Today is day three of no hot water and I'm getting stinky. I realized this morning as I was reading my bible that more than my outside body feeling the stink of no shower for 3 days... my heart was the one that seemed dirtier. I sit here amazed at how far gone my perspective on life has become. This attitude of entitlement is all-consuming, and when I don't get what I think I am due... my heart gets real stinky. It's interesting that the things that I have had all my life (showers, shelter, clothes... nice, cute, appropriately sized clothes) somehow seem mandatory and flat-out deserved. It is ugly, and He took my water to show me just how dirty my heart really is.
God has been stretching us in ways we have never known... and I'm thankful on this morning that He has pulled back another layer of my heart by taking away a simple luxury like hot water. When I was in Kenya, all the believers in our church came from the slum directly behind the church building. They all bathed out of buckets with soap and cold water outside of their 12'x12' homes made out of concrete slabs and corrugated metal walls. To this day I have never seen a clearer, more inspiring picture of hearts so in love with God and so confident in His sufficiency. So many people here came from camp-life and had to be taught how a shower works... and I bet on this morning they are not griping about being unable to bathe. They are adjusting and they are just getting on with the show. I am writing a blog about it. Oh Lord... clean my stinky, stinky heart.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Community... a novel idea
I am amidst a revolutionary idea... I hope you are sitting down for this one. Neighbors!! I mean the kind you (dare I say it)... TALK TO! Like.... every day!! I knew it was a lot, I hope you are okay!
The moment I drive up, whether I have groceries or just my normal load of two babies... I'm greeted nine times out of ten with eager helpers of all ages and ethnic groups. When someone sees Levi struggling in his walk to the apartment, he just gets scooped up and taken into my house. If we wander around the complex I can only get as far as one unit away before an hour has passed and it's time to eat dinner. I'm thinking of driving to the opposite side of the buildings and then walking around so I can visit with the other half of the residents here! It is a joke of course but only to illustrate how refreshingly un-American life is here. People make people the priority. I've never seen this in action, and it is a beautiful, infectious habit.
This idea just came to me so I hope it makes sense... living here makes me feel like I'm at a giant family reunion where I don't know anyone but somehow I know instinctively that we have a connection and a certain level of trust that wasn't really earned. What is that? Ahhhh... community. Selflessness. Looking out for the group. Ya know... how the rest of the world does life. I like it. I like it a lot.
The moment I drive up, whether I have groceries or just my normal load of two babies... I'm greeted nine times out of ten with eager helpers of all ages and ethnic groups. When someone sees Levi struggling in his walk to the apartment, he just gets scooped up and taken into my house. If we wander around the complex I can only get as far as one unit away before an hour has passed and it's time to eat dinner. I'm thinking of driving to the opposite side of the buildings and then walking around so I can visit with the other half of the residents here! It is a joke of course but only to illustrate how refreshingly un-American life is here. People make people the priority. I've never seen this in action, and it is a beautiful, infectious habit.
This idea just came to me so I hope it makes sense... living here makes me feel like I'm at a giant family reunion where I don't know anyone but somehow I know instinctively that we have a connection and a certain level of trust that wasn't really earned. What is that? Ahhhh... community. Selflessness. Looking out for the group. Ya know... how the rest of the world does life. I like it. I like it a lot.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
This land was made for you and me
Ever wonder what it would be like to be torn from your home and forced to retreat to a border country in order to remain alive?? Your house and all of your possessions have been burned to the ground... family members and friends have been killed. Not only is your home no longer an option, but your very country is now a hostile place to you and it is with great urgency that you get off of it's ground. It's so far from reality for us that it seems more fitting in a movie. Yet this is life for millions. (Hey, on the movie note... watch Rambo (the one made in 2008). Strong language, but a very real picture of the true story happening TODAY in Burma).
Tonight at midnight we will be receiving a family that fled Burma and has been living in a refugee camp on the Burma/Thailand border. After they land, Ledi, a Congolese case worker will greet them and bring them to their new home at Serrano Village. She will show them how the showers work, how to use the dish soap, how to use the toilet... that they each have a bed to sleep in. Then, around 2 or 3 a.m., she will leave and they will be left alone in this strange place to begin picking up the pieces of their shattered lives.
If you have ever been overseas and plopped right in the middle of a foreign land, you know the unnerving feeling of having all of your comforts and abilities to navigate stripped away. In many cases, English is spoken in most airports and large cities in the world. Sadly for our new neighbors, they have no English skills. Imagine the shock -- liken it to being dropped into Beijing. You cannot read the signs, ask anyone for help... you don't even know how to buy groceries!! The result is a group of people that are accustomed to community and using their hands to make a living now trapped by fear inside of an apartment week in and week out. The mental and emotional impact in the days, weeks and months ahead in the lives of each new arrival will bring them just short of insane. I'm not exaggerating... many refugees struggle with alcoholism and suicide as a numbing alternative to their new reality.
So what does all of this mean for us? I suppose one thing we can all do is search our hearts regarding our feelings toward "immigrants" or people who now call America home for whatever reason. It is true that many come in search for a better life... but some come in search of keeping life. "This land is your land, this land is my land... this land was made for you and me" -- can you say in your heart that you would have a smile on your face that stretched down to your heart if you sang this to an Asian person who didn't speak a word of English? And as far as you could tell didn't have any drive to learn it?
The truth is that at some point all of our families came here to improve the future for the generations to come. Yet because many of us feel so American, we can quickly look at people from other nations and feel a sense of selfishness and dominion that clouds our ability to feel compassion and simple kindness. Have you ever pondered that you could have been born into a war-torn village in the middle of Iraq? Or even more controversial... in the middle of a crime-ridden, disease-infested, gang-dominated colonia in Mexico? As a mother, I would be lying if I said I wouldn't do anything in my power, including breaking the law, to move my family to a place with safe neighborhoods where my kids could walk to school without fear of being killed. We can forget that in the middle of these political arguments lie people. People. People with hopes and dreams. Not of a nice retirement or good colleges for their kids, but survival. Just survival. Let us search our hearts when we see these "intruders" in our country... and remember it isn't our country, it's God's, and He gives and takes away. Let us be thankful that He has chosen at this time to allow us to share this land with whomever He allows to enter in... and maybe, just maybe... He brought them here so they might know of the One who has preserved their lives and desires to give them life and give it more abundantly through faith in Him.
Tonight at midnight we will be receiving a family that fled Burma and has been living in a refugee camp on the Burma/Thailand border. After they land, Ledi, a Congolese case worker will greet them and bring them to their new home at Serrano Village. She will show them how the showers work, how to use the dish soap, how to use the toilet... that they each have a bed to sleep in. Then, around 2 or 3 a.m., she will leave and they will be left alone in this strange place to begin picking up the pieces of their shattered lives.
If you have ever been overseas and plopped right in the middle of a foreign land, you know the unnerving feeling of having all of your comforts and abilities to navigate stripped away. In many cases, English is spoken in most airports and large cities in the world. Sadly for our new neighbors, they have no English skills. Imagine the shock -- liken it to being dropped into Beijing. You cannot read the signs, ask anyone for help... you don't even know how to buy groceries!! The result is a group of people that are accustomed to community and using their hands to make a living now trapped by fear inside of an apartment week in and week out. The mental and emotional impact in the days, weeks and months ahead in the lives of each new arrival will bring them just short of insane. I'm not exaggerating... many refugees struggle with alcoholism and suicide as a numbing alternative to their new reality.
So what does all of this mean for us? I suppose one thing we can all do is search our hearts regarding our feelings toward "immigrants" or people who now call America home for whatever reason. It is true that many come in search for a better life... but some come in search of keeping life. "This land is your land, this land is my land... this land was made for you and me" -- can you say in your heart that you would have a smile on your face that stretched down to your heart if you sang this to an Asian person who didn't speak a word of English? And as far as you could tell didn't have any drive to learn it?
The truth is that at some point all of our families came here to improve the future for the generations to come. Yet because many of us feel so American, we can quickly look at people from other nations and feel a sense of selfishness and dominion that clouds our ability to feel compassion and simple kindness. Have you ever pondered that you could have been born into a war-torn village in the middle of Iraq? Or even more controversial... in the middle of a crime-ridden, disease-infested, gang-dominated colonia in Mexico? As a mother, I would be lying if I said I wouldn't do anything in my power, including breaking the law, to move my family to a place with safe neighborhoods where my kids could walk to school without fear of being killed. We can forget that in the middle of these political arguments lie people. People. People with hopes and dreams. Not of a nice retirement or good colleges for their kids, but survival. Just survival. Let us search our hearts when we see these "intruders" in our country... and remember it isn't our country, it's God's, and He gives and takes away. Let us be thankful that He has chosen at this time to allow us to share this land with whomever He allows to enter in... and maybe, just maybe... He brought them here so they might know of the One who has preserved their lives and desires to give them life and give it more abundantly through faith in Him.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
WE TAKE TEAMS!
Want to come experience third-world missions in the states?? Come stay at Serrano Village!!!
Visit the FAQ section of this website for more info... it is an AMAZING week-long trip and your life along with a refugee's life will forever be changed!
www.phx1040interface.org
Or email me and we can chat :-)
Visit the FAQ section of this website for more info... it is an AMAZING week-long trip and your life along with a refugee's life will forever be changed!
www.phx1040interface.org
Or email me and we can chat :-)
Come see the pandas!!
So this story is funny... and a good picture of just how much we feel like the "Where's Waldo" books.
A few days after moving in I put the kids out on the patio of our apartment to have some play time. I was out there with them for a few minutes, then went inside to put a few things away in the kitchen. I could see them from my view but not much else beyond the patio. About 5 minutes later I went back out there to sit with them and I was so amused at what I found. About 20 feet away from my patio sat about 8 adults and 4 or 5 children. Just sitting and watching the whities. They were squatting and staring directly at the kids. I called my mom and said, "It's like they are a zoo exhibit!!" And not only any exhibit... panda-type exhibits worthy of calling your family and friends to come look!
This true story is a great visual because it shows how bewildered these refugees are at our presence. I've had several conversations that go something like this:
"So where are you from?"
"The Congo. And what about you?"
"Oh I'm from here" (with a nice Jesus-y smile)
"No I mean before here"
"Yes I know.. I am American!"
"No no... (looking frustrated for not communicating well enough in English)... I mean where were you born?"
"Yes I understand. Here... I lived in California and then I came here to Arizona".
"But this is a place for refugees"
"Yes I know! We love refugees! We want to live here and share your food and your culture and teach you about America" (insert another Jesus-y smile)
At this point they stare for a few of the longest seconds I've ever sat through, and they smile and still feel misunderstood.
"Ok then you come to my house for some food!"
Our moving here has certainly been the talk of the village. A friend was lost in the complex as she came to visit and she just asked the first stranger and he knew exactly where to point her. The apartment of the Americans is not a mystery here.
We have a tremendous opportunity to use this bewilderment as a parallel for the gospel. Their heads spin as you see them try to really understand what we are doing here... and in every persons heart who knows the story of the gospel, our heads ought to spin at how bizarre and unthinkable it is that the creator of the universe, the knitter of our souls, perfect in every way and divinely complete would become a man and come dwell with lost and dying sinners. That should make our heads spin. Does it?
Imagine the bridge that this incarnational ministry has! "You think it's crazy that we moved in here... let me tell you what Jesus did!!". These people come from story-telling cultures... we are learning Jesus stories and look for opportunities to just talk about who He is and what He has done... surely there will be more to follow on this topic!
A few days after moving in I put the kids out on the patio of our apartment to have some play time. I was out there with them for a few minutes, then went inside to put a few things away in the kitchen. I could see them from my view but not much else beyond the patio. About 5 minutes later I went back out there to sit with them and I was so amused at what I found. About 20 feet away from my patio sat about 8 adults and 4 or 5 children. Just sitting and watching the whities. They were squatting and staring directly at the kids. I called my mom and said, "It's like they are a zoo exhibit!!" And not only any exhibit... panda-type exhibits worthy of calling your family and friends to come look!
This true story is a great visual because it shows how bewildered these refugees are at our presence. I've had several conversations that go something like this:
"So where are you from?"
"The Congo. And what about you?"
"Oh I'm from here" (with a nice Jesus-y smile)
"No I mean before here"
"Yes I know.. I am American!"
"No no... (looking frustrated for not communicating well enough in English)... I mean where were you born?"
"Yes I understand. Here... I lived in California and then I came here to Arizona".
"But this is a place for refugees"
"Yes I know! We love refugees! We want to live here and share your food and your culture and teach you about America" (insert another Jesus-y smile)
At this point they stare for a few of the longest seconds I've ever sat through, and they smile and still feel misunderstood.
"Ok then you come to my house for some food!"
Our moving here has certainly been the talk of the village. A friend was lost in the complex as she came to visit and she just asked the first stranger and he knew exactly where to point her. The apartment of the Americans is not a mystery here.
We have a tremendous opportunity to use this bewilderment as a parallel for the gospel. Their heads spin as you see them try to really understand what we are doing here... and in every persons heart who knows the story of the gospel, our heads ought to spin at how bizarre and unthinkable it is that the creator of the universe, the knitter of our souls, perfect in every way and divinely complete would become a man and come dwell with lost and dying sinners. That should make our heads spin. Does it?
Imagine the bridge that this incarnational ministry has! "You think it's crazy that we moved in here... let me tell you what Jesus did!!". These people come from story-telling cultures... we are learning Jesus stories and look for opportunities to just talk about who He is and what He has done... surely there will be more to follow on this topic!
I used to be a pigeon!!!
You know how the fall leaves get swooshed around by the fall winds and you get this beautiful circular movement of flowing leaves all around the streets and sidewalks? Doesn't it just make your insides warm and light? Well we have that same thing here... only the beautiful orange and red leaves are pigeon feathers.
There's a lot to get accustomed to here... from the A/C unit that sounds like a freight train (hey built in white noise for the babies!) to the freezing cold turned scalding hot showers (114 apartments operating off of 2 water heaters!!)... and most of it is funny if not mildly irritating. It's like real mission field living sometimes!!
However, there is one aspect of this mission field living that my flesh does not find funny... and that is the pigeons. I don't know why but they bring out the worst in me! When my baby is picking up pigeon feathers that blow in from outside or when they are stuck to her little hands from just being on the patio and she tries to eat them... that is just gross!!
I was sitting out on the patio the other morning before the kids got up and all the while these pigeons are flocking left and right... and walking joyfully all around me. OH! The sudden flesh that those pigeons bring to the surface!! I was reading Esther and marveling at someone so willing to risk her very life for the sake of her people, and in the same breath of "Lord may I have the heart of Esther! To count your people so dear that my own life would be laid down!!" came "Those cursed rats with wings!" Same sentence... true testimony! So I caught my bipolar ways and began praying, "Ok Lord, give me love for the pigeons!" And as I sat there staring at these pigeons, the sun began hitting the building next to me... little by little the warm rays began resting on more and more of the roof. Each pigeon began moving into the sunlight, but there wasn't room for all of them. Those stuck in the shade kept pushing and nudging to be in the warmth of the light.
It may seem silly, but I took that picture and praised God for redeeming my dirty and diseased soul. He has indeed rescued me from darkness and delivered me into His marvelous light. The feelings I now have toward the pigeons are praises to my God, that He would look on me... a sick and troubled spirit, unclean and used up, no real good to anybody in the state I was in... YET still he saw value. He set my feet upon a rock and gave me a new song. I got pieces of Psalm 40 tattooed on my back when He became my God... and declared never to turn on Him again. Oh the grace that has been shown to me... the goodness and forgiveness I could never earn. Lord may I NEVER forget that I was a pigeon.
There's a lot to get accustomed to here... from the A/C unit that sounds like a freight train (hey built in white noise for the babies!) to the freezing cold turned scalding hot showers (114 apartments operating off of 2 water heaters!!)... and most of it is funny if not mildly irritating. It's like real mission field living sometimes!!
However, there is one aspect of this mission field living that my flesh does not find funny... and that is the pigeons. I don't know why but they bring out the worst in me! When my baby is picking up pigeon feathers that blow in from outside or when they are stuck to her little hands from just being on the patio and she tries to eat them... that is just gross!!
I was sitting out on the patio the other morning before the kids got up and all the while these pigeons are flocking left and right... and walking joyfully all around me. OH! The sudden flesh that those pigeons bring to the surface!! I was reading Esther and marveling at someone so willing to risk her very life for the sake of her people, and in the same breath of "Lord may I have the heart of Esther! To count your people so dear that my own life would be laid down!!" came "Those cursed rats with wings!" Same sentence... true testimony! So I caught my bipolar ways and began praying, "Ok Lord, give me love for the pigeons!" And as I sat there staring at these pigeons, the sun began hitting the building next to me... little by little the warm rays began resting on more and more of the roof. Each pigeon began moving into the sunlight, but there wasn't room for all of them. Those stuck in the shade kept pushing and nudging to be in the warmth of the light.
It may seem silly, but I took that picture and praised God for redeeming my dirty and diseased soul. He has indeed rescued me from darkness and delivered me into His marvelous light. The feelings I now have toward the pigeons are praises to my God, that He would look on me... a sick and troubled spirit, unclean and used up, no real good to anybody in the state I was in... YET still he saw value. He set my feet upon a rock and gave me a new song. I got pieces of Psalm 40 tattooed on my back when He became my God... and declared never to turn on Him again. Oh the grace that has been shown to me... the goodness and forgiveness I could never earn. Lord may I NEVER forget that I was a pigeon.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Those who are well have no need of a physician...
Jesus said that those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. This is a sick, sick community.
I am working in the office a few hours each week and just a few days ago I got to hear the stories of different families as we separated leases that needed to be flagged for renewal.
This Cuban woman hears voices and is deeply troubled, this Iraqi man suffers greatly from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after being in combat in Iraq, this Karen woman is beginning the divorce proceedings and her alcoholic husband may turn violent, this Kareni family is entirely illiterate and the father died 2 months ago and the husband died last month. They can't pay their rent and have no idea how to get out of this hole. This family .... the stories continued.... I got numb and stopped taking notes. The need is overwhelming. The need is pressing. The need can only be met by my God.
I have a greater love for the Jesus of the Gospels now than ever before. I have greater confidence in His presence than ever before. I always heard people say "God is with you, He will never leave you nor forsake you" as a comforting word in times of need. But more and more I am seeing that verse not as how it can benefit me... but as the power and divinity that is crucial to tackling this monstrous task ahead. It is a simple realization, but astounding in this season.
Desperate and passionate prayers are needed for the people here. There are over 100 families living in this complex, all from war-torn countries, and all with pasts that few of us can fathom. God knows, He has been there with them, and He is waiting on the other side to be their Physician. Oh Lord let it be.
I am working in the office a few hours each week and just a few days ago I got to hear the stories of different families as we separated leases that needed to be flagged for renewal.
This Cuban woman hears voices and is deeply troubled, this Iraqi man suffers greatly from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after being in combat in Iraq, this Karen woman is beginning the divorce proceedings and her alcoholic husband may turn violent, this Kareni family is entirely illiterate and the father died 2 months ago and the husband died last month. They can't pay their rent and have no idea how to get out of this hole. This family .... the stories continued.... I got numb and stopped taking notes. The need is overwhelming. The need is pressing. The need can only be met by my God.
I have a greater love for the Jesus of the Gospels now than ever before. I have greater confidence in His presence than ever before. I always heard people say "God is with you, He will never leave you nor forsake you" as a comforting word in times of need. But more and more I am seeing that verse not as how it can benefit me... but as the power and divinity that is crucial to tackling this monstrous task ahead. It is a simple realization, but astounding in this season.
Desperate and passionate prayers are needed for the people here. There are over 100 families living in this complex, all from war-torn countries, and all with pasts that few of us can fathom. God knows, He has been there with them, and He is waiting on the other side to be their Physician. Oh Lord let it be.
TRL
TRL - That's Refugee Life!
After moving into Serrano Village to live among the refugees we discovered a need very early on... say, around day 2... for a saying that would express our sentiments when no amount of words really could. We spun the classic TIA (This is Africa) into our own little world and came up with TRL.
When we join together at the end of the day, we share our classic TRL moments. "Babe... I had such an awesome TRL moment today!! I saw a goat being slaughtered on the patio of an apartment!!". Yes... this is a true story... it happened just yesterday.
Life's highlights will be much more colorful from now on... and I do hope you'll continue following!
After moving into Serrano Village to live among the refugees we discovered a need very early on... say, around day 2... for a saying that would express our sentiments when no amount of words really could. We spun the classic TIA (This is Africa) into our own little world and came up with TRL.
When we join together at the end of the day, we share our classic TRL moments. "Babe... I had such an awesome TRL moment today!! I saw a goat being slaughtered on the patio of an apartment!!". Yes... this is a true story... it happened just yesterday.
Life's highlights will be much more colorful from now on... and I do hope you'll continue following!
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