Searching. . .
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searching for some words to express. . .

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whatever is going on inside. . .

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Looking for even ONE word. . .

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My vocabulary isn't big enough

I told him I would paint him something.
But the canvas is still blank.

Am I too late?

Or is it never too late to keep a promise?

I think I will try.

Yes, That's Me

Who is this person looking back at me in the miror. She seems nice enough. If you really knew her I think you would realize what a treasure she is. Not because of anything great she says or does, but because she believes whole-heartedly that God loves and accepts you no matter what and so does she. And that kind of love can only come from the fact that she believes that God loves her and accepts her no matter what. If you really knew her you would know that despite all her flaws and silly issues, she really only cares about pleasing the Lord and being "peachy" with all mankind. Can't we all just get along? If you really knew her you would realize that just because she doesn't talk to you doesn't mean she doesn't care. She just isn't great at small talk. She's always thinking about something. If you really knew her you would know how utterly silly she is, how she loves to go on little adventures, loves to play in the rain, loves to revel in her own dorkiness, loves to lay out on the floor and worship Jesus to some powerhouse worship songs, loves her family, loves getting into lives of people of other cultures, loves the sky. If you really knew her, you would know she is never content with mundane, never content with typical, never content with average, never content with comfortable... which is funny that her name means "contented one." If you knew her you would realize how fragile, scarred, and vulnerable she is even when she tries so hard to be strong. The walls she builds to protect herself are not that difficult to get over...there's an unlocked door for anyone who cares to find it. If you knew her you would realize that time spent means more than any words, any touch, any gift, any apology. She may seem distant and aloof; she may not wear her heart on her sleave; she may be hard to read sometimes; but she's got something special and unique. And the only reason I can say this about her is cause Jesus told me so. He told me she is his favorite! And if he think she's worth knowing, than I'm gonna trust Him. He knows what He's talking about. And anyone who doesn't agree, well, they have no idea what they are missing and I pitty them.

I get such a kick out of this.

There are other underlined things occasionally throughout my blogging, and incase you didn't know: they are links.

Heroes

Heroes, all of them,at least they're my heroes, especially the new immigrants, especially the refugees. Everyone makes fun of the New York cab drivers who can't speak English: they're heroes. To give up your country is the hardest thing a person can do: to leave the old familiar places and ship out over the edge of the world to America and learn everything over again different than you learned as a child, learn the new language that you will never be so smart or funny in as in your true language. It takes years to start to feel semi-normal. And yet people still come from Russia, Vietnam and Cambodia and Laos, Ethiopia, Iran, Haiti, Korea, Cuba, Chile, and they come on behalf of their children, and they come for freedom. Not for our land (Russia is as beautiful), not for our culture (they have their own, thank you), not for our system of government (they don't even know about it, maybe not even agree with it), but for freedom. They are heroes who make an adventure on our behalf, showing by their struggle how precious beyond words freedom is, and if we knew their stories, we could not keep back the tears. --Garrison Keillor

He Walks With Me

I come to the garden alone

While the dew is still on the roses

And the voice I hear,

falling on my ear

The Son of God discloses.

And he walks with me

And he talks with me

And he tells me I am His own

And the joy we share as we tarry there

None other has ever known.

He speaks and the sound of His voice

Is so sweet the birds hush their singing

And the melody that He gave to me

Within my heart is ringing.

And he walks with me

And he talks with me

And He tells me I am His own

And the joy we share as we tarry there

None other has ever known.

I'd stay in the garden with Him

Tho the night around me be falling

But He bids me go;

through the voice of woe

His voice to me is calling.

And He walks with me

And He talks with me

And He tells me I am His own

And the joy we share as we tarry there

None other has ever known

Muslim Eyes

Ayaan Hirsi

I had the most interesting conversation with a client. Amun is the sweetest little Somali girl you'd ever meet. She's soft spoken, pretty, petite, and friendly. But some things that came out of her mouth shocked me.
It is Ramadan now. Ramadan is the Muslim month of fasting and praying. They fast from sun-up to sun-down, then gorge themselves at night and early morning. We had the most interesting conversation about her religion. She mentioned that she knows of a Christian girl who converted to Islam. I in turn said that I know some Muslims who've converted to Christianity. That is when she began to talk about Ayaan Hirsi. Amun hates Ayaan Hirsi. She said that Ayaan Hirsi is a very bad person and "we want to kill her." She told me how Ayaan Hirsi is a Somali woman who converted to Christianity and now speaks out against Islam, Muhammad, and the Qur'an. This sweet girl contorted as she spoke of this woman, her hate became a fire in her eyes and her kindness erased. She spoke of wanting to murder this woman and felt completely justified. She said anyone who kills Ayaan Hirsi will go straight to heaven. I was shocked by the blatant wickedness and was unsure how to respond. I said that killing is never ok, that it is God's job to chose who will live and who will die. She agreed with me but then said how Ayaan Hirsi is so bad for speaking against Muhammad and the Qur'an she must be killed. Wow. It was intense.

I did some research on Ayaan Hirsi. This woman definitely speaks very openly against Islam, but she is not a Christian. She is a professed atheist. It is interesting me that Amun called her a Christian. I suppose to her, anyone who is not a Muslim must be Christian, or at least any one who is influenced by Western thought.
What an insight into the Muslim mindset. They don't even know what a real Christan is. I would like for Amun to know. I would like to tell her. But I am afraid. Please pray for me. This job I have is so strategic. God has placed me in the paths of so many who need to know him. What an obvious opportunity I have to share the Truth. Please pray that I won't let it pass me by. The seriousness of this position I am in is a bit overwhelming.

Despite her broken English we talked for two hours. This is just one of the topics we discussed, but I found it disturbing and facinating. I think my interest in her caused her to build trust and respect in me. She's normally very timid because of her insecurity with her English. There's no doubt in my mind that there's some serious warfare to be had for these lives. She has a name. She has a face. She has a life. Her heart is black with hate. Still she is loved by God. And He wants her.

Mysteriously Hugged

I'm convinced that God is in the wind. Or at least he can be.
Maybe it was the fact that I didn't wear enough layers and I got goose bumps from the chill...
Maybe it was the fact that I had minutes earlier accidentally run over a squirrel and was feeling incredibly bad about it.
Or maybe, just maybe ... God was in the wind.

I took a walk in the park and sat myself down on a bench near the man-made pond. And that's when the wind blew, and I felt Him. It was a gentle, loving reminder that He's here and He loves me. Perhaps He is always in the wind, but we are too busy to notice. But when you are still, and quiet, and near water for some reason, and you are alone... there He is. It's a beautiful thing.

Surviving Obnoxious

God is teaching me about hope lately. This mainly because I had gotten my hopes up about something only to have them crushed. It hurt a lot. I literally had the thought that I hated to hope because it can lead to such disappointment. But then I remember that verse that says just the opposite: hope does not disappoint.... but it is when we put our hope in the Lord! And I can trust that when I put my hope in him I will not be disappointed. This is so comforting.

I have still been feeling restless even after taking the vacation intended to renew me. Still I feel restless. I was intensely motivated today to get out of debt so that I can go. I want to go to Africa. I met a girl Sunday who spent some time in Mozambique with Rolland and Heidi Bakers team. I can't wait to hear more about her experiences. It is going to take me more than two years to get out of debt if I am a good girl and don't spend too much on frivolous things.

I was reminded again today though, that perhaps the reason I constantly feel restless is because there is more for me than this. I don't think I was meant to live the normal American life. I know that if I settled for that (which would be EXTREMELY easy to do, which is scary because the possibility is so real and ... possible) I would not be living life to the fullest or in God's perfect will. I still don't know what I'm supposed to be doing and where I am supposed to be. I take my eyes off of him so easily.

I am not like other people. I cannot be satisfied with normal. I cannot be content with average or mundane. My soul longs for more than the everyday. My passions go so far beyond trendy clothes, nice cars, and big bank accounts. I would be totally selling out if I gave in to that life style where those things mattered more than people. I don't think those things are bad or wrong, but I just know in my depths that there is something different for me. How terribly easy it would be to get comfortable there... and I admit I have more than I'm proud of. I've spent more money on shopping this past year then I want to admit. I have a wonderful awesome car. And I spend money like I have some. These things are all great. But my heart longs for more. I'm impatient to know what that More is.

Above all, I feel a discontentment just being in this world. I want so badly just to be with Jesus and be free from all the silly cares and worries that drag me down and make me forget Him. Things like boys, money, work, friends, sin and condemnation, entertainment, family even. I just want to leave it all behind and bury myself in His arms for the rest of eternity. It makes me lazy to want to live here. But I am here, and I'm not yet in His arms. So what can I do to pass the time? I might as well do something worth while, and I'm sure he has plans for what that would be. I just pray that I will be sensitive enough to his voice to not only listen, but obey. Obeying is the hard part.

My God is so good and kind to me. More gentle than any lover could be. Oh how I long for his presence. Lord give me the grace to put up with another day on this obnoxious earth.

You are worthy!
Be praised, You Who Lived Your Life Sinless!

It was strictly forbidden to preach to other prisoners, as it is in captive nations today. It was understood that whoever was caught doing this received a severe beating. A number of us decided to pay the price for the privilege of preaching, so we excepted their terms. It was a deal: we preached and they beat us. We were happy preaching; they were happy beating us - so everyone was happy." - Richard Wurmbrand

Adventure by Bus

Yesterday I road the city bus for nearly three hours. Riding the city bus is quite the adventure for a small town girl like me who's used to the safety of her own vehicle with locks on the doors. I was giving bus training to my clients who were starting their job. The bus ride from St. Paul to North Minneapolis is no picnic. Trying to teach something (like bus riding) that I'm no expert at is also interesting, and trying to teach a couple guys with VERY limited English on top of that makes for a super day. Things went pretty smoothly and I got them to their job. Then had to take the bus back ALONE. I had to wait for the bus for much too long in the worst part of town. It wasn't coming so I just hopped on the next bus that came knowing that I'd eventually find my way back home. Had to wait for a transfer by the Gay 90s club. Road the bus back to work where I got off a couple blocks a bit too early so I had to walk it. There was a middle aged white man in a big redneck truck honking at me, waving me down asking if I wanted a ride. He rounded the block to cut me off as I tried to cross the street to ask me again if I wanted a ride. He followed me all over. It was so creepy.
So I guess that concludes my bus adventure.
It was a good experience for me though. Helps me to empathize with my clients as to what they go through daily, dealing with creepy people and long bus rides. And it helps me to appreciate a car SO much more! If you ever begin to take your blessings for granted try living without them for a day, or a couple hours at least.