Heads to Keep My Head

I knew going into this trip it was going to be bitter-sweet. I would spend time with people I love that I do not see very often, be in a place I enjoy, but that it was also a time to say 'good-bye' and bring closure to the "European" part of my life. A friend asked where in the world I was, I responded "I'm in my other home from a previous life." And that is the truth of it. Strange as it seems, Brno is in a sense "home." But it wasn't until today that I got that deep pang in the heart; the realization that I really do love Brno, love being with Bethany and Gloria, which filled me with longing to return, but knowing that I am saying "no" to this option in life. And if it weren't for my plastic baggie of heads, I might waver in that decision.

It started as just a silly idea sparked by photos from Becca and John's trip to South Africa. Something that would be fun and hopefully get a few laughs. With Charissa's amazing help I came to Europe armed with 20+ "Micah boys on a stick." The hope was to take photos using the heads, show the boys that even though I am traveling half way around the world - they are still in my thoughts. Plus, it makes some of the photos more interesting, in a quirky kind of way. But who knew that my desire for gag photos would be providential - or as Natasha put it: "So glad you have your heads to KEEP your head." Even though I had no idea I would need a reminder of a greater love than I have for my friends here, quaint buildings, yummy food, castles at every turn, history that goes back multitudes of centuries and cobblestone streets that test my ability to walk, when I packed my Micah heads, they have been providential. Always carrying at least a few with me hoping to find an inspired shot, and the interaction on Facebook after I post the photos, has kept me tied to Micah and my heart on course. Who woulda thunk!? Ahh... the providence of God - what a blessed thing!

Only By Love

"The arms of love encompass you with your present, your past, your future; the arms of love gather you together." - Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Tuesday afternoon I sent my mother a link to a blog, that I picked up from Becca who posted it on Facebook. It was for a photographer who is on a short-term missions trip to Honduras at the moment and went with some people from the Micah project to visit the market district. I commented that I was kind of proud of myself for picking out JuanCa from the back of his head; the scar is rather distinctive.  Looking through the photos made me a little envious of this gals skills - I want to take great pictures like her! But it also made me homesick, on a day where I was already filled with longing to be in Honduras. 

Want to take a looksie at the photos? Start here.

Pretty great shots, right? Make sure to click on the link day one (part 2) to see more. 

The next morning - Wednesday - I found an email in my inbox at work, apparently I had sent the link to mom using my work email. 

"WOW...went through a gamut of emotions looking at the pictures.  From smiles to tears to ahhhh's back to tears.  I KNOW now that you have been called by God to go to Honduras.  You look at these pictures and you (Jenn)  are drawn in with your heart to the people and you ignore the streets and trash. (sorta)  I see how that could get to you and the work God has to do in a heart/mind to get beyond it.  Is there a smell too?  There must be.  These were really incredible pictures - felt like I was there, recognizing a few of the people.  Fab pic of JuanCa.  But when I saw that pic I realized the work God had done in his heart and life and the smile of a changed man. That going there means giving up the American life for the Honduran life, and loving a people addicted and dirty....not unlike the Hotel residents in  some ways.   I saw Honduras in a different way = a people made in God's image and a people God loves and children without many chances for a life without glue, needing someone to come alongside to help bring life to them. 

I trust in God's Name for you and in His promises to sustain you there and give you wisdom and His love to share with these wonderful people.  I love you so much and would be selfish without knowing that God is calling you and I would never stand in the way of what God is doing in your life. He has given you a heart sooo big it needs to be shared with these lovely people."

My mama! My eyes welled up and spilled all down my cheeks as I read that. And they still do. With her words she wraps her arms of love around me in the present, reminding me of my past, releasing me into my future, gathering me together in one cohesive whole. 

Gobsmacked!

[Sorry friends! This should have posted August 4th, somehow it got stuck in draft mode.]

I have been very privileged to travel to many corners of this world. I have seen many beautiful places in far flung locations. The glowing limestone walls of Jerusalem at sunset, the rolling hills outside Brno covered in red poppies in spring time, the Julian Alps freshly covered in snow, the thick lush green of Tryon Creek forest. Added to this prestigious list today is the countryside just outside Tegucigalpa at daybreak. Clouds were hanging low, hugging the curves of the hills, the sun painting the clouds in shades of pink and gold. The trees glinting in the early morning light. We left the hotel at 5 am to head out to Corralitos. I brought with me my IPhone, a book, a few magazines, all of which to entertain myself on the ride; none of it was needed - I just sat staring out the window in awe of the beauty. I had stashed my bag with my cameras in the back of the truck, out of reach, so I can't share the glory of the morning, but I don't think the magnificence could have been captured. It was so stunning!

By the time we arrived at abuela (grandmother; g'ma to Edwin and Miguel Fugon) Gloria's home in Corralitos the sun had been up for many hours. Three U-turns and a questionable road gave us the opportunity to take the scenic route which I thoroughly enjoyed. Abuela's house is on the side of a mountain, overlooking a steep valley and opposing hillside. The view was worth a million bucks, her house was not. We had come up here, to a spot that felt a world away from the city, to build her a new home - in a day. It wouldn't be much of a home by our American standards - an 18x20 square foot room, but for abuela - it was a palace and an answered prayer. The house she had been living in wasn't much bigger, if at all, but it was built on the ground, just dirt for floors, the wood had dry rot and was falling apart, the roof leaked so that when it rained instead of sleeping at night she would have to sit up in a corner to do her best to stay dry. She now has a home with a wood floor that is elevated off the ground, a metal roof to keep the rain out - a safe and dry place where she can sleep no matter the weather.

Today it hit me - between building this house for abuela and helping build the foundation for Ana's house - we are God's answer and provision to these two women. Our team isn't doing anything amazing or significant, we are each contributing a small effort, whatever we are capable of. Together it adds up to a house or a rock retaining wall. But that is the normal reality of the Christian life; being the hands and feet of Christ to this world. We are obedient in the small things, the trivial matters, we give what we can - and God works through that and converts it in His economy to create an answer to a multi-year long prayer and blesses the socks off these women. I don't know that I have ever been able to take what I've done in the past few hours and confidently say, 'I was part of God answering this person's prayer.'

I couldn't do much and felt pretty useless today. My hands were hurting and the wrists aching, hammering would not have been an unwise choice, but that is what was mostly needed for this project. While the post holes were being dug and the lumber carried down and put in place I talked with abuela, learning about the plants in her yard. She has her very own coffee plants! She grows her own coffee! The coffee addict in me really wished she would have offered a cup of her homegrown brew. But for a gal who harbors a fantasy to start an organic, shade grown, fair trade coffee co-op adjacent to Micah and VLM I was pretty excited just to see and touch a real coffee bush. I also learned about a different variety of cilantro than what I ever knew existed, tried raw sugar cane, and pure extracted cane juice boiled into a block. (Did you know I am allergic to sugar cane? I wasn't about to say no to our gracious host though.) I am so glad I got an opportunity to just spend time with her; she is a pretty incredible woman.

My two big highlights of the day:
1) Abuela must have been watching me roast hot dog after hot dog over the open fire for peoples lunch, but not see me eat the first one I cooked. As people ate their fill and went back to work, the crowd waning, I worked on repairing one of the roasting sticks to finish up cooking the dogs, abuela decided it was time for me to eat. She walked right up to me, grabbed me firmly by the wrist and pulled me into her home and motioned for me to serve myself some of the soup she had made. Although I had no idea what she was saying, unsure if it was totally safe or what the "meat" was, I knew she was going to be adamant, there was nothing to do but eat the soup. Don't mess with grandma!

2) At the end of the day we 'presented' Gloria with her new home and prayed for her. As she tried to express her thanks she was so overcome with emotion that she broke down crying. This strong, confident, capable mountain woman buried her petite head into Brian's chest like a child, using his t-shirt to daub away her tears.

Abuela Gloria cuts up some
sugar cane for us to enjoy.

The old

The new (almost complete)

Tears of Joy

August 1st Highlights

Today was the first day the team split into groups to cover three different areas: VBS, street/dump food delivery, and construction. My group started with a walk from the hotel to the market area where the boys who come to Friday night soccer typically hang out. There were not many today but we still quickly ran out of the baleadas. I took out my camera and they all wanted their picture taken - multiple times. I was happy to oblige. But at one point a kid who wasn't familiar to me was asking for his picture to be taken but he wanted to take pictures too, I think. I didn't pick up what he was saying very well. But Juan Carlos did and he quickly was at my side with his arm around my waist. Hmmm... something was up. I heard JuanCa say "mi hermana" and the guy looked at me suspiciously and told Juan he was lying. I interjected "No, Juan Carlos es mi hermano." I don't know what Juan saw or heard, but I am so grateful for my Honduran brother who is watching out for me and protecting me.

I had a moment of personal victory today. As I sat on the ground next to Michael Miller to eat lunch, little Nicole who had been my shadow on Saturday got up out of his lap and in a sing-song voice said "Jen-ne-fir!" and plopped herself in mine. My lap won over Michael's?!?! Remarkable!!!

I could also talk about sweet little Dulce who I played with at AFE, but I'll let a picture do the talking - once I can post it.

Home Coming

As we walked off the airplane and I looked out at the lush green hills, they were familiar; I was coming back, back to a place I know and where people know me. The customs guy was surprised that I was coming back for a third time, "You must like Honduras?" "Yes, very much, I have some special friends who live here." And as I walked out to the meet & greet area I got to hug and squeeze those special friends. It was like coming home.

The best hug didn't happen until later that day. We drove up to the Micah house for dinner and as I sat in the back row waiting for my turn to get out I heard from Mitch up front "Hey, there's Hauner!" I started desperatly trying to get the back door of the van open but my impatience was thwarting my efforts. Finally someone else got it open and I scrambled out as fast as I could, hitting Becca in the process. I squatted down so Hauner could see me around other people and set an extra bag down on the ground so both arms would be free. We locked eyes and burst into smiles and ran at each other. As I got close I leaped at him,wrapping my arms around his neck tight while he held me tight and swung my legs like a pendulum. "I miss you so much, mamí!" All night I could not stop hugging Hauner every chance I could. I've missed my boy.

My heart is so full.

Counting Down the Days

Only a couple more weeks until Honduras!

Over the last few weeks I’ve been thinking about the “why” of support raising. For those who are not familiar with this aspect of the evangelical church, it probably seems really weird to ask others to pay for a ‘trip.’ I would agree; it is a weird notion, rather anti-American as well. We value being independent, fiscally responsible, and self-sufficient. Raising support seems to be the opposite, almost downright greedy, when viewed through the American cultural lens. But how do you explain the rationale and logic if we don’t share a Biblical context? That is the crux of the question I’ve been wrestling with lately. Sure, having supporters helps alleviate the financial pinch if I had to cover the cost myself, and that is nice. But the benefit and purpose, from my viewpoint, is that I know that I’m not doing this alone. It’s the difference between an individual sport and a team sport.

 As I’m writing this I have the Tour de France coverage playing on TV. Bicycling is a unique sport in that it is an individual effort, but everyone is on a team (so my analogy may quickly break down). Each team has a “star” rider, if this person crashes the rest of the team slows down, comes around the star and helps bring them back into the pack – they are the domestiques. They’ll let the leader draft from them so that he doesn’t have to expend all his energy to get back on his own. It’s up to the star rider to catch up to the team, to put in effort, to push his limits at the finish line, but the team works together for a common goal of getting the leader to the finish line. While each rider is accountable only for himself when he crosses the finish line, he probably wouldn’t have even started the race if he didn’t have a team. The team provides the accountability to train, workout, improve technically, eat right, and be prepared when race day comes.

My analogy is getting convoluted so let me get to the point – while I could do this on my own, I do not want to, I want a team of people to come around me, support me, be my domestiques  =) , and primarily – hold me accountable. If I have people that I am accountable to, I am going to be sure to put in the hard work of preparing, of giving my all while in Honduras, pushing myself to my absolute limits and then beyond – because I have people to answer to for my choices. It is really quite humbling to ask for support, to admit that I really can’t do this alone, but I can’t – and so I am asking for your support.

There are multiple ways you can support me, the main two being financially and prayer. I received a summary yesterday of the donations thus far and I am just over half way to my $1900 expenses. The church asked that all donations be sent by June 30th – but that was a semi-soft deadline. If you believed you missed the opportunity before – don’t worry there is still time! If you would like to support me, ask for a donation form, print it out and fill in your information, follow the directions of how to fill out the check and mail it to Grace Point Community Church by Monday, July 11th. I’ll be given my final summary on Sunday the 17th and that is the real final-final deadline. Prayer support is also key and even more important than finances, even though that is what I have been focusing on. Other ways could be donations of goods or services, words of encouragement, etc.  Simply – I need your support, any which way you can give it.

Love-Laugh-Live ~ Jenn

Returning to My Heart

#63 I am soooooooooo grateful for an opportunity to return to Honduras this summer, return to my heart.

Dear Family of Friends,
What a difference a year makes! This time last year as I prepared to make my first trip to Honduras to work with The Micah Project* I had no idea what to expect and was anxious and nervous about meeting the guys. Now, as I prepare to make my third trip down, I can barely contain myself I am so eager to get back to "my boys." The Micah boys and young men have become part of my life in a way that even I didn't quite anticipate; which is evidenced by the large pictures hanging on the wall of my dining nook, decorating my fridge, the walls of my cubicle at work, along with a digital photo frame that rotates mostly snapshots of Micah, and my phone.

A week ago I wasn't sure how or when I was going to get back down to Honduras. I had been planning all year to go again with my church in August, but they had to postpone the trip. With a hope and a prayer, I contacted another church in Tigard that was sending a team this summer to see if I could possibly join them. It was a long shot, but God was preparing a spot for me on the team. What seemed like a fantasy within the last week has become reality. I am joining the team late, and now I need to 'catch up.'

Here are the particulars: I will be going with Grace Point Community Church. I am team member #19 (I like prime numbers!) - it's a large group. We will be going in the middle of the summer (for security reasons, I am leaving the dates out.). We will split the majority of our time between construction work on the new Micah home and children's ministry in the Villa Linda Miller community, adjacent to the new Micah location.  We will also join in for Friday night soccer with the street kids, and likely do some other street ministry. As always the overarching objective is to build relationships with the Micah boys and staff. My expenses for this outreach are $1900. Remember how I said that I need to catch up? Yeah... I need to have all my funding in by June 30th. I am looking to build a team of 30 people who can donate $20, 15 who are able to do $50, and 5 who are willing to give $100. If you would like to be part of my team, please email me and I will send you instructions. Finances are important, they make the plane ticket possible, but prayer is vital - if you want to be part of my prayer support team and receive updates, please email me and let me know.

Love-Laugh-Live, Jennifer

*If for some reason you are not familiar with the Micah Project, call me up, I'll take you for a coffee and tell you all about it!

Gratitude in the Midst of Crazyville

This seems to be a reoccurring  statement for me but life has been crazy for the last two weeks. It started with a stomach bug, a weird one. I felt okay, just blah, until I ate and then I wanted to curl up into a ball and die. It would wear off as the food digested, just enough to fool me into thinking I could eat again and the whole process started again. Just as I was starting to feel better Sunday last I woke up to my roommate screaming. I laid in bed wondering whether or not to be concerned; she is an expressive person, a variety things could be causing her reaction. But when I heard the garage door go up I knew there was a problem that I most certainly should be concerned about. I jumped out of bed and looked out my window to see a rush stream of water going down my driveway. Oh, not good. I hurried down to the garage to see water shooting with force from the main water line soaking everything. Sarah was just standing there, I'm not sure what she was doing. I tried to turn the one valve and realized it was on the other side of the break, it was pointless. I reached over and turned the main valve and the water stopped spewing. Thus started my adventures in plumbing for the next week and a half which finally came to an end today. I now have a new main line coming down from the street to my house and into my house. Not how I wanted to spend the renovation fund that I've slowly been saving, but necessary.
Life is like that a lot of the time. We have to do things that are necessary, but not what we wanted. My life has been like that lately. Even so, I have much to be grateful for in the midst of all the craziness that makes up my life.

46. Thankful that my dad was willing to come to my rescue early Sunday morning and has been here everyday with the plumbers.
47. Thankful my plumbing situation wasn't as dire as first thought - still not good, but not as bad as it could have been.
48. Thankful that my job allows the flexibility to work from home so I could be here when needed; even though work is it's own crazyville lately.
49. Thankful that this plumbing fiasco has provided an opportunity to know a neighbor better.
50. Thankful that I have good clean water that I can drink straight from the tap.

It is really amazing how much we take for granted: the ability to flush a toilet, take a shower, move a handle and have clean water at our disposal.  One in eight people on this plant do not have access to clean healthy water. 1.8 million children die every year from illness they contract from unclean water.
I am richly blessed.

So in addition to being thankful, I want to point you to a couple good resources:
Living Water International
Blood: Water Mission

Justice Conference - Part 3 : : Mike & Danae Yankoski : : Justice in Daily Life

I'll admit, I had some serious feelings of insignificance and inadequacy as I listened to this young couple and all that they have accomplished. They had good things to say and really got me thinking about my choices and how they effect the whole chain.

-Love is to transcend justice. There can't be love if justice is being violated. Can't have love without justice. Love is the fulfilling, completing, of justice.

-The process can be as important as the destination, the means as important as the end.

-Open you eyes! How do we respond? What is the Lord calling you to do?

-Loving our neighbor as our self means desiring/seeking their shalom.

-Characterize the journey with the flavor of the destination. {Jenn's example: If my end goal is to work with street children in Tegucigalpa who are addicted to yellow shoe glue, then my path should not include wearing shoes that use that glue, made in regions where this is a problem.}

-What are you supporting in your daily choices?

-In response to an irate demand, can we respond in love?

-When we have made a mistake, do we defend ourselves or apologize and ask forgiveness?

-How do I love my neighbor, both near and far, in my daily choices?

-What are the consequences of thinking of morality only in an individualistic way?

-We are created in the image of God to participate in the kingdom of God, not carry the weight of the world.

-As believers we are both invited and commanded to participate in the kingdom of God. The invitation is costly and will cost us everything. It is through this participation that we can find the hope of the Gospel, of life in Jesus Christ.

Mike & Danae Yankoski :: Justice in Daily Life from The Justice Conference on Vimeo.

Justice Conference - Part 1: : Ken Wytsma : : Why Justice

A couple weekends ago the roommate and I trudged over to Bend for The Justice Conference sponsored by World Relief. It was an inaugural event, so I'll admit that my expectations were fairly low. I recognized a few names on the roster of speakers but not most. The pre-conference breakout sessions were interesting but sitting all day listening to speakers in my sleep deprived state was a challenge. I loaded up on caffeine to make it through the evening; the official start of the conference. But I was so enthralled with the two speakers that evening I think I would have managed to stay awake without any chemical help. The conference as a whole knocked my socks off and sent them to orbit, it was so good. I'm still mulling over what was said, processing the insights gained; as an aide in doing so I want to post the key thoughts I picked up on from each speaker and the video. I would gladly welcome dialoguing and hearing your views on any of the topics.

First up, to kick off the conference, was Ken Wytsma, the pastor of Antioch Church in Bend. His title was "Why Justice." Below is the video of his session.
Here are some of the key thoughts I picked up on during his talk:

• Justice is mercy. 
• We can't fix the world, but we can change the world.
• Choosing to intervene and fight for justice is messy, you lose out on the benefits of a just society and have to pour your life into the mess of injustice.
• There are three reasons for justice:
• Biblical: the sense that we ought to, but guilt holds us back.
• Religious: we should fight for justice because of love, but the cost will often stop us.
• Personal: God has given us a calling, but confusion and/or fear keeps us immobile.
• Empathy comes before action, concern is part of our love.
• Service is love in work clothes - action through which love is manifest
• It is so much better to invest your life for justice, than to spend it improving your golf game. 
•  If we give our life to God and spend it on justice, we gain our life.

Ken Wytsma :: Why Justice? from The Justice Conference on Vimeo

The Phantom Critic

I feel the need, the need for speed. No, that's not it. I feel the need to defend and explain myself. To whom? No one in particular. The phantom critic, the person who has read my post-Honduras update and is bashing me for referring to Hector and Wilmer as "my boy" and questioning my "motherly love." I questioned my word choices as well. I tried to think of another way to describe what I feel towards the Micah boys, because it is not just Hector or Wilmer who are "my boys" - they all are, and that really is the best way to say it. I know, I know, they aren't really mine, truly, they belong to God. The love I have for them is most akin to a maternal love, and wouldn't any mother call her sons "my boys" with the understanding that they are her responsibility, they have been put in her care, entrusted to her by God. And that is not unlike how I feel; that God has imbued me with a deep love for these boys that is motivating me to help carry the responsibility of raising and caring for them. I just can't come up with a better word than "maternal" to describe it.
I have no desire or illusion of being their mom, they have mothers. Some are involved in their lives, some have passed away, some are absent, some are a positive influence, some are not, but they have mothers - and it isn't me (we need an equivalent of the African notion of "Auntie"). What I can be is an adult figure who loves them, just as they are, who will stand beside them through their ups and downs, a stable positive constant, teach them how to navigate life, encourage them to be their best, point them to God, training them up in the way they should go, who will continue to love them even when they throw it back in my face. Why? Because that is what God does for me every single day. It's all about the love of Jesus. Because He loves me, I need to share that love. Because He first loved me, I can love my boys. Because He loves me, and has given me this love for Micah, I will do the hard work of loving. To the boys, I'm just one of many visitors that came down this summer; I'm just the crazy gringa who spoke gibberish that no one understood, who spit water on Hector, kissed Wilmer (and others), and had a camera permanently attached to her hand - that is, if they remember me at all. Before I can be that 'caring adult figure' I have to earn the right, earn their trust and respect, prove myself, before I can speak into their lives. That will take time, years, and it won't be easy. But I am driven to take on this challenge by the love of Jesus. What other source could give me the strength to sell my cute home (and my books, which may be more painful) and move to Honduras? It's all about the love of Jesus, baby!
And there I go again, talking like it's a done deal!

This is my response to that phantom critic who lives in my head, and hopefully only there.

*One more note about Hector, "the son I didn't know I had." If I had ever had a son, I'm certain that the resemblance in personality and temperament to Hector would have been uncanny. That's all I meant.

Honduras Updates

Call me paranoid, I'm fine with that. But I didn't want to post on here about my trip to Honduras until after I was back. I didn't want it known to anyone on the web that my house was going to be sitting empty. Now that I'm back (and occupying my house, any potential robber can go away) I'm posting my pre-departure update and my post trip update.

Pre-departure can be found here:
HondoUpdate#1

Post trip update can be found here:
HondoUpdate#2

The fonts and some of the links got mixed up along the way. They are still readable, just not as pretty. And the links, well... copy & paste, my friends!

Who needs words when there are pictures:
picasaweb.google.com/stregerlady
An album for each day I was in Honduras.

Heading to Honduras Hoping for a HUG!

Click on the text to see this larger and more readable. If you would rather, I can email it to you as well.

Mission Connexion Connection

Last weekend was Mission Connexion NW, the largest missions conference in the Pacific Northwest. I was there to help staff the Perspectives booth for a couple hours which turned into most of the day. Towards the afternoon I was hungry, Ron was thirsty and tired, so we decided to head to the exhibitors room for a snack. Unfortunately we got there as they were cleaning up and the snacks were almost all gone, except for some pretzels. I really should have packed a lunch. We sat down at a table thankful to rest.

Ron asked me where I am at with missions, what I am thinking about it all. I gave some short answers, enough to satisfy if he was just trying to make conversation. But he probed further, so I took it as a sign that he really did want to know, and gushed everything that has been going on in my head and heart. Something about verbalizing it all, real connections between my mind, heart and reality started to develop. God is leading and directing, preparing me for something; what exactly? I'm not quite sure, but here is what I do know.

At the age of 16 I decided that I was meant to be a missionary. The summer between high school and college I had to memorize the following verse as part of a missions team. At age 17 I took the passage as my life verse ~ Matthew 16: 24 "Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. 25 For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. 26 For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul? 27 For the Son of Man is going to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay each person according to what he has done. 28 Truly, I say to you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.”"

My desire to be in ministry, to be a missionary has never waivered, despite all the setbacks, delays, and lack of direction.

In January 2009 a friend encouraged me to join her & her family for a spaghetti feed fundraiser for a ministry called the Micah Project. She mentioned that it was a great ministry to kids.

I like hearing about ministry to kids.

She mentioned it is located in Honduras.

Um, I had no interest in going further south than San Diego. I was interested in Central Europe not Central America. But I figured it's always good to hear how what other ministries are doing and glean ideas.

She even tried playing the single guy card, explaining that the founder would be talking at the fundraiser and he was single.

That gave me pause. I reconsidered attending, but ended up not going; other priorities took precedence over gathering more information about kids at risk from a random ministry. But Micah Project stayed in my mind, although it wouldn't come back to the frontal lobe for several months.

During the summer, as I anticipated and worried about the quickly approaching back surgery, and dreaded another birthday, I decided that by age 40 I wanted to be back in full-time ministry, preferably overseas. A book I had been reading made the point that most people knew what they really wanted to be when they were young, that it's as we became more aware of social pressures and have disappointments in life that we move away from our true calling. Maybe you're wondering what I wanted to be when I grew up; I wanted to be many things depending on the interest of the day. The most amusing, to me, was an attorney, which I can only explain by the fact I had been watching a lot of Perry Mason. But what I always went back to was running an orphanage. I'm not sure where that came from, but I wanted to provide a home for all the children that didn't have one. In high school as girls are wont to do, we mapped out our lives by naming who we were going to marry and how many children we were going to have. My answer to the second question was always, "at least a soccer team worth, " quickly qualifying that statement with "they'll be adopted." So as I thought about where and what I wanted to be doing by the big 4-O the idea of dedicating my life to loving children without family really resonated deep in my heart. To exhaust my days lavishing what love and care I have to give on them. To do my best to emulate some of my heroes of the faith: Gladys Aylward, Amy Carmichael & Mother Teresa. I recognize that with my health issues living overseas may not be wise in most peoples mind; it could aggravate symptoms, especially if I contract some other weird disease and possibly shorten my life-span. Yet we only have this one life and sooner than we think it will be over, so why play it safe? "When I go, I want to go out like Elijah" (Rich Mullins), with my boots on, not hanging on tight to the balance beam.

It is with this mindset that I started to think and pray about how to proceed. My current job allows me ample vacation time, once I build my vacation days bank back up (surgery was going to take me into the negative count), it seemed reasonable to visit two or so places a year to check them out. I didn't have plans as such, just toying with the idea of an orphanage in Africa that some friends had worked at previously, a boys orphanage/Christian camping center in the Caribbean I had come across during my seminary days, Lebanon has some interesting opportunities that my church partners with, going back to Brno, CZ seemed like the natural choice and then there was a vague memory of a ministry to dump children somewhere in South America that I could have learned more about if I had just gone to a spaghetti feed. Figuring out where to go, which ministries to consider, when to visit was something to do in the future. I just needed to focus on getting through surgery and healing, then worry about all of that stuff.

It wasn't much more than a month after I had started making all these mental resolutions that I got an email from the same friend as before, inviting me to a dessert informational time for the Wiggs family who were preparing to join the Micah Project long-term. As an added bonus one of the older guys from Micah would be there to share his story as well. I already had something on the calendar for that day and time. I hemmed and hawed, back and forth, and again, did not attend. But this time I had my mother pick up any material they were handing out. A few days later I picked up the Year End Report of the Micah Ministry from my mom and read through the whole thing. Then read it again. The ministry seemed pretty amazing, why had I been so reluctant to learn more about it before? I needed to learn more, so I started reading the newsletters and the blog with a greedy hunger for more information. My heart sunk as I read about three of the boys running away. Quickly scanning the next few blog entries to make sure they returned I was left without any news. I jotted an email to my friend, I had to know if they were still on the streets or safely back at the Micah house (they had come home). One day, plopped in front of my home computer, reading an archived newsletter, a voice spoke to me. Actually it was my own voice, but a phrase was uttered aloud before it ever crossed my mind, which never happens with my own thoughts, it had to be the Spirit who said, "This is worth giving your life to." Stunned, I seriously wondered if I was crazy. I couldn't argue though, Micah is worth giving my life to. Since that moment I have read every blog post, every past newsletter, rabidly follow their Facebook page, and, well, there is no other way to put this - stalk - the pages of the staff in hopes of learning what is going on in all of their lives, any morsel of news. And for the record, a couple weeks after the aforementioned informational dessert, there was another one that I did attend and was able to met the Wiggs. Somewhere along the way, it happened before I knew it had started, I became invested into the lives of the boys, developed a love for each one without having ever met them - except Oscar who I met around Christmas - and have settled that if this is truly where God is calling me - “Here am I! Send me.” (Isa. 6:8)
A bold claim, especially since I have yet to experience the ministry first-hand. I may be overzealous. I worry that I am misinterpreting what I see as "words" and "signs;" I'm scared of it being true, and of it not. I am looking forward to visiting Micah this summer and seeing where God leads from there.

The excerpt below is taken from an interview with Emmanuel Katongole called "From Tower-Dwellers to Travelers" an interesting perspective on missions.
"That is why we need to learn another model—mission as pilgrimage, which is based on a vision of the Christian life as a journey. This model grows out of the sense of being pilgrims together, pilgrims who feel the dust under their feet and come to know the places where they sojourn.

The problem with the world is not that we do not see others. We do. We know the needs of the world. But to feel the gifts and needs of the world—that means learning to journey with people in different parts of the world. This kind of journeying is slower than mission done as delivery of aid, slower even than partnership. It takes time just to learn the history, for example, of Gulu in northern Uganda, to learn what is happening there. But when we take time for that, it begins to transform the pilgrim. You have learned the names of people and places, these far-flung places with names very difficult to pronounce. You have inhaled the dust.

Mission as pilgrimage is about that transformation. It's not about fixing northern Uganda. You're not going to fix northern Uganda! It's not even about partnering with "northern Uganda." How can you partner with all of northern Uganda? Where do you begin? Instead, the pilgrim begins to know, to feel, that northern Uganda, with all its tragedy and terror, is a Christian story. That it is not just their story, but that it is our story." Emmanuel Katongole

LA or bust!

I would like to ask you to be in prayer for the next 8 days. I am co-leading a group of 10 students from George Fox down to LA for their Spring break Serve Trip. There are two student leaders – Evan and Lindsay – both juniors. We are going down to the Dream Center to be involved with the street outreach, night life witness, meal service, etc. The center is literally in-between the bloods and crips and we’ve been giving specific instructions to not wear black or red as these are gang colors. We also cannot go out walking and have to be with a center staff member when doing projects for safety reason. We are leaving Friday evening and driving in a frumpy 15-passenger van and making it to Grants Pass, then making the long haul to LA on Saturday. We’ll be in LA until Saturday morning when we start the return trip home in one long stretch. There are four of us sharing the driving duties but as the other three are just 21 I am nervous about their driving such an unwieldy vehicle, although they did have to pass a quiz about van safety. We had our first team meeting this past Monday. It was the first time some of them had even met. Goes to show you how large GFU has become since I went there and everyone was at least familiar with everyone else – mostly.

Please pray for us and cover us in God’s protection!

Pray for our safety, especially in driving (good weather and alert drivers) and being around the gangs.

Pray for our health and energy, that it would stay strong and high.

Pray for unity and camaraderie.

Pray for open willing hearts as we will all be way outside our comfort zones.

Pray for me for wisdom and discernment in how to lead the students.