Glimpse into a Support Raising Day.

I pick up the phone. Put it down again. Open Facebook, start scrolling - No. The little red 'x' flashes briefly as I shut the window. Make the phone call. I pick up the phone, open 'Contacts,' stare at the name.  My stomach clenches to contain the butterflies, fear prickling at the nape of my neck. Breathe. Deep breaths. Dear God... Prayer momentarily emboldens me and I press 'Call.' It rings once, I hold my breath. Twice. I berate myself for my fear, slipping into Spanish to shake the tension and refocus. Three times. Please go to voice mail. Please. Please. 

The outcome after this varies. If the call goes to voice mail, I breathe a sigh of relief, leave a brief message and wonder how many days I should wait before calling back. If the phone is answered, I try to sound confident and not fumble over my words as I ask if I could share with them the ministry I will be doing with Inner City Impact. The moment I end the call I dance around and praise God. I did it. I did my part, opened the door. The rest is easy: I love telling stories of my time with ICI and how I see God at work. After that it's all up to God, there's no need for me to be anxious about the result. I sit down again and look at my list. Do I have to make another phone call? Maybe I could eat lunch. They're probably busy anyway. But you don't know if you don't ask, don't make up excuses for them. I pick up the phone.

"What's the worst that can happen? They say 'No?'" Intellectually, I know that what happens doesn't matter, it shouldn't affect me. And honestly I really am fine when someone can't support me financially. I know God will provide in another way. And I totally understand if they are already committed to others and can't join my prayer team. 

So what do I fear? 

People's opinion. 

I desperately want to be of good repute. To be known as a responsible, mature woman in Christ who cares deeply about others. I fear the false assumption that I only care about the money, that I look at people as a commodity that will enable me to not work. "Don't you understand these are unstable times? How do you have the gall to ask me to support you, why don't you just get a job and do ministry on the side? What about unreached people groups and orphaned children in Africa, why are you working in the States?" These are the words I fear. I constantly remind myself I am inviting others to join in the ministry God clearly led me to, not burdening them. 

Paul boldly asked varying churches to send him and frequently commended those who had. The churches of Macedonia "gave beyond their means, begging us earnestly for the favor of taking part in the relief of the saints... As you [church of Corinth] excel in everything... see that you excel in this act of grace also." - 2 Corinthians 8. 

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. 

These words spoken through the prophet Isaiah whisper through my soul. I dismiss the lies of discouragement, whether they come from me or the enemy. And I continue in the path laid out before me, inviting others to be God's instruments in Chicago. 

I am compelled.

For Christ's love  compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all... that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again... God reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting men's sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. 2 Cor 5: 14-15,18-19.

These verses  aptly describe my own feelings.  I am compelled, something is driving me forward and I can do nothing less. If I have knowledge of the fear of the LORD, how can I not share it with others? 

The idea of reconciliation is exciting and awe-filled to me. Christ did not come just to help us escape judgment (just though judgment would be), upon receiving salvation we are not placed in a state of neutrality, but are brought into right relationship with God. What was irreparably broken has been overwhelmed by the blood of Christ. And, clothed in Christ Jesus, we stand before God - reconciled and confident (Heb. 10:19).

I look out into the world and see myriad broken relationships. Between friends, lovers, families. Between governments and their people, from nation to nation. All of these reflect the state of man's severed relationship with his God. This is so prevalent in Chicago. The murder count in January was 42. In a single month, a span of 31 days. This year I have felt overwhelmed by death, and long more deeply than ever for the return of my Lord. Come soon, Lord Jesus! I just want to go Home. But until that day, people still cry out, lash out, work out their wickedness and live out their broken relationship without God. I see young people, so many young people, angry, bitter, frightened, hurt, lonely. Trying to fix it, fill it, or make things right only makes things worse - drugs, violence, gangs, sex.  The hope, assurance and joy I have through Christ in a right standing with God - this must be shared. 

Death is a separation. And so, when we are spiritually dead, it is separation from God, a gap that we cannot even desire to cross without His leading. But He has given me life - union with Christ, reconciling me to himself. Those of us who live must no longer live for ourselves, but for him. And He has given us the ministry of reconciliation. I am compelled, controlled by Christ - I can do nothing less. I follow willingly, gladly, sometimes achingly. 

 I have so great a ministry, so great a message before me - God has directed me to share it alongside Inner City Impact with these broken urban youth. With so great a task before me, I can't be afraid to share it with other believers. Many are not able or led to devote the resources of time and presence, as He has called me to, but have other resources available to use in the ministry of reconciliation amidst the Chicago youth.  I can't be afraid to present this opportunity to others.

Can I?

Christ's love compels me.

This is why I go. Will you send me?

From MK to Missionary.

 I've always been a missionary. Or at least a missionary kid. When my parents stepped into missions, it became a family endeavor. We kids willingly took part, it was who we were. I space out my life by the two sides of missions - the "field" and "furlough." As a little girl  we visited many States-side churches. My sister and I were often models demonstrating Quichua dress, or helping volunteers dress up. I spoke a few Quichua greetings, recited John 3:16 in Spanish, and knew my parents' presentation by heart. People asked, "What's it like? Do they eat Mexican food? Say something in Spanish!" On the field, I patiently (most of the time) let dark, work-roughened hands stroke my hair and marvel at the long, fine, blond strands that were foreign to them. I picked up words here and there of the conversation, my limited Spanish and their blending of Spanish and Quichua inhibiting full comprehension. But with warm smiles and friendly hand shakes, clear understanding wasn't always important. For a shy girl, spending time with them was enough.

Kids from the prison ministry

As I grew older, I became more involved. No longer just the daughter who sat quietly in the background, participating when asked, I began to take part and help as I could. In Jr. High and High school I was involved in ministry in several different ways.

Translating at a church in Anguiñay

I know what it is to be the missionary. It means reaching out to people and loving them. It involves standing out and often alone. (But not completely alone, because family was always there). It involves telling people what God has done and pointing to Scripture and to Christ. It necessitates stepping up to lead when the ball is dropped, or reaching out to the quiet person in the corner, even though I want to be the quiet girl in the corner. I know how to be a missionary. Or at least, how to be part of a missionary family.

Family is a huge deal in Ecuadorian culture. Family is a huge deal in the life of an MK, as it is one of the few stable things in a transient world. So you can imagine how an MK who grew up in Ecuador feels as she steps out by herself into the life of missions work, into support raising. Alone. And as much as my friends, family, and those around me love, support, and encourage me, I enter into this venture alone. I ride the bus alone. I gather my courage to call someone alone. I meet with people alone, write thank yous alone. And I look into the next week, not knowing what I'm going to do, but knowing it will be alone.

Some girls from ICI

My inherent shyness, once thought conquered, comes rushing back. Last Sunday after church I stood fidgeting in the back, berating myself, "Go talk to someone. Anyone. Stop standing by yourself. A good missionary talks to people. Go talk to people." And I wonder, If I can't even initiate conversation and relationships in this setting, how do I think I'm going to do it with the girls at ICI? And yet somehow that seems much less daunting - I've always been better on the field in ministry than at "home."

Throughout my life, God has stripped away the things in which I placed my identity. At least five major changes in life left me groping for something secure. I now stand, stripped of my country, my family, and my school - alone. But not alone. Because each time something is stripped away, it causes me to lean more on God. And though it is painful, and sometimes I feel like Eustace as Aslan tore away the dragon scales and skin in C.S. Lewis' The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, as each layer is stripped away I know I become more of who He is shaping me to be. Each time, my flailing hand is grasped firmly by my faithful God. 

And so I have embarked on this journey out into the vast sea that is support raising. It's been four months. When I was stopping by familiar ports, staying near land, it was an adventure. But now that it is time to enter uncharted waters, the route is no longer clear. The ocean is boundless and structure-less, lacking landmarks to guide me. The Psalmist says, "I lift my eyes up to the mountains, where does my help come from?" In this mountain-less place, my eyes lift to the stars. As they do, I see that "The heavens declare the glory of God," and I remember where I am going. 

  You see, it was in the quiet of remembering to worship God for who His is that I was assured of going to Inner City Impact. It is in the quiet of sitting before God that I no longer fear. And it is in the quiet of gazing at God that I remember I am not alone.

Remember the raindrops? 

Grocery bag stockings.

The thick scent of the unwashed swept over me as she walked down the aisle saying, "Change to help with hygiene, so I can get a job?" She repeated this various times in a scratchy old voice, rustling a plastic bag to receive alms as her thin frame swayed to the rhythm of the train. The tan trench coat she wore was ripped all the way down the right side, her bare arm just moments before exposed to the fringed winter air. The dark skin was weathered and worn, like that the the Quichua women I had seen so often working in Andean fields, chapped by exposure to incessant, harsh winds. A fleece blanket, safety-pinned at the shoulder, attempted to give another layer of warmth, but failed to give proper coverage. Plastic bags peeped out of the worn black Crocs on her feet.
My heart wrenched within me as those on the train ignored her. I was guiltily warm in my heavy parka, tall fur-lined boots, fleece gloves and alpaca scarf. Should I give her my coat? Could I take her to a meal? Bring her home for a hot shower and warm bed? Did I have cash I could give her? Or was this all a ruse, did she really have more clothes to wear bundled in the old grocery bags that filled her folding cart? Maybe she dressed poorly on purpose to "sell" the homelessness. I had heard of people doing so. I averted my eyes as she walked by, tiredly pleading for others to care. Looking up after she passed, I briefly met the eyes of a smiling honey-blond man near my age, wrapped snugly in scarf and coat. Did his heart lurch at the sight of her, wishing to do something? Or did he look down on her, a dirty, smelly distraction on a cheerful Sunday morning outing? Why did no one else reach out to help her?
A small relief, the "Thank you" of her scratchy voice as someone behind me dropped spare change into her bag. "Dempster," rang out the automated voice as the train slowed to a stop. I stood and hurried to the door, wondering how I could be so cold-hearted. But what would my mother say if I gave away the coat she gave me? I couldn't exactly afford to buy another one. The scarf crocheted by my sister couldn't just be given away. Gloves I could easily replace - but by then I was  out on the platform heading to the stars, surrounded by chatting, laughing young people. Didn't I have a ten in my pocket? Why hadn't I given her that? How could I go about my day, sitting piously in church, when the woman on the train couldn't even stay warm?

I am already serving, already pouring out my life for others. Is that not enough? I grew up on the mission field; now, less than 6 months after graduating from Bible school I am raising support to work with inner city kids here in Chicago. How much more can I do? Do I pour out my every second, every breath into helping others? This is what my heart calls for, but I know from experience it leads to burn out. And I have seen the "help" that people give to those in need be detrimental in the long run. But couldn't I have done something? Should I volunteer somewhere? Carry around winter attire to give away? As a student, I walked by the YMCA and the gathering of the homeless on the railing more times than I can count. Sometimes I would smile and reply to their friendly comments, but often I would look straight ahead and rush by. Even now I often simply pass by the shaking cup or cardboard sign, the pleading mother or tired old man. I am ashamed.

So what can we, as followers of Christ called to care for those in need, do?

We can acknowledge them as people. Made in the image of God, precious in His sight. Look them in the eye and give them the dignity of recognition as such.
Remember that we can't help everyone. But be sensitive to the Spirit's leading, and be prepared to follow it. One blustery day in downtown Cincinnati I felt the persistent nudge to buy a cup of coffee for a man outside on the street bench. As he warmed his hands around the steaming Starbucks cup, I felt the pleasure of my Lord. We can't always do something, but we can be ready and willing. We can try to carry change, or a granola bar, or an apple to give away. Be willing to buy a meal occasionally. We needn't feel guilty for what God has given us, but we should never become callous to the needs of others. 

"Give me your eyes for just one second, give me your eyes so I can see everything that I keep missing. Give me your love for humanity. Give me your arms for the broken-hearted, the ones that are far beyond my reach." - Brandon Heath.

You Mustn't be Afraid to Dream a Little Bigger, Darling.

[a friend suggested writing about a quote, these words caught my attention:]

You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.

Dream a little bigger... this is something I indeed fear to do.
I have always been on the cautious side. As a little girl, I was afraid to go down big slides, and nearly refused to sled down a steep hill, not even enticed by a reward. It is much better to be safe. Instead of making friends with the neighborhood kids, I stayed inside and read. I hate going super fast on a bike, and am not a particular fan of roller coasters. I am cautious in friendships and relationships, especially after having been hurt.
Now, you have to understand, I never needed to thirst for adventure - there was plenty of it all around me. Growing up in South America and traveling constantly while visiting the States has given me plenty of variety and on-the-edge experiences. I have been eye level with a tarantula in my bedroom, felt the smooth cool touch of boa constrictors gliding around me, been in an earthquake, visited remote villages, been thrown from a horse, climbed a few mountains, driven on cliff-edge mountain roads - my life has not been boring. I yearn not for adventure, but for safety and security.
My aspirations for myself have not been big and grand. I don't need to be the next Deborah or Queen Esther. I don't need to march for women's rights and don't want to be at the forefront of a new movement. Yet I have always felt God had something in store for me, something He wanted me to do. I guess I figured it would be something small, something appropriately me-sized.

You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.

My sister has always been the dreamer. She dreams up plot lines and stories. She worried as she imagined horrible things that could happen while my parents were out. She dreams of being an accomplished author. She dreams of making a difference for foster kids and orphans. She dreams big.
The problem of dreaming big, is that as you fly sky high, soaring with your brilliant ideas, you risk falling and watching them all crumble.
Hence, I don't dream big. The risk is too real.

You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.

So for what do I aspire? Something simple. For most of my life, I believed it would be serving God in a setting I was comfortable in, preferably Ecuador.

And yet, I find myself preparing to work in an inner city ministry in Chicago.

A couple years ago as I sat in women's chapel at Moody listening to our speaker, something stirred inside me. I would love to make a difference, to share my passion, as she does. To help others catch a vision. To teach. Even hundreds of women. Wait - hold it. Slow down. Since when have I ever wanted to do something big? Since when have I ever wanted to be in front of people? Since when have I ever watched a speaker and thought "that could be me someday"? It's strange how God takes us as we are, and then molds and shapes us into who He wants us to be. I didn't want to go to Moody, but I went. I didn't want to be a Youth Ministry major, but I was. I didn't want to work in the inner city, but I did. And now I talk to people as I raise support for this ministry. Lots of people. Pretty soon, it will be lots of people I don't even know. At each step, God creates a love for what He has placed before me.

Is this shy, little Cristina, who hid in a corner with her nose in a book?

You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.

Sometimes, God gives people big dreams. Though He walks with them through bitter disappoints, He often helps fulfill them.
Other times, God has to lead people kicking and screaming to big dreams because they are too afraid to look that high. He has to shape them slowly and prepare them carefully, and lead them step by step. That's me. Are you sure, God? You want me to do what, God? You do know me, don't you?
I am slowly learning that the risks are often worth it. It is worth loving someone even though it hurts. It is worth trying to climb the mountain, even if I fail. It is worth trying to speak to people, even if I stammer. It is worth serving my God with my whole heart, even if the future is uncertain. His words echo through my mind: "Set your thoughts on things above..."

You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.

Sweeter than honey.

When I read God's Word, something stirs deep within my being. 

The words are sweet on my lips, warming my heart, flowing like music and poetry. My fingertips brush the page, tracing swirling patterns across the lines, lingering. This is my God. O, that all would know Him, would taste and see that my Lord is good! I wonder, do others treasure this as I do? Do my fellow brothers and sisters rest in the presence of their Lord? Are they moved by the sound of His words? Do they want to sing and dance and laugh with delight? Do they weep and tremble in sorrow and awe? 

Do you, beloved saints?

Or do you go about your lives, Christ carefully placed in the "Christian" corner of your thoughts, as you laugh at the cleverness of your wit, bemoan your circumstances, or drown your soul in your substance of choice? 

I, too, am so often distracted. I attempt to bury my fears and insecurities and sin and weariness in caffeine and sugar and fiction and people and busyness. I forget to turn to the words of my Lord, seeking Him for all I need. I am not on my own. I am not alone. 

He is waiting. Patient. Neglected. Forgiving. Calling out, whispering to us to slow down and remember. 

Remember.

Even as I settle down with this treasured Book, shameful of the days I have neglected it, my spirit stirs. I hurry on from chapter to chapter, I dwell for long moments on a single phrase; my soul has been starved and is eager to be revived. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly. Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the LORD has been good to you. Be still and know that He is God.

I want to weep for those who do not know this. I mourn for the believer who misses the depths available to him through the leading of the Spirit. I long more than ever for those who come to ICI to know this joy. In my mind's eye, I see the faces of the kids I know at Inner City Impact and long to impart this to them. I long for them to know Christ and Him crucified, that they might taste the richness and sweetness of His word. 

"These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Them them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the door-frames of your houses and on your gates." - Deuteronomy 6:6-9

Is His Word ever before you? Teach your heart to desire it!

Words of the Psalmist, chapter 119.
 "How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!" v103.
 "I long for your salvation, O LORD, and your law is my delight" v 174
 "I delight in your decrees; I will not neglect your word" v 16.
 "How I long for your precepts! Preserve my life in your righteousness." v40. 

A Blinking Mind, a Thankful Heart

I close my eyes for a brief moment as we taxi to the runway. It is somehow soothing to be on a plane. As the engines speed up and we take off, rising smoothly into the air, I turn to look out the window. I love to fly at night and see the city lights dwindling below. And I suddenly don't know where I am or where I am going. Not to or from Ecuador, is my first realization. Nor to or from Chicago, is my next wistful thought. Then... oh, yes. Denver. I'm looking at Denver. It seems my mind blinked and forgot I was leaving somewhere new.

     It's strange how one's upbringing affects one's life. I grew up traveling. And somehow traveling just feels right. My 6 hours in the bus wasn't all that bad. The 16 hour road trip was delightful. And my 2 hour flight is soothing. I am very much looking forward to being home and no longer a guest, yet I find a certain familiar thrill in traveling and a joy in seeing people and participating in their lives.
     I sit on a Southwest plane, surrounded by the warm rumbling of the engines and the soft murmuring of my fellow passengers, and I think on how I have been blessed recently. Blessed to witness the union of two dear friends before Christ. Blessed to reunite with friends of old. Blessed to make new friends, though they are scattered across the nation. Blessed to be able to share how God has led me to join in His work in Chicago, to see others catch this vision as He moves in their hearts. 

     This last blessing is especially appreciated. For sometimes, in brief moments of discouragement, I wonder if I am doing the right thing, if life wouldn't be easier some other way. And yet, as I perused the departure board before boarding my eye strayed to the word Chicago - and my heart leapt. I sighed, realizing that was not my destination. But that is where God has led my heart, and that is where I long to be. I miss talking with my Jr. High kids, teaching during Bible time, driving van route, serving with the other ICI missionaries, helping the kids think through different aspects of the gospel. I remember kneeling in the pine needles in the forested mountains of Ecuador and hearing my Lord say "Go." Just as Isaiah said, "Here am I, send me,"  I am ready. Just as Jeremiah cried out, "Your word is like a fire in my bones, I cannot keep it in,"  I am compelled. These assurances I remember when I lose sight of the why of support raising. And I remember what a privilege and blessing it is.
     As the plane begins its final descent, I am grateful that on top of the privilege of meeting with people and sharing the exciting way God is moving in Chicago, I get to travel. By plane, bus, car, and train. I get to see prairie dogs and windmills, the Rockies and corn fields, each with their own unique beauty. And I am presented over and over again with opportunities to praise my Lord. 

O LORD my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the works thy hands have made...
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God to thee,
How Great Thou Art!

Beautiful Colorado

So long, Moody, Hello...

Cool winds sweep strands of hair into my eyes as I blink in the bright sunlight. Moody bustles, nearly glowing with activity - students making their way to and from class or dinner, studying in the shade or basking in the late summer sun, employees quietly making sure everything flows as it should. A warm satisfaction and contentment stirs inside me as I survey this. The sounds of the city waft over me, muted in the cove created by Moody structures. Snippets of theological discussions float by, laughter drifts on the breeze.

I feared discontent on my arrival to Moody, feared a gut-wrenching longing to return to the life of a college student, a life that I loved. I was pleasantly surprised to find that not only was I not going through withdrawal, but I fondly enjoyed my visit, content with memories of the past and with my current place in life. Eager faces, tired shoulders, brisk strides - each pass by, mingling into a single entity that makes me smile. Yes, I was here, I lived this life, and it was life-changing. But now I have stepped toward something new.

So long, Moody, hello ICI.

God has clearly guided me to Inner City Impact. I am thrilled to join in ministry with them, to be part of the furthering of God's kingdom amidst the brokeness of the youth of inner city Chicago. When my internship at ICI ended with the close of summer 2011, I didn't want to leave. I felt as though I had just brushed the surface, had been given just a taste of what was possible for the kids and the community through Christ. In the fullness of his time, (which to me felt like finally!) God gave me the go-ahead to join the full-time missionary team as a Jr High Discipler this past summer. I am so excited to serve Him and make His name known in Logan Square!

I pray that they may become rooted and established in love, that they might have power together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, that they might know this love that surpasses knowledge, in order that they may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." ~ Ephesians 3:17-21

...Whose name is Jealous.

I am a Jealous God...

I never understood this. Isn't jealousy wrong? Why would something that is wrong for us be something that God claims as his name? I  came to understand that it meant He didn't want to share our attention, our worship. (Jealousy being different than envy, though we often use them interchangeably). But it still didn't sink in, it didn't change my view of Him.

But it dawned on me recently.

I can be a fairly jealous person. I am not proud of this. I felt jealous and territorial when my "brother floor" at Moody had girls from past floors come and sit with them.  I sometimes feel jealous when I am insecure in a friendship, afraid that they might like the other person better than me. And when a boy I like starts talking to another girl, I am sure she will win his attentions over me. This I must conquer - I don't always like to share the people on whom I feel I have a claim.

God does not want to share us. Unlike me, in my weak selfish claim on people, God has every right to demand our full attention - He formed us and He paid for us. So when we devote ourselves to other things or people, when we are distracted, by a job, the latest technology, a relationship, media - whatever - we are not giving God our undivided attention. He is not receiving our full worship and devotion. He is jealous for our attention, for us to look to Him and only to Him for joy, peace, satisfaction, provision, healing. He is jealous for us to seek the best in Him. He is jealous for us to give our all to Him. 

God's jealousy is different than ours. We often are jealous out of fear or weakness. And we rarely have the right to make such a claim on a person. Yet God is justly jealous - sometimes in anger, always in love - and He deserves our utmost. 

So when i choose to watch Star Trek over reading scripture and praying - God is jealous. 

When my thoughts are consumed with whichever young man that has caught my affections - God is jealous.

When I start to think hungrily of a job that would pay well, of gathering up riches and resources and establishing myself that I might have security and control in my life - God is jealous.

When I approach life seeking ways to make me happy - God is jealous.

I offend God. I deprive him of what is His. I tell Him He has to share me. 

Let this not be so.

Oh, that the Church would cease her obsession with petty distractions and seek His face! 

May our God whose name is Jealous have mercy on us.

Ex 20:5 "Do not make for yourself an idol... for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God

Ex 34: 14 "Do not worship any other god, for the LORD, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God.

Dt 4:24 "Be careful not to forget the covenant of the LORD your God that he made with you; do not make for yourselves an idol in the form of anything the LORD your God has forbidden. For the LORD your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God.

Dt 6:15 "Do not follow other gods, the gods of the peoples around you; for the LORD your God, who is among you, is a jealous God and his anger will burn against you, and he will destroy you from the face of the land..."

Dt 32:21 "I will hide my face from them," he said, "and see what their end will be; for they are a perverse generation, children who are unfaithful. They made me jealous by what is not god and angered me with their worthless idols. I will make them envious by those who are not a people; I will make them angry by a nation that has no understanding."

Jos 24:19 "We too will serve the LORD, because he is our God. Joshua said to the people, 'You are not able to serve the LORD. He is a holy God; he is a jealous God. He will not forgive your rebellion and your sins. If you forsake the LORD and serve foreign gods, he will turn and bring disaster on you'...But the people said to Joshua, 'No! We will serve the LORD."

Eze 16 - Israel, a woman God rescued, clothed, and lavished favor on, prostitutes herself to other nations and the gods of other nations, giving that which God provided her with to them. God responds in jealous anger.

Eze 36:6 "Therefore prophesy concerning the land of Israel and say to the mountains and hills, to the ravines and valleys: 'This is what the Sovereign LORD says: I speak in my jealous wrath because you have suffered the scorn of the nations. Therefore this is what the Sovereign LORD says: I swear with uplifted hand that the nation around you will also suffer scorn."  --This seems to be protective jealously directed at others - Do not harm my people, they are MINE - 

Joel 2:18 "Even now, declares the LORD, return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning... The the LORD will be jealous for his land and take pity on his people." -- again, protective jealousy, as in, leave them, they are mine - ?

Na 1:2 "The LORD is a jealous and avenging God; the LORD takes vengeance and is filled with wrath. The LORD takes vengeance on his foes and maintains his wrath against his enemies. The LORD is slow to anger and great in power; the LORD will not leave the guilty unpunished. His way is in the whirlwind and the storm, and clouds are the dust of his feet."

Zeph 3:8 "'But they were still eager to act corruptly in all they did. Therefore wait for me,' declares the LORD, 'for the day I will stand up to testify. I have decided to assemble the nations, to gather the kingdoms and to pour out my wrath on them - all my fierce anger. The whole world will be consumed by the fire of my jealous anger. Then will I purify the lips of the peoples, that all of them may call on the name of the LORD and serve him shoulder to shoulder.'"

Zec 1:14 "Then the angel who was speaking to me said, 'Proclaim this word: This is what the LORD Almighty says: 'I am very jealous for Jerusalem and Zion, but I am very angry with the nations that feel secure.''"

Zec 8:2 "Again the word of the LORD Almighty came to me. This is what the LORD Almighty says: "I am very jealous for Zion; I am burning with jealousy for her.""

2 Co 11: 2 "I am jealous for you with a godly jealousy. I promised you to one husband, to Christ, so that I might present you as a pure virgin to him. But I am afraid that just as Eve was deceived by the serpent's cunning, your minds may somehow be led astray from your sincere and pure devotion to Christ. For if someone comes to you and preaches a Jesus other than the Jesus we preached, or if you receive a different spirit from the one you received, or a different gospel from the one you accepted, you put up with it easily enough..." 

Frost.

         Two roads converged in a wood, and I...

Sat and pondered which one to take until the dry leaves rustled under my bent knees, wild grape vines twined around my calves, and silvery spider threads interlaced brown wisps of hair.  

Well, maybe I had only wondered what to do for a couple months; in the grand scope of life that isn't all that long.  

I felt like I was not accomplishing what I was supposed to this summer, not working hard enough, not seeing enough progress. Then again, sometimes my version of accomplishments isn't the only one. Just because my "To-do" list isn't all checked off doesn't mean that something positive hasn't happened. I have been able to help my family, though not always in the ways that I had planned. I have reconnected with them. And I have gotten to relax and slowly recuperate from the beating I gave my body over four years of lack of sleep.

God often has a different agenda, a different "list" than I do. I get so wrapped up in mine, I forget to look for His. When things don't go my way, I want to sit down and throw a hissy-fit, showing Him just how I feel about it. But at the end of it, I sheepishly look up at Him and feel foolish. I brush myself off, and stand "at attention," more willing to see things His way. 

I wrote (most of) the above several weeks ago, before I went to Ecuador. At that time, life still seemed like a plain white sheet of paper, my pen poised above it wondering "what should be done with this?" (Yes, pens do wonder things like that. You'd be surprised at all the thoughts of inanimate objects). I feel pages and pages beyond that point now, as if I am a whole new person with whole new color ink flowing across the paper. Part of the change came while in Ecuador, my homeland (see previous post). I wrote this while traveling:

As we drove through Latacunga I had to blink back tears. I swallowed the knot in my throat and refused to cry. There were so many changes. New buildings sprung up right and left, roads had been added or reconstructed. And people went on about their daily lives. I did not cry because it had changed, but rather because I had not been there to witness it. I am no longer part of that life, I can no longer slip back into the rhythm of my hometown. Everything was so familiar, so dear to me. I liked living in Latacunga, I liked being able to walk nearly anywhere in town, or take a cab for only a dollar. All the guards I knew at the prison have left. We didn't even go into the prison, or even the church. We saw Wendy, her cute little restaurant, and her cozy apartment just up the street. But we did not see anyone else. Maybe on the way back through. 

Though I miss Latacunga, I don't want to live there right now. I still want to be in Chicago. Not for my whole life, maybe not even for the next ten years. But for now. I thank God that he gives me the desire to do that which he has set before me. 

 I feel more confidence and joy than I can remember feeling in a long time. It is as though I clearly hear my God saying, "This is the way, walk in it." And so I step out onto that path, onto the road less traveled, the one I least expected to take. The pen is no longer poised, motionless, but scribbling furiously as a cohesive pattern begins to emerge. And that step, that first stroke, will make all the difference.

Burning lungs, burning heart.

 It is so easy to get distracted.

 I have filled my life with distractions until I nearly suffocated under their weight. I said I trusted God to show me where to walk, what the next step in life was - but I wouldn't sit quietly long enough to listen him. A small corner of my conscious prodded me to stop filling my life with small nothings, to remember my God and seek after him, but I often muffled it with thoughts of "not yet. soon. after I _____." read, watch this show, work, spend time with family, sleep. So many excuses. Sometimes I assuaged the guilt by opening my Bible and dispassionately reading a chapter or by shooting off a quick prayer. But I knew the time was coming when I must once again get serious, set my feet firmly on the path, and seek His face.

The time has come.

Being in Ecuador, though only for a short time, has stirred something inside me. Yesterday nearly everyone was leaving for the day, so I went over to El Refugio.

I went there often in my high school years, a retreat center previously run by some very good friends, set at the base of a great hill/mountain ridge. Trails climb up the incline through the trees to meet low and high ropes courses, a zip line, a campfire circle, zigzagging up, up, up the steep slopes. This was my goal, to hike up until I found the perfect spot to sit and pray. The yearning for communion with my God grew stronger the more I thought of it. So I ventured out, lungs burning, calves shaking, up, up, as I settled into a steady rhythm. I suddenly remembered why I liked mountain climbing. 

Alone, I felt no pressure to go faster than I felt I could, no guilt for holding others back. I enjoyed the steady rhythm: breathe in and step with my right foot, breathe out and step with left. Lizards scurried off the trail at my approach, a fox looked back at me and loped into the bushes. The sun shone brightly, sometimes boldly warming my back, sometimes friendlily peeking through speckled shadows of leaves. A strong breeze brought fresh air to cool me in my exertion. As I got higher I saw the red shingled roofs of the buildings of El Refugio dwindling below me. 

I found the perfect spot. The path leveled out and broadened to encompass a fire pit with benches around it overlooking a gorgeous vista. Pine needles cushioned the ground, an air of peace encompassed the shady clearing. Uncertain where to start, I opened to Isaiah 40, a favorite passage of mine. Completely isolated from listening ears, I felt comfortable reading aloud, feeling the passion of the prophet roll from my tongue and tighten my chest. I cried as the LORD lamented Israel's rejection of Him, and as He forgave them anyway. I followed Isaiah through chapter 53, another that touches my heart, reading and rereading, frequently copying verses into my journal. Then I knelt down and prayed. 

And in the stillness of my open soul, waiting before the LORD, I felt the certainty which I had sought for months - what to do next in life. And His peace and joy filled my being.

Our God is so good. Yet how often do we, His people, stop up our ears and close our eyes, persisting in giving our attention to useless things and then grumbling against God in our calamities? I ache to convey God's faithfulness and goodness and mercy, to show people their sin and God's redemption. I ache for those who are blind to it and have never tasted it. I ache for those who, like I, knew but have forgotten. 

We in our pride think it is all about us, about making ourselves happy. We often think God will make our lives go the way we want them to. We often think God loves us and saves us because we are special. But this is so wrong. He saves us for His sake. If we are special, it is because he has chosen us. 

I shouldn't seek God so He will give me something. Lately my focus has been on finding direction, not on being with  God. I should seek God because of who He is. I limit myself and spurn God when my focus is on my wants and needs and how God can give them to me. God has created me and redeemed me for His glory. May my life be ever for this end.

"I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist. Return to me, for I have redeemed you." Isaiah 44:22