It's time...

On my way to school the other day, God laid something on my heart and then wouldn't let it go. My purpose for being at my job. When my job isn't ministry related, I find it easy to walk in, do my job and leave... affecting no one's life and having no one affect mine. I'm just doing my job, right? Wrong.
As I sat down to coffee with one of my friends here at work, she explained to me that every day teachers were coming into this building broken, alone and lost, only to put on a smile and act happy for the kiddos they teach. They put it all out on the line for these kids. They give their heart, soul and every bit of strength they have to teach these kids and show them the love of Jesus. So, who's putting it on the line for them?
That's where Jesus began to pull on my heart strings... to be the one who would battle for the teachers as they battle for the hearts and souls of these precious ones.
I think back to the women who have commited to praying for me. My grandmas and mom who prayed me through my childhood (and on!), my mentor who prayed me through high school, ladies in my church who prayed me through college, women who literally prayed me through my trials in Ecuador, and finally older godly women who prayed an amazing man into my life. They battled for me when I couldn't do it for myself. They may have never stepped a foot onto foreign soil or crossed paths with crazy high school kids, but if not for their prayers, neither would I.
So maybe now its my turn. Maybe I won't ever step foot into a classroom to touch the lives of these children, but maybe its my turn to go to bat for the ones who do. As I began to ask the teachers their prayer requests, I began to see what's really going on. Getting involved in people's lives is messy business, but by the grace of God I'll battle for them like some many have done for me.

Love the honesty...

Question from teacher: What's your cat's name?
Answer from 4-year-old: Heartflowerstar

Question from 4-year old to teacher: Are you Hispanic?
Answer from white teacher: No
(Puzzled look from 4 year old...)
Question: Are you black?
Answer: No
(Even MORE puzzled look...)
Question: Then what are you??

There are just a few tidbits of the conversations I have (or hear about) on a daily basis. Yesterday was a story that blessed my heart. While M'Kayla was waiting for her mom to show up with her gym clothes, she started the barrage of questions. The first of which was: what did you do before you came here. No sooner had the words, Missionary in Ecuador come out of my mouth that she launched into her 11-year-old travels.
"I've been to Mexico on a mission trip! We went to help poor children and to play with them. I have a picture of me and my friends from when we went!" She continued on in the most precious way, to tell me how her parents wanted to take her and her 2 siblings on a mission trip to Guatemala. As I listened to her and saw her face light up as she talked about her Mexican friends, I started to think to myself, How many ADULTS don't even understand this? We serve out of LOVE for friends, not out of obligation to help "THOSE" people.

I love the things these kids teach me...

Come and See!

Say to God: "How great are your works! All the earth will worship you and sing praise to you; they will sing praise to your Name." Come and see what God has done!

No news is good news. Why do we say that? Because when it comes to letting people know what's going on with us, it is much easier to gossip, speak ill of someone or say how we've been hurt. The words that come across our lips are much more likely to be negative than possitive.
As I read psalm 66 this morning, it not only said: How great are your works, it went on to TELL of his great works... how the Israelites crossed the red sea on dry ground and how God came through from them time and time again.
But it doesn't stop with the Israelite. Jesus himself said to those who wanted to know who he was and what he did: Come and See! Paul tells us to TASTE and see that the Lord is good. His desire is not that we would stand at a distance, but that we would engage with the Holy One; that we would come to the place of stepping out, jumping in and seeing with our own eyes the goodness of the Lord.
So here's to God! The One who brought the sun up this morning and gave us the coolness of morning. Here's to God: who gave us friendship and laughter. Here's to God: who is with us when things are good and when we can't take one more step. Here's to God: who without Him, my life would be in utter shambles due to my own pride and stubborness.
So I will stop loving at a distance. I will stop observing what other people are talking about and I will choose to ENGAGE. With my lips I will praise him and call others to the same: Come and see what the Lord has done!

My daddy's hand...

My dad's birthday is tomorrow, but since he is currently in China, it is tomorrow! This is my tribute to the best dad a little girl could ever ask for...

One of the most vivid memories I have as a child is holding my daddy's hand. After being pulled out of my car seat, a finger would descend in front of my face and I would grab on. I knew that wherever I was being led was a safe place because of the hand that led me. But, I always thought I was holding onto him, I never realized he was holding me. He held me when tears streamed down my small cheeks. He held me after much needed disciple and after my heart got broken.
The older I've gotten, the more I've realized that he's had to get good at not just holding on, but letting go: the goodbyes as I walked through the door of my college dorm. The long hugs before I stepped foot on the plane to Ecuador. But none of these moments will compare to the moment when he says: "Her mother and I do"... and puts my hand into the hand of another. What will flash through my memory in that instant are the moments I've been held.
Thank you Dad, for being willing to holding me with laughter and through tears... and for your willingness to let go and entrust me to our Heavenly Father. I love you!

4 stories... one theme

A big tough business guy, an ex-druggy from Kentucky, a good girl, and a west african man who used to practice voodoo. These were the four who stood up in front of our church yesterday to confess their love of Jesus before they walked through the waters of baptism.
I was amazed as I heard their stories: each unique and completely opposite, but with the same ending... Jesus saving them from their complete and utter depravity in the face of a holy and awesome God.
On the face of the first guy was a look of total control, but as he went on to describe what the Lord has done in his life, humility overtook him. He said, "Humility is not one of my strong suites, but I stand before you humbled because of God's grace."
As the next lady entered the waters with her husband, she gave a sweet testimony of how she was raised in the church and always throught her testimony was ordinary, but recently God has revealed how his grace is never ordinary. One thing I love about our church is that each one is baptized by someone who has lead them in their walk with the Lord. As the husband took his wife by the hand, I was overwhelmed by the picture of our Great Bridegroom who leads us to the waters from wherever we have been.
Up next was a West African man from Benin. English was not his first language, so it took some consentration to understand what he was saying. I know what its like to speak in front of people in your second language and it is terrifying, so I was really impressed. He shared with us how he grew up in a place where witchcraft and voodoo ran his life. He began to have a reoccuring nightmare of people flying around him while he was on the ground burning. He went to every witch-doctor and paid any price to be rid of the dream, but to no avail. Finally, he met a Christian man who invited him to church. After he had gone to church several times, the dream left him, but that did not mean that he was done with church. His friend shared the gospel with him and he came to know the saving grace of Jesus Christ.
Last, but not least was Kentucky... which was how he was announced,though it was not his name, just his place of origin. He spoke matter-of-factly about his past life in drugs and alcohol. He told us of his rehabilitation, but that it came with a lack of peace. When he moved to Dallas, he met a bunch of guys from the Village who spoke truth into his life and shared the gospel with him. This is where the straight-face stopped and the tears began to flow as his voice waved. "Jesus saved me by his grace."
I share these stories today to remind you to share yours. Whether good, bad or ugly, God has given us a story to tell, but they all should end the same, He saved me by His grace and for that, I am forever thankful!

Out of the mouths of babes...

As their smiling faces come pouring in at a quarter past seven, I am reminded of where they have just come from. One would assume that these nicely groomed children with backpacks in tote would come from the highest classed families in Dallas. They politely smile and greet me with, “Good Morning Miss Eng,” from the very smallest that stand no higher than my knee to the very oldest that are most likely taller than me.
As I listen in on their stories, I am reminded of where they actually come from. Two little girls were waiting for their mom to pick them up from school and began talking about their home life. Yes, they do share a room was the answer to another girls inquisitive questioning. For that matter, they all shared a room, but mommy got to sleep on the bed. They giggled and smiled as they said, “And it REALLY gets crowded when daddy is there too! But it’s ok because we are all squished in together!”
I am amazed at what the kids pick up on from their own family life. A fellow teacher told me of one 2nd grader who was complaining of a hurting side. His teacher asked if he had told his mom and he said, “No, I don’t want to make her more sad than she already is.” When the teacher inquired as to why, he poured out his sad tale. “My mommy is sad because my daddy left. It makes me sad too. That’s why I don’t want to tell my mommy because it will make her more sad.”
As I hear these children’s stories, it breaks my heart and makes me want to hold them just that much tighter. Their childhood is so much different from my own, but they want what every child wants: someone to love and care for them.
I overheard a little boy tell his teacher, “At my last school they told me they wished I had never been born.” The teacher put her arm around him and said, “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
This is West Dallas Community School and I am proud to be a part of it.

Creative Response to Galatians 5:1

For Bible study, we had to write a creative response to Galatians 5:1...
Here's mine:
A heavy metallic ball rolls across a stone floor, followed by the sound of chains rattling and a small humph. I am a slave. This is how it is, day in and day out. It slows me down, wears me out and keeps me from being who I was created to be. Burdensome, heavy, weighed down… I become depressed and overwhelmed wondering if there is any end in sight. I am a slave. The small moments of happiness that I do have are quickly tossed to the side and replaced by this chain that keeps me from running, jumping, dancing…
I have tried to make it pretty, build a cart for it to ride in, or just plain ignore it… but nothing works, nothing helps. It follows me around and haunts me. I am a slave.
But then He showed up. I tried to hide it, but he pulled it out in the open. Tears flowed freely as I tried with desperate attempts to explain it away. He stopped me mid-excuse, wrapped me up in his arms and said that I was never meant to be this way. In my tired state, I gave in to his arms and wept shamefully. I could feel his breath on my cheek as he whispered, Do you want to be free?
I couldn’t make my lips form the words, so I just gave a silent nod through snot-nosed sobs and handed him my chains. He lovingly took them upon his own shoulders and exclaimed, “You’re free!”From the very beginning he had never wanted me to be a slave, he wanted me to be with Him… I wanted my chains… HE wanted my freedom. It was all gone, the pain, guilt, and shame was replaced by joy, hope, and love. I jumped emphatically into his arms and kissed his cheek. What else could I do? Words could not express the thankfulness in my heart for what he had done for me.
His only request: that I wouldn’t go back. But why would I? I was a slave, now I’m FREE!

Heart Language

I’m constantly perplexed by the concept of wanting what we can’t have. We take things for granted when we have them every day, but complain when they are suddenly ripped always.
Living in Ecuador was no walk in the park. There were very difficult moments where I wanted to throw in the towel and walk away. There were moments of tears and frustration. But there were also moments of pure joy and gladness. Moments where I got to watch my friends fall more in love with Jesus or accept him for the first time.
Before I left Ecuador, I made a list of all the things I WOULDN’T miss so I could laugh, reminisce and remember that it wasn’t perfect or better than this place I am in now.
As the weeks have turned into months of living in the States, I have come to the realization that I am pulling away… not because I want to or because I don’t love my Ecuadorian friends, but because it’s safer. It’s safer to not call them all the time and not know every detail of their lives because then I can’t miss them so much.
Last night, as I was worshipping in church with eyes closed, a familiar sound came to my ears: Spanish. Steven and I looked at each other in stunned amazement as we threw our hands in the air and praised God in what had become my heart language. Tears blurred my vision as I recalled the words that had been sung and the Word that had been preached over the past two years living in Ecuador. I miss it.
I will never forget May of 2008 when I sung my first English worship song in 5 months. Tears would not stop streaming down my face as I cried out to my Creator in the language of my heart. Who would have guessed 3 years later, my heart would cry for a different language, a different people and a different city. Investing your heart in a people, a city, a country is not safe. Your heart breaks and then is permanently stuck in that place. So I guess it would be easier to play it safe, to never invest and to hold people at as much of a distance as possible… I’m glad Jesus didn’t do that and I pray I will always follow His lead.

My Sunrise

I think I am officially "Grown Up." For the past 8 years, since I have been out of college, I have never had a "normal" job. I've always worked weird hours, stayed up late, woken up late and worn whatever I want. Those good ol' days are behind us now that I wake up at 6, "dress up" every day for work and am in bed by 10. The only plus is getting to see the sunrise.
Yesterday morning as I turned on 35, the sun creapt out of the ground and its rays poured through the clouds. As my voice sang "Wholly Yours," a tear came to my eye realizing that that sunrise was for me. I couldn't help but thank him for being such a beautiful creator. I always used to say that God was in the sunset because I was never awake to see it come up, but I guess the plus of being a grown up is that I get to see the beauty in my sunrise.

Here comes the Bride...

Picture it with me: the doors fly open to reveal a grinning bride dressed in dazzling white. Her eyes are brimming with tears as she sees the one her heart loves. Her butterflies disappear as she settles into his gentle gaze. A sweet giggle escapes her lips as she takes the first step down the aisle. Her long awaited day has finally arrived. Soon they will pronounce husband and wife... Mr. and Mrs... the two becoming one.
As I lay in my bed the other day making mental preparations for my wedding coming up, I began to think about this moment... walking down the aisle toward the rest of my life. And honestly, I couldn't help but smile and giggle in excitement. I am marrying my best friend; the one who holds me when I am sad and makes me laugh so hard I think I might cry. But preparations need to be made... over the next 4 1/2 months, we will prepare spiritually, emotionally, mentally... we will make preparations for the cake, the dress and our lives. Though the preparations are many, the outcome is the same: we are married. And its a day I wait for in joyful anticipation.
As I was reading in 1 John this morning, I began to think of our future wedding with no date. The doors fly open and we, the church, the bride of Christ walk through. All nervousness and butterflies disappear as we settle into the gentle gaze of our Savior. He's been waiting for this day for so long. Instead of sauntering, I take off in a full sprint into the arms of the One my heart loves. He whispers in my ear, "I am so excited about being married to you!" This is a day we are waiting for, but right now, we prepare. We know that one day we will be united as one, but for now he calls us to this: "And now, dear children continue in him, so that when he appears we may be confident and unashamed before him at his coming."
Right now, I am Steven's bride-to-be. I have finally come to understand Jesus' impatience being united with me, the one His heart loves. I understand his jealousy for wanting all of me and no desire to share me with anyone or anything else! I understand the longing He feels in waiting for that great day when we will be ONE. Just as I can’t wait for my earthly bridegroom, I smile and my heart beats faster as I think of the day that two shall become one for eternity.