Star Fruit and Waiting

Carlos’ sweet sister, Yineth, gave me two lovely star fruit (called carambola here) at English class on Wednesday.  I ate them for breakfast today, cut up into yogurt.   It took me less than 5 minutes to finish the delicious meal.

Getting the star fruit ready, well, that was another story!  First up, 10 minutes of soaking in water with a few drops of bleach.  After that, 10 minutes of peeling up and down the ridges with a paring knife.  (If you have a better – and faster! – technique, please let me know!) 

A 10-minute wait starts most meals.  Even if I’m going to peel it, most fruits and vegetables get their bleach bath.  I’m not going to lie.  At times, having to wait to start cooking gets frustrating. 

In fact, many days this past summer, I’d get home from El Callejon, too tired to worry about dinner.  Instead, I would just eat a bowl of cereal.  Not the worst of all meals, but hardly the most nutritious, either.

I’m learning that life here is a lot like preparing meals.  20 minutes of waiting and preparation for 5 minutes of results?  No, that’s just too long.  So, I pull out the ‘cereal’, missing the more healthy (and more tasty!) fruit that comes with patience.

Or, maybe, life everywhere is like this. We’re all so impatient, aren’t we?  We want to be in shape, but without working out.  We want to be disciples, but without discipline.  We want to make an impact, but without having to get our hands dirty.  

Life, life that’s worth living, takes effort.  We’ve allowed ourselves to be fooled into thinking otherwise.  Jesus spent 30 years living and working and walking on earth before His ministry started.  

How arrogant, how misguided we are to assume that in 100 pages and 30 days we can become spiritually mature or have a lasting, vibrant prayer life!

I’m feeling discouraged these days.  I’ve been here a year, but feel like I’ve done very little.  All my big plans for the ways I wanted to impact El Callejon for the glory of God seem stymied.

Before I came, I said that I wanted to start with a three-year commitment because I felt that I’d just be learning in the first two years, and only in the third year would I be at a place where I could make an impact. 

But, over the past year, I’ve allowed my own sense of the urgent to replace that slower pace.  Part of it, I know, is seeing the need, the suffering, the lack of hope in El Callejon.  So much needs to be done, so let’s get to it!! 

Jesus has promised we will bear fruit if we stay firmly attached to Him.  That if we seek His Father’s Kingdom and righteousness, every else will be provided.  But, the timing of it?  Paul says God, who began His good work in us, will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.  And, as Jesus Himself told us, the timing of that day is not ours to know. 

Yes, Jesus.  I wonder… During those first 30 years, was He tempted to heal someone?  Not even place His hands on them, but just do it from across the road, so no one had to know? 

Did He ever desire to multiply the food of a widow who passed by, barely able to walk in her malnourishment?  Or raise a husband from the dead, knowing of the wife and many children left without support? 

Jesus had faith and confidence in His Father’s timing.  Do I?  Ah, here is where my faith is tested.  Do I have faith to continue when nothing makes sense?  When every way I turn seems blocked?  When all the things I want to do to see God glorified seem to be failing? 

Do I have faith to declare confidence that God is at work?  Faith to wait, to prepare, but in the waiting and preparing, to keep seeking? 

Oh, Father, I believe, help my unbelief!  I am crying for Your help.  Open the doors You want me to walk through.  Keep firmly closed the ones I may be pushing against, if they are not of Your will. 

And, hardest of all, Father, help me to know how long and how hard to keep knocking on doors that for Your good and perfect purposes, are not swinging open readily.  How quickly I give up, settling for the easy when my arm (and spirit!) grows tired of knocking.  Only in Your Holy Spirit’s power can I persevere. 

Thank you that You never leave me or forsake me.  Renew in me Your love, Your strength, Your passion to see Your name declared, in El Callejon, in the D.R., in the world.

I've Got to Worship!

“I’ve got to worship.”  Fernando was leading our small group, and was tuning his guitar when I arrived.  “Today was…”, he finished with a shake of his head.  I nodded in agreement. 

I had had one of those days, too.  It had started with a mammogram that was, well, let’s just say less than pleasant (and I’ve had 5 before this, so I know there’s a way to do them that doesn’t cause someone to nearly pass out!).  

It ended with a frustrating English class.  After weeks of reviewing the verb To Be, our students still have to check their notes to say “It is a pen”.  They want to know English, but they don’t seem to want to study it. 

Yeah, I was right there with Fernando!  Others in the group had had hard days, too.  Frustrations, concerns, disappointments.  Thankfully, not everyone had had ‘one of those days’, but we all needed to refocus on our loving Father. 

And so, we worshiped.  “In Christ Alone my hope is found, He is my light, my strength, my song.”  “Bless the Lord, O my soul, O my soul, worship His holy name.”  “And, I, I’m desperate for You.  And I, I’m lost without You.”  Songs of hope, songs of longing, songs I needed to sing. 

As we sang, the troubles of the day didn’t fade away, but my perspective on them shifted.  Yes, it wasn’t my favorite day, but spending time focusing on God, on His holiness, on the gift of Jesus to break the curse of sin, brought me back to what matters.    

When life is going well, when I see God’s hand at work, when I’m tripping over the multitudes of miracles surrounding me, worship is easy.  And, it is good, it is appropriate, it is wonderful, to bless the name of God when ‘the sun’s shining down on me’.

But, last night I was reminded that when nothing makes sense and God seems far away, worship is not only good, it is essential.  

The fact is, God doesn’t ‘need’ our worship.  From eternity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit have mutually loved and glorified each other.  As if that wasn’t enough, His throne is surrounded by creatures who sing out Holy, Holy, Holy day and night without ceasing. 

But, we humans?  We need it.  We need to worship.  God knows this, and has created us with this desire.  Oh, how loving He is!  He invites us into His presence, not for His need, but ours. 

Worship places me at the feet of the One who secured our freedom, our victory.  Worship lifts my eyes from my pain and concerns, and slows down my frantic heart. 

When all around me is darkness and chaos, that’s when I need to worship.  Not as a magical way to erase my problems, but to refocus my heart.  Spending time praising God for who He is – Creator, Savior, Sustainer, Holy One, Defender… the words to describe Him keep coming, refreshing me. 

I sing of God’s greatness, of what He has done in the past.  Throughout the world’s history – and mine God has met His people.  Singing this out encourages me to trust Him for my tomorrows.

No, situations still stink, but I am reminded that I am not alone.  I will never be alone because the One I worship has promised to never leave me or forsake me.  

Today has been another challenging day, not only for me, but for several of those I love most.  When they are hurting, I am hurting.  El Callejon feels 'heavy' with spiritual pressure these days.  Even our sweet, quiet girls were misbehaving this afternoon! 

And, so, today, once more, I’ve got to worship. 

The more I think about it, the more I realize that each and every day is filled with challenges.  Each and every day has some icky stuff.  So… each and every day, I’ve got to worship. 

Oh, loving Father, Son, Holy Spirit, You are worthy of praise.  Thank you for giving me this need.  Thank you for inviting me into your presence to be renewed, refilled, refocused.  I’ve got to worship, and I’m so thankful!

Brats and Biters

On Thursday morning we have our Young Women’s group.  While Daisy works with the women inside, I attempt crowd control with their children outside. 

This past week we had a dozen kids, ranging in age from 10 months up to ten years.  I handed out coloring pages and set out a big plastic container of crayons.  Silence reigned… for three or four glorious minutes. 

Then, it all started.  Even though there were hundreds of crayons, Melisa (nearly 3) decided she wanted the crayon another girl had, and grabbed it out of her hand.  The kids of El Callejon learn early how to take care of themselves.  The other girl gave Melisa a smack and took her crayon back.  Melisa went into a fury, screaming and hitting.

Toting the baby I was holding, I stepped in and pulled Melisa away.  She was not happy, and tried to bite me.  I’ve had enough experience with Melisa to know this was coming. 

You see, both Melisa and her younger brother (almost 2) are biters.  Their way of getting their way is by hitting, kicking, pulling hair, crying, screaming, and biting.  Hard.

I moved Melisa away from the other girl and turned my back to check on another group of kids.  Dumb. Melisa jumped up and went back into action.  She grabbed a fistful of the hair of the girl who’d smacked her, and held on tight. 

I gave the baby to one of the older girls and went to pry her hands open.  Mouth wide, she alternated between screaming in anger and trying to bite me. 

Over and over again I thought I’d got her calm, only to have her go at it again when I turned my attention to someone else.     

As frustrated as I was with her, I also felt incredibly sad.  This little girl carries so much anger.  Her mother had her when she was only 16, and so doesn’t have the maturity to know how to care for her children.  Even when they are screaming and disrupting everyone around them, she hardly takes notice.  Is it any wonder Melisa acts out? 

It suddenly occurred to me that instead of trying to chase behind Melisa breaking up fights, there was another way.  I picked her up and sat down on the ground with my arms around her, slowly rocking her back and forth.

For the first while, she fidgeted and fussed.  Then, slowly but surely, she settled down.  She started relaxing, her small body sliding further and further down until she was laying along on my legs, snuggling into me, her head resting on my stomach.  Gone was the furious biter, replaced by a tranquil little girl.  All she needed, it seemed, was to be held.

As I sat rocking, I thought about how much like Melisa I so often am.  When I forget that I am beloved and cherished, I, too, ‘act out’.  Oh, I’m too grown up to actually hit and bite!  But, my insecurity does show up in harsh words, frustration, discouragement.  Although I crave love and acceptance, I, too, can act like a brat, lashing out at others.

Jesus came, He wraps us in His arms, holds us close.  It is only in Him that we can find our true worth.  He invites us to stop all of our striving and struggling and lashing out, and just be with Him.  Surrounded by His love, we can begin to relax and rest. 

When it was time to leave, Melisa was much more peaceful.  I also find that when I have that connection with Jesus, I am much more able to cope with the stuff of my days.  Not because it is necessarily better, but because I have been reminded of who I am… and in Whom I have my true value.

Next week I hope to get to Melisa before the fighting starts.  I’m hoping if she gets some positive attention, some affection, she won’t start biting.  Sadly, once a week is likely not enough to make huge changes in her behavior. 

For us, too, spending time with Jesus just every once in a while is not enough.  The world tells us we aren’t measuring up, that we need to do more, strive more, be more, each and every day. 

And so, each and every day, we need to spend time with Jesus.  After all, He came to redeem brats and biters, and sinners like you and me.   

Even If

Last night I worshiped in Mata de Platanos, the small community where I help teach English two nights a week.  Around 20 people meet in a one room house made of wood with a scrap metal roof.  Songs are sung a cappella, as there are no instruments.  It is a simple service, but filled with the Holy Spirit. 

The sermon was on the passage in II Kings where the Israelites are besieged and starving to death.  It’s a grim, horrifying story in many ways.  The cost of everything was inflated to unthinkable levels.  It’s so bad that people are actually becoming cannibals.  In the midst of this hunger and desperation, comes the prophet Elisha. 

Elisha tells the king that even though today the prices are impossibly high, at the same time tomorrow, flour and barley will cost next to nothing.  One of the officers near the king voices his disbelief:  “Look, even if the Lord should open the floodgates of the heavens, could this happen?” (II Kings 7:2). 

Meanwhile, outside the city, four lepers are contemplating their fate.  Essentially they say, “If we go into the city, we’ll die, if we stay out here, we’ll die.  How about if we go surrender to the enemy army?  After all, the worst they can do is kill us.”  Off they trudge, resigned to death. 

But, God has another plan, and it’s going to show His glory in a powerful way.  The lepers arrive, and the enemy camp is completely deserted.  God has transformed the sound of four lepers’ weary feet into chariots and horses and a great army.  Panicked, the enemy forces flee, leaving behind all of their provisions.  A feast and victory in place of starvation and defeat.

Mata de Platanos is not a wealthy place.  In many ways, the people have even less than El Callejon, which benefits from being closer to the main road, and having several missions (including SI) working there.  While their situation is not as bleak as the Israelites, most of the families in Mata de Platanos scrape out an existence day by day.

The speaker (who lives there, too) challenged them with this story.  Even if.  How often do we say that?  We say we believe that God can provide, but then we sigh and shake our heads.  We say nothing is impossible with God, but then we say He can’t possibly use us because we’re poor and don’t have a lot of education. 

God is calling all people to be a part of making disciples, preaching, baptizing in His name, the speaker reminded us.  He used four lepers who were almost dead to drive out an entire army.  He is calling each one of us to be used, too.  But the question is, do we just say we believe God, or do we really believe Him?

As I sat there, I, too, felt challenged.  How often have I said I believe God is great, and yet, my attitude and actions deny this truth?  Even if.  Even if God can save an entire city from starvation, can He change the hearts of the women of El Callejon?  Even if He used weak, sick, outcast lepers, can He possibly use me and my faltering Spanish to share His Good News? 

Even if.  The officer who spoke those words was trampled to death by the eager people.  He heard the miraculous news, but died before being able to join in the feast. 

Miracles are happening all around us.  The Holy Spirit is at work in powerful ways.  Am I joining in, or standing off to the side, missing out as I allow circumstances and doubts to trample me?  Worse, am I standing in the way?  That’s not only a hazard to me, but may hinder others. 

Today, as I head back into El Callejon, I pray that I can go with a heart open to our amazing God.  That feeble, weak and pitiful as I am, I remember that God used four lepers to route an army. 

Even if.  I pray that each time I begin to think those words I remember Who it is we serve.  May I rejoice – and join! – in the impossible work of our great God.  Surely, He is doing more than we ask or could even imagine.

What Language?

 Today two new ‘wives’ came to our Young Women’s group.  I didn’t recognize one of them, but the other was a 17 year old named Claribel.  She came to the site faithfully all last fall.  In fact, I have a picture of her from last year’s Christmas party.  She is dancing with the other teens, being silly and having fun.  I had heard she was ‘married’ but actually seeing her walk into this group was still a shock. 

Another of our teens just turned 16 and has informed Daisy that she, too, has become ‘married’ and so needs to switch groups.  She, too, has been coming to the site for a long time.  She, too, has heard us talking about how God has a wonderful plan for their lives.  We have tried to teach them that they have great value in God’s sight, and so do not need to look to a man to have worth. 

Many of these girls receive little or no attention from their fathers, who may not even live in the same community.  Along comes a man who gives them gifts, tells them they are beautiful, promises them a better life.  Their moms encourage them to go, worrying how they’ll feed another mouth if the daughter gets pregnant. 

At first, everything seems wonderful.  They come to the site showing off a new Blackberry, jewelry, talking about how nice their home is.  (This is one of the reasons we move them out of the Adolescent group.)  Sadly, the reality sets in way too fast.  Abuse, infidelity, abandonment are all commonplace.

So, here’s our dilemma… When a teen comes to us, announcing she is ‘married’, what do we do? 

Do we tell her Sorry, but after all she’s heard from us about it not being God’s will for her to move in with a man at such a young age, she cannot be with us anymore?  Or, do we just let her make the switch, simply accepting that this is ‘how it is’ in El Callejon? 

By doing so, are we condoning her bad choice, making a lie of everything she’s heard us say?  Is shrugging it off speaking the truth in love?

After they left, Daisy and I shared our frustration together.  What ‘language’ can we use to reach them?  She is Columbian, and so speaks perfect Spanish, so we weren’t talking about that kind of language. 

How do we find ways to relate to these young women that shows how much Jesus loves them (and we do, too!), but doesn’t leave them with any doubt about living in His will?

I think of our loving Father, who watches us make bad choices over and over again.  How it must break His heart when we ignore the wisdom He has given us in His Word. 

Jesus came while we were still sinners.  His blood was shed for us, for the teens of El Callejon.  He did not reject the poor, broken, sin-filled people He came to save.  He also never said, That’s okay, just keep on sinning.

Tonight I am feeling very discouraged.  Tonight I have far more questions than answers.  I feel stuck and helpless.  It doesn’t feel good, but maybe that’s the point.  Maybe I need to sit in this place of despair for a while.  Maybe it will help me understand the feelings of hopelessness many of the people of El Callejon feel. 

Perhaps it is a reminder of the humbling truth that I don’t know anything, cannot do anything, am nothing, outside of the love and power of the One who knows and loves each one of these precious girls.  That’s not my favorite place to be, but maybe, just maybe, it’s the beginning of wisdom.  A wisdom from God that can help us find His language for connecting in El Callejon.    

Arepa & Peanut Butter

Up, up and away we go!

Early yesterday morning, Carlos and I hiked up a mountain with Ramon and his son Isa, two of our English class students.  It was incredible… and incredibly humbling!

There wasn’t a single trail that led up the mountain, but several small paths, many completely overgrown.  Ramon used his machete to make a way for us, efficiently cutting through undergrowth, vines and tree branches. 

Halfway up we found this 'goat hotel'.
(Do you see a couple on the right?)
Ramon, our awesome guide & friend,
with his machete & rubber boots.

He hiked in a pair of black rubber boots.  Isa wore flip flops (yes, you read that right!) for the first half of the hike.  He then changed into running shoes – with no socks.  They both pointed out various trees and matas (plants) to us.  Their knowledge and skill was amazing, and without it – and Ramon’s machete! – we could never have made the hike.

After about two hours, Ramon told us we were at the top.  Of course, we couldn’t really tell, as the mountain was covered in trees.  We sat down to eat our breakfast.  Isa pulled a big plastic container out of his backpack and offered us some arepa. 



Isa in his flip flops... note how he's ahead of us!

Arepa is a Dominican staple.  It is sweet, with a consistency something like polenta.  It is made with coconut, milk, cinnamon, vanilla and cornmeal mixed together and then put into a heavy lidded pan and cooked in the fire. 

Ramon makes a way

I had brought along some peanut butter and crackers to share.  The crackers were forgotten as we spread peanut butter onto the arepa in our own little bit of Dominican/American ‘fusion cooking’.  Sweet, yummy, and super filling!

Going downhill was a lot harder (and longer) than going up!  We lost the trail a few times, which meant even more machete-wielding by Ramon.  My running shoes are old and the bottoms quite smooth so I felt a little like I was careening down a rainy mountain highway on bald tires! 



The 'trail' down... steep & slippery!

As I slid down yet another bunch of wet undergrowth, landing ungracefully on my backside yet again, I came to the conclusion that if I’m going to continue hiking here, I’ve got to invest in a pair of boots. 

About halfway down, Ramon found an avocado tree, filled with large, lovely fruit.  Isa kicked off his shoes and quickly climbed up.  Ramon used his machete to cut a long pole.  He reached it up to one of the avocados, twisted it around the stem, and plop!, down it fell. 

Isa in the avocado tree.

Meanwhile, up in the tree, Isa was pulling off avocados and throwing them others, causing several more to fall.  He climbed higher and higher, shaking the branches and more avocados rained down.  It was incredible! 

So, so sweaty!  And, this was only 2 hours in
& well before the tree incident!

By the time we got back to where we started, more than five hours had passed.  Unlike Ramon and Isa, who were a bit sweaty and dirty, Carlos and I were soaked, and frankly, disgusting!  

Along with the sweat, I had scratches on my arms and cuts on my hands.  Flailing around and grabbing nearby trees proved to be a bit of a problem, as many of them were covered with thorns.  (Ramon had warned us about this, but when you are free-falling, you grab what you can!) 

At one point I walked into a low-hanging tree branch and was more than a little surprised to rub my forehead and find blood all over my hand!  Note to self:  Thorns are sharp.

With this much beauty to behold... Vale la pena!

Back at Mata de Platanos, Carlos’ mom offered us habichuelas y arroz (beans and rice) with some of the yummy avocado.  It was so, so good!  Both of his parents shook their heads as we recounted our adventures.  I’m sure they thought we were crazy.  Yeah, it’s possible we are!  But, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

As I continue to figure out my place here, I am so thankful for days like yesterday.  Sure, I’ll never be able to use a machete like Ramon, or climb a tree like Isa.  Or make habicheulas to rival Carlos’ mom’s.  But, that’s okay.  I can enjoy learning from them, and sharing what God has given me. 

Like peanut butter spread on that delicious arepa, it’s in the combination that something new and amazing can happen.  I look forward to more hikes, more chances to be a part of life here in the DR.  To seeing God at work, fusing us together in ways which are more than any one of us alone, and more like His Son.  And, if anyone has recommendations for good hiking boots, please let me know!!
 

Storm Trouble

A sweet friend emailed me yesterday asking if I was okay.  I haven’t been blogging lately, which is very unlike me. 

She asked if I was having problems because of the storm.  As you may know, Tropical Storm Isaac blew past us a couple of weeks ago.  Unlike the damage that hit states like Louisiana, we didn’t have too much trouble.  A lot of rain, a lot of tree branches down, power outages, but life pretty much went on as usual.  No, I thought, I haven’t had any storm trouble. 

But, as I thought a bit more, I had to be honest with myself.  The truth is, I’ve been going through some “storms” lately, and yes, in fact, they have been causing me problems.  Some of the storms have been of my own making, others have come from 'outside'.  Some storms have been personal, others related to my ministry.     

Last night we had another strong thunderstorm (a real one).  Loud thunder, flashing lightning, lots of driving rain.  I didn’t have much food in my home, but instead of venturing out to the store, I stayed in, making do with what I had.  It meant a less-than-satisfactory dinner, but I stayed safe and dry.  (I’m hoping today is a sunny day, as I really do need to get some food!)

My desire to stay safe and dry plays out in the other kinds of storms in my life, too.  When there are conflicts and frustrations, hurts and confusion, my natural tendency is to stay in and not venture out.  Of course, I still go about my life – working, interacting, doing what needs to be done.  

But, I find myself becoming emotionally and even spiritually closed off.  How are you doing?  Fine, thanks.  I tell this lie to others, to myself, even to God.  I fool myself, pretending I can make do with my few pitiful reserves until the storm blows over.  Of course, even when it does, there’s always another one coming!    

Storms are not fun.  But, we are called to go out into them.  The world needs to see Christ-followers in all seasons.  Not just when life is sun-shiny, but when we are barely hanging on, when the flood waters are surging around us, when there is noise and confusion on every side.  

The disciples were terrified that they were going to drown.  They cried out for help, and witnessed the incredible power of Jesus, as with a simple rebuke, the storm suddenly stopped.  Had the storm never come, they may have felt safer, but oh, what a miracle they would have missed!

I cannot wait until I feel strong enough to face the storm.  The fact is, my ‘strategy’ of trying to protect myself has the opposite effect.  Each day that passes without being renewed and refreshed in Christ, I am a little weaker, a little less able to cope with thunder and lightning.  It may seem safer to stay inside, to stay on the shore.  But oh, what miracles have I been missing? 

We are invited to be still, not in the calm, but in the storm, when the mountains are crashing into the sea and the earth is sliding out from under us.  This is where we truly get to know that God is God.  This is where the world can see His amazing power to save.

So, today I am praising God for my friend’s email.  Her loving concern allowed me to take a hard look at what’s been happening to me.  And, I am praying for the courage to step out into the wind and rain.  Step out into confusion, turmoil, frustration. 

Step out, not because I am strong, but because I am weak.  Step out in the confidence that God will meet me, refresh me, sustain me.  Step out asking Him to use my storms to demonstrate His love and power to others who feel they are drowning.  Oh, Father, you are so good to me!