Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Have a Coffee, On Us.



We wish we could take you on a walk through town to meet our friends, see interesting sights, and taste some local foods. Since we can't, maybe you will enjoy this unprofessional video of this friend of ours making Jonathan a cup of coffee. He has perfected the art of boiling the coffee on his little burner to the point where it boils over into a cup! (When things boil over in our kitchen it is never this beautiful. Just saying.)

Oh, the Ups and Downs of Life



Enjoy. 😱😂💕

It was our first day in a new country, and we were feeling everything that humans who just flew across the world with a toddler are apt to feel. Rachel, however, had a few more feelings in store for her emotion-pile!

He's Got This

A chilly, freshly laundered shirt rests damp in my hand, as I pause and pay attention to the world outside my airy balcony. 

Twittering birds soar amongst our neighborhood assortment of squarish apartment buildings. The morning air is cool and fresh, the sky a heart-melting puffy blue. 

The fine dust that usually has its hands in everything is subdued under the influence of a recent rain, and neighborhood trash floats peacefully in a large pond-of-a puddle that still looks to me like a foreign guest in our desert town. Robed men walk briskly down the street, their skirts shuffling. Children in coats scamper and play in the vacant lot across from us. Colored laundry decorates neighborhood window grates, tucked in-between the bars and waiting for a good piece of warmth and sunshine to come along. I sling the wet shirt over a plastic line and position the arms for drying. Yes, this is a beautiful place in which to enter the 2020s. 


Awakened to the present as I am, the question arises: Since we are about to enter a new numerical decade, I wonder where I was at a decade ago? Flipping backwards through the mental pages of my life until I reach 2009-2010, I stare in memory at the teenager sitting on her bed, looking out the window. What were her dreams? What did she long for? A line from one of my favorite poems back then can tell you some of my sentiment:

“If you have gone a little way ahead of me, call back;
'Twill cheer my heart and help my feet along the stony track;
And if, perchance, Faith's light is dim, because the oil is low,
Your call will guide my lagging course as wearily I go….”
- Quoted in Streams In The Desert devotional

I remember how I often longed to hear those who had gone even a little ahead of me, calling back to me with words of reassurance and hope. Actually, I still find myself longing to hear from those farther down the path, who’ve been pilgriming longer than I. “’Twill cheer my heart and help my feet along the stony track!”

But today, I want to “call back” to any who are behind me on the path. 

Mainly, I want to say, trusting Jesus is safe.

At the beginning of this decade, my thoughts first started to turn to this part of the world. I dreamed of what the future could hold; yet in the present moments I had no idea what decisions to make, agonizing over so many possibilities. Do I go here, there, or anywhere? How will I know for sure which guy to marry? How will I have enough money for the step I feel I’m to take? And what will I do after that?

Hindsight seems to be a gift you can only receive by faithfully taking one day at a time. Looking back from here, I can see the artful choreography of a Master Artisan as I recall each monumental event and experience that led me up to the part of the pilgrimage I find myself on today. It all fits together like a 3,652-piece jigsaw puzzle. The dark merging into the light with that piece; the jagged rocks beside the flower, with those six pieces that connect the mountain with the valley. How did I know the right one to marry? How did I know which steps to take? The truth is, I didn’t know. I was blind, yet led by the hand of Someone I could not see, but trusted was very, very close. And He was.

If you are earnestly desiring to be close to Jesus, desiring His will, and wanting to glorify Him with your life, He can take care of the journey. Set your heart on pilgrimage with Him. (See Psalm 84:5, NKJV) The journey most likely won’t look like you expected (from my experience) but you don’t want to be the one in charge. There is so much you don’t know, that He does know. Letting Jesus take the lead is worth it. He knows what He’s doing, where He’s going, and how to get you there.

I ended this last decade by moving to the place where we are now. In a sense, I started a pilgrimage leading me here, ten years ago; and now, as we begin a new decade, I'm starting a new pilgrimage in a new land. There is so much I don’t know; so many unknowns and there will doubtless be countless joys, sorrows, troubles and delights in the next decade if Jesus doesn’t come back before then. 

However, my heart is quieted as I think back over God’s faithfulness to me. He has walked with me through seasons of darkness as well as seasons of light. He’s walked with me in ecstasy and sorrow. I haven’t always felt His presence or understood what He’s doing; indeed, there are still great mysteries I carry in my journey with Him. 

But if you are longing for some reassurance as you look into a new decade, I want to be one to say, Lift up your head, don’t be cast down in your soul. There is One who is walking with you, who knows the path and the destination, and He’s got this. He can handle your successes as well as your failures. He can handle your mistakes and cheers you in your successes. He can handle your pain, and He does give joy. Trust Him with the journey, and let Him lead the way. With me. I need to be reminded of these things as well.

The balcony is calling me to come and watch and listen again. The laundry is calling, too. I am praying for you today, that in the ordinary moments, you will also be awake to find the hand of God.



This was written specifically for those who were on teams that we led. If you are ahead of me on my journey, I look forward to hearing you calling back to me of God’s faithfulness and persistent love.


Tuesday, December 3, 2019

All in the Plan

It must’ve been quite dark already. A woman large and pregnant moaned to her husband in the dimly lit cobblestone street, ”Please, we must find somewhere to stay. I am so exhausted. There must be a place.” Her husband shook his head in bewilderment. They were in an unfamiliar place, one of many travelers who were being required by law to go to the towns of their ancestors. A new husband, he hoped his new wife with her pregnancy emotions wouldn’t blame him for their predicament from the wildness of her sleepy mind. “I’ve been trying and trying to get to a good place where we can stay,” he replied slowly. “I guess l need to start asking around for a little corner of someone’s barn or something. I’m so sorry.” But his wife was too tired to reply. Her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of the Miracle who was squirming uncomfortably in her belly. The exhausting travels of the day had done their work in her, and although a first time mom, she was quite sure that the feelings she was having must mean that tonight would be The Night.

Her imagination flitted to the cozy scenes she had envisioned for the moment she would give birth. True, she had brought along some cloth for wrapping the baby; but there was so much they hadn’t been able to bring with them to this ancient, brimfull town. 


I sure do wonder what she thought, when her husband led her into a dirty, smelly barn for the night. The Night. In my current pregnant state, I can imagine quite well how my soul would recoil at the thought of stable boys and animals sleeping and making noises near me while I experience one of life’s holiest moments....amidst straw and dirt! I am sure I would find myself easily feeling forgotten by the God I follow. Betrayed. Frustrated. Alone.

I find it easy to imagine that Mary could have been at least tempted to feel abandoned by God that night...in the very moment when Immanuel arrived to earth.

In Mary’s motherly eyes, it must’ve seemed like an ironic oversight that one carrying such a wondrous child as hers would be required by circumstance to give birth in a barn. It must’ve seemed like God Himself had closed His eyes and let life happen for a short while without His careful observance. 

But there was a lot she couldn’t see. 

God’s eyes were open. Heaven was open. Immanuel was soon to be loved and known as God, With Us. God was fulfilling a Plan bigger than the new mother could hope to dream. He saw in her baby The Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the whole world. And He wanted the Lamb to be born in a place for animals. A place for the poor, the ones who were last, the ones who couldn’t find a place and were pretty much homeless. Almighty God was sending His Lamb precisely to those kinds of people. He wanted His entrance into the world to be a symbol of the life He would live and the kind of people He would welcome into His Kingdom. He wanted His Lamb to be born in a place where, symbolically, it would be shepherds who would be the first to seek and find Him; a place where those who care for sheep could be the first to adore the newly born Lamb of God. 

I am sure Mary had no idea, as she yielded herself to birthing her precious child in the dirt and discomfort of a stable, that this was all in the Plan

But how she must’ve rejoiced to receive her child into her arms! And what feelings of awe must’ve rushed through her when a group of rough, night-air-scented shepherds made their way into the barn to welcome the King of Glory to Bethlehem!

I too face many moments in life where things don’t seem fair. It’s too easy to wonder, “Father God, do You care? I should be believing, but I need reassured - are You there?” It’s easy to feel that if He truly were there, circumstances would be better. If His promises were coming true, surely it wouldn’t look like this

But if only we could be given the eyes to see, even for a minute or two, the way that all things are working out for good and the way we are part of a glorious story of redemption and meaning that spans history! If we could see all there was to see, we would surely know that we are adequately cared for. In fact, we might not even mind if we weren’t. In light of the glorious meaning that the Lamb gives to us and our story, we might not need it to be easy. We might not need it to all make sense in the moment. We might not need it to be comfortable. If only our small lives may fulfill their part in the glorious Story, we will not regret yielding to birthing in a barn...or whatever may be in The Plan for us.