Last Sunday we loaded down Lauren's suburban and my minivan with those 10,000 craft items we picked up in Atlanta and headed to I-20 West. It was a crazy week between the inventory pick up and Atlanta Fest. We were all wiped.
On Monday I began unloading the suitcases, doing laundry and running errands so we'd have food for the week. I thought we'd be staying put for a couple of weeks...but guess what?
That's right, another detour! Well, Scott had already been planning to be at this event the 28th through the 2nd, but he was going to do it solo. That is, until he reevaluated things in the office Monday and decided that Ashleigh and I both needed to come along as well.
So I put the mail back on hold, reopened the suitcases and began planning for another week away! This time we're headed to Nashville, TN and truth be told, I'm actually quite excited about it.
We're going to PCA General Assembly. Pearl Ministries is non-denominational, but Scott and I are personally members of the Presbyterian Church in America so this event is hitting close to home. General Assembly is an annual convening of PCA church leaders from the entire nation where important decisions and church business is handled. There is also a lot of preaching, teaching and a big exhibit hall full of ministries and vendors. This is where we fit in. We'll be setting up a Pearl Ministries booth with literature on our initiatives for Uganda including Kanzi Craft and Ornaments4Orphans.
I have never been to an Assembly and am very curious to witness it. I'm also excited as I'll have a more hands on roll at this event. There is a special children's program provided throughout the day which Vivian will be attending, so I'll get to hang out at our booth upstairs and talk to people! Viv is anticipating some time at "Bible School" and I'm anticipating some time plugged into one of my biggest passions-gabbing to fellow Christians about my beloved Uganda.
In the evenings I'll be hanging back at the hotel with Viv and hopefully I'll squeeze in time to post an update as well as photos of our snazzy new display!
Please keep us in prayer as this is a big event and a big opportunity to connect our Kingdom work with fellow believers. It is also going to be a busy, intense event, especially for a toddler. Pray the Lord gives Vivian some extra endurance and flexibility and that her mommy is given an extra dose of patience and grace.
We'll keep you posted!
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Pro Life?
Vivian and I make it a habit each day while eating lunch to listen to Revive Our Hearts on our Moody Radio station. It is a good midday reorienting for me, as by then I'm usually on the edge of losing my patience, sanity or joy. Nancy Leigh DeMoss always covers a wide variety of Biblical topics with soundness and conviction. This week she has been dealing with sanctity of life and the Christ followers call to be defenders and promoters of life.
As Christians, most of us are probably pretty used to hearing pro-life messages, particularly in relation to the abortion issue. Nancy addressed abortion yesterday, but she spoke about it with a little twist that I LOVED. In fact, she echoed thoughts I have been harboring in my heart for years. I want to toss it out there today for you to mull over with me.
I know a lot of Christians who are passionate about the abortion issue, as they should be. It is heartbreaking how the precious lights of countless babies are intentionally extinguished each year in our nation. Families are robbed. Our nation is robbed. The world is robbed.
But I have always felt a little unsettled in my soul at what seems to be some disproportionate passion funneled into the issue of abortion. Should we care deeply? By all means! But sometimes I feel that in our zeal for the unborn, the conservative Christian community fails to give as energetic attention to the lives of the already born.
This is exactly what Nancy Leigh DeMoss was getting at in her pro-life address yesterday afternoon. She challenged those of us who claim to be pro-life to look not only at where we stand on the abortion issue, but to also examine how we treat life in every capacity. To truly say we are "pro-life" means we have to be passionate about promoting life everywhere it can be found. Groups Nancy highlighted were children, the poor, the disabled, the elderly, those we dislike, and those of other faiths. How do we treat these people? How do we avoid them? How pro-life are we really? Can we say we are pro-life when we neglect the life surrounding us and fail to treat it as deeply valuable?
I see Christians passionately up in arms crying for the lives of the1.5 million babies aborted every year, but encounter far fewer who get emotionally heated over the 16,000 children who die of hunger every day. I see lots of bumper stickers about the value of the unborn child, but nearly none addressing the issue of child trafficking around the world.
Should we be speaking up for the voiceless unborn babies legally discarded in our society? YES. Should we be speaking up for their mothers who wound themselves by calling on their "right to choose." YES. Should we also be fighting for the millions of infants and toddlers who will die this year from preventable causes as their mothers helplessly strive for their survival? YES.
We need to be saying YES to ALL life. To the lives we cannot see and those we can. We need to be fighting equally for the lives of those in the womb and those out of it. In His eyes each and every one is valuable.
"Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of ALL who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy." Proverbs 31:8-9
As Christians, most of us are probably pretty used to hearing pro-life messages, particularly in relation to the abortion issue. Nancy addressed abortion yesterday, but she spoke about it with a little twist that I LOVED. In fact, she echoed thoughts I have been harboring in my heart for years. I want to toss it out there today for you to mull over with me.
I know a lot of Christians who are passionate about the abortion issue, as they should be. It is heartbreaking how the precious lights of countless babies are intentionally extinguished each year in our nation. Families are robbed. Our nation is robbed. The world is robbed.
But I have always felt a little unsettled in my soul at what seems to be some disproportionate passion funneled into the issue of abortion. Should we care deeply? By all means! But sometimes I feel that in our zeal for the unborn, the conservative Christian community fails to give as energetic attention to the lives of the already born.
This is exactly what Nancy Leigh DeMoss was getting at in her pro-life address yesterday afternoon. She challenged those of us who claim to be pro-life to look not only at where we stand on the abortion issue, but to also examine how we treat life in every capacity. To truly say we are "pro-life" means we have to be passionate about promoting life everywhere it can be found. Groups Nancy highlighted were children, the poor, the disabled, the elderly, those we dislike, and those of other faiths. How do we treat these people? How do we avoid them? How pro-life are we really? Can we say we are pro-life when we neglect the life surrounding us and fail to treat it as deeply valuable?
I see Christians passionately up in arms crying for the lives of the1.5 million babies aborted every year, but encounter far fewer who get emotionally heated over the 16,000 children who die of hunger every day. I see lots of bumper stickers about the value of the unborn child, but nearly none addressing the issue of child trafficking around the world.
Should we be speaking up for the voiceless unborn babies legally discarded in our society? YES. Should we be speaking up for their mothers who wound themselves by calling on their "right to choose." YES. Should we also be fighting for the millions of infants and toddlers who will die this year from preventable causes as their mothers helplessly strive for their survival? YES.
We need to be saying YES to ALL life. To the lives we cannot see and those we can. We need to be fighting equally for the lives of those in the womb and those out of it. In His eyes each and every one is valuable.
"Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of ALL who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy." Proverbs 31:8-9
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Daddy's Girl
On Mother's Day I wrote a tribute about my wonderful mother. But my mother isn't the only parent who had a heavy influence in making me the woman I am today. My father is also responsible for much of my character, both the good...and the ill. So in honor of Father's Day here is a little something about my daddy.....
It was 2003 and my dad and I were standing in line for the passport counter at the Peachtree City post office. I was a nineteen year old college sophomore who had never set foot out of America, but in a few short weeks I'd be boarding a plane for Entebbe, Uganda. I was too excited to be nervous and too inexperienced to imagine that my parents could possibly feel any issue at all with my desire to trek halfway across the globe.
I was called. Period.
I had spent the last year of my life preparing for this trip to Africa and I was sure that God had my future tied up somewhere on that space of earth.
That's when my daddy looked over at me and said something I'll never forget.
"Jamie," he said, "Sometimes I have asked God why He had to call you to Africa, why you couldn't have been sent somewhere else. But on the day you were born I lifted you up to the Lord and gave your life back to Him. So if He wants you in Africa, then I support it."
That was the end of it and no more was said. At the time I did not comprehend the tremendous gift locked inside those words. Nor did either of us have any notion of how my dad's willingness to give his teenage daughter away would give birth to a multicolored family that would span the Atlantic ocean.
Months later when I stepped off the plane from Africa, jet lagged, bleary eyed and a good bit wiser the first thing I said to my dad was, "There is an orphanage that needs saving."
His response?
"OK."
And he has been more than OK ever since. Truthfully, I wasn't surprised. That's just my dad. It took me a bit more time in the "grown up world" to realize that not all fathers so freely relinquish their offspring, or enthusiastically support them when they want to do something so utterly consuming and possibly impossible. One thing I have discovered as I have ventured on in my 20's: My dad is pretty remarkable.
He is a giver. A giver of funds, of things, of time, of advice, and of himself.
My dad is a talker, and though delighting in his daughters, he has never been quick to say what was pressing on his heart. His compliments and confessions were always like scraps of gold to be tucked in my pocket and treasured for years. And as I grew I learned to listen in other ways. For what he was saying might not have flown comfortably off of his tongue but came through loudly in what he did for us, what he shared with us and how he lived with us.
My dad talks about missing much of our childhood by travelling a lot for work, but he stars...for good or ill... in so many of my crucial memories that it is hard to imagine him being gone. I remember his unbridled joy in scheming to surprise my sister and I with tickets to Broadway shows. The most extreme was the time he broke my ten year old heart in the lobby of the Kennedy Center by telling me that Phantom of the Opera was sold out...only to have me moments later pull four tickets out of his sock. There was the spring of 5th grade when our class planned a trip to Six Flags and my dad took me on a special trip a month before to help me conquer my fear of roller coasters so I wouldn't look lame in front of my friends. (After 4 hours in the park I think I only rode 2 fairly mild things...) In 8th grade when I determined I needed to play basketball to further develop my social identity, my dad stayed up with me at night coaching me on my free throw and trying to bleed the ballerina out of my sports style. Let's just say, I didn't make the team. But my dad had already bought me a super cool pair of basketball shoes anyway.
He bore with my whims, supported my dreams, and often allowed me to venture forward rather than crushing me before I even tried. This taught me to try many things, aim high and believe in my capabilities. Because I knew that even though my dad was letting me venture out of the nest, he was right there to support and encourage me.
He never babied me, though. He was compassionate, involved and connected with what I did. But he understood that life was hard. In order to grow into the godly woman he wanted me to be I needed to learn many lessons on my own, fail, be disappointed, hurt and confused. He stressed in every teenage crisis and childhood drama that what mattered most was not being popular or successful in the world. What mattered most was what God could see, the inner working of my character and obedience to Biblical conviction.
And he backed this teaching up with the integrity of his own life. My daddy was always vocal for truth, never compromising...even when it meant losing face, and mindful that what mattered most was not his own reputation, but the the reputation and Name of the Mighty One. In this he found great satisfaction, which assured me that whatever it might cost, the reward was priceless.
Although he failed us and hurt us in many ways, my father is the first one to be honest about the ugly spots in our history. His bravery to confess his sin and commitment to growth in his own life has cleared a path for me to find safety and freedom in truth. That to be strong often means exposing our weaknesses and asking for grace. I have seen his grace poured out to me countless times, and I have also been privileged to show grace toward him.
The legacy I gained from my dad is one of deep conviction, strong opinions and intense emotions. Neither of us are easy people. This is part of my inheritance. But I can also confidently say that if you needed the shirt on our back it would be yours gladly...free of charge, whether we agreed with you or not. And though on the outside we may at times appear distant or hard, our love runs so deep underneath that it often causes us pain. I feel I can finally understand now why my daddy is so often misjudged, misunderstood and under appreciated. I understand it because my apple hasn't fallen far from his tree.
But I am proud of the relentless woman he pushed me to be. I am proud that I now believe it is better to speak the truth in love than to be liked. It is better to give quietly than to receive admiration. In fact I believe I only know the tip of the ice burg when it comes to all my father has done for others.
That day at the post office wasn't the first time I'd heard that story about being given to the Lord on the day I was born. I'd heard it on numerous occasions, usually during times when my dad was trying to instill something rich and pivotal in my little heart. The knowledge that life in all of its entirety was far bigger than him or me or any other individual, and while we may foolishly hang onto those things which we think we need, every one of those things was a gift from the Father above and gains its greatest power when it is surrendered back to Him.
I think my daddy still struggles to let me go to the hands of God, fearing for our financial stability and worrying a little too much about what we don't have. Yet as much as he prods us to be careful and scolds us when he feels we too freely give out of our tiny storehouse, HE is the very one who fashioned me to be the giver I am today. My father's willingness to give me away has been a small little image of the gospel played out with powerful consequences. Because he opened his hands they were filled with dozens of other blessings, the lives of children longing for a giver to pour into them.
When I think and pray for each one of my children I make a conscious effort to open my hands and give their lives up to the Lord. I see now that this isn't easy, but my prayer is that that sacrifice will bear fruit in their lives the same way my father's sacrifice has born fruit in mine.
It was 2003 and my dad and I were standing in line for the passport counter at the Peachtree City post office. I was a nineteen year old college sophomore who had never set foot out of America, but in a few short weeks I'd be boarding a plane for Entebbe, Uganda. I was too excited to be nervous and too inexperienced to imagine that my parents could possibly feel any issue at all with my desire to trek halfway across the globe.
I was called. Period.
I had spent the last year of my life preparing for this trip to Africa and I was sure that God had my future tied up somewhere on that space of earth.
That's when my daddy looked over at me and said something I'll never forget.
"Jamie," he said, "Sometimes I have asked God why He had to call you to Africa, why you couldn't have been sent somewhere else. But on the day you were born I lifted you up to the Lord and gave your life back to Him. So if He wants you in Africa, then I support it."
That was the end of it and no more was said. At the time I did not comprehend the tremendous gift locked inside those words. Nor did either of us have any notion of how my dad's willingness to give his teenage daughter away would give birth to a multicolored family that would span the Atlantic ocean.
Months later when I stepped off the plane from Africa, jet lagged, bleary eyed and a good bit wiser the first thing I said to my dad was, "There is an orphanage that needs saving."
His response?
"OK."
And he has been more than OK ever since. Truthfully, I wasn't surprised. That's just my dad. It took me a bit more time in the "grown up world" to realize that not all fathers so freely relinquish their offspring, or enthusiastically support them when they want to do something so utterly consuming and possibly impossible. One thing I have discovered as I have ventured on in my 20's: My dad is pretty remarkable.
He is a giver. A giver of funds, of things, of time, of advice, and of himself.
My mom and dad with Agnes Namawejje, their sponsored child at Ranch, for whom they bought a prosthetic leg back in 2006.
As a giver my dad has given me many things. But the most precious ones haven't been material.
My dad is a talker, and though delighting in his daughters, he has never been quick to say what was pressing on his heart. His compliments and confessions were always like scraps of gold to be tucked in my pocket and treasured for years. And as I grew I learned to listen in other ways. For what he was saying might not have flown comfortably off of his tongue but came through loudly in what he did for us, what he shared with us and how he lived with us.
My dad talks about missing much of our childhood by travelling a lot for work, but he stars...for good or ill... in so many of my crucial memories that it is hard to imagine him being gone. I remember his unbridled joy in scheming to surprise my sister and I with tickets to Broadway shows. The most extreme was the time he broke my ten year old heart in the lobby of the Kennedy Center by telling me that Phantom of the Opera was sold out...only to have me moments later pull four tickets out of his sock. There was the spring of 5th grade when our class planned a trip to Six Flags and my dad took me on a special trip a month before to help me conquer my fear of roller coasters so I wouldn't look lame in front of my friends. (After 4 hours in the park I think I only rode 2 fairly mild things...) In 8th grade when I determined I needed to play basketball to further develop my social identity, my dad stayed up with me at night coaching me on my free throw and trying to bleed the ballerina out of my sports style. Let's just say, I didn't make the team. But my dad had already bought me a super cool pair of basketball shoes anyway.
He bore with my whims, supported my dreams, and often allowed me to venture forward rather than crushing me before I even tried. This taught me to try many things, aim high and believe in my capabilities. Because I knew that even though my dad was letting me venture out of the nest, he was right there to support and encourage me.
He never babied me, though. He was compassionate, involved and connected with what I did. But he understood that life was hard. In order to grow into the godly woman he wanted me to be I needed to learn many lessons on my own, fail, be disappointed, hurt and confused. He stressed in every teenage crisis and childhood drama that what mattered most was not being popular or successful in the world. What mattered most was what God could see, the inner working of my character and obedience to Biblical conviction.
And he backed this teaching up with the integrity of his own life. My daddy was always vocal for truth, never compromising...even when it meant losing face, and mindful that what mattered most was not his own reputation, but the the reputation and Name of the Mighty One. In this he found great satisfaction, which assured me that whatever it might cost, the reward was priceless.
Although he failed us and hurt us in many ways, my father is the first one to be honest about the ugly spots in our history. His bravery to confess his sin and commitment to growth in his own life has cleared a path for me to find safety and freedom in truth. That to be strong often means exposing our weaknesses and asking for grace. I have seen his grace poured out to me countless times, and I have also been privileged to show grace toward him.
The legacy I gained from my dad is one of deep conviction, strong opinions and intense emotions. Neither of us are easy people. This is part of my inheritance. But I can also confidently say that if you needed the shirt on our back it would be yours gladly...free of charge, whether we agreed with you or not. And though on the outside we may at times appear distant or hard, our love runs so deep underneath that it often causes us pain. I feel I can finally understand now why my daddy is so often misjudged, misunderstood and under appreciated. I understand it because my apple hasn't fallen far from his tree.
But I am proud of the relentless woman he pushed me to be. I am proud that I now believe it is better to speak the truth in love than to be liked. It is better to give quietly than to receive admiration. In fact I believe I only know the tip of the ice burg when it comes to all my father has done for others.
That day at the post office wasn't the first time I'd heard that story about being given to the Lord on the day I was born. I'd heard it on numerous occasions, usually during times when my dad was trying to instill something rich and pivotal in my little heart. The knowledge that life in all of its entirety was far bigger than him or me or any other individual, and while we may foolishly hang onto those things which we think we need, every one of those things was a gift from the Father above and gains its greatest power when it is surrendered back to Him.
I think my daddy still struggles to let me go to the hands of God, fearing for our financial stability and worrying a little too much about what we don't have. Yet as much as he prods us to be careful and scolds us when he feels we too freely give out of our tiny storehouse, HE is the very one who fashioned me to be the giver I am today. My father's willingness to give me away has been a small little image of the gospel played out with powerful consequences. Because he opened his hands they were filled with dozens of other blessings, the lives of children longing for a giver to pour into them.
When I think and pray for each one of my children I make a conscious effort to open my hands and give their lives up to the Lord. I see now that this isn't easy, but my prayer is that that sacrifice will bear fruit in their lives the same way my father's sacrifice has born fruit in mine.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Cultivating Compassion (part 9): Ask
Today I am winding up the Cultivating Compassion series. I have truly enjoyed exploring this subject, and hope you have too. You can catch up on any previous posts in the series HERE.
Up to date I have talked predominately about what we can do to cultivate compassion in ourselves. When I opened the series I stressed the significance of prayer, but never elaborated. I have written assuming that as we strive to cultivate compassion in our lives we are doing so in step with the Holy Spirit dwelling in our hearts. Because, of course, it is impossible to grow anything truly good out of the gravel of our hearts unless the Master Gardener gives us the seed and soil.
It is so crucial to avoid pity, imagine more, walk a mile and know our limits, but if we look to ourselves for these abilities we will fall flat and ultimately be disappointed. But isn't this hopeful news? It gives me hope that God isn't just expecting me to pull myself up by my bootstraps and find some secret well within. He GIVES me the well, the spring of water that doesn't dry (John 4) and the Holy Spirit to make things happen inside of me that I could have never made happen myself!
So this is my final, and perhaps my most significant, piece of advice for cultivating compassion in our lives...
ASK
Just ask Him.
That's it. That's why I love the Gospel. It is so simple. There are no 12 step plans, secret codes or membership fees to pay. God loves to give us the things of Him.
The book of James tells us that "If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." I think you could easily insert any godly characteristic or fruit of the spirit with the word "wisdom" in that promise. You could even insert "compassion."
In Matthew Jesus says "If you, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask Him?"
The longer I have walked with Christ I have come to understand that Jesus is talking about MUCH more than the material things we need. For surely the best gift our Father could give us is the gift of life in our hearts and minds. Luke has it said "how much more will your Father in Heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him." God isn't stingy. He provides for our every need, even our spiritual ones.
Over the past few years I have found myself spending less and less time discussing "stuff" with my Heavenly Father, even such good stuff as health, safety and the like. I find myself asking Him more for the things of the Spirit, for the things I want to see inside myself and in others. My desire to be a better wife and mother. A more patient friend. More self controlled, disciplined, generous, forgiving and...compassionate.
Because the more I get to know myself and my weak nature I find myself crying out with Paul over and over again "I do not do what I want, but the very thing I hate!" (Romans 7) I have discovered that God's greatest miracles are not the healing of the sick and freeing of the prisoner. Those are all tremendous. The greatest miracle, though, is that He can change a heart like mine. And He does, because despite all odds I see Him help me and grow me despite all my uncooperative, selfish antics, He overcomes ME and YOU.
So keep asking. We can, by His graciousness, become truly compassionate people. Let me leave you on this journey by encouraging you to strive in your dialogue with the Lord, asking for those greater gifts, especially the gift of compassion. It delights Him when we ask for such good things, and if we truly desire this in our hearts, He will not deny it.
Up to date I have talked predominately about what we can do to cultivate compassion in ourselves. When I opened the series I stressed the significance of prayer, but never elaborated. I have written assuming that as we strive to cultivate compassion in our lives we are doing so in step with the Holy Spirit dwelling in our hearts. Because, of course, it is impossible to grow anything truly good out of the gravel of our hearts unless the Master Gardener gives us the seed and soil.
It is so crucial to avoid pity, imagine more, walk a mile and know our limits, but if we look to ourselves for these abilities we will fall flat and ultimately be disappointed. But isn't this hopeful news? It gives me hope that God isn't just expecting me to pull myself up by my bootstraps and find some secret well within. He GIVES me the well, the spring of water that doesn't dry (John 4) and the Holy Spirit to make things happen inside of me that I could have never made happen myself!
So this is my final, and perhaps my most significant, piece of advice for cultivating compassion in our lives...
ASK
Just ask Him.
That's it. That's why I love the Gospel. It is so simple. There are no 12 step plans, secret codes or membership fees to pay. God loves to give us the things of Him.
The book of James tells us that "If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." I think you could easily insert any godly characteristic or fruit of the spirit with the word "wisdom" in that promise. You could even insert "compassion."
In Matthew Jesus says "If you, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask Him?"
The longer I have walked with Christ I have come to understand that Jesus is talking about MUCH more than the material things we need. For surely the best gift our Father could give us is the gift of life in our hearts and minds. Luke has it said "how much more will your Father in Heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him." God isn't stingy. He provides for our every need, even our spiritual ones.
Over the past few years I have found myself spending less and less time discussing "stuff" with my Heavenly Father, even such good stuff as health, safety and the like. I find myself asking Him more for the things of the Spirit, for the things I want to see inside myself and in others. My desire to be a better wife and mother. A more patient friend. More self controlled, disciplined, generous, forgiving and...compassionate.
Because the more I get to know myself and my weak nature I find myself crying out with Paul over and over again "I do not do what I want, but the very thing I hate!" (Romans 7) I have discovered that God's greatest miracles are not the healing of the sick and freeing of the prisoner. Those are all tremendous. The greatest miracle, though, is that He can change a heart like mine. And He does, because despite all odds I see Him help me and grow me despite all my uncooperative, selfish antics, He overcomes ME and YOU.
So keep asking. We can, by His graciousness, become truly compassionate people. Let me leave you on this journey by encouraging you to strive in your dialogue with the Lord, asking for those greater gifts, especially the gift of compassion. It delights Him when we ask for such good things, and if we truly desire this in our hearts, He will not deny it.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Raiders of the Lost Craft Box
Dawn breaks in a distant city. Four weary travelers rise bravely from their beds to embark upon a journey, a journey to retrieve a waylaid treasure locked deep in the recesses of a secluded warehouse.
You'll have to forgive me for being cheesy...it's been a loooooooongggggggg day. Our little Pearl Ministries band was up past midnight and then awoke at the crack of dawn so that we could arrive at our customs broker's warehouse by 7am.
Remember that 1,000 pound box of crafts I told you about? Well, it was there waiting for us! And yes, there was a moment when we first slipped into the warehouse that I could hear the theme from Raiders of the Lost Ark playing in my head. Thankfully our crate wasn't filled with a powerful Biblical relic. Ours was filled with paper beads!
And purses, wallets, bangles, earrings, and baskets! 10,000 fantastic items all needing a sticker indicating country of origin. It took four of us nearly 10 hours, but we got it done! Now we just pray that the customs agent will revisit our box tomorrow and approve it for release asap!
Asheligh and Lauren were real troopers with us today. The warehouse wasn't air conditioned and there were some weird odors in there....some of them probably coming from our sweating bodies! (Or possibly the animals heads being stored in the crate next to ours!) It was an intense day and what makes our staff all stars is that tomorrow they'll be driving over to Stone Mountain to set up our booth at Atlanta Fest. Barring heat and/or rain they'll be selling East African wares for the benefit of children in Uganda this Wed. through Sat. at this massive Christian music festival. Pray for blessing to abound!
And if you are itching to get your hands on some of these little African treasures, stay tuned in the coming weeks for some BIG announcements. I think you're going to be excited!
Just for fun I thought I'd give you a peek at our box just before it left the Pearl of Africa. This heartwarming grin belongs to Theophilus Kamara. It makes me happy. Hope it makes you happy too.
Like a Child
Remember in March when I told you about our awesome experience partnering with children at a local Bible Club? Remember how I said I am always looking for opportunities to connect our ministry with children? I've had some fantastic opportunities to do so this month!
Last week I got to spend time at my home church, Carriage Lane Presbyterian Church, as their VBS program was sponsoring a special offering for Ranch on Jesus. It is always awesome to interact with the kids at CLPC. It was only a few years ago that I was one of those wee ones sitting on the floor of the fellowship hall singing "Father Abraham" and "Jesus Loves Me." Now many of my childhood friend's children fill the rows of the preschool classes!
My two days with the kids were a blast, and guess how much they raised? $758!!! Awesome!
Then on Sunday Scott and I were invited to Cathedral Church of the Advent in downtown Birmingham to speak during their children's chapel services.
What a joy! I am always in heaven speaking with young ones. I love speaking to big people too, but there is something extra special about children. They have unbridled curiosity and enthusiasm. I feel we adults so often underestimate their ability to grapple with difficult subjects and strongly empathize with others. But I heed very seriously those words of Jesus, "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18) Obviously there is something crucial we grown ups are supposed to be learning from the nature of children. When I am speaking in front of a sincere and wide eyes crowd of youngsters I feel I get a more potent taste of it.
As a part of our ministry presentations to children, we do an awesome educational experience called "A Day in the Life of a Ugandan Child." It is a display of objects commonly used by children in Uganda...toothpaste, school uniforms, worn out shoes, wire toys and more. Children are able to reach out and touch these items. Our belief is that when they connect their eyes and hands to these Ugandan things they are better equipped to engage their hearts.
When American children learn in depth the conditions that their peers in Uganda live in each day, they are often stirred to act. This summer our new friends over at Church of the Advent will be collecting a special offering to send to the children in the care of Ranch on Jesus Ministries. What a blessing this will be for our precious kids in Uganda! And this will also be a rich blessing for our Advent children as they learn the freedom and joy that comes with generosity.
If you'd ever like to connect some special children in your life with some special children in Uganda, let us know! It is truly one of my FAVORITE things!
Last week I got to spend time at my home church, Carriage Lane Presbyterian Church, as their VBS program was sponsoring a special offering for Ranch on Jesus. It is always awesome to interact with the kids at CLPC. It was only a few years ago that I was one of those wee ones sitting on the floor of the fellowship hall singing "Father Abraham" and "Jesus Loves Me." Now many of my childhood friend's children fill the rows of the preschool classes!
My two days with the kids were a blast, and guess how much they raised? $758!!! Awesome!
Then on Sunday Scott and I were invited to Cathedral Church of the Advent in downtown Birmingham to speak during their children's chapel services.
What a joy! I am always in heaven speaking with young ones. I love speaking to big people too, but there is something extra special about children. They have unbridled curiosity and enthusiasm. I feel we adults so often underestimate their ability to grapple with difficult subjects and strongly empathize with others. But I heed very seriously those words of Jesus, "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18) Obviously there is something crucial we grown ups are supposed to be learning from the nature of children. When I am speaking in front of a sincere and wide eyes crowd of youngsters I feel I get a more potent taste of it.
As a part of our ministry presentations to children, we do an awesome educational experience called "A Day in the Life of a Ugandan Child." It is a display of objects commonly used by children in Uganda...toothpaste, school uniforms, worn out shoes, wire toys and more. Children are able to reach out and touch these items. Our belief is that when they connect their eyes and hands to these Ugandan things they are better equipped to engage their hearts.
When American children learn in depth the conditions that their peers in Uganda live in each day, they are often stirred to act. This summer our new friends over at Church of the Advent will be collecting a special offering to send to the children in the care of Ranch on Jesus Ministries. What a blessing this will be for our precious kids in Uganda! And this will also be a rich blessing for our Advent children as they learn the freedom and joy that comes with generosity.
If you'd ever like to connect some special children in your life with some special children in Uganda, let us know! It is truly one of my FAVORITE things!
Monday, June 14, 2010
Detour
Guess where I am? I'll give you a hint....it isn't Birmingham. Nope, it isn't Uganda either. I'm in Atlanta.
Atlanta? you ask. Didn't she just leave Atlanta?
Why, yes. Yes I did. And if you had told me when I woke up this morning that I'd be in Atlanta tonight I would have said, HUH? But ultimately I wouldn't have doubted, because I have learned after many years in ministry to always be prepared for the unexpected.
I found out on Friday that Viv and I were going to have to go with Scott to Atlanta on Wednesday. We're participating in a large festival there Wednesday through late Saturday. Then Sunday we have to be on the road at dawn to reach Chattanooga in time for a speaking engagement at a church. I was feeling tired after all that traveling last week, but felt I could be recouped enough to tackle another adventure by mid week.
Then this morning Scott got a call informing him that his 1,000 pound box (That isn't a typo. The box really weighs 1,000 pounds!) of African crafts would be released from customs in Atlanta as soon as we labeled every item inside with country of origin. This is a HUGE answer to prayer as we wanted these crafts available for our big festival this week. But guess how many items are inside that box?
10,000!
Ten thousand items will need to be labeled TOMORROW in order for us to get them on Wednesday or Thursday. So we ALL packed up and headed for Atlanta two days earlier than anticipated. Tomorrow Scott, Ashleigh, Lauren and I will be leaving for a downtown warehouse at 6 am (that will feel like 5 am to our central time bodies) to go label. Crazy! But also very exciting.
Pray for us as we're tired with a long week ahead. And pray for us as we reach out to the crowds at Atlanta Fest, a large Christian music festival, where we'll be selling African goods and promoting the work of Pearl Ministries. We could really use some profit for our kids in Uganda right now!
For reasons stated above I won't be getting the last Cultivating Compassion segment up today. Look for it on Wednesday. I also wanted to tell you about my Sunday, but that will also have to wait. Right now the Lord sent us on a slight detour and we just have to bend to His will.
It does get challenging zipping around from place to place, never feeling settled or stable. But I accept that this is the nomadic lifestyle that comes with being a pilgrim in this world. And where He leads me, I will follow. I'll leave you all tonight with the passage that has been rattling around in my head all day and comforting me in my exhaustion...
All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them. Hebrews 11:13-16
Atlanta? you ask. Didn't she just leave Atlanta?
Why, yes. Yes I did. And if you had told me when I woke up this morning that I'd be in Atlanta tonight I would have said, HUH? But ultimately I wouldn't have doubted, because I have learned after many years in ministry to always be prepared for the unexpected.
I found out on Friday that Viv and I were going to have to go with Scott to Atlanta on Wednesday. We're participating in a large festival there Wednesday through late Saturday. Then Sunday we have to be on the road at dawn to reach Chattanooga in time for a speaking engagement at a church. I was feeling tired after all that traveling last week, but felt I could be recouped enough to tackle another adventure by mid week.
Then this morning Scott got a call informing him that his 1,000 pound box (That isn't a typo. The box really weighs 1,000 pounds!) of African crafts would be released from customs in Atlanta as soon as we labeled every item inside with country of origin. This is a HUGE answer to prayer as we wanted these crafts available for our big festival this week. But guess how many items are inside that box?
10,000!
Ten thousand items will need to be labeled TOMORROW in order for us to get them on Wednesday or Thursday. So we ALL packed up and headed for Atlanta two days earlier than anticipated. Tomorrow Scott, Ashleigh, Lauren and I will be leaving for a downtown warehouse at 6 am (that will feel like 5 am to our central time bodies) to go label. Crazy! But also very exciting.
Pray for us as we're tired with a long week ahead. And pray for us as we reach out to the crowds at Atlanta Fest, a large Christian music festival, where we'll be selling African goods and promoting the work of Pearl Ministries. We could really use some profit for our kids in Uganda right now!
For reasons stated above I won't be getting the last Cultivating Compassion segment up today. Look for it on Wednesday. I also wanted to tell you about my Sunday, but that will also have to wait. Right now the Lord sent us on a slight detour and we just have to bend to His will.
It does get challenging zipping around from place to place, never feeling settled or stable. But I accept that this is the nomadic lifestyle that comes with being a pilgrim in this world. And where He leads me, I will follow. I'll leave you all tonight with the passage that has been rattling around in my head all day and comforting me in my exhaustion...
All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them. Hebrews 11:13-16
Monday, June 7, 2010
Cultivating Compassion (part 8): Compassioned-Out?
The Cultivating Compassion series is winding to a close. Next week will be the final installment. If you missed any previous weeks you can read them HERE.
If you have been striving to make yourself more sensitive of others and more aware of where compassion is needed, you'll quickly realize it is needed everywhere. Do you feel overwhelmed yet? As I have been discussing the need to increase our capacity for compassion I now feel it is important to answer the question, how large can our capacity for it actually become? Is it possible to be so disproportionately consumed with compassion that we do damage to ourselves or even to others?
Last week on the radio I heard the term "compassion fatigue." The term intrigued me, so I did some further digging. Turns out Compassion Fatigue is a legitimately recognized secondary traumatic stress disorder. Yep! The Compassion Fatigue Awareness Project website tells us that "caring too much can hurt." It is possible to get compassioned-out.
As you might have guessed, I have a predisposition to compassion fatigue. Not a big surprise. My "occupation" is one of compassion. But it is also my personality. God just made me a person who feels things deeply. I especially feel them deeply on the behalf of others.
This initially seems like a blessing, but there is a dark side to being intensely compassionate. Over the last few years through various relationships, trials and circumstances, the Lord has taught me MUCH about taking my compassion too far. Too far to the point of harming myself and inhibiting other's growth. He has taught me a great deal about guarding my soul in Him and developing a healthy understanding of what my capacity for compassion is and isn't.
I want to pass a handful of these general lessons onto you. I had to learn (and am still learning) many of these the hard way. My hope is that by hedging in your heart with these warnings, you'll be able to avoid some self inflicted harm.
1) You make yourself susceptible to compassion fatigue when while caring for others there is no one caring for you.
The Bible tells us to put others before ourselves and sacrifice on behalf of others. But the Bible is assuming that if ALL believers are obeying this command then EVERY believer has other people in their life putting them first. Scripture paints a picture of a community where each individual is caring for the needs of others and others are caring for that individual's needs. Mutual compassion. Never is it the Lord's intent that we are poured out without ever being poured into. We ALL need compassion.
The dear pastor who married us warned Scott and I of this in our final session of premarital counseling. He knew us. He told us he knew our natures would push us into places where we were needed by many people. He worried that we would be so consumed with caring for others that no one would be caring for us. This pastor encouraged us to make sure we always surrounded ourselves with people who cared about us and would love on us.
I have never forgotten those wise words. They have proved prophetic. Unfortunately he diagnosed us well, but we were slack at applying his remedy. Much of the compassion fatigue we suffer from is due to the fact that we, for the most part, live rather intensely draining yet isolated lives. Compassionate people are very good at responding to the needs of others, but we struggle to express our own needs or ask anything from anyone else. We fear being a burden. We get proud. I see this as selfish. So we are working in our family now to make a more humble effort to let others know where we are personally in need of being poured into.
2) But the Bible also states that when our needs aren't being met by others, the Lord is there to meet them for us. No man or woman can have their needs 100% fully met by another human being. God uses people to minister to us, but he is not limited to them.
Scripture calls God the "Father of compassion and the God of all comfort." (2 Cor 1:3) He is described as compassionate time after time in the Old Testament. Hebrews 4 tells us that in Jesus we have a great High Priest able to sympathize with our every weakness. We can turn to him for mercy and grace in any time of need. And when we do not know what or how to pray, the Spirit intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express (Romans 8).
HE is sufficient. When I feel completely spent in my compassion for others and lonesome for others to show compassion to me. On days where I feel forgotten, overwhelmed and just want to throw in the towel, I plug myself into Isaiah 53, Psalm 69 and other like passages. The Lord is there and he can fill us with HIS compassion in our need.
But we have to let the Lord show compassion and care toward us. It is possible to block His waves of mercy, to voluntarily drown ourselves in pity. When I don't tune into Him, cling to Him or plunge into His Word I inevitably get compassioned-out.
3) When you are tuned into the Word you develop a healthy understanding of God's sovereignty and power. When you reflect daily on His wise control you realize that it is not up to YOU. YOU are not responsible for everyone in the world. That is in God's hands, not yours. Which leads me to what I feel is the biggest lesson I have had to learn in preventing compassion fatigue...
4) You are NOT Jesus. OK-this sounds obvious....right? But I say seriously that I think many many devoted Christians have this struggle. I know I do. Last year the Lord mercifully revealed to me that I was trying to usurp Him in several relational situations. My heart broke. This was never my intent. On the surface everything looked fine. I even looked selfless. Underneath I was taking up burdens that Jesus never called me to carry.
One day I will unfold that journey in further depth, but I will briefly sum up what I discovered for the sake of this series: Jesus asks us to die to ourselves. He DOES NOT ask us to die for the world. Only HE did that. That is HIS job. We can quickly take our compassion so far that not only do we allow ourselves to die in ways God never designed, but we can also hinder others relationship with the savior by allowing them to heap their sins and needs upon us, rather than laying them at the foot of the cross.
It IS possible to develop an unhealthy sense of compassion when we allow ourselves to grow beyond the capacity that God designed. The key to guarding ourselves against compassion fatigue is a grounded knowledge of who we are and who God is. We are the created. He is the creator. We have needs. He does not. We have limits. He does not. Never is the Lord asking us to do HIS job. He is asking us to participate within the limits He has created in our nature.
So when you feel yourself torn, overwhelmed and burned rush back to these truths that you know. Cast your burdens onto Him for He cares for you (1 Peter 5). And cast the burdens of others there as well, for He cares for them too. Pray, pray, pray for the Father of compassion to intervene for us all. Take yourself to His feet asking Him to show compassion to you as you seek to show compassion to others in His Name. He can and will give you peace about what you CAN and CAN'T do.
If you have been striving to make yourself more sensitive of others and more aware of where compassion is needed, you'll quickly realize it is needed everywhere. Do you feel overwhelmed yet? As I have been discussing the need to increase our capacity for compassion I now feel it is important to answer the question, how large can our capacity for it actually become? Is it possible to be so disproportionately consumed with compassion that we do damage to ourselves or even to others?
Last week on the radio I heard the term "compassion fatigue." The term intrigued me, so I did some further digging. Turns out Compassion Fatigue is a legitimately recognized secondary traumatic stress disorder. Yep! The Compassion Fatigue Awareness Project website tells us that "caring too much can hurt." It is possible to get compassioned-out.
As you might have guessed, I have a predisposition to compassion fatigue. Not a big surprise. My "occupation" is one of compassion. But it is also my personality. God just made me a person who feels things deeply. I especially feel them deeply on the behalf of others.
This initially seems like a blessing, but there is a dark side to being intensely compassionate. Over the last few years through various relationships, trials and circumstances, the Lord has taught me MUCH about taking my compassion too far. Too far to the point of harming myself and inhibiting other's growth. He has taught me a great deal about guarding my soul in Him and developing a healthy understanding of what my capacity for compassion is and isn't.
I want to pass a handful of these general lessons onto you. I had to learn (and am still learning) many of these the hard way. My hope is that by hedging in your heart with these warnings, you'll be able to avoid some self inflicted harm.
1) You make yourself susceptible to compassion fatigue when while caring for others there is no one caring for you.
The Bible tells us to put others before ourselves and sacrifice on behalf of others. But the Bible is assuming that if ALL believers are obeying this command then EVERY believer has other people in their life putting them first. Scripture paints a picture of a community where each individual is caring for the needs of others and others are caring for that individual's needs. Mutual compassion. Never is it the Lord's intent that we are poured out without ever being poured into. We ALL need compassion.
The dear pastor who married us warned Scott and I of this in our final session of premarital counseling. He knew us. He told us he knew our natures would push us into places where we were needed by many people. He worried that we would be so consumed with caring for others that no one would be caring for us. This pastor encouraged us to make sure we always surrounded ourselves with people who cared about us and would love on us.
I have never forgotten those wise words. They have proved prophetic. Unfortunately he diagnosed us well, but we were slack at applying his remedy. Much of the compassion fatigue we suffer from is due to the fact that we, for the most part, live rather intensely draining yet isolated lives. Compassionate people are very good at responding to the needs of others, but we struggle to express our own needs or ask anything from anyone else. We fear being a burden. We get proud. I see this as selfish. So we are working in our family now to make a more humble effort to let others know where we are personally in need of being poured into.
2) But the Bible also states that when our needs aren't being met by others, the Lord is there to meet them for us. No man or woman can have their needs 100% fully met by another human being. God uses people to minister to us, but he is not limited to them.
Scripture calls God the "Father of compassion and the God of all comfort." (2 Cor 1:3) He is described as compassionate time after time in the Old Testament. Hebrews 4 tells us that in Jesus we have a great High Priest able to sympathize with our every weakness. We can turn to him for mercy and grace in any time of need. And when we do not know what or how to pray, the Spirit intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express (Romans 8).
HE is sufficient. When I feel completely spent in my compassion for others and lonesome for others to show compassion to me. On days where I feel forgotten, overwhelmed and just want to throw in the towel, I plug myself into Isaiah 53, Psalm 69 and other like passages. The Lord is there and he can fill us with HIS compassion in our need.
But we have to let the Lord show compassion and care toward us. It is possible to block His waves of mercy, to voluntarily drown ourselves in pity. When I don't tune into Him, cling to Him or plunge into His Word I inevitably get compassioned-out.
3) When you are tuned into the Word you develop a healthy understanding of God's sovereignty and power. When you reflect daily on His wise control you realize that it is not up to YOU. YOU are not responsible for everyone in the world. That is in God's hands, not yours. Which leads me to what I feel is the biggest lesson I have had to learn in preventing compassion fatigue...
4) You are NOT Jesus. OK-this sounds obvious....right? But I say seriously that I think many many devoted Christians have this struggle. I know I do. Last year the Lord mercifully revealed to me that I was trying to usurp Him in several relational situations. My heart broke. This was never my intent. On the surface everything looked fine. I even looked selfless. Underneath I was taking up burdens that Jesus never called me to carry.
One day I will unfold that journey in further depth, but I will briefly sum up what I discovered for the sake of this series: Jesus asks us to die to ourselves. He DOES NOT ask us to die for the world. Only HE did that. That is HIS job. We can quickly take our compassion so far that not only do we allow ourselves to die in ways God never designed, but we can also hinder others relationship with the savior by allowing them to heap their sins and needs upon us, rather than laying them at the foot of the cross.
It IS possible to develop an unhealthy sense of compassion when we allow ourselves to grow beyond the capacity that God designed. The key to guarding ourselves against compassion fatigue is a grounded knowledge of who we are and who God is. We are the created. He is the creator. We have needs. He does not. We have limits. He does not. Never is the Lord asking us to do HIS job. He is asking us to participate within the limits He has created in our nature.
So when you feel yourself torn, overwhelmed and burned rush back to these truths that you know. Cast your burdens onto Him for He cares for you (1 Peter 5). And cast the burdens of others there as well, for He cares for them too. Pray, pray, pray for the Father of compassion to intervene for us all. Take yourself to His feet asking Him to show compassion to you as you seek to show compassion to others in His Name. He can and will give you peace about what you CAN and CAN'T do.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
He's Back!
Scott is home!!!! Well, technically we're not home yet. We're still in Atlanta. I've got a VBS fundraiser here for Ranch this week and Scott is waiting for an ENORMOUS box to clear customs. Actually, Scott will be in Birmingham tomorrow, but will return to Atlanta a few hours later. Yes...I know we're crazy. Hopefully we'll ALL be settled back into our humble abode by mid week.
Thank you to those who prayed faithfully for us during this season of separation and service. They aren't easy times, but we can testify to God's faithfulness. And I find that these times apart do more to sweeten our family time together. Togetherness is not something we take for granted.
Scott seems to be pushing through his jet-lag better than he usually does. This is a huge blessing as he has a very busy month ahead of him.
I'm still soaking in the news, stories, etc. It is all quite consuming. But now that I am no longer on solo command at home, I plan to blog a little more frequently.
Please continue to pray. Doing ministry is a complicated, difficult but oh so rewarding thing. We just need Christ's strength, wisdom and grace poured into us daily. It is comforting to know others are striving alongside of us on their knees.
Thank you to those who prayed faithfully for us during this season of separation and service. They aren't easy times, but we can testify to God's faithfulness. And I find that these times apart do more to sweeten our family time together. Togetherness is not something we take for granted.
Scott seems to be pushing through his jet-lag better than he usually does. This is a huge blessing as he has a very busy month ahead of him.
I'm still soaking in the news, stories, etc. It is all quite consuming. But now that I am no longer on solo command at home, I plan to blog a little more frequently.
Please continue to pray. Doing ministry is a complicated, difficult but oh so rewarding thing. We just need Christ's strength, wisdom and grace poured into us daily. It is comforting to know others are striving alongside of us on their knees.
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