Calm in the midst of the storm...

“Be still and know that I am God.” I do not sit well nor am I good at being still. So when God told me to be still for the week instead of looking for jobs and trying to figure out what I am doing next, it made me crazy. As I was reading in Matthew the other day, he gave me this:
After Jesus fed the 5000, he went away to a place to pray and be alone. He sent his disciples ahead of him and it was during that time that a fierce storm arose to toss them about the sea like a toy boat. He went to them… walking on the water. What did Peter do? In his hast to know that it was Jesus, he asked for the impossible. “Tell me to come to you on the water.” He received the answer that was the one he wanted and dreaded at the same time, “Come.” So he went, stepped out to do the unimaginable and in doing so was faced with his biggest weakness, his own fear. He barely had a chance to get out, “Save me!” than Jesus was there holding on to him, putting him back in the boat.
I felt like emotionally, I was having the same battle. But instead of waves, they were people. And I, like Peter must stand in the midst of them rushing all around me. There was an inward struggle of wanting to just run with them, but a gentle voice that whispered, “Be still.” I felt them around me, nudging, pushing, shoving… all moving forward and me standing still. Finally, I would throw my hands up in complete frustration and scream out to Jesus, “Save me! I can’t do this alone!” My eyes were opened as I looked down to see his arms wrapped around me. I saw his bruised and broken body covering mine. When I felt a small nudge, Jesus was actually taking a deep blow in my place. I thought I was getting pushed around, but really he was taking the painful beating. Through the noise and chaos, I heard his gentle voice whispered in my ear as his arms were covering my fragile self, “I will not, I will not, I will not in any degree leave you helpless, nor forsake you, nor relax my grip on you, assuredly not.”
My word from Jesus through all of this: Enjoy this time of calm, because pretty soon I’m going to call you to jump into the sea.
I think that time has come… it’s good to know I’m not alone.

To commune with the lover of my soul...

How often do you do it? Once a week, once a month, the first Sunday of every 3rd month? It might just be something you take for granted... thinking its nothing too important or meaningful. In the past 2 years, I've only had the opportunity to take it three times. So as I heard the call to Communion on Sunday morning, I could not slow my rapidly beating heart.
As I thought about the words spoken, "Do this as often as you drink it in remembrance of me..." my Lord drew me to communion with him; not just on Sunday morning but every time my body is sustained by a piece of bread or my thirst quenched by a drink of water. This is what my Father is doing for me each time I commune with him. I am allowing His broken body to keep my earthly broken body moving forward until the day He calls me home. I am letting His blood quench my thirsty and dry soul.
This Sunday, unlike any before, as I chewed slowly on a small piece of bread, I asked the Lord to be the One who sustains my life every moment of every day. As tears mixed with the juice from this small cup, I asked that He would refresh me and give me a deeper thirst for him.
Jesus, thank you for drawing us to commune with you. Thank you for not leaving us alone and in our own filth. Thank you for your cleansing power and making a way for us to be with you. Thank you for WANTING to commune with ME, O Lover of my soul!

Peace in the face of death...

In the past two days I have been overwhelmed at the prospect of death and the peace that ONLY Jesus brings.
George rode 83 miles on his bike less than a year ago on his 83 birthday. Today, he has a hard time keeping track of time due to a brain tumor that has ravaged his body. Yesterday, George described to me what it was like to have a helmet on your head as radiation pumped mercilessly in. "I laid there asking Jesus, who can I bless? Who do you need me to forgive? What do you want me to do?" Tears sprung to both our eyes as he shared, with joy on his face the testimony he has been to the doctors and nurses that have treated him. "Everyone deserves to hear a clear presentation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ." In the face of death, George smiles... neither afraid to die nor anxious of the life he lived.
Ann-Brit, his beloved wife is a testimony to me of a woman who will serve her husband at any and all costs. "Through all these years we have so enjoyed a closeness that has come with both having the same passion for the Lord and people and love of life .... I had a wish list of what I wanted my husband to be like .... George has so exceeded that list." After 24 years of marriage, the love between them is so apparent. George leaned in real close to give me the secret to marital bliss... "Now here's what you gotta do. When you wake up in the morning and his hair is all messy and his eyes are half open, you gotta say, 'WOW! I am so lucky to have a husband like you! Today is sure to be a great day!"
This is the life they lived, in love, laughter and the Lord. As they talk about George's illness and the possibilities of things to come, you see a peace come over them. There is no sense of anxiety or nervousness, only the peace that passes all understanding and the joy that one day they will spend eternity together, as best friends in the arms of the Father.
Today, my parents' friend shared with us the loss of his 7 and a half month old unborn son. I was surprised at the calm way he described laying the small coffin in the ground. "I knew that this was just a body in a box. I knew that he was with the Lord. So I told the Lord, I want you to be glorified!" As he stood over this small hole, he bowed his head to pray with his wife's family who are not believers. He grinned widely as he said, "The Spirit of the Lord came over me. I don't even remember half the things I said... but Scripture has never poured out of me like that!" As he finished, a peace came over him and it was known by all those watching. His brother-in-law commented that he had never seen anyone pray like that before.
Peace that passes ALL understanding... Oh death, where is thy sting??

Rantings of a jetlagged lunatic at 4 in the morning...

Well, jet lag is about to kill me. I guess it's my own fault since I took a 3 hour nap yesterday. Oops. I decided that this was the best time to start telling stories about what God did in Asia. For those of you who didn't know, I have been in Asia for the past 2 and a half weeks and during that time, Jesus began to heal me.
For the first week, Allison, my parents and myself taught a group of pastors, singles and widows. If I'm going to be honest, I was not really looking forward to this trip. I had been traveling, living out of a suitcase and generally being out of place for the past several months and adding one more trip, with more living out of suitcases and jet lag didn't sound good. I had planned the trip 6 months ago, so it was a little late to back out now. But can I tell you that Jesus just knows. His timing is not delayed nor is it out of place. It comes at just the right time, when you need it the most. During that time, I saw 4 singles ladies, ranging from age 19 to 51, open up their hearts and share their struggles.
Dorcus, 19 years old, was by far the shyest, and getting her to talk was like force feeding a 2 year old. But we just keep encouraging her, asking her questions and loving on her. When the time came for her to share the things she was struggling with in ministry, it was as if the floodgates had been opened. "I'm only 19 years old, I have no experience, most people don't want to listen to me. I feel discouraged. How do I get people to respect me? My parents are both sick, how can I provide for them? My father isn't a believer, how can I help?" As I heard her pour out her heart, my heart broke for her. How do I even begin to answer these questions? Anything I said, any explanation I gave seemed inadequate. But she didn't need my words, she needed to be heard... to know that Jesus had no forgotten her, that her cries had not fallen on deaf ears. So that's what we did, we encouraged her with the truth and listened to hear heart's cry.
Dorcus is just one or many women that are living in a difficult situation; wondering how to get respect, how to provide for their needs and those around them, how to truly teach the youth of today, and a cascade of other problems and questions. These women inspired me. They reminded me that its not about me, my problems or my issues, but its about Jesus and what he can do with nothing.
I don't know how to explain to you what happened next, but the Lord did something in me. I haven't been able to sit in one place or call anything "mine," so I haven't really been dealing very well with reverse culture shock. I've been crabby, angry, sad, miserable, you name it... but through this trip, the Lord revealed to me my immense inadequacy, and his continual adequacy in every and any situation.
He has flooded my heart with his truth and has begun to heal my heart from the loss that I felt leaving Ecuador. Even at 4 in the morning, I want to scream at the top of my lungs, "Your GRACE is enough for me!"

I'm afraid... Jesus, do you care?

New experiences always come with new fears for me. Before I left for Loja, I wrote out my top three biggest fears. Here they are:
1. What if I can't learn the language? What if I can never communicate my heart with the people I am there to minister to?
2. I am going to miss my family and friends so much. What if I feel completely alone every day I am there?
3. (Here's the dumb girl fear) By the time I get back from Loja, I will be almost 28 years old with absolutely NO possibility of boyfriend, let alone marriage. What if I have to do this alone for the rest of my life?

After I wrote these, the Lord spoke to me and said: I am all you need.

Now, two years later, I want to share with you how he answered each one of these fears.
1. I'm not going to lie and say that the language learning was easy. It wasn't. One day I would feel completely sufficient in my Spanish and the next day I felt like I couldn't even say my own name. But you know what? God had me start a Bible study in Spanish two months after I got there. Every week when I walked through those doors to meet with those three girls, it was as if the Lord turned a switch and my Spanish was more than sufficient to do what he had called me to. We would study His Word and I would understand and be able to respond to about 80% of what was said. The interesting thing is that He didn't make my Spanish wonderful and easy all the time... most days I would have to rely on him completely for every word that came out of my mouth, but when I was doing Bible study or sharing the gospel, it was there... so that I could share my heart.
2. At the beginning, I shared Jesus with the people of Loja because they were my "ministry." But over the months, they became so much more. I shared Jesus with them because they were such dear friends that I cannot imagine spending eternity without them. I spoke the truth of the Word with them because I loved them, not out of obligation. I can try and communicate the depth of love I have for my friends there, but mere words will never do it justice.
What does family mean to you? To me they are the people who love me no matter what, who take care of me, who will fight for me and I for them. By this definition, my family lives just as much in Loja as they do in the States.
3. This is one that I thought was too far beyond the power of the Almighty... if that's possible. But Jesus did the impossible and brought my friend of 7 years to Loja to minister along side of me. This man encouraged me, listened to me, supported me and was my best friend for the past year. Who would have guessed that the man I want to spend the rest of my life with was walking beside me for so long?

The same God who said, "I am the bread of life. I am the good shepherd. I am the way, the truth and the life," also said to me, "I am all you need." I didn't know how He was going to answer the scariest questions for me, but he did. One by one, He took care of them. One by one, He calmed my fears and said, "I am... and that should be enough."
Now my new adventure is so open it's scary. I am going back to Dallas and asking, now what?? But even in this the Lord is saying, "Give me your fears. I will answer them one by one. Fear not, for I am with you."

Out with the Old, in with the New...

As we sat on the balcony at 12:01am on January 1, 2010, all you could see up and down every street were bodies being kicked and burned. Before you freak out, let me explain. It is an Ecuadorian tradition to make "Old Years"... these are dolls dressed and made to look like YOU. At midnight everyone bring their "Old Year" out on the street to kick it, saying, "All the junk that happened last year is done... its over with and we are looking forward to something better next year." And then to seal the deal, they light the Old Year on fire and everyone jumps over it, not just once, but THREE TIMES!
Of course, we had to join in on the tradition and make a Jamie Old Year, light her on fire and jump over her (see picture above). As we saw all the fires up and down the street, I thought to myself... 'This is a picture of the Old and New Man." Like it says in 2 Cor 5:17 "If anyone is in Christ he is a New creation; the OLD has gone, the NEW has come." We say, "All the junk that happened with the old man is done... its over. I am a NEW man." And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this is what Jesus wants from us, to kick that old man... to burn him... to say to Satan, "Sin has no hold over me! Jesus has taken it away!"
I know its February and its been a while since New Year's resolutions were made, but maybe its time for you, for me to say I am done with the way of the old man. I am a new creation in Christ. I will jump over that burning old man and live life expecting the Lord to do something amazingly new in me in 2010.

Bread and wine or coffee and bagel?

Over the past 2 years, I can count on one hand the amount of times I have taken communion at church. As I sat in church this morning, I started to get excited as I saw the communion table set before the congregation. In Dallas I went to a church that took communion every Sunday and that is something I desperately miss; a time to just quiet my heart before my Creator, to think of His death and gift to me, to be silent and commune with Him.
I smiled as I held the "communion bread" in my hands... I'm not exactly sure who makes it at my church, but it has been the same every since I was a kid. It's like a moist biscuit that has been dipped in honey. And as I think of it, that is how commune with the Lord should be... something you look forward to. And then it hit me... what do I look forward to the most every morning? Hearing the whirl of blades as the smell of freshly ground coffee awakens my senses before my body even knows what's going on. What is the most common thing that I do every morning? Drink my coffee. As I think back to Jesus' day, I realize the most common thing they did was eat bread and drink wine. He could have said 'Every time you eat turkey and drink sparkling apple cider..." but that was not common. He wanted them to remember him ALWAYS. Every time that they broke bread together, every time they sat down to share a cup, He wanted them to think of His sacrifice for them. So why have I confined communion to Sunday? Why does it only come out when I'm sitting in a pew? Why do I not see communion as every time I come to COMMUNE with my Lord... and that happens mostly over a cup of coffee, not a small sip of juice?
I want to not just remember the Lord's death when the pastor says its communion Sunday, but every moment of every day... because that's how often His grace keeps me. His blood covers my insufficiency today as much as His broken body saved my soul yesterday. May I always be eternally grateful and communing with Him whether its the "allotted time" or not. Does he commune with me more when I'm holding a small cup and wafer rather than a cup of coffee and a bagel? You tell me.

Saying goodbye...

I wrote this several months ago for a very dear friend of mine…

What do you say? I mean really. You can say you’re sorry. You can say they are in a better place, but when it boils down, you have very little to actually say. So what do you do? You do. You make food, you clean the house; you make sure they are as comfortable as possible. But still, there is a loss and there is nothing you can do to hide or change it.

Is it worse to say your unborn baby has died or that you still have to give birth to him? Today I watched my friend begin to mourn and it broke my heart. Yesterday I was talking to her stomach saying, “Com’mon baby wake up! Listen to your Aunt Jamie! I can’t wait to meet you.” And today I’m holding her as she tries to understand why this little life was cut short. I can’t totally put my finger on why I was so affected by this whole situation, but I just want to say death is so unnatural. People say… ‘Ah yeah people die. It’s part of life.’ But its not! It’s not part of life. It’s death. It’s part of the curse. Jesus never intended for it to be this way. He never intended to have suffering and death. But this is what we did. Our sin caused death and this causes pain. This little one is up in heaven hanging out with the Father who knew him from conception… but we are down here asking why. He has no problem with what happened but for some reason we are trying to rationalize with ourselves how we could have changed or not changed the situation… but really it comes down to this: from the womb we were known and every day was mapped out. For this little one, Jesus only gave these 6 months of life for reasons we cannot understand. For you, you may die tomorrow or not for 50 years. But one way or another that last day comes for all of us.

That day to say goodbye was today and right now as we speak, his mama is doing the hard work of giving birth to him. But instead of tears of joy, a baby screaming and congratulations all around, there are tears of pain, sweet goodbyes and people trying to figure out what to say. My friend is so brave. She said to me today before she went to the hospital, “I don’t know if I have the strength to do this.” As I held on to her and tried to think of what to say or do, I heard my mouth whisper, “You don’t, but your Father does.”

When I got the phone call that said it was all over, my heart dropped. When I walked into her room, she reached out to me and I held on to my friend as she whispered in my ear… “It was a boy. His name is Gabriel.” Tears began to stream down my face as I realized that the little box I had passed on the way in was him. There are never the right words nor the right response… I think I’m just going to follow the example of Jesus, “Jesus wept;” so I too will weep. I will not weep over where he is, because I am more jealous than sad, but I will weep that we won’t get to watch him grow up to be the amazing man of God I’m sure he would be.

Vivi, I am sorry friend. I am sorry that you have to go through this, but know that you do not go through it alone. Your Father has strong arms to hold you. Gabriel, I look forward to meeting you one day… until then, give our Daddy a big hug for me will ya?

Do you know how much you mean to me?

Sitting in the Miami airport, I looked over at Steven and said, "What am I doing here?" I looked around and felt like a foreigner. Nothing seemed familiar and worse yet, it didn't feel like home. I hadn't been out of Ecuador for 12 hours, and I was ready to head back.
The plan was to head for Charlotte and then go visit Brookwood Church (the team that came out to do a short term mission) for the weekend. As we got off the plane in Charlotte, the feeling had not changed. In fact, I think I was more ready to go back to Loja. We quickly shuffled off the plane and headed towards baggage claim. On the way, we started wondering if there would be a SIM person to pick us up. (I was secretly kicking myself for not bringing someone's number!)
So there I was.. not wanting to be there, wondering if we'd get picked up, and tired. As I was looking around for my luggage carousel, I caught a face that I recognized walking toward me. It was Becky from the Brookwood team. No sooner had I recognized it was her that I was surrounded by arms. Dave, Becky and Kyle had driven an hour and a half to be our welcoming party. Becky said, "When we came home after 8 days, the airport was filled with our family and friends welcoming us home. And we wanted to be here for you." I don't think they will ever know how loved I felt. We pulled up to Daniel's house in Greenville to find 15 more people waiting to love and welcome us home.
You guys will never know how much this weekend meant to me. You have given me another home.

3 crazy nights... good thing I have a big God!

I have more stories from 2 and a half weeks with my little sister than I´ve had in the past 2 months. In that time, we were in Loja, in the jungle, in Quito and on the beach. We met all sorts of people and watched as the Lord took care of us every step of the way. All that to say, I have to tell you about the three craziest nights of my life.
When Janna and I got to Atacames, I had no idea where to get off or where to go. So I decided to ask the man in front of us. This man not only told me where to get off, he got off the bus with us. He then proceeded to catch us a taxi, tell the man the name of our hotel, tell the man he better take us directly there and tell us the exact amount to pay. He then got back on the bus to go wherever he was going. I think he was an angel :).
But that´s not where the crazy nights begin. They begin later. We walked around looking for a good place to stay and found what we thought was a nice place, paid the man and went in. Appearances can be decieving because that night a party started across the street that sounded like it was IN OUR ROOM. Seriously, I wouldn´t have been surprised to see the bartender IN our room asking us what we wanted to drink. Needless, the party did not stop until 3am. Ahhh... finally sleep. But then at 7am, construction started in the room next to us, in the hallway and in the room above us. It was time to leave.
So we went and looked for yet another place to stay. The people there weren´t that friendly, so when we found a very friendly hotel owner with a little mom and pop type hotel, we took it. He promised it wouldn´t be noisy. Aaah sleep... nope a party started next door and lasted until 6am.
But the next night, he PROMISED that we would have no noise... so we stayed. At midnight some kids who were staying next door started partying outside our room so I politely (ok, maybe not so politely) told them to shut up. :) At 6am, my sister wakes me up... I turn over to see the hotel owner KNEELING NEXT TO OUR BED! I sat straight up and proceeded to bombard him with questions as to why he was in our room. It was the strangest thing ever... he stumbled over his words like he was drunk or something and finally got out that our door was open. (I have gone over this part a million times and I am 99.9% sure that I closed that door... but ever if I didn´t!? What the heck was he doing in our room?!) I told him to get out of our room and we quickly packed up and left.
As we sat in the most expensive hotel in the place, we stated talking about what happened and my sister had the most insightful thought... we are very well taken care of on a normal basis. Our dad is amazing and would fly half way across the world if we were in trouble. We also both have amazing men in our lives who would bend over backwards to make sure we are taken care of... but in this moment none of them were there. They could not do a single thing to keep this situation from happening. BUT we have a BIG God who is our amazing Father who takes care of us when no one else can. Praise God for his protection on our lives...