Hope Has Come!

Yesterday I went back to my home church, First Pres, for the first time in 18 months.  How wonderful to be with my faith family once again! 

One of the songs we sang is called No, Not One, and part of the chorus says,

“There will never be a greater love,

than Your Son, no, not one,

With His life You have forgiven us,

Hope has come, Hope has come...”

Later I went to a Spanish language church with my friend and ‘holiday sister’ Amy.  It was great – although kind of funny as the guest pastor was English-speaking, translated into Spanish!  I enjoyed seeing how much of the translator’s Spanish I could understand. 

Part of the pastor’s text was Isaiah 9:6, a verse we often hear at this time of year: 

For to us a child is born,
    to us a son is given,
    and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
    Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

But, he shared something I’d never heard before.  In the original Hebrew, the names of the promised Messiah combine both human and divine. 

The word Wonderful, he said, has divine connotations in the original language.  It means amazing, beyond our comprehension, nothing we’ve ever seen or could imagine.  A Counselor is a human term, a person who gives advice, counsel, guidance. 

Mighty in the original was used to describe human strength and power, and God, of course, is God. 

Everlasting is forever, eternal, without end, characteristics only the divine can have.  Each one of us has a human Father. 

A Prince is a human word, and Peace is shalom.  Although the pastor didn’t say this, I can never forget the Perspectives instructor who defined shalom as ‘nothing broken, nothing missing’.  Truly, that is something only divinely possible!

And so, 700 years before He came, God revealed that the Promised Messiah would be fully God (divine) and fully human. 

I don’t know about you, but I absolutely love this!  The human and the divine meet together in Jesus.  

In Him, we have incomprehensible wonder combined with someone we can come to for help and guidance.  

We have God who helped remind us of the mighty strength humans can have when we live a life connected to Him.

We have a father who can make the promise to Never leave us, Never forsake us, because He is everlasting.  

We have a prince above all princes, whose coming makes possible perfect peace, when nothing is broken, nothing is missing.  

Truly, in Christ, in Christ alone, hope has come!  Hope has come!!

Mindful

Yesterday was a day of goodbyes. 

In El Callejon Sara and I spent time cleaning the site and getting it ready for the Christmas break.  As always, the little ones came to hang out and play.  I gave them sidewalk chalk, and in about 15 minutes the entire back deck was covered!  Vanessa drew a huge house for herself, complete with her mom and dad, and even a dog house. 

Sadly, I had to scrub it all away as Daisy’s getting back sooner than me, and I don’t want her to have to deal with it.  An hour (and tons of buckets of water) later, and it was clean.  I’m still not as good at scrubbing with brooms as the women here are, but another year and I just might be!

Before leaving, we walked around El Callejon, saying goodbye and lifting up the community to God.  We worry for them during this Christmas season, when lots of parties, drinking and over-indulging can cause all kinds of trouble. 

I worry especially for the little ones, who don’t have a choice about where they live, what they see, how they are treated.  Please join me in praying that God-with-us will surround them with His love and protection!

Later that afternoon we had a small ‘dessert’ to say Thank You to our semester students.  It was great to be able to ‘brag on’ Sara in front of her peers and the other site leaders. 

It’s been fun getting to know her, and to share our ‘MK’ (missionary kid) experiences.  Our personalities and ways of coping (or not!) with things is similar, and it was good for both of us to have been able to talk about that together.  I’m sure going to miss her!

From there, it was on to Mata de Platano for a Christmas Dinner with Carlos’ church there.  The same building where they have church is where we have our English class.  It is another home, another family that God has provided me. 

This time, I really felt a part of it, as I was asked to bring things for a salad.  All the women bring dishes, and I was so happy to be included!  My friend Margot (who is an amazing cook!) took the simple ingredients and made a delicious salad. 

The rest of the food was amazing, too.  Dominicans heap their plates high.  Even the little kids eat what would be considered an adult portion back home.  (Okay, a woman’s portion!  I know, guys can eat a lot!!)  There isn’t always much food, so when there is, they feast. 

As we left, filled to the brim with good food and lots of hugs and ‘Dios te bendigas’ (God bless you), I looked up to a sky filled with stars.  Thousands and thousands of them shining where there really isn’t much ‘human’ light to get in the way. 

The words of David came to mind, “When I look at the heavens, the moon and the stars which You have set in place, what is man that You are mindful of him?” (from Psalm 8) 

But, God is mindful of us.  It’s so incredible that the One who spun out the heavens with a word, loves us enough to send the Word Made Flesh.  That He has provided the way of salvation, the way of freedom from sin and pain.  That along with eternal gifts, He gives us good gifts every day.  Gifts of love, of friendship, of meaningful work. 

Yesterday was a day of goodbyes, but with each one, was the promise that ‘si Dios quiere’ (the Lord willing) we would see each other again in the New Year.  That in Him, we can say goodbye and be confident that no matter what the next weeks bring, God is in control.  The One who holds the moon and stars in His hand has carved us on His palm.  We are beloved of Him. 

So, today I’ll head to the U.S., excited to see those I said goodbye to 18 months ago.  God has kept them, He will keep my ‘family’ here, too.  “Lord, our Lord, how majestic is Your name in all the earth!”   

Leaving Home and Heading Home

I’m really excited to be heading back to the U.S. at the end of the week.  Well, truthfully, mostly excited.  It’s a perfect case of Yay and Yuck Duck. 

Yay, I get to see family and friends.  I haven’t seen my Dad and sister and brother since we were all together in March of 2011.  I’m looking forward to cousins and uncles and aunts.  To reconnecting with friends that go back all the way to Grade 3 and up to just a bit before I moved. 

To walking into a store (after parking in a big, lovely, paved, lined parking lot!) and have everything I want right there.  To having things make sense, feeling in place. 

Of course, that last one is going to be interesting!  Will I feel ‘in place’?  It’s been a long time, and I’m not the same person I was when I left.  At times I look at posts on Facebook and my first response is, “Really?!”  Yes, that’s probably true of everyone at times.  But, more and more I’m feeling disconnected. 

I’m not naïve.  I know a lot of my posts elicit the same response!  Well, that and, “Eww, ick!”, when I write about cockroaches and dead frogs! 

So, will I be able to relate, or will I joyfully hug friends and then fall into awkward silence as we run out of things to say after 15 minutes?  I take comfort knowing that over and over again God has shown me that friendships based in Him grow and even become richer despite years and miles apart.

There are Yucks, too.  I’m going from the tropics to the Midwest.  Today I walked outside in short-sleeves, and actually started sweating in the bright Dominican sunshine!  Right now it’s cooled down and I’m in a sweatshirt.  How cool?  Oh, probably somewhere in the 60’s.  See why I’m worried! 

But, the biggest Yucks are all of those I’m going to miss here.  The little ones who hang out at the Site in El Callejon, our English class, my friends in Mata de Platano, and, of course, Carlos.  I have a life, love, and meaning here, and I’m going to miss all of that.  

No, living here is still not all comfortable and easy, but it’s where I call home.  Well, part of my home.   “When are you going home?” we’ve all been asking each other.  It gets confusing.  Going home or Coming home?  The U.S. or the D.R.?

The fact is, I’m leaving home and heading home.  Because living and working cross-culturally means always missing something, always missing “someones”.  It means always feeling just a little homesick. 

After all ‘home is where the heart is’, and my heart has been split into more than one piece.  Here in the D.R., there are so many things, and so many people, I miss back in the U.S.  When I’m home there, I know I’ll miss things, and people, home here. 

I think of Jesus, who left Home to come and make His home here with us.  Did He get Homesick?  I think maybe He did. 

Our citizenship is not in any worldly place, but in Heaven.  And from there we eagerly await our returning Savior.  Until then, we live in the tension.  Maybe I’m feeling it a bit more these days, but it’s something all of us who follow Christ live in. 

It makes sense if you think about it.  Jesus lived ‘cross-culturally’ so to live like Him, we need to, as well.  Oh, not necessarily moving to another earthly place, but understanding that any place on earth is not our final Home.  Yes, we need to serve and love and pour into this place, but always with the realization that it’s not the end. 

As I anticipate God-with-us coming, I look forward to His second-coming, when we will no longer have split hearts, because all of our being - mind, body, and yes, heart, will be where we belong.  Until then, bring on the Yays and the Yucks! 

Shiny Talents

On Friday all the SI-DR missionaries gathered for a day of studying the parables of Jesus.  This is going to be the early morning Bible Study for the groups coming down on outreaches, so our leadership wanted us to know what they’d be learning.  In this way, we can incorporate what they are reading in the morning with their time with us at our ministry sites. 

We spent time alone reading through the various parables and study questions, and then in small groups.  I love studying scripture with others who are really keen on learning new things from familiar passages.  We’ve all studied the parables so many times, but to hear other ideas, other insights, was wonderful. 

Now, I know what you’re thinking:  That many missionaries together, talking about Jesus, well, the holiness must have caused a glow that lit the countryside.  Nope, sorry to disappoint you, it was nothing like that.  Although, considering how bad the power has been lately, that would have been good!

Instead, we’re just us.  On the one hand, yes, we have given up a lot to come here.  On the other, when we look at the life Jesus has called His followers to live, we’ve hardly laid down one thing.  Instead of being content to bask in the warmth of our own awesomeness, each one of us sees how much more there is to give and do. 

In the Parable of the Talents, the one who buried the talent proudly handed it back with pious-sounding words, “I return to you what is yours.”  Sounds great, right?  We give Thee but Thine own and all that. 

But, who does the king reward?  The one who went out and put the five talents to work.  As one of my co-missionaries pointed out, he risked it all.  Am I carefully guarding my one talent to return it shiny and ding-free, and never taken out of the package?  Or, am I willing to pour it all out, put it all into action, not holding a bit of it back to caress and cuddle? 

When I'm feeling like it's too much to give, it's time to look up to the cross and ask, What is that worth?

Or better, What isn’t that worth?  We have eternal life because our Savior did not consider His glory, His life!, worth more than bringing His Father glory through our rescue. 

Jesus didn’t hang out on Planet Earth, carefully keeping Himself whole so that He could return to His Father, See, I’m returning to You what is Yours!  He didn’t calculate a tithe of time to inhabit human flesh, hungering, aching, weary.  Sorry, folks, I’ve done my 10 percent, time to get off this cross!  Instead, He emptied Himself.  He poured out His very life to win us ours. 

Compared to that, my sacrifices don’t even merit being called sacrifices. 

I’m not trying to make you feel guilty.  Really, I’m not.  There’s plenty enough of that out there.  Instead, I’m inviting you to take another look at what God has given you.  You have talents – yes, money, but also skills, experiences, education, gifts.  Do they look pretty sitting on the shelf, or are they scuffed up from use? 

I can tell you from experience, the more you spend, the more you give, the more you empty, the easier it does get.  The amazing thing about how God works is that by risking it all, you find you have more and more to risk.  The man who earned five more talents was given the one of the wicked, lazy servant. 

It’s actually kind of hilarious.  The more committed I am to giving away, the more there is to give.  I can hardly keep up because the blessings keep coming. 

Holding on and being cautious actually causes even the bit we have to shrivel.  The irony is, living like this ensures that we won't even have the one talent to present to God.

Jesus said it, and He meant it, we truly do lose our life by clinging to it.  And, there truly is life, and abundant life, when we give it away.  Oh, what a God we serve!   

Gracias a Dios - A Flat Tire!!

I walked downstairs in the morning drizzle, my mind racing with all the things I need to do in the next week and a half.  A week from tomorrow, si Dios quiere, I’ll be flying to the U.S. for Christmas vacation. 

Although I’m excited, I haven’t really had much time to think about my trip, as we’ve been wrapping up our year in El Callejon.  After ‘wedding week’ last week, we’ve turned our attention to planning for 2013.  The week after we return, we have two back-to-back two weeks teams, so we need our schedules ready.  We’re also hoping to start a couple of new groups, as well as continue with the existing ones. 

So… as I said, lots on my mind!  Yesterday I had to put some air in one of my tires.  It’s one I put air in a couple of months ago, so I figured it was just a really slow leak.  This morning, however, it was completely flat.  Not a leak, a nail. 

I know how to fix a flat, but with super tight bolts, and a less than great jack, I made a call to our Director, Brian, who lives nearby.  He was already at work, but got Wilan, one of the men who works at the SI Base, to come and help.  It took a while, as he had other things to do. 

As I waited, I chatted a bit to Doña Gloria, who told me about all the robberies taking place in the area.  I talked with Maria about the rain and her son’s First Communion.  I read some of the Codgo de Trabajo (DR Employment Law) for a policy manual project I’m working on. 

And, my brain kept racing.  What about my Sara, my semester student, sitting at the Base waiting for me?  What’s happening in El Callejon?  Why is it taking so long? What does ‘nula’ mean (by then I was reading the Codigo!)? 

I tried to remind myself that I was better off than many people at that very moment.  After all, I had eaten breakfast, had lunch in my bag, was clothed – with a raincoat and boots, even!, and not in any danger.  Much of the world cannot say the same right now! 

But, it didn’t help.  I grew more frustrated, and as the rain started again in earnest, I felt mighty sorry for myself.

Wilan came, and promptly switched my tire to my bald, dry-rotted spare, and I headed to the Gomero (where gomas (tires), are fixed, as well as other minor car stuff).  As I was talking to the guy about the tire and its nail, another guy walked up and pointed at my front tires.  Sus frenos no sirven. 

I knew freno was the word for "brake".  And no sirven meant "they don’t serve", or don’t work.  This wasn’t good news.  Every so often I’d heard them squeaking, but I hadn’t given it much thought.  You’ve got about two days left, he told me.  Are you going into the mountains at all?  That last might have been a joke, as we live in Jarabacoa, which is in a valley completely surrounded by mountains!

As they worked (and worked and worked!) I sent up a prayer of thanks to God.  Because of that flat tire, I found out about my brakes.  The roads here are almost all curvy and hilly, especially the way to the airport, where I’m headed next week.  Since Jarabacoa is in a valley, we first climb up, up, up out of it, and then down, down, down, down a steep mountain road.  The thought of doing that with failing brakes… Wow, God is good!!

Of course, nothing here is ever simple!  Whoever last changed my tires used the wrong sized bolts, forcing them on so hard that one was completely stripped.  The guys spent nearly an hour trying to pry it off, and finally (with my permission) whacked it, then took a welding gun to finish destroying it.  A quick 10-minute job will now (hopefully!) be done in four hours.

I left them to it and walked home, still praising God.  I realize that a flat tire shouldn’t have got me so frustrated to start with.  The truth is, anything car-related stresses me out, since it’s all so foreign.  Add car repairs in another country and language, and it is triple awful.  But, despite all of my frustration, God allowed me to be in that situation to alert me to something far worse.   

What's true of car problems is also true of other, much bigger troubles in life.  God promises that He is at work in ALL things.  When I am going through something I simply cannot understand, I tend cry out to God to make it go away.  If He had made my flat tire 'go away' I never would have learned the danger of my brakes. 

I pray that the next time I get irritated and anxious, instead of whining, I will remember this lesson, and praise God for how He will use it for my good and His glory.  Not after the fact, but in anticipation! 

New Normal

“Ellos no están acostumbrados.”  Josie and Reynaldo were looking at my calves.  My calves, which were covered with red spots where the no-see-ems had been feasting for the past two hours.  (Oh, calves as in lower legs.  I haven’t bought any bovines!!)

When I arrived in the D.R. I was assured that within a few months the mosquitoes and no-see-ems would get used to me (acostumbrados) and stop biting.  It’s been more than 13 months now…

This morning at the gym I was looking at my calves again.  The 10+ red dots (per leg!) are still there, but they never did itch much, and since I always have a bit of a tan, they’re not even that noticeable.  When I see our outreach participants with their polka-dotted legs which swell and itch, I realize that while they’re still not used to me, the bugs don’t bug me like they used to! 

 The more I think about it, the more all of my life here in the D.R. is like that.  When I left the U.S., I naively thought that within the first year I’d go through all the stages of transition, and arrive on the other side well-adjusted and fluent. 

Well, like I said, it’s been more than 13 months, and in many ways I still feel out of place.  I still struggle with frustration (and terror!) when a moto with no lights passes on my left while I’m attempting to turn that way.  I still get annoyed when events start an hour (or more) late.  I still have days when I want to yell because I want a hot shower and there’s no water.  Not no hot water.  No water. 

But, then I think back to when I first arrived.  That first gecko running across my apartment wall freaked me out.  Now when I see a gecko I don’t pay much attention (except when they leave dismembered cockroach legs!  Thanks for helping, but come on, guys, clean your plates!!). 

I remember while I was in Guatemala learning Spanish one of my missionary friends told me that no one ever feels completely fluent in another language.  Silly you, I thought, that isn’t going to be true for me.  Silly me.  Of course it’s true!  But, I can now carry on a conversation in Spanish, mostly understanding and being understood, and that’s pretty cool.

At MTI (missionary training) we learned about transitioning into a new culture.  Once you have passed through the Unsettled, Chaos and Resettled parts of transition, you move into New Normal.   Things in your new culture make sense, you mostly fit in.  It’s not the same as it used to be, but then, you aren’t either.   

My new normal includes bug bites, geckos, and lots of strawberry yogurt (one of the only few flavors here).  It means accepting the fact that driving is not ever relaxing.  It means accepting I must stop and chat with Doña Gloria and Maria, even if it means I’ll likely be late.

My new normal also means going for long walks in the beauty of God’s creation in shorts and a t-shirt… in December.  It means sharing the love of Christ using simple Spanish words (still the ones I know best!) and allowing scripture to do most of the talking.  It means my life is richer than it would have been had I not left the comfort of my ‘old normal’. 

Like the bites on my legs, the longer I am here the more I realize that the cultural differences will never completely go away.  I also realize that in the grand scheme of things, a few red marks on my legs are no big deal.  I’m not here to be ‘normal’ but to share the Gospel, the most counter-cultural good news of all. 

Jesus left His normal, the splendor of Heaven, outside of time and space, without a single need, to come and live as one of us.  To live in a time when walking was the primary means of transportation, when there was no running water, ever, where the people He came to save rejected Him, and screamed for His murder. 

Because He did, one day we will be with Him, and our normal will be unlike anything we can imagine, with no more tears, no pain, no sorrow.  That's worth a bit of inconvenience now, isn't it?