If I speak in tongues of men...

"If I speak in tongues of men and angels but have not loved, I am only a clanging cymbal..." is a present I received from my sister to remind me that LOVE is the goal. God had to reminder me today that love is not always a spoken language.
El Sendero closes at 10 but we usually start closing things up at 9:45. At 9:45 one our regular s walked through the door. He's a kid from one of the churches who usually comes in with a big group of kids, but tonight he was alone. I brought out his drink and said hello, but he wasn't his normal cheerful self. He looked like he could burst into tears at any moment. As he told me what was going on in his life, all I could do was nod my head and attempt to understand. I only caught about 1/3 of what he was saying... he was a believer but was struggling with living the Christian life. As I listened, I wanted some wise words to tell him, but I couldn't figure out how to speak spanish from my heart. So I just sat and listened. As I sat there I cried out to the Lord, "Give me something to say! Give me understanding!" But all I could think about was that verse in my room... if I speak in tongues of men and angels but have not loved I am only a clanging cymbal. In my listening I attempted to love. And even though I did not understand everything he said or have some wise word to tell him, I pray he heard my love.
Is my Spanish getting any better? Some days, I actually thinks its a little worse, but I'm attempting to learn the language of love.

I've never been SO at a loss for words...

Lately there has been a battle of wills… mine verses God’s. This has become a moment by moment ordeal. Will I do what God is calling me to do or will I do what “looks” right to me. The later is rarely BAD… just not what he is calling me to.

God has had to take me and show me that HE is central. I must live every moment of every day saying, “Jesus, you are central. Whatever you want me to do today I will do it – whether that means washing dishes, scrubbing floors, smiling at someone, or talking to someone about you.

Today God gave me a conversation that I’ve been wanting for a while, but it was different than I expected… while at the café today, I was doing just what I was talking about earlier… trying to keep Christ central. Washing dishes, making food, smiling at people and then He opened a door.

One of the girls that I work with, Susi is the only believer in her family. Today her cousin decided to come to El Sendero with her 2 friends and I just happened to walk up at just the right time to get introduced. All three girls were 16 and very talkative. They wanted to practice their English and I told them I would love to. We talked about where they lived, how old they were, where they went to school, the boys they like (of course, because girls will always default to boys) and then they asked me a prime question, “Why are you here?” I explained to them that I used to work with teenagers, hang out with them, love them and talk to them about my relationship with Jesus and that I was here to work at El Sendero and make friends.

Por su puesto (meaning ‘of course’… my new favorite phrase in Spanish J) they asked me if I was religious. And I told them no. I didn’t like religion because it was a set of rules… what I had was a relationship with God. That peaked some interest and so we started talking about what each one of them believed. One girl, Toa is Bahai because her dad is from Iran. The other two, Estaphanie and Amyna are both Catholic because their families are. We talked a little more and then they had to go to English class but promised they would come back and visit more.

As I sat there talking to them, I felt so helpless. I usually know what to say, or what to ask… but to be real honest, I felt speechless. I want to form a relationship with these girls, but we are worlds apart. How do I even start?

All evening I have been plagued by this thought. I know the “right” answer… to love them. But to be honest, I wonder if its enough. My heart is broken for them and I desperately want them to be loved by Jesus through me… but I think to myself, ‘Who am I?’

Even as I wrote that, God brought to my mind a conversation I had with my roommate, Kate this afternoon. We were talking about a part in Corinthians when it says that we are Christ’s ambassadors and God makes his appeal through us.

That thought blows me away… I am not a worthy vessel, but my prayer for my time here is that GOD would make his appeal through me to these people that he loves so deeply.

Harry and the green little men...

He threw his head back and let out a guttural, jolly laugh. What brought about his fit of humor? Me.
Janna was the first to meet Harry yesterday as we scrounged for a seat at a local coffee shop. We happened to sit in the two seats that sat adjacent to Harry. Janna struck up a normal Christmas conversation with him that led into what she was reading, the Bible. Harry lifted his eyebrows and said nothing more than, "Oh."
By the time I sat down, Harry was informing Janna and I how ridiculous the Bible and Christianity are.
As Janna and Harry discussed, I sat and prayed, 'Ok God, what do you want me to say? What can I say to convince this guy?' And do you know what I heard... nothing. So I sat and listened to Harry crucify my love and my relationship with God.
Finally, I just asked him, "Harry, what do you believe?" And that was all he needed to start into a hour long discourse on his belief in reincarnation, aliens and that every person decides what they are going to be, whether male or female, whether rich or poor, whether in the US or Africa. He told us that it was all for the experience. And at the end of your life, YOU would weigh out all the goods and bads and decide what your next life would be in order to mature your soul.
As we continued to probe, we found out that Harry had chosen this belief because of one specific book that made the most logical sense to him 30 years ago and he had lived by it ever since.
He told us of an aunt he had who was an "evangelical" and when asked why her views were right opposed to Buddhism or Islam she siad, "Just because they are wrong."
As we continued to converse I said, "I think it is important to keep learning... I love to learn about what other people believe... to hear about where they came from and how they got here. My prayer for you is that you would continue to search for truth." And he said to me, "I have done the hard work, I have searched and I know this is the only truth."
This same man who told me how narrow minded Christians are was himself just as narrow-minded. That's the problem, we are all narrow-minded. We all believe we have truth. But have you bothered to ask the hard questions, to search what you believe and why you believe it.
I am reading this book called, "They Love Jesus but they Hate the Church" by Dan Kimball. He talks about all the things that people in this generation find unbelievable about the church and you know what? Out of the 6 issues that Dan addresses in his book, Harry brought up 5 in the hour and a half long conversation we had. People are searching for truth, but are we willing to love, dialogue and point them to the Truth or do we just want to argue?
"You will seek me and find me when you search for me with all your heart." -Jer 29:13. Harry thought my relationship with God was cause for laughter, but I know that as I have searched for God, he has revealed his love, his power, and his truth. I praise God for the light he brought into my life through his Son, Jesus Christ and I can only pray that he draws Harry to His Light.

What's your Story?

When am I going to learn that my plans and God's plans don't always line up. Tonight I was supposed to be in Chugwater, Wyoming in order to tell my story at my college church tomorrow morning. But, between the snow and ice (see picture above), I wasn't able to make it.
As usual I ended up sitting in a coffee shop talking to someone. I found out that he was a believer since he was 19, but had just started walking with God recently. He had a great story. His life was good. He had money, success, family and a good job... but one morning he woke up feeling empty... a void only God could fill.
Then he asked for my story and as I told him where God was leading me, he vocalized his insecurity about sharing his faith. I shared with him something I remembered hearing from Voddie Bachman. He said that if HE was God, he would have sent angels to share the gospel instead of humans. There are 2 things that angels are known for saying when they appear to people in the Bible... "Fear not" and "Get up." They are SO huge and terrifying if THEY were to give the gospel, people would move in hurry. But he said that WE have something that they will never have, the song of the redeemed.
And that's what I shared with my friend the coffee shop. He has something that s angels don't have. He has his own story of how God has moved and worked in his life... and when you share that with someone, it has power because of the Spirit of the living God.
After he left, I was reading the word and came to Psalm 107. "Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, his love endures forever. Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story."
As I read the rest of the psalm, I was floored because the psalmist gave 4 different stories... just to show how each story of redemption is different.
Verse 4: "Some wandered in the desert... they were hungry and thirsty."
Verse 10: "Some sat in darkness, prisoners suffering in iron chains."
Verse 17: Some became fools through their rebellious ways."
Verse 23 "Some went out on the sea in ships... they saw the works of the Lord, his wonderful deed in the deep."

At the end of each story was the same line... "Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love." (Read Ps 107 if you get the chance...)
Your story of redemption is unique to YOU... God met you where you were and saved you through his unfailing love... You don't have to have eloquent or persuasive words... you don't have to be as massive as an angel... you just have to be willing to tell your story and let God do the rest.

He is constantly reminding me... its not about ME, it's about the Spirit of God who lives inside of me. Have you ever told someone your story?

Are you smarter than a 3 year old?

"Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. BUT GOD chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong." - 1 Cor 1:26-27

Yesterday, when I was hanging out at Starbucks, I met a little girl named Cassie. She was three years old and feisty. She wanted to show me how she could twirl, say her abc's, do a somersault (well, she didn't make it ALL the way over, but she made the effort), and count to five is Spanish. As we sat and talked (she did most of the talking) I realized that THIS must be how God sees me. All my wisdom must sound like the abc's to him. All my talent must look like a twirling 3 yr. old ballerina. Does he just humor my foolishness?

As I read in 1 Corinthians this morning, I realized, he loves my foolishness. He loves my 3-year-old wisdom. He loves it because in my stupidity, HE is given glory.

Part of what makes me nervous about going to another country is learning the language. I LOVE talking to people, and it is going to come out sounding like a 3-year-old's babbling. This was God's reminder to me that he doesn't need my words or my wisdom. "God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe." - 1 Cor 1:21b The next time you find yourself talking to someone about Jesus, thinking you sound foolish, remember that God loves using the foolishness of a 3-year-old.

The place you belong...

Is there a place you walk into and it feels like home? The aroma is sweet. You can taste it before a drop of it ever falls on your tongue. You recognize the couches, the lamps, the people… You hold that first cup, feeling the warmth on your hands. That first sip sucks you in and before you know it, you’re curled up with a blanket, journal, and the perfect cup of coffee.

Coffee is home to me, but it runs deeper than that… it’s a coffee shop. There is something about it that makes me feel like I could sit here for hours, talk to whoever comes in, drink my coffee, laugh, dig deep into the soul and just sit.

But again, it’s more than the shop… The other night as some of my friends and I were at Starbucks in downtown Charlotte, I got this feeling all over again. I realized that when I am in a coffee shop I am home. I belong there. And when I’m not there, I miss it.

It’s the people. It’s Wallis, a 40 year old man going to college for the first time to become an architect. It’s Amanda, a Swiss woman preaching the gospel on the streets. It’s a 70 year old man teaching us “new single missionary girls” how to defend ourselves with a newspaper.

That were I belong… with people. Loving people to Jesus.

The Way I See It #284
“You can’t lead the people, if you don’t love the people. You can’t save the people, if you don’t serve the people.” – Cornel West

Sounds like something Jesus would have said in a coffee shop.