As He Answers

I stood there at the foosball table, eyes roaming over the building scattered about with children playing, laughing... being engaged in activities. And as I waited for the next person to come along who would claim my attention, I prayed.

Leading up to this day, we had been told to pray constantly for these kids who were coming for the first time to this ministry.

So I sat there, bathing each precious face in prayer and begging Him to act on His promise of a future and a hope, of good and not evil.

And as I stood there, I heard the words.

Words mingled with music, laughter, shouting, words of instruction.... words that meant so much.

"I called, You answered. And You came to my rescue and I wanna be where You are..."

Repeated over and over and over.

Speaking of the power of One who does listen to prayers, but, even more, answers them. And even though these kids have been placed in a situation that seems desperate.... He knows.

He cares.... He loves... He answers.

And as I'm gone, and am physically too far away to lift up each face and to see that smile, and to shiver with joy inside at the beauty that He's made... I'm never too far away to pray.

I sit here, remembering all that has gone on... thinking with incredulity that two weeks ago, I was there.

And as He answers prayer about this summer, about who He is, about people that are close to my heart... He also answers my prayer for these ministries, for those godly people, for those children still there.

I'm learning a little bit day by day, what "pray without ceasing" means.

What talking, conversing, sharing, laughing at quirks, rejoicing... every moment... means.

And I'm learning how much He loves to hear my voice.

He loves to hear yours, too.

I can just imagine the smile that comes to His face when we bring Him the beautiful, the ugly, the snarls, the sweet sorrows, the pain.... our lives.

And I can just imagine Him saying in a voice just above a whisper, "My precious one... I love to hear you speak. To hear you say that your heart rejoices in what I have made, to hear it break for others less fortunate than you. But know... I made them, too. So don't worry.... I've got it covered."

So, although I remember their faces, I also remember that they are even more ever-present in His mind.

And I can let go of any worries that I hold.

And pray... knowing that He will, He does, He is going to... answer.

In Feeling Lost

I was heading out the door the other day when I heard their voices.

Voices speaking what may seem like gibberish until placed into the right context.

"J 10"
"Miss! How about I 5"
"Hit! No fair!"

And as I closed the door behind me and began walking through the semi-wintry world to a friend's house, I felt a common bond with that game of Battleship being played.

You know that feeling when you hit one of your opponent's ships and then spend the next few turns destroying it?

Well, that's what it felt like to be in Colombia. Not the destroying part, but the sense of purpose, of having your next turn planned out.

You know that feeling when you just finished destroying someone's ship and then you spend the next few turns floundering around the board, trying to find another one to destroy?

Well, that's what I feel like right now. As if I don't have a solid purpose or reason to fulfill each day and that I'm just floating about doing whatever needs to be done, but not accomplishing anything concrete.

And as I was feeling this way, I flipped open my Bible, and it opened to Isaiah 56:1-2:

"Be just and fair to all. Do what is right and good, for I am coming soon to rescue you and to display my righteousness among you. Blessed are all those who are careful to do this. Blessed are those who honor my Sabbath days of rest and keep themselves from doing wrong."

It was if He was saying: "Do the little things. Lay a firm foundation. I will reward your faithfulness with bigger things. Right now, be strong and faithful in whatever I place in your way."

I may not have a big project or "mission", but I do have the words and commandments that He has given me through His Word.

So, right now, even when I am feeling lost, I find myself on the firm foundation of obeying what He has given me.... and waiting for more.

In the Panic

It was just hours after I had arrived home, and I had already unpacked a few souvenirs and momentos and was explaining them, when I got around to my bracelets.

One, with the colours of Colombia, a parting gift from Golden Rule, a school that we taught at for two days, and the other, of green leather, with stamps that resemble hearts.

And as I pulled up my sleeves to display them, my heart leaped.

One was there... the other was not.

The absence of the green bracelet instantly started a search through my suitcase and then through my backpack. Running through my mind was: I took it off at the hotel... in Toronto. What if it's still there? Please, please, please, please, PLEASE let it be here somewhere!

And the panic set in and I searched through my bags again, before my gem of a sister asked me if it might be in my pant's pocket. And it was!

The relief that poured through me as I pulled it out, put it on, and had it tied by someone else felt so sweet.

I had been so afraid that this memory of the trip, the person it represented, the things that it reminded me of, would be gone. Forever.

And I know that many of you are waiting for blog posts about Colombia, and I promise... they are coming.

But my first thoughts as I landed on Canadian soil were: I don't want to forget this... any of it. The amazing lessons God's taught me, the people I met, the places I went, the changes that I need to make personally, etc.

It's only been three days... but it's fading. And I want so much for it to be right here and real to me. I'm panicking that some parts will be lost forever... just like I thought that bracelet would be.

I want so desperately to have every aspect of the trip reflected in my life, but I'm scared that I will fail. Big time.

But at the same time that I feel like dreading, I know that He has accomplished some amazing things in my perspective and views through this trip... and His Word speaks to me, telling me, again and again, that it's not about me at all.

"And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns." Philippians 1:6 (NLT)

Through Him, my life will show changes (as long as I help out!).

Through my weakness, He is strong.

And there is no need to panic anymore.

In the Deja Vu

As I'm packing up, stuffing things into nooks and crannies and checking my list twice, the sense of deja vu hits hard.

The very last time I was on an airplane was arriving in Calgary after flying home from Cameroon because of a medical emergency.

And it feels so wrong to be packing up and getting ready to board a flight headed somewhere other than Cameroon.

It took me awhile to get over my feelings of doubt.

Doubt that this trip will impact me in a huge way because of my past.

Doubt that I would be shocked by children scavenging in the gutters and people scraping a living off of the streets.

Doubts that I would learn to love another third world country.

Doubts that He's shown me are so unfounded and ridiculous when compared to the hugeness and awesomeness of who He is.

And I am still scared that going through this process will bring up that longing. Longing to go to my other home, to be surrounded by all the things that I hold dear.

I don't want to re-say everything I said back then... so just read it.

But He's greater than any longings or any doubts.

And I know that He will also implant in me a longing to make Colombia my home, to be able to stay and love these people with the fullest extent of my love.

And through all of this, I'm learning that my longing should be for Him, above all.

But also, for wherever place that He has called me to share His love.

And even though I have memories, I'm heading out the door to create new ones.

Please pray... and get ready for some blog posts once I get back! :)

Through a Blessing

I opened up my e-mail this morning and found it sitting there.

A small note from my earthly father who is in Europe right now.

And as only one who has been with me from my very beginnings can write, he wrote:

To my own Christa-belle,


Just wanted to bless you with this blessing as you head out to Colombia tomorrow!


May God's love shine brightly through you
 may you take risks
  may you be pushed out of your comfort zone to find your strength in Him and not in the amazing talents you already possess
    and may your choose love over safety, service over comfort, and
      may your heart be broken by the things that break His heart.


I love you very much!


Dad

And these words speak to my heart, so much so that I find tears welling up in my eyes.

Because that's what I've been afraid of these past few days with the time ticking and my heart feeling so unprepared.

I've been scared that I would not let myself be hurt, because of how my heart still hurts for another country that is dear to my heart.

I've been scared that I wouldn't knowlingly let my heart get attached because of the ripping-away that comes later.

But as I read those words, I recognize that it isn't about me in the least.

It's about Him.

It's about how He can take this crumbling mess of doubts and confusions and transform it into a creation that glorifies Him in every action every day.

It's about how He works through  my weaknesses to showcase His strength.

And since it's all about Him, I have nothing to fear.

Absolutely nothing.

Because He will not change, and He will not fail.

And it's all about Him.

In the Little Things

As the plane flight to Colombia approaches, I find many things swirling through my head with nowhere to roost. It seems like I fight through a daily mist of misgivings, hopes, dreams, confusions and information without a resting place.

But He speaks to me even through this numbness.

His sunshine truly does pierce through the gloom.

And He speaks to me in the gifts of a little one, who with smiles and hesitations presents me with his offering.

And what an offering it is.

Through his simple scrawl and hastily folded paper, my heart sees his innocence and rejoices in the gift that He has made this one child to be.

Then, later, when I am writing a return letter... one that will go through the "real mail," He shows me how little gifts brighten everyone's day, and that the little things are most often the things that He shines through.

He doesn't call me to be big, powerful, holding everything together during these hectic upcoming months.

All that He expects me to be is a little light, shining for Him wherever I go.

And as the wherever-I-go part gets put to use in the next few days, He's showing me that it may not be about some amazing revelation that He will impart to me.

It may be something small.

But that would be the best of all.