Resolutions Just Don't Work For Me!

"Good habits are not made on birthdays, nor Christian character at the New Year. The workshop of character is everyday life. The uneventful and commonplace hour is where the battle is lost or won." --Maltbie Babcock

New Years resolutions are on everyone's mind. I wish mine from the past had magically changed me--and I could say that I had completed all of them successfully. Eat way more vegetables--CHECK. Read my Bible more than I watch TV--CHECK. Less Computer time--CHECK. Organize my meals each week--CHECK.

Nope--can't really say CHECK on any of the above. I just don't think I operate very well using the resolution technique to change my life.

The problem for me is that it is so all or nothing. If I mess up--just one day out of the year--I feel as if I have failed. And if I have failed, I feel like giving it all up.

A better way for me is to look at my life through God's eyes--rather than through the grid of the "all-or-nothing" grid of the resolution. God looks for progress, never expecting perfection, but success comes in progression.

I guess that is why I like the quote that I copied and pasted above. Someday, my character will not be based on the resolutions that I made and later failed. Rather than making rules for myself that I can never keep, I hope to walk more with God--each second of the day, so that I can show grace to those He puts in my path, extend forgiveness when it seems humanly impossible, take care of my body each moment when I know I shouldn't be eating through my anxieties and stresses, and spend time with the Lord--not because I have made a rule at the beginning of the year, but for the sole reason that I just want to spend time with my Father who loves me.

My New Year's Resolution? Walk with God each moment of this year, 2010, and when I don't, and I mess up?--yes, this will happen umpteen times--look to God, ask for His forgiveness, and continue forward.

Winter Snow

Luke 2:6
While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

Friends went to the Chris Tomlin concert, and afterwards, I listened in as they recapped it. One of the highlights was a song called Winter Snow, sung by Audrey Assad. I looked it up on YouTube--found it.

The next day we had a snowfall of 10 inches or so. Tuesday night, when Mark and I came outside after our journey group--(Home teams), the snow falling was so beautiful, with huge snowflakes silently falling onto everything.

I recalled the song I had looked up earlier in the day. In the song, Jesus's arrival on earth was likened to a gentle, quiet snowfall. Isn't that amazing--the God of the universe, the creator of you and me, who has more power in His little pinky than we could ever witness or imagine, chose to arrive in a quiet, obscure, humble way.

I hate to say it, but if I was God--and I was coming to earth to save humankind--I would have chosen an arrival with fanfare and "Hey, Look at me--I am coming to save you wretched little humans. How dare you not notice my arrival!" (I am very thankful that He is God--and I am not.)

I don't know about you, but one of my biggest weaknesses is my need to be noticed. "Hey, I did something good here--check it out!" Humbleness, not so much.

So that is why it is so amazing that God was so very patient--knowing His time to be revealed would come later, in His perfect plan.

The Almighty, All-Powerful God chose to contain Himself in the most helpless being possible, and He chose to make His arrival in a humble barn, with animals being the first to see Him in person.

That is truly a Christmas miracle. Check out the song I was writing about earlier. I will never look at snow the same way again.

He Just Wants to Spend Time With You!

Last night, while I was breaking bread and eating soup at Panera's with a dear friend, she shared the truth with me that God desires relationship with me over the trivial activities that I do for Him.

As we looked out the window and watched the snow falling to the ground, we laughed at the comparison of ourselves to little ants, busily hurrying and scurrying around DOING 'great' things for our God. As if God is actually so relieved when He sees what we do--knowing that He would never be able to accomplish these things without our help. How absurd!

The all-powerful, mighty God needs nothing of our works for Him, He only desires relationship with us.

The cool thing about it is that He chooses to allow us to help Him where He is already working.

Kind of like when my kids were toddlers and I let them pull up the kitchen chairs around the mixer as I made peanut butter cookies. Could I have made the cookies faster without them? Yes. Would it have been a more peaceful activity doing it by myself? Most definately. Could I have made those cookies with less chance of the batch being botched up?

Oh, that reminds me of the time when all three kids had their chairs pulled around the mixer. I had given each child their turn in pouring in an ingredient. It was one of those hallmark moments that my kids would someday thank me for in a Mother's Day Card.

Then--my almost 2 year old youngest daughter opened up the junk drawer--quicker than I could realize what she was doing, she proceeded to place 3 Christmas tree lightbulbs into the batter as the beaters were agitating quickly.

Our cookies quickly turned into a science experiment--what happens when you put 2 green and 1 red bulb into peanut butter dough while mixing? We still laugh about that now.

I didn't let the kids help me make cookies because I needed their help--I let them help me because it was something we could do together. I cared about spending time with them--and I valued that over getting the cookies done.

(I wish I got that message then--during the time I was throwing the dough with the shards of glass away--all while my son was asking if we couldn't just pick out the pieces and it would be all good.) I was ticked--and exasperated like I was so often as a young mom staying home with kids all day.

But God, on the other hand, is the perfect parent. He really just allows us to help Him--even if we mess things up a bit--all for the reason that He values a relationship with Him. That is so cool.

Do You Want To Be On My Team??

The world will know we are christians by our love. It's a song--most of us are familiar by it, but I have been convicted by it. God wants to use the church to bring people to Him--and instead, it seems like people look at the church as a reason to stay far away from Him. We've been hurt--talked about--ignored--excluded--judged, and the people outside the church have experienced the same things, and they don't want any part of it.

I am thinking that that breaks God's heart. At times, I tend to be an island. Thinking that being a christian is just about having a relationship with Jesus--and then He will 'work' on me, and then maybe I can go out into the world and tell someone else about Him.

I am missing the point--and I really am a pretty relational person--but only up to a point. The old Simon and Garfunkle song comes to mind...

A winter's day
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

Don't talk of love,
Well, I've heard the word before.
It's sleeping in my memory.
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I wonder--does the world see us loving one another--so much so, that they want to be apart of it all?

Are we such a team, that we would do anything God asks us to, for one another? Or are we caught up in our own dramas with one another?

I watched a Francis Chan message/podcast. He talked about this issue and compared it to a few years back when Koby Bryant and Shaq were playing for the Lakers. They had so much talent. They should have won the championship, but they were too preoccupied fighting with one another. They were too involved in their own drama--that they forgot there was something big happening--like the possibility of the TEAM winning a championship.

Good analogy--I think. Am I too occupied with my own personal dramas. Am I worrying about how someone has hurt me and refusing to forgive? Am I too busy looking at other's faults--thinking they are harming our reputation, and ignoring the huge plank in my own life? Am I forgetting about what is really supposed to be happening--the big show, and not my little puny drama?

Do those who have yet to believe know I am a christian by the way I love other christians? When they come in our churches--do they feel that we authentically care about each other--and are they just yearning to be apart of our family or are they finding more community, love and caring at the corner 'Cheers' bar or athletic gym?

Not sure how to end this post...I need to spend some time on my knees.

Setting Up the Tree--09

Years ago, Mark and I use to talk all big about when our kids would leave the nest--and how we would be doing high fives and breaking out the cotton candy and ponies. (That is what we would jokingly tell our kids we did when they were sent to bed.)

Now that we are getting closer to that flying the coop day, I am not feeling as strong--in fact, last night I had a bit of a melt-down.

The Christmas tree was up--thanks to Mark--and wrapped properly and abundantly with lights. Usually, the next step would be that everyone would break out their own boxes of ornaments--and while we ate chili, hot chocolate, etc. the ornaments that the kids had received each year were placed on the tree. Usually this involved playful reminiscing and lighthearted arguments. I love that sound of us just being a family.

When the kids were little, I would have to move the ornaments after they went to bed because they were all concentrated on the lower limbs--and they were never evenly spaced out.

Other times, I would complain to Mark that it was impossible to keep a 16 month, 3 year old and 5 year old from rearranging the ornaments constantly. Then there were the times when they would take their Star Wars figurines and play hide and seek with them among all of the ornaments. One year, Luke Skywalker almost made it into the Christmas tree box!

To tell you the truth, I really miss those days.

And that brings me to my meltdown. We could not find a time when everyone was at home. Between work, hanging out with friends, dates, etc., there was no time during the holiday weekend for everyone to work on the tree together. I had to talk them into at least hanging up a few of their favorites before they left the house.

Then, Mark and I were hanging up the rest of the kids ornaments--and as I hung up the "Baby's 1st Christmas--89", Ballet Bear, and "Strawberry Shortcake Baking Cookies," I got kind of weepy. Well, not really 'kind of.'

I am not gonna lie--I didn't much like it and I told Mark that I am not sure I am ready for just me and him!

I know I have 2 years before the last kid is officially off to college--I sure hope that is enough time for me to prepare for the next chapter. I better get right on that!

Give Me Your Eyes...

These books keep getting placed into my path. Books that take me out of my reality and place me in a spot that enables my empathy to expand. One of those books that I have read lately is What Difference Do it Make? This is the follow up book to Same Kind of Different As Me.

Continuing the hard-to-believe story of hope and reconciliation, Ron Hall and Denver Moore, "unlikely friends and even unlikelier coauthors--a wealthy fine-art dealer and an illiterate homeless African American--share the hard-to-stop story of how a remarkable woman's love brought them together."

The mark of a good book is one that after closing the cover for the final time, I am changed. I see my world differently because I spent a little time looking through the eyes of someone much different from myself.

Both of these books gave me new insight and compassion for the homeless. They don't need our sympathy--they don't need us to be their rescuer, giving hand-outs when it is convenient. Homeless individuals need relationships that give dignity and point them to hope.

Check it out--and let me know what your thoughts are!!

Rainbow

I really wish I had my camera with me today. I was pulling weeds in some flower beds--it started to rain and I saw the most beautiful rainbow, ever!

Instead of going inside during the rain, I decided to put on a raincoat and stay in the elements.

This is the lesson learned--In order to see a rainbow, you need to stay out in the rain.

I know--it sounds like a hallmark card--all sappy and obvious.

Just realized that if it wasn't for the rain--bad times in our lives, we would never see the rainbow, ie. hope.

So, if you are going through storms--hang in there, the hope is just ready to pop up over the horizon.

Alright--Hallmark moment is over!

Painted Lines and Cement Handprints

Yesterday, as I was running, I noticed that there were orange cones on the middle line on the road. The lines were fresh and dark yellow--they had just been painted.

As I had hit my half way mark, and it was time to turn around to go home, I looked both ways to see if it was okay for me to cross to the other side of the road. While running over the freshly painted lines, I had a quick urge to brush my running shoe across the wet paint--just to see if I could make my mark. Then the next thought--every time I pass this as I am driving, I could see where I had been!

I am very pleased to report that I resisted the urge to mess up the line and create an act of vandalism. But...

Why does my mind work the way it does? Why do I think the things I do?

That made me think about the time when I was kid and was able to press my hand into new cement. Why do we have a desire to do these things?

I think it may be the same reason that a toddler gets naughty and noisy while mom is talking on the phone--and the same reason that a teenage girl gives away more of herself than she intended.

God placed in all of us a desire to MATTER. We all want to look upon this work and say--"I existed, I was loved, I mattered, I had a purpose--I was HERE."

God must have placed that desire in us so we would search for Him. Because it is only through Him that we find our purpose. It is through Him that we feel special and chosen.

I can still feel those butterflies in my stomach as I waited to see when I would be picked in gym class and whose team I would be on. Nobody wanted to be that default team member that had to be picked--just because they were the only one left. (Gym teachers--Please find a different way for team picking!!)

The good news that I am thinking on today is that I matter, and you matter, too. I have been chosen and I am accepted--and that acceptance does not depend on anything I have or haven't done on this earth. Unconditional love and acceptance is a good gift from my Father!

The LOOK

I find this really funny. Just a little laughter for the day!

Religion or Relationship?

Once again, I must confess, I have been feeling rather dry in my walk with God. Going through the motions--praying, reading my Bible, going to church, etc. Those things are all good disciplines, but it is all about my attitude and my motives.

Why am I doing what I am doing?

If I am engaging in these routines because of a sense of duty, have to-ness it becomes nothing more than religion.

If I am spending time with God through His Word and prayer because of the love that He has for me and that I then can have for Him it is about a relationship with the Creator of the Universe.

Checking my motives and reasons for doing what I am doing...

I found this poem on another's blog--kind of summed it all up for me.


Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too well pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we have dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.


Disturb us, Lord, when
With the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.


Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wider seas
Where storms will show your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.
We ask You to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push into the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love.
[Sir Francis Drake)

Fearless

The earliest memories I have as a child involved fear. It had a stronghold on me for many years--paralyzing my thoughts and actions and keeping me at arms length from those that loved me--especially my God.

Here are some quotes from Max Lucado's newest book, Fearless.

"Fear may fill our world, but it doesn't have to fill our hearts. It will always knock on the door. Just don't invite it in for dinner ... Let's embolden our hearts with a select number of Jesus' "do not fear' statements."

"We can fear less tomorrow than we do today."

"Fear, mismanaged, leads to sin. Sin leads to hiding. Since we've all sinned, we all hide, bot in bushes, but in eighty-hour workweeks, temper tantrums, and religious busyness. We avoid contact with God."

"Parents, we can't protect children from every threat in life, but we can take them to the Source of life. We can entrust our kids to Christ."

Fear doesn't have the same hold over me that it did as a child, teen, young adult, wife and mother of three little ones, then mother of teens--at times it can come blasting back, full force in an avalanche of anxiety, but if I take my eyes off the source of my worry, and put them on the Source of my strength, everything falls into proper perspective. This may well be why Romans 8:28 is my favorite verse in the Bible.

Higher Hope--Book Review

This has not been a summer of reading--and I have really missed laying on the deck, in my hammock with a good book, but because we ended up driving 20 hours during this weekend taking Kyle to and from school, I finally finished my book for the book review bloggers. Higher Hope, by Robert Whitlow, is the 2nd book in the series, A Tides of Truth.

Written "in the tradition of John Grisham, combining compelling legal and ethical plot lines...but Whitlow has explicit spiritual themes."

Following a young legal clerk, Tami Taylor struggles with the legalistic religion that she experienced at home as it conflicts with the grace, mercy and hope that relationship with God offers.

To tell you the truth, I didn't care for this book at all. The legal drama seemed to drag, leaving the plot uninteresting, and I found the characters underdeveloped and simplistic. I really didn't care about them--and I never found myself lost in the pages, as I do when I am really enjoying a book.

Just my opinion...

One Team

Ok--I have a few more posts on Kenya that still need to be written. (Maybe more--I am not making any promises!)



While talking to a teenager at Vipingo, I asked her what were her impressions and thoughts on Americans. She said that she thought that they were all very good people. I quickly set her straight.



While in Kenya, most of the children wanted to be close to us, and all the time we were driving around the cities, I rarely viewed any animosity on people's faces as the "van full of white people" drove by.



I suppose most of the children saw us--and then made a judgement on Americans--in general. So I guess in some ways we were ambassadors for USA.



I wish and hope it was different than that, though. I really pray that when the children played with us and received the love that we gave them that we were able to represent Jesus. I would much rather be an ambassador for Christ.



I do pray that some day, maybe when these children are much older, that they can look back at memories of the visitors that came to their school--and they won't think of them as 'white people', or even 'Americans', but as Christians.



One of the Kenyan pastors--maybe it was Pastor John, but I am not sure, said that he hoped that the children would stop seeing the different color of the skin, but see only one race--the human race. I wish the same for children in America.



The schools and churches that have been built by Fox River Christian Church are staffed by passionate, Kenyan Christians who are awesome ambassadors for Jesus. It was wonderful to be working with them--side by side--on the same team, if only for a few weeks.

Sweet 16

Our youngest had her 'Sweet 16th' birthday on Friday. (She will always be Sweet Pea to her dad.) Where does the time go--and to all you young people reading this--yes, time does fly faster the older you get. I have a scientific reason all figured out--I'll explain it sometime, but it has to do with the more years you are alive and how everything is relative! Anyways...


I believe that it is a really good exercise, especially with my kids, to study them--I mean really know them and look for their good, super cool attributes. Hannah is a one of a kind--really passionate for God and for those less fortunate.

She loves serving at the food pantry and painting nails for the ladies at the nursing home. She told me once that she just wanted to 'make a difference' in this world, and that that might include missions.

She especially has a heart for the Rapha House, which is a home for girls in Cambodia that have been rescued from sex trafficking. Check out their website--Rapha House.

Hannah has always had her own style--and has always known exactly what that is. She has been working on painting her ceiling. That was a lot of squares-- and she's almost done!




Anyways--Happy Birthday, Hannah. Love you. Mom

Teaching to Play

While in Kenya, we visited our schools, and when we did, we saw such joy and happiness. Children playing--and other than the dirt playground, school rooms without glass in the windows, and village children watching longingly from the distance, we could have been somewhere in the middle of Wisconsin in a middle class graded school.




The common denominator is that kids are kids--and when given the opportunity for nourishment, protection and love, kids play and laugh the same everywhere in the world.

A light bulb moment for me was realizing that not all kids play. Children who are worried about where their next meal is coming from do not play.

Children who are worried about the physical health--life and death needs--of their parents do not play.

Children who have adult responsibilities, like 'mothering' siblings, searching for food and carrying water for miles do not have time to play.

In our schools, I saw children playing. In the villages, I did not see children playing.

One of my prayers at Bomani and Vipingo during the celebration days was that when the adults watched us visitors running, chasing, tickling, laughing with their children that they too would realize that playing with their kids shows them that they are loved.



I can't condemn Kenyan adults for not playing with their kids--you see, they were never played with, either. How are they supposed to know if they never experienced?

Occasionally, while playing a game of Duck, Duck, Goose or a modified game of Red Light-Green Light, called Stop and Go--I would look over at the adults as they watched the strange white people laughing while Kenyan children climbed and clamored to hold on to a leg or hand, or climb on the back just for the opportunity to be hugged or tickled. As they watched, I witnessed a glimmer of a sparkle in their eyes, and an occasional smile.

I pray that a light bulb went off in their minds--and the idea that playing with their children is a very good thing, for both the child and the adult, alike. While listening to a child laugh, it seems to lighten the load--if not just temporarily.

For me, there is just something about a child laughing that equals hope--and when we hope, we are closer to God.

Pen and Paper

How many pens do you have in your house? I have no idea the answer to that question, and in my house, I am guessing I have an infinite amount. As I am sitting at the computer, there is a purple one on the desk--just a second, let me check on the location of some other ones.

I looked for the last 1 and a half minutes, and I found one by the window seat, one in the coffee table drawer, 9 in the drawer where I keep the phone books/bills/everything else I don't know what to do with, 1 by the phone. That is not even mentioning the pens that I have that are actually where they are supposed to be--the junk bin.

So, I found 12 pens in two rooms of my house--like I said, it would be an infinite amount. Especially since I didn't check the couch cushions or under the sofas or chairs!

I am talking about pens because I have so many, and I have never given them a second thought--that is until I went to Kenya.

My friend Carrie brought pens and pads of paper for the kids to draw on. At the celebration day at Vipingo, many of us spent hours with the kids while they drew a picture with a pen! It was a big deal for them. Can you imagine spending time with kids in the States, and expecting them to care whether or not they could use a pen or not?

I had three pads of paper--three pens and 30 kids, from 2 years old to 20 years, all waiting to take a turn. After they drew their picture, I had them write their name and then I took a picture of them with their creation.

I will keep those pads of paper always, because for me they show such potential and promise. Each drawing is unique. The flowers that Lillian and Snumu drew speak of hope. This is a picture of Snumu and her flower--she wants to be a news broadcaster!

This is Lillian--followed by a letter that she wrote to me. I do believe the letter explains the look in her eyes, and it broke my heart.

This little girl couldn't have been more than three years old, but she had the attention span of a college student. Look at all those flower and all those "e's"! She worked on those for 45 minutes-filling up two pages-maybe not wanting to relinquish the pen. She was a twin and her sister was dressed the same. Check out her doll--it was the only toy I remember any of the children from the villages having. It had no arms or legs, but she clung to it as if it meant everything to her.

Stephen tried to act all tough--but he wanted to draw--but maybe it was more about being noticed and recognized as someone special.

I probably have 50 pictures of the kids with their art work. As I was taking the pictures, I knew it was important. Not sure why--maybe it was to send a message to each one--"You are valued and special--and you have a hope and a future." The message might have been for me because as I look at each photo their personalities and actions come flooding back--and as I look at the photos, I can zoom into the picture, and pray for them by name.

Cameras and Blessings

Kids in Kenya loved my camera. Usually, I had to point and shoot quickly if I saw a picture I wanted to capture, because if I paused, I would have 20 kids with their noses two inches from my lens!

Without any mirrors available, many of the kids were seeing themselves for the first time as I would turn the digital camera around so they could see the picture I just took.

Can you imagine not knowing what you look like? Most of the children would laugh and say the names of the others that they would recognize--and then I would point at their image and say, "That's you!!!" They would respond with a laugh--and many times a shy, embarrassed hiding of their face!

The biggest treat for the kids was having the opportunity to take a picture. I would carefully place the strap around their neck--and usually the first, older child that I had given the instructions to would relay the information to the others--"Look in here--Press this button."

I just take so many things for granted--for example mirrors. I am not sure how many times a day I look into one, and cameras. I am so very thankful that I had one so I can share my pictures with all of you. Not to mention the blessing of this computer to publish my experiences so easily and quickly.

Those items are so superficial when comparing them with my three meals a day--plus snacks, clean water that comes out of a faucet and doesn't need to be carried in a bucket on my head, clean clothes, warm roof over my head, transportation, shoes for my feet, health care for my family, etc. I really could go on and on--maybe one of these posts I will do that.

My eyes have been opened... I just hope they stay opened to all the blessings I have.

See if you can find me in each of these pictures, taken by some budding photographers. It's my little version of "Where's Waldo?"

Names

Before my trip, I had compassion for all those kids in Africa. Now, I have love and compassion for Josiah, Lillian, Lucky, Elvis and Allah and others. It's so much better to know them by name, and when I am praying for them, I am not just reciting a rote, generic prayer for those children 'over there.'

The lyrics to this song kept running through my head while in Kenya.


I have a maker
He knows my heart,
before even time began
My life was in his hands

He knows my name
He knows my every thought,
He sees each tear that falls
and hears me when I call.

God knows my name, and He knows the names of every child in Mombasa, Kenya as well as Every Town, USA.

The names of those children in Kenya are as priceless as their sweet little faces. I would love to share some of those precious ones with you. I will never think about those kids in Africa the same way ever again. He knows their name--and now we do, too!


!

LUCKY




JOSIAH




BILL GATE!




BRENDA



LILLIAN



ELVIS



NICODEMUS

Babies Carrying Babies

The one thing that stands out to me above all others--the pictures that stay in my head and continue to break my heart into tinier and tinier pieces are the ones where children who should be carried themselves are transporting little ones, not more than a couple years younger then themselves.

Check out the pictures...

Two separate days, we split up into groups and ventured into the villages to spread the news about a celebration/outreach day. As we walked, the group of children would grow, and a parade of little Kenyans following big Americans would travel through the mud and thatch houses.

The children would clamor to hold onto a hand, many times settling for a finger--which would give us the privilege of walking with 10 by our side.


As we were walking, Nora noticed two little ones sitting by their house, with no adult in sight. This is what she saw...

Later, as we were walking, she noticed the same little ones walking along side of the group. Barefoot, big sister trudged along, carrying little sister, with eyes that have haunted me ever since. This picture is burned into my heart forever...

>






Finally, Nora offered to help carry the little one.



Big sister never left Nora's side--and as hard as Nora tried, she was never able to get her to smile. The same eyes that you see in these pictures--eyes that tell untold stories that I can not even imagine, eyes that look old and burdened by responsibility stared back at Nora's smiling face.

These are the pictures that I brought back with me from Kenya...

Kenya and Back

Isaiah 41:17-20

"The poor and needy search for water,

but there is none;

their tongues are parched with thirst.

But I the LORD will answer them;

I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them.

I will make rivers flow on barren heights,

and springs within the valleys.

I will turn the desert into pools of water,

and the parched ground into springs.

I will put in the desert

the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive.

I will set pines in the wasteland,

the fir and the cypress together,

so that people may see and know,

may consider and understand,

that the hand of the LORD has done this,

that the Holy One of Israel has created it.

Our trip to Kenya is behind us, but is forever in my heart. How can I even put the words down to describe the experience? I want to write it all down at once--but that is impossible, so I will trust God that I will be able to express it all, blog by blog!

God teaches me lessons that are lessons that I already thought I had all figured out. It is an ever increasing knowledge--building brick by brick on what He has already taught me.

For example, here is one of those lessons learned in Kenya: Faith, Hope, and Love are the GREATEST gifts that He could give us.

My soul was as parched and hungry as those Kenyans were physically before Jesus came into my life so many years ago. I was as hopeless spiritually as they are physically and spiritually.

I was so honored to be part of the ministry that Fox River Christian Church has in Africa. We are making a difference in a big way--feeding hungry children, educating their minds, but most importantly, feeding their hungry souls.

As we ventured into the villages, I witnessed children carrying babies on their backs, with eyes that told unknown stories of heartache and despair, realizing that this is their life--full of mundanenss, poverty and hopelessness, completely lacking any future or dreams.

I also witnessed children from our schools who were fed a lunch to fill their stomachs, and stories of Jesus's love to fill their souls.

Those children and many of their teachers lived in the same hopeless situation as the others in the village, but because of the FAITH, HOPE and LOVE that they have experienced through Jesus and individuals who love Him, they were able to dream and hope for a future. God has good plans--and in plenty or in want, with Him and the gifts that He gives us, we are blessed.

I have lots to share--thoughts, pictures, etc. I just hope words will do it justice! Stay tuned!