Ever since I arrived home from Guatemala I’ve had this intense compulsion to shop. Oddly enough I haven’t taken the time to analyze this sudden drive but suddenly it’s driving me crazy. At all times there’s been this subtle desire in the back of my mind to go off somewhere and much like a toys r’ us sweepstakes winner would have when I was a kid just grab a hold of everything in my path and HAVE it. I want to flee to Chicago with Jesse and purchase clothing, elaborate food and desserts, shoes, household items, gifts for loved ones; you name it I want it (the last two times we went to Chicago we purchased nothing other than food). I want to drop everything and drive to the Grandville mall (which always makes my skin crawl when I’m there) and buy chocolates, books, PJ’s, clothes; oh the list goes on. I’m not for any psychotic reasons making this up. I’ve had this underlying compulsion poking at me ever since I got home.
It’s weird. I’m a tad bit ashamed to admit it. But thems the facts and I don’t understand the facts for one moment. Usually when I arrive home from Guatemala I have exactly the opposite pull take effect. I’m generally disgusted at the idea of spending a single penny. Usually I get annoyed with anyone who happens to pass by me in extremely nice clothing or with a brand new car. Usually money or the necessity of it is obsolete once I arrive home. Not this year.
Maybe I’m at a breaking point in this year long blogging thing. Maybe I need to go off into a corner somewhere and just sit and re-evaluate. Maybe I need to stare reality in the face and admit that I am an American with deep rooted tendencies towards spending, consuming, luxury, comfort, and spoiled rottenness. Maybe this is the point where I admit defeat, repent, and chose the path I’m going to trod. Will it be a path of conscious living, a path of simplicity and subtle beauty, one strewn with humanitarian efforts devoid of self absorption, or shall I stay upon the path I know, a path of comfort, and excess, a path which strays as far from the little man as humanly possible and traverses upon all which my little heart could ever desire?
Anyone who’s read much of this blog would know that my heart pulls me towards the more difficult path, one contrary to the life patterns engrained within me. I desire to do what my heart tells me is right, to live a simple life and care for the simple man. BUT my flesh, my being, something really loud and unbelievable strong inside of me shouts, “Just forget about it and live the life you know. Buy something for crying out loud!”
I admittedly am getting sick of fighting but I think this is the point where I pull out some boxing gloves or just surrender.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Day 156
I should have more than enough to say. But somedays my brain does not work. That'd be today.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Home, Day 155
Today I am pondering home. My house very much feels like home. I love my husband, our little furry family and our home. But home isn’t where someone lives. I know this quite well. During my teenage years I felt much more at home while I was staying with certain friends than I did being at my house. My house wasn’t comforting to me at all. Every year when I arrive in Guatemala I have this overwhelming sensation of being home. Every time I have the opportunity to go I jump at it. Being reunited with Chichi is beyond comforting. It just feels right being there. I feel a similar connection to the Cornerstone farm. My sister and I drive 6 hours to get there every year. We roll into the dusty field filled with tents and, ahh… I can breathe. I feel free, at peace, safe, I feel like I’m home when I arrive there.
Thinking about it home must be a place filled with relationships; a place where incredibly special people reside; people that one’s heart loves and is drawn to. Home must be a place where one feels alive; a place where one can be who they are, unfettered, unchained, unburdened. I’m incredibly fortunate to have found three very special places that I can call home. But at the same time it’s easy to get home sick. Often times I long so adamantly to return to Guatemala, to smell the ashy aroma everywhere I go, to feel the dust on my skin, to hear the Guatemala Spanish being spoken all around me. Sometimes I wish I were at Cornerstone with music of all different genres blaring in the background, sun beating down upon me always, warmth and people, people everywhere who in at least a little way feel the same way about life as I do (or at least about music).
As for right now, this very moment I am home. I am me. I am at peace. I have loved ones surrounding me. I am confident and comfortable and happy to be… home.
Thinking about it home must be a place filled with relationships; a place where incredibly special people reside; people that one’s heart loves and is drawn to. Home must be a place where one feels alive; a place where one can be who they are, unfettered, unchained, unburdened. I’m incredibly fortunate to have found three very special places that I can call home. But at the same time it’s easy to get home sick. Often times I long so adamantly to return to Guatemala, to smell the ashy aroma everywhere I go, to feel the dust on my skin, to hear the Guatemala Spanish being spoken all around me. Sometimes I wish I were at Cornerstone with music of all different genres blaring in the background, sun beating down upon me always, warmth and people, people everywhere who in at least a little way feel the same way about life as I do (or at least about music).
As for right now, this very moment I am home. I am me. I am at peace. I have loved ones surrounding me. I am confident and comfortable and happy to be… home.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
The Filthiest Gift I’ve ever been Given, Day 154
We saved the bulk of our donations all week so that on Thursday we could bring them to pacaxiqu, the hardest hit area around Chichi. We drove higher into the mountains than I’ve ever gone. I felt as if we were on the top of the world looking out over the mountains, over Guatemala. I could see forever. I could probably have seen my house if I’d eaten more carrots prior to the visit (and if the world was flat). The view was mesmerizing.
On top of the world at pacaxiqu we gave clothes, shoes, toys, toothbrushes, and candy to all the families who had recently lost everything. A lot of people showed up for our give away. They were very appreciative and happy. I made friends with a little boy who received a new superman shirt and tennis shoes that lit up. Together we chased around an orange bouncy ball for a long time.
Once we were ready to leave Ron informed us that the people had a gift for us. We were led to a church building where chairs had been set out for each of us. We all took a seat and then were served a large piece of cake with soda. The cake was delicious. There were several different flavors of pop that were brought around for us to choose. I chose a Pepsi. As we each grabbed a hold of our beverages there was a universal look of fear in our eyes. Everyone hesitated for a few minutes before they took a drink.
In Guatemala the people collect empty bottles, refill them (I think out of fountain machines) and resell them. The bottles are found lying on the side of the road, in trash piles, wherever, and they are not sanitized before being reused. We’ve been strongly cautioned against drinking anything in glass bottles for this very reason.
We couldn’t do the safe thing and refuse to drink the sodas. The fact that the people had gotten them specifically for us was a tremendously incredible gesture. Those people had little money, many of them had recently lost EVERYTHING in the tropical storm and yet they had bought cake and pop to thank us for bringing them donations. We could not decline.
Just before gulping down my Pepsi I thanked God for the awesome blessing it was and asked Him to protect me against anything harmful. I then lifted the VERY worn glass towards my lips, taking note of a scraped up ring around the logo that had been worn right off and I noticed a good amount of brown build up, just under the mouth of the bottle. I cringed a tiny bit and then I enjoyed my Pepsi with the most delicious of cakes.
On the way back to town the truck got stuck in a mud slide. I got mud in my eye and all over me. It was quite the adventure on top of the world but I wouldn’t change a thing.
On top of the world at pacaxiqu we gave clothes, shoes, toys, toothbrushes, and candy to all the families who had recently lost everything. A lot of people showed up for our give away. They were very appreciative and happy. I made friends with a little boy who received a new superman shirt and tennis shoes that lit up. Together we chased around an orange bouncy ball for a long time.
Once we were ready to leave Ron informed us that the people had a gift for us. We were led to a church building where chairs had been set out for each of us. We all took a seat and then were served a large piece of cake with soda. The cake was delicious. There were several different flavors of pop that were brought around for us to choose. I chose a Pepsi. As we each grabbed a hold of our beverages there was a universal look of fear in our eyes. Everyone hesitated for a few minutes before they took a drink.
In Guatemala the people collect empty bottles, refill them (I think out of fountain machines) and resell them. The bottles are found lying on the side of the road, in trash piles, wherever, and they are not sanitized before being reused. We’ve been strongly cautioned against drinking anything in glass bottles for this very reason.
We couldn’t do the safe thing and refuse to drink the sodas. The fact that the people had gotten them specifically for us was a tremendously incredible gesture. Those people had little money, many of them had recently lost EVERYTHING in the tropical storm and yet they had bought cake and pop to thank us for bringing them donations. We could not decline.
Just before gulping down my Pepsi I thanked God for the awesome blessing it was and asked Him to protect me against anything harmful. I then lifted the VERY worn glass towards my lips, taking note of a scraped up ring around the logo that had been worn right off and I noticed a good amount of brown build up, just under the mouth of the bottle. I cringed a tiny bit and then I enjoyed my Pepsi with the most delicious of cakes.
On the way back to town the truck got stuck in a mud slide. I got mud in my eye and all over me. It was quite the adventure on top of the world but I wouldn’t change a thing.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Beanie Bear, Day 153
On Wednesday we visited a refugee camp in the city. The people there had all lost their homes. They had virtually no belongings left. Many of them had lost loved ones, some entire families. The people were being sheltered in a school building. There were thin mattresses rolled up along the edges of the gymnasium. Each mattress was accompanied by trash bags which contained all that remained of what the people owned.
We brought with us a few toys, candy, games, prizes, clowns, and some teachings about the Bible. As we riled up the children, played games, and made a ruckus all I could see was joy. I didn’t even catch a glimpse of loss or depression. The children ran around with vibrant smiles on their little faces. They jumped and sprinted and tackled each other over a ball. By the time we began our program the boys all had tremendously sweaty faces upon which they wore huge smiles.
The first game that we played during the production was an m&m relay involving 6 boys and 6 girls. As the children were being selected I noticed one boy who was incredibly eager to play. He was so excited to be picked, jumping up and down, begging the payasos to choose him. I couldn’t help but smile at the excitement he displayed. It seemed that all of his friends were chosen but not him. He was probably the oldest of all his friends, somewhere between 12 and 14. The look on his face upon discovering his defeat was initially one of shock. I think he was hoping for brief moment longer that he would still be called. As he sat down he wore an all encompassing expression of rejection, tragedy, and loss. My heart broke as I watched him admit defeat. I leaned over to him and told him there would be another game. He smiled a tiny bit but he was hardly consoled. I knew only 1 boy would be selected for the next game but I couldn’t just sit and watch his little heart breaking. I tried to offer some hope.
When the second game came around the clowns were scrambling to pick a contestant. They couldn’t remember who had already played and who hadn’t. I rushed over to the chaos, pointed adamantly at the boy and said, “I know that HE hasn’t played yet.” One of the clowns ushered him forward and with a delightful sigh of relief I retook my seat.
The game involved 1 boy, 1 girl, and 5 buckets. Each bucket concealed a prize; 1 piece of candy, or a handful of candy, or a jar of baby food, or more candy, or lastly, the grand prize. The boy chose one bucket, the girl chose another. As the remaining buckets were slowly removed to reveal what prizes hadn’t been chosen each child had to decide whether to stick with their first choice or whether they wanted to switch to one of the remaining buckets.
When all was said and done the boy won the grand prize. He received more candy than he could carry and a beanie bear. He was delighted, ecstatic as he made his way back to his seat with his arms full of goodies and all his friends oohing and ahhing at his conquest. After he sat I couldn’t help but notice how enraptured he was by his brand new beanie bear. (If I may clarify, virtually none of the items we gave away were brand new. They’d all been donated by people back home). The boy began to play with the little bear. He lifted it up like a father with a tiny child. He swung the bear back and forth as if it were on a swing set. For at least 5 minutes I watched the young man, 12 to 14 years of age play with that little bear almost as if it were the only toy he’d ever had. After a bit I noticed him give the beanie a little kiss on the nose, followed by another, and another.
I don’t know his story or his loss. I don’t know what toys or pets or family members may have been taken away by one of the mudslides. But I do know that with that one little bear he received something more valuable than possibly everything I own.
We brought with us a few toys, candy, games, prizes, clowns, and some teachings about the Bible. As we riled up the children, played games, and made a ruckus all I could see was joy. I didn’t even catch a glimpse of loss or depression. The children ran around with vibrant smiles on their little faces. They jumped and sprinted and tackled each other over a ball. By the time we began our program the boys all had tremendously sweaty faces upon which they wore huge smiles.
The first game that we played during the production was an m&m relay involving 6 boys and 6 girls. As the children were being selected I noticed one boy who was incredibly eager to play. He was so excited to be picked, jumping up and down, begging the payasos to choose him. I couldn’t help but smile at the excitement he displayed. It seemed that all of his friends were chosen but not him. He was probably the oldest of all his friends, somewhere between 12 and 14. The look on his face upon discovering his defeat was initially one of shock. I think he was hoping for brief moment longer that he would still be called. As he sat down he wore an all encompassing expression of rejection, tragedy, and loss. My heart broke as I watched him admit defeat. I leaned over to him and told him there would be another game. He smiled a tiny bit but he was hardly consoled. I knew only 1 boy would be selected for the next game but I couldn’t just sit and watch his little heart breaking. I tried to offer some hope.
When the second game came around the clowns were scrambling to pick a contestant. They couldn’t remember who had already played and who hadn’t. I rushed over to the chaos, pointed adamantly at the boy and said, “I know that HE hasn’t played yet.” One of the clowns ushered him forward and with a delightful sigh of relief I retook my seat.
The game involved 1 boy, 1 girl, and 5 buckets. Each bucket concealed a prize; 1 piece of candy, or a handful of candy, or a jar of baby food, or more candy, or lastly, the grand prize. The boy chose one bucket, the girl chose another. As the remaining buckets were slowly removed to reveal what prizes hadn’t been chosen each child had to decide whether to stick with their first choice or whether they wanted to switch to one of the remaining buckets.
When all was said and done the boy won the grand prize. He received more candy than he could carry and a beanie bear. He was delighted, ecstatic as he made his way back to his seat with his arms full of goodies and all his friends oohing and ahhing at his conquest. After he sat I couldn’t help but notice how enraptured he was by his brand new beanie bear. (If I may clarify, virtually none of the items we gave away were brand new. They’d all been donated by people back home). The boy began to play with the little bear. He lifted it up like a father with a tiny child. He swung the bear back and forth as if it were on a swing set. For at least 5 minutes I watched the young man, 12 to 14 years of age play with that little bear almost as if it were the only toy he’d ever had. After a bit I noticed him give the beanie a little kiss on the nose, followed by another, and another.
I don’t know his story or his loss. I don’t know what toys or pets or family members may have been taken away by one of the mudslides. But I do know that with that one little bear he received something more valuable than possibly everything I own.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Diego, Day 152
My diamond has returned to my hand as I’ve no further reason to conceal it. I’ve enjoyed a long hot shower with great water pressure and I didn’t have to think even once about what types of parasitic organisms would have ended up in my stomach had I accidentally opened my mouth. I’ve giddily flushed tons of toilet paper thanks to our grand American sewer systems and I don’t think I could find a toilet here like the stench filled hole hidden behind a few boards at Saquilla if my life depended on it. My clothes are clean without any traces of mud. The television is readily accessible. My car glides forward ever so smoothly on our nicely paved flat roadways and the bucket seat hugs me as drive. I’ve willfully engorged myself on two separate occasions already. I am home.
My return to the world I know all too well has brought more with it than simply further enlightenment on all the luxuries we take daily for granted. I have little faces set fast within my mind. I’ve returned home with an increased love for the people of Guatemala. I’ve returned home with names engraved upon my heart. There was one little boy, Diego, it seems I always fall head over heels in love with just one. I have Diego to pray for, to bring before the Lord in petition every single day. A part of me wishes adamantly that I could have stayed. I wish I could have endured the parasites and stinky toilets only to have an opportunity everyday to say, “I love you” to that little boy. If every day I could tell him how special he is and how much God cares for him. If every day I could remind him of his future, tell him there’s a purpose to his life, hug him and play basketball. If every day I could be there for just that one, I feel my life would be perfectly complete.
He remembered me (at least he remembered us) from years before. The look of sheer joy he wore at our return was priceless. He was different than the other children. He enjoyed playing with the rest of them but he was beyond eager to help out in any way he could. He moved tables and chairs with us. He painted some. He helped round up the other children. He taught me a little Quiche. He was brimming with joy. His smile is priceless. Diego lives in the mountains of Guatemala in a tiny home unfit for our gardening tools. His clothes are full of holes, his shoes are beyond worn. He goes to school, but at the age of 13 he’s incredibly close to completing school. He’s so young and such a precious child but in the world where he lives he’s practically a man. He attends the feeding program near his home twice a week with his 5 brothers and 1 sister (there’s an infant brother back home who’s too young to attend the program just yet).
Finding someone so special with such a grim future looming ahead of them brings unending tears. I can only hope. I can only pray. I cannot live there but bits of my heart have stayed in Guatemala with Diego.
So we have continued praying for you ever since we first heard about you. We ask God to give you a complete understanding of what he wants to do in your lives, and we ask him to make you wise with spiritual wisdom. Col 1:9 NLT
Spanish word for the day: Broma - Joke
Monday, June 21, 2010
I can’t stop thinking about the shoe shine boys, Day 151
It’s nice to be home. But it’s also difficult. Every time I return from Guatemala I look all around me, everywhere I look there is waste, unnecessary want and individuals blessed beyond comprehension who’ve total disregard for those less fortunate who virtually cover this planet.
The last thing I want is to judge anyone for anything. I haven’t ventured all the way to Guatemala in an attempt to love people only to then return home and dislike people. That’d be stupid. But it is very difficult, the culture shock; to witness firsthand the tremendous gap that separates two entirely different societies.
Yesterday I was very tired. I am still suffering from pretty intense jetlag. All day I’ve hardly been able to keep my eyes open. My eyelids are extremely heavy. Yesterday I woke up at 10 (with only 6 hours of sleep). I spent some time visiting Jesse’s grandmother in the hospital. We just stood there, and stood there, and stood there. After standing for far too long we went Father’s day shopping. We stopped at the Hallmark store, Frank’s meat market, Meijer, Papa Murphy’s pizza, and a party store in GH. I’m genuinely amazed at how quickly little bits of money can add up to a grand sum total and all the while slowly escape ones grasp. It seems additionally that while little bits of money meander off, time always goes away with it. After the spending spree we went to Jesse’s parents’ house. We watched TV and ate pizza. That was the whole of my day. I didn’t do anything significant. There wasn’t one thing I had to do out of necessity in the whole of 24 hours. It was a lazy day. It was a rather wasteful day.
I’m not complaining about holiday or arguing against rest but I cannot stop thinking about the shoe shine boys in Guatemala. These children can be found everywhere; young boys with little wooden stools and accompanying wooden boxes of black polish. The boys wear black smudges upon their clothing, their faces, their wooden necessities; black smudges cover their lives. They spend all day walking through the streets, or sitting on their 4 inch tall stools, waiting and looking for shoes to shine. They’re cleaver little sales men who’ll shine your shoes with black polish even if you’re wearing white sneakers. If you’re wearing sandals or in no way interested in a shoe shine they cut right to the chase and just ask for food or money or candy; whatever they think you’ll be most likely to offer. Here in America we don’t even allow our children of similar ages out alone and these young boys work the streets all day trying to make a living.
I feel strange just sitting around. I feel a bit sad just relaxing, enjoying the breeze on a warm summer day. I feel ungrateful not recognizing every tiny bit of freedom I enjoy knowing there is such want, such need, such toil being executed elsewhere under this very same sun. It’s difficult coming home.
The last thing I want is to judge anyone for anything. I haven’t ventured all the way to Guatemala in an attempt to love people only to then return home and dislike people. That’d be stupid. But it is very difficult, the culture shock; to witness firsthand the tremendous gap that separates two entirely different societies.
Yesterday I was very tired. I am still suffering from pretty intense jetlag. All day I’ve hardly been able to keep my eyes open. My eyelids are extremely heavy. Yesterday I woke up at 10 (with only 6 hours of sleep). I spent some time visiting Jesse’s grandmother in the hospital. We just stood there, and stood there, and stood there. After standing for far too long we went Father’s day shopping. We stopped at the Hallmark store, Frank’s meat market, Meijer, Papa Murphy’s pizza, and a party store in GH. I’m genuinely amazed at how quickly little bits of money can add up to a grand sum total and all the while slowly escape ones grasp. It seems additionally that while little bits of money meander off, time always goes away with it. After the spending spree we went to Jesse’s parents’ house. We watched TV and ate pizza. That was the whole of my day. I didn’t do anything significant. There wasn’t one thing I had to do out of necessity in the whole of 24 hours. It was a lazy day. It was a rather wasteful day.
I’m not complaining about holiday or arguing against rest but I cannot stop thinking about the shoe shine boys in Guatemala. These children can be found everywhere; young boys with little wooden stools and accompanying wooden boxes of black polish. The boys wear black smudges upon their clothing, their faces, their wooden necessities; black smudges cover their lives. They spend all day walking through the streets, or sitting on their 4 inch tall stools, waiting and looking for shoes to shine. They’re cleaver little sales men who’ll shine your shoes with black polish even if you’re wearing white sneakers. If you’re wearing sandals or in no way interested in a shoe shine they cut right to the chase and just ask for food or money or candy; whatever they think you’ll be most likely to offer. Here in America we don’t even allow our children of similar ages out alone and these young boys work the streets all day trying to make a living.
I feel strange just sitting around. I feel a bit sad just relaxing, enjoying the breeze on a warm summer day. I feel ungrateful not recognizing every tiny bit of freedom I enjoy knowing there is such want, such need, such toil being executed elsewhere under this very same sun. It’s difficult coming home.
"When the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the holy angels with Him, then He will sit on the throne of His glory. All the nations will be gathered before Him, and He will separate them one from another, as a shepherd divides his sheep from the goats. And He will set the sheep on His right hand, but the goats on the left. Then the King will say to those on His right hand, 'Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.' "Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, 'Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You drink? When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You? 'And the King will answer and say to them, 'Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.' "Then He will also say to those on the left hand, 'Depart from Me, you cursed, into the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels: for I was hungry and you gave Me no food; I was thirsty and you gave Me no drink… Matt 25:35-42
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
I am here, Day 150
How weird is it that half of the time when we're doing one thing we're thinking about doing something else latter on. Once we arrive at that something else what's the likelyhood that we'll end up thinking about something else while we're there?
Why do we do this?
Now is happening. I should try and be here.
I'd like to add to that: Do not look towards tomorrow for joy, for tomorrow will take care of it's self. Sufficient for the day is its own delights.
Why do we do this?
Now is happening. I should try and be here.
Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble. Matt 6:34
I'd like to add to that: Do not look towards tomorrow for joy, for tomorrow will take care of it's self. Sufficient for the day is its own delights.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
T- minus 77 hours, Day 148
I have to admit that I am a little worried about the upcoming trip. I am worried that I am going to arrive in Guatemala, I am going to see firsthand the reality of the devastation, my heart will then break, and I will begin crying never to stop.
One of the missionaries down there right now posted something about how she just talked with a pregnant woman, “who lost her home and 5 of her family members… her story could be told many times over.” The saddest part of this for me is that I can see their faces. I have been there. I have fallen in love with the people. I have played so joyously with the little children. I’ve prayed over despairing mothers. I’m not prepared to see those kinds of tears in those precious eyes.
I sit here in my air-conditioned mansion typing away at my computer, delicious filling dinner digesting within my stomach, my husband watching television in the background with our two little dogs and cat who probably ate more this evening than many of the people in Guatemala. I’m not sure I’m prepared to see that kind of devastation.
I’m ready to go. I can’t wait to go. But I cannot get over the harsh reality of what I’m about to step into. And then I shall leave, and they’ll all still be there, and a little hope with have been given, a little love will have been shared, a ton of clothes will have been distributed, and I dare say A LOT of hard work will have been executed, but I will return to luxury and they will still be hungry.
My heart is already breaking and I haven’t seen it yet. I cannot imagine what it will look like. And honestly who debates with themselves over the purchase of a cup of tea as emphatically as I do. I’m genuinely terrified of how I might return. I might never buy a new article of clothing for the rest of my life after this trip. I’m going to look like a hobo in a few years.
I’ll leave it at that… for now.
"The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because the LORD has anointed me to preach good tidings to the poor... to console those who mourn in Zion, to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they may be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified." And they shall rebuild the old ruins, they shall raise up the former desolations, and they shall repair the ruined cities... Isaiah 61:1-4P.S. in the Quiche language "Quiche" is two words which means "Many Trees."
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Torches Together, Day 147
And the LORD went before them by day in a pillar of cloud to lead the way, and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so as to go by day and night. He did not take away the pillar of cloud by day or the pillar of fire by night from before the people. Ex 13:21-22The Lord goes before me. All that He has planned He shall accomplish.
A fire goes before Him, and burns up His enemies round about.I don’t want to just be. I don’t want to shrink back from the flames. I don’t want to stand back afar and gaze upon the splendor of the Lord. I am sick of complaining about the heat. No longer do I wish to announce the discomfort from the flames as a work of the devil. The enemy doesn’t have access to the fire of the Lord. On the contrary he’s terrified of it.
Psalm 97:3
So then, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will vomit you out of My mouth.I am an instrument. The heart of this instrument longs for fire. I believe that if I draw near enough to God, near enough to the pillar of fire that goes before me then I shall become consumed like a phoenix. I shall become a torch to carry the fire, to spread the flame, to share the warmth.
Rev 3:16
[John the Baptist declared] One mightier than I is coming… He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. [Jesus told His followers] You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you and you shall be my witnesses…Jesus said, “Go.” He said, “You are the light of the world,” like a city set on a hill which cannot be hidden. Let us go together. Let us be torches together. In unity may we share the love, the compassion, and the fire of the Father with all who desire life.
Luke 3:16, Acts 1:8
You call on the name of your gods, and I will call on the name of the LORD; and the God who answers by fire, He is God. So all the people answered and said, "It is well spoken." Then the fire of the LORD fell and consumed the burnt sacrifice, and the wood and the stones and the dust, and it licked up the water that was in the trench. Now when all the people saw it, they fell on their faces; and they said, "The LORD, He is God! The LORD, He is God!"
1 Kings 18: 24,38, 39
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Fire, Day 145
The old testament talks regularly of burning the pagan cities with fire; of burning the idol worshipers with fire; or destroying all that was bad with fire. The people, like God, go forth often with fire to consume all that lies within their paths. These stories hardly portray the good guys as good. Who wants to hear about woman and children running and screaming as their homes are burned to the ground, meanwhile the “good” guys stand and revel in their victory? We’ve all seen this sort of thing in movies. We’ve read of it in books, in history books in fact. People who play with fire are generally not nice people. Those people are always the villains.
When we look at the old testament stories of conquest literally, there is such heartache there, so much death, and so much destruction. So many lives are lost, for what, that one people might possess a piece of earth which previously belonged to another people? The constant reference to fire destroying evil and enemies is harsh and dark. Many of the verses in the Bible about God consuming with fire almost make God look like a meany head. I looked through the Bible today to find life, to discover power and light in the old testament references to fire, but they each seem so destructive.
Pagan stories of old all intertwine the spiritual with the physical. Historians stand in awe of each ancient epic, but you’ll always hear them say, “These are only stories. We must recognize that there is little validity in them. We cannot take them for fact. We must only view them as a picture of what life may have looked like all those hundreds and thousands of years ago.”
If we were to look at the old testament stories as parables, or as stories, the way in which we are taught to view the pagan tales, well, then I feel we would see a much different picture. The story goes something like this: There is this thing, a God, who created EVERYTHING. He is all powerful, all knowing, and He only desires good. This God created man and He loved man. He only desired good for His creation. However man multiplied and some men decided to follow God, to listen to the creator and to seek out what is good. Other men decided that life would be much more interesting if they ignored God and discovered that there was this awesome intriguing power in serving only themselves and abandoning the idea of unity, all concepts of love, rules, regulations, structure; life is more exciting when you can do anything you want.
This God, this creator, He burns with fire. It is a brilliant, bright, magnificent and powerful fire. It consumes all that it touches. The fire burns off excess, rubbish, waste; the fire refines and purifies. The Creator who burns with fire offered His fire to the men who chose to accept His love, the men who chose to Love the Creator. The fire would consume man but that when God created man He breathed His own breath into their lungs. They are alive because He lives in them. Those who’ve been offered the fire now have the power to consume all that is bad, all that is evil, and all that is contrary to the Creator.
These followers of God, they go forth seeking life, seeking light, seeking beauty, seeking truth, and seeking signs of God here on earth. While they carry the fire they consume with it all the darkness, all the filth and wretchedness, all the lies and perversion that they come across. People who’ve forgotten God, who no longer realize there is a creator they see the fire, it consumes pieces of them which are contrary to the nature of God who created them and it hurts but once they are set free from the darkness and dross which has surrounded them they are called back to the way of truth and of beauty.
I know the old testament stories don’t look quite like this. But this, to me, is the simplified version of the long story. You’re probably saying wow that’s a stretch. Maybe if you think God is a joke you’re saying those people with fire should just leave those other people alone. Who’s to say that light is good and dark is bad? Here’s what I say: If the pagans who told the stories hundreds and thousands of years ago, stories of the underworld, of fairies, giants, banshees, mystical powers, spiritual blessing and spiritual wrath, if they believed so strongly in the spiritual that they could see it manifest in their physical lives then who are we to say they were only telling stories? Who are you to say, if I believe strongly enough, that my God, the creator of everything, didn’t give me fire so that I could discover beauty, light, and truth?
The wrath of the Lord is regularly accompanied by fire. But if good is there, if purity, if pricelessness, then the fire causes that which is pure to be brought forth while anything less is destroyed.
For the LORD your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God. Therefore understand today that the LORD your God is He who goes over before you as a consuming fire. He will destroy them and bring them down before you; so you shall drive them out and destroy them quickly, as the LORD has said to you. For our God is a consuming fire.
Deu 4:24, Due 9:3, Hbr 12:29
When we look at the old testament stories of conquest literally, there is such heartache there, so much death, and so much destruction. So many lives are lost, for what, that one people might possess a piece of earth which previously belonged to another people? The constant reference to fire destroying evil and enemies is harsh and dark. Many of the verses in the Bible about God consuming with fire almost make God look like a meany head. I looked through the Bible today to find life, to discover power and light in the old testament references to fire, but they each seem so destructive.
Pagan stories of old all intertwine the spiritual with the physical. Historians stand in awe of each ancient epic, but you’ll always hear them say, “These are only stories. We must recognize that there is little validity in them. We cannot take them for fact. We must only view them as a picture of what life may have looked like all those hundreds and thousands of years ago.”
If we were to look at the old testament stories as parables, or as stories, the way in which we are taught to view the pagan tales, well, then I feel we would see a much different picture. The story goes something like this: There is this thing, a God, who created EVERYTHING. He is all powerful, all knowing, and He only desires good. This God created man and He loved man. He only desired good for His creation. However man multiplied and some men decided to follow God, to listen to the creator and to seek out what is good. Other men decided that life would be much more interesting if they ignored God and discovered that there was this awesome intriguing power in serving only themselves and abandoning the idea of unity, all concepts of love, rules, regulations, structure; life is more exciting when you can do anything you want.
This God, this creator, He burns with fire. It is a brilliant, bright, magnificent and powerful fire. It consumes all that it touches. The fire burns off excess, rubbish, waste; the fire refines and purifies. The Creator who burns with fire offered His fire to the men who chose to accept His love, the men who chose to Love the Creator. The fire would consume man but that when God created man He breathed His own breath into their lungs. They are alive because He lives in them. Those who’ve been offered the fire now have the power to consume all that is bad, all that is evil, and all that is contrary to the Creator.
These followers of God, they go forth seeking life, seeking light, seeking beauty, seeking truth, and seeking signs of God here on earth. While they carry the fire they consume with it all the darkness, all the filth and wretchedness, all the lies and perversion that they come across. People who’ve forgotten God, who no longer realize there is a creator they see the fire, it consumes pieces of them which are contrary to the nature of God who created them and it hurts but once they are set free from the darkness and dross which has surrounded them they are called back to the way of truth and of beauty.
I know the old testament stories don’t look quite like this. But this, to me, is the simplified version of the long story. You’re probably saying wow that’s a stretch. Maybe if you think God is a joke you’re saying those people with fire should just leave those other people alone. Who’s to say that light is good and dark is bad? Here’s what I say: If the pagans who told the stories hundreds and thousands of years ago, stories of the underworld, of fairies, giants, banshees, mystical powers, spiritual blessing and spiritual wrath, if they believed so strongly in the spiritual that they could see it manifest in their physical lives then who are we to say they were only telling stories? Who are you to say, if I believe strongly enough, that my God, the creator of everything, didn’t give me fire so that I could discover beauty, light, and truth?
The wrath of the Lord is regularly accompanied by fire. But if good is there, if purity, if pricelessness, then the fire causes that which is pure to be brought forth while anything less is destroyed.
For the LORD your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God. Therefore understand today that the LORD your God is He who goes over before you as a consuming fire. He will destroy them and bring them down before you; so you shall drive them out and destroy them quickly, as the LORD has said to you. For our God is a consuming fire.
Deu 4:24, Due 9:3, Hbr 12:29
Friday, June 4, 2010
Man my life is hard, Day 144
In less than a week I’ll be on my way to Guatemala. Guatemala where a volcano just recently erupted showering everything around it with tons of ash. The volcano eruption was followed by a devastating tropical storm which practically buried the country with water and mud. Homes have been literally washed off mountain sides all over the country. Roads were destroyed. Sink holes were created. There are thousands of homeless people right now throughout Guatemala. As if the poverty weren’t enough already; as if the tiny mud huts with dirt floors and thatched or scraps of tin for roofing were too much to ask for; we now go at a time when things have only gotten worse.
And here I am, all week, thinking, pondering, debating, what do I NEED to buy to bring to Guatemala? Honestly all week I’ve been thinking about getting tiny containers for my shampoo, conditioner, face wash, ect;. I’ve been contemplating whether or not I should purchase some boots; I mean if there’s going to be ton of mud everywhere… I’ve been wondering if I should buy snacks for the week, and if so which kinds and if I could maybe find coupons for said munchies. I’ve been trying to decide if my current sunscreen is too old. Do I need new sunscreen? Should I buy bug spray? Do I need a raincoat or will the poncho I have do? Is it even going to rain? Ooh, I might need a neck pillow for the plane? Man my life is hard. Imagine all the inconveniences I’ll face if I don’t bring all the right stuff.
Wow, there are THOUSANDS of poor people (literally poor people) with NOTHING right now. I can’t decide what “necessities” I should or shouldn’t buy… I’ve got it rough.
Everything is meaningless, says the Teacher, utterly meaningless! Everything under the sun is meaningless, like chasing the wind. All is meaningless, says the Teacher, utterly meaningless. Here is my final conclusion: Fear God and obey his commands, for this is the duty of every person. God will judge us for everything we do, including every secret thing, whether good or bad.
Ecclesiastes 1: 2,14
Ecclesiastes12: 8,13,14
And here I am, all week, thinking, pondering, debating, what do I NEED to buy to bring to Guatemala? Honestly all week I’ve been thinking about getting tiny containers for my shampoo, conditioner, face wash, ect;. I’ve been contemplating whether or not I should purchase some boots; I mean if there’s going to be ton of mud everywhere… I’ve been wondering if I should buy snacks for the week, and if so which kinds and if I could maybe find coupons for said munchies. I’ve been trying to decide if my current sunscreen is too old. Do I need new sunscreen? Should I buy bug spray? Do I need a raincoat or will the poncho I have do? Is it even going to rain? Ooh, I might need a neck pillow for the plane? Man my life is hard. Imagine all the inconveniences I’ll face if I don’t bring all the right stuff.
Wow, there are THOUSANDS of poor people (literally poor people) with NOTHING right now. I can’t decide what “necessities” I should or shouldn’t buy… I’ve got it rough.
Everything is meaningless, says the Teacher, utterly meaningless! Everything under the sun is meaningless, like chasing the wind. All is meaningless, says the Teacher, utterly meaningless. Here is my final conclusion: Fear God and obey his commands, for this is the duty of every person. God will judge us for everything we do, including every secret thing, whether good or bad.
Ecclesiastes 1: 2,14
Ecclesiastes12: 8,13,14
Thursday, June 3, 2010
What does your “I love you” say? Day 143
Does your “I love you” say:
You make me so happy.
You bring me such joy.
You cause the sun to shine upon me.
I hear music when I’m with you.
You make me feel safe, secure, comfortable, and care free.
Does your “I love you” announce:
There’s nothing I’d rather do than make you happy.
There’s nothing more important to me than you.
Life is perfect when I know you’re ok.
I desire to sing for you.
I want to take care of you.
I think “I love you” should speak all of the above and so much more but I know that a large majority of the time the phrase seems to hang out in the first category. We tend to "love" when it makes us feel good. I don’t believe love should be centered around what someone can do for you. If you’re loving someone because they make you feel good then it sounds like they’re loving you but are you really loving them?
I say I love you a lot to Jesse but every time I do something annoying, something that I know bothers him or upsets him I’m neglecting my I love yous. I’m human, not perfect… I realize this. What I’m saying is I need to listen to what I’m saying. I need to think about it. I need to make sure I’m including all of the above and so much more in every single “I love you.” It’s not just a phrase. It’s not just a relationship one has. It’s a way of life, a heart condition, and a choice.
Te amo!
Love is not rude, it is not self‑seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
1 Corinthians 13:5 NIV
You make me so happy.
You bring me such joy.
You cause the sun to shine upon me.
I hear music when I’m with you.
You make me feel safe, secure, comfortable, and care free.
Does your “I love you” announce:
There’s nothing I’d rather do than make you happy.
There’s nothing more important to me than you.
Life is perfect when I know you’re ok.
I desire to sing for you.
I want to take care of you.
I think “I love you” should speak all of the above and so much more but I know that a large majority of the time the phrase seems to hang out in the first category. We tend to "love" when it makes us feel good. I don’t believe love should be centered around what someone can do for you. If you’re loving someone because they make you feel good then it sounds like they’re loving you but are you really loving them?
I say I love you a lot to Jesse but every time I do something annoying, something that I know bothers him or upsets him I’m neglecting my I love yous. I’m human, not perfect… I realize this. What I’m saying is I need to listen to what I’m saying. I need to think about it. I need to make sure I’m including all of the above and so much more in every single “I love you.” It’s not just a phrase. It’s not just a relationship one has. It’s a way of life, a heart condition, and a choice.
Te amo!
Love is not rude, it is not self‑seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
1 Corinthians 13:5 NIV
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
How many times can I say simplistic in 3 paragraphs, Day 142
Simplistic is anything but simple.
Since reading “Affluenza” and then attempting to read ” Walden” I’ve had this inward passion to live a simplistic lifestyle. Then I went to Guatemala and witnessed firsthand what that really looks like. The poverty there is sad and uncalled for but the simplicity of the people’s daily routines is awesome. Then I read "To have or to be?" I'm sold.
I guess the term simplistic is referring to the lack of necessities, the lack of things one needs to operate, because it isn't refering to how life becomes once you've chosen the path. A simplistic lifestyle is difficult. Growing your own food instead of going to the grocery store isn’t a simple task. Executing mundane chores like cooking, washing clothes, traveling, or doing yard work (I imagine you get the drift) without modern equipment is not easy. Simple is the last word I’d use for the aforementioned.
However, living simplistically brings one back to nature. It causes you to use your own facilities; your hands, your back, your legs, your mind, and muscles you didn’t realize you had. People who’ve chosen to live a simplistic life have chosen to view the world they live in; they’ve chosen to LIVE; they’ve chosen to FEEL. It’s not easy but the reward you receive from letting go of all the stuff that executes life for you is life.
"So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; "Therefore do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.
Matt 6:28,31,34
Since reading “Affluenza” and then attempting to read ” Walden” I’ve had this inward passion to live a simplistic lifestyle. Then I went to Guatemala and witnessed firsthand what that really looks like. The poverty there is sad and uncalled for but the simplicity of the people’s daily routines is awesome. Then I read "To have or to be?" I'm sold.
I guess the term simplistic is referring to the lack of necessities, the lack of things one needs to operate, because it isn't refering to how life becomes once you've chosen the path. A simplistic lifestyle is difficult. Growing your own food instead of going to the grocery store isn’t a simple task. Executing mundane chores like cooking, washing clothes, traveling, or doing yard work (I imagine you get the drift) without modern equipment is not easy. Simple is the last word I’d use for the aforementioned.
However, living simplistically brings one back to nature. It causes you to use your own facilities; your hands, your back, your legs, your mind, and muscles you didn’t realize you had. People who’ve chosen to live a simplistic life have chosen to view the world they live in; they’ve chosen to LIVE; they’ve chosen to FEEL. It’s not easy but the reward you receive from letting go of all the stuff that executes life for you is life.
"So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; "Therefore do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.
Matt 6:28,31,34
A Plan is not the same as A List, Day 141
I've decided that dicipline requires a plan of action.
I can say I want to lose 20 pounds but if I don't devise a plan it's probably not going to ever happen. I could say I want to go to California but if I don't figure out the details I most likely won't ever end up there.
So to answer my own question... the times when I am so strong are the times I'm dreaming a dream. In those moments I can see a beautiful picture of what I want and it's as if I could just reach out and take hold of it. The times of weakness that follow, instead of ruining me and erasing the picture, I believe, could more easily be overcome if a plan were in place.
I'm a visionary. I see things on a grand scale; always have, probably always will. I've never been much for recognizing all of the little steps it takes to get to the finish line. Today I say, "ah ha, I'm not gonna get there unless I start walking, time for the baby steps."
So now that I've realized I need to start baby stepping I just want to say that I'm sort of excited about it. This year I've been learning to enjoy each step I take. I've been learning to live in the moment. I've been learning to appreciate life, every little bit of it along the way. So this baby step, plan of action, defining dicipline thing might not be so bad after all.
But these things I plan won't happen right away. Slowly, steadily, surely, the time approaches when the vision will be fulfilled. If it seems slow, wait patiently, for it will surely take place. It will not be delayed.
Habakkuk 2:3 NLT
I can say I want to lose 20 pounds but if I don't devise a plan it's probably not going to ever happen. I could say I want to go to California but if I don't figure out the details I most likely won't ever end up there.
So to answer my own question... the times when I am so strong are the times I'm dreaming a dream. In those moments I can see a beautiful picture of what I want and it's as if I could just reach out and take hold of it. The times of weakness that follow, instead of ruining me and erasing the picture, I believe, could more easily be overcome if a plan were in place.
I'm a visionary. I see things on a grand scale; always have, probably always will. I've never been much for recognizing all of the little steps it takes to get to the finish line. Today I say, "ah ha, I'm not gonna get there unless I start walking, time for the baby steps."
So now that I've realized I need to start baby stepping I just want to say that I'm sort of excited about it. This year I've been learning to enjoy each step I take. I've been learning to live in the moment. I've been learning to appreciate life, every little bit of it along the way. So this baby step, plan of action, defining dicipline thing might not be so bad after all.
But these things I plan won't happen right away. Slowly, steadily, surely, the time approaches when the vision will be fulfilled. If it seems slow, wait patiently, for it will surely take place. It will not be delayed.
Habakkuk 2:3 NLT
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
We used to be best friends, Day 140
I dreamt that you were with me. I wanted desperately for us to be friends. I tried to keep you for just a tiny bit longer. But our friendship is impossible. We live in entirely different worlds. Even in my sad dream this was a harsh reality...
I wonder if losing someone in death might sometimes be easier than losing someone in life. And then I wonder if friendship should be a thing to be had. This could turn into several pages of rambling. But to know that someone is alive, that they're living, breathing, experiancing life; shouldn't this be a joyful bit a knowledge even if that someone is no longer apart of your life?
...And now I've become only a distant memory. This is an unsettling fact but my life goes on.
Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.
1 Corinthians 13:7 NLT
I wonder if losing someone in death might sometimes be easier than losing someone in life. And then I wonder if friendship should be a thing to be had. This could turn into several pages of rambling. But to know that someone is alive, that they're living, breathing, experiancing life; shouldn't this be a joyful bit a knowledge even if that someone is no longer apart of your life?
...And now I've become only a distant memory. This is an unsettling fact but my life goes on.
Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.
1 Corinthians 13:7 NLT
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