Not Now

Today was Collins' first Christmas program. He had been practicing his Christmas songs for weeks and we were all excited for his debut of "Jingle Bell Rock". David, Harrison and I, along with other family members, slid into wooden church pews and could hardly sit still we were so excited. Collins and his class began coming down the small hallway to the side of the stage and, with tears in my eyes, I waved at him and admired his scrunched up nose smile.  He was precious, so proud of himself. An older group of students were to perform before him while he and his tiny classmates waited in the hall for their time. When the song began we could see his pouty lip all the way down the hall. Then the tears came. We watched the teacher try to console him, but it was in vain. The song finished and it was time for his class to perform, but Collins was too upset to proceed and came straight to our seat.  It was actually humorous. After 27 tissues and snot and consoling, he agreed to go to the stage for the last song, which he cried through. Later, when I asked Collins about what happened he said, "My teacher told me 'No' and I want to sing." Apparently he thought when the music started he was missing his cue to sing his songs and was offended when his teacher would not let him through.  We've been giggling about the scene all day.

With a little quiet space this afternoon after the "performance" I couldn't help but see a lesson for me in what Collins had experienced.  So many times I've thought "this is my time" or "God's going to make this happen for me". Jobs I wanted, opportunities, many things that did not come the way I asked for the them. Just like Collins did at his school today, I've had times where I focused on the now and heard "No" from God, when he was really speaking "Not now". In a recent message I heard from Steven Furtick he said, "Sometimes I need to focus on the battle God wants to win in me more than the battle I want him to win for me." While that quote can sting at a time when I am standing with my hand out to God, it is truth. My prayer is God will continue to use everyday moments to chip away the parts of me that are unlike Him and mold me closer to His image.

Your Spirit soars in me
To the highest heights
From where I'll not look back, No
I'll keep trusting you
From the land of the barren
We will cry out for rain
Melt our hearts God
I'll keep trusting You
For I know you are faithful, my God
My heart aches for you, my God
My soul waits for you, my God
I've come far to find You here
In this place will I draw near
--lyrics by Kim Walker-Smith

I need Africa more than Africa needs me

You may have heard the title before. Its a phrase that I have adopted from the Mocha Club- an organization commited to giving up the cost of a few mochas a month to support projects in Africa.

I am often reminded of how little the people of Africa (as a whole) have compared to Americans. Many experience levels of suffering that is impossible to describe until you have seen it for yourself, then when you see it, it is difficult to believe. One of the great impossibles is reconciling the joy they have with the suffering and difficulty they face. It is a joy that comes from somewhere deep, somewhere other than the framework I have experienced in life.

If you have never been to Africa you may have only seen the images on television, which many times depict sadness, depression, even misery. Prior to going to Africa I bought into that lie- that Africans were unhappy, discontent in some way with the place life had brought them. Reality is, in Africa I find a joy unmatched- a peacefulness to the trials and struggles- a place of family and fun, where people love to dance and sing. Where despair should thrive people laugh and play- children kick a soccer ball made from trash. In Africa they do not have reprieve from struggles by doing a "girls night" or getting a manicure- relationships and faith alone provide joy. Yet, more people in the world have cell phones than have toilets- many of whom are in Africa. 1 in 7 people do not have clean water in the world. The average total water use per day for 1 person in the United States is greater than 100 gallons. In Africa the average person struggles to find 5.

In my current reality I am stressed. I am quivering under the pressure of my responsibilities right now, but I know that my joy should have no regard for my circumstances. I'm ashamed at the lack of faith I have exhibited at times, but I also look forward to new beginnings and fresh starts. Its daunting. I'm uneasy with change and, it seems the older I get, more emotional over change and letting go; starting anew and letting little ones grow older. On the contrary the thought of freedom and exploration of the new is exciting, for a love a good challenge. My prayer is what I have learned in my head has a trickle-down effect to my heart. I do not want my desire for "the next thing" to determine my level of joy. I write this with tears forming at my eyes.

Hear me that I am not saying Africa does not need me, it does. It needs all of us. Mother Theresa once said, "We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean, but the ocean would be less because of that missing drop."  I've come to know that "I need Africa more than Africa needs me". Africa has taught me that the possessions in my hands is not as valuable as peace in my heart. Join me on this journey.

The Power of Saying Yes

Have you seen this photo? Likely you have as I have seen it on many social networking sites... It seems simple really, just jump over to that other circle! In reality, venturing beyond the cozy confines of the familiar requires overcoming the fear of the unknown- a fear that has often seized my heart. Last year I had the chance of a lifetime to get outside my comfort zone-- over 7,000 miles outside of it--when I said yes to go to South Africa on a mission trip. Though I have traveled outside the United States some, I hadn't done very much so since having two children, a husband and a full time job. Complacency was an easy fit.  This trip was also more daunting because it meant going into poor communities to meet people in dire need, some of whom were suffering. It meant traveling with some with whom I wasn't close, having little communication with family, and listening to stories of amazingly resilient people who stood fierce in the face of unfathomable hardship. It was an emotional roller coaster. It was life changing. 

Clearly, taking a ride like that is not for everyone, or maybe it is. But leaving your comfort zone doesn't have to mean doing something as drastic as journeying halfway around the world. It could be as simple as starting a new workout, giving more in offering, volunteering at the local shelter, lifting your hands in worship...  Or it could be something else like stepping out on that dream job you've always wanted, starting your own business or that small group you've been thinking about. All of these come with their own risks, but taking risks builds confidence and usually character. And, at the very least, it opens your eyes to new possibilities. 

Something amazing happened on my trip. I learned how adaptable I can be, that we need far less than we think to be happy, and small gestures of compassion have big payoffs--for the giver and receiver.  It was a perspective-sharpening experience that I'll cherish always. I'm so glad I said yes to Africa. 

I am hoping to return to South Africa in just two short months. Since I was there last the churches have grown, they've expanded one of the buildings and a small fundraiser I had in January helped them to begin their own garden to grow for a soup kitchen and for the locals to maintain. The whole teach a man to fish mantra... It's exciting to be a part of something bigger, something growing, something humane and beautiful. 

The question is: what will you say yes to?