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Sunday, November 14, 2010

Nothing Left

Hello All,

I'd like to go ahead and announce that I am ruined. It's in a good way, I will assure you, but I am wrecked. I will never be normal. I can never go back to mediocrity. I have been ruined.

This past week has been one of great difficulty, and once again, God has been dealing with me. (I wouldn't have it any other way--how else can I grow?) Once again, it's been another stage in the journey of loss and surrender, and it is painful. But, I have so much hope; life holds so much promise when governed with reckless obedience to God.

Then, this past weekend, I had my last ALEF retreat. ALEF is the scholarship that made it possible for me to go to college fully debt-free, and each year they hold leadership retreats for all of us fellows. If I am being honest, I am not often pleased with these experiences because my views of leadership are rather unconventional. I'd rather hear from the poor, serving missionary than the rich CEO, the faithful special education teacher than the powerful military leader. Money doesn't impress me. Human power is meaningless. Thus, I generally struggle to sit through these sessions because I reject so much of what they speak as normal success. This year was similar to past years in that regard.

Our first two speakers talked of various global troubles--the first was a powerful Air Force general, the second was a correspondent for CBS with the US State Department. Both of them talked about various plights in the world--upcoming Chinese power, troubles with North Korea, just the sort of things you hear on the news all the time. Meanwhile, most of the "solutions" that were listed involved weapons and force, diplomatic manipulation, and a well-spent dollar. Listening, I was devastated. Who said the US had to the be the world's superpower? The way I see it, we haven't been good stewards with the endless blessings we've been granted. Instead, we've been proud and selfish, greedy and exploitive. Pride goes before a fall--that doesn't exclude entire countries. Meanwhile, the people we would seek to control, exploit, and threaten are just that--people! People in Afghanistan, North Korea, Mexico, Iran, Iraq, Russia, etc. are not part of the ominous "them." They are people with souls and pain, just like we are. As these speakers brought up topic after topic for us, the new generation, to worry about, I sat with tears streaming down my face. There are so many people in the world that don't know Jesus. There are poor, starving, hurting, angry, deceived people all over the world that don't know Jesus, and it would seem that those that have the only hopeful answer are sitting comfortably in an air-conditioned room plotting out of fear the demise of the very people we should be reaching with God's love. As I sat there hearing about starving people in North Korea and dangerous Mexican drug cartels, all I could tell God was, "God, I'll go anywhere You send me. If You want me to go to North Korea, I'll go to North Korea. If you want me to go to Afghanistan, I'll go to Afghanistan. But, God, I am one little person." As the general was talking, the line from Jason Upton's song, "Dying Star," kept playing in my head over and over: Great victorious warrior. . .great shining star.

The whole talk revolved around what the strategies should be, and with every problem he presented, he made the quip: "There is an app for that!" and listed naval or air powers, weapons, and planes. Rise, rise, rise. Live out your strategies. And God made it very clear that the app for that is prayer. In that moment, I felt so alone, convicted, and repentant because while I would venture that nearly every person in that room would claim to be a Christian just as I do, how many of us are walking in what God is urging us, His people, to do? How many of us are broken and repentant, getting on our face daily to surrender the strategies that we think we have to solve the world's problems? How many of us have broken hearts for those around us and into the far reaches of the world?

I spent the whole day with such a heavy burden on my heart. I could feel it in my posture, and I could not disguise it on my face. By the end of the day, I was so heavy that I could feel a giant breakdown coming. When we went to dinner which was set to have another speaker, Gabrielle and I sat down at a table that we thought was toward the back. I purposefully sat at a round table with my back to where I thought the speaker would be standing because after hearing about "success" and riches, power and fame, I was done. I had nothing left, and the tears were already brimming. But, God, of course, has other plans. They moved the speaker to right in front of our table, and the way that he was standing was directly in front of my line of vision. There was no escape. The speaker, however, Kevin Crutchfield, was the best speaker of the day.

He started by talking of the world as a village of 100 people, and he explained the privilege that we have in the US. He pointed out that being born in the US is not a birthright. We did nothing to earn it, and we have the responsibility to recognize this privilege and be good stewards of it. He then talked of the people that are in our lives. He pointed out that he wouldn't be who he is today if it wasn't for his father and his workers and the people that serve faithfully that so many wouldn't recognize as heroes and leaders. By this time, I was so refreshed by his speech that I was crying. It wasn't just a tear here and there; it was red face, mascara streams, and snot sliding out my nose. I was a mess, and the speaker could clearly see it. Then he continued, "You may think, 'I am just one little person. What can I do to change the world?'" And he talked of loving people, treating them as you would want to be treated, being faithful in the small things, and running to problems instead of away from them. And in that moment, God reminded me of Heidi Baker and some things that I have heard in her messages--"I [Jesus] died that there will always be enough. . . . Love the one. Stop for the one. . . . I'm in love. I'm in love! There is no 'no' left in me for God!"

Thus, I am ruined. I can never live a "normal" life (who wants to anyway?) because I have seen too much. I know too much--God is too real. The world is too full of people who don't know Jesus, and my life is too short to waste being selfish. It's just that simple. Last night, with more tears streaming down my face (I'm pretty sure I'm just going to turn into a puddle before it's all said and done), I was listening to a message by Heidi Baker, and she said, "Do you know what I do in between meetings? I worship. I pray. I ride a bike and pray. I swim and pray. And some of you that may bother because you think, 'Oh that's so religious; why can't she just do something normal?' I worship. I soak. I am so desperate for Him that I have no other place to go. I'm unable to do other things. I'm just unable." And that is the place where I feel like I am slowly getting to. My greatest and most frequent utterance to God nowadays is "God, I have nothing left! I have absolutely nothing left." And when I have nothing left and no where else to turn, only then can He fill me up. He has given me these burdens for other people, other countries, other peoples, the world. They are His burdens, and rather than rushing into a fury of action, thinking that I can solve it all through my own strategies, all I can do is sob before Him and tell Him I have nothing left. I am so dependent on Him, so desperate that I can't make it through a day any more.

I have reached a point of such exhaustion. I am so drained. I cry all the time in any location in front of any people. I have nothing left. I feel so alone because so few believe that He is enough. The circumstances around me and even other Christians say that He's not enough, that I'm too idealistic, and while this breaks my heart and makes me cry with desolation, I hear echoed in my spirit, "I died that there would always be enough," and I am just crazy enough to believe it.

With humble love,
Sarah

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Home for the Holidays!

Hello All,

It is November! I am so grateful. I was looking back at some old journal entries from last year, and I realized that this time last year was also a time of death, homesickness, and struggle, but October does eventually end. I can't believe I've only been back from Honduras for not even three full months--and I'm going back in a mere 51 days! I am ecstatic.

In the midst of all of the stripping, death, and burial, I found myself crying out to God and letting go of all of it but still saying, "God, at some point, after all of the dying, a plant grows again and is reborn. Please sustain me until You have it in Your will to cause me to be reborn." With this prayer in mind, I found myself once again in Isaiah.
Isaiah 48:
Tested in the Furnace of Affliction
And now listen to this, family of Jacob, you who are called by the name Israel: who got you started in the loins of Judah?, you who use God's name to back up your promises and pray to the God of Israel? But do you mean it? Do you live like it? You claim to be citizens of the Holy City; you act as though you lean on the God of Israel, named God-of-the-Angel-Armies. For a long time now, I've let you in on the way I work: I told you what I was going to do beforehand, then I did it and it was done, and that's that. I know you're a bunch of hardheads, obstinate and flint-faced, so I got a running start and began telling you what was going on before it even happened. . . . And that was just the beginning. I have a lot more to tell you, things you never knew existed. This isn't a variation on the same old thing. This is new, brand-new, something you'd never guess or dream up. When you hear this you won't be able to say, 'I knew that all along.' . . . Do you see what I've done? I've refined you, but not without fire. I've tested you like silver in the furnace of affliction. . . . Listen, Jacob. Listen, Israel--I'm the One who named you! I'm the One. I got things started, and yes, I'll wrap them up. . . . Come close, listen carefully: I've never kept secrets from you. I've always been present with you. . . . I am God, your God, who teaches you how to live right and well. I show you what to do, where to go.
Isaiah 49:
A Light for the Nations
Listen, far-flung islands, pay attention, faraway people: God put me to work from the day I was born. The moment I entered the world he named me. He gave me speech that would cut and penetrate. He kept his hand on me to protect me. He made me his straight arrow and hid me in his quiver. He said to me, "You're my dear servant, Israel, through whom I'll shine." But I said, "I've worked for nothing. I've nothing to show for a life of hard work. Nevertheless, I'll let God have the last word. I'll let him pronounce his verdict."
"And now," God says, this God who took me in hand from the moment of birth to be his servant, to bring Jacob back home to him, to set a reunion for Israel--What an honor for me in God's eyes! That God should be my strength! He says, "But that's not a big enough job for my servant--just to recover the tribes of Jacob, merely to round up the strays of Israel. I'm setting you up as a light for the nations so that my salvation becomes global!" . . .
"When the time's ripe, I answer you. When victory's due, I help you. I form you and use you to reconnect the people with me, to put the land in order, to resettle families on the ruined properties. . . .
Heavens, raise the roof! Earth, wake the dead! Mountains, send up cheers! God has comforted his people. He has tenderly nursed his beaten-up, beaten-down people.


There have been a couple of situations lately where I have acted out of obedience to God, yet the results of my actions could be seen as failures within the world's eyes. I don't necessarily know the reason; perhaps, God merely wants to see if I'll be obedient no matter what the results are. But, at times, it does feel as if I've worked for nothing, that I have nothing to show for my obedience. I don't regret being obedient though. Throughout this month, I have felt so directionless at times. I've been looking to God and listening, but I have been tired and lonely. I had been praying that God would just give me some light, a direction, some hope for movement because I really had nothing left. I was so desperate for Him.

Then, my friend Robert, who went with me to Honduras in the summer of 2009, wrote me a letter telling me that he felt like God was leading him to go back to Honduras during our winter break and asking me to go with him. That came from out of nowhere. I hadn't even thought of going back before I move. When I first read his letter, I was confused and almost frustrated because my first reaction was to feel overwhelmed and torn. I have been in a heightened homesick for Honduras mode anyway, but going back at this time was so far from my plans. I have been treating this year as my last in the US, so I was expecting to spend time with my family. I was almost frustrated with Robert for presenting a situation where I felt as if I'd have to choose one family or home over another. But, I simply told God, "OK, God, what do you want me to do here? I'll do whatever You direct me to do."

I went to a wedding in Hershey, Pennsylvania, last weekend, and on the drive back, I was listening to the radio. It was as if God was talking to me through every song that came on. I was a mess, just telling God how desperately I need Him, how I have nothing left, how I feel so alone and torn. Since I've been back, I've become increasingly aware of the burden of compassion I carry in my heart for people here in the US. Honduras has so much of my heart, and I have a huge burden for the orphans and juvenile delinquents and lost there, but people are people no matter where they are. God loves the rich and the poor. God feels the pain of the openly broken and those that are hurting behind closed doors of performance. God weeps for the blind in the US and the blind in Honduras. God is desperate for intimacy with His church here as much as He longs for intimacy with His church in Honduras. I have been saying for so long that I love Honduras and am moving to Honduras and don't want to live in the US, and while all of that is true, I don't want anyone to think that I love the people of the US any less. There are so many hurting people in this country as well, but I must go wherever God calls me to go at any specific time. So, I found myself feeling the intensity of these two seemingly conflicting burdens and telling God, "I'm just one little person! How can I be in two places at once? How can I reach two peoples?" All I could do was give the burdens back to God until I felt a new sense of peace. I don't have to choose between the burdens or between countries or people. He's the One that placed both burdens on my heart. It is all His work. I have no idea what God has in store for my life, but I am humbled to my knees with the revelation that He has called me, that He wants to pour this one little person out as a vessel for His love.

So, with this surrender, I felt confident in God's leading to go back to Honduras in December. On this trip, it will be me, Robert, and my cousin/roommate, Gabrielle. It is my fifth time, Robert's second, and Gabrielle's first. I am so excited. We're going on December 27 until January 9 (Roy's birthday!). My mom was grateful that I'll be home for Christmas Day, so God-willing, I will be splitting my winter break between my two homes and two families. Papí Alvin, Mamí Nelly and the girls will only be there for four days of the two weeks we'll be there because they'll be doing some holiday traveling to Nicaragua. Mamí Sara will also be in Nicaragua. Roy will be in the southern part of the country until the 30th, but after that, he's excited to come to La Esperanza with us to visit my host family and possibly my students since he's never been to Esperanza before. And, he's planning on taking us to Casitas Kennedy (Tiny Houses Orphanage) and to see Julio and Bessy. We'll have plenty of time to spend at the Eagle's Nest; there are a few more girls living there now. I can't wait to see my little sisters! I have missed them so much. All in all, this spur of the moment trip to Honduras has been like a shot in the arm, and I don't think it's even necessarily the fact that it's a trip to Honduras (Ok, maybe it is); it's the light, the hope, the direction that I asked for. And, I also get the sense that it is some form of a rebirth. I have no idea what to expect. I'm not making any concrete plans. But, I am chomping at the bit to go back. I am so full of anticipation that I feel like I might implode. This trip is so far from anything I would have planned, but I keep coming back to Isaiah--This isn't a variation on the same old thing. This is new, brand-new, something you'd never guess or dream up.

That's the current story. Please keep us in prayers as we prepare. The semester is winding down, and we're going to be jumping from one fury of action (homework, projects, finals, holidays) to another (airports, buses, Spanish, new things!). I, for one, want whatever God has for this trip. I want God's work accomplished in both His Kingdom and on earth. I want to be recklessly obedient throughout this new adventure whatever that may mean.

Just saturated,
Sarah