Mobile

No, I don’t have a Bluetooth

When I’m driving I just like to be driving

And walking I just like to be walking

It wasn’t always like this

And maybe it still isn’t for a book to me is like a purse for other women and

Music had to fill all the spaces and still does some but

gazing around everyone is looking down or

off to a place I cannot see at someone in their minds eye

I avoid these distant places and people though they are very much real they are not here

Yet I am the same

wishful thinker

imagining what isn’t mine was

acting when I am to wait

waiting when I am to act

shoulding all over what is

and yet somehow He catches my eye and creates spaces

for turning

for being in a gift and seeing it for what it is

unmerited

lavish

love

And my glance up at the meandering car

with a phone at the ear and a tenuous lane

can turn into a prayer for her spaces

that these people wanting to be anywhere but where they have been placed would be mesmerized by grace

and maybe, sometime after my disdain,

I too will fall deeper into love.

Hope

hope

After talking with a social worker at a Christian medical and dental clinic with a food distribution center, it looks like we are moving forward to work in partnership to provide a transitional faith based home for women after all.

In two weeks, I’ll meet with a woman who might move in.

All the angst and discouragement was not necessary, but – maybe it was so that I could take a good, honest look at my lack of faith and where I need to grow.  I wanted to believe this would happen, it’s why I made this blog, but it’s too small a part of me.  I’ve been praying it’d get bigger.  It really can.

Instead of then feeling worse about my evidently teeny faith, the Lord showed me something reading an journal entry by a famous martyr, who died with Jim Elliot.  His name was Roger.  He writes, days before his death,
“About ready to call it quits.  Seems to me there is no future in the Jivaria for us, and the wisest thing will be to pull up stakes.  Will wait until I’ve had a chance to talk it over with Barb and see what she has to say.  We might pass Christmas here, finish the hospital in Shell, and head home.  The reason:  Failure to measure up as a missionary and get next to the people.  As far as my heart and aspirations are concerned, the issue is settled.  It’s a bit difficult to discern just what is the cause of my failure and the forces behind it.  Since March, when we left Wambimi, there has been no message from the Lord for us.  I just picked up my bible to share with the same Lord who made me a new creature in England 11 years ago.  There was no word of encouragement from Him.  He had kept us safe wonderfully, met our needs, but the issue is far greater than that.  There is no ministry for me among the Jivaros or the Spanish, and I’m not going to try to fool myself.  I wouldn’t support a missionary such as I know myself to be, and I’m not going to ask anyone else to.  Three years is long enough to learn a lesson and learn it well.  Some people are slow to catch on.  It will be tough on Barb and the children, but I’ve always been convinced that honesty and sincerity pays.  The milk is spilled – I’m not going to cry over it.  The cause of Christ in the Jivara will not suffer for our having been there, but I must be honest and confess that it has not been helped.  I don’t think it will come as much of a surprise to many and will only be an ‘I told you so.'”

He goes on like this for a few pages, but this is how it closes

“I will be led and taught by the Holy Spirit.  God desires full development, use and activity of our faculties.  The Holy Spirit can and will guide me in direct proportion to the time and effort I will expend to know and do the will of G-d.  I must read the Bible to know G-d’s will.   At every point I will obey and do.

“The week spent in Shell Mera, prior to this period, when I reiterated many times a day, ‘Thy will be done’ helped much to fortify me for this struggle.”

He stayed and died trying to show the love of G-d to the Auca tribe.

This project is much smaller in scale and not life threatening.  But to know that someone like that was on the verge of giving up, makes it a little easier to forge ahead, with smaller than the mustard seed of faith.  But He’s growing me still.

A good friend of mine recommends an acronym.  PUSH.  Pray until something happens.  That I have been faithful to.  Hoping and praying for more trust that evidences a deeper love.