January 2016 – Made for Eternity

Out on the Water

Well, here I am in Nicaragua, sipping delicious Ethiopian coffee that was roasted in Kenya and given to me by my parents in Minnesota. This coffee has come a long way, needless to say.

So have we. Cassie and I arrived in Managua on Friday night, were picked up by our hosts, Julio and Narlly, who drove us here to Ciudad Dario, which will be our hometown until December.

The Lord has blessed me immensely with familiarity at every turn. From the beautiful vegetation and mosquito nets to the bumpy dusty dirt roads and diesel engines everywhere, this place reminds me of Kenya. Even on the other side of the world, there is a level of comfort to be found in the sights, sounds, and smells of this place. I’ve lived like this before.

Not that it’s easy. The sudden intense weather change has been draining. We left in the snow and arrived to 90 degree temperatures on Saturday. The language barrier is challenging, for both of us in different ways. There are still a lot of unknowns and innumerable cultural adjustments.

This morning I read the story of Peter stepping out of the boat on to the stormy sea to walk to Jesus. He sank, not because he was in the wrong place, or out of God’s will, but because he took his eyes off the Savior. And yet Jesus, in His infinite love and grace, was instantly there to rescue him as soon as Peter cried out.

Getting on the plane and flying here was stepping out of our Milwaukee boat in simple obedience. Now we are on the water. The waves are rolling and it’s windy, but we know our Savior is here, His strong hand stretched out and ready to sustain our hearts.

Hebrews 12:2-3 “looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls.”

A Small Little Life

For obvious reasons, my prayer life lately has revolved around the impending move down to Nicaragua. Incredibly enough, it’s the day after tomorrow. In my prayers, I usually end up in the same place, partly incredulous, partly in awe.

Why me?

I’m completely ordinary. In fact, I’m a wimp. I’m small and weak. I have little strength and stamina. I wear out easily. I don’t do well in heat. The list could go on, but you get the point. Humanly speaking, if you were going to choose someone for this particular mission venture, it wouldn’t be me. It’s kinda ridiculous, honestly.

Yet, somehowly (as they say in Kenya), God has made it abundantly clear that it is me.

And Hudson Taylor’s assessment of himself comes to mind: “I think that God must have been looking for someone small enough and weak enough for Him to use, and that He found me.”

Amen, brother. Because in the end, it’s not about us, our qualifications, or our glaring lack thereof. We all live small little lives. But a small little willing heart is a gracious instrument of choice in the hand of our great big God.

2 Corinthians 12:9 “And He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”

A New Path

Kijabe Forest

When I was a girl growing up in Kenya, I loved exploring the forest, trying to get “lost” and then finding a new route home (or creating my own). I suppose I had a touch of the pioneering spirit back then.

These days, I tend to prefer the well worn trail, the one without hidden roots, encroaching thorn bushes, or face-level spider webs that suddenly appear out of nowhere.

God has different ideas, to say the least. He’s taking me off my familiar comfortable road and setting me off on a whole new path. Unknowns abound. But I know Him, and He will be with me all through the journey. (Psalm 9:10 “And those who know Your name will put their trust in You; For You, LORD, have not forsaken those who seek You.”)

I wrote this poem (technically a sonnet) several years ago, and it seems to perfectly fit my new situation.

This Way

Joshua 3:4 “…you have not passed this way before.

Dear one, you have not passed this way before;
Lean hard upon My gracious, loving arm.
I know the path, and you can rest assured
I’ll keep you safe from every fear and harm.

Don’t try to light your own flickering beam,
Or plunge ahead into the night alone.
No good has ever come of all your schemes,
Or anything you’ve done that’s on your own.

I am the only Light you’ll ever need –
Remember that, with ev’ry twist and turn.
Then as you rest, I promise I will lead,
And teach you all the things that you must learn.

In joy and pain, you’ll ever be secure,
Although you have not passed this way before.

(Photo credit: The Kijabe Forest Trust)

Bounding Along the Path

“We begin to calculate about the sacrifices, the hindrances, and the difficulties, instead of bounding along the path, in eagerness of soul, as knowing and loving the One whose call has sounded in our ears.” – C.H. Mackintosh

My life changed on April 28th of last year. A few days earlier, my friend Cassie had texted me that she wanted to talk to me about a potential ministry opportunity. OK, I thought, probably a friend is in need, or she wants to go witnessing down by the lake or something.

Nope.

“So, do you want to move to Nicaragua with me for a year?” she asked that spring evening as we hung out in our friend Emily’s living room.

Wait, whaaaaaat? I actually started laughing. “Seriously?!!!”

Yep.

That was weird, because I really thought I understood God’s trajectory for my life. I had been receiving ministry training in my local church. I worked in the school system in Milwaukee, so I have my summers off. I had spent a wonderful 7 weeks volunteering at a mission in Alaska in 2014, and was scheduled for 9 weeks there in 2015. The combination of evangelism and interaction with people from all over the world was right up my alley. And if the Lord ever led away from that, I figured I could always spend my summers in Africa where I had (hint hint) grown up. Perfect, right?

Central America was never on my radar. I assiduously avoided Spanish in high school and college, and only dabbled in it when I switched positions to work at a school in the Hispanic area of Milwaukee. I thought it was wonderful when our church supported short term trips to El Salvador and Nicaragua, especially when Cassie got to go as a translator for the team. How nice. It just wasn’t for me.

Until April 28th, when God suddenly dropped it in my lap.

The “buts” began echoing in my head immediately. I was in my 3rd year in my dream job, working exclusively with 3 and 4 year old kiddos. I had a wonderful church family. My roots in Milwaukee were a decade deep; I’d lived there longer than anywhere else in my life. I had summers off for ministry trips. I still had school loans. I’d just signed a new lease on my apartment. I had a car. I had stuff. I had a plan.

My plan didn’t include moving away from the comfortable life I’d carved for myself in the middle of a school year to work at an academy in a country where I had never felt an urge to visit, I didn’t speak the language, and I didn’t have the foggiest idea about the culture.

The Apostle Paul in Acts 20:24, said, “..nor do I hold my life dear to myself, so that I may finish my race with joy…” Our problem is that we don’t realize how dear we are holding our life to ourselves – at least I didn’t – until God gently pries our fingers off our comforts and our unadmitted idols and our ideas of how life should be and says, “That’s not for you anymore.”

And that’s where faith begins. No calculating. No manipulating. Just bounding along the path with all the eagerness we can muster, for the Master Maker of Paths is also our wise, tender-hearted, infinitely trustworthy Father.

Throughout the next several days and weeks, Cassie and I talked, prayed, and sought counsel. The Lord began to open door after door for this unexpected new path He has set us on. He’s worked in amazing ways, large and small, to bring us to the point where we are less than 3 weeks away from flying to Managua. It’s been quite the ride already; I can’t imagine what it will be like when we actually get there.

But we know that He will be there. And isn’t that all that really matters?