Thanks for praying!

Thanks for praying! We are safely in the Amazon, and as you see, do have some limited access to internet. However it is veeery slow, so I can't post and update tons. Please continue to pray for health and safety while we are here. Tomorrow is our halfway mark, and then we have 2 weeks left before we are back in Lima. I'll try to write a little about what our daily life is like here in the jungle, but in the meantime, check out these articles about Caracas, Venezuela and please pray for that city and our friends that are working there.

Part 1: Caracas Slums
Part 2: Caracas Upperclass

Bring the Rain

Training ended more than a week ago, and my last days in Virginia were a whirlwind of packing, goodbyes, and last minute details. We still managed to carve out some sweet time with friends in the midst of that. All the young short-termers got together for a farewell celebration one evening, a fun time of snacks, silliness, and mustaches.

Yes, you read that right. Mustaches. 

But when the goofy pictures and joking subsided, we came together for a time of praise. We sang songs and lifted up prayers for the places and peoples around the world where we are going. It would have been a precious time under any circumstances, but it was all the more wonderful to me because it was storming. That may not sound especially remarkable given the bipolar nature of Virginia’s weather, and it’s not, so let me preface it with some background.

I love rain. Simple as that. Always have, always will. It’s a really convenient trait when you live in Florida, because lest you be deceived by our tourist-luring moniker, “The Sunshine State” gets a lot lot lot of rain. I really couldn’t tell you why I like the rain so much, but I love to play in it, listen to it, nap through it. I even have an entire playlist on my iPod of songs about rain. But perhaps the reason I like it so much is because it always reminds me of my heavenly Father, His power, His grace, and His faithfulness. One of my favorite hymns is “My Lord is Near Me All the Time”:

In the lightning flash across the sky, His mighty power I see,

And I know if He can reign on high, His light can shine on me.

I’ve seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder, and felt it in the rain;

My Lord is near me all the time, my Lord is near me all the time.

When the thunder shakes the mighty hills, and trembles every tree,

Then I know a God so great and strong, can surely harbor me.

I’ve seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder, and felt it in the rain;

My Lord is near me all the time, my Lord is near me all the time.

When refreshing showers cool the earth, and sweep across the sea,

Then His rainbow shines within my heart, His nearness comforts me.

I’ve seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder, and felt it in the rain;

My Lord is near me all the time, my Lord is near me all the time.

I could tell countless stories about how storms fill my heart with worship, but that night in Virginia reminded me of one in particular. As we sat there on the floor of the multipurpose room, the rain lashing the windows and providing the percussion to our songs, I closed my eyes and I was back in Haiti sitting on the floor of a house with a group of Americans just outside of Port-au-Prince.  The power and generator were both out and a Haitian storm was blowing down from the mountains with near hurricane ferocity.  We lifted up our voices in the dimness, competing to be heard over the wind and rain, singing song after song as darkness settled and the storm began to abate. We cried out “How Great is our God,” and He answered back with blinding lightning.

“I know that the Lord is great, that our Lord is greater than all gods. The Lord does whatever pleases him, in the heavens and on the earth, in the seas and all their depths. He makes clouds rise from the ends of the earth; he sends lightning with the rain and brings out the wind from his storehouses.” –Psalm 135:5-7

With each thunder roll I felt His perfect peace and contentment; in the midst of the storm I was right where I was supposed to be. I was overwhelmed by His faithfulness that night, and I hadn’t even seen the way God would use that time in Haiti to direct me to this new adventure with Him.

Rain fight in Haiti!

“Remember your covenant with us and do not break it. Do any of the worthless idols of the nations bring rain? Do the skies themselves send down showers? No, it is you, O Lord our God. Therefore our hope is in you, for you are the one who does all this.” – Jeremiah 14:21-22

A year later, sitting in Virginia with the rain pouring down, I was once again overcome by His faithfulness. To go into all the little ways God wove things together to bring me to this specific place would take too long, so perhaps I’ll do another post on that some day. But suffice it to say that when I look back over the last year plus I can’t help but see His fingerprints on so many things. My heart was overflowing with thankfulness.

“For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations.” –Psalm 100:5

It was hard to leave and it is hard to be home. Coming back I am reminded about how much I love my life here. I am surrounded by people who love me and care about me. I have wonderful family and friends. An awesome church. Lazy sundrenched beach days. Barbeque. Chickfila. Friday night Bible study. Life is good. Life is comfortable. Life is easy. And in three weeks that’ll change. The two years that seemed like no big deal are beginning to feel like an eternity. The confidence and resolve that came so easily months ago are beginning to wear thin. Normally unemotional, I now find myself on the verge of tears at least once a day whenever I am reminded that I’m really only here visiting. I want to ask if I’m making the right decision, but I can’t even get the question out. I know I am. And in some ways, knowing that is even harder. I’ve always loved the quote by C.S. Lewis, “We’re not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.” And there’s the rub. Following God doesn’t keep us from pain, sometimes it leads us straight to it. His faithfulness doesn’t always protect us from hurt, but in our hurt He is always faithful. His unfailing love is our comfort (Psalm 119:76). We have His promise that He will not leave us or forsake us. He will carry us through, and comfort us when we hurt. “I, even I, am he who comforts you.” – Isaiah 51:12

When I am weak, He is faithful.

When I hurt, He is faithful.

When I doubt, He is faithful.

When I cry out, He is faithful.

When I am brokenhearted, He is faithful.

He is faithful. Praise Jesus, He is faithful! 

 And so when my strength is gone and my confidence is weak, I can walk on trusting in the faithfulness of my Lord that pours out like rain. You could blame a low pressure system for the week of rain that followed me down from Virginia and kept me from the beach during my first days home, but I prefer to think of it as God reminding me that He is near, and He is faithful. And maybe, He’s helping me get my fill of percipitation before I move to Lima, a coastal desert where it rarely rains. I’m not excited about living in a place without storms, but although I won’t have my physical reminder of God’s faithfulness, I know His fidelity remains the same.

“Where can I go from your Sprit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.” –Psalm 139:7-10

*Prayer requests*: Thank you for your prayers and encouragement as I wrap up things in the states. Less than three weeks until Costa Rica! Please lift up Steven, Kattie and baby Evelyn who arrived in Lima today. Too many months until I see them again, but can’t wait to hear about their first days in our new home town.

*Check out the song “You Were There” by Avalon, on the music player at the bottom of the page.* 

Time Change --> Change Time?

As you’ve probably noticed, Daylight Savings Time started Sunday. If you haven’t noticed, well…that’s probably why you’ve been late to everything this week. I’ll be honest, I needed Jesus to sanctify my thoughts on Monday morning when my alarms  (I have to use 2 to 3 set at intervals to make sure I actually get up) were going off in the pre-dawn darkness.  I’m not a big fan of waking up even on the best day, and I’ve never been a morning person. At youth group camp I used to make a sign for my door with Proverbs 27:14:

“He who blesses his friend with a loud voice early in the morning, it will be reckoned a curse to him.”

The whole “spring forward” thing seems particularly cruel 7 weeks into training.  It led to me posting a Facebook status that *may* have mentioned me wanting to roundhouse kick Daylight Savings Time in the face. But I realized later that I probably need to apologize for that statement. The truth is, I love Daylight Savings Time. It means the sun isn’t blinding me at 6:30am when I’m trying to sleep in on the weekend. It means that it’s not almost dark when I get off of work at 5pm. It means that long hot summer days are just around the corner. And when it ends in the fall, I always mourn its passing. But therein lies the rub: I love Daylight Savings Time, but I hate the actual time change.

While the longer afternoons are a wonderful result, the time change itself is a painful and unpleasant process that leaves me wishing they would go ahead and invent intravenous coffee. And that reminded me that a lot of changes in life are like that. The new thing may be wonderful and desired, but that doesn’t mean the change will be painless. I remembered a quote I copied into my journal four years ago as I prepared to move to France:

“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.” – Anatole France

Training ends next week, and it’s only about six weeks until I’ll be living in Costa Rica. That move will bring a lot of change:

 New job.

      New residence. 

            New language. 

                  New people. 

                        New country. 

                              New continent.

                                    New challenges.

New normal.

That’s a whole lot of new. And those are only the big things! Basically, nearly every single thing in my life is going to be turned upside down in one 3-hour flight to San Jose. And there’s a lot of excitement in that. I’m thrilled with my job and am constantly in disbelief that I actually get paid to do this. I’m looking forward to new adventures and challenges. I love the opportunity to learn about new cultures and places.  But…it still hurts. Every new beginning is the end of another, and saying yes to something means saying no to something else. It’s always a trade-off.

I know eventually I’ll settle into a new life in South America. I remember when it happened in Paris. It wasn’t like someone flipped a switch, but it was a gradual process until one day I realized that I felt at home there. I had my places, my activities, my people, my routine- all the trappings of normal life. But long before that point there were a lot of goodbyes, a lot of frustration, a lot of anxiety, and a LOT of change, and it wasn’t always fun. But I eventually got there. And I will again.

"I'm all alone, there's nobody here besiiiiiide me..."

Marilyn Ferguson writes, “It’s not so much that we’re afraid of change or so in love with the old ways, but it’s that place in between that we fear. It’s like being between trapezes. It’s Linus when his blanket is in the dryer; there’s nothing to hold on to.”

I like that description and there’s much truth to it, but it isn’t the whole story. We do have something to hold onto, one thing that never changes. Hebrews 13:8 says, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and today, and forever.” Isn’t that incredible? Years ago, while struggling through a season where life seemed to be just one painful change after another, the truth of that verse poured over my heart like a soothing balm and I have claimed it ever since. To me it is an incredible comfort to serve a God that doesn’t change and who isn’t altered by the tumult and trials of this life. When nothing else seems steady, He is my rock and my firm foundation. He was and is and is to come. I can rest easy knowing He is never caught off guard. “The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold” (Psalm 18:2). Thank you, Jesus!

And so I can face the sea of changes looming ahead with the sure knowledge that Jesus Christ is the firm rock to which I can cling. 

With Jesus, changes are "no prob-llama." (And yes, I want this shirt.)

*Prayer requests: Safe travels as everyone prepares to leave training next week. Smooth and quick resolutions for those waiting on visas. Comfort and peace as many head home for last goodbyes and prepare to deal with lots of changes.  

P.S. We learned recently about using Bible storying in illiterate places or cultures where stories are highly prized. We practiced some in small groups but I think we could all learn a thing or two from this little girl's telling of the story of Jonah. She's 6 and not reading. I'm impressed!

The Peruvian Dream

Hola mi amigos! Are you impressed by my Spanish skills yet? Yeah, me neither, but I’ll have plenty of time to focus on that when I get to Costa Rica. Speaking of which, last week was an exciting time because I finally have a confirmed ticket south in April! I’m not saying it has really sunk in yet, but that certainly makes it a bit more real.  And me being the logistics worrier that I am, it’s relieving to have that first step finally pinned down. I feel like I finally have permission to start getting excited. Of course, I still try to remind myself to hold it all in an open hand. You never know when God’s plans may go in a different direction than what you expect, so I try to keep myself clinging only to Him and not my plans. It’s not always an easy thing for a control freak. 

We have about 2 weeks of training time left here for the group as a whole, and a little longer for us media folk. People are reacting to the imminent conclusion of training in various ways, although almost everyone seems to be getting a bit antsy.

Last week we spent the time split up so we could focus just on the regions where we will be working. It was exciting to talk more specifically about Latin America and life and culture there. We had an assignment to research the countries where we are moving to present to the group, so those of us heading to Peru were able to work on our first “team” project. :-) Conveniently I already own almost every guidebook about Peru thanks to my own compulsive book buying and the thoughtful gifts of various friends: 

This was my Christmas present from Cat. Yes, that is a box full of lima beans. Get it? Lima beans… Lima, Peru…  

Yes, yes. I know. Pretty sophisticated humor around here.

Anyway, I enjoyed learning about my future home, so I thought I might share some quick facts.  Peru has a population of 29 million, more than half of whom live in coastal areas. In 2007, 75% lived in urban areas, and 25% lived in rural areas. Lima, founded by Pizarro in 1535, is home to 8 million just in the city center, but its metropolitan area encompasses 1,032 square miles. Peru has a clear-cut class structure with indigenous peoples at the bottom, and the descendants of the Spanish at the top. The rich are very rich, and the poor are very poor. A middle class is just beginning to evolve, but almost half the population is indigenous and poor. Corruption tops the list in polls of what they are most ashamed of in their country, with poverty coming in fourth or fifth. After Spanish, many speak Quechua, although Aymara is spoken near Lake Titicaca and there are different languages in the Amazon. In Lima, Mestizos are the largest population group, followed by European Peruvians, those of Amerindian descent, as well as Afro-Peruvians. And interestingly Lima has the largest ethnic Chinese community in Latin America (read: tasty Asian food in Lima = win!).

The country is estimated to be 81% Catholic and 12% Evangelical, with a mix of other beliefs. During our research, however, we found conclusive evidence that Jesus himself was actually Peruvian. May I submit for your study Marcos Zapata’s “Last Supper” which depicts Christ and his disciples enjoying a typically Peruvian repast of cuy (guinea pig) and chicha (a fermented corn drink):

Is guinea pig kosher? I mean, I know it has the word “pig” in it its name, but it’s basically an overgrown hamster.

If that’s not contextualization, I don’t know what is! I am looking forward to experiencing some cuy first hand, though. And I’m not the only one. Apparently the Peruvian culture is quite the draw for Americans. Just check out this video:

Heheh! I'm taking their advice and plan to get to Peru just as soon as they'll let me. Yet, while my own Peruvian dream is alive and well, that doesn’t mean I’ve given up on America. This Saturday I had a chance to spend the day up in D.C. with a couple of friends. Despite the traffic and negative politics, being there still makes me proud to be an American. We didn’t have enough time to hit all of my favorite places in the city, but it doesn’t matter where you go, you’re reminded of our history. 

One of my favorite places in D.C.
I'll always remember a magazine photo of Arlington that my Grandpa had. He, a WWII vet, had written on the back,
"The price of freedom is seen here."

Not all of it is pretty, (something we would do well to remember when we deal with other struggling countries) but it is part of the fabric of our country and it is our heritage. Washington, D.C. is a paradoxically inspiring and terrifying place: on one hand you are filled with pride as you are reminded of some of America’s finest moments, and then you turn around to find a grown American searching the last page of the Constitution for the famous “John Hancock” signature- not really something that inspires confidence in the next generation of American leadership. (If you're scratching your head, John Hancock's flamboyant autograph is on the Declaration of Independence. I promise not to tell anyone you if you didn't know that.) But no matter what, I’m proud to be an American.

 I've had some friends who felt living overseas increased their distaste of American life.  For them, seeing how people live life around the world highlighted everything wrong with America. For me, however, I've always found it to make me more appreciative of America, and living as part of another culture has given me increased gratitude for the privilege of being American. 

It is easy to whine about our democratically elected government that wastes our tax money, and the financial policies that led to a recession, but let us never forget that at our worst, we are still blessed beyond the wildest dreams of most of the world. To keep things in perspective, worldwide more than 1 billion people live on less than $1 a day, and 1/3 of the world's children live in what is classified as "extreme" poverty. I was born into a comfortable family in a rich nation, and I have taken that for granted for most of my life. I don't know why, in His sovereignty, God allowed me to be born to such privilege, but I do know that it carries with it a responsibility: we are blessed so that we may bless others.  

Parting thought:

A friend "blessed" me with this cartoon last week (Thanks, Jason!). Very appropriate for a week where I studied Peru and saw Old Glory in person. Plus there's a Frenchie shout-out in there as well! 

(The French national anthem "La Marseillaise" is about killing Prussians.
I can see why Bucky likes it.)

Is the Glass Half Full?

Today is *roughly* the halfway point of my time here in Virginia. February 24^th marks one month since I left Florida, and about a month until I return.  It’s hard to believe we only have a few weeks of training left, but at the same time, it has been a loooong month.  Many here have compared it to drinking out of a fire hose, which is a good analogy, if a bit prosaic.  I prefer to think of it as trying to sip out of Niagra falls with a crazy straw: you’re a lot closer to drowning than you are to getting a refreshing drink.

crazy straws = crazy awesome

We have sessions on all sorts of interesting topics taught by experts in their fields, but each one could probably be a semester-long class. We, however, get the information in somewhere between 2 hours and 2 days, depending on the topic.  I really wish I could retain more of what I’m learning because so much of it is valuable. But instead, I usually end up just feeling overwhelmed and mentally fatigued. 

The days seem to pass in one long continuous blur. Right now we begin at 8am with a morning study and worship time with the people in our small groups.  9am our sessions begin and run until noon. We eat lunch in the cafeteria and are back in sessions at 1pm. Depending on the day and topic and what else is on the schedule we finish between 3 and 5pm.  We have quite a bit of “free” time in the evenings, but you can imagine that is often a misnomer. There are a million details of travel arrangements, paperwork, reading assignments, and the like to occupy any time that isn’t pre-scheduled.

Now before you think that we’re enduring some horrible form of mental waterboarding, let me assure you that we do have fun, too.  Some people started a volleyball league, when it’s nice out we can get a game of Ultimate Frisbee going, and there are always people around if you are bored and want to get a game or conversation going.  Getting to know the others and hear their stories and learn about their areas of service is one of my favorite things. I especially love the people in my small group who will all be serving in South America.  I’m not a morning person but getting to start my day out spending time with them makes me not dread getting up so early. (They also have some pretty awesome kids who provide us with a lot of entertainment.)

I make occasional field trips into the local town for necessary errands, but also to grab a Starbucks or something other than cafeteria food for a treat.  They feed us well here, but the buffet style lends itself to overeating and the cooking staff is very um… creative? yes, creative is a good word… at reusing whatever doesn’t get finished off. Plus, they serve dinner at 5pm and my body is not accustomed to the early bird special, so sometimes you just need to escape!

The half way point means that most of the novelty and initial excitement has worn off for many people.  Reality is beginning to hit home, and doubts and questions that were easily brushed off before are now creeping back in, especially with our recent focus on security and persecution.  There are certainly days when I’ve sat there wondering why the organization picked me.  When you stand in the shadow of giants of the faith, hearing of their sacrifices and the great things God accomplished through them, it is easy to feel out of place. Surely I don’t belong here. I’ve done so many things that didn’t honor God. I still have so far to go and so much to learn. There must be someone else who is bolder, holier, more compassionate?

Yet, here I am.

And I know it isn’t a mistake. When I am tempted to question this decision, I remember the faithfulness of the One who brought me here. I look back and see His fingerprints on the circumstances and opportunities that led to this place.  He has led me faithfully and He asks that I follow Him in the same way.

We are tired, stressed, and overwhelmed at the magnitude of the undertaking before us, so it would be easy to get discouraged at this stage.  But when I read Psalm 46:10 the other day I read it from a new perspective. “Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” I had always focused on the first part. We hear it quoted all the time and it’s wonderful. The second portion is often overlooked, but I love what it says! “I WILL be exalted among the nations. I WILL be exalted in the earth.” There is no question there. It’s a fact. God said it, so you can consider that signed, sealed, and delivered. He’s not waiting on us to get there. He allows us the privilege of being part of His work, but His glory isn’t dependent on my working and striving. One way or another God will be glorified and exalted among the nations. Isn’t that an awesome promise? We can be still and rest in that assurance, in that peace that comes from confidence in God. 

We may be halfway, but the glass is clearly more than half full. 

My metaphorical glass is filled with real sugar Dr. Pepper.

*And in case you’ve had a long week too and need a pick-me-up, check out this awesome story about a high school football game in Texas. You can't watch it and not smile!

And miles to go before I sleep...

Training started yesterday and I realized quickly that it has been quite a while since I was last in school.  My sitting stamina and auditory attention span are pretty weak, and sitting in sessions all day long is fairly fatiguing.  Dinner is at 5pm every day and by about 6:30 it feels like it should be time for bed, the result of sedentary days and information overload.  The start of a new adventure sounds exciting, but while there is an element of that, there is also the typical paperwork and housekeeping details that are necessary in most organizations.  Fortunately there is an endless supply of coffee in every building.  There is also an impressive variety of flavored creamers available, of which I am a big fan.  Much of life at training is geared toward weaning us off of our American addictions. TV, soda, WiFi, cheeseburgers, chocolate, etc. are all limited or nonexistent on campus, so it would seem reasonable to think coffee supplies might be too.  But apparently the leadership is wise enough not to extend austerity measures to people’s coffee. I have to wonder if they tried in the past only to find that trying to train people who are asleep, or cranky from caffeine withdrawals, is not very effective? Whatever the reason, yay for easy access to hazelnut flavored creamer! 

We had a steady cold drizzle all day yesterday- what I call Paris weather.  While I enjoyed pretending I was back in my favorite city, I was even more excited when the rain changed into snow after dinner! Remember me talking about my list of things I hate? Well I have a much longer list of things I love, and snow is high on that one.  I like to think that maybe the snow was God’s offering to offset those hated goodbyes.  But if He had really wanted to do that it would have snowed a couple of feet!  As it was, it only snowed an inch or so but it was nice big clumps of fluffy flakes falling quickly through the darkness, and this Florida girl will take whatever she can get.  No one else seemed quite as thrilled as I was, so I bundled up and headed out to wander about campus and enjoy my treat.  I walked away from the buildings, out into the edge of the woods by the frozen pond.  Standing there in the blackness listening to a stream rushing somewhere nearby and watching the trees fill up with snow, I enjoyed the peacefulness that comes with a snowfall and tried to clear my mind of the many stresses and anxieties that have burdened it of late.  Snow is magical at any time, but there is an added mysterious beauty of empty snowy places at night. 

There are a lot of places where the Bible talks about snow.  It references the storehouses of snow and talks about God spreading the snow out like wool.  But probably the most precious imagery I was reminded of is from Psalm 51:7, “Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.” That came to me as I stood there watching the snow cover the black trees so I looked up the rest of the passage later.  Verses 8-12 are as follows: “Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice. Hide your face from my sins and blot out all my iniquity. Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.” A great passage at any time, but particularly appropriate at this point.  It is easy to get overwhelmed if you stop to think about the magnitude of this undertaking and the many challenges that lie ahead.  So I am making that my prayer, for a renewed steadfast spirit, a clean heart, joy, and a willing spirit to sustain me. 

While I walked in the snow last night, something else remained stuck in my brain courtesy of my high school English teacher.  Lines from Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” kept rolling through my head.  So, Mr. Rohol, congratulations are in order. Seven years later I still remember what you taught me. You win. And, just in case you want to feel really proud, I did quote your favorite line by Polonius from Hamlet at dinner yesterday: “Oh, I am slain!” I think that deserves a cookie, but if you’re not convinced I’ll try to work in a Great Gatsby reference sometime in the next day or two.

And now, for your literary pleasure:

STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING

BY ROBERT FROST

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

*The snowy woods painting at the top is by a new favorite artist of mine, Leonid Afremov. A friend here introduced me to his work and I'm sold. He paints fall, rain, dancers, sail boats, and European cities, which are all favorite topics of mine, and he does it with an impressionist style with remarkable colors. Check out some of his other stuff here.