardest seasons of 'work' I've yet had to endure. Most of the darkest, hardest undertakings are things I can't speak of on a public blog, but I will say this: I have been on my knees, I have been in tears, I have questioned whether deep in my heart I trusted God, and this past month I found myself entering 'survival-mode' just to make it to Christmas break. Well, I made it to the break, and here I am trying to pick up the pieces of my heart and run to Him with them. It's been hard and messy these past days!

Just now I was laying on my bed, feeling discouraged. Interesting how Satan likes to attack when someone's down, eh? Little thoughts about how my kids from work, that I've poured heart and soul into, really don't love Jesus, as seen with their words and actions on social media. Thinking about how the house across the street, that not a day goes by that I don't pray for God to move and work over there, has little change in the pimps, prostitutes, and clients that shuffle in and out their front door. How, even at the age of 30, it has not failed that nearly every year I either have to move or get a new roommate on top of already feeling lonely and unstable as a single woman. Things with family. Things with my health. And the list goes on. All that rushed through my head as I lay gazing at my wall I'd just spent a few hours re-doing with pictures and quotes. The verse in one of the frames caught my eye: "You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl..." Matthew 5:14 In those few words I saw a glimpse into my weary heart!

How much I long to turn off the light I'm shining, to hide it under a bowl, to run from having to shine it out to others. But, as the verse says, the Light that's in my heart isn't a thing to be turned off and on. It's become me, now that Jesus has ownership of my heart and life. In His words: "You are the light of the world..." No matter how weary or discouraged I become, I can't stop shining- it's who I am! And strangely, even though I'm not entirely sure why, that brings great comfort to my tired, down-trodden soul tonight. The Light inside will continue to shine, because It's not dependent upon me and how I'm doing, but upon Another. That, my friends, brings hope and is the best of news!

The Proud King

Hezekiah has always been one of my favorite kings from the Old Testament. He's not super famous like David or Solomon, but he's always stood out to me for one particular story. He got really ill, so ill that Isaiah came to him and told him to sort out all his affairs, for he wasn't going to live. Hezekiah's response has always been so powerful to me (God's reply back- even more so!):  "'Remember, Lord, how I have walked before you faithfully and with wholehearted devotion and have done what is good in your eyes.' And Hezekiah wept bitterly." (2 Kings 20:2-3) Isaiah made it midway through the courtyard when God commanded him to return. “'Go back and tell Hezekiah, the ruler of my people, ‘This is what the Lord, the God of your father David, says: I have heard your prayer and seen your tears; I will heal you. On the third day from now you will go up to the temple of the Lord. I will add fifteen years to your life....’” (verse 5-6) Does God change His mind because of the fervent prayer of His king? It's mind boggling to think through, a task which I've done often throughout my lifetime. 

It wasn't until recently that I really paid attention to the other version of this story that is found in 2 Chronicles 32:24-25. Here it talks about how, even though God had healed him, he didn't "make return according to the benefit done to him, for his heart was proud.." And later it says that "God left him to himself, in order to test him and to know all that was in his heart." Basically Hezekiah's life ends with God saying that there are going to be consequences for his proud choices, but because he's showed some humility they won't happen in H's lifetime. To which H replies: "'The word of the Lord you have spoken is good,' Hezekiah replied. For he thought, 'Will there not be peace and security in my lifetime?'" (2 Kings 20:19)

This man that I've come to admire and the life that I have thought so much about are both deeply flawed! In the small bits and pieces we see of his life and heart, we can notice selfishness, pride, materialism, bad parenting, etc. Not a super quality guy..! But God listened to his cry and plea for healing. It baffles me as to why He'd do that. But at the same time it offers me hope to pray in a similar vein. However, this morning as I read through all of this again, I encountered a different perspective. 

As I've been struggling through various health issues, I've tackled them all numerous ways: rushing about to doctor after doctor, fasting, prayer, changing diet and lifestyle, etc. Somehow each of those has left me back at square one with no answers and frustrated. No one knows what's wrong and nothing seems to be helping. So this morning I flipped open my Bible and read this story again with tears streaming down my cheeks begging God to heal me. And then a thought hit me: I am a very proud person, and God knows my heart more than I ever will. Maybe I'm the same as Hezekiah. Maybe He knows that if He healed me, my proud heart would not make return according to the benefit done to me. Who knows, but what I do know is that God is always after something deeper than just my comfort and my convenience. He's after my heart! And by George, if I die tomorrow or 50 years from now, I want to do it with a humble heart that is daily giving my sweet Abba all the glory and praise He deserves. 

Through Doors of Hope

It's hard living directly across the street from what I call a "pimp house"- it's really just a brothel of sorts. One man lives there and numerous other people flow in and out all day and all night. Scantly clad women sit on the porch or walk next door to the "drug house" to get some "goods". Men with hungry eyes sit in cars as they wait their turn or await their sister or girlfriend's shift to finish. It's a horrific thing to behold day after day!

I've spent a good number of years living and working in the midst of poverty type cultures. Prostitution and drug use aren't anything new to me. But having both fill your eyes EVERY time you leave the house, sit on your porch, or glance out your window has proven to be overwhelming for my wee heart! There's hardly a time when I don't leave my door begging God to shut it down, to bring justice and freedom, or simply to burn down the house. And truly, unless the Lord moves in one of these ways, there's not any way forward (it's so common down here that the police rarely do anything about either of these "petty" crimes). If I'm honest, some days that brings rest, but most days that feels inadequate.

I work with the children and youth in this inner city neighborhood. I have numerous little girls that have been sexually abused. Most of my girls have little contact or no relationship with their daddies. The majority of the moms cycle through men. The boys in their classes speak to them in provocative and sexual ways, even in elementary school. And I can't help but see my sweet babies when I gaze at the women entering the house across the street. Unless God intervenes, such is the future that this neighborhood has to offer and awaits them. My heart isn't okay with that...

So, tonight I sat in my backyard, in what has become a little oasis of peace, and talked with my Abba again about these heavy things. As I flipped slowly through my Bible, pausing to read underlined passages and notes, I ended up in Hosea. The little token that broke through the tears into my heart was that He takes the Valley of Achor (trouble) and makes it a door of hope. He does this as He draws us out into the wilderness, and we are able to see Him as our Love and Husband. I wrote this verse on the wood I was sitting on (the beauty of pallet furniture!), and begged God to one day use this little oasis of peace to be a place where people from this neighborhood find their doors of hope! I can't wait...

Opinionated Ranting

I don't normally blog on topics that are 'hot' and currently happening around the globe. This is not because I don't care or have passion for them, but more because I don't want my blog to become an opinionated rant. And I can be great at being opinionated and ranting if the issue at hand is one I'm passionate about. However, I am crossing those boundaries today to address something that has been bothering me extensively for a while.

Though I'm relatively young, I've lived quite a bit of life in my years. I've seen the history of many places, experienced many cultures, lived in dozens of locations, and befriended numerous ethnicities. My life perspective has been stripped of much of the pride it was inundated with from growing up in my American (or should I say: Texan? ha) bubble. And I wouldn't trade that for anything- it's a rich treasure! But it serves to haunt me when world issues or crises arise, or really when the public becomes aware of their existence.

There's an Instagram feed I follow entitled Humans of NY. I love the photographer's perspective on capturing people, as it is without bias or personal opinion. One of his most recent pictures/stories was of a homeless man begging for change on the street corner. His story was that of riches to rags from being mugged on the street and losing all semblance of health from the attack. The comments really irked me! "Where is this man? I want to help him." And tons of other shocked responses that such a thing could happen to a person, followed by a desire to find this specific man and help him back onto his feet. Feelings of immense frustration filled my heart- he's the guy on the corner that they pass by on the way to work each day. He's the man that petitions them for change as they glare at him for being in their way. He's the one who they've felt tried to con them into giving him 'bus fare to get to my daughter in the hospital.' They've met him before, and they walked away. The reason they don't know his story is because they didn't ask, they didn't listen, and they didn't care. Looking at an impersonal picture on a phone as one sits in the luxury of their comfort zone somehow brings a bravado that is lacking when one walks past him. A desire to 'change the world' and right all the wrongs as long as it just involves one time giving, no relational investment, and no mess to affect their day to day comforts.

Nigeria is a political mess and has been for a really long time. Travel to any major European city (or even some US ones) and many of the women and men being exploited on the streets are from Nigeria. It's a poor and broken country, which has served as fuel for numerous groups to come in, kidnap, and wreck unnameable havoc among the people... all while the West has turned a calloused face away in apathy. But 276 girls all the sudden show up missing and it becomes the world's highest trending topic on social media? How easy it is to click a button, jump on a bandwagon of 'doing something' worthwhile while they surf the net, and then forget about it in a few weeks time. I found this quote off of CNN's website to be a good telltale sign of what people really care about regarding this issue.. themselves! "Just imagine if 276 girls had been kidnapped in the United States. The response would be mass outrage and a forceful demand for a response. As borders become more irrelevant for terrorists, the whole world needs to take notice of the likes of Boko Haram."

Please don't get me wrong- I care deeply for the homeless and the sweet Nigerian girls!! But I also care about lasting change and genuine care of people, not just a political issue people quickly jump on and off. I've known numerous Nigerian people and love their country immensely! I've known numerous homeless people, and almost all have heart wrenching stories. But I get sick of people acting like they care, but the reality is that their money, time, and everything else prove they actually don't. Trafficking is horrific, and a person would've had to been living in a hole to not know how widespread and disgusting it was before these little girls were kidnapped. Homelessness is everywhere one turns, I don't understand how someone could just not know that they are in fact human beings with really sad, hard stories. How I long for people to live life with eyes wide open! To stop going from one social media political high to the next. To pray to have God's heart for the hurting and pain-filled right there in their own cities and across the world. What movement we would see if even just the Church did this!

Okay my political, opinionated rant is done! :)

The Art of Being Single

I'll be honest, I never imagined reaching 30 and being single. I'm not someone who had my life all planned out and 'knew what I wanted to be when I grew up', but everyone I knew, as a teenager, that was in their 30's was married (except for a few pretty odd people). I guess I just never fathomed or was able to picture life being single long term. Don't get me wrong, being single isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to me. I actually quite enjoy my freedom and all the amazing experiences God has blessed with being able to partake in because I'm not married or parenting. But if I was honest about the depths of my heart, being single is a big wrestle my heart struggles with on a somewhat day to day basis. It looks and feels different each day, but the battle is there nonetheless. I often find myself on my knees crying out for God to remove the desire if it's never to reach fruition, but He hasn't yet.

This past week my Home Group from church met together to participate in a Seder Dinner (a Jewish tradition for Passover). It was a rich time of enjoying Jesus, being together, and savoring good food. As we talked about Christ and Heaven, I found a deep longing surging through my heart to see Him and to finally be there at Home. As this desire increased inside me, I found myself glancing around the table at these men and women I 'do life with' on a day to day basis. People I know well through working with, living with, or serving with. As I thought of who I was sitting with, my mind trickled back through all the hundreds of people from my past that fit into one of those categories (I've moved around a lot- the number is massive!). How sweet that day will be when I'm sitting at the banquet feast, the wedding supper of the Lamb!! To finally be united with my Bridegroom and together with all those who'll make up the Bride. What a rich evening, full of all that my soul longs for and desires. In that moment I shall be in want for nothing more than I shall already possess!

I can't help but find my desire to be married to be pale in comparison to that moment. It won't matter who I was or wasn't married to when I reach that dinner feast, will it? Marriage is sweet here on earth, as you love and serve your King together. But really it's simply a tool to spur one another on to keep drawing others into that journey to that table with you. For some reason, for my 30 years and this season of life, Jesus has decided I don't need that. I don't know why, and I still can't understand His ways in this and regarding my dozens of single friends. But I'm learning to trust. I'm learning to look beyond what my eyes can see. I'm learning to focus on my Bridegroom and eternity. And I'm learning that He and He alone satisfies my heart's desires and longings.

So, as my 30th approaches, I raise my glass and toast my singleness as a beautiful gift from the One my heart loves more than all else. And if the only wedding I ever experience is the one to Him, that walk down the aisle to His arms will be the sweetest moment fathomable... worth every moment leading up to it!

And so to Him I leave it all

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His holy will abideth;
I will be still whate’er He doth;
And follow where He guideth;
He is my God; though dark my road,
He holds me that I shall not fall:
Wherefore to Him I leave it all.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He never will deceive me;
He leads me by the proper path:
I know He will not leave me.
I take, content, what He hath sent;
His hand can turn my griefs away,
And patiently I wait His day.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His loving thought attends me;
No poison can be in the cup
That my Physician sends me.
My God is true; each morn anew
I’ll trust His grace unending,
My life to Him commending.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He is my Friend and Father;
He suffers naught to do me harm,
Though many storms may gather,
Now I may know both joy and woe,
Some day I shall see clearly
That He hath loved me dearly.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
Though now this cup, in drinking,
May bitter seem to my faint heart,
I take it, all unshrinking.
My God is true; each morn anew
Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart,
And pain and sorrow shall depart.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
Here shall my stand be taken;
Though sorrow, need, or death be mine,
Yet I am not forsaken.
My Father’s care is round me there;
He holds me that I shall not fall:
And so to Him I leave it all.
samuel rodigast

Through My Eyes

He got in the car with me last week, and we began to drive through our neighborhood to the office that was promising to help him find housing for himself and his two girls (one of which I mentor). Small talk and catching up on life filled the car for the first few minutes. When we reached the nearby highway the conversation had changed.

"You came early", he said. "I was just about to write you a letter when you arrived to get me. I wanted to tell you how I was noticing you were different than most people. For you, it's not about color or where a person is in life. Oh how I wish the rest of the world saw other people and life through your eyes. The world would be such a better place..." And he continued on with sweet words that I didn't deserve. Seeing his slight pause as a chance to talk about my First Love and Savior, I directed all praise His way and then changed the subject to all He was doing in his life. But his phrase: "I wish the world saw other people and life through your eyes", has stuck with me.

The reality is that I know my 'eyes' all too well. Most days I wish I could get rid of them! I know the judgmental-ness that I battle as I compare or nit pick things. I know the negativity I fight on a daily basis. I know the fears I have of other people being recognized over me. I know the calloused-ness I face when I survey the hurt and pain around. No, my 'eyes' are indeed NOT a beautiful thing that anyone around should envy or try to pattern after. But His 'eyes', that I'm seeking to put on more and more each day, are loving, gracious, kind, eager to help, patient in suffering, not after their own glory, quick to be humble, and overall the sweetest thing anyone has ever beheld this side of heaven!

I have a love/hate relationship with sanctification. You see, it's great cuz it grants me the ability to live in His ways more and more. However, it's pain-filled and hard mostly, so I very much hate it most days. But the more I'm becoming like Him, the more He is seen instead of me. And that's truly a great thing. Praise His Holy Name that, as He sanctifies me, those around me see I have my Daddy's eyes and mine fade away more and more!