Coconuts on the Brain

So I know I've been super into Philippines nostalgia this week, but I can't help it! I got to talk to my dear sweet  Naomi, who is a journeyman on the island of Samar. Reminiscing with her about our adventures brought back a flood of exciting memories, which led me to pore over my journal and peruse through my pics. I felt like my first journal entry on the 13-something-hour plane ride from JFK to Hong Kong was worth sharing, especially since most of ya'll prayed me through those exciting yet sometimes trying seven months.


Journal Entry # 1 - January 7, 2010
Cathay Pacific Airlines JFK - HK

“So here I start my seven-month journey on an immense and deafly silent plane. The stillness of the plane only enhances the throbbing of my heart. I wonder if I will truly ever feel…right? As I sip the dark liquid, steaming on my tray, my senses are enhanced and my breathing is slowed. My thoughts wander and ponder – have I gone to do great things or have I fled from reality? Are these my thoughts or the poisonous doubts of the serpent? The jungle has forever been my oasis; the frontlines my refuge – why would this not be exactly what I was suppose to do? “Normal” seems to be my snare and while I cannot ignore my transgressions, maybe it is in fact the sign I need, to know and fulfill my rendezvous with destiny!


I seem to be overwhelmingly focused on my negatives and my fears, but uncertainty should not rule nor plague my existence. On the contrary, let my strengths, accomplishments and peace-filled passions be the markers that highlight my goings. Why wait for a bolt of lightening to illuminate my steps, when the Peace that surpasses all understanding is the song that steadies my soul. Can there be more definite signs than the gracious outpouring of a childhood friend and her unfamiliar spouse, whose religious convictions are a fraction of their generosity or the sincere sacrifice of less-than-mediocre income families or even the respect and reverence of a tiny congregation with their Everest-esque hearts? I think barring a Damascus-road experience, there can be no clearer affirmation, no brighter green light.


Now that assurance seems to have cajoled my faith, what should be the tone and attitude of my mission? Is it one of duty and sacrifice? Or is it jubilance and thanksgiving? Is it urgency and fervency? Is it compassion and love? Yes. It should be all these things and more, but most of all, my mission should be marked by love – God’s love. It is my prayer that I will come further into the presence of my Lord, that I will more accurately imitate the love of Christ everyday, that I will be humbled to the point of unfettered sacrifice; for I have nothing to mourn the absence of or in the reverse be prideful of its existence.


‘I am crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.' If I could honestly emulate these poignant words of the Apostle Paul, then the world would surely be impacted by my actions and the workings of the Spirit that dwells within me; then my mission could be concluded a success. It is my selfish pride and vain conceit that will inevitably be the frustrating stumbling block to my ministry, but I am far too stubborn to let even me beat me – the Devil will have to make a greater attempt than these! With fervent prayer and unceasing petition, I know it is possible to make myself sincerely insignificant and Christ unmistakably magnanimous! May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be Yours!


I do not ever seem to get much right the first time around, but when I fall on my face, I do it whole-heartedly. My passion pedal has one speed and it is usually uncharted by a limited needle and gage. It does not excuse my impulsive and subsequently dreadful experiences, but it is a fate I am almost happy to accept. The day I become numb to the world, the hour I transform into a drone and an unaffected, heartless machine is the day I will surely shrivel up and cease to live. It is the broken, correction; it is the shattered state of my heart that has infinitely expanded my ability to love and willingness to serve. To tape me up and bind my heart from feeling and emotion would be to reverse all progress the Holy Spirit has made in training this soldier. May my heart never be whole again until I am one day restored to my heavenly home and at the feet of my most precious Savior."

(Note: Please ignore the run on sentences and other gramatical errors. I wanted to keep it the same as the day I wrote it, which is really hard for me to not to compulsively edit my writing. I think the lack of perfection adds to the poetic tone of its message.)


I hope my vulnerable tale of fear and uncertainty helps inspire you to tackle a mountain today! God Bless!

Leftovers

I hope ya'll love leftovers as much as me. In my opinion, some food tastes better after its aged a day or two. Spaghetti always taste better after it has sat on the refridgerator shelf for at least a full 24 hours. Thanksgiving leftovers are some of my favorites because your holiday bird makes yummy yummy sandwiches and candied yams are one the few times you can get away with eating marshmallows for breakfast as an adult.

However, these are not those kind of leftovers. When skimming through my few hundred pixeled souvenirs from my 7-month excursion in the Philippine Islands, I found a few that just made me smile and remember those crazy crazy days of summer with my american student volunteers. While I'm stingy with my yams, these I will share!

This picture was taken during my very last week in the Philippines from a highyway overpass. It's such a harsh overwhelming reality to see the stark contrast of the miles of shanties against the modern city skyline.

This was a bitter sweet moment for my girls and I, when our precious little Analiza was well enough to go home. This particular orphanage actually took in malnoursihed tribal children, nursed them back to health, and returned them to their loved ones.

Storm-like-serenity

Tuesday afternoon, I took a break from work to my caffeinated oasis (Starbuks of course). I don't know about you, but I have a hard time finding stillness in my life. It's always go-go-go and there's no time to stop and smell the roses or even appreciate the wind on your face. This week has been a dreary mess of wind and rain, with nightly threats of tornadoes and more severe storms than have actually taken place. However, as I sat in the cold metal black chair, sipped my grande-skim-latte, and soaked up the inner-stillness as the blustery wind swirled around me, there was something oddly serene about that moment of silence in the looming storm. It was as if God was using the wind to form a barrier around me, shielding me from all my stress and pain, telling me that my giants could not find me here and that I could relax for awhile and enjoy my coffee and be at peace. I didn't read or text or journal, I just sat and was quiet for a little while. I felt safe and at peace because no matter what storms my come my way whether physiological or spiritual, I'm not in control. I just have to have faith in my Father and Creator to guide and protect me no matter how dark the night or how strong the wind.


Are you stressed? Forget yoga, aromatherapy, and day spas, snuggle into your favorite sweat shirt, cuddle up to hot soothing cup of coffee and let God wrap his ever so light yet undeniably strong and protective arms around you. To God be the glory!


"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the pwer of the Holy Spirit." - Romans 15:13

Frustration

Sunday, I attended church and the interim pastor decided to give me a good ulcer with his particular illustration of "Sweet Spot Living." He gave some good scripture references and even told the infamous tale of William Wilberforce. He told of how Wilberforce alienated himself and nearly ended up on his deathbed for his devout efforts to abolish the slave trade in England.

However, directly following the surreal labors of a truly self-sacrificing man, the preacher proceeds with a video of a local church member. It told of how she worked a dead end job for many years and was eventually let go. She was devastated and desperate. She was even desperately afraid, of ending up in another dead end job. She took a risk and opened her own business. Her business is now very successful.

The End

When the camera fade set in, acknowledging a conclusion, I was astonished. I think my mouth may have even dropped open.


Where was God in all of that? How does that story at all depict what it means to have found true life and unfettered joy in Jesus Christ? The only time her story really mentioned God’s involvement was that she initially didn’t think God would let her do something that made her happy, and confessed that she didn’t give Him enough credit.


One, how on earth do you follow the noble story of William Wilberforce, with a person’s self-gratifying ambition to open their own business? Secondly, how do use such an illustration to describe finding “Sweet Spot Living,” especially if we’re speaking in a Christian context? There was no mention of her relationship with God, or how she used this blessing of success to better serve God and ultimately there was zero mention of her involvement in advancing the Kingdom of God.


Now, I’m not saying she is not doing any of these things, because there is a very good chance that she is and I will of course give her the benefit of the doubt, because lets be real, who among us is really doing ALL we can to serve God?


My bone to pick is not with her, but with the Church staff that sat around a boardroom and brainstormed this idea. I get all worked up just thinking about the implications made and the message it sent to the congregation – life isn’t about suffering for the name of Jesus and the winning of lost souls, it’s about finding a job/career/hobby/thing to fill your time, that makes you happy; life is about Y-O-U. I cannot begin to describe the sorrow that fills my soul to hear such heresy in a Church generation that already so seldom teaches the Great Commission.


Let us consult the authority on this subject. Jesus said,

“If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you. This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.” – John 15: 7 & 8

If you claim to live in the grace of Calvary, then life is lived as Christ commands – the bearing of fruit at the expense of self. As ironic and irrational as faith motivated sacrifice seems to the secular realm, the contradiction that is personified by the nature of an omniscient God transfers to the life of His beloved: in that we may be miserable, destitute dregs of society, but there is also joy, pure abundant joy, in life lived for THE calling. “…follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” (Matt 4:19; Mark 1:17)






Till. ALL. Have. Heard.