A Paradigm Shift... (written July 22 late PM)

Something big is happening in my mindset about men in Africa. And only God could be bringing about this change.

For the past two days – every man I have seen was not at all what my belief of men in Kenya has been up until now. Certainly I’ve known there were good men here – but my stern opinion has been that these “good men” were a huge minority. Now I’m not so certain.
There are definitely still tons of terrible men in this country and on this continent. But honestly – there really are a lot of rotten ones in America too. They just happen to look different – and their ugliness doesn’t “show” quite so blatantly as it does on this continent.
But I want to be careful not to be bashing men. I’m not a basher of men --- not at all. I’m just a realist -- all that glitters is not gold --- and things are never as they appear.

My point --- for all the years I’ve been serving in Africa – I’ve had a pretty rotten attitude towards the men. It’s reasonable though --- since my heart and hands have gone our to the children and the widows. Orphans that were left to fend for themselves – or children who ran away from home and chose a life on the streets because they couldn’t take the abuse anymore. Widows who were left to care for a gazillion grandchildren after their husbands died – because he was unfaithful to her – contracted HIV-AIDS – infected her – but died first. Sick widows left struggling with life – awaiting death themselves. Oh – it’s just too ugly. And even though I’ve kept my “game face on” and smiled in the face of these men --- on the inside, I’ve loathed many of them. I’ve dealt with many of them with a bit of an attitude – wanting to be sure they realize – I won’t be pushed around – and I’ll do all I can to make their lives miserable if they “cross the line” that has been drawn in the sand around me. I’ve been a real b_ _ _ _ to those who I felt needed to be cut down to size. Believe it or not --- but shamefully it is true.

But I’ve asked God to open my eyes to what He wants me to see – give me ears to hear what He is saying – and a heart to respond as He would have me to. ( I never thought He’d open my eyes in this way --- but…)

So when I say that my heart is shifting ---- it truly is a GOD THING.

I sat in a cell group (church small group) tonight – that meets on a dairy farm. We sat under a shelter with fresh hay under our feet and the aromas of farm life permeating the air --- and I LOVED IT! I closed my eyes during our worship time and imagined I was meeting in the home of one of the early churches. The smells had to have been much the same and the sounds too. Not the typical setting – but oh it touched my soul.
And God opened my eyes a bit further. There were 29 adults there and 11 children. They began just weeks ago – with only 4 members. And get this --- there were only 7 women there! So I sat in a “stable” setting and listened as 22 men praised God, talked about his word, and asked questions – since over half of them are new Christians. I’m certain these men are not among the “abusers” I’ve had such a chip on my shoulder towards ---- but these men are representative of many men living in the nightmarish world of Africa. Good men – who are willing to work – but struggle to find jobs. Good men who are innocently accused of being “one of those abusers”.

One old gentleman – held his tattered, OLD Bible and spoke b-e-a-utifully about Christ being the living water. He’s a simple farmer – that does have a gruff face --- but come on Donna – if you had lived his life, in his world, would you really walk around smiling all the time. Especially in a culture where smiling and looking people in the eye can many times portray disrespect and even arrogance.
I’m learning.

There are MANY lovely sons of God in this community, this city, this country, this continent, and this world.

Last night I met a young man (I’d guess maybe 18) --- who LOVES God so much and has such insight into God’s Word. He proclaimed, “I am a lover of the Lord”. My mouth fell open as I heard his words and saw the light of my Lord in his eyes. If I had seen him walking down the street a week ago – I would have been suspicious that he was just like all the others.
God has broken my heart for the ladies here ---- and then, just like God, He has turned around now and is opening my heart to the goodness of many of the men in this land. Men who are victimized by the reputations of the rotten ones. And God really does still love the “rotten ones” --- our good, good God.

There’s Perminus who LOVES his dear wife Felistus.
There’s David the young gate keeper and caretaker for the offices of GOA who is a new Christian – still has a hard expression – until you smile and greet him – then he lights up.
There’s Peter, wife to Esther and father of two, who has never taken a drink or smoked anything – and loves the Lord like crazy.
There’s Daniel a very young man who says, “I am a lover of the Lord” – and really means it.
There’s Samuel, the old man with the tattered, well-used Bible and speaks truth with such gentleness and joy.
I could list many, many names here of men God has opened my eyes to --- that love Him, love their families, and daily live under the oppression of this land (from the evil one) and yet still work to care for their families.

God calls us to love ---- love ---- love.
I could still quickly find the fire to beat the crap out of anyone abusing a child or mistreating their wife.
But God is reminding me to love. He WILL HAVE HIS DAY OF VENGEANCE. But in the meantime – he doesn’t need itty-bitty me doing anything other than shining His light in the darkness. He’ll deal with the darkness. It’s my obedience to carry the Light ---- He handed to me --- right after He died on the cross.

Thank you for your patience Lord.

A Peaceful Day...

Today has been an oasis – a much needed rest. Spent most of the day at the GOA offices and was able to access email/internet for most of that time. Joined the GOA staff for a meeting – and met with a gentleman who organizes all ground transportation for our upcoming Heart for Africa trip for a couple of hours ironing out all the final details. Then ended the day joining Joyce Thagana, my hostess, in her church small group.
Today was a day filled with tasks and light conversations. And I learned something.
I’m at home with the tasks – that’s my thing. Give me something tangible to accomplish and more often than not – I’ll find a way to make it happen. The past several days have not been “task” days. They’ve been ministry/service days. The difference has come clear to me today. With ministry – you have no real control of the outcome and the results will most likely not be measurable immediately. With tasks – for the most part --- you can control (to a degree) the outcome of your efforts or at least adjust your approach in order to accomplish the needed results. And you can certainly assess whether your task has been accomplished.
Ministry means God is in complete control of what you say, where you go, all the variables are in His hands ----- and the outcome is His too --- to be measured by Him alone. And it is exhausting physically, mentally, and spiritually.

I minister at home --- but in a different way. All my comforts surround me. And I can always walk away from the phone or computer for a break – and have an extra cup of coffee sitting on my sweet front porch swing. Or I can be sure to “plan” my service to others in such a way as to still be able to have my times of renewing and restoration. Not here. It is endless and overwhelming. And even if you do “take a break” there’s no front porch swing surrounded by sweet smelling flowers, fresh air, and singing birds – at least not in Nairobi.

God bless these people who live here ---- and all over the world where ministry is their daily work. Where the itinerary is not in their control and the outcome of their work may not be measurable for years.

Thank you Lord for showing me another weak area in me ---- and therefore more awareness of your unending patience with this daughter of yours.

Soft eyes of pain and obedience... (July 19 late PM)

On the 19th, I spoke to two groups, once in church and once to a group of ladies from several churches gathered in the afternoon.
I find that I love speaking about our Lord to these dear ladies. I’m still unsure of myself, there is little real confidence within me. But God is showing me here in Africa – that when I’m quaking in my shoes, my knees are weak, my heart is hurting for home, and everything around me is unfamiliar ---- when all my comforts and securities are absent --- He then finds a vessel He will speak through. It’s not a vessel that is broken, but instead it is a vessel that is empty of “self”.

It has been an amazing experience. Praying to Him, seeking His filling, and then opening my mouth and being covered with chills as the words coming from my mouth are His. I feel the prayer cover of you all – I truly feel it – thank you so, so much! God is faithful.
If I’ve ever felt unable to speak into someone’s life, it has surely been these past few days. Many of these ladies live a difficult life. Their life is harder than we can begin to grasp. And the only place they can find refuge and sustaining strength is in the Lord. (But then again – isn’t that true for all of us.)
They want to be rescued NOW. So friend --- their “wait on the Lord” is immeasurably different than mine. These ladies contemplate suicide and have lost dear friends who couldn’t take it anymore and were successful in their attempt to end the pain. These ladies grieve over hungry children, drunk husbands, and babies they have had to bury. For many of them there is little comfort in their world. And yet they sat in church and listened to the white lady talk about God. And God had so much to say to them today. He told them how much He adored them. He used the book of Ruth and He met them where they were.

As I shared with them the words of love God placed in my mouth, their questioning, unsure eyes grew soft. And misty tears appeared as they heard HIM. Not tears of sorrow, but tears of “hearing Him”. It was beautiful to see. I told them that even if their earthly father had not loved them gently and tenderly, they needed to know that their Heavenly Father does. He made them because He knew He would miss them if they had never been born. He looks upon them in the morning when they are still sleeping and waits patiently for them to awaken. He adores them and wants to fill them to overflowing with His love and strength and goodness. I knew as these words came out of my mouth --- that they had never heard such loving words before. As I am told, it’s not part of their culture. They are raised to be tough and strong so they can endure the hardships of life in their world. But today God wanted them to hear His heart for them.

I praise God for the words He lavished on these ladies. They are daughters of the King. And the King will be the one to take vengeance on any who have not loved His daughters. But until that day comes, the King calls His daughters to walk in love and keep their eyes on Him.

The men in this land need to change. I believe God will change them and change is already taking place in many homes. I talked late into the night with Bishop David and Joyce last night to try and be sure my understanding of life for these women was accurate, and not skewed in anyway. I was enlightened. Bishop shared with me that extreme abuse was very common in generations past – but that today’s married couple is not plagued with the ruthless abuse of the past. Instead – women are fighting back now. Is that good? Yes and no. I’m glad the abuse is not nearly as prevalent – truly thankful. And a woman should never allow her husband to make a kicking-post of her. But sadly – fighting back does not mean “love” is a part of the equation. Usually fighting back can bring a more terribly result in the end. Tough love is not the same as retaliation – instead it takes a loving stand and refuses to continue to let evil prevail. But thankfully Bishop and Joyce shared that the percentage of abused women has dropped dramatically over the past generation. The biggest problem now is husband’s who drink and use their salaries to pay for beer rather than take care of their family. It’s a type of silent abuse. This is the “abuse” many women endure now. They shared with me that beatings are rare --- even with drunkard husbands. They do still happen --- but not nearly as much as in the past (especially in the cities – the rural areas might still have more abusive men). So it’s still not good --- but it’s at least changing in the right direction. Thank you God.
Ruth suffered too. She knew hunger, she was widowed, she lived with a bitter mother-in-law, and she lived in a culture that was hard on women (which is completely true in Kenya). But Ruth, regardless of her circumstances, chose to love others and do the next right thing everyday. Ruth is a close sister to these dear ladies in Kenya. God blessed Ruth beyond measure as she obediently did the next right thing and simply loved those in her life.

These ladies rarely cry – with tears. When a child dies or they are grieved in some deep way – they will lament, they wail, they cry out with groanings that come from the gut. And tears may or may not appear. But they don’t cry because their heart is touched. Tears of joy are not common at all --- and for some – they have never known them. They are stoic in many ways.

Today – they listened and heard God’s deep love for them. And many of them sat with tears running down their beautiful cheeks.
I was careful to speak truth to them. The truth is --- just because God loves them --- their life will not necessarily become easier. We live in a fallen world. A place where the enemy is squirming and inflicting all the pain he can possibly produce. And God’s response to that is His lavish love on His sons and daughters. He allowed His only Son to endure unbearable pain – all because of His great love for us. God may or may not move the mountains before us ---- but when we live for Him and follow His ways – He will strengthen us to climb the mountain, see Him during the journey, and do amazing things in the process.

God, forgive me for the moments that I have made a mountain out of a mole-hill in my life. The many times I have been so self-focused and self-centered that I actually thought my trials were “too big to bear”. Oh Lord – you’ve opened my eyes once again – and in an even more intense way ---- to what real mountains look like. Thank you for your mercy and patience, your grace and love. Thank you for the gentle man I live with and the beautiful children you have given me to raise for you. I praise you for the little one you took home early – for the grief of that loss is now used by you to help me connect to these women and their losses. Thank you for the food you bless my children with everyday in our safe, peaceful home. It is no small thing at all. Let me take the blessings you have lavished on me and use them fully for good in the lives of those around me. You are a beautiful, mighty, majestic, powerful, gentle, loving, sovereign, holy, righteous God and I worship you fully. Please orchestrate these moments here so they are worthwhile in your eyes Lord.

‘When they cry out to You because of their oppressors, You will send them a Savior and defender, and You will rescue them.’ (Isaiah 19:22b)
‘You will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths You will guide them; You will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things You will do; You will not forsake them.’ (Isaiah 42: 16)
‘Your people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest.’ (Isaiah 32:18)
I ask for this in Jesus’ Name.
Amen.

Mountain tops and valleys... (written July 20 afternoon)

Ok – so today started great! Woke up feeling rested and ready for another day here in Nairobi. But one thing is for sure --- Nairobi is a struggle in every way (and I can’t stand it). The traffic, the air pollution, the tons of people, the street kids, the trash EVERYWHERE, the smells --- of body odor, diesel, dirt, and rotting garbage. The ONLY things I have smelled that were pleasant since my arrival: my shampoo and soap, flowers in a shamba near Mt. Kenya, good food being cooked in Bishop David and Joyce’s kitchen, and some antibacterial wipes sent by a friend. Last night I took one of the wipes scented of “sweet pea” from Bath and Body works --- and laid it on my pillow just so I could go to sleep smelling something good. Am I a whiny baby or what!!! I don’t like that part of me – but if I’m transparent, I must share the bone truth. I despise the stink and dust of this city --- and long for my lavender scented pillow at home.

I should have expected the valley. Since always after a mountain top experience there is sure to be a valley to journey through on the other side. The weekend had its share of struggles --- but all in all it was a beautiful mountain top experience. Mixing the pain I saw in some women’s eyes with the glorious response of God --- the over all outcome was nothing short of wonderful.
So I should have been expecting a jolt – a valley walk today – but I was a bit unprepared for the day. Spiritually – I was set. I began the day early reading the book of James and spending lots of time listening to praise music on my computer. However, emotionally and physically --- I was not prepared.

We went to 6 homes and one school to “visit” and pray for the people who had asked that we come. Some were new believers and some of these had non-believers waiting for our arrival, hoping we would be able to say those right words that would move their hearts toward God. And some (most) were hurting – sick – wounded – and living in a world that was almost too painful to even visit for a few moments. Stories of “ddo” husbands (daily drunk officers). It’s what the wives jokingly call their alcoholic (sometimes abusive) husbands. They come home drunk everynight after having spent their daily earnings on beer. The woman is left wondering how she will feed her children the next day. And arguing with him about it will not bring good results. God help these women!
These were Christian ladies (but not one of their husbands share their faith) --- and as I sat in their homes and heard the stories told humbly and with a flavor of brokenness --- I was overcome to realize the situation these ladies find themselves in day after day. It was too much to even imagine. But I needed to --- so that I could cry out to God for her and with her. And I did.

As we went from home to home --- these ladies --- poor and broken as they are --- opened their doors and revealed an amazingly clean home (well except for one of them). You step off the squalor in the dirt street into a small, cramped, but reasonably clean “home”. It’s a culture shock experience over and over again. How can there be piles of trash, roving street boys, and dogs with pups carrying bloated bellies filled with worms just 2 feet from the place these ladies call “home”. They wash everything by hand --- and cook everything over open fires on a “gicko”. They scrub their children until they shine – and serve tea to everyone who enters their door. But they struggle to have enough food and they know their fate tonight will be the same as it was last night. He will come home when he wants to and do what he wants to when he enters the door with no consideration of his responsibility to feed and care for his family. God help these ladies.

And so I reached my physical limit today. I became ill --- sick to my stomach. I wanted to throw-up --- but wouldn’t allow it. Because the bottom line is --- their needs are so much greater than mine. They live in it --- and I get sick just visiting. God help me in my weakness --- but first help them in their NEED.

I have never met a more hospitable group of people than these ladies --- except for perhaps my dear mother and father in law – Richard and Mary. If you walk into my in-laws home – you are welcomed and made to feel right at home. Mary and Richard just know how to love people. And the same is true with these dear ladies here. Today they explained to me --- that in their culture – they believe that if you enter their home and take something to eat or drink --- then you are leaving behind a blessing on their home when you leave. If you do not eat or drink --- they feel robbed of the blessing. But finally at the last house, I told the dear lady named Jemima – that my stomach was feeling badly and that I knew I would throw-up if I took more tea. I asked her if I could place my hands on her and pray a blessing on her home instead --- assuring her that God will bless the prayer more quickly that the taking of food. She agreed --- I’m so thankful ---- for I really didn’t want to @#%&* in her home. There would be no water to clean it up ---as there is a water shortage in Nairobi due to the drought. And can you believe, I didn’t want to yammy outside --- because it was just too dirty out there. (How crazy does that sound…)

Friends --- after you read this ---- walk through your home (your big, beautiful home) and thank God for each and every room ---even your closets. Thank Him for your clean floors, your running water, your toilet that flushes, your grassy yard, and every flower that blooms in your garden. Thank Him for your washing machines and dish washers, your soft, warm, clean beds, thank Him for your safe, healthy children --- and the good men in your life. And thank Him for healthy pets, your refrigerator and freezer, the soft rugs under your clean feet, and the sweet smells that permeate the place you call home. God has lavished each and every one of us --- beyond measure --- beyond belief. Praise Him for His goodness to you. Thank Him for the money in your pocket and your bank and your cds and your stocks/investments (even if they are not giving you a good return right now). Thank Him for your paved driveway and the fact that you can go to the store riding in a nice car – walk across a paved parking area, purchase all the food you need, drive back home and park in your garage --- and through the entire outing – your feet never even touch dirt. Thank Him for your mailbox and phone and computer and cell phone as well. Thank Him for your cabinets that are filled with dishes (some of which you may never even use) and for the coffee pot that sits on your counter. Thank Him for your beautifully decorated home – with curtains over unbroken windows. Thank Him that you do not have bars on every window. Thank Him for the pictures of your blessed family found hanging on your beautifully painted walls and polished table tops. Thank him for the birds that sing outside your home and the peacefulness of the night when you put your babies to bed and lay your head on your sweet smelling pillow. Oh --- THANK HIM.
And pray for Alice, Nancy, Veronica, Monica, Beatrice, Jemima, Jane, and Windrose. Their lives are harsh and difficult and they have none of the things I just mentioned above.

This day was a journey through a valley. The valley was filled with sad story after sad story ---- but a valley that is well traveled by our Lord. He has not forgotten them --- oh God --- come quickly please.

At the far end of this valley --- God blessed me. I was able to talk with my Steve on Skype. I actually got to see his face and we talked for a long time. God knew exactly what was needed – and He opened the way.

I love you all dearly --- and am so thankful for where you live and who you live with. ☺

Elias and the cow... (written July 18th late PM)

Today I found myself in deep Africa – in a place so rural and far from the beaten path, that I could never have found my way out if not for the Kikuyu ladies with me. I laugh to myself as I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of ladies chattering in a language I don’t understand and am inundated with their culture and practices which are so very different from my own.
These are Christian people – sons and daughters of God – so in an odd way, I am at home. But more often I am reminded that I am in a very foreign land. Today I did not see another muzungu (white person). And for the first time ever, a child was absolutely terrified of me. He had never seen a muzungu before, and my white skin, green eyes, and light colored hair completely horrified him. I could not comfort him, as he spoke no English, and it was disturbing to me because loving children is what comes naturally to me. The ladies with me explained that most likely the child thought I had been burned terribly or something like that – because according to my African friends here, when a black person is burned, the scar tissue that remains is white. So to this child I looked monstrous.
Later today we went to Kibongoti to speak to a group of ladies at the church. It was a precious meeting – and God was very present. Thank you God!
When leaving the church, there were about a dozen beautiful, dirty, unkempt children who came running to see the muzungu. They called to me, waving with vigor and laughing wildly when I spoke to them --- but they would not come near me. They truly looked at me as if I were some strange oddity that they couldn’t resist watching but wanted no real part of. We rode through town 3 times today, and not one other muzungu was in sight. It was quite an odd experience, and I knew I was in the heart of Africa, modern day Africa, today.

I must share with you about Elias. He is about 20 years old (no one knows his actual age because they have not kept up with his birthday). He is a young man who suffers from cerebral palsy. Elias walks, but with a terrible limp, and his hands and arms are drawn. He speaks with a drawl and struggles to find words that can be understood. But oh when he smiles!!!
Elias’s smile is without a doubt the brightest, most sincere smile I have ever seen. No joke – it is spectacular. And beyond that, when he worships God – I am quite certain Heaven’s angels pause and give audience to him.

Several months ago when planning this trip, I had asked the pastors wives to let me know of any specific needs so I could pray about them and seek God’s provision. One pastor’s wife replied asking me to prayerfully consider purchasing and delivering a calf/cow to a young man with cerebral palsy since he had been praying for some time now that God would bless him with a cow to care for, grow, sell for a profit, and then purchase another calf to begin again. He looked at this as a business venture, a way for him to be able to make money, while at the same time having something that “needed” him --- something he could care for.
So after praying over the requests – I ordered them in the importance according to God’s guidance to me.
Elias’s cow was at the top of the list.

So today, I walked up a narrow green pathway with huge cornstalks on either side of the path – coffee and tea growing all around me. No road access --- the place was too beautiful for roads and the people who live there can not afford cars. It was at the base of Mt. Kenya, with views that rivaled any I’ve ever seen. The sky was blue, the clouds white and puffy (my favorite), the breeze was gentle, and the excitement contagious. As I walked up this path, I led a young cow to the home of Elias the cripple who loves God. Elias knew I was coming – with his father’s help he had built a small coral with a sturdy feed bin packed full of fresh cut greens. Elias was ready.

And when he walked (hobbled) down the pathway to meet us (the cow and me) --- I KNOW God smiled. Elias was beaming and exclaiming loudly, “God bless you so much!” in his slurred dialect.

That moment was in the top ten wonderful moments of my entire life. I could actually FEEL God’s overwhelming love for this crippled young man. And during those moments, I know Elias felt it too.

Everyone in the area is poor beyond belief –but they are not hungry. They have beautiful crops and water is plentiful. So for Elias to receive a young cow --- he has now become more wealthy than his own father. Elias is loved dearly by all his neighbors --- they have formed a wall of protection around him and so Elias lives tucked away in a fertile, beautiful place where the outside world has little chance to impact or wound. Elias has known enough pain. Shortly after his birth, when his mother realized something was wrong with him, she walked the distance from her residence to where he now lives and literally THREW him on the ground in front of his grandmother. She spoke words of death and curse over him and then left forever.

The grandmother looks like something out of prehistoric times. She was gruff, hard, and had skin that looked like elephant hide. But regardless of her exterior, she had picked up the broken child and loved him. Elias’s father soon after left the birth mother explaining to her that he loved his son, and would not desert him (not all men here are brutal, some are loving and kind). So in this tiny, hidden community, Elias has grown under the care of his grandmother, father, and neighbors. He has not heard from his mother since that day.
No electricity, no running water, no roads, no pollution. It was literally like walking through an Eden in today’s world.
Elias had prepared his home for his visitors. Benches (handmade) were sitting outside his humble home (a tiny shack that had been built for him on his father’s small piece of land by men from Elias’s church), the ground had been churned and smoothed, and of course Kenyan tea was waiting as well. (I prayed as I sipped mine – as I do with most meals I take here – and I thank God for His protection over me.) The pastor who had made the actual arrangements for the purchase of the cow, stood and shared words of love, encouragement, and life with Elias and his visitors. Then several others spoke, and I stood to speak truth to Elias. The truth that God was the giver of the cow, and I was only the one walking up the path with it. To the best of my ability I spoke words of life, light, and truth over Elias.

Today, Elias fully embraced just how much his Heavenly Father adores him.

Elias then stood up and worshipped God with hands held high and using words that were surely understood by God. I wish you could have seen it, heard it, and felt the air around us. Our Father was most pleased – I could feel His rejoicing in the worship of this crippled child of His.

After sharing some Kenyan tea, I then looked around Elias’s garden on his tiny shamba (farm). The pastor walked with me to explain the different plants. I asked the pastor if Elias’s father was a Christian. He said no – he was not. So I asked if he would interpret and let me invite Elias’s father to church the next day.
The interpreter shared my English words transforming them into the understood Kikuyu. And God opened my mouth. In a matter of moments I found myself praying with this man (Jarod) as he asked Jesus to become his Savior. He was painfully humble, soft spoken, and meek in everyway. He then called his wife over to us (Elias’s step mother). Her name is Faith. But she had no faith in her heart because she did not know the Savior. He talked with her as interpreters shared with me what he was saying. And within 10 minutes, Faith prayed and asked Jesus to come into her heart.
Amen! Praise the Lord!

So today Elias got a cow from God ---- and his father and step mother got their names written in the Lamb’s book of life.

It was a beautiful day!
Thank you God.

Speaking to the wounded women... (written July 18th early AM)

On Thursday, July 16, I spoke with a group of women and I was sure I felt God with me. How thankful I am for His presence. Since I am completely aware of my inability to help these women, but I have full confidence in God’s ability to bring understanding to them of what He says about loving their husbands and being His daughter.
Most of these women either have been mistreated, are still mistreated, or they live with the understanding in their culture that women are “less than” and therefore intimate, Godly love is lost to them in relationships with their husbands.

It is a personal challenge to me to stand in front of a group of women and tell them to love their husbands and keep their promise of marriage and faithfulness to their husbands when the reality of their lives is that they may very well be beaten by that same man I’m holding them accountable to love. It is making me look hard at the scriptures and realign my understanding of what God says, rather than what I have deduced from the vantage point of my culture, my life, my own marriage, and what I’ve been taught.

I’m drawn to Ruth (in the Bible). She was married to Naomi’s son, he died, and then Ruth remained faithful to Naomi (by choice not by law). We do not know if Ruth’s husband was kind or mean, the Bible makes know issue of that point. After becoming a widow, Ruth and Naomi travel back to Bethlehem, their homeland. When they arrived, Naomi embraced her bitterness and grief, while Ruth went to work gleaning in the fields for something to eat.
Ruth’s life could not have been easy. It surely was very difficult. The Lord does not even see the value in giving us more intimate details about the harshness of her life during those days, but when studying the culture of the time, we can know these were overwhelmingly difficult days for Ruth. And yet, she continues to do the right thing, regardless of circumstances.
Thankfully God causes Ruth to be noticed by Boaz, the owner of the field where she happens to be gleaning. Boaz tells the men of the area not to touch her and then he speaks to her and welcomes her to glean in his fields, asking her to not go to other fields so she can remain safe from harm.
The beautiful story continues on with the conclusion of Ruth and Boaz eventually being married.

The point that touches my heart is that Ruth’s life was VERY hard. She was alone with a bitter mother-in-law and undoubtedly hungry. She reacted to all this, by simply getting up each day and doing the next right thing --- she went to the fields and worked gathering food.
God sees her humbleness and her perseverance and He recognizes her continued love for her mother in law. And by His grace he chooses to bless her with a husband of high standing and a child named Obed. Obed was the father of Jesse who was the father of David, King David. And David was a forefather of Jesus.
Ruth’s gentle obedience and love was rewarded by God in amazing ways --- she was a blood line ancestor to Christ.

So as I ponder on telling these women in Africa to LOVE their husbands and remember their marriage vows regardless of how the husband chooses to act --- I am humbled to know that this is the right thing. God does not necessarily look at the circumstances of our lives --- He looks at how we choose to live within those circumstances. And if we love with His love – a love that is patient, kind, does not envy or boast, is not proud. If we love in a way that is not rude or self-seeking, is not easily angered and keeps no record of wrongs. If our love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres, then our love will not fail.

In 1 Corinthians 13: 13 we are told, “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love, But the greatest of these is love.”
We must have faith in God to believe Him for meeting our needs and even if husbands are wrong in their choices (as many are here in Africa), we can continue to hope in the Lord (not in the man, but in the Lord). But the greatest of these three things is LOVE. Because love is an instrument God can and will flow through --- and change lives.

Today I speak with another group of ladies. Their pastor has shared with me the intense challenges these ladies face everyday. I have never been beaten or brutalized – they have. I have never been mistreated by my dear Steve or my good father – these women have been mistreated by the men in their lives. I feel insufficient to speak into their pained lives as I have only ever known a life filled with good men who protect and love. And I confess, the flesh side of me wants to say --- if your husband is beating you --- then I’ll get a group of good men from America and we’ll come beat the crap out of him until he stops beating you!
But God in me says, no – he says --- tell them what MY WORD says – and do not speak with your words but with mine. Tell them about Ruth and read them 1 Corinthians 13 – and I’ll be the one and only Savior they need. If they love and follow me, I will change the world in which they live. Only the power of the Holy Spirit can do such a thing.

God please be the words I speak today. You be the message in this vessel called me. Give them ears to hear your truth and strength to endure and persevere in your ways. May their husbands be transformed by the renewing of YOUR SPIRIT and may your love be seen, felt, heard, and embraced in their lives and in their relationships.

It’s a message too big for me Lord – but one that is well fitted to You.

Surrendering... (written Friday, July 17)

-my need to understand, to make sense of what I see.
Why am I here (in Kenya), what value can there be in it.
Is it a secret, silent happening? Is something being done outside my range of vision? Please God, may it be worthwhile, pleasing to you.

Several years back, when my Maggie couldn’t see clearly things at a distance, we took her to the eye doctor and she received glasses that when put on her sweet face made things in the distance visibly clear. She exclaimed, “I never realized that it was possible to actually see the millions of individual leaves on the trees in the distance”. She had only been able to see the glob of green in the hazy distance.
Isn’t it true for us as well? Even with our best efforts, even while we look with intent and even a longing to understand, the reality of what is before us can usually only appear as a curious sort of glob. Unclear to us as we gaze at it with what we think are clear eyes.

If we ask God, will he fit us with a pair of glasses that will allow us to see the reality of what is undoubtedly around us. How would we live differently if we could “see” the impact in the spiritual realm brought about by our actions, our thoughts, our choices, our reactions? It’s the realm where the angels minister and where they do battle. They are able to see our world as well as the one that is hidden from us. They are given access to see what we can not. They see the times we miss seeing Christ among us. They intervene and give comfort to the broken, suffering, wounded one as they also engage in battle with the evil that seeks to consume that same soul. And how often do they wonder, “Why didn’t she speak truth, why didn’t she pour out love and truth, mercy and light???” She holds the Word in her hands and recites the words with her mouth in church, during her quiet times, when she’s comfortable to do so. But oh how we long for her to pour out those same anointed words of power into the wounded lives brought before her; in the moments when it’s not comfortable.
Can you see, in your mind’s eye, the angel who is prepared to do battle in your stead? He stands guard, powerfully. His mighty hand rests on the hilt of his sword. He is poised and prepared and wondering. Must I draw my sword or will she use the sword she possesses – the sword of the Word of God. Do you ever wonder if the angels smile when in a moment we do speak words of life into the lives of those around us. Words that cause the demons of hell to shreak and run. Christ’s blood was given for more than our salvation. There is POWER in His precious shed blood. Lord help me to put to good use each and every drop of your gift.
You do not let us see this hidden realm, for I sense we are far to weak. And you did not design us to engage in that world. You designed us to be effective in the world where we are. Help us to remember though that to have the impact you have equipped us to have, we can and should use your Words of life to speak against the evil one when he is tormenting in this realm.
No glasses can be worn to see what you protect us from seeing. But oh Lord you do give us WORDS of LIFE which will bless and change the world we can see as well as do battle in the realm we cannot.

Oh the Suffering in this world...

As I write this it is Thursday, July 16th – but I have no way of predicting when I will be able to actually post it on my blog. Internet has been down for days now (no access since leaving the Dubai airport), which makes me feel truly cut off from the world I am most comfortable with. No skyping, no emailing, no facebooking, no connecting. God is only allowing me to connect with what is in front of me, forcing me to do so. And what is in front of me is suffering people.
So my journey is now taking me down a dusty, dry, long, parched road – for these days in Kenya while I am away from home and from family.
(Amazingly, I have internet for this moment - thank you God.)
But I am safe, healthy, and holding (clinging) to God’s promises. “Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous fall.” Psalm 55:22 (I’m righteous only because of Christ in me.)

Today I went into Kibera slums – the largest slum in Africa. It is a world within itself. A planet apart from our world yet on this same earth. Urine, feces, and children all ran freely in its alleys and trails (notice I did not say streets). As I followed my guide to the home we were going to visit – I felt eyes on me and I knew they were wondering, “What is the mazungu doing here?” But no harm came my way. I just kept my eyes on the path in front of me, partially to avoid eye contact and partially to avoid stepping in human waste. We wove throughout the shacks, the multitude of smells was overwhelming, a bridge had been made out of car fenders – a bridge to give passage over a river of waste. And children ran barefoot – in this place they call home. We finally came to the home we were to visit. A new baby had been born – and we were coming to bring gifts and pray blessings over the child. We climbed the tiniest, narrow, winding set of stairs I have EVER seen, and stepped into their home. It was tiny but amazingly clean. Being on a second level, it did not have to endure the many things that would undoubtedly come dribbling down if it had been on the ground level. We greeted a dear mother, and a loving father who worked to prepared us a cup of Kenyan tea. Yes – I have taken tea and eggs in Kibera Slum. As you certainly know, there is arguably not a “cleaner” person in the world (except perhaps my mother). And yet, I am most mindful of the path God has me on. Did I want to go in the slums – truthfully no. Would I rather be home with my dear Steve – most definitely yes. In NO way have I choreographed these steps I am now taking on my path. But I trust the one who is leading me and I question Him enough and then wait for His answers, to be certain of His map for me. Therefore I sit in one of the filthiest places on earth, sip tea, love the ones in front of me, and pray.
So I held the beautiful baby – Haran. Healthy, loved, and completely unaware of the world he has been born into – as well as the world that is beyond the confines of the slum. And I measured the weight in my heart as I tried to ponder – why God would bring a child into a place such as this. And what I hear Him say to me in my heart is, “My ways are higher than your ways…” God does not need comfort or even cleanliness to be very present! For He most certainly was wonderfully present in the room where I held this new child and prayed.
And I will go there to see Him.
After our time was finished, I then was taken to a preschool in the slum. A tiny room (about 12x20) that held 38 gorgeous 2 and 3 year old children. Children who just 6 months ago had roamed the streets of Kibera during the day. This tiny, God-loving church built with dirt, wooden sticks, and rusty tin has begun a preschool for them. They were packed inside the dark, dirt floor classroom, and seemed to actually find comfort and security in the close quarters. They sang and sang and sang – of Jesus’ love for them and theirs for Him. They know too well what the face of evil looks like, they have felt the fury of its impact – and so even at their young age, they desperately and beautifully embrace the goodness of our God. Perhaps they cling to the Savior more intensely than we do – oh how they must please Jehovah. As they looked at their white, clean, well fed visitor, they smiled so brightly and laughed from their bellies when the Mazungu couldn’t follow their words correctly. I saw Jesus in their faces.
The pastor pointed out to me the children that were double orphans (both parents dead). When I asked where they “lived”, he explained that they live here and there and rely on the kindness of those around them to clothe and feed them. And each day, they somehow find their way to the wooden door of their dirt floor classroom. He directed my attention to the little girl who’s mother had just died and whose father now struggled to work and care for her. He showed me the child who is crippled and the one who is mentally impaired. He explained to me that many of the children are used in the late evenings to deliver drugs and return with the money. THEY’RE THREE YEARS OLD! Oh the suffering! Oh the pain! Oh the injustice!
And so more than ever I wanted to hear that trumpet sound – I wanted to see Jesus in the clouds coming with bands of angels. I didn’t want to see Him in the faces of these children anymore – I wanted it to all be over. The suffering is too intense to bear.

I cried today – so hard – I thought I might break something on the inside. Seeing the suffering, missing my Steve, smelling the ugliness of evil did break something inside me and I “leaked” in the breaking.

God’s response --- “look into my eyes”.
“I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27:13-14

Baby Steps

I'm sitting in the Dubai airport surrounded by people who might nor might know the Lord -- their everywhere. Do they love GOD? The One True Singular GOD? Oh but I feel His love for them. People clothed in gowns, robes, head dresses - with beautiful dark skinned complexions. But do they have His light in their eyes? It's just a wondering I have in my heart and mind - almost everywhere I go. Do they know HIM? I hope they do, or will, or can someday -- before they leave this temporary home.

Leaving home this morning - or yesterday morning (time is confusing when flying to the other side of the world) was hard -- it's never easy to leave the comfort and peace of our spot on Mockingbird Rd. But God is making it all completely ok. His blessings are felt and His favor is walking ahead of us. Thank you Lord.
I will often here people say -- I wish I could hear God speak to me -- the way you say He speaks to you. Well -- here's a way God spoke today (or yesterday actually) to Maggie and I as we had just walked away from Steve and Pete at the Atlanta airport. We walked into the security screening area and blew one last kiss to them. Those moments are just difficult. Obeying the call - yes -- stinging from the sacrifice of comfort and loving arms for the next 30 days - in honesty - yes. I will not be pretentious -- but honest to the bone.
So anyway -- the tears came -- and we walked on to the security checkpoint. As we walked up to the counter to pull out our laptops, take off our shoes, and send everything through the screening cameras --- the grey tub that was ours to use --- held two shiny pennies. Some might miss His voice in those pennies -- but Maggie and I both heard Him. Maggie spoke, "Mom there He is - and what is He saying?" I tearfully replied, "He's saying 'In God we Trust', twice - once for each of us".
Thank you God!
We hear you speaking even as I sit in this airport typing to those I love and who love me on this earth. YOU --- GOD OF THE UNIVERSE cared enough about these two daughters of yours to remind us in a silent penny face ---- "trust me -- I love you -- I'm right here -- remember who has called you -- who is able -- and who is carrying you --- trust me -- live it -- show it --- it's ok if you are tearful -- I will speak to you even in your tears -- and I will walk with you making you strong for the tasks that I will bring before you".

Yes -- all that -- that's what I hear my precious, powerful, gentle, majestic Father say to me --- as I hold the two pennies He used to gently remind.

And so part of the journey --- is taking the steps He places in front of me --- and eagerly looking for Him and watching, listening, seeking for how, where, when He will speak again. It's what makes the journey so beautiful.
I'd rather hear Him in a simple penny - than not hear Him in a lavish palace...

Only God could use words with such sweet timing as He did in my quiet time this morning with Him. From "My Utmost for His Highest" -- Oswald Chambers preached the sermon penned below by his dear wife. I'm so glad he spoke it all those years ago (what was true then, is still true now), and I'm so thankful for his wife's obedience to put on paper the sermons she had heard her dear husband preach. How she must have missed him as she wrote his words for others to glean truth from. (It was not until after his passing that she began writing the many books we now have from Oswald Chambers - he himself only wrote one book during his lifetime.)

Thank you all for your prayers!
This little soldier is feeling much better - no sore throat now - no headache - and words of strength and courage are finding the marrow of my bones now.
Here was today's dose of truth ---

All Efforts of Worth and Excellence Are Difficult

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Enter by the narrow gate . . . . Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life . . . —Matthew 7:13-14

If we are going to live as disciples of Jesus, we have to remember that all efforts of worth and excellence are difficult. The Christian life is gloriously difficult, but the difficulty does not make us faint and cave in—it stirs us up to overcome. Do we appreciate the miraculous salvation of Jesus Christ enough to be our utmost for His highest—our best for His glory?

God saves people by His sovereign grace through the atonement of Jesus, and "it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure" ( Philippians 2:13 ). But we have to "work out" that salvation in our everyday, practical living (Philippians 2:12). If we will only start on the basis of His redemption to do what He commands, then we will find that we can do it. If we fail, it is because we have not yet put into practice what God has placed within us. But a crisis will reveal whether or not we have been putting it into practice. If we will obey the Spirit of God and practice in our physical life what God has placed within us by His Spirit, then when a crisis does come we will find that our own nature, as well as the grace of God, will stand by us.

Thank God that He does give us difficult things to do! His salvation is a joyous thing, but it is also something that requires bravery, courage, and holiness. It tests us for all we are worth. Jesus is "bringing many sons to glory" (Hebrews 2:10 ), and God will not shield us from the requirements of sonship. God’s grace produces men and women with a strong family likeness to Jesus Christ, not pampered, spoiled weaklings. It takes a tremendous amount of discipline to live the worthy and excellent life of a disciple of Jesus in the realities of life. And it is always necessary for us to make an effort to live a life of worth and excellence.

God is good to us all the time. He allows me to be weak - and will supply the strength at just the moment it will be needed. If He supplied it to early - then I might become cocky and think too highly of myself (thinking I was capable on my own - God forbid). If He supplied it to late - then I might lose heart and shrink back from the calling completely having no confidence in the reason for the task at hand. But instead He supplies the strength and courage at just the perfect moment -- just after I've realized my complete inability. Then HIS COMPLETE ABILITY shines most beautifully --- even if for no one else but this one daughter. (But I pray it will be seen my MANY).
In my weakness --- HE is strong.
That He would increase and I would decrease.

May we see more of you Father -- and less of ourselves...

Laying down the Heart - Laying on the Hands

Oh friends - today was a big day in silent, tearful ways.
My heart hit a brick wall -- it began last night - can't explain how or why - but over the last 24 hour period of time, I KNOW God's angels have been engaged in warfare - protecting this wee little soul that belongs to their Father.

Not warfare to "save" my soul (it's already been saved - thank you Jesus) -- but instead, warfare to "preserve" my soul.
"For He will command His angels concerning you, to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone."Psalm 91:11-12

It began with the feeling of weight - heavy weight on me -- yet nothing visible had changed. Then words spoken - not intended to hurt or harm - but received in that way. It continued with a keen awareness of all that is ahead with the preparations, planning and packing, and then climaxed with an overwhelming missing of my youngest son Pete (in the photo with me in Kenya last year) - who is right here in the house with me - but will not be close by this mother's heart one week from now, or two, or three, or even four.
It overwhelmed me in the silence. Have you ever had moments, hours, days, or weeks like that? When words couldn't fully express the depths your heart had plummeted to. And no one was at fault, no finger could be pointed at the "problem". And yet it feels as if the wind has been knocked out of you, you can't breath right, you can't think straight, and you're not "yourself" on the inside.
I'm so thankful for Paul's honesty -- he lets us know in the scripture over and over again that he was well acquainted with attacks -- and more often than not - his were visible - they were not just attacks on the heart and soul. And what did Paul do? He rejoiced, he praised God, he reminded himself of the race -- and continued to pursue the finish line. He pressed on toward the goal.

So today in the midst of the lung crushing weight of the unseen attack on my heart and soul. My sweet daughter brought me a cd from church saying - Mom this man talked to us today and I knew you would want/need to hear this. (Yes - in the midst of the scrimmage - I woke up this morning with a sore throat, a killer headache, and my back not wanting to move - so I missed church - which is very, very rare indeed). She brought home the cd AND a caramel pie from O'Charleys (my favorite) and I felt loved. My husband came home from work early to begin unfolding the words that had been misunderstood and replacing them with words of truth - and I felt loved. And my sister dropped by our home, having missed seeing me at church, to check on me. She spoke truth, and love, and support, and grace. She placed her hands on Maggie and I and prayed from her heart to the heart of God. He heard - and I felt loved.
The enemy's strategy was well executed - but our Father's response was more beautiful and more powerful. And His response came through the hands of others. Angels and people.
"I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands. For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline." 2 Timothy 1:6-7.

And so today - the journey was tedious and timid. The body felt weak (and I've not even begun the Africa part of the journey - jeeze.), the mind felt uncertain, and the heart felt unable. But God blesses me with His sure reminders that there will be days in the journey that will have lots of tears -- and then days with lots of laughter. Some days may be more weighted in the direction of one or the other. Today the tears filled up their side of the scales - and overflowed. God allowed me much time - with my head in my hands - weeping. Did you know that God will actually sit in the floor with you -- and hold your head while you weep? And did you know He collects your tears and saves them in a bottle. Psalm 56:8 (KJV) Why? He loves us friend.

And then - if that is not enough - He gives me/us this precious promise over the tears we shed --- "Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him." Psalm 126:5-6
My it be so in Jesus' name.

Thank you Jesus!
After todays tears - if the harvest is proportionate to the tears ...

Ready - Set - ...

Waiting on the "go".
It's just one week away - the beginning of the next portion of the journey. There is much to still be done before we're ready to go, but even the preparing is part of the trip.
I'm not completely "excited" - I don't like being away from Steve and home (unless of course he is with me), but I'm learning everyday, every week, every month, every year --- it's really not about what I "like". That's a huge part of the journey --- if I'm going to travel well and be worth much at the end of the trip, not just this trip -- but the over-all trip, the "life" trip.
I love the comfort of home, the routine of a pleasant day, the sureness of my coffee, my quiet time, my safe haven, my pets, hearing the voices of the ones I love most deeply sifting through the walls and halls of our peaceful home. And yet - in my journey so far - I have come to realize all these wonderful gifts come from the wonderful giver - my Father. So as this loving Father cares for me in so many good ways - I've come to embrace the fact - that I want to give back - I want to pursue what He wants - I want to journey for Him, with Him, and towards Him. And journeying is not synonymous with sitting is it? There is movement, change, progression in the act of journeying.
My journey is not perfect, nor do I expect it to become so. But it is real, sincere, and consuming. I've come to know completely - that I am not able to plan the way. My maps will not get me to where I someday hope to arrive. Only God holds the maps - and He's not letting me sneak a peek.
So in seeking Him, and obediently responding to His guidance, I find that the journey is underway. Without map in hand -- but with my hand in His. He's patient, he will allow me to mess up - and He covers it all with His amazing Grace. How sweet it really does sound.

I'm sincere about my journey, patient with other travelers (most of the time), and intent on my goal.
I know for sure my journey will bring me to Heaven's door. Thank you Christ for your gift of salvation. I know my Father will be patient with me as I travel through this journey called "life". The part that remains in question, is "how" will I journey each day. Will I love well, live gently towards others, light the way for those stuck in darkness, and laugh enough? Will I hear those most precious words from the most precious One at the end of the journey? It's what I live for now. I live each day for what will be then, after this, at journey's end.
When I finally see His face, and hear Him say...

I'll be journaling about my journey. You're welcome to share the walks with me. But don't expect much from me --- instead --- let's together place our hopes in HIM. Maybe you'll see Him in the grandness of the journey or in the grace that He pours out on my mistakes and shortcomings. Either way - the goal is -- to see HIM. And to hopefully be inspired to journey well.