There are sometimes in life when you recognize that you are not the right person for the job, or not the right person who needs to be doing the talking. Someone else can say it or do it better, so let them. This is one of those times. I have followed a young woman's blog now for quite some time - her name is Katie and she is pouring out her life admist the dusty roads of Uganda. I have never met her. I only know of her devotion through her blog entries. But every time I read them, I am encouraged, convicted, and challenged. And every time I walk away thinking I want to live like that. And I don't mean that solely in the sense of I want to live in Africa, I mean that in the sense of I want to love Jesus and others like that, to live with this deep, deep desire to make Him famous, no matter the cost to my own life. So because Katie says it better than I can, I'll let her do the talking.
Around here, we live bent low.
Tuesday morning ladies from Masese stream through my front door. We have moved our weekly meeting from the slum of Masese to my living room because I have been up all night with new foster baby and can’t imagine getting all 14 of these little people out of the house. Excited about a change of pace and my sweet friends in my home, I enlist the help of darling Tamara and 13 eager little girls to give these ladies pedicures. We wash and we rub and we paint. I rub lotion into old scarred feet and think of the journeys they have traveled. I whisper thanks for the ways they have blessed me and the things they have taught me, and here in a puddle on the hard tile floor, Joy overflows.
It is on this same cold, smooth tile that I kneel hours later, face inches away from the burn on Makerere’s calf. The stench doesn’t even bother me anymore. And while it looks horrific to outside eyes, I remember what it looked like months ago and ever so slowly, I can see the healing. I can see the healing in the blood red life that spills out as I bandage and in the smiling eyes that tell me stories as I work. Laying on my belly with a surgical blade I scrape out the dead and do my best to preserve the new pink tissue that is starting to form around the edges. He laughs and says, “I have told you now all the stories I have! It must be your turn.” And I tell him a story of a Heavenly King born as a pauper and of a Body broken for me and for him and for each one of us. And I don’t even realize but there are tears on the tile and I sit astonished that messy, inadequate, ungraceful me would get to share such a story.
We sit in the dirt, not worried about the red stains and serve 400 plates of food to sponsored children on Saturday. I look into these faces and remember them nearly 4 years ago, destitute and hopeless and starving. Afraid of my funny white skin. We feed them lunch and we feed them God’s Word and we watch them transform. We feel like family now, no one noticing these skin differences. The suns rays beat down the glory of God and covered in mud and chicken broth I know that this is contentment.
Our family sits on the street corner down town sharing ice cream and laughter. My daughter bends low to offer a homeless man her popsicle and as he cries that no one cares about him she looks straight into his face. “We will be your family,” she asserts, and she means it. We kneel on the pavement and we pray and people stop to look but we hardly notice because we were made for this.
We bend.
I bend to sweep crumbs and I bend to wipe vomit and I bend to pick up little ones and wipe away tears. I bend over a big pot of stew and I bend to fold endless laundry and I bend over math books and spelling sentences and history quiz corrections. And at the end of these days I bend next to the bed and I ask only that I could bend more, bend lower.
Because I serve a Savior who came to be a servant. He lived bent low. And bent down here is where I see His face.
He lived, only to die.
Could I?
Die to self and just break open for love.
This Savior, His one purpose to spend Himself on behalf of messy us. Will I spend myself on behalf of those in front of me?
And people say, “Don’t you get tired?” and yes, I do. But I’m face to face with Jesus in the dirt, and the more I bend the harder and better and fuller this life gets. And sure, we are tired, but oh we are happy. Because bent down low is where we find fullness of Joy.
6.30.2011
6.12.2011
Bed Spectacles
This past week hasn't been a whole lot of fun. My back decided that now would be a convenient time to be in a constant state of pain, leaving me frustrated and limited. For whatever reason, I woke up last Monday morning and pretty much ever since it hurts to do just about anything - walk, stand, sit, drive, etc. Although, as my friend Alex pointed out - it could be worse. This could have happened a year ago when I was moving back from Missouri and getting ready to catch a plane to Africa. Good point, my friend. My cousin and I had plans to go to Kings Island for the day on Friday but I told him there's no way I'm getting on a roller coaster at this point because I'll probably never be able to walk again if I do.
But amidst all the pain, what I have wanted more than anything is a pair of bed spectacles. What are those, you ask? Well, if you have ever seen the movie The Bucket List, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Jack Nicholson wears a pair in the movie and nearly every single time this week when I've been either flat on the floor or laying on my bed trying to watch TV, I always think, "Man, those bed spectacles would be so handy right about now." No matter how crazy they make you look. I mean, who doesn't need a pair of bed spectacles at least once in their life, right? :)
But amidst all the pain, what I have wanted more than anything is a pair of bed spectacles. What are those, you ask? Well, if you have ever seen the movie The Bucket List, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Jack Nicholson wears a pair in the movie and nearly every single time this week when I've been either flat on the floor or laying on my bed trying to watch TV, I always think, "Man, those bed spectacles would be so handy right about now." No matter how crazy they make you look. I mean, who doesn't need a pair of bed spectacles at least once in their life, right? :)
6.10.2011
You Want ANOTHER picture?
Taking photos in our household is an ordeal usually. Every Christmas - and I do mean every - my mother insisted on getting a photo of my brothers and I in the stairwell before we could come down and see our presents. It used to drive us insane - and probably still does if we're totally honest - getting these photos taken. Not because we were in such a sure-fire hurry to get to your presents but because my brothers and I are not fans of making a fuss of things and my mother can be quite the opposite sometimes. Maybe "fuss" isn't the right word. We just don't like having our picture taken, quite simply. It's an extra step we could do without.
However, that inevitable moment comes when I've had to look at my mom and genuinely say, "I'm glad you took all those photos." Trust me, I've had to eat my words on more than one occasion regarding the matter.
But if I didn't like taking photos, then my brothers definitely did not like having their photo taken. For any reason. At any time. But something strange happens when you get married, when you have kids, when you buy your first house. You suddenly want to have your pictures taken and maybe don't mind it quite as much. Because maybe you know how important those photos are and will be.
So, in the spirit of engagements and weddings and all that that entails, my middle brother, Josh, recently had to shoot his engagement photos. An entire photo shoot of just him and his fiancee. The things we do for the ones we love.
But either way, after the shoot ColumbusBride.com picked up a recent article that featured Josh and Megan's photos, their story, and the photographer behind the shoot.
Even before the dress search, cake tasting and honeymoon planning get under way, you and your fiancee likely will head out to pose for an engagement portrait. You'll want some great shots of the two of you to send to friends and family, you'll need a photo to send to local newspapers along with your engagement announcement, and you'll definitely want some keepsake shots that will always remind you of this special time in your life.
For many couples, the engagement-photo session is the first time they've ever posed for an official portrait together. But don't worry — it doesn't have to be a stuffy affair.
"We had so much fun with Courtney on our engagement session," says bride-to-be Megan, who was photographed with fiancee Josh by Courtney Mason of Courtney Mason Photography. "She truly has a talent; we really felt like she captured our love for each other. Courtney captured our personalities perfectly also. We are two country kids who just like to relax and enjoy each other's company." The two were photographed in Homestead Park in Hilliard in late May.
"When I am in a consultation with a prospective client, I always stress how important I feel the engagement session is," says Mason. "Not only is it a great way for them to see how I work and learn a little more about my shooting style, but it is also a wonderful opportunity for the three of us — bride, groom and photographer — to get to know each other better and really grow our relationship."
Megan and Josh met during their sophomore year of high school at a youth group at their church. They dated throughout high school, and though they went their separate ways in college, they always stayed in touch.
Their relationship resumed about a year and a half ago. "I emailed Josh out of the blue to catch up and make amends as friends," Megan says. "We met for dinner shortly after that, and soon realized the romance had never died for either of us."
Josh's proposal was a sweet surprise. "One snowy Sunday evening in December 2010, Josh picked me up for dinner. As he walked me to the passenger side of his pickup truck, he said he had found the pen I lost earlier that week and put it in his glove box. He opened my door and I opened the glove box as soon as I got in, expecting to find my favorite pen. To my surprise and excitement, I found taped to the inside of the glove box two pieces of paper that read ‘I love you Megan! Will you marry me?' with the ring in the ring box propped up next to them. I screamed and smiled and hugged and kissed him like crazy — and finally said yes!"
The couple plan to wed at Darby House on Sunday, Sept. 25. "Our pastor will be coming to perform the ceremony. Courtney is obviously our photographer, and we are so excited! The Darby House and Cameron Mitchell Catering have both been wonderful to work with. We chose the Darby House because it's out quite a ways from city life, yet it is still very classy and elegant," Megan says.
"What we are most looking forward to about our wedding is finally being married and finally being able to start our lives together," she adds. "A love story a long time in the making: 10+ years! But we know the Lord orchestrated every part and we each had a lot to learn before we could learn to love each other the way we needed to."
However, that inevitable moment comes when I've had to look at my mom and genuinely say, "I'm glad you took all those photos." Trust me, I've had to eat my words on more than one occasion regarding the matter.
But if I didn't like taking photos, then my brothers definitely did not like having their photo taken. For any reason. At any time. But something strange happens when you get married, when you have kids, when you buy your first house. You suddenly want to have your pictures taken and maybe don't mind it quite as much. Because maybe you know how important those photos are and will be.
So, in the spirit of engagements and weddings and all that that entails, my middle brother, Josh, recently had to shoot his engagement photos. An entire photo shoot of just him and his fiancee. The things we do for the ones we love.
But either way, after the shoot ColumbusBride.com picked up a recent article that featured Josh and Megan's photos, their story, and the photographer behind the shoot.
For many couples, the engagement-photo session is the first time they've ever posed for an official portrait together. But don't worry — it doesn't have to be a stuffy affair.
"We had so much fun with Courtney on our engagement session," says bride-to-be Megan, who was photographed with fiancee Josh by Courtney Mason of Courtney Mason Photography. "She truly has a talent; we really felt like she captured our love for each other. Courtney captured our personalities perfectly also. We are two country kids who just like to relax and enjoy each other's company." The two were photographed in Homestead Park in Hilliard in late May.
"When I am in a consultation with a prospective client, I always stress how important I feel the engagement session is," says Mason. "Not only is it a great way for them to see how I work and learn a little more about my shooting style, but it is also a wonderful opportunity for the three of us — bride, groom and photographer — to get to know each other better and really grow our relationship."
Megan and Josh met during their sophomore year of high school at a youth group at their church. They dated throughout high school, and though they went their separate ways in college, they always stayed in touch.
Their relationship resumed about a year and a half ago. "I emailed Josh out of the blue to catch up and make amends as friends," Megan says. "We met for dinner shortly after that, and soon realized the romance had never died for either of us."
Josh's proposal was a sweet surprise. "One snowy Sunday evening in December 2010, Josh picked me up for dinner. As he walked me to the passenger side of his pickup truck, he said he had found the pen I lost earlier that week and put it in his glove box. He opened my door and I opened the glove box as soon as I got in, expecting to find my favorite pen. To my surprise and excitement, I found taped to the inside of the glove box two pieces of paper that read ‘I love you Megan! Will you marry me?' with the ring in the ring box propped up next to them. I screamed and smiled and hugged and kissed him like crazy — and finally said yes!"
The couple plan to wed at Darby House on Sunday, Sept. 25. "Our pastor will be coming to perform the ceremony. Courtney is obviously our photographer, and we are so excited! The Darby House and Cameron Mitchell Catering have both been wonderful to work with. We chose the Darby House because it's out quite a ways from city life, yet it is still very classy and elegant," Megan says.
"What we are most looking forward to about our wedding is finally being married and finally being able to start our lives together," she adds. "A love story a long time in the making: 10+ years! But we know the Lord orchestrated every part and we each had a lot to learn before we could learn to love each other the way we needed to."
6.07.2011
The Man in My Life
It's not every day a guy waltzes into my life and offers to walk me out to my car, open the door for me, and then blow me kisses as I'm pulling out of the driveway. Kinda melts a girl's heart.
It's just a little different, though, when it's your 3 1/2 year-old nephew.
You've met Rocco before. He stands about 3 feet tall, weighs 40-some odd pounds, has a shock of red hair, and loves to sing "I Gotta Feeling" by Black Eyed Peas as though he were the lead singer himself. He still claims that I am his best friend and I'm honored with the title.
The boy certainly has his moments when you wonder what sort of crazy energy possesses the child, but for the most part he's a good kid - loud, but good.
The other night I was over to my brother's house visiting with him and my sister-in-law and their three kids. Rocco was just getting out of the bath tub when I arrived and when he came careening around the corner, he looked like he had just been set free from a prison in the North Pole. He had this green and white-striped pajama suit on, with a train embroidered on the front of the chest. My brother had just given him a buzz cut earlier that day so all his beautiful red hair was gone, and was now just a subtle strawberry-blonde.
At one point, the poor kid had to be put in timeout he was getting so wound up and hyper. And as he's sitting in the chair across the room from me, he leans forward and attempts to half-whisper, half-yell, "Tortney. Maybe when I come to visit your house again, just you and me can play a game together." The kid clearly gets tired of having to do whatever his big sister is doing, and wouldn't mind a little attention just to himself. I laughed and told him of course we could play a game together.
He is eventually allowed up and at this point, it's time for me to head home. I go to put my shoes on and Rocco comes running into the room, holding his hand up as though he's out to stop traffic, "Wait, wait! I will walk you out to your car!"
I have never had him make such an offer before so I was little confused as to what was prompting it now, but I told him I'd wait. Well, he just marches over to the door to leave, and I'm like, "Rocco, don't you think you ought to put some shoes and socks on first?" "Oh, yeah, hold on." So then he's scrambling to get his neon-green Velcro-strap sandals on before I can walk out the door without him.
He gets his sandals on, grabs my hand, and out the door we go. Then he races ahead of me so he can open the car door. He started opening the back door first and I told him, no, I'll be riding up front in the passenger seat (my mom was driving). I had already started opening the front door and he stops me again. "No, no! I will open it for you!" The door weighs way more than he does, so he struggles to open it. We finally get it open, he takes a step back, lets me in. Closes the door for me. Walks back down the driveway and is standing there with his mom. He starts blowing kisses and waving to my mom and I. And at first, I just waved, didn't blow kisses. Then he makes this indignant face at me like I better start blowing kisses or else. So I do. Then he gets all bashful and embarrassed, hiding behind his mom. My sister-in-law is looking at us and making gestures like she has no idea where this child came from.
Rocco, you can be my knight in shining armor any day. Green-striped pajamas and all.
It's just a little different, though, when it's your 3 1/2 year-old nephew.
You've met Rocco before. He stands about 3 feet tall, weighs 40-some odd pounds, has a shock of red hair, and loves to sing "I Gotta Feeling" by Black Eyed Peas as though he were the lead singer himself. He still claims that I am his best friend and I'm honored with the title.
The boy certainly has his moments when you wonder what sort of crazy energy possesses the child, but for the most part he's a good kid - loud, but good.
The other night I was over to my brother's house visiting with him and my sister-in-law and their three kids. Rocco was just getting out of the bath tub when I arrived and when he came careening around the corner, he looked like he had just been set free from a prison in the North Pole. He had this green and white-striped pajama suit on, with a train embroidered on the front of the chest. My brother had just given him a buzz cut earlier that day so all his beautiful red hair was gone, and was now just a subtle strawberry-blonde.
At one point, the poor kid had to be put in timeout he was getting so wound up and hyper. And as he's sitting in the chair across the room from me, he leans forward and attempts to half-whisper, half-yell, "Tortney. Maybe when I come to visit your house again, just you and me can play a game together." The kid clearly gets tired of having to do whatever his big sister is doing, and wouldn't mind a little attention just to himself. I laughed and told him of course we could play a game together.
He is eventually allowed up and at this point, it's time for me to head home. I go to put my shoes on and Rocco comes running into the room, holding his hand up as though he's out to stop traffic, "Wait, wait! I will walk you out to your car!"
I have never had him make such an offer before so I was little confused as to what was prompting it now, but I told him I'd wait. Well, he just marches over to the door to leave, and I'm like, "Rocco, don't you think you ought to put some shoes and socks on first?" "Oh, yeah, hold on." So then he's scrambling to get his neon-green Velcro-strap sandals on before I can walk out the door without him.
He gets his sandals on, grabs my hand, and out the door we go. Then he races ahead of me so he can open the car door. He started opening the back door first and I told him, no, I'll be riding up front in the passenger seat (my mom was driving). I had already started opening the front door and he stops me again. "No, no! I will open it for you!" The door weighs way more than he does, so he struggles to open it. We finally get it open, he takes a step back, lets me in. Closes the door for me. Walks back down the driveway and is standing there with his mom. He starts blowing kisses and waving to my mom and I. And at first, I just waved, didn't blow kisses. Then he makes this indignant face at me like I better start blowing kisses or else. So I do. Then he gets all bashful and embarrassed, hiding behind his mom. My sister-in-law is looking at us and making gestures like she has no idea where this child came from.
Rocco, you can be my knight in shining armor any day. Green-striped pajamas and all.
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