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.

Original Sin

You Must Be Like Children

By: Richard Rohr

Breathing Underwater & Radical Grace

Jesus said, "Unless you change and become like little children you will never enter the Kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 18:3).  You can't even recognize the Kingdom of heaven, He says, except through childlike eyes. I think a very legitimate interpretation of that is that all of us grew up in families where not all our needs were met-- families that carried degrees of darkness, and even abuse. Every one of us has been sinned against.

 That's really the doctrine of Original Sin: all of us carry the wound. We pass down that wound from father to child, from mother to child. Someday, each of us has to walk back through our family of origin to rename our fears and security needs, re-feel repressed emotions, re-own, relive and re-feel the things that we were never allowed to feel and never allowed to think. And that is, in truth, becoming like a child, because you feel like a damned fool when you do it. Yet without reliving and reclaiming the child's journey, you will nurse your wounded child forever.

Geez. This. Week.

As I get to know my students more, I see all the beautiful truths about them. They are fearfully and wonderfully made. They all have special gifts and talents. They have these silly sides and personalities that can make your day.

As I get to know my students more, I see the brokenness and effects of original sin. Their desire to get through things the easy way. To cheat, twist, and go against the rules that are set before to help them succeed. It's been maddening today as we have caught student after student being dishonest with their work. It's been maddening seeing this and knowing that they are only hurting themselves and their future. It's been maddening to see their potential go unreached.

The excerpt above came at a perfect time. These are kids that have been abused and neglected. These kids that are told they are not enough.  These kids are wrapped in original sin. These kids have eyes to see the kingdom of heaven.

Help me to have grace for your children. Help me to see your kingdom like that of a child. Help me to impart on them the importance of knowing you and not just knowing subjects. Heal our wounds and protect these kids from the strongholds that the enemy is trying to use and deceive them. Forgive me and give me grace.

Courageous

I had a rather humbling experience this week.

I was having issues with a student of mine who is normally kind, loving, and shines brightly.

Everyone has bad weeks. I know I do.

This week was particularly difficult for this student. I had found that some of her work was dishonestly done. In the midst of finding the correct punishment, I was being openly mocked, disrespected, and just felt like I was no longer wanted.

I have written about cultural fatigue and along with this kind of treatment I started to question why I was even here. The enemy had woven insecurities, exhaustion, and the circumstance I was facing to convince me that no one wanted me here. That I had left my friends, family, and comforts for nothing.

My fellow Haitian teacher noticed something different in me and came to confront what was going on. I didn't have to say anything but he spoke the truth and promise of hope in Christ.

He said,

Sometimes God brings you to places for reasons you do not understand. Sometimes He brings you to a place where you feel like you are not wanted. But take courage. He has brought you here. That's all that matters. Be courageous.

 I might not know exactly why I am here in moments like I had this week. But I will wait for the Lord to show me. If he doesn't, I will take courage and wait for the Lord.

Psalm 27: 14

Wait for the LORD;

be strong, and let your heart 

take courage,

wait for the lord.  

Grateful to say that I slept 11 hours last night and feel rejuvenated. Also, the discipline chosen will give many opportunities to work one on one with the student. Yesterday morning, this student even came straight to me so I could put my arms around her.

Hmmm, change in perspective.

Don't let the enemy speak lies into your circumstances. Don't let him rob you from a sweet embrace.

Be courageous.