Dear _____,

Little gecko friend…  If laughter provides a bond, well, we had quite a bonding experience, didn’t we?  I thought your sticky little feet were capable of holding you on any surface, but when you tried to dash up my tiled kitchen walls, you started sliding down again, in spite of your obvious efforts to the contrary.  Alright, so maybe the bond was a bit one-sided.  I’m not sure you thought it was that funny.  But, oh, if you could have seen yourself!!

Tea kettle…  Maybe you didn’t think you’d be getting so much use during the hot season, but yes, I still like my tea.  And coffee (instant).  And Ovaltine.

Guys at the little shops across from each other…  Ugh.  You reminded me how bad I am with math.  My purchase cost 1500.  Guy #1, you didn’t have change for my 5000 bill (a common dilemma), so you sent me to Guy #2, who took it and gave me 4000 in change.  I turned away and just stood there for a minute, trying to mentally calculate the transaction.  “Okay, what am I supposed to do with this?”  I walked back to Guy #1, who took one of my 1000 bills and gave me a 500 back.  Goodness, my head was spinning.  I don’t know which of you ended up owing the other, but as I long as I didn’t owe anything…

Pink wrap-around skirt…  You’ve become my Saturday-around-the-house skirt.  You’re cool, comfortable, and very African.  Such a fun welcome gift!

Vulture…  I was taking clothes down from the line and had this unnerving sense that I was being watched.  So I turned around, but instead of one of the neighbors, I saw you perched on the ledge, staring down at me as if… Well, I’m not exactly sure what you were thinking.  I’d be a little bit much for your next meal.  Still, I didn’t like the way you were staring.

Corn stalks across the road…  You’re growing in that rubble heap like you belong there.  It seems a little incongruous, I’ll admit, but I’m desperate for any green I can get.  So grow away!

Construction workers…  I’ve seen (and heard) you working Monday-Friday…then Saturday and Sunday, too.  Do you ever get a break?

Blister between two toes…  You’re in a very inconvenient (and rather puzzling) place, you know that?

Green-and-brown quilt…  I can’t wait to take you out of that action packer and put you on the bed.  Cool season is just around the corner!

Brain…  Look, I know you’re feeling rather tired and over-worked, but really.  That’s no excuse.  I count on you.  You MUST do what you’re supposed to, one example being to keep the rest of my body coordinated, so I don’t trip repeatedly on my way to class.  It’s kind of embarrassing, you know.

Bougainvilleas in cream and fuchsia… You’re an unexpected splash of loveliness.  Sometimes I go out on my patio just to look at your colorful vines cascading down from the neighbor’s patio.

Horses “next door” (just outside my building, that is)…  What in the world were you two fighting about?!  It sounded positively frightful, and this head-butting stuff…I thought only sheep, goats, and deer, etc. did that.  You got so out of hand that there were even guys throwing rocks at you to try to break up the fight.  Maybe you should consider taking peace-making classes or something.

Shoe box of crafty stuff…  You were definitely worth bringing.  It’s been fun to make, give, and use cards and more.  Having a good creative outlet is essential, I say.  (For me it is, anyway. :))

Boys playing outside…  It appears that American little boys are not alone in their affinity for sticks.  Careful now!

Heat…  You’ve forced me to make rest a habit.  (And I was definitely in need of that habit.)  I haven’t yet mastered the art of power-napping, but I can lie down and close my eyes with the best of them!

FM radio app on my phone…  I didn’t really take notice of you until the other day, and I was curious to see if you’d actually work here.  Amidst all the French and Wolof channels, there was a decidedly Latin station.  For one glorious minute I was back home in California…until the announcer came on, speaking French.  Reality check.

Lights…  I’m glad to have you, but the way you flicker half a dozen times before coming on is both puzzling and slightly irksome.  Just sayin’.

Many-legged creature in my bathroom…  I didn’t count, so I don’t know whether you had a hundred legs or a thousand.  Probably neither.  Anyway, what I wanted to say was this: you probably thought that since I’m always talking about the gecko, I welcome anything and everything that crawls.  (Did you miss the memo about the cockroach?)  Sorry, I’m selective about the critters I allow to live in my apartment.  I may not be able to keep the undesirables out, but I am capable of rather ruthless squashing.

Product labels with a gazillion languages…  The sheer variety can be quite impressive!  Obviously I look for English first.  Then Spanish.  Failing that, I will settle for Portuguese.  (It’s similar enough to Spanish that I can usually get the gist of things.)  If you have none of those three, I’m lost.  Reading French is still pretty hit-and-miss.

Snippets

Some pictures of (mostly) everyday life...

 

 

My first bus ticket (from some weeks ago)

 

 

Looking out from my patio

 

 

 

What I see from my hall window: two horses and LOTS of bricks

 

(Yes, there are two horses there.  The white horse is hard to see.)

 

 

Wretched thing...

 

 

Marinated tomatoes and cucumbers

 

 

This is not everyday life!  It was an unexpected (and happy) discovery made by the lady who buys supplies for the folks serving out in villages.

 

Cheddar cheese.  A whole kilo.  There's no telling if or when we'll see it in a store again, but...I got my quail.  (And no, I have not eaten it all.  It's safely stowed away in the freezer, and I'm determined to make it last.)

 

 

Meet my gecko :)

 

 

And more not-everyday-life: my first box from home!  I would say my first package, but there was a small padded envelope a few weeks back, and I'm not sure if that counts as a package or not.  Anyway, I was quite pleased.  Real mail, as you must know, is my one weakness.

Why the Wilderness? (Part 2)

How in the world did a people delivered and bound for the land of promise end up in a desert for forty years?

Unbelief, Scripture tells us.  (Hebrew 3:17-19)

Unbelief has a twin sister: Unthankfulness.  I find it hard to imagine one without the other.

If we fully believe, if we fully trust in God’s character, we will be thankful people.  If we refuse to trust Him, unthankfulness and grumbling naturally follow.  We cannot be grumbling and trusting Him simultaneously; they are mutually exclusive.

Each moment we spend complaining is a moment in which we are ignoring His blessings – all of them undeserved.

I’m not saying all this because thankfulness is a lesson I can check off my list.  I’m saying this – to myself first – because it is something I struggle with every. single. day.

As pathetically slow to learn as the Israelites may have been, I can point no fingers.  I can only read their stories and see myself reflected in them time and time again.

Those horribly ungrateful people – God fed them for forty years.  Gave them water.  Kept their shoes from wearing out.  And what was their response?  Grumbling and complaining at every turn.

They were so blind they couldn’t see that their attitude in the wilderness was the very attitude that landed them there in the first place.

They could have lived lives full of joy and peace and abundance in the Promised Land.  They could have gone straight from the miracle of deliverance to receiving the promises God had given them.

They chose unthankfulness instead.

Chose.

And it was a tragic choice.

Years have passed.  Those desert-wanderers have all died.  Yet the heart of unbelief still beats strong, enticing us to thankless living.

How often we give in.  How often we spurn His gifts, refuse to trust, or simply take His goodness for granted.

And still He feeds the grumblers with His manna.  Every. single. day.

Grace, all beautiful grace.

Why the Wilderness? (Part 1)

They had seen God’s leading, unmistakably clear in the pillars of cloud and of fire.  They had watched Him overcome every obstacle that threatened to undo them.  They had His promise – new life in a new land that He was going to give them.

But somewhere between Egypt and the Promised Land, they found themselves in a wilderness.  Wandering.  For forty years.

Now the rabble that was among them had a strong craving.  And the people of Israel also wept again and said, "Oh that we had meat to eat!  We remember the fish we ate in Egypt that cost nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic.  But now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing at all but this manna to look at." (Numbers 11:4-6)

Can you hear the grumbling voices of two million people in the middle of a desert?  There is nothing at all but this miraculous, unfailing provision from God, and we are sick of it.  We want what we want.  We will weep and wail as if God is keeping the best from us, though it is actually because of His love that He has not given us these “lesser things”.

Astounding, isn’t it.

And somewhere in that sea of voices, I hear one that sounds frightfully like my own.  Oh, if only God hadn’t brought me here.  Oh, if I were only back in the States, where I ate cheese and meat and fresh green salads to my heart’s content.  It would have been easier if I had just stayed there.  Yes, He’s given me what I need for each day, but I’m tired of this manna.  I want something different.  Something more.

I have the audacity to ask for more?  To think His daily grace is not enough?

Yes.  I do.

I grumble.  I let a longing for what I used to have become idolatry.  And some days, I just can’t seem to keep myself from reminding God (over and over) how much I want to go back.

And the people spoke against God and against Moses: "Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness?  For there is no food and no water, and our soul loathes this worthless bread."  (Numbers 21:5)

Again, I hear myself.  I don’t actually speak the words, but I live like I believe them sometimes.  Yes, God, I know You give me exactly what I need for each day, but this isn’t what I want.  Worthless grace.

I stand among those millions, a modern-day Israelite, spurning the manna, wanting the leeks and garlic instead of the Promised Land.

How did they end up here, in the wilderness?  How did I end up here?

Dear _____,

I have other blog posts in the works this week, including some with pictures.  But for now, another episode of "Dear _____".

Sriracha…  To my sister, my brother-in-law, and my dad, I raise the bottle high.  …And then squirt you generously onto my food.

Corn tortillas whose package proudly proclaimed, "Recipe from Mexico"…  I feel it only fair to inform you: I am a self-appointed expert on the subject of Mexican food (thank you, California heritage), and you taste nothing like any other tortilla I’ve ever had before.  Fail.  Epic fail.  How could you even dare to call yourself a tortilla?!

Ceiling…  I would have preferred that you not decide to leak.  But since you did, thank you for choosing the bathroom instead of, say, right above my bed.  That was very considerate of you.

Fans…  I don’t think I would survive this season without you.  I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate you.

Tephra…  Have you forgotten me?  You never seem all that enthusiastic when I’m on Skype.  Even when I say your favorite word, walk, you just sort of…lay there.

Taco seasoning…  You’re like a magic powder to sprinkle on food and make it taste amazing.  Your flavors conjure up a warm, homey feeling.  No kitchen should be without you.

Sparrows…  You’re the same the world over, aren’t you?  You chirp and squabble and flit about the same way your cousins in the States do.  And you’re a reminder that my Heavenly Father cares for me, just like He cares for you.  (Luke 12:6-7)

Popcorn with ranch seasoning…  I think you’re quite possibly my favorite snack right now.  It was so nice of Esther to introduce us, wasn’t it?

Mrs. W…  Your faithful letter-writing is a rare thing.  And as much as I enjoyed real mail back home, it’s even more special here.

Striped rope curled up in the sand…  Yes, for a spilt second I did think you were a snake.  It’s good thing you weren’t, because my sandal-clad feet were only inches away when I first saw you.  I’m not sure what I would have done if you had been a snake.

Pringles…  First of all, I didn’t expect to see you here.  Second, I didn’t know you existed in flavors like paprika, bolognaise, and roasted chicken.

Neighbors…  Thank you for your instructive demonstrations on how to butcher a sheep (done within full view of my patio).  Maybe I’m not nearly as squeamish as I thought I was.

Instant coffee…  You’re not half bad (with sugar and coconut milk).  Or maybe it’s just been so long since I’ve had the real thing…

Ladies carrying huge loads on your heads…  How in the world do you do it - and not need a chiropractor?

"Beurre"…  You miserable imposter, you!  If you call yourself butter, you’d better not have a trace of vegetable fats in you.  I realized my mistake too late, but I don’t think I’ll be making the same one anytime soon.  Shudder.

Quick-cooking oats…  I haven’t figured out why you seem to have a faint perfume-y smell/taste.  Care to explain that to me?

Little children who call out, "Bon jour, madame!" as I walk past…  Your merry greeting and genuine smiles warm my heart.

Over-two-inch cockroach…  UGH!!!  I was sitting there, calmly eating my lunch, when I looked up, and there you were on my screen door.  The prospect of having to deal with you was most disagreeable, but upon investigation, I discovered you were on the outside of the screen.  What a relief.  However, the longer I looked at you crawling around, the more disgusted I became, until…well…it didn’t end so well for you, did it?  Hopefully your demise will be featured on the front page of the Cockroach Chronicles so the rest of your repulsive relatives will know I am not to be messed with.

Sandals…  You heroic things.  You’ve seen more cockroaches than a pest control company’s busiest inspector, yet you never flinch when I grab you (yet again) and whack you against whatever surface the vermin are crawling on.  …Well of course you don’t flinch.  You’re a pair of sandals!

Guy at the supermarket deli/meat counter…  Whoa!  What’s up with that knife?  I asked for half a dozen eggs – shells intact, please!  Oh, you’re only cutting the carton?  Whew.  You had me worried there for a minute.

Morning chorus of birds…  I like listening to you as the sun comes up.  There’s something familiar to your songs, and in a world of unfamiliarity, you are a welcome thing indeed.

Kitchen…  Doesn’t it feel good to be organized?!  I told you you’d like it.  You and I are a lot alike.  Or…maybe you’re only like me because I’m the one living here at present.  Well, either way, we’re both happy now, aren’t we?
 
Running gear…  I’m not sure if I should have bothered bringing you.  If I try to run on any of the roads/dirt paths nearby, I’m liable to trip and break my ankle.  Maybe I can do laps in my hallway…

Ten things...

…you may or may not know about me.  (Because evidently you’re supposed to do this sort of thing if you have a blog. ;))

1.  I am most definitely NOT a city girl - living in a city of 2.5 million has established that fact.  Growing up where I did, I certainly can’t claim to be a country girl, either.  No, I am a child of suburbia.  However, out of the two extremes, I’d have to say I’m much more at home in the country than in the city.

2.  Unlike certain members of my family, I don’t really care for ice cream.  I’m not sure if that makes me un-American or just plain weird, but whatever.

3.  Writing lists is therapeutic for me.  Cheap therapy, eh?  Only the cost of paper and ink.

4.  I enjoy hunting for the perfect word when I’m writing.  My thesaurus used to be my best friend.  Sometimes I’d even look through it just for fun.  Yes, really.

5.  I had braces – not once but twice.  (That might lead you to believe that my teeth were really bad.  They actually weren’t, it’s just that the problems I did have needed to be dealt with at different times.)

6.  I first started drinking coffee two years ago…almost exactly.  (No, I don’t remember the exact day.  I just remember that it was in October.)

7.  I’ve given an injection before.  (Saline solution, MTC health class.)

8.  I don’t know how to swim.  Rather absurd, given the fact that I’m in my twenties.  You’d think somewhere along the way I would have learned…

9.  I’ve never broken any bones.  (Mine or anyone else’s.)

10.  I’ve only flown across an ocean once, and that was to come here.  (Obviously.  How else would I have gotten here?  Walking, driving, or biking would have been a bit difficult, and we already established the fact that I can’t swim.)

Dear _____,

Nutella…  Okay, you’re kind of overpriced, but one of these days I’ll probably break down and buy you instead of your cousin, Chocoleca (a peanut version of Nutella).  Not that I dislike Chocoleca.

No-sugar added orange juice…  You taste suspiciously like grapefruit juice.  What’s up with that?  An identity crisis?

Motorcycles… I’ve learned to be okay with walking inches away from moving traffic, but you still scare me.  You come out of nowhere and you think the sidewalks are a passing lane.  Not cool.

Fresh baguettes…  You make me feel rather cosmopolitan as I walk away from the bakery with you sticking out from my bag.  I don’t know that everyone else necessarily shares that sentiment, but oh well.  Hee hee!

Big muddy puddles…  If I were a little boy, I might think you’re fun.  But I’m not.  And I don’t.  Especially when cars are passing…

Coconut milk…  You make a pretty decent substitute for milk in hot drinks (coffee, Ovaltine).  Better than soy milk at any rate.  So we won’t mention calories, will we?

Picture frames…  You are my one weakness.  I’m excited to get you hung up on my walls.

Niece and nephews in one of the above-mentioned frames…  I miss you somethin’ fierce.  I hate thinking about how you older two are going to be taller than me when I come back.  Promise you won’t get too big for hugs from Auntie Rachel?

Noisy neighbors…  Parties at 10:00 on the weekend?  Understandable.  Parties that go past 1:00 or 2:00?  Um…can you keep it down a bit?  Please?

Non-English speakers (which would be the majority of the population) wearing t-shirts in English (the majority of the t-shirts worn)…   I’ve seen everything from Cal Poly to autism awareness to “Awesome ends with me”.  I just laugh inwardly and think, “You have no idea…”

Sink that got plugged up…  Yes, that was kind of annoying, but as a result, I discovered that I missed my calling.  I should have been a plumber.  (Totally kidding!!)

Patio doors…  The view is decidedly drab, but the breeze you allow in is wonderful!

Moisturizing hand lotion…  With this humidity, I doubt I’ll be needing you anytime soon.  Consider yourself dismissed (at least temporarily).

Friend who is always forgetting to use hand lotion…  Are you sure you don’t want to come to West Africa?  Then you wouldn’t have to worry about me nagging you to put lotion on.

Itsy-bitsy gecko…  Yes, I mentioned you last time.  I’m quite taken with you, though, so I can’t help but do so again.  You’re adorable.  I keep my eyes open as I go about the apartment, wondering where I’ll see you next.  But hey, I told you to stay off my floor!  It’s a good thing you were in a corner, or else I might have stepped on you.

Ramen noodles and PB&J sandwiches…  In the absence of a microwave or many quick-and-easy meal options, you are two wonderful standbys.  I especially fancy a nice, hot bowl of Ramen noodles (with peas and sometimes an egg added – try it!).

Office/spare room…  You’re looking so much better now that I have those piles of paper off the desk!  I actually like you now.

Plastic clothespins…  I must confess, I have an irrational fear that you’ll break and then my clothes will go sailing away in the wind.

Everyone I try to talk to…  I’m sorry I sound like a two-year-old.  It’s as frustrating for me as it is for you.  Please be patient with me.

Middle-of-the-night thunderstorm…  Normally, I’d relish such a storm.  But not on a night when I barely got any sleep.  You didn’t have to be so enthusiastic with your rolls of thunder or so generous with your flashes of lightening.  Just this once, you kind of overdid it.

While-we-wait-in-traffic vendors…  It’s nice to know we have so many options should we feel the urge to spend, but we don’t.  Remote controls?  No thank you.  Sunglasses?  No thank you.  Cashews, phone cards, water?  No thank you.  Have a nice day!

Mom…  Our Friday Skype chats are the highlight of my week.  You’re the best, you know that?

Dear _____,

Fellow missionaries (specifically new ones) who want to greet me in French…  Look, hearing my own language is a privilege right now, and trust me, no one is impressed by your French.  Save the French for when you need it to communicate.  Be normal and use your mother tongue when speaking to those you share it with.   (Can you tell this is a pet peeve of mine?)

Little gecko I found in my room…  You’re the first non-insect life I’ve encountered in my apartment.  You’re so cute and tiny!  But please, stick to crawling on the walls. If you start crawling around on my floor and I happen to step on you in the dark…I’ll be traumatized and you’ll be dead.  And we don’t want that, do we?

Feet…  Sometimes I look down at you and wonder if you’ll ever be clean again.  Sandals, dusty roads, and lots of walking don’t mix too well.

Ovaltine…  You bring back happy memories of visiting Aunt Joyce and Uncle Dusty.  It was a nice surprise to find you here.

Hibiscus jelly…  How in the world does jelly made from a dried tropical flower taste reminiscent of sauce made from a berry that grows in a bog?

Lady who came to my door one night…  Okay, so you knew I was home.  But if I didn’t answer the door after the first five times you rang the doorbell, what made you think fifteen more times would change my mind?  It’s like this: I didn’t know you, and if I had answered the door, I wouldn’t have been able to understand anything you might have said.  It would have been pointless.  So there.

Person who designed my apartment building…  Um, I think you may have been a little rusty on your geometry.  Nothing seems to be straight – the walls, the floor, the door frames…

Mangoes…  I wish I would have paid more attention when people were saying mango season was almost over.  Now I can’t find you and I didn’t really get my fill of mangoes.

Fall…  I still believe in you, even though my senses tell me you don’t exist.  I know you’re real…somewhere.  Sniffle, sniffle.

Pinto beans and canned pumpkin…  You have no idea how happy I was to see you in a store.

Scented candles and fun mugs…  Ah, yes.  I’m glad I brought you with me.  You lend a touch of homey-ness (if that wasn’t a word, it is now) to everyday life.

Oven…  So you’re the hot-tempered kind, are you?  I would appreciate it if you learn to control yourself and not burn the goodies I plan to bring to class.  My baking reputation is going to be tarnished if I have to buy packaged cookies too many more times.

Early November…  People tell me you’re the magical time when the weather starts to get cool (“cold”, some of them say…).  Hurry up and get here!!

Cockroaches…  By virtue of the fact that you are alive and in my apartment, you deserve to die.  The End.

Smartphone…  Yes, there was a time when I wasn’t sure that you and I would ever learn to get along, but now we’re pretty good friends, aren’t we?

Laura Story…  I find myself singing your song Blessings almost every day.  It’s such a perfect song.

Stray kitty that hangs around on this street…  I wish I could adopt you, but that probably wouldn’t work out too well for either of us.  It’s just that you’re so irresistibly cute…

Bakery just down the street…  I feel a little spoiled!  Thanks to you, I can buy fresh baguettes or croissants (yummy!) or a whole array of other pastries anytime I want to.  (Not that I do on a regular basis, but still.  It’s kind of fun to have a place like that so close.)

Ladies dressed in traditional outfits…  I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of looking at all those different colors and patterns.  Fabrics are my one weakness.

Person who invented Skype…  I have no idea who you are, but I love you.

Thursday…  I think you may be one of my favorite days of the week.  When you roll around, I feel like it’s almost the weekend, and that makes me happy.

The Little Girl with the Pink Suitcase

I don’t think I could have been much more than 7 at the time, but all the way back then, missionary was part of my vocabulary.

I remember traipsing around the house with an old Mary Kay bag my aunt had given us, a smattering of my belongings crammed inside.  I remember sitting down with my sisters, sipping hot water from cups and pretending it was tea (’cause tea seemed like such a grown-up drink).  We read from Missionary Stories and the Millers and then we’d each pick a country to go to.  We’d board planes to faraway places to tell people about Jesus, just like in the stories.  All through my growing-up years, I devoured every missionary biography I could get my hands on, enthralled by the stories of these heroes of the faith.

Fifteen years later, I packed up suitcases that altogether weighed twice as much as much I did, flew across an ocean, and landed in a place I’d never been to before.

To be a missionary.

People have told me I’m brave, they’re proud of me, that I’ll do great.  I feel neither brave, nor confident, nor great.  I feel like one very small girl who has been given too big a job.

I’m now living the life I’ve dreamed of ever since I can remember.  But the reality is much different than I imagined it would be.  Turns out missionaries are pretty ordinary and unspectacular, and you don’t just step off a plane and start telling people about Jesus.  You came to share the Hope, but first you have to live the Hope – which means dying to self, and that’s painful.  And no matter how long you’ve wanted to do this, you still struggle and make mistakes and lose your focus and miss home like crazy.

That little girl with the pink suitcase had very little idea of all that would be involved and of just how hard it would be.  But she also couldn’t have foreseen the rich blessings that come from following Christ.  Nor did she realize just how big her God really was.

My story may not be finished yet, but I already know Who the hero is.

The Day I Stopped Believing in Time-Outs

Sometimes our ugliest stories are also the most beautiful.

We sat on my couch while I told her the whole tangled mess of selfishness and stubborn pride.  I knew what God wanted me to do in that situation, and I did. not. want to obey.  Not only that, but I didn’t want to want to obey.  It was ugly.  I finished my sorry account with, “And I just don’t want to trust God.”

For a split second, I thought she’d say something like, “Well, until you’re willing to submit and trust God, I can’t really help you.”  I’d heard that tune before.

But she didn’t.

She put both arms around me, pulled me close, and started praying.  I could not have been more miserably undeserving of love at that moment, and I was keenly aware of that.

Her response took me by surprise.  Somehow it didn’t fit in the framework of my understanding of God, my relationship with Him, and how sin was supposed to be dealt with.

For years and years, I’d lived with the idea that when I sinned, God put me in some sort of spiritual time-out.  I had to stay there until I felt good and sorry about what I’d done.  When I was sufficiently sorry (and had been sufficiently good to make up for things), He would let me back into fellowship with Him.

But I was wrong.  Dreadfully wrong.  My framework was off because I was missing the entire foundation: grace.

That day I started to understand. Grace means that God pulls me close when I’m a dirty, sinful mess, lavishing His love on me when I feel like I least deserve it.  Grace doesn’t push me away.  Grace opens arms to welcome me close, to clean and heal and forgive.  Grace is always there, because it depends entirely on Him and not me.

It almost seems too good to be true.  But before we start letting ourselves believe that, let's remember the story of the prodigal son.  Our Heavenly Father doesn't put us in time-outs or wait for us to get ourselves cleaned up.  No, He runs down the dusty road to meet us where we are, embracing us when we still reek of the pig pen.

* * *

I don’t think I’ve experienced a more stunningly clear illustration of God’s grace than I did that day.  Leave it to Him to redeem a mess and make something beautiful out of it.

My way of thinking was shaken to the very core, and I suddenly found myself staring at the road I’d missed for so long, knowing it should have looked more familiar.  Now I’m on a journey - discovering more and more of this amazing grace.

It is the journey of a lifetime.

Of Cheese, Cheese, and Cheese

If you know me very well, you know how much I love cheese.  Most of my favorite foods include cheese.  Our kitchen at home is almost never cheese-less.  I could happily eat it just about every day, I think, and not get tired of it.  (I happen to be related to someone who does NOT like cheese at all, which is almost inconceivable.  I guess maybe I got double the “love cheese” genes and he got none.  Yeah, that’s probably what happened.  But I digress…)

So when I got here and found out that my favorite kinds – the kinds I was familiar with – were nowhere to be found (with the exception of mozzarella)…

* * *

I knew missions would involve sacrifice.  In fact, following Christ involves sacrifice, period.  But I want to choose which sacrifices I’ll make.  You know, give up the things that don’t hurt as much.

I can live without a TV and a library right down the street.  I don’t mind not having 25 flavors of ice cream available at the grocery store, or a Starbucks on every corner (but if you mention pumpkin spice lattes, I’ll probably be tempted to tell you to shut up).  It doesn’t bother me to do without a microwave or a dishwasher.

But I miss cheese and poppies and all things Fall-related.  I don’t think it’s fair that I don’t get to watch my nephews and niece grow up.  I don’t want to be thousands of miles away from my family.  I want the water to stay on so I can have real showers and the power to stay on so I can use the fans.  I want a garden and a cockroach-less kitchen and a mild California climate.  And did I mention I’d like some cheese?

In light of eternity, none of these things will matter.  (In fact, I suspect that if I could really get my mind around eternity, I wouldn’t even call them “sacrifices”.)  But they do matter to this earth-bound heart of mine.

So let me remember who I am.  I am a child of God, redeemed at a staggering price, forever part of His family, because He gave up His own Son while I was still an enemy.  I am destined for heaven – this world is not my home.  I am infinitely loved by a God who knows me through and through.

And one of the ways He shows that love is by giving me what I need instead of lesser things.

Where You Are

One of the amazing things about grace is how it always meets you right where you are.

* * *

It had been a long, rough week.  I came down with the flu, I’d had little sleep and little appetite, and it was hot.  Then we had no running water.  All of this was fertile ground for discouragement, and that certainly summed up my state that week.

Discouraged.  And worse.

I couldn’t bring myself to pretend with God, because I knew it was pointless.  He saw my doubts and resentment and struggles – the whole lot of them – so why should I even try to plaster on a fake okay for Him?  He knew I foolishly wanted nothing more than to hide away in a corner and be left alone.

On Saturday I moved into my apartment and had a couple hours to myself before my friend arrived to stay with me for a few days.  I was hungry and weak and exhausted.

So there I was, sitting on my kitchen floor eating a banana (rather a pathetic note to start on, eh?).  Sometimes you have to get to the end of yourself before you’re ready to face the truth.

“Lord,” I cried, “You brought me here – why?”

“So I can show you who I am…and who you are.”

And I felt like He was reminding me that I could choose to walk with Him through it – the pain and confusion and loneliness – instead of running and hiding.

The next day at church, they read Romans 8:38-39, and I knew it was for me.  That week had been like a dark tunnel, but I emerged with this branded on my heart:

Nothing will be able to separate us from the love of God.

Nothing.  Not a single trial imaginable.  Not even we ourselves.

* * *

God’s grace meets us right where we are.  We may have lost our footing and can’t even seem to pray.  We may be wrestling with doubt or trying to run from our trials.  But no matter where we are, His grace boldly enters in and wraps everlasting arms around us.

Isn’t that beautiful?

 

The Shower That Wouldn't Turn Off

I woke up at 2:30 this morning to hear…could it be?  Yes!  The almost-forgotten sound of running water in my apartment.  For the first time since last Sunday evening, my water came on.  So I got up.  When you haven’t had running water and it comes on, you make the most of the opportunity, even if it’s in the middle of the night.

Who knew washing dishes and flushing toilets could be so exciting?  I filled up my barrel and buckets and then took a real, honest-to-goodness shower.  Ahhh…

The water pressure built up to the point where the shower in the guest bathroom was running.  I went in to try to turn it off, but the knob was apparently broken and wouldn’t turn off.  I didn’t want to leave it on and waste precious water, but I’d already filled up everything I could.  So I left it and went to bed.  As I lay there listening to the water, I sleepily thought that it was sort of like grace.  We don’t just decide we have enough and go, “Okay, God, You can stop now.”  You can’t turn off grace.  It pours out and splashes down no matter what.  Nothing can stop it.

Being without running water and having to conserve the water I do have has made me realize just how valuable it is.  And there it was, splashing out freely from the shower head.

We can’t live without grace, and there it is, poured out abundantly for us, splashed freely throughout our daily lives.  Refreshing, satisfying, life-giving grace.  More of it than we could think to ask for.  Completely unstoppable.

Thank You, Lord, that Your grace is like a shower that won’t turn off.