Hello All,
I wanted to give you a bit of an update before I get swept up into the realm of last-minute packing for--Honduras!!!! While we were supposed to fly out on Monday, the threat of impending snow (that we never actually got. . .ha ha) cancelled our flight. Thus, we fly out tomorrow, have a layover in Miami, and finally will arrive in sunny Tegus. I can't wait. I haven't been able to sleep much for the past week because as soon as I close my eyes, I'm replaying Honduras memories and excitedly thinking of home. Soon enough, though, I'll be making new memories with Robert and Gabrielle who are coming with me.
I enjoyed my time with my family over Christmas. Just being around them is always a blessing. Sometimes, I forget how nice it is to be completely comfortable with the people that you're around--able to be silly, to wander around in sweats, and to be loud. I also had good visits with my extended family on both sides. It was nice to see the cousins and catch up a little bit. And now that I've had my time with my US family, it's on to my other family!
God had indicated to me a month or so ago that no matter what happens with this rather unplanned trip that we are to approach it all with an attitude of prayer. Therefore, when I heard about the possible snowstorm, I was praying as I drove back to Shepherd, asking God to keep it from snowing and cancelling our flight until. . . God asked me, "Whose trip is this?" Once again realizing that whatever happens, we are being obedient in going and that we can trust in God's best, I began to change my prayers, asking only for God's will this time. When our flight was cancelled, while we were initially disappointed, we chose to see it as God's best and as another part of the adventure. We aren't even in Honduras yet, but God has already blessed this trip in so many unexpected ways. None of us asked for financial help from anyone. We were just trying to be obedient to God's prompting to go. Yet, each of us has received generous outpouring from family, friends, and churches. We are so blessed by this surprise support and look forward to merely being the vessels that carry that blessing on to Alvin.
Because I've been to Honduras so many times now, it is just home. I don't see going back as a compartmentalized "mission trip," and I love it that way. Whenever you travel to a Third World country, the question you always get asked is, "What are you doing there?" And, this is an occasion where we don't have an answer other than "being obedient." We don't have a project in mind. We don't expect to do all of the usual team things that typically happen at Alvin's. We would rather be treated as family, able to serve in any capacity God leads. We do hope to travel to Esperanza so that I can share my second Honduran family, the school where I taught, and my life this past summer with Roy, Gabrielle, and Robert. I am ecstatic to see everyone again.
I feel so unbelievably blessed that God is allowing me to go back so much sooner than I expected. This is about the time of year where my internal repetitions of "I just want to go home" and homesickness for Honduras gets very intense. I don't know if it's something about the cold and the gray that makes me long for the blue sky and warmth of Honduras or what, but the fact that I'm in the height of Honduras longings and actually get to return is so wonderful. I've been told on more than one occasion that when I talk about Honduras that my whole face lights up, so I no longer feel so silly when Gabrielle catches me with an inexplicable grin on my face. That smile has been a permanent fixture for the past few days, and it's also no unusual for me to just start laughing to myself for no reason other than pure joy at the thought of returning home. Oh my goodness. . .I simply can't wait.
One lesson from Christmas that I am carrying with me to Honduras stems from a beloved Christmas carol, "O Holy Night." Have you ever really listening to the lyrics from that song? They really struck me, so let me share them with you:
O Holy Night
O holy night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
'Til He appear'd and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! O hear the angels' voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born;
O night divine, O night, O night Divine.
. . .
Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains shall he break for the slave is our brother;
And in His name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! O praise His name forever,
His power and glory evermore proclaim.
His power and glory evermore proclaim.
As I was listening to this song over the holidays, I was struck with the image conjured with the lines, "Long lay the world in sin and error pining, 'til He appeared and the soul felt its worth." I couldn't help but think of the street kids in Honduras or the images of starving children I've seen from Mozambique that are laying there with no hope in the midst of darkness, hunger, and filth. Then I began to think of how it must feel for them to meet someone like Alvin or Heidi Baker who shows them Jesus and also shows them how much they are worth, how much He loves them. There are so many souls in the world who have never felt their worth. Then, I began to feel the weight of the truth that we are the ones called to appear in the world of darkness inhabited by others in order to be Jesus to them and show them how much they are worth to God. As I mulled this responsibility over in my mind, I indeed wanted to fall on my knees in both adoration and in repentance for the times when I am not obedient or faithful in showing other souls their worth to Jesus. It is the life that He calls each of us to. We don't have to travel to a foreign country to find hurting people who need to feel their worth. I think it's also worth pointing out that the song does say "felt" rather than "know." The truth is that we can tell people that they are important and worth something to God all day long, and they can know it logically in their heads without ever feeling it.
I was thinking about gifts a lot over break and asked numerous people the question of what gift has been the most important to them, and my findings were that our idea of a good gift involves some level of forethought and sacrifice--of time, of money, of self. Jesus is obviously the best gift ever given even from a logical standpoint because God had the intuitive forethought to see our deep need for a Savior and chose to sacrifice the dearest part of Himself. Jesus then became deeply and personally aware of our needs as human beings. This Christmas has been a lot of learning about how God defines giving as opposed to how my culture tends to define giving, and the most important conclusion I've come to is that if we truly want to give like Jesus, we have to see past ourselves to the needs of others, choose to feel those needs, and choose to sacrifice--lay down our lives, our time, our money for others. (Are those things really ours anyway?) If we're being honest, simply approaching everyone with a blanket approach of sharing Jesus defies how God defines giving. When we don't seek God's best way of reaching another human being and rely on formulas or what we've always been taught or think we're supposed to do, we're not taking the time to acquaint ourselves personally with the other person's needs, to have the forethought of how to show Jesus specifically to that person, and aren't sacrificing much of ourselves. How much does it cost to give a stranger a standard spiel about the Gospel? How much more does it cost to live as that stranger lives, to embrace their suffering for ourselves, to feel their pain, and them show them Jesus? It costs our lives. That is what God calls us to, and that is the attitude that I want to take with me to Honduras and throughout the rest of my life.
Happy New Year to all of you! I hope it is full of new beginnings.
Lots of love and excitement,
Sarah
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
Found
Hello All,
I am always so amazed at the ways that God can find me even when I have buried myself in work or am dwelling in despair. He always manages to knock on the door of my heart when I need it most. It has been a difficult week for various reasons--the easiest way to explain it is merely be reverting back to the old theme which is loss, loss, and more loss. In the midst of feeling abandoned by various humans, I found myself questioning why God loves me and struggling to know in my heart that He never abandons me. After spending some portion of every day this past week in tears and pain, God found me today in the midst of my 13-page Spanish paper--the last assignment of the semester.
I was listening to Pandora when a live version of "Blessed Be Your Name" by the Newsboys came on. Already a theme song for this week and year, I listened a little more intently as the lead singer began to quote scripture at the end. It hit home. http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=DLycgKxlgc0
The scripture that he recites is from Isaiah--one of my favorite books anyway--and they were words that I so desperately needed:
from Isaiah 40-41:
"So--who is like me?
Who holds a candle to me?" says The Holy.
Look at the night skies:
Who do you think made all this?
Who marches this army of stars out each night,
counts them off, calls each by name
--so magnificent! so powerful!--
and never overlooks a single one?
Why would you ever complain, O Jacob,
or, whine, Israel, saying,
"God has lost track of me.
He doesn't care what happens to me"?
Don't you know anything? Haven't you been listening?
God doesn't come and go. God lasts.
He's Creator of all you can see or imagine.
He doesn't get tired out, doesn't pause to catch his breath.
And he knows everything, inside and out.
He energizes those who get tired,
gives fresh strength to dropouts.
For even young people tire and drop out,
young folk in their prime stumble and fall.
But those who wait upon God will get fresh strength.
They spread their wings and soar like eagles,
They run and don't get tired,
they walk and don't lag behind. . . .
"But you, Israel, are my servant.
You're Jacob, my first choice,
descendants of my good friend Abraham.
I pulled you in from all over the world,
called you in from every dark corner of the earth,
Telling you, 'You're my servant, serving on my side.
I've picked you. I haven't dropped you.'
Don't panic. I'm with you.
There's no need to fear for I'm your God.
I'll give you strength. I'll help you.
I'll hold you steady, keep a firm grip on you.
"Count on it: Everyone who had it in for you
will end up out in the cold--
real losers.
Those who worked against you
will end up empty-handed--
nothing to show for their lives.
When you go out looking for your old adversaries
you won't find them--
Not a trace of your old enemies,
not even a memory.
That's right. Because I, your God,
have a firm grip on you and I'm not letting go.
I'm telling you, 'Don't panic.
I'm right here to help you.'
"Do you feel like a lowly worm, Jacob?
Don't be afraid.
Feel like a fragile insect, Israel?
I'll help you.
I, God, want to reassure you.
The God who buys you back, The Holy of Israel.
Then, moments after hearing this scripture, I was sent a convicting text from my friend, Robert, who will be going with me and my cousin to Honduras in a couple weeks. He reminded me of the scripture 1 Corinthians 7:17 which I normally read in the context of marriage versus being single. However, that scripture in isolation was a nice, needed wakeup call for someone who has been counting down the days till Honduras for well over a month and who has a constant ticker tape of the thought, "I just want to go home [to Honduras]," running through her head. Sometimes, Honduras becomes a mental escape for me when I know that in reality any problems I have here are also present (and often magnified) in Honduras. Thus, this scripture was God's gentle reminder that home is always Him.
from 1 Corinthians 7:17:
And don't be wishing you were somplace else or with someone else. Where you are right now is God's place for you. Live and obey and love and believe right there.
I can't help but be thrilled that I am going back to Honduras in 17 days; however, this is God's trip. I don't want to have any expectations or set plans. He is the one that organized all of this--it wasn't my plan--and I want Him to have full control to do His will. It's funny--I had no plans to go back to Honduras before I move, and I had pretty much determined that I was strong enough to be able to go that long without being home (still Honduras, can't help it). But, it is such an amazing blessing that when I find myself struggling greatly, telling God once again that I have nothing left, that I am just a lowly shell, and that all I want is to go home whatever that may mean, He has already made the way for me to go back. He knows my weaknesses and heart's needs far better than I do.
For that, I am infinitely grateful. I have made it through my second to last semester of college. Next semester is student teaching, and after that, college is over. I marvel at how fast the time has flown. I marvel at all that I've learned. And I marvel at the balance of loss and enthusiasm for the future that overtakes me on a regular basis, and in the midst of the pendulum of emotions, God reminds me to live and obey and love right here. That's the whole purpose of life, anyway. It's always been that simple.
With Love,
Sarah
I am always so amazed at the ways that God can find me even when I have buried myself in work or am dwelling in despair. He always manages to knock on the door of my heart when I need it most. It has been a difficult week for various reasons--the easiest way to explain it is merely be reverting back to the old theme which is loss, loss, and more loss. In the midst of feeling abandoned by various humans, I found myself questioning why God loves me and struggling to know in my heart that He never abandons me. After spending some portion of every day this past week in tears and pain, God found me today in the midst of my 13-page Spanish paper--the last assignment of the semester.
I was listening to Pandora when a live version of "Blessed Be Your Name" by the Newsboys came on. Already a theme song for this week and year, I listened a little more intently as the lead singer began to quote scripture at the end. It hit home. http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=DLycgKxlgc0
The scripture that he recites is from Isaiah--one of my favorite books anyway--and they were words that I so desperately needed:
from Isaiah 40-41:
"So--who is like me?
Who holds a candle to me?" says The Holy.
Look at the night skies:
Who do you think made all this?
Who marches this army of stars out each night,
counts them off, calls each by name
--so magnificent! so powerful!--
and never overlooks a single one?
Why would you ever complain, O Jacob,
or, whine, Israel, saying,
"God has lost track of me.
He doesn't care what happens to me"?
Don't you know anything? Haven't you been listening?
God doesn't come and go. God lasts.
He's Creator of all you can see or imagine.
He doesn't get tired out, doesn't pause to catch his breath.
And he knows everything, inside and out.
He energizes those who get tired,
gives fresh strength to dropouts.
For even young people tire and drop out,
young folk in their prime stumble and fall.
But those who wait upon God will get fresh strength.
They spread their wings and soar like eagles,
They run and don't get tired,
they walk and don't lag behind. . . .
"But you, Israel, are my servant.
You're Jacob, my first choice,
descendants of my good friend Abraham.
I pulled you in from all over the world,
called you in from every dark corner of the earth,
Telling you, 'You're my servant, serving on my side.
I've picked you. I haven't dropped you.'
Don't panic. I'm with you.
There's no need to fear for I'm your God.
I'll give you strength. I'll help you.
I'll hold you steady, keep a firm grip on you.
"Count on it: Everyone who had it in for you
will end up out in the cold--
real losers.
Those who worked against you
will end up empty-handed--
nothing to show for their lives.
When you go out looking for your old adversaries
you won't find them--
Not a trace of your old enemies,
not even a memory.
That's right. Because I, your God,
have a firm grip on you and I'm not letting go.
I'm telling you, 'Don't panic.
I'm right here to help you.'
"Do you feel like a lowly worm, Jacob?
Don't be afraid.
Feel like a fragile insect, Israel?
I'll help you.
I, God, want to reassure you.
The God who buys you back, The Holy of Israel.
Then, moments after hearing this scripture, I was sent a convicting text from my friend, Robert, who will be going with me and my cousin to Honduras in a couple weeks. He reminded me of the scripture 1 Corinthians 7:17 which I normally read in the context of marriage versus being single. However, that scripture in isolation was a nice, needed wakeup call for someone who has been counting down the days till Honduras for well over a month and who has a constant ticker tape of the thought, "I just want to go home [to Honduras]," running through her head. Sometimes, Honduras becomes a mental escape for me when I know that in reality any problems I have here are also present (and often magnified) in Honduras. Thus, this scripture was God's gentle reminder that home is always Him.
from 1 Corinthians 7:17:
And don't be wishing you were somplace else or with someone else. Where you are right now is God's place for you. Live and obey and love and believe right there.
I can't help but be thrilled that I am going back to Honduras in 17 days; however, this is God's trip. I don't want to have any expectations or set plans. He is the one that organized all of this--it wasn't my plan--and I want Him to have full control to do His will. It's funny--I had no plans to go back to Honduras before I move, and I had pretty much determined that I was strong enough to be able to go that long without being home (still Honduras, can't help it). But, it is such an amazing blessing that when I find myself struggling greatly, telling God once again that I have nothing left, that I am just a lowly shell, and that all I want is to go home whatever that may mean, He has already made the way for me to go back. He knows my weaknesses and heart's needs far better than I do.
For that, I am infinitely grateful. I have made it through my second to last semester of college. Next semester is student teaching, and after that, college is over. I marvel at how fast the time has flown. I marvel at all that I've learned. And I marvel at the balance of loss and enthusiasm for the future that overtakes me on a regular basis, and in the midst of the pendulum of emotions, God reminds me to live and obey and love right here. That's the whole purpose of life, anyway. It's always been that simple.
With Love,
Sarah
Sunday, December 5, 2010
2 Corinthians 6
Hello All,
Today is such a beautiful day, and I find myself marveling at how truly beautiful God is. He orchestrates such perfect details in my life. How can I see His fingerprints all around me and not be completely enamored with Him?
I just wanted to share a scripture that I found to be a great comfort this past week:
2 Corinthians 6
Staying at Our Post
Companions as we are in this work with you, we beg you, please don't squander one bit of this marvelous life God has given us. God reminds us, I heard your call in the nick of time; The day you needed me, I was there to help.
Well now is the right time to listen, the day to be helped. Don't put it off; don't frustrate God's work by showing up late, throwing a question mark over everything we're doing. Our work as God's servants gets validated--or not--in the details. People are watching as we stay at our post, alertly, unswervingly . . . in the hard time, tough times, bad times; when we're beaten up, jailed, and mobbed; working hard, working late, working without eating; with pure heart, clear head, steady hand, in gentleness, holiness, and honest love; when we're telling the truth, and when God's showing his power; when we're doing our best setting things right; when we're praised, and when we're blamed; slandered, and honored; true to our word, though distrusted; ignored by the world, but recognized by God; terrifically alive, though rumored to be dead; beaten within an inch of our lives, but refusing to die; immersed in tears, yet always filled with deep joy; living on handouts, yet enriching many; having nothing, having it all.
Dear, dear Corinthians, I can't tell you how much I long for you to entre this wide-open, spacious life. We didn't fence you in. The smallness you feel comes from within you. Your lives aren't small, but you're living them in a small way. I'm speaking as plainly as I can and with great affection. Open up your lives. Live openly and expansively!
Don't become partners with those who reject God. How can you make a partnership out of right and wrong? That's not partnership; that's war. Is light best friends with dark? Does Christ go strolling with the Devil? Do trust and mistrust hold hands? Who would think of setting up pagan idols in God's holy Temple? But that is exactly what we are; each of us a temple in whom God lives. God himself put it this way:
"I'll live in them, move into them;
I'll be their God and they'll be my people.
So leave the corruption and compromise;
leave it for good," says God.
"Don't link up with those who will pollute you.
I want you all for myself.
I'll be a Father to you;
you'll be sons and daughters to me."
The Word of the Master, God.
With love in the midst of loss,
Sarah
Today is such a beautiful day, and I find myself marveling at how truly beautiful God is. He orchestrates such perfect details in my life. How can I see His fingerprints all around me and not be completely enamored with Him?
I just wanted to share a scripture that I found to be a great comfort this past week:
2 Corinthians 6
Staying at Our Post
Companions as we are in this work with you, we beg you, please don't squander one bit of this marvelous life God has given us. God reminds us, I heard your call in the nick of time; The day you needed me, I was there to help.
Well now is the right time to listen, the day to be helped. Don't put it off; don't frustrate God's work by showing up late, throwing a question mark over everything we're doing. Our work as God's servants gets validated--or not--in the details. People are watching as we stay at our post, alertly, unswervingly . . . in the hard time, tough times, bad times; when we're beaten up, jailed, and mobbed; working hard, working late, working without eating; with pure heart, clear head, steady hand, in gentleness, holiness, and honest love; when we're telling the truth, and when God's showing his power; when we're doing our best setting things right; when we're praised, and when we're blamed; slandered, and honored; true to our word, though distrusted; ignored by the world, but recognized by God; terrifically alive, though rumored to be dead; beaten within an inch of our lives, but refusing to die; immersed in tears, yet always filled with deep joy; living on handouts, yet enriching many; having nothing, having it all.
Dear, dear Corinthians, I can't tell you how much I long for you to entre this wide-open, spacious life. We didn't fence you in. The smallness you feel comes from within you. Your lives aren't small, but you're living them in a small way. I'm speaking as plainly as I can and with great affection. Open up your lives. Live openly and expansively!
Don't become partners with those who reject God. How can you make a partnership out of right and wrong? That's not partnership; that's war. Is light best friends with dark? Does Christ go strolling with the Devil? Do trust and mistrust hold hands? Who would think of setting up pagan idols in God's holy Temple? But that is exactly what we are; each of us a temple in whom God lives. God himself put it this way:
"I'll live in them, move into them;
I'll be their God and they'll be my people.
So leave the corruption and compromise;
leave it for good," says God.
"Don't link up with those who will pollute you.
I want you all for myself.
I'll be a Father to you;
you'll be sons and daughters to me."
The Word of the Master, God.
With love in the midst of loss,
Sarah
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Eagles and Name Signs
Hello All,
It has been quite a while since I have updated, so I figured I'd go ahead and let you know what's been going on. Thanksgiving break went very well. It was nice to spend some time with my family and to get away from campus for a while.
Last Wednesday, I had the opportunity to speak at Horizons Church youth group where my sister goes on a regular basis. I had no idea what to expect, and to be honest, I had forgotten that I had even agreed to speak until the day before. I am not someone that does much formal preparation when speaking to others, even if it's a large group. I would rather my heart be prepared to be a clean vessel of God's message than have the right words and timing all planned out. I hadn't been in a formal church setting in quite a while, and it had been even longer since I had been in a youth group. It reminded me of my youth group days, and the kids at Horizons were awesome. The praise and worship songs that they played were practically my playlist for this year with "Blessed Be Your Name" and "Lead Me to the Cross." And once again, God had to gently nudge me about another area of life that needed to be surrendered and lost. Speaking went well, and the message that God seemed to give me was the same simple one He resonates in my life on a daily basis--life on God's terms is infinitely better than anything we could imagine for ourselves. He wants us to stop assuming that we know what is best for ourselves and invite Him into every single detail and decision in life. To do that, we must lose all--our dreams, our desires, our hopes, and our fears. We must trust that God knows best and have faith that God loves us perfectly--enough to give us His best. The other day, I was astounded with the realization that God is control of my life. God--the one and only God--loves me enough to take control of my life when I ask Him to. He could completely leave me alone to my own vices, refusing to rescue me from myself. But, He willingly embraces the failure that I am and takes joy in leading me by the hand to Himself and His blessings. I can't help but marvel and His humility in this way. He is all-powerful, yet He doesn't forget me.
Last Saturday, I had a wonderful opportunity to go to Crossroads Deaf Baptist Church in Frederick, Maryland. As part of my sign language class, I was required to experience some elements of deaf culture. I found this church online, and I e-mailed the pastor. Although I was rather nervous because it was a potluck to be held at the pastor's house, and it seemed like a small church (which meant no disappearing into the background), I went this past Sunday. As I sat in my car a bit early, staring at the apartment building and wondering what I had gotten myself into, something God said during my first summer of living in Honduras rang in my ears: "Sarah, is the church My house? Because if it is My house, and you are My child, you are free to move about My house without fear." Thus, with this in mind, and feeling as if God had orchestrated circumstances so as to send me to this place, I went. It was a wonderful experience. While there was only one deaf woman there, she was truly delightful, and we were able to communicate well. It made me miss the early days of Honduras before I could speak the language very well--you learn in those moments that there is more to communication than syllables and syntax. Everyone at the church was so kind and so willing to share with me. We had a service in which the pastor was reminding us to be thankful for all things--even those that seem "bad." After the service, we had a Thanksgiving dinner in the middle of the pastor's home. Somewhere in the midst of passing the stuffing and being offered more sweet potatoes, it hit me that I was sitting in the home of total strangers as they asked me questions about my life and fed me their food off of their plates. They also gave me my name sign in sign language--the letter "s" in a smiling movement near the mouth. I love that total strangers were able to name me in a few hours with a gesture that conveys so much of my heart, a life overflowing with joy.
During my time at Horizons, I sadly realized just how cynical I have become in regard to church. It is so difficult for me to trust the sincerity of other Christians within church settings at times. I have become so jaded with the hierarchy that I am too quick to assume that the system of church and the people within it are only out to sell me something or to use me. I can know logically that this is not true, but experiences have taught me otherwise in some cases. Thus, the people of Crossroads encouraged me greatly. They already knew my reason for being there; they knew that I wasn't looking for a church, and especially due to the distance from my university, I wasn't likely to start going there on a regular basis. But, they treated me as family anyway, and their quiet kindness gave me a warm healing. I also think that this experience gave me a preview of how my life will be lived--dependent on God and free to be welcomed by the kindness of strangers. Overall, although it was out of my comfort zone initially, it was very much a New Testament church kind of experience.
In other thoughts, I recently received my student teaching placement for next semester. I am quite excited. Being a detail-oriented researcher, I googled the school and the teacher with whom I'll be working. The home page welcomed me with a reminder from God that He is always in control: Hedgesville High School: Home of the Eagles! Eagles have become a theme this year. I was given assignment a while back to think of an animal that was representative of me or that represented strength to me in some way. After living at the Eagle's Nest this summer, eagles came rather naturally to my mind. After doing some research, I found that eagles carry some characteristics that offer some interesting spiritual insight:
1) They're master fliers. They are huge birds, and if they put too much effort into flying, they will essentially wear themselves out so much that they'll kill themselves. Thus, their proficiency in flying resides in waiting patiently for a wind thermal to carry them as they soar to where they need to go. On these wind thermals, they fly to heights that no other bird can reach.
2) They're master fishermen.
3) They fly alone.
4) They live on higher ground.
5) They are extremely bold, powerful, and courageous as they fly through storm clouds when most other birds would hide in safety.
6) They are majestic.
7) They are faithful to their mates for life.
8) They are very patient, waiting for their prey sometimes for hours.
9) They have two sets of eyes.
10) They build nests in the wilderness.
11) They have contrasting color patterns and are noticeable from a distance.
With all of that said, after googling my facilitating teacher, I found out that she is award-winning and was the 2007 foreign language teacher in the state. While I don't put much stock in man-pleasing awards, I was interested in what she said during an interview. She mentioned that she incorporates service learning into her Spanish classes and that she believes that the most important part of learning a foreign language is communication. With these comments, I am excited to work with her since I share at least those sentiments. I don't want to jump the gun on this; however, with these things in mind, I can fully see that God is in control of even the smallest details in my life.
At any rate, I'm in the home stretch of this semester and am so thrilled that I will be going to Honduras in a mere 23 days. I feel so very blessed that God is allowing me to go back so soon, and like a fish out of water, I feel as if I need it greatly. I am so thrilled to be able to see my family there again.
Thanks for keeping up with me,
Sarah
It has been quite a while since I have updated, so I figured I'd go ahead and let you know what's been going on. Thanksgiving break went very well. It was nice to spend some time with my family and to get away from campus for a while.
Last Wednesday, I had the opportunity to speak at Horizons Church youth group where my sister goes on a regular basis. I had no idea what to expect, and to be honest, I had forgotten that I had even agreed to speak until the day before. I am not someone that does much formal preparation when speaking to others, even if it's a large group. I would rather my heart be prepared to be a clean vessel of God's message than have the right words and timing all planned out. I hadn't been in a formal church setting in quite a while, and it had been even longer since I had been in a youth group. It reminded me of my youth group days, and the kids at Horizons were awesome. The praise and worship songs that they played were practically my playlist for this year with "Blessed Be Your Name" and "Lead Me to the Cross." And once again, God had to gently nudge me about another area of life that needed to be surrendered and lost. Speaking went well, and the message that God seemed to give me was the same simple one He resonates in my life on a daily basis--life on God's terms is infinitely better than anything we could imagine for ourselves. He wants us to stop assuming that we know what is best for ourselves and invite Him into every single detail and decision in life. To do that, we must lose all--our dreams, our desires, our hopes, and our fears. We must trust that God knows best and have faith that God loves us perfectly--enough to give us His best. The other day, I was astounded with the realization that God is control of my life. God--the one and only God--loves me enough to take control of my life when I ask Him to. He could completely leave me alone to my own vices, refusing to rescue me from myself. But, He willingly embraces the failure that I am and takes joy in leading me by the hand to Himself and His blessings. I can't help but marvel and His humility in this way. He is all-powerful, yet He doesn't forget me.
Last Saturday, I had a wonderful opportunity to go to Crossroads Deaf Baptist Church in Frederick, Maryland. As part of my sign language class, I was required to experience some elements of deaf culture. I found this church online, and I e-mailed the pastor. Although I was rather nervous because it was a potluck to be held at the pastor's house, and it seemed like a small church (which meant no disappearing into the background), I went this past Sunday. As I sat in my car a bit early, staring at the apartment building and wondering what I had gotten myself into, something God said during my first summer of living in Honduras rang in my ears: "Sarah, is the church My house? Because if it is My house, and you are My child, you are free to move about My house without fear." Thus, with this in mind, and feeling as if God had orchestrated circumstances so as to send me to this place, I went. It was a wonderful experience. While there was only one deaf woman there, she was truly delightful, and we were able to communicate well. It made me miss the early days of Honduras before I could speak the language very well--you learn in those moments that there is more to communication than syllables and syntax. Everyone at the church was so kind and so willing to share with me. We had a service in which the pastor was reminding us to be thankful for all things--even those that seem "bad." After the service, we had a Thanksgiving dinner in the middle of the pastor's home. Somewhere in the midst of passing the stuffing and being offered more sweet potatoes, it hit me that I was sitting in the home of total strangers as they asked me questions about my life and fed me their food off of their plates. They also gave me my name sign in sign language--the letter "s" in a smiling movement near the mouth. I love that total strangers were able to name me in a few hours with a gesture that conveys so much of my heart, a life overflowing with joy.
During my time at Horizons, I sadly realized just how cynical I have become in regard to church. It is so difficult for me to trust the sincerity of other Christians within church settings at times. I have become so jaded with the hierarchy that I am too quick to assume that the system of church and the people within it are only out to sell me something or to use me. I can know logically that this is not true, but experiences have taught me otherwise in some cases. Thus, the people of Crossroads encouraged me greatly. They already knew my reason for being there; they knew that I wasn't looking for a church, and especially due to the distance from my university, I wasn't likely to start going there on a regular basis. But, they treated me as family anyway, and their quiet kindness gave me a warm healing. I also think that this experience gave me a preview of how my life will be lived--dependent on God and free to be welcomed by the kindness of strangers. Overall, although it was out of my comfort zone initially, it was very much a New Testament church kind of experience.
In other thoughts, I recently received my student teaching placement for next semester. I am quite excited. Being a detail-oriented researcher, I googled the school and the teacher with whom I'll be working. The home page welcomed me with a reminder from God that He is always in control: Hedgesville High School: Home of the Eagles! Eagles have become a theme this year. I was given assignment a while back to think of an animal that was representative of me or that represented strength to me in some way. After living at the Eagle's Nest this summer, eagles came rather naturally to my mind. After doing some research, I found that eagles carry some characteristics that offer some interesting spiritual insight:
1) They're master fliers. They are huge birds, and if they put too much effort into flying, they will essentially wear themselves out so much that they'll kill themselves. Thus, their proficiency in flying resides in waiting patiently for a wind thermal to carry them as they soar to where they need to go. On these wind thermals, they fly to heights that no other bird can reach.
2) They're master fishermen.
3) They fly alone.
4) They live on higher ground.
5) They are extremely bold, powerful, and courageous as they fly through storm clouds when most other birds would hide in safety.
6) They are majestic.
7) They are faithful to their mates for life.
8) They are very patient, waiting for their prey sometimes for hours.
9) They have two sets of eyes.
10) They build nests in the wilderness.
11) They have contrasting color patterns and are noticeable from a distance.
With all of that said, after googling my facilitating teacher, I found out that she is award-winning and was the 2007 foreign language teacher in the state. While I don't put much stock in man-pleasing awards, I was interested in what she said during an interview. She mentioned that she incorporates service learning into her Spanish classes and that she believes that the most important part of learning a foreign language is communication. With these comments, I am excited to work with her since I share at least those sentiments. I don't want to jump the gun on this; however, with these things in mind, I can fully see that God is in control of even the smallest details in my life.
At any rate, I'm in the home stretch of this semester and am so thrilled that I will be going to Honduras in a mere 23 days. I feel so very blessed that God is allowing me to go back so soon, and like a fish out of water, I feel as if I need it greatly. I am so thrilled to be able to see my family there again.
Thanks for keeping up with me,
Sarah
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
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
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
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Visas and Valleys of Death
Hello All,
I know that it has been a long time since I last posted, but I did want to update you on the visa adventure and how life in general is going at this point.
Roy had his visa interview yesterday, and he didn't get it. Thus, he won't be visiting me this year. I won't lie--it is disappointing, and there is a sense of the loss of possibility involved. But, we had been praying only for God's will. I specifically did not pray that he would get it because I wanted God's best, God's choice. Thus, I am grateful because I fully believe that we got exactly what we asked for--His answer, His best, His will. With that said, it has created a new sense of loss for me in terms of Honduras. I have already been in overdrive in terms of homesickness, and now, the realization that it will be a full year before I will return is difficult. It's a bit like leaving all over again. I know that I will be there soon enough, and I have many things to take care of here still. But, home is home no matter how distant it may be.
Meanwhile, it is reaching that time in the semester where I am dumbfounded that the year is going by so fast, but I'm also so exhausted that part of me is ready for it to end. I am nearly done field work for the semester. I have my last half-day tomorrow. I am grateful, for this has been the best field experience I've had in Shepherd's education program. Rather than being stuck merely observing for hours on end, my facilitating teacher trusted me enough to let me grade and just jump in and teach whenever I wanted. I loved it! I have grown attached to the kids in the short time that I have been around them, and I will miss them greatly. This experience has been a reminder of how much I genuinely love students and will likely enjoy that element of student teaching, but it has also reminded me that I have absolutely no desire to work within the US public school system. Realistically, even if I wasn't moving to Honduras, I don't believe I'd want a job within the US public school system. As many of my friends know, I could rant endlessly about my frustrations with the system, but for the sake of sparing you all, I will say that I am just grateful that it seems that God is steering me elsewhere.
My other classes are going well, and I've been busy with lots of tutoring appointments. It seems that I split my time between classes that, oddly enough, all incorporate some kind of physical movement (painting, sign language, and self-defense) and teaching (field work, education class, tutoring). I am surprised by how necessary it is for me to incorporate movement into my life.
Along those same lines, I've been in a rut in terms of running for the past few weeks. This is my eleventh week of running although my mileage has considerably dropped over the past couple of weeks. I can always tell where I am spiritually by how I'm running or how difficult it is for me to run--to put it quite simply, right now, I'm exhausted. It's a bit difficult to find the energy to do anything at this point--which is of course the time when I need to press on the most, I know. For the sake of a good story, I will say that in the midst of slacking, I had my first 5K race this past Saturday. It was a great experience. I signed up for it a month ago on a whim, and my dad was so kind and came up to support me. I really enjoyed the time we spent together, and it was so nice to not feel so alone in the experience. I had already made peace with being the last person in the race, so I wasn't really worried about my time or my placement. I just wanted to run. I had never seen the course before, and the race was in Frederick, Maryland which meant we had to get up unbelievably early to make the 45 minute drive over there. The course was primarily through a cemetery, and given all that I'm learning about loss and death this year, I knew that couldn't possibly be an accident. Thus, I just invited God to join me on the run and show me what He wanted. He brought to mind Psalm 23--a scripture that Mamí Nelly told me last summer is very significant for me anyway. Verse 4 is what came to mind the most as I was running past rows of tombstones covering in flower arrangements: Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. . .
In the weeks leading up to this race, God was dealing with me on some pretty serious past issues. It was not easy, and I spent a few days struggling, avoiding, and fighting with myself and God. He brought me back to Matthew 10:
If you don't go all the way with me, through thick and thin, you don't deserve me. If your first concern is to look after yourself, you'll never find yourself. But if you forget about yourself and look to me, you'll find both yourself and me.
I've come back to this scripture a lot since I've been back to Honduras, and I keep it in mind in terms of moving. But, what God was getting at this time was that He wanted to take me through some past memories and situations to uproot some lies and show me the truth. It was much easier for me to imagine and commit to moving to Honduras than it was to journey through the past pain of these memories. Another scripture that God reminded me of during this time was in Matthew 18:
I'm telling you, once and for all, that unless you return to square one and start over like little children, you're not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in. Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God's kingdom.
God was pretty clearly saying me that I had to allow myself to be a child that needed rescued. So, although it was painful, when I allowed God to journey with me through my past and face old struggles, I finally experienced truth and peace. It was so necessary even if it was draining and exhausting.
So, getting back to the race. . .
After going through a lot of "death" of self, I asked God what He meant by that scripture in Psalm 23, and He merely said, "Everyone thinks that the valley of the shadow of death is the most terrible place to be, but the reason that you don't have to fear any evil is that death isn't evil. Death is the exact place I call you to. There is no better place to be than in my will." This message was an unbelievable comfort to me throughout the race and in the midst of the situation with Roy not getting his visa now--I almost welcome the loss and the death, knowing that it is where He has called me to be. The other element of death is burial--depositing something in the ground to protect it for safekeeping, to save something beneath the earth. I obviously have no control over anything in my life; it's much better if I let it all die and reside in the safekeeping of my Father. I believe to further encourage me, God allowed me to get second place in the 5K (I will honestly note that it wasn't a huge race and didn't have many runners, so that's not very impressive) and to run the best time I have ever run. Once again, running (and life) is all about focus--I was looking to Him.
With love,
Sarah
I know that it has been a long time since I last posted, but I did want to update you on the visa adventure and how life in general is going at this point.
Roy had his visa interview yesterday, and he didn't get it. Thus, he won't be visiting me this year. I won't lie--it is disappointing, and there is a sense of the loss of possibility involved. But, we had been praying only for God's will. I specifically did not pray that he would get it because I wanted God's best, God's choice. Thus, I am grateful because I fully believe that we got exactly what we asked for--His answer, His best, His will. With that said, it has created a new sense of loss for me in terms of Honduras. I have already been in overdrive in terms of homesickness, and now, the realization that it will be a full year before I will return is difficult. It's a bit like leaving all over again. I know that I will be there soon enough, and I have many things to take care of here still. But, home is home no matter how distant it may be.
Meanwhile, it is reaching that time in the semester where I am dumbfounded that the year is going by so fast, but I'm also so exhausted that part of me is ready for it to end. I am nearly done field work for the semester. I have my last half-day tomorrow. I am grateful, for this has been the best field experience I've had in Shepherd's education program. Rather than being stuck merely observing for hours on end, my facilitating teacher trusted me enough to let me grade and just jump in and teach whenever I wanted. I loved it! I have grown attached to the kids in the short time that I have been around them, and I will miss them greatly. This experience has been a reminder of how much I genuinely love students and will likely enjoy that element of student teaching, but it has also reminded me that I have absolutely no desire to work within the US public school system. Realistically, even if I wasn't moving to Honduras, I don't believe I'd want a job within the US public school system. As many of my friends know, I could rant endlessly about my frustrations with the system, but for the sake of sparing you all, I will say that I am just grateful that it seems that God is steering me elsewhere.
My other classes are going well, and I've been busy with lots of tutoring appointments. It seems that I split my time between classes that, oddly enough, all incorporate some kind of physical movement (painting, sign language, and self-defense) and teaching (field work, education class, tutoring). I am surprised by how necessary it is for me to incorporate movement into my life.
Along those same lines, I've been in a rut in terms of running for the past few weeks. This is my eleventh week of running although my mileage has considerably dropped over the past couple of weeks. I can always tell where I am spiritually by how I'm running or how difficult it is for me to run--to put it quite simply, right now, I'm exhausted. It's a bit difficult to find the energy to do anything at this point--which is of course the time when I need to press on the most, I know. For the sake of a good story, I will say that in the midst of slacking, I had my first 5K race this past Saturday. It was a great experience. I signed up for it a month ago on a whim, and my dad was so kind and came up to support me. I really enjoyed the time we spent together, and it was so nice to not feel so alone in the experience. I had already made peace with being the last person in the race, so I wasn't really worried about my time or my placement. I just wanted to run. I had never seen the course before, and the race was in Frederick, Maryland which meant we had to get up unbelievably early to make the 45 minute drive over there. The course was primarily through a cemetery, and given all that I'm learning about loss and death this year, I knew that couldn't possibly be an accident. Thus, I just invited God to join me on the run and show me what He wanted. He brought to mind Psalm 23--a scripture that Mamí Nelly told me last summer is very significant for me anyway. Verse 4 is what came to mind the most as I was running past rows of tombstones covering in flower arrangements: Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. . .
In the weeks leading up to this race, God was dealing with me on some pretty serious past issues. It was not easy, and I spent a few days struggling, avoiding, and fighting with myself and God. He brought me back to Matthew 10:
If you don't go all the way with me, through thick and thin, you don't deserve me. If your first concern is to look after yourself, you'll never find yourself. But if you forget about yourself and look to me, you'll find both yourself and me.
I've come back to this scripture a lot since I've been back to Honduras, and I keep it in mind in terms of moving. But, what God was getting at this time was that He wanted to take me through some past memories and situations to uproot some lies and show me the truth. It was much easier for me to imagine and commit to moving to Honduras than it was to journey through the past pain of these memories. Another scripture that God reminded me of during this time was in Matthew 18:
I'm telling you, once and for all, that unless you return to square one and start over like little children, you're not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in. Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God's kingdom.
God was pretty clearly saying me that I had to allow myself to be a child that needed rescued. So, although it was painful, when I allowed God to journey with me through my past and face old struggles, I finally experienced truth and peace. It was so necessary even if it was draining and exhausting.
So, getting back to the race. . .
After going through a lot of "death" of self, I asked God what He meant by that scripture in Psalm 23, and He merely said, "Everyone thinks that the valley of the shadow of death is the most terrible place to be, but the reason that you don't have to fear any evil is that death isn't evil. Death is the exact place I call you to. There is no better place to be than in my will." This message was an unbelievable comfort to me throughout the race and in the midst of the situation with Roy not getting his visa now--I almost welcome the loss and the death, knowing that it is where He has called me to be. The other element of death is burial--depositing something in the ground to protect it for safekeeping, to save something beneath the earth. I obviously have no control over anything in my life; it's much better if I let it all die and reside in the safekeeping of my Father. I believe to further encourage me, God allowed me to get second place in the 5K (I will honestly note that it wasn't a huge race and didn't have many runners, so that's not very impressive) and to run the best time I have ever run. Once again, running (and life) is all about focus--I was looking to Him.
With love,
Sarah
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