One Year Later

It's hard to believe a year has already passed.  I've been reflecting on a lot of anniversaries in recent months - the passing of a friend, the ending of a dating relationship, the beginning of my walk with Christ - and now I look back on my return trip to Kenya, one year ago tomorrow.

With the passing of time has come an overwhelming sense of confirmation regarding my decision to return to Kenya - and to quit my job here in the States in order to stay longer in Nairobi.  There have been no doubts and there has been no second-guessing that decision.  I would do the exact same thing over again if I had the chance.  I was right where I needed to be, even though none of it made any sense at the time.  I felt like I was living in a cloud of confusion, entirely unsure of which way was up, entirely unsure of my what next steps needed to be.  But with time has come gracious clarity.  God has been faithful to pull back the curtain just a tiny bit and help me understand all that happened in such rapid succession last summer.  And for that I am oh so grateful.

I am reminded of Kenya at various times.  I mince garlic and I think of Kenya.  I eat rice and think of Kenya.  I pull Hannah's note out of my Bible and think of Kenya.  I read Ann Voskamp's blog and I think of Kenya.  I eat kale and I think of Kenya.  I buy supplies for an upcoming trip to Guatemala and I think of Kenya, oddly enough.  So many reminders of it scattered throughout equally scattered moments of my life. 

I don't know what it looks like to return to Kenya someday - or anywhere in Africa for that matter.  I know my heart doesn't ache quite like it used to, burning with a desire to set foot on the red clay of Africa again.  And I don't always know what that means, why that feeling has faded.  I know I'll probably go back some day, in some fashion.  I just don't know when and I don't know the reasons why just yet.

But in the meantime, I look back over this past year and marvel.  Marvel at the goodness of God and a time in a faraway land I will forever cherish.          

"A wise man once said that the problem with visiting Africa is that you feel forever an exile after you have left."   - Mark C. Ross

Here I Raise My Ebenezer

"Then Samuel took a stone...he named it Ebenezer, saying, 'Thus far has the LORD helped us.'"  1 Samuel 7:12

Thus far has the Lord helped me.  

This coming Friday, I will raise my own Ebenezer and say, "Thus far the Lord has helped me."  Friday marks 15 years of choosing to follow Christ, of choosing to believe he is worthy of my devotion.  

I remember the moment as if it just happened.  I was standing in the pavilion at Camp Kirkwood in southwestern Ohio.  I had a red track shirt on that I had from running track in middle school.  I had a black pair of soccer shorts on and a really crappy pair of black and red Nike shoes which my family had been begging me to get rid of.  The night's presenters were teaching about the importance of running the race of faith, basing it on 1 Corinthians 9:24-27.  They had several volunteers, myself included, come up and represent the different types of people who run the race.    There are the runners that are standing at the starting line - the race has started but they are just kind of wandering aimlessly.  There are the ones who have also entered the race, but they have so much baggage and so many chains wrapped around themselves they can't even begin to run.  There are those that are just flat out running in the complete opposite direction, far, far away from the finish line.  And then there are the ones who are running the race wholeheartedly, with their eyes fixed on the finish line, fixed on Jesus.

I was picked to represent that last person.

And I remember thinking, "I am the last person who should be standing up here to represent that person."  I was doing anything but running the race.  I was so full of hypocrisy and double-mindedness.  And in that moment, this sudden dawning came over my small teenage mind: I can never bridge the gap.  I can never get from here to God apart from Christ.  I am nothing without Him.  All of my vain attempts, all of my striving, so desperately trying to get my act together in my own strength - it's all futile.  And in that moment, I bowed low and said, "I am yours."

Grace waving farewell.

And while I celebrate the sovereignty and grace of God over these last 15 years, these reflections were made even sweeter when this past Sunday I dropped my own niece, Grace, off to the very same camp, nearly 15 years to the day.  It's her first time to go to Kirkwood, to be away from her family for an entire week, to be on her own.  As my brother Jeremy, Grace and I all drove down to Kirkwood, Jeremy and I swapped stories and rehashed memories, giving Grace tips - things like keep your elbows off the table or they'll make you sing.  Or stay away from the boys' camp.  Or just stay away from boys all together.  Or don't take food into the cabins unless you want critters sleeping with you.  See, Jeremy was there as well the night I accepted Christ, serving as a counselor.  I remember being a sobbing mess in the moment and when I finally bothered to look up and make my way out of the building, I was desperate to find him, to give him a hug.  All the more sweeter then, to come full circle, to set foot on this cherished ground over a decade later, to have my brother back in that same place with me again but then to send my niece off, his daughter, the next generation.  I want her to encounter the same Jesus I met at Kirkwood all those years ago.  He is still alive.  He still sits on his throne.  He still welcomes sinners.

And I still raise my Ebenezer to Him.  Thus far the Lord has helped me.

Thank you, Marshall Segal

As I've mentioned before, this season of life has been all too-sweet for me.  Not because it has been without hard moments, but because it has been so satisfying.  Like deep-down-in-your-gut kind of satisfying.  I'm not one of those girls who laments being single.  I love being single.  And I'm sure one day I'll love being married.    They both have their benefits.  But I don't mourn being single.  I don't wish it away and I don't resent it.  It just is.  And I'm going to enjoy it in the meantime and soak it up.

Marshall Segal echoed those thoughts in his latest blog post on the Desiring God blog.  I think he spoke a lot of wisdom and a lot of truth for those that are not-yet-married.  I remember Jason Illian saying in his book Undressed: Singleness is not a disease and marriage is not the cure.  Amen to that.  Enjoy Marshall's blog and be encouraged, those who are not-yet-married.

If you’re single, Satan is after you.

Okay, he’s after all of us, but there are some unique dangers in singleness — especially in unwanted singleness. He loves to deceive and discourage single people in the church and derail our devotion and ministry. But God intends to use you, your faith, your time, and your singleness in radical ways right now, as you are.

You might come away from a reading of 1 Corinthians 7 with two categories in mind: those who will live, serve, and die single and those who must marry. Paul sings singleness’s praises, listing the spiritual benefits of being spouse-free. The single life can be (relatively) free from relational anxieties (7:32), worldly distractions (7:33), and wide open for worship, devotion, and ministry (7:35). So, Paul concludes, skip the ceremony, literally, and enjoy “your undivided devotion to the Lord.”

Most say, “More power to you, Paul… but I’m getting married.” Maybe temptation overwhelms you, and you need a God-honoring way to satisfy that longing (7:2). Maybe it’s abundantly clear that you need a helper to carry out God’s call on your life (or it’s abundantly clear to others that you do). Maybe you want to have kids and realized that you need help with that. Maybe you just have a deep, undeniable desire for a loving, committed companion. In each case, it is good for you to get married.

While it may seem like two categories at first, we soon discover in application that there are three: the single, the married, and the not-yet married. After all, as any single person knows, a desire for marriage does not a marriage make. My hope in reflecting on Paul’s words is to restore hope and ambition in the hearts of the not-yet married and set them solidly on mission in their singleness.
All Dressed Up and Everywhere to Go

Perhaps the greatest temptation in singleness is to assume marriage will meet our unmet needs, solve our weaknesses, organize our lives, and unleash our gifts. Far from the solution, Paul makes marriage out to be a kind of problematic Plan B of Christian life and ministry. Marry if you must, but be warned, following Jesus is not easier when you join yourself to another sinner in a fallen world.

While marriage may bring joy, help, and relief in certain areas, it immediately multiplies your distractions because you’re intimately responsible for this other person, his or her needs, dreams, and growth. It’s a high calling and a good calling, but a demanding one that will keep you from all kinds of other good things.

Therefore, for the not-yet married, our (temporary) singleness is a gift. It really is. If God leads you to marriage, you may never again know a time like the one you’re in right now. A season of singleness is not merely the minor leagues of marriage. It has the potential to be a unique period of undivided devotion to Christ and undistracted ministry to others.

With the Spirit in you and the calendar clear, God has given you the means to make a lasting difference for his kingdom. You’re all dressed up, having every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places (Ephesians 1:3), with literally everywhere to go.

With God’s help and leading, you have the freedom to invest yourself, your time, your resources, your youth, and your flexibility in relationships, ministries, and causes that can bear unbelievable fruit.

So, here are eight suggestions for making the most of your not-yet married life.

1. Avoid Trading Marital Distractions for Other Distractions
Paul may have been right about our freedom from spousal concerns, but in an iPhone, iPad, iPod, whatever iWant world, single people never have trouble finding their share of diversions. In fact, if you’re like me, you crave diversion and tend to default there, whether it’s SportsCenter, Downton Abbey, working out, fancy eating, endless blogging and blog-reading, surveying social media, or conquering the latest game. We might call it resting, but too often it looks, smells, and sounds a lot like we’re wasting our singleness.

“Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31). Everything just mentioned can be done for God’s glory, and it all can be a dangerous distraction from it. If you deny the latter, you may need to put down the smartphone, controller, or treadmill.

Look for ways Satan might be undermining your mission with short and simple pleasures. You may not need to eliminate it, but limit it and look for ways to welcome others into your life through it. Be creative and make disciples over college basketball, cooking, or Call of Duty, rather than going AWOL from God’s mission because of them.

2. Say “Yes” to the Spontaneous
It’s just a fact, marriage murders spontaneity — not entirely, but massively. If you haven’t learned this yet, I doubt any of your (formerly spontaneous) friends have gotten married.

One of your greatest spiritual gifts as a single person is your “Yes.” Yes to a random phone conversation. Yes to coffee. Yes to help with the move. Yes to stepping in when someone’s sick. Yes to a late-night movie or the special event downtown. You have the unbelievable freedom to say yes when married people can’t even ask the question. When the spouse doesn’t exist, you can’t hurt them with your selfless, impulsive decisions. Be willing to say Yes! and bless others, even when you don’t always feel like it.

3. Practice Selflessness While You’re Still Alone
“Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” Philippians 2:3–4 will only get harder in marriage, so practice now.

Think of a couple people or families for whom you could lay down your single life. No one is expecting you to care and provide for others right now — no one, that is, except for God. So be mindful of the needs of others, especially those in the church, and consider contributing. It could be money or food or just time and energy. Maybe especially time and energy. Regardless of your paycheck, you have been given much. Spend it wisely and liberally on the needs of others.

Financially, you’re supporting just one person. Sure, save modestly for days when you’ll need more, but while you wait, look for ways to provide for others. While you’re not buying groceries for five, dinner for two, and endless diapers, budget to bless and develop attitudes and habits of sacrifice for others. It will serve your future spouse immensely and make Jesus shine beautifully to those around you in the meantime.

4. Do Radical, Time-Consuming Things for God
Just as you are free to say yes to more spontaneous things, you’re also able to say yes to things that require more of you than a married person can afford. Dream bigger, more costly dreams. Start a daily prayer meeting or some regular outreach. Commit to multiple discipleship relationships. Organize a new Christ-centered community service project. Do all of the above. You’d be surprised, with God’s Spirit in you and a resolve to spend your singleness well, how much you and your single friends are truly capable of, especially when you dream and work together.

Be radical, but not reckless. The idea is not to spread yourself dangerously thin, so make decisions prayerfully and in community with people who love you and can tell you, “No.” My perception, however, is that most not-yet-married believers can afford to give or do more than they are.

5. Spend Time with Married People
The longer you’re not-yet-married, the more time you have to learn about marriage from other people’s successes and failures. While you can’t avoid your own set of marital missteps and sins, you certainly can increase the odds of successes, small and large, by being a good student beforehand.

Look for opportunities to be a regular part of a married person’s life and family. If you’re not around enough to see any ugliness or messiness, perhaps you’re not around enough. Don’t impose on people, but don’t be afraid to initiate the conversation, either. It could be as simple as having lunch with them after church on Sundays. Make it easy for them to say yes by being a willing and eager servant. Offer to babysit on date night or help with yard work or bring a meal when one of the kids goes down sick.

Then be a student. Watch carefully. Ask questions. Take notes on what to imitate. In all your observations, be humble and gracious (if you could see your future marriage, this would be less of an issue). As our minds and hearts are being shaped by Scripture for marriage, we need examples of flawed but faithful marriages. These kinds of ongoing relationships make the principles and lessons real and repeatable.

6. Spend Time with Not-Yet Married People
While married people provide an important perspective and example, you need people in your life who are experiencing the same feelings, longings, and temptations you are. You should find and invest in people who are asking the same questions as you and also seeking to make the most of this unique season of singleness for Jesus’s sake.

Think about it, though he was never married, Paul did most of his ministry with someone. Find the trusted, gifted, and mission-minded friends in your life and be accountable to one another to make your not-yet married life matter for the kingdom. Following Christ was never meant to be done alone, even when you’re single.

7. Find a Fiancé on the Front Lines
Instead of making it your mission to get married, make your mission God’s global cause and the advance of the gospel where you are, and look for someone pursuing the same. If you’re hoping to marry someone who passionately loves Jesus and makes him known, it’s probably best to put yourself in a community of people committed to that.

Join a small group, not just a group of single Christians, but one actively on mission together. Get plugged into a ministry in your church that’s engaging the lost in the local community. Focus on the harvest, and you’re bound to find a helper.

8. While You Wait, Hope in Jesus More Than Marriage
Make it true first. Spend lots of time satisfying your soul in all that God has become for you in Jesus. Then be bold to say it when all anyone wants to talk about is your love life. “So, any women in your life these days?” “Are the two of you an item?” “She’s a really great girl. What do you think about her?” “Would you be willing to go on a date with my wife’s cousin’s roommate’s brother?” Married people have lines, too.

Use the awkward small talk as an opportunity to point them to the Groom who purchased your eternal happiness whether in life or in death, in sickness or in health, whether in matrimony or “on the market.”

So when you feel lonely or discouraged in your singleness, remember that if you’re saved, you’re sent. Instead of waiting until your wedding day to get about the work, make the most of this not-yet-married life.

New Favorite Hobby

I think my new favorite hobby may be embossing things.  I have had this painting in my head for months now (probably since last November) and when I tried to hand-write the quote on it, it just didn't look right.  I had never embossed anything before, but I knew in order to get the look right, I would need to figure out how to do it. So I bought some slow-drying ink and embossing powder, thinking I could get away with just using a blow dryer to apply the heat.  Nope.  Needed to find a legit heat gun.  So I've been on the hunt to find a cheap one.  Thank you, JoAnn Fabrics, for having an awesome sale today because I finally found one on sale.  Cost me a whopping $10.  Watched a few how-to videos on YouTube and we are good to go.

I came home and pulled the painting out.  I had already painted the background and the gold lines, it just needed the quote added. I hand-stamped the letters, dumped some embossing powder on it, shook off the excess and applied heat. Voilà.  Okay, so some of my letters and lines are crooked, but in this instance I don't care because I am so jazzed about the final product and the fact that I didn't do something crazy like burn a hole through the canvas on my first attempt.   

This stuff is magic.  And I might be obsessed.  

  

One of my very favorite quotes from The Lord of the Rings. Tolkien originally wrote it in
Return of the King, but when Peter Jackson made the movies, he put it in
The Two Towers.  But who cares.  I love the line either way.

In No Mood for Words

Oddly enough, I have not been in much of a mood to write as of late.  This is a strange occurrence that happens every so often when I am just fresh out of quasi-witty, quasi-profound thoughts or stories to tell.  It can be a bit distressing at times.  I guess you could call it writer's block.  I could probably just call it laziness some days.  I do, however, have pictures and those often more than make up for lack of words.  So, in lieu of words this week, I give you my life recently in photos:

One of the groomsmen in Jeremy and Emily's wedding recommended
I read The Silmarillion by Tolkien.  I'm just wondering how long it will
take me.  The Lord of the Rings trilogy took me about 3-4 months.
Give me about a year and then ask me how far I made it through this book.

Yes, this would be my cousin Christian with Bob Goff at the
Love Does Stuff Conference in Tacoma, Washington last week.
I'm not jealous.

And yes, this would be Christian again with Donald Miller at the
Love Does Stuff Conference.  And again, I am not jealous.  

Christian was kind enough to pick up signed copies of Love Does and
A Million Miles in a Thousand Years for me at the conference, two of
my very favorite books.  The jealousy mildly eased. 

I bought a box set of Passion City Church DVDs.
Thank you, Louie Giglio, for ruining my prayer my life.  I now have no idea
how to pray and I ding myself every time I find myself starting to pray
"Lord, bless this...watch over and protect me...be with me..."  But that's how it should, I suppose.
That I would not mindlessly pray to the God of the universe.
  "Boys Meets Girl" is solid wisdom.  "Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness!"
Haven't watched the others yet.  

My niece Sophie and her dad/my brother Jeremy working on the pulling tractor.
Just by the looks of Sophie that day you would have thought she had spent
more time working on the tractor than the boys did. Grease stains on her
hands. Oil stains down her shirt.  Dirt smudges on her cheeks. Happy as can be.  

I was going back through journals last week. I found this on the very
first page of the first journal I have.  I think we got resolutions 2-4 covered, thankfully.
It's the first and the last ones we are still working on.  Sixteen years later. Obviously
I have never been good at resolutions.  That's probably why I don't make them anymore.

My latest commissioned art project per my sister-in-law's request.
I'd say with 4 kids and baby #5 on the way, that's a fair statement to
make in their household.

Prep list for what, you might ask? Guatemala, silly!  My next overseas
adventure will take me to the hotter-than-blue-blazes location of Guatemala.
I'm headed there in August for a week with a trip my church is taking.  It will be strange
going overseas for only a week.  Packing will be a breeze!

That's all I have for now.  When I find some words worth putting down you'll be the first to know.  Thank you to the 12 people who routinely read this blog and sometimes find me funny.  You do wonders for my self-esteem, even on weeks when I have no words.  

Sweeter Seasons

Some seasons of life are just too sweet to not relish and revel in.  This has been one of those seasons for me.  Maybe not in its entirety, but at least in parts.  

I was re-reading journals from one year ago and I was so overwhelmed by the extravagant grace God had lavished on my life.  It's absurd, really.  I look back over entries from a year ago - a lot of uncertainty about a lot of things, praying for Jesus to show up. Man, did he ever.  And in ways that I didn't even recognize in the moment, but now see so clearly in hindsight.  In my job.  In my adventures to Kenya.  In relationships.  In dreams.  Every prayer I had written down from a year ago, he had clearly answered.     

One reason this season has been so sweet and tender for me is because I have been given a front row seat to the unfolding love stories of three very important women in my life.  I have never been one to be prone to a lot of loneliness or to ever really resent being single.  But that's not to say that I wouldn't hope to someday be married.  It's just that my identity and purpose in life do not hinge on that event.  Whether God ordains some man to come along and be my partner or not will not diminish my pursuit of Him.  But the hard moments have come nonetheless when I would watch other people's stories unfolding and think, "Why them and not me?"  The bitterness and resentment would creep in and I'd find myself forgetting all that God had bestowed upon me. Utter foolishness.  One time in particular was especially difficult.  I watched God pour out blessing after blessing after blessing on one friend.  And I almost missed it all.  I sometimes got so bound up in my own little mind, comparing myself to her, that I nearly missed the opportunity and the privilege to simply celebrate with her and alongside her.  I vowed to never miss opportunities like that again, to not get so consumed by what I didn't have and miss what I did have.  

So in this season when I have a string of friends getting engaged and married, not an ounce of resentment or jealousy has risen in my heart because Jesus has set me free.  Free to celebrate with these amazing women.  Free to enjoy them and to celebrate their stories.  Free to serve them and encourage them in dating, engagement, in marriage.  Just simply free.  Such sweetness and gratitude over that fact.

I was honored to serve as a bridesmaid in my dear friend Emily's wedding a week ago.  And I loved it.  I loved standing up on that stage and hear her singing "in Christ alone, my hope is found..."  Because I know what Em has been through.  We've walked through a lot of seasons together, a lot of seasons of singleness, and I know what the good days have looked like and I know what the bad days have looked like.  I know the smiley days and I know the ugly-cry days.  I know the hope and the longing for someone else to enter into our fears and insecurities and to say "You don't have to face this alone anymore..."  I know when she sings those words, she may be holding the hand of a man she is absolutely wild about, but she is still confidently saying that in Christ alone her hope is found.  

These are the seasons and the friends and the stories I don't want to miss.  What sweet freedom is found in Him.    

           

The Tribe's Trip

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming...

You've met The Tribe before, as well as Twyla, Jonathan's mom.  A week ago we all made a little road trip down to Virginia.  It wasn't even so much a girls' weekend as it was weekend to just get away, for everybody to have their own personal little retreat and to spend some time taking a break and talking to Jesus.  I do believe this little patch of earth where we stayed is one of my very favorite places now.  There is just such a sense of calm, such a sense of God's presence.  It makes it hard to leave.  And the fact there is no cell phone reception boosts its appeal even more in my estimation.  

The grass was just starting to turn bright green and there was a slight hint of leaves budding on the branches.  The creek was flowing rapidly and the weather was absolutely outstanding.  It really is a little slice of heaven.

We drove down late after work on Friday.  We made a few wrong turns in the dark, but we eventually got there.  The burning lights of the cabin were a welcome sign in the pitch black.  There were a lot of holes in the floor of heaven on those nights we were down there, crystal clear skies with stars poking out everywhere.  You could hear the sound of the rushing water down at the creek.  Bliss.

When we got there Friday night, I think we all crashed shortly thereafter, but we made plans to head to Cascade Falls the next morning in order to hike to the waterfalls.  The sunrise Saturday morning had matched the bliss of Friday night's stars and it was a perfect day to go hiking.  We also discovered everyone else had the same idea when we got to the falls, but we were not deterred.  Now, I think you know I don't harbor an overwhelming love toward hiking.  I will argue, though, there really is something in me that feels deliciously alive on little adventures like this.  I do genuinely like being outdoors and I do enjoy some solid physical exertion every now and then - I just don't want to go overboard on that exertion.  My philosophy is contradictory to the phrase "no pain, no gain."  I say "no pain, no pain."  Sounds like a solid outlook to me.

So, off we go.  Twyla stayed at the trail head as Jill, Alex and I set off on our excursion.  Alex enjoys rock climbing and so on occasion, we made pit stops so she could get out her climbing shoes and traverse a few boulders.  The photos below basically outline how the day went.  Since I am behind the camera, imagine Jill is representative of me.    

Alex climbing.

Jill [Courtney] sitting and watching Alex climb.

Alex climbing some more.

Jill [Courtney] sitting and watching Alex climb some more.

Alex still climbing.

Jill [Courtney] still sitting and watching Alex climb.

You get the idea.  I was more than happy to stand on the sidelines to take pictures and cheer on Alex.  I mean, no sense in injuring myself or anything crazy like that.  Somebody has got to walk back off this mountain if she falls and breaks her neck.  I can totally take one for the team and sit this one out.  Besides I needed to hold Alex's engagement ring, make sure it didn't scratched while she was climbing.

We finally made it to the falls and it really was a pretty spectacular sight.  According to the goodness of God, we had this perfect 70-degree day with sunshine that felt amazing on the skin, especially after feeling like I hadn't legitimately seen the sun in about 6 months.  It was enough sun though to give me a decent sunburn on my forehead, nose and ears.  I had these unfortunate tan lines about half-way up my lower arm from only having my sleeves pulled up so far and I had just the top of my forehead burnt due to the fact that my head had been down most of the day staring at the ground, making sure I didn't fall flat on my face.  But if burnt skin is what I have to suffer in order to see God's beauty for a few hours and to enjoy the sun, I'll take it.

I'm not sure what the funny story was, but I love this
picture of Alex laughing.  

After we hiked the two miles in and the two miles out, we headed back to the cabin.  Jill and I crashed on the deck for awhile, and Alex found her own little corner on the black top to bake for awhile.  Of course, the weekend came to an end all too soon as we left Sunday morning to make the trek home.

Alright, now here comes the part that is now funny in hindsight.  I wasn't really laughing or having much of a sense of humor at the time.  And probably still not really laughing about the fall out, but we'll get to that.

We're all four piled into my car to head home.  Another day of great weather.  We enjoy solid conversation along the way, stellar music, and Jill and Alex caught a cat nap or two.  We are nearly home, maybe 40 minutes from Columbus, just south of Circleville.  I pull up to a traffic light on Route 23.  I feel the car lurch and come to a halt and then everything shuts off.  Well, this can't be good, I thought.  I put my hazards on, put it into park and turn the keys off.  I try starting it again and pop it into gear.  Kills the engine immediately.  Cars are piling up behind me in traffic.  I give it another whirl.  Still nothing.  Few more attempts.  Nothing.  Numerous cars are now going around as I'm nearly sitting in the intersection.

At this point, it's obvious we aren't going anywhere.  So then Twyla launches into action and you would have thought we were having a Chinese fire drill.  I pop it into neutral and out piles Jill, Alex and Twyla, all while Jill is scrambling to get her flip flops on before any of us get hit by oncoming traffic.  Out they go and off they start pushing my car into the abandoned BP parking lot.

In the next twenty minutes, I felt like half the town of Circleville showed up.  I was just waiting for the circus tents and elephants to arrive by the time it was all said and done.  Out of nowhere comes this girl named Misty or Missy, I can't remember which.  I really don't know where she came from.  I never actually saw her appear from anywhere.  One minute she wasn't there and the next she pops the hood and starts looking at my engine.  Then appears James, the owner of Captain D's seafood restaurant just down the road.  He looks at the engine.  Misty/Missy disappears, not to be seen again.  James now calls his friend Tommy, who is apparently the scroungiest guy you'll ever meet but knows his cars inside and out.  So then Tommy rolls up in his beat up SUV of sorts, along with three other guys we don't know, most of them in bib overalls with cut-off shirts and a lot of tattoos.  Then Harley from AAA comes rolling in because I had called for a tow.  Turns out Harley knows Tommy, James and just about everybody else that is standing around at this point, so they all start shooting the breeze.  I found out later that Jill had jokingly mentioned to Alex, "I think there are more people here than teeth."  There was probably a lot of truth in that statement.  

I am now officially feeling overwhelmed and I really just want everybody to leave.  Mind you, I haven't showered since sometime on Saturday.  I'm wearing my pajama bottoms that I've had since freshman year of college. I'm sporting a My Little Pony t-shirt.  Zero makeup on and my hair pulled back in a mess of a ponytail.  I am not immediately finding the humor in the situation, considering I had just had my car in the shop days prior specifically for this reason since I was nearing 100,000 miles on my car.  I am not a happy camper.  At one point Jill says, with a sweet smile on her face, "Should I take a picture to capture the moment?"  I must have given her a look that clearly said no.

Tommy wasn't able to do anything so we loaded it up and AAA towed it back to the mechanic shop.  Twyla's husband, Tim, arrives as do my parents and we all finally head home, albeit not quite according to the schedule we had planned.  I fully realize this is totally a first-world-problem of sorts.  It's just a car and nobody was hurt. It could have been a lot worse.  And there were a lot of pluses to the situation:  1) How often do I hoof it all over the country in my car by myself and the one time when it actually breaks down, I'm not only not alone, but have in fact three other people with me to help.  2) It was a gorgeous day, so at least we weren't standing in the rain.  3) We were close to home.  We could have been in Virginia when it happened.  4) Help was readily available in the form of family and a small band of people who were going out of their way to help.

The downside to the situation is that I have to get a new transmission.  But I'll get over it after I cry a few times about the price tag.  But what's a new transmission compared to a sunburn, an invigorating 4-mile hike for which my body paid the price, lazy days spent sunbathing on the deck of my new favorite spot on earth, some amazing company, and some sweet time spent with Jesus, right?

Besides, driving the big white boat of a family van for a few days while your car is in the shop keeps you humble.

Alex, me and Jill.  Twyla was behind the camera,
so unfortunately we don't have a group shot!  Thanks to these gals
I maintained some form of a sense of humor while Tommy/James/Missy/Misty/Harley
all looked at my car and each declared it officially dead.  

                

#PrayForBoston

Allow me to introduce you to my big brother, Josh, my first ever guest blogger.  He's all grown up now and doing very adult things like buying a house, getting married, doing yard work and going to bed at 8 p.m.  

(Sorry, Josh, an old photo.  But it's all I
 could find of us together!)

He texted me the other morning and said he had some thoughts he needed to get on paper to share with others regarding the crisis in Boston, but Facebook and Twitter's character limit would surely cramp his thoughts.  I said I would welcome his thoughts - and my blog could use the boost anyway.  So, allow this brief commercial break to read some thoughts from my brother.  (After that, we will return to our regularly scheduled programming where I will tell you about my adventures of having my car break down in the middle of Route 23, at which point I felt like half the town of Circleville showed up and I was just waiting for the circus tents and elephants to arrive shortly after them.)    

In the hours since Monday's attack the hashtag #prayforboston has been popular on social media. While in every way we should pray for the physical, emotional and spiritual healing of those afflicted I wonder - who are you praying to? 

Too often our society invokes prayer in times of trouble because that's when we are most needy. I wonder how many of those who prayed for Boston Monday night woke up Tuesday morning and prayed a prayer of thanks for another shot at another day. I fear our nation most often prays to a god of convenience and a god of relativity instead of the God of creation, justification, sanctification, salvation and redemption, the one true God.

It is important to tread lightly on a subject such as this as some might read this and think I'm passing off Monday's events or skimming over them, being calloused. I feel it is just the opposite - I want Monday's events to give pause to our prayer life and examine how we go about communicating with the Lord (or THAT we go about communicating with Him at all!).

In addition to praying for healing of those directly impacted, did you also pray for the healing of a nation which has strayed from God all together?

While giving thanks your loved ones were safe, did you add hope for their protection on Tuesday - or did you just spew those prayers Monday in the wake of what happened and hope it was enough?  Did you toss out a few words of prayer as an SOS, hoping that will somehow cover your backside because in all honesty, you don't remember the last time you talked to Jesus?  Did you flippantly cast up a prayer to the heavens, hoping that somebody or something would hear you?  Each day we wake up is a gift and it's an overwhelming thought to know God not only kept this country from more harm yesterday but that in his infinite mercy He chose to do it all over again yet today.

As the moments since Monday have unfolded, our news feeds have filled up with minute-by-minute updates as more information was available in the aftermath. Our country uttered the old faithful cliche "thoughts and prayers" many times throughout that afternoon and evening. Meanwhile, my mind was plagued by the thought that while our media is busy covering this story as headline news - and surely it was - it simultaneously ignores hundreds of other innocent lives lost everyday to injustices such as abortion, human trafficking, preventable diseases and the like. Dear Lord, let us not forget that every day in this country is as frightful as Monday though our media will not cover it!  We must make sure that we are not lulled into a sense of safety and complacency, for surely every day should be spent praying as fervently as we do in times like these.

So I ask - which God are you praying to? Are you looking to a god of convenience and relativity to heal us or to the God of Peace and Justice? What are you praying for? Are you praying for immediate healing so we can go about our lifestyle of instant gratification and self-indulgence or are you praying for a nation to repent and seek the face of a holy and faithful God? Make sure you pray.  But also make sure you know WHO you are praying to and WHAT you are praying for.

It Would Have Been Enough

It would have been enough.

That line is cited over and over and over again in the Jewish tradition of singing "Dayenu," which is the English transliteration of the Hebrew word דַּיֵּנוּ.  The word essentially means "it would have been enough for us," or "it would have sufficed."  During the Seder meal, this song is sung traditionally after the telling of the exodus and just before the explanation of the Passover.  It includes 15 stanzas, and after each line, they speak the word "dayenu."  I first heard Beth Moore explain this content a little bit when she spoke this past January at the Passion Conference in Atlanta, Georgia, and by the time she got done speaking, I was nearly undone as the weight of what all of this meant began to take root in my heart.    

Five Stanzas of Leaving Slavery
1) If He had brought us out of Egypt.
2) If He had executed justice upon the Egyptians.
3) If He had executed justice upon their gods.
4) If He had slain their first-born.
5) If He had given to us their health and wealth.

Five Stanzas of Miracles
6) If He had split the sea for us.
7) If He had led us through on dry land.
8) If He had drowned our oppressors.
9) If He had provided for our needs in the wilderness for 40 years.
10) If He had fed us manna.

Five Stanzas of Being With God
11) If He had given us Shabbat.
12) If He had led us to Mount Sinai.
13) If He had given us the Torah.
14) If He had brought us into the Land of Israel.
15) If He built the Temple for us.

It would have been enough.  It would have been enough if God had done all of these things for us.  It would have been enough for us if He had simply stretched out his mighty hands time and again.  It would have been enough for us if he had pulled us out of the pits we find ourselves in so often. It would have been enough for us if he had kept performing miracle after miracle.  It would have been enough.  

But was it?  Was it really enough just to part the Red Sea?  Was it really enough just to provide the manna?  Was it really enough just to build the temple?  Was all of that really enough?

Because what good are the parted waters if I don't have the Living Water?  What good is the manna from the skies if I don't have the Bread of Life?  What good is the temple if He is not dwelling with me?

I love it when Beth Moore gets to rolling on this particular topic at the Passion Conference. She says, "Jesus knows it would not have been enough.  Oh no, it would not have been enough, had Jesus just been born to a virgin.  It would have been miraculous, but it would not have been enough.  Had Jesus come to speak the very words of God, it would have been the Word made flesh among us, but it would not have been enough.  Had Jesus caused the deaf to hear, the blind to see, the mute to speak, it would not have been enough.  Had he called forth demons from the tortured and oppressed and possessed, no indeed, it would not have been enough. Had he only raised the dead, it would not have been enough.  Had he been scorned, mocked, spit upon, and bruised and not bled one single drop, it would not have been enough.  And let me tell you something, nobody knew that that night [Passover night] better than Jesus, because that particular night was precisely on the calendar for the reason that it was not enough!"     

So, no, it would not have been enough.  And that's why on this day, on "Good" Friday, we look to a cross and we look to a crucified man and we acknowledge that everything from the exodus out of Egypt to the miracle of manna and everything else in between and since would not have been enough.  But God, in his infinite and unfathomable wisdom, grace and sovereignty sent his one and only Son who stretched out his arms and said, "I am enough."

A Home

I remember sitting in the hotel parking lot, staring out the windshield, knowing I would sleep in perfect peace that night, but some woman somewhere was living in utter fear of the night that was to come.  I knew I would go to sleep that night and be free of nightmares.  I knew I would go to sleep and be free of shame.  And I knew some woman somewhere would not have that luxury.

I was spending my Saturday a couple of weeks ago volunteering with an organization called S.O.A.P. - Save Our Adolescents from Prostitution - whose mission it is to distribute bars of soap to local hotels, which list a hotline number a victim can call should she find herself being trapped in human trafficking.  Theresa Flores, the founder of S.O.A.P. and a survivor of human trafficking herself, facilitated the training that morning, explaining to attendees the staggering statistics of human trafficking around the country.  (Yes, it really does happen here domestically.  This isn't some far off third-world problem.  Ohio happens to rank fifth in the nation for human trafficking, with Toledo ranking third.)

The outreach was targeting the Arnold Sports Festival, which was just this past weekend - and it's known to have high amounts of human trafficking.  Any major event where there is a large gathering of people, predominantly men, the numbers spike.  The Super Bowl.  Daytona 500.  The Memorial Tournament.  Republican National Convention.  Democratic National Convention.  Kentucky Derby.  Detroit Auto Show.

But Theresa also explained some of her own story and the stories of many other women she had encountered. And as I was sitting in that hotel parking lot, thinking over all I had learned and thinking of their stories, picturing their faces, J.R.R. Tolkien popped into my head.  Ah, the brilliance of Tolkien at just the right moment.  I thought particularly of the movie The Hobbit.  In the story, Bilbo Baggins is this quiet, unassuming hobbit who really just wants to be left alone to tend his garden, read his books and generally stay far away from adventure.  Through a series of events, he gets wrapped up in this journey with a host of dwarves and Gandalf, the wizard.  The dwarves have lost their land and vast amounts of treasures to the evil dragon, Smaug, and they are on a mission  to get it back.  The dwarves don't really trust Bilbo or really know what purpose he serves on the journey, and at one point their leader, Thorin Oakenshield, questions Bilbo and his motives, to which Bilbo responds:

"Look, I know you doubt me, I know you always have. And you're right... I often think of Bag End. I miss my books, and my armchair, and my garden. See, that's where I belong, that's home. That's why I came back... 'cause you don't have one, a home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can."

And as I sat there thinking, feeling a little overwhelmed by the magnitude of the situation, the horror that 27 million people around the globe are caught up in human trafficking, I thought, "Who am I to do something?  My life has been relatively easy, relatively pain-free.  I don't know what it's like to be kidnapped and forced into sexual slavery.  I don't know what it's like to be blackmailed and brainwashed, thinking my family will be murdered if I ever speak out and try to fight my way out the situation I find myself in.  I don't know what it's like to have my body tortured and destroyed by those that thirst for control, power and lust."  I mean let's be frank here - I'm a young, white, privileged, well-educated, American woman, who in all honesty has had an easy road to walk.  I know that.  And that's just the lie the devil wants us to buy, the lie that because we can't relate or can't fully change the situation, then we just shouldn't bother at all, that we shouldn't get our hands dirty, that it's someone else's problem. Just be quiet...you don't have a voice in this matter.  What do you know?  He's so good at whispering the lies.  

What a load of baloney.       

Yeah, sometimes I want to be like Bilbo and just honestly and selfishly admit, "You know what?  You're right.  I don't always understand.  And I do think of home.  I like my safety and comfort and self-confidence and peace.  That's where I belong."

But I simply cannot leave it there.

Because there is also that moment when I want to say to these women caught up in trafficking, or to the children I have seen face-to-face so often in Kenya, to look them in the eye and say with a touch of fierceness in my voice, "But that's why I came back - because you don't have that. You don't have a sense of emotional safety, you don't have a sense of comfort, a sense of self-confidence, a sense of peace, a sense of dignity, a sense of home.  It was taken from you.  But I will help you take it back."

I will help you take it back.  I will help you take back your dignity.  I will help you take back your confidence.  I will help you take back everything that was ever stolen from you.  And I'm not just talking about tangible possessions here, I'm not just talking about homes and clothes and finances.  I'm talking about the very things that define us at our core, our very identities.  I'm not saying in a I-am-your-hero-here-to-save-the-day kind of way, but in a way where we enter into other people's lives with grace and humility, as their co-equal, not as their superior.  

As Christ-followers, the hallmark of our lives should be the mission to take back that which is lost or stolen.  It should be our mission to restore the years that the locust have eaten (Joel 2:25).  It should be our mission to give people back their dignity and self-worth - whether orphan, alien, widow, man, woman, child.  It should be our mission to reclaim ground that Satan has claimed for himself, for evil.  We should be rising up in righteous anger far more often than we currently are.  Things like this - injustices like human trafficking - need to rub us the wrong way far more often.  It needs to get under our skin.  It needs to compel us to action, not indifference.

The movie Machine Gun Preacher follows the life of Sam Childers, who took a very rocky road to building an orphanage in war-torn Sudan.  At one point he said, "I'm afraid that someday I'll close my eyes to all of this and make it someone else's problem."

Every day we rub shoulders with people who have had their homes stolen from them, so to speak.  It's your job to make these wrongs your problem.  It's your job to make it right.  It's your job to help them take it back.  Even if you have to slay a dragon or two to make it happen.