Daily Bread

John 6

³² Jesus said to them, “Very truly I tell you, it is not Moses who has given you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. ³³ For the bread of God is the bread that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.”
³⁴ “Sir,” they said, “always give us this bread.”

There was a season in college where I would forget to eat. It wasn't a ploy to lose weight. I just didn't find comfort in food nor did I have much of an appetite. My meals would me small if I had one. I will admit that I liked how my waist line shrunk. Even though my unhealthy eating habit wasn't about weight, truthfully, I liked the attention I received from how small I had gotten.

Over the next few months or so I started to notice other things change. I started loosing some hair and getting frequent headaches and colds. Towards the end of this unhealthy lifestyle I even caught pneumonia and was put in the hospital for a week. My season of sickness effected my school work and I had to withdraw from school for a semester.

All though my outward appearance was acceptable by the world's standards, my inside was spiraling down and wrecking havoc on my life. Choosing or forgetting to do the things that made a healthy body created a scary situation .

This morning I thought about that season in my life in relation to receiving daily bread. The necessity of food for our body was used in relating our need to be connected with God through Christ. Still, I find myself struggling, even on an intentional mission field, to take in my daily bread- to consume the work/word of the Lord in dependence. Sometimes it is a choice of doing something else instead of starting my morning off in prayer and scripture. Other times I forget my need of Him and feel I can handle it on my own. I think I can handle it on my own terms. 

This past week, I woke up feeling like I was starving for Him. I wanted to drink  in all of His goodness and grace. Depending on myself to get through the day only led to disappointment and want. He has been the only think that satisfies me. So, I find my self asking above all "Lord, give me my daily bread". 

³⁵ Then Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. ³⁶ But as I told you, you have seen me and still you do not believe. ³⁷ All those the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never drive away.

Perseverance

My classroom at Canaan Christian School

I've been here just over a month now and it has been a struggle.

I've delayed sharing an update because it has been a really hard month. It feels like I have experienced every kind of challenge that I could: emotional, relational, physical, and financial.

Bouncing between two cultures in such a short time has left my head spinning. Neither one felt right to me. Neither one is better but I still feel stuck. Being back in the states for a few weeks was wonderful. I loved seeing my friends and family. However, after a few days there I started to notice the "culture current" that often sweeps people up. It was the first time that it felt so uncomfortable to me. It's hard to explain other than saying it felt like I was stuck in a wool, turtleneck sweater.

Hang in there one this one...

It's like being unable to get your head in or out of the neck hole. It's itchy, a little scary, and you feel a little desperate.

As for my class, I've been told that the first few months after Christmas break, for any classroom, student or teacher, are the most difficult. Woof. Amen. Preach. I have struggled so much and my kids have struggled so much. I've had to hand out loads of discipline for cheating. Cheating has felt like an epidemic that even takes the most trustworthy students out. Call it kids being kids or the culture but I call it a problem. The communication between my Haitian co-teacher has been tricky in the midst of trying to help out students with integrity.  The work has been frustrating, aggravating, discouraging and most definitely exhausting.

The exhaustion I could handle but a sweet, little, stomach bug... nope. It was a "I WANT MY MOMMY" kind of weekend. To have my health down for 4 days in the midst of everything else has left me vulnerable to lies. It took a lot out of me and trying to catch up on water and food took a couple more days. Good health is so important to endurance in every part of life.

Financially... I've been pushing through. My fundraising has been much more difficult this time around. From making the last minute decision to come back for another semester in the midst of the holiday season and trying to pack and move out of my apartment during an ice storm... finances have been a struggle.  At this point I don't have enough to last me another month.

Despite all of these struggles and how hard this month has been I know that I was called back even if it ends up being only a month or two. I would want this experience to be a time to change the way I pray. Instead of asking the Lord to show me his sovereignty, my prayers have changed to help me trust in it even when I can't see it or understand the way it works.

The truth in all these struggles is that I don't want to go back to the states and get swept up in the current. I want to be changed. If my kids can't break the bad habits that are harmful, at least they see that I won't stop trying to help even if I can't see the fruit of my effort. I have gotten to experience sweeter blessings from loved ones that have helped me pack and move my things while I am away in another country. Which has been harder to accept than any funds that have been given during this season. It has also been the sweetest gift I've ever received.

It's been a tough month but I'm still pushing through. Please pray for me as I process the two different cultures I am apart of. Pray for my students, my Haitian co-teacher, and I to keep pushing through the barriers of culture, language, and life. Pray for the financial needs that are before me to be able to visit the states in a few weeks and to come back to work at Canaan if that is what He want for me.

Romans 5
³ Not only so, but we^[c] also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; ⁴ perseverance, character; and character, hope. ⁵ And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

Battlefront

Ephesians 6

¹⁰ Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. ¹¹ Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. ¹² For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. ¹³ Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. ¹⁴ Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, ¹⁵ and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. ¹⁶ In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; ¹⁷ and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God...

 To say that this past month has been trying is too kind. It has been frontlines kind of combat. Full of fear, battle wounds, and surrender.

This past month I have had to truly wrestle with the decision to come back. I've faced obstacles of new students, their complexes stemming from neglect, and the desperate need to change the way I perceive this ministry. It has not been pretty. I have not been pretty. There were a few days I woke up crying because I didn't want to go to school. Those days frustration and exhaustion waged to steal every type of joy and beauty I see here. It was a long, hard fight.

How divinely inspired that Ephesians 6: 10-17 was the scripture our students were assigned to memorize?

My fight was not with my kids or the leadership of Canaan.

It was not with my community here or the longing of family.

It wasn't with flesh or blood.

But with the brokenness and sin that the enemy desperately tries to use to rule in our lives.

As I became more resolved in my desire to stay at Canaan another semester, the enemy became more intentional with the way he used brokenness. Despite the lies screaming in my ear, the tenderness of my Lord wouldn't give up. Every time I got closer to the decision of staying I received more peace. More grace. He continually renewed my spirit and showed me how I had to depend on Him. No matter how many times I heard the lies that I was unqualified to care for my students well or make a difference, I didn't have to give up.

I just had to surrender to His will.

Victory.

So, it has been a long, hard fight. And it's not over yet. I'm staying out on this battlefront. Learning to put the Armor of God on. Learning to surrender. Please join me to pray for my family, these students, and the months that are to follow. I know what I am walking into and although I love these kids... it will be a long, hard fight.

¹⁸ praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end, keep alert with all perseverance...and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel.... that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak.

Donating information to follow...

Blue

Psalm 139

¹¹ If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
    and the light about me be night,”
¹² even the darkness is not dark to you;
    the night is bright as the day,
    for darkness is as light with you.

As a child I was afraid of everything. If I saw something about a plague on TV, I was convinced I had it.  I was afraid when I saw a "Dead End" sign driving down the street. I thought I was going to be dead at the end of that street. I was even afraid of water. The worst thing to me though was darkness. Any noise in the dark would send me running to my parents. I was always afraid.

Alas, I did have a saving grace and its name was Blue. Blue was my comfort blanket who, despite its name, had no blue on it. (I was obviously a weird child.)

It's interesting to think about how a simple blanket brought so much comfort to my childhood. It calmed every fear, stopped my tears, and soothed my anxieties. I love thinking back on that blanket. I love hearing stories from my mom about my obsession over Blue.

Good Ole Blue.

Last weekend I had the most wonderful time with some friends that visited from my church. We got to laugh, play games, sing karaoke and step away from the pressures and frustrations that we can feel while serving in Canaan. It was rejuvenating, reassuring, and restorative. They were my Blue.

To continue with my blanket analogy.
Have you ever been wrapped up so tight in your sheets in the middle of the night that it scares you a little because you feel like you can't get out?

No? Just me?

Well, that was the feeling that struck me the hardest saying goodbye to these dear friends. I wanted them to stay. I wanted to go with them. I felt so desperate to get free. Unlike being stuck in my sheet for a few minutes, this feeling went on for days and didn't stop until I woke up this morning. As I had to settle back into the norms of life here, I longed to be with Blue. I longed for those things and individuals that ease my fears and soothed my anxieties.

Laying in bed and looking up at my ceiling covered in cobwebs, I got to experience the peace from the ultimate comforter. It is not just found under my mosquito net in Haiti. It is everywhere.

"Praise you. Oh, praise you. You are never far from us. Even when we feel lost and cloaked in uncertainty, you are in the midst beside us. Extending your hand to us. Ready to take the lead. So through it all, it is well because I hold on to the hand of a King. I get to cling to victory with every step I take. Of what is there to be afraid?  Though I may be in the dark what a marvelous light I am running to!"

As an adult, my fears haven't really changed. My heart aches when I hear the media talk about brokenness around the world. The feeling of drowning in the waters of adulthood. The darkness of uncertainty often overwhelms me. But I have a perfect Blue.

Good ole Blue.

Psalm 18

²⁸ For it is you who light my lamp;
    the Lord my God lightens my darkness.

Psalm 119

¹⁰⁵ Your word is a lamp to my feet
    and a light to my path.

Unrequited

Unrequited love

One side takes and takes and takes. And takes some more. On the other,  is a choice to be love when someone is unable to accept it.

This is something I know well from my time at Canaan. Unrequited love should be a subtitle of ministry, especially when that ministry is concentrated on the children of abuse and neglect.

It has taught me that love is not only a choice but a gift to give when you may not get anything back but the insecurities and brokenness of another.

I have one student who my heart instantly cried out too. I knew there was an ache in him but didn't know from what. Over time, I learned that he was the product of abuse. My student was more than likely shamed by the abuser for the actions done to him. Just a child. Just a boy. He has kept on the shame even as he has come to a place like Canaan. A place of "liberation".

When he fails at something, I am to blame. The one whose love is unconditional is at fault.

Late last week, he didn't pass a test. His resentment or disappointment was placed on me. That night during homework help, he lingered around me. As he waited for me to turn toward him so that he could tell me he hates me, God gave me more insight about His love for us. His love of brokenness. At one of the last "I hate you"s of the night, I told him that I loved him. He repeated his sentiment towards me but I told him I didn't care. That no matter how many times he tells me he hates me, it won't change the fact that I can love him. That I want nothing more than to love him. He responded that he didn't want anyone to love him. I said it wasn't his choice. It was mine. I could choose to love him every day. 

Oh, how He loves us.

It's not that his words didn't sting. They did. Thinking back on them, they still do.  Unrequited love pricks your heart over and over again. But love is a choice. It is a choice that God has made since the beginning, to love for the sake of love. It is a choice to show gentleness and patience. Meekness. Joy in the face of shame.

That's the love that Jesus gives. I will fall short of showing love the way that He does but maybe that's to beat my flesh, to take my ego out of my work here so that I cannot boast in it.

If my student continues to tell me he hates me and I can keep my cool, it is definitely not on my own strength. I won't be able to boast at my own doing. It will have to be by grace alone. Grace in the form of love that is continually, eternally pouring over me.

It's taken a while to share this. The next day following this interaction, he apologized. Today, over a week late,  I got to celebrate with him for passing three difficult tests. I even got a big hug.

Unrequited love, sweet love.

1 Corinthians 13

13 If I speak in the tongues^[a] of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. ² If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. ³ If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast,^[b] but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Psalm 19

Psalm 19 

³ There is no speech, nor are there words,
    whose voice is not heard.
⁴ Their voice^[b] goes out through all the earth,
    and their words to the end of the world.
In them he has set a tent for the sun,
⁵     which comes out like a bridegroom leaving his chamber,
    and, like a strong man, runs its course with joy.

 As I sat in church yesterday, I longed to be taught. I longed to understand what the Creole being spoken meant. I felt lonely, frustrated, and a little angry that I was separated for my community. So, I started memorizing  the monthly verse my students have to memorize. I told them that if they had to memorize it then I should too. Sitting on my uncomfortable, rustic pew as the fans pushed hot hear around me, I started going over Psalm 19.

As I read Psalm 19 over and over again, overwhelming gratitude came over me and this response followed:

"Thank you for your word. Thank you for its infinite languages. There is no speech nor are there words whose voice cannot be heard.

Your word is Haitian. It is American. It is all. Perfectly. Sufficiently.

Thank you for your multicultural forgiveness. The power that it holds in every language. The freedom that is gives to every tongue. It is all. Perfectly. Sufficiently.

Your ear does not favor one over the other. It favors those that call upon you and your son.

Thank you, savior.

Mesi, sove."

Each week we pick a different word to teach our students. This week is optimistic: looking on the bright side.

It's ok to feel lonely, frustrated, and angry. Jesus felt those things too. But with the word of God we can see the bright side of things promised. We can be a tent for the sun, shine light and run our course with joy.

Matthew

Some part of me wanted to see the force of Matthew. We had prepared and planned and anxiously anticipated his arrival. On the night before he was suppose to arrive, I woke  up at every rustle of the trees or moan of the wind hitting our door. It was a restless night of sleep anticipating his strength that would bear down on us. I knew it iwa God who created the storm and it was His might that we would experience when Matthew arrived.

At first, I wrestled with relief at the impact we had and a little bit of disappoint for not having seen what we had prepared for. However, our preparation was not in vain. We could not point to it and say "we are safe, we have food, and we have water because of how we prepared". No, we did not redirect the storm's path and place the mountains and land perfectly around us to protect ourselves from its damaging rain and winds. We can't look back and say "it was because of us". To God be the glory.

Allow me to be a little vulnerable. There was something I wasn't prepared for. 

As I was getting ready for bed last night, I realized my fight against the storm was not yet over. The enemy was bearing down on me with all his might. I had just experienced God's protection and provision in a different way than ever before. Regardless, everything about me was being questioned and attacked. Fears, doubts, and insecurities weighed heavy and I felt the full impact of my brokenness. I couldn't do anything but fall to my face, cry, and pray. I thought of the story of Jacob wrestling with God and asked Him to help me wrestle with my brokenness. To help me understand my name in Him.

"Stand firm. You just witnessed something beautiful, My protection. Don't listen to what the enemy tells you. I am sovereign. Everything that brought you here is by My design. I am using it all to draw you deeper, to stand firm in your identity in Me. I want to give you a new name and let you own it so that others can be sure of Me. There is no sacrifice more pleasing than brokenness. Your full self.  Full of ache and longing.

I will mend your heart. I will shape it like mine. I will place desires in it to know who I am. Knowing the name and character of the great I AM will fill every crack in it. There will still be scars because My son has scars. On His wrists, ankles, and sides are reminders of the beautiful sacrifice. The cosmic wound is cosmic love that is sufficient for all brokenness. Your wounds share in his wounds.

Let it draw you in. The brokenness.

Reach out and touch his scars. Believe.

Reach out and let Him touch yours. Trust.

Your broken heart is the ultimate sacrifice. Hand it over."

And then I had the best night's sleep.