Can you hear Him?

I opened up my bible and prayed that He would speak to me. I read through Acts 22 this morning and reflected on Saul’s story and his transformation and how clearly the Spirit seemed to speak to him and direct him, and I asked the Lord if He still speaks to His servants that clearly even today… I knew Paul was especially appointed for his specific task… and though I knew the task that the Lord had for me wasn’t necessarily to initiate the spread of the gospel to the gentiles or write most of the New Testament, I was still desperate to be used by Him and be guided and moved by His Spirit. Not having necessarily heard anything “clear,” I set my bible down and decided to go on a walk. 

That decision in and of itself is sort of a miracle on its own as I really strongly dislike walking (but that conversation is for another time and place). I strapped on my weight vest (because if I was gonna walk, I was gonna WALK), put my headphones in, queued up a sermon on Psalm 62 that my friend had sent me (because maybe I’d hear Him speak to me through that), and walked out the door. 

When I do muster up the motivation to walk, I walk the same route each time. In the countless times I have walked this route before, I have never once had the initiative to bend down and pick up pieces of trash. Though I care greatly about the environment and obviously reject the notion of littering, I am just being honest and transparent, I’ve never done it before. 

Until today. 

Mid-walk I found myself crossing over my local bridge, and as I neared the top it grew increasingly more windy, and a potato chip bag randomly flew through the air and literally flattened itself onto my shins. I am not sure if that really counts as me “picking up trash,” as it rather “picked me,” but regardless, I made the decision to carry it the rest of the way until I found a nearby trashcan. But once I was holding that empty chip bag in my hand, I couldn’t help but notice all the other pieces of trash along the road as I was walking (and apparently had missed seeing before), and I decidedly started to pick up each piece as I went. 

PLEASE HEAR ME. 

The moral of this story is not that “I’m such a kind and caring person who routinely takes time out of her day to stop and pick up trash alongside the road.” Actually, its quite the opposite. As I was walking with the increasing amounts of trash in my hand, the thought came into my mind, “Why haven’t I ever done this before?” 

I reluctantly walk this route all the time, and I’ve never once noticed or felt the initiative to pick up a piece of trash (let alone the whole pile that was ever-growing in my hand). And as I asked myself the question, I realized I already knew the answer. I don’t feel the need to pick up the trash (or the idea never crosses my mind to even look for it) because I wasn’t the one who dropped it. 

Though I have made it a point thus far to not “toot my own horn,” I will admit that when I do drop a piece of trash somewhere accidentally outside, I DO pick that up, naturally. Why? Because it’s my responsibility. But my immediate reaction when I see trash outside is- “it isn’t mine,” “I didn’t drop it,” or “I can’t believe someone would do that.” I don’t pick it up or think to pick it up (at least as quickly as if it were mine) because I didn’t drop it… I didn’t do it. It’s not my debt to pay.

But Jesus doesn’t just ask us to “only pick up the trash we dropped.” 

We aren’t called to just love “only the people who love us back.”

We aren’t called to just serve “only the people who deserve it.”

We aren’t called to be ministers of reconciliation for “only the things that concern us.”

We aren’t called to just pray for “only the people who pray for us.” 

We aren’t called to spread the good news about who He is and what He’s done “to only those who we think should hear it.”

What if Jesus came down to this earth and only “picked up the things He dropped?” That’s right, he wouldn’t have “picked up anything” because as the perfect, sinless, Son of God He “dropped nothing.”

He did the opposite. 

He didn’t see a piece of trash on the side of the road and think, “Well, that isn’t my responsibility.  I didn’t drop that.” Instead, He willingly entered into our “trash-filled” (sin-filled) world and “trash-filled” (sin-filled) hearts that were our fallen responsibility, and made it His own. 

Why? 

Because He loved us.  

And what does He call us to do? 

He calls us to love others. But not just to “love others,” but to love others “just as He loved us” (John 13:34). 

“Just as.”

By adopting the responsibility. By inheriting the debt. By “picking it up” when it isn't "ours to pick up."

It costs us something to love others in this way. 

And yet, we are surprised when it does, and fall into un-Christlike patterns of thinking that result in “piles of trash” accumulating along the side of the road. 

What if my motivation to love others/do good (“pick up the trash”),

wasn’t rooted in whether or not it was my responsibility/was owed to me 

(“if I was the one who dropped it or not”)?

I think it would look a lot more like how Jesus loved me. 

Sometimes God chooses to speak to me through His Word. 

But this morning, He chose instead to speak to me through a piece of trash. 

How is He speaking to you today? 

Can you hear Him?

Ever "quieting the noise" to be able to hear "His low whisper" (1 Kings 19)... even "amidst the trash,"

em

India

Preface: many of these stories include sensitive information that could jeopardize certain women and children’s safety. Therefore, all names have been changed and certain locations have been purposefully omitted. Also, almost all of the pictures I took while I was over there are unable to be posted on the Internet but I would be happy to share them with you personally.

___________________

India, home of roughly 1.3 billion people. Though a beautiful country, India is known to have the highest rates of sex trafficking, child prostitution, and infant gendercide in the world. It is also considered one of the most dangerous places for a woman to live. To top it all off, its 1.3 billion residents are located in what is called the 10/40 window- the area of the world between 10 and 40 degrees latitude- that is in the most need of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Only 2% of India’s population claims Christianity with the majority of the population claiming Hinduism. Throw all of these facts together and you get a huge magnet that was unrelentingly drawing my heart towards India... and so I went. I went with the hope that I could serve people in need medically with the gifts and experiences the Lord has given me as a nurse as well as His daughter.

The only way I know how to properly convey my time in India is to give you snapshots of moments. Little flashbacks into memories I have already stored near to my heart...

...Brothels can come in many shapes and sizes. This one just looked like a shack. The walls were made of a mix of concrete and sheets of tin. Whatever the roof was made of it was covered by big pieces of tarp that was taped together. The inside was dark and gloomy with thin mattresses that lined the dirt floors and ragged blankets that hung in the doorways. Plastic bowls in the rooms held nail polish and lipstick. The women weren’t chained to the beds but the longer I was there, the more I realized that they might as well have been. Some of the women said their husbands knew they worked there... some said their husbands sold them or tricked them into working there... some said they simply didn’t have the means to earn money any other way to feed their 5 starving children at home... one girl motioned over to another girl and said “she told me there was a job,” but the way she said it made it seem to me that this poor young girl had no idea this is in fact what the job entailed. The truth is that these women may not have had physical chains on their wrists but the weight of the realities of poverty for these girls had them chained with no hope and unable to afford the thought that maybe one day they wouldn’t have to be there.... myself and a few others had arrived early in the morning as this was the women’s least “busy” time of the day with not quite as busy of a “flow” of customers. We came with the intentions of running a medical clinic and we had a small window of time before the brothel became busier and was unsafe for us to be there. The pimps were okay with us coming because they wanted their women healthy to work. As I was filling out makeshift intake forms I began to realize that all the younger-looking girls were saying they were “25 years-old” and the older women were saying they were “30 years-old” as if it was a rehearsed answer they had given time and time again. As I placed the blood pressure cuff on few girls I saw self-inflicted injuries that went up their wrists and arms that stood in stark contrast to the smiles, laughs, and jokes the women were engaged in. The whole time I was there the stark reality of their situation didn’t seem to set in. I was in a BROTHEL. Women were being sold for SEX. Why all the jokes, laughs, and seemingly shallow happiness? And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. This is their everyday. This is their normal. They know nothing different- and if they do remember their former life, they have pushed it far out of their mind as the only way survive their everyday. As the time went on, I found it harder and harder to focus on my task. I didn’t want to take their blood pressure. I wanted to sit these girls down, look them in the eye, and tell them that Jesus loves them and that there was a way out- but it wasn’t that easy. I couldn’t speak Hindi (thank goodness we had a few local friends as our translators) and the only reason we were able to be there at all was because a local woman had spent weeks forming those relationships and establishing trust with the pimps. One improper, hasty conversation could jeopardize the whole operation. One girl was sitting beside me chatting in Hindi with me as my friend translated.... then her expression changed as a man approached her. She took his hand and led him through the dark door that led to the rest of the brothel. They disappeared for 10 minutes or so and then they reemerged from the doorway. The man left. She sat down next to me and proceeded to continue with her conversation. GOD are you here at ALL? I felt absolutely sick to my stomach.

Later I asked our friend who comes weekly to spend time with those women how much the women get paid per customer. She told me 200 rupees. 100 rupees goes to the pimp and then they get to keep the other 100 rupees. I quickly did the math in my head... 100 rupees is approximately $1.50. She sells herself time and time again for $1.50 each time. She’s told she is worth $1.50, and she believes it.

...We went back to the brothel the next day to see how the women were doing with some of the medications we had given them. Also, we came to bring them flowers. As we came walking up, the women ran to meet us. They didn’t expect we would come back. I realized they hadn’t had anyone ever care for them enough to come back and not expect anything from them. As I walked up to some of the women with the bouquets I explained that these were for them.  Some didn’t know how to respond.... some broke off some of the flowers and placed them in their hair, but this one young girl took her bouquet, walked to one of the back corners of the brothel and hid it- no doubt so that it would remain safe until she was done working for the day. My heart broke... I wanted to bring her a flower everyday. All of a sudden I heard a lot of yelling and I turned around to see a big crowd of men. We were there a lot later than when we were there yesterday and it was already becoming more busy. I asked our translator what all the yelling was about and she said that the group of men though that us “white girls” were for hire and the women that worked at the brothel were yelling because they were defending us and telling the men we weren’t “available”. My heart swelled. Before we left one of the girls pulled our translator aside and said, “when you guys come I have such joy and peace... but when you leave, it’s gone. Please come back.”

...We followed the pastor down a long dirt path. He was explaining that we were on our way to a leprosy colony and that no one really came to see these people because people in the community were scared of contracting leprosy themselves. He also explained that when there were political campaigns going on they would come and drop free medications off to the community, but because there weren’t any campaigns going on currently, there was no medicine. We were told there were only a few men still living with leprosy and that most of the community were just kids of some of the people who had been affected. When we arrived in the slum I saw a few older men rummaging around desperately to try and find chairs for us all to sit on. It then hit me that these same men who were struggling as they adjusted some of the plastic chairs in their efforts to make us feel welcome were the very men who had leprosy. Their hands and feet were disfigured and were being eaten away by the disease. My heart exploded. Fighting back tears I asked if I could pray over them. The pastor explained that they were Hindu but that they always welcome prayer. I placed my hands on the men, I wanted to touch them to let them know that I see them and I love them, and I began to pray....

...It was late at night and we were on the train. Trains in India are actually crazy... something like 9 people die on trains in India each day. They are so crowded you can almost not breathe. I looked over at my friend I had met here in India who had lived here her whole life and was on staff with the organization I was volunteering with. I laughed at the situation we were in. There were people everywhere. We were in the women’s car so luckily it was just women that were pressed up against us, but the men’s car was right next to us. I said out loud  “with this many people I think we should all sing a song!” (typical statement by me). An Indian woman who was right next to me said, “go for it! People will join you.” I looked at my friend, Annie, and asked what we should sing and she said what about “God of this City?” I then glanced around the train car nervously and said “can we get in trouble?” We started singing anyway... "You’re the God of this city. You’re the king of these people. You’re the Lord of this nation. You are. You’re the light in this darkness. You’re the hope to the hopeless. You’re the peace to the restless. You are. There is no one like our God. There is no one like you God. Greater things have yet to come and greater things are still to be done in this city.” Later a guy in our group told us he heard us singing from the men’s car. We got some glares for sure but we also got some smiles. That train car was a light in a very dark place that night.

...“The red light district was right up the road on the right,” they told me. I made a right turn onto a dirt path and the sight that I saw stopped me dead in my tracks. I just saw a row that seemed to go on forever of plastic chairs that were positioned outside of slum huts... some of the chairs were currently empty, signifying that the woman was currently “taken,” the rest of the chairs were filled by women waiting for men to make their way down the dirt path. As a man made his way down I watched as the women fought over who could have him- the need for money was clear. I waved hello and smiled and yet I really just wanted to cry. This was a red light district in the middle of a slum. Many of the women we saw at the medical clinic we ran that day were older in age. I asked our translator and friend where the younger girls were... she grimly told me that in this district the pimps rarely let the younger ones out of their sight (most probably because they were trafficked there against their will and can’t risk them mentioning that to us. Also, the younger girls are higher in demand and tend to make more money, and so they couldn't be spared even for a moment). Knowing my love for children, our team leader suggested that I spend the morning at the slum’s makeshift school for the red-light-district’s children before coming back to help with the clinic. I walked up the dirt path and children, whom I had never met before, began running up to me yelling “Teacher! Teacher!” and they beat me into the “school” (a one-room cement shack squeezed in between other slum dwellings). So here I was- standing before 20 children ranging in age from 4-12 who only spoke Hindi... the floor was flooded (its monsoon season in India), it was dark (we had no electricity) and we couldn’t open the door too wide for light because it would leave us all soaked from the rain and they gazed up eagerly at their “teacher” ready to learn. I have never felt so inadequate. God these children are so desperate to learn, help me to teach them despite all the odds stacked against me. Some of these children were able to go to actual school after their few hours there in the morning with me, and some couldn’t afford it. These children were growing up in a red-light district; almost all of their mothers were most probably sitting in many of the plastic chairs that I passed on my way up here. I wanted to cry as I looked at the little girls in the school hoping and praying that that wouldn’t be their only future.... but who would fight for them?

...The organization I was with rescues many of these types of children from red-light areas and from backgrounds of abuse. They provide housing in a boy’s or girl’s home respectively and they also provide the opportunity for them to go to school. There were roughly 90 kids in total and approximately 10 had HIV passed down from their mothers. One of our goals for the week I was there was to treat their hair for lice. All of the children had lice and it was itching their heads and making them uncomfortable. So we massaged a liquid in their scalp that would sit for a few hours to kill the lice and the eggs and then we would comb out the dead lice. I went with a friend to the “younger boys home” one evening to comb through and wash the dead lice out of their hair. There were about 25 boys in the younger home so as my friend and I were walking to their house I told her that I figured we could comb through their hair and then send them into the shower to wash it out like a mini assembly line. But when I got there and began combing through their hair I realized there was no shampoo there for them to wash. I ran back and retrieved packets of shampoo and when I came back their eyes lit up and they began jumping up and down with excitement- over shampoo. After combing what seemed like millions of dead lice out of the first boy’s head I motioned for him to go wash his hair and he just sort of stared back at me... thinking it was more a language barrier thing I took his hand and walked him back to the faucet and I pointed and tried to explain and then it hit me, he had never had someone wash his hair. Change of plans. I then positioned myself in the shower for the remainder of the evening. As my friend finished combing through their hair she sent them to me for me to wash their hair. This is the night that rocked my heart the hardest. As I washed each of their hair, heard them laugh as they tried to decide whether to hold their breath or not, watched them ask me to “do it again” when I turned the water off, and then smile confidently at their freshly clean, lice- free hair my heart actually exploded. I wanted to stay there forever.  After I was done washing their hair I grimaced a little as they dried their hair off with a probably lice-infected towel and laid down all together on the floor on most probably lice-infected blankets. Lord, are you here? Even when I leave?  When I walked out of the boys home that night that was the first time I let the tears slip. They had never had anyone care enough to wash their hair.

...I flew to another part of India for my last weekend in the country. I spent the weekend in a rescue home for girls who had been rescued from sex trafficking and backgrounds of sexual abuse. I was talking with one of the girls who expressed to me her desire to get baptized but then she became sad and said, “but many things need to be fixed first... I become very discouraged and sad about my past.” I was then able to look her in the eyes and tell her that because of Jesus’ sacrifice God already sees her as clean, loves her, and has fixed all things. I then asked one of the other girls how she had come to know Jesus. This girl in particular, once rescued, was placed in a governmental-licensed aftercare home. Because it was licensed by the government, Jesus and Christianity couldn’t be openly talked about, but ALL of the aftercare workers just “happened” to be Christians. One night this girl told me that she was up late crying because she was so scared about facing her trafficker in court later that week. As she fell asleep she told me that a demon tormented her at night (which apparently wasn’t new) but what WAS new in her dream that night was a man that continued to battle against what the demon was telling her. She told me she didn’t know who the man was but that He told her “Daughter, do not fear, I am with you now and I will be with you in court” and He silenced the lies the demon was speaking to her. The next morning the girl explained her dream to one of the aftercare workers who then told her that the man in her dream was Jesus. Not knowing who this “Jesus” was, the girl didn’t think anything of it, but he kept coming back night after night speaking to her in her dreams, calling her to Himself... “And so that’s how I came to know Jesus” she told me casually.

______________

Though these snapshots just barely graze the surface, I hope they were able to capture some of the real moments I experienced in India. Many of these moments were plagued with questions that I asked God over and over: 

Lord are you REALLY here? Jesus do you SEE this? God WHERE are you?

Because to be honest, though there were many good moments, the majority of the 12 days I spent in India was filled with darkness and brokenness. And it seemed to follow me home. The day I left India I developed a fever and 30 hours later I was in the ER in the States with high fevers, chills, body aches, swelling, a mysterious rash all over my body, and extreme discomfort. A week later they diagnosed me with Dengue fever that I had contracted from a mosquito my last weekend in India. The doctor then explained to me that if I went back to India, or any country that has high rates of Dengue fever, and contracted Dengue again, that my body would develop Dengue Hemorrhagic fever in response (since my body has now already been exposed). My body’s response would send me into almost an immediate state of shock and if I wasn’t around proper medical care almost immediately, I would die. The questions were the same, just now in a different environment: 

Lord are you REALLY here? Jesus do you SEE me? God WHERE are you?

The thing is I KNOW the answers to those questions. I know that Jesus sees that little slum child eager to go to school who honestly realistically probably never will. I know that He was in those brothels with me. I know that He’s there when the boys in the boys’ home lay down to sleep at night with their lice-filled hair. I know He’s the God of that city..... but I don’t feel like it. I don’t feel like it when I feel darkness in every corner; when there is a Hindu temple on every street and over 1 billion people are bowing down in front of demonic-looking idols. I don’t feel like Jesus has “won” when I watch the teenage girl take a man in the back only to get raped for $1.50. It’s hard to believe that the lepers in the colony aren’t forgotten by God when they are literally forgotten about and abandoned by their own people. It’s hard to see all of the chaos, brokenness, and heartache in front of my face and still trust that God is in complete control... because honestly, I don’t FEEL it.

I KNOW that God timed my dengue fever perfectly to get me to the States in time to receive proper medical care. I KNOW that a million people (it truly felt like that many) were on their hands and knees praying for me day in and day out. I KNOW that Jesus healed me.... eventually :) BUT I still, in the quiet moments, struggle with doubt. Jesus, did you forget about me? I just wanted to serve You, to tell others about You, and now I’m faced with a totally unfair ultimatum- travel to those places again, hold those sweet children in my arms again, and you could die. How the heck is THAT fair?

This may be the moment that you are expecting me to tell you that I broke down and the Lord spoke some beautiful new word to me that made everything magically okay. But there was never that moment. Instead, as I was tearfully explaining to Him that it wasn’t FAIR, the Lord simply asked me: “Was it FAIR for my Son to die on the cross?”

And in my tears I told Him it wasn’t. He grabbed my hand and brought me back to that moment:

When Jesus was hanging on the cross DYING it looked like the Lord was the OPPOSITE of in control... it seemed like, and Jesus even felt like, He was forgotten. And that bloody cross sure as heck, in my opinion, wasn’t a picture of a victory.... and yet as I look at the cross, it doesn’t make ANY of the situations I’ve experienced make ANY sense, BUT it assures me, through the midst of it all, that there is an unconditional God that loves me- that loves those Indian people.

I then take a look at the empty tomb and I realize that the cross is proof that He doesn’t always change the circumstances, but its proof that He always has purpose....

Suddenly John 9:3 flies to the front of my mind- I resonate with how Jesus’ disciples are struggling with the fact that a man was BORN blind. Lord where WERE YOU? HOW did you MISS THAT?

In their struggle to balance Jesus’ sovereignty and the world’s brokenness they ask Jesus what this man did to deserve His seemingly undeserved circumstance. Jesus says, “neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.”

I don’t know why the Lord made Him blind versus something else. I don’t know why millions of girls are battling for their life in brothels seemingly invisible to the world and God. I don’t know why the Lord led me to India and now I have dengue fever. I don’t have all the answers.

But I’m now realizing that in India, and in the hospital, I kept asking God “where He was” because it was easier for me to look at the broken situation and pretend like God wasn’t there (and to ask Him to get his butt there) than to look at the broken situation and believe that He already was there.

But that isn’t faith.

Faith is “being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see” (Hebrews 11:1).

Dengue fever or not, may the work of God be displayed in my life,

em

Consider Him.

It’s been a silent past few months. Coming off of “the best 4 years of my life” and “summer’s best 12 weeks,” has made it seem like God has been silent throughout this stage of my life, but he hasn’t- I’ve just been listening to the wrong things.

Being away from my college roommates, away from my college ministry, away from a community of Christian girls my age, away from those that know me best (apart from my family), away from everything that’s comfortable, away from mentors and those who pushed and challenged me has been... well... REAL. And I didn’t like it one bit. I thought, “I must’ve heard God wrong” when I chose to accept my job here in MD and move away from Delaware... there’s no way that he would want me this lonely and separated from everyone else.... but maybe that’s exactly what He wanted... to literally strip everything from me piece by piece to show me what I was really standing on.

A few weeks ago I had by far the worst night at work I’ve had in the 3 months I’ve been working as a nurse in a Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. I just barely made it out the hospital doors before I burst into tears... I naturally started praying and I felt like the Lord was saying, “Em, I don’t just want to be your shoulder to cry on.” And that broke my heart...because I couldn’t believe that I had gotten to that point, but when I HONESTLY looked at my heart, that’s what He has been to me these past few months....which isn’t a bad thing, but it is when those are the only moments that have driven me into the Lord’s presence.

From someone who was preaching HARD “whatever the circumstances” this past September... what I have learned since then, and it may be one of the only things, is that it’s hard. It’s FREAKING HARD.

I’m happier when nothing goes wrong at work and when there people home when I get home. And I’m sadder when there’s not. That’s just a fact. BUT my joy should be the same. My worth should be the same. My identity should remain the same- all because it’s grounded on the One who is the same “yesterday, today, and tomorrow” (Hebrews 13:8).

So where in September my prayer was for the Lord to teach me how to be content “whatever the circumstances,” my most recent prayer has been, “how the heck Lord do I keep going, with a genuine heart that reflects a ‘whatever the circumstances’ attitude when the circumstances don’t change over hours, weeks, or months? How the HECK do I press on? How do I persevere?”

For a little reminder (aka smack in the face), the Lord led me to Hebrews 11 and the beginning of Hebrews 12. There seemed to be a few key words that were literally jumping off the page:

“By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God’s command...

By faith Abel offered God a better sacrifice than Cain did...

By faith Enoch was taken from this life...

By faith Noah, when warned about things not yet seen, in holy fear built an ark to save his family...

By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going...

By faith Abraham, even though he was past age-and Sarah herself was barren- was enabled to become a father because he considered him faithful who had made the promise...

By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice...

By faith Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau in regard to their future...

By faith Jacob, when he was dying, blessed each of Joseph’s sons and worshipped...

By faith Joseph, when his end was near, spoke about the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt...

By faith Moses’ parents hid him for three months after he was born, because they saw he was no ordinary child, and they were not afraid of the King’s edict...

By faith Moses, refused to be known as the son of Pharaoh’s daughter. He chose to be mistreated along with the people of God for a short time. He regarded disgrace for the sake of Christ as of greater value than the treasures of Egypt, because he was looking ahead to his reward...

By faith Moses left Egypt, not fearing the king’s anger; he persevered because he saw him who was invisible....

By faith the people passed through the Red Sea as on dry land...

By faith the walls of Jericho fell...

By faith the prostitute Rehab, because she welcomed the spies, was not killed...

I do not even have time to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel, and the prophets...THEREFORE, since we have been surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us THROW OFF everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith, who for the JOY set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider Him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.”

How do you press on when circumstances don’t change after months? When you feel confused and unsure of what is going on and where life is going? When you miss your friends and fellowship like crazy and just straight up feel alone? When you keep praying and praying and don’t feel a clear direction or leading? YOU “CONSIDER HIM.” And I’ve found that once I stop for a hot second in the midst of my self-pity party and “consider Him,” circumstances may not change, heck they may not EVER change, BUT I have a renewed perseverance to run the race because JESUS did. And it may not be the race I necessarily would’ve chosen- but the one that was chosen and marked out for me by a God who knows me and a God that promises “in all things to work for the good of those who love Him” (Romans 8:28).

Just like the cross wasn’t necessarily the exact path Jesus would’ve chosen, but He chose to pick up his cross anyway because He knew, trusted, and loved His father. That’s a God that’s more than a shoulder to cry on- that’s a God who deserves to be trusted with my everything, WHATEVER THE CIRCUMSTANCES.

Tim Keller once said, “God will answer all of our prayers exactly like we would answer our prayers if we knew all he knew."

And what if the Lord does change your circumstances to, in your opinion, more “favorable ones” and answers your prayers “like you would”?

When “good days” at work came my way, or when I was able to reconnect with friends in Delaware, or if we were having a “family dinner” with our mids from the Academy- it revealed the other half of my sinful heart. Half of my heart was losing faith after long hard weeks that turned to months, but the other half was not making time for Him when things were “okay” and more “favorable,” and He slowly started to become, unknowingly in those moments, ‘just a shoulder to cry on.’

Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.  

So the most recent cry of my heart has been:

“Keep falsehood and lies from me, give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me ONLY my daily bread. Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, ‘Who is the Lord?’” – Proverbs 30:8-9

Here’s my heart Lord, take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.... DAILY... EVERY SECOND. What a beautiful MESS we are.

I realize this post is basically just me re-stating all of Hebrews 11... but God always has better things to say than I do anyways.

Finding joy in every moment as I “consider Him,”

em

AMSTEL 206, missing you always, and wishing California, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Delaware were all just a tad bit closer.... "considering HIM." <3 

Love Him Back.

During my freshman year of college, I was at a conference and I was listening to Francis Chan speak and he got up on the stage and held up the bible and said something along the lines of, “I wish I could just stand up here and say to you all ‘read it and do it’ and then walk off the stage because if we REALLY did that our lives would be dramatically different.” The truth is, these past few weeks, I haven’t really been reading it and doing it.

Sometimes as disciples we can become distracted (by even great things, but nonetheless distracted) and lose sight of the MAIN point and purpose of our lives if we don’t stay grounded in the word.

“Of all the commandments, which is the most important?”

“The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” – Mark 12:28-31

A lot of us jump straight to the ‘second’ one. We love to love others.... yes, sometimes it’s hard to love those who are “hard to love,” but culturally, it’s more accepted. No one is going to question us when we choose to love others. But why is it so much easier to love others than it is to love the One who gave it all?

Don’t misunderstand me- loving others is 100% a way to love Him back... but is that all He means when He says to love Him with ALL our hearts and with ALL our soul and with ALL our mind and with ALL our strength? I don’t think so.

Loving Him back with ALL our heart:

I sort of want to skip this one and come back... but I’m not going to because then I’d be fleeing what’s hard for me to face. I give away pieces of my heart to idols KNOWING they will never bring me as much satisfaction as the Lord, but I do it anyway because I’m sinful and desire “quick fixes” over “lasting satisfaction.” But even worse than that, I do it because I don’t trust that He knows what’s best for me. I think I know what’s going to bring me the most joy and satisfaction. How could I look at Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross and not trust that He knows what’s best for me? It’s not wrong to desire good things and blessings on this earth, but the key is, do we want them more than the One who gives them to us?

Loving Him back with ALL our soul:

David uses the word “soul” countless times in the book of Psalms and he describes it as “all my inmost being” (Psalm 103). Do I love Him with ALL my inmost being? Am I honoring Him with the motives that lie BENEATH my ‘loving’ actions?

Loving Him back with ALL our mind:

Why do you think Paul has to remind us in Colossians 3 to “set your minds on things above, not on earthly things?”- Because we are SINFUL and will naturally choose to focus on earthly things instead of the eternal perspective that we were intended to focus on. The truth is that this LIFE IS A VAPOR and yet we choose to dwell for hours that turn into days that turn into weeks that turn into months that turn into years about insignificant things when instead we could be investing those thoughts on God and His kingdom- things above- things that are lasting.

The thing is... and I’m going to be brutally honest... you aren’t going to think more about “things above” unless you PROACTIVELY make it a priority. You won’t. We’re humans and we’re sinful and we chose an apple instead of the Lord.

Have I made loving Him back with my thoughts a priority like the priority that He is?

Loving Him back with ALL our strength:

I’m the guiltiest of them all when it comes to this. I somehow justify in my mind this statement, “I’m too tired to spend time with the ‘One who promises rest’ (Matt. 11:28).

When we choose to not love Him with our WHOLE heart, soul, mind, and strength, what we are indirectly saying to the Lord is, “You’re not worth it.” If we were 100% consumed by the truth that Jesus DIED for us, we would “conduct ourselves in a manner WORTHY of the gospel of Christ” (Philippians 1:27).

If you’re like me you may be thinking, “Well I’m human, and I will never be perfect, so I can’t possibly [on this earth] love Him with every single part of my heart, soul, mind, and strength without failing.”  

But does that change the fact that, in light of His sacrifice, He still deserves every single part of our heart, soul, mind and strength? NO.

Wise words from my pal Oswald Chambers remind me “it is the process, not the outcome, that is glorifying to God.”

It’s not like He is just waiting around until the day when FINALLY every single part of my heart is devoted to Him and then He is finally glorified- He is glorified every single moment as I choose to say “no” to my sinful flesh and “yes” to His desire and will for my life. We make it so complicated when it is really so simple. The decision or choice may be painful, and the discipline it takes to follow through with the choice may be hard, but God’s call to love Him back is simple and exactly what we were designed to do.

Not only can you take one quick look at the world we live in, but also you can take one quick look at each and every one of our hearts and you can easily see that we have a problem. We are constantly searching for people and things to satisfy us... to fill us... we even do this with the Lord. We spend some time with Him... feel great... and then ‘peace out’ for a few days or weeks until we need Him again and then we are on our knees “praying for Him to satisfy us” as if the problem lies in “a lack of the Lord satisfying us” instead of our own failure “to see that the Lord IS satisfaction.”

The dissatisfaction we feel IS NOT the Lord’s failure to ‘provide more of Himself to satisfy us’- His whole self has already been given to us through His sacrifice.

The emptiness we feel is the emptiness that comes when we choose to invest our hearts in idols that pretend to fill us and consequently fail us.

So let’s stop praying for God “to satisfy us” when He already did that and MORE on the cross, and instead let’s pray that the Lord would remind us of who He is, Jehovah Jireh, our Provider, and all He’s done, His ultimate sacrifice and provision, by allowing our idols to fail us and in turn, molding our hearts to look more like His Son’s.... a heart that truly desired NOTHING ELSE on this earth besides His Father and His Father’s desires.... a heart that loved Him back with all his heart, soul, mind, and strength.

“This is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.” – 1 John 4:10

Let’s love Him back because He’s way more than worth it,  

em

"What can I say? What can I do? But offer this heart oh Lord COMPLETELY to You."

Whatever the circumstances.

{Let me preface THIS ENTIRE POST by saying that I recognize that though I am going through a time of transition in a lot of areas of my life, it’s all about PERSPECTIVE: I know Jesus personally, I have an intact family, I don’t need to worry about where my next meal is coming from, I have a healthy body and access to healthcare, and a roof over my head that keeps me safe, warm, and dry- MY BLESSINGS ARE NUMEROUS and I know that my life compared to most people’s around the world, has faced very little hardship if any. I just am seeking and yearning for a heart thats reaction to unexpected/undesirable circumstances, whether big or small, would be one that would continue to grow to bring Christ every ounce of glory on this earth that it could.}   

The past few weeks have been a literal whirlwind. OKAY, OKAY maybe not a “literal” whirlwind (I know I say “literally” way too much)... but they have been busy. To sum it all up quickly:       

• An ELEVEN year season at Summer’s Best Two Weeks, a camp I have grown up at, came to a close 
• My best friend got MARRIED.... MARRIED!  
• I was offered a full-time nursing job in Baltimore in a pediatric Intensive Care Unit (EXACTLY the floor I wanted to work on) three days after returning home from working at camp all summer
• It hit me (a few months late) that I really have graduated college, am currently living at home away from all my college friends, and things aren’t ever going to be “how they were” again
• I FAILED my nursing boards and thought I lost my previously offered job
• BY THE GRACE OF GOD my job decided to “hold my position” until I retake the exam = a LITERAL (proper use of the word there) MIRACLE.

As I look up at that list, though there were “hard points” throughout these past few weeks and moments that didn’t seem to make sense at all, I can smile.... and not just in hindsight “when it finally all makes sense”... but also through the midst of all the uncertainty. Because you see, I’ve “learned the secret.”

Paul, writing to the church in Philippi FROM JAIL, says, “For I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.” [Philippians 4: 11-12]

In some stages of my life, I have desired “the secret” during those difficult circumstances... when I was “in need, hungry, and living in want.” In other stages of my life, I have desired “the secret” during those times where things ‘were going good’... I was “well fed and living in plenty” and yet still didn’t feel truly content.

But the truth is that “the secret” has nothing to do with the circumstances and everything to do with whether or not you trust the LORD of those circumstances.

There was a moment for me last week where I sat on the floor with my journal after I found out that I failed my nursing boards examination and was facing the possibility of losing my job and wrote this one and only line:

9/8/13 

Because I KNOW you, I love and trust You, whatever the circumstances, Lord.

Did I say that because I was really happy in that moment? ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Did I say that because everything made perfect sense to me? No, no and NO.

Did I say that because I knew everything was going to turn out great? Definitely not.  

Did I say that because I’m some super “wise” Christian? HECK NO.

I said that not because of anything I am but BECAUSE of the I AM.

BECAUSE “to live is Christ, and to die is gain” [Philippians 1:21]. 

BECAUSE by turning my eyes to the cross and Christ’s sacrifice I am continually reminded that though it won’t make the situation make sense, it assures me through the midst of it all that there is an unconditional God that loves me. PERIOD.

THAT’S WHY “I can do everything through Him who gives me strength” [Philippians 4:13]... that is such a powerful verse that is not just meant to be worn, tattooed, or written for the sake of sports games.... it’s not a “quotable line” for you to feel better in the moment, it’s the product, the natural overflow of a heart that, DESPITE THE CIRCUMSTANCES, completely trusts the One who made it, and who realizes that the “secret” is HIM.

So what does that mean for me right now where I am? It means:

• Whether I go back to camp ever again or not, I’m content NOT BECAUSE I miss it any less, but because He’s never once failed me in leading me and I trust Him.
• If I remain single for the rest of my life, or get married- I’m content NOT BECAUSE my desires to be known intimately on this earth and experience Christ deeper through the blessing of marriage diminishes, but because I am not waiting on anyone to “complete” my heart- it is already being held completely by a God whose love never fails.    
• If I live in a different state than my college friends, or in the same house- I’m content NOT BECAUSE it becomes any easier being apart from them, but because their friendships are constant reminders that He is a God who provided, provides, and will continue to provide.
• If I fail my nursing boards AGAIN and really lose my job or pass my exam and begin my job- I’m content NOT BECAUSE I take failure lightly and can just shake off the disappointment, but because I believe with my whole heart that “in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose” [Romans 8:28].
• If I am able to move overseas, or if He places a new call on my heart to stay in the USA- I’m content NOT BECAUSE my love and yearning for the “least of these” overseas disappears, but because my love for them is rooted in my love for Christ, and I can rest knowing that the reason my heart breaks for injustice around the world is because HIS does. It’s not “my life,” it’s His...  “Does the clay say to Him who forms it, ‘what are you making?’” [Isaiah 45:9]  

Is this type of contentment a one-time decision? NO, it’s a process... in the book of Philippians Paul says he learned to be content. Tomorrow, next week, or in this very second I could fall prey to satan’s lies, the distractions of the wind and the waves that try to take my eyes off of my Lord (the “secret”) and overwhelm me as I begin to sink.

Battling the wind and the waves means continually fixing our eyes, hearts, and minds on Christ, and it is then that our fear of the wind and waves disappears because we know we’re holding the hand of the One who controls them.

Learning to hold it all in “open hands” while whispering “whatever the circumstances”- because “it’s not about me,”

em

Whether single or married... whatever the circumstances. 

Whether living on Amstel in Delaware or in Annapolis... whatever the circumstances. 

Whether serving overseas or serving in the USA...whatever the circumstances. 

Leave the 99.

So here I am, on my last day off for the summer as I work at Summer’s Best Two Weeks. I am currently sitting in a hotel lobby writing some letters, and my gaze turned to the TV screen... I have been sitting in the same spot for a few hours or so, and a story of a missing teenager has repeatedly cycled through the news programming... my heart was broken for MANY reasons:

The first is that this young girl is missing... my heart goes out to her and her family and all those who know her. I pray that she is found quickly!

But my more consuming thought is this: “What about the rest of them?”

I’m referencing the THOUSANDS upon THOUSANDS of missing young children... some as young as 4 or 5 that have been kidnapped from their homes and forced to kill their families and serve as either child soldiers or sex slaves in the LRA, a rebel army that once terrorized Uganda for over 20 years, and now terrorizes the Democratic Republic of the Congo, South Sudan, and the Central African Republic.

I pictured how different our news would look if that were happening in our own country.... or even better, if instead we as a human race embraced the fact that WHERE you live shouldn’t determine WHETHER you LIVE. ...Would there be a story on each and every one of the tens of thousands of children who go missing after their families are killed? Would there be an unrelenting search party for each and every one of them?

Why should this response for a missing teenager in the U.S. look any different for a teenager who goes missing in a rural village in northern Uganda?

It shouldn’t look any different, but the reality is that it DOES.

The teenager across the world stays “missing.”... Not because the search party came back fruitless, but because she has no one to be her voice, no one to fight for her.

I’m not trying to argue that it’s the United States’ responsibility to care, pursue, and love every young child, woman, or man oppressed by injustice that they come in contact with or hear about... BUT I AM arguing that it is our responsibility as Christians.

To be a Christian means to be a FOLLOWER and DISCIPLE of Jesus. What do you think He meant when He said to his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take us his cross and FOLLOW ME” [Matthew 16:24]?

Thank the LORD that the boundaries between countries don’t deter His love and grace from stretching across the ends of the earth to SEEK AFTER (Isaiah 62:12) and pursue every one of us lost sheep as he took up his cross and died for us.... because His love for us isn’t about us or where we live.  

Jesus compares the pursuit of us unworthy sinners to the relationship between a shepherd and his flock of sheep, “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it?” [Luke 15:4]

When we have been pursued in this way, the only logical and natural response is that we would GET UP AND MOVE... that we would leave the 99 to go after the 1. 

It doesn’t matter if the 1 is “halfway across the world or right next door,” or if the 1 “deserves it or not,” or if the journey will be “too hard, pricy, or messy,” or whether or not “you will receive a reward for the time spent searching,” BECAUSE IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU.... it’s about pursuing others in the same selfless, unrelenting fashion that Christ pursued us.... even though our desire to mirror Christ’s pursuit will never compare to His sacrifice on the cross.

“What can we say? What can we do? BUT OFFER THIS HEART (and life) OH LORD completely to you.”

We’re motivated not out of obligation, but out of an overflowing love for our Savior who gave it ALL for NO REASON AT ALL.

Leave the 99.

Pursue the 1.

Pursue the 1- across the world, in your classroom, at work- anywhere and everywhere.

Thankful for conviction that motivates me to FOLLOW HIM more closely,

em