True hospitality

James just got back from South Sudan on Saturday.  I force myself not to worry about him when he is in Africa.  I don't want to dishonor God by not believing God is in control of that situation.  But honestly, the Holy Spirit makes it easy.  Every trip, I have had a peace come over me, and I just know that it is ok.

South Sudan is an important country in Africa to our family.  We have a South Sudanese congregation at Citychurch, and James's previous trip has endeared us to that struggling, new country.  We pay attention to any news we come across about South Sudan.

One thing that popped up on my FaceBook feed a few months ago was an article posted by Food for the Hungry about the food shortage in South Sudan.  Because of all the tribal fighting that went on for the last year, many farmers were displaced and unable to plant their crops.  Hundreds of thousands of people are still displaced in UN camps, the city of Juba, or have fled to neighboring countries.

As James was packing for this trip, I kept bringing up these facts and encouraging him to pack more snacks and Cliff bars.  I was really worried that he was going to go hungry, like really, really go hungry.

The funny thing is that every single time I got to talk to him on the phone while he was in South Sudan, he was complaining about having to eat too much.  I'm not joking.  It was a constant stream of meals.  One day they went to visit some families in their homes, and he had to eat about 5 dinners.

James was so humbled by this experience.  The country is experiencing a food shortage.  The people of South Sudan were not getting enough to eat, but they were so intent on making sure their visitors had an abundant meal.  The village women all cooked elaborate meals in their outdoor kitchens.  The amount of work and monetary sacrifice that went into each of those 5 meals was astonishing.

Shannon Abook lives at the top of Dinka Mountain.  They went to visit her husband, but when he wasn't home she brought out cold waters and Cokes for the guys to drink.

Anykol is preparing greens for dinner.

This was Sunday dinner at Simon's home.

This was the farewell meal for the guys.  The men butchered the goat and the women prepared food all day to provide this feast as a celebration of sending their visitors back home.

Their were times when James, Donnie, and Lual were taken out to eat.  Their restaurants are not as commercial or established as we are use to, but there are restaurants.  Our Americans had taken lots of money with them for the trip, but in several instances, one of the South Sudanese men would stand firm that they were paying for the meal.  They would lay on the generosity thick in those instances, ordering extra food when a dish would come out differently than the Americans had hoped when they ordered.  They would insist on ordering extra items with the meal, like hot teas.  They wanted to make sure that their visitors had a wonderful meal, no matter the cost.

These meals made a huge impact on James.

Alueo treated the guys to this South Sudanese restaurant.  They ate dried fish, goat, soup, and injera bread.

I just finished reading a book called Neighbors and Wise Men by Tony Kriz.  In this book, there is a chapter about this same sort of experience that Tony has as a missionary in Albania. Here is a short excerpt from his book.

"Occasionally I would get a chance to travel to an Albanian village.  I am not talking about an outlying city, or even a small town.  These were mountainside villages, consisting of only a few hovels....   

We would soon find ourselves sitting in a small living space, next to a freshly stoked fire.  These highlanders were simple folk but full of honor.  Within minutes I had a warm cup of mountain tea in my cold hands.  Our business rarely lasted more than a day, and though we were strangers, we were always offered a warm bed.  I was treated like a long-lost relative. 

Dinner was always, always the best they had to offer.  Each time I insisted that they not make a fuss, but there was no discussion to be had.  It was easy to imagine that a month's resources were spent on a single meal. 

My definition of hospitality will never be the same. 

True hospitality pushes past what we can afford to give up and makes deposits in accounts we can never lose."

I'm forever affected by this new definition of hospitality.  "True hospitality pushes past what we can afford to give up and makes deposits in accounts we can never lose."  That is truly profound.

While James was in Africa last week, I had two opportunities to bless someone monetarily.  It was clear God had placed these circumstances into my path, and I knew He was challenging me to give.  One of these individuals was a friend and the other individual was a stranger.  Looking back on these two times of giving, it is odd that I feel just as good about giving to that stranger as I do about giving to my good friend.

My hope is that I made deposits in that account I can never lose.

I may never have the opportunity to lavish a month's resources on a stranger, but I know every chance I get to show kindness to friends or strangers will be changed after learning this new definition of true hospitality.

"Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ." Colossians 3:23-24 ESV

As usual, I've got a song to share.  That's what's up.

Not By Our Own Might

*** Here is one last blog post that I wrote for the IF:Amarillo blog.  It's amazing to look back at these words I wrote after our first IF:Amarillo meeting and see that God accomplished exactly what we asked Him to do.  We did have 500 women and God provided what we needed monetarily, right down to the penny.  God is so, so faithful.

Last year I hosted an IF:gathering at my church Citychurch. I really wanted to go to Austin for the first IF:gathering, but I couldn’t logistically do that (i.e. no money for that in our budget.) On top of that, the tickets sold out in a matter of minutes (like less than an hour.) So when Jen Hatmaker posted her blog about IF:local, I was on it. I wanted there to be an IF:local in my city. So I decided I would host one. I put all the details together and kept it simple. I was a IF:one-man-band or planning, implementing, conference hosting woman. I had 12 ladies attend, and it was wonderful. But, here’s the thing. It was small.

A few months ago, I went to a meeting with 5 other ladies. These ladies were just ... I can’t even put words to it. They were IF ladies. I was so thrilled to be among them. We are planning this years IF:Gathering for Amarillo, and we are thinking BIG because God thinks BIG. God invented big.

On the way home from that first meeting, I was thinking about what we had just agreed to. We had decided on budget twice the size of a decent car loan and we had committed to hosting women by the hundreds. My brain doesn’t go to those kind of numbers on it’s own. To my detriment, I think in terms of what I can handle. How much can I bite off? What can I do?

Let me tell you that I’m flat, flat wrong.

I’ve got the wrong pronoun in those sentences. How different is the question when I replace I with He (as in the I Am, He?) How much can He bite off? Um. He baked that cookie. How much can He do? Well. He can, and He does.

I’m so excited to see what God does. I already know what I can do. Just read John 15:5, and it will tell you the harsh truth of “apart from me you can do nothing.” I get excited when I hear God is moving. I want to watch, but not only watch. I want to jump in. If God is moving, I want to grab on. Just like a toddler might “help” his dad move furniture. I want to grab a corner and “help.”

Do you get excited about God moving? If you do, then join in. Jump up and grab on. God isn’t going to put the load on you. He’s doing all the heavy lifting, but He lets us be a part of it. He’s that good and loving Father who knowingly looks down, and expresses His pride in our willingness to help and our willingness to go where He is going.

Come be a part of our BIG IF:Amarillo Gathering. If you haven’t registered, just go do it right now.

“I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” John 15:5 ESV

The Yes Don't Stop

*Today I met for brunch with my IF:Amarillo ladies.  I wanted to post a couple blogs that I wrote for the IF:Amarillo blog here on my personal blog.  Here's one I wrote about saying "yes" to God's call.

This might not be good grammar, but try imagining it in a 90’s hip-hop, wave your hands in the air, voice. “The yes don’t stop, stop.” That works, doesn’t it. Sorry. I’ll get serious now.

In February of 2013, I felt God calling my family to international adoption from Africa. My husband and I spent the next several months figuring out “What do we do now?” and “What does this mean for our family?” One of the first things I read about was cocooning. The idea is that you bring your child home, and they are new to the country, new to family life, new to you, ect. Basically everything is new, and you want to kind of huddle down at home and let them bond with you before you take them out into the world which has even more newness. I was excited when I read about cocooning. I couldn’t wait for this to happen. Why? Because I am a yes-er. Ask me, I’m probably going to say yes. I will admit that I run myself ragged. I’m a people pleaser, and it’s a struggle. I loved the idea of having such a deep and wonderful reason to say “No, I’ve got to be cocooned at home.”

We applied for our adoption in March of 2013, and I fully expected we would have our little boy within 18 months. So then I started to be scared of loosing my “yes.” I’ve got a full on “yes” addiction. Two things, I was naive about international adoption and Ethiopian adoptions have slowed and are continuing to slow.

So with my fear of losing my “yes” (The same “yes” I didn’t even want in February.) I thought I better say “yes” to EVERYTHING now because in a few months, I’ll be saying “no” to everything. So I did. I taught home school co-op classes, I led women’s Bible study in my home, I rode my bike in the neighborhood delivering lunches, I planned classes for Citychurch moms, I went to Ethiopia. I could go on because I was high on “yes” saying. My only criteria was, would this advance the kingdom of God at all, even an inch, then “Yes! I’ll do it.”

(Disclaimer here: This isn’t a blog post about priorities of the Christian woman or mother. There are plenty of books and blogs addressing that, and it an important issue that you should wrestle with and lean to God to lead you in the right direction.)

So now it has been almost two years since God gave me that call to adopt from Africa, and I am still waiting on my little boy. We spent the last year on the waiting list and the 10 months prior that completing the home study and paperwork required for our dossier.

Obviously I am still saying “yes” because here I am on the leadership team for IF:Amarillo. But God is also showing me something through this team.

My new friend Kaylie Hodges is also on the IF:Amarillo Leadership team. The first meeting I had to discuss planning this IF:Gathering, she had only been home two weeks from a trip to Uganda to adopt not one little boy, but two little Ugandan boys. She was in the trenches of cocooning. Nevertheless, she was at the meeting saying “yes.”

I was just meeting Kaylie for the first time. So I couldn’t say, “Are you sure you want to do this? Don’t you need to go home and cuddle your boys?”

I’m pretty embarrassed to lay my thoughts out here like this, but that was what I was thinking.

I even thought, “She’s going to have her hands full and need to step down.”

That thought is even more embarrassing!

It has been three months since that first meeting. I want to brag on Kaylie. She’s been one of the strongest links in our team. She’s been hard at work getting the word out about IF, managing IF:Amarillo’s FaceBook, going on Grace Radio, getting this blog started, visiting churches. But even more than the physically working. She’s been spiritually working. She’s never wavered in her faith that God was calling us to plan this event and that He was going to lead us and provide. She’s also been praying over the names of the women who have registered to attend this event. If you’ve registered, Kaylie has been praying for you. That just makes me mushy inside. I love it.

I’ve still got a wait ahead of me before I will have my little Ethiopian boy to snuggle and love on, but God is teaching me that when that time comes, He is still going to need my “yes.”

The other thing I have learned looking back at all my “yeses,” is that the end product of every single one of those decisions was a big blessing to me. I grew and learned and made friends every time I stepped out and did something for God’s Kingdom. It wasn’t something that I gave God. It always turned out to be something that God gave me.

Is there something that you feel God is asking you to do? If God is asking, say “yes.” I promise you will be blessed.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Matthew 5:6-8 ESV

Uncomfortable questions

Today is James's last full day in South Sudan.  I'm so happy, so ecstatic to know I will have him home soon.  Towards the end of his mission trips, I always begin counting it down, not in days, but in how many more nights do I have to sleep without him here.  Today I only have two more Jamesless nights left.

I have two things bouncing around in my head right and I feel like they are smushing my precious brain membranes.  One thing is Africa, the things James has told me about his trip and remembering details of my trip to Ethiopia last summer.  The other thing is an essay I am writing.

I've agreed to do something that is exciting and a little bit scary.  I've registered to attend a Christian writer's conference in April.  I have butterflies even as I admit to you that I am going.  When I registered for the conference, there was a little box that said "essay contest" and I checked yes.  So now I feel like a student again working on an important class project.  I get even more butterflies just thinking about my little document sitting on my desktop.  I want it to be good.  I'm terrified to let that list of respectable authors who are the judges read something I've written.  But also, since I'm a type A first born, I want to win the contest.  But I also want to wipe off my sweaty hands, slide that document into my virtual trash can icon and just not do it.

My essay is about church unity, because that's an easy nut to crack, right?

So I have these Africa stories and church unity crashing around my little noggin and it's terrifying.

I just thought I'd share.  The end.  Goodbye.

Not really.  I'll elaborate.

Yesterday James and I talked a little about an awful thing that is still happening in South Sudan.  It is the practice of men taking more than one wife.  He has regularly encountered men on his trip that profess to be Christian that have multiple wives.

It is more than disconcerning.  Because this is how I think, I immediately try to put myself mentally in the place of one of those wives.  Heartbreak.  I imagine physically straining work of caring for my children with a detached segment of a husband.  Just plan heartbreak.

James had called me while I was at the grocery store.  Yesterday I was standing in the middle of the can soup isle wondering if I could raise an old fashioned Frankenstein-style mob, check our pitchforks because those don't fit in our carry-ons, and fill an airplane to fly over there and do something.

I pulled myself back to reality and asked James questions that I knew he couldn't answer.  "What do we do about that?"  "How can we make them know that is wrong?"  "What do those men do to fix it because they can't just pick a family to keep?"  "How do we teach the children not to grow up and do that?"

He feeds me a lot of I-don't-knows and reassures me that the director of the orphanage and school is doing his best to teach the boys not to hope for multiple wives or plan to marry more than one woman.

My mental list of thank yous to God for being born in the time and country I was born in grows increasingly longer.

How do I open a document and write about church unity after hearing about these injustices?

God, please put an end to these chains of sin that bind your people and stop these generational sins that hurt your women.  Amen.

With James in Africa, I've been thinking about my week in Ethiopia.  While I was there, I felt like everyone was segmented into three groups of people, Muslims, Orthodox Christians, and Protestant Christians.  In America, we are just heathens and Christians.  Why was it different there?  I don't think I met anyone who was just a good old fashioned heathen while I was there.  It felt precarious.

I immediately joined team Protestant Christian in my head.  It's obvious the Muslims were not on my team, but what about those Orthodox Christians?  I've never encountered them before.  This was a new question to me.  Where they on my team?

I'm still wrestling with this one.  It's not where my flesh wants to go, but I feel like the Holy Spirit is pushing me to team unity.  At least these questions are slightly easier than that multiple wives question.

I like everything neat, organized, boxed up, and clear.  Jimmy crickets.  Why can't everything about God be neat, organized, boxed up, and clear?

While I was in Ethiopia I listened to a few sermons by Matt Chandler at the Village church.  During a sermon titled "Eccentric and Faithful," Matt said something that I connected so so deeply that I grabbed my journal and wrote down a quote.  Here it is.

"Surely you had to know that the Word of God was going to meet you some place that made you uncomfortable.  If it didn't, it's not the Bible and He's not God.  He's the god of your imagination, the one who makes everything like you feel comfortable.  It's just not the God of the Bible.  Is this messy and dangerous? --- Like life itself." - Matt Chandler

I'm wrestling with my God.  I don't want an imaginary god.  I want the real, I Am God.  I want Him even if His work is messy.  Even if His work is dangerous.  Especially when He makes me feel uncomfortable.

Change never comes out of a place of comfort.  And change always needed in this world and in me as I strive to be more like Him.  He is not messy.  He is unchanging.

As much as I would like to think that I have all my thoughts, feelings, and other parts of my self neatly wrapped up and contained in the right places and boxes, the truth is I don't.  God isn't the mess.  I am.

"Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. 

If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways. 

Let the lowly brother boast in his exaltation, and the rich in his humiliation, because like a flower of the grass he will pass away. For the sun rises with its scorching heat and withers the grass; its flower falls, and its beauty perishes. So also will the rich man fade away in the midst of his pursuits. 

Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him. Let no one say when he is tempted, 'I am being tempted by God,' for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one. But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death. 

Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. Of his own will he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures."     James 1:2-18 ESV

Thanks for sticking with me even though my thoughts are about as clear as this song and the singing of Alec Ounsworth.

Behind the scenes, or as my husband calls it, the IF-ter shock

Anytime someone else does something for God, I get these crazy ideas that it was easy for them.  I imagine that they are pulling off ministry with grace and composure.

Those are wacky thoughts.  No one serves God without disruption to their comfort and normal life.

So if anyone who attended IF:Amarillo last week has grandeur ideas of how wonderfully I pulled off being on the leadership team or contributing to the event, let me pull back the curtains.

All during IF:Amarillo, James kept asking me when the IF-ter shock would start and joking that he would miss the (after IF) IF-ter shock because he would be in Africa.

Instead of making this a 20 page paper on my shortcomings (because I could go on and on,) I'll make each flaw a bullet point.

My goal here is to show you that it isn't perfect so that you can see that you are capable of being to used by God, even if you don't think so.  All He needs from you is willingness and flexibility.  Honestly those two things are all you need.  He can't use someone who already has their own plan.

• I messed up several times at my impromptu job of running the computer at IF:Amarillo.  My biggest mistake was skipping a whole piece of session 3.  We missed out on seeing a table talk on racial reconciliation that was so amazing.  I am still kicking myself.  I am hoping that IF will put this part of the gathering online on Vimeo because it sets up this amazing bridge building guide.  Here is the blog about it.

• Sunday morning at Citychurch, I knew the church would be praying for my husband James before his mission trip.  I really wanted to be there.  I came into the service, and James brought me Gabriel, our 4 year old, and said, "He's got a fever."  He did.  His nose was running and he was coughing.  I didn't want to leave because I wanted to be there to pray for James.  At some point Gabe threw up on me.  I went and cleaned us up in the bathroom and came back in just in time to pray for the mission trip.  Clearly the IF-ter shock was causing some eruptions.

• James was leaving for a mission trip to South Sudan on the Monday after IF.  My whole Sunday was spent shopping for and packing bags of supplies for the trip.  I felt like a zombie for most of it.  Somehow we got it all packed.

• We finally got home from packing supplies, and started packing James's personal bags at dinnertime Sunday night.  (Can anyone say takeout.)  He needed a few things washed, and wouldn't you know it, our washer dies.  James looked at it for a long time.  He concluded that the pump had given out.  James's mom had to come pick up his last minute laundry and wash it at her house.

• On ALL of James's other trips to Africa, I've cooked him a special meal and dessert before he left for his trip.  This trip he got Wienerschnitzel.

• Monday was spent cleaning my house, because it was clear that the quakes of IF had shown to be very destructive at the Lane home.  Home schooling was put on hold until we had a clean spot to learn.

• I had someone come look at our washer, and he also concluded the pump was out.  After seeing the price tag on the pump, we decided to buy a new washer.

• I've had my new washer for 3 days, but I am not anywhere close to being caught up on laundry.  I finally was the recipient of the cold we've been passing around.  James had it, then Andrew, then Gabe (Sunday morning), then Lucy on Thursday, and now me.

• I've cooked my kids a real meal exactly zero times in the last week.  I did cook for Lual's wife Diana on Friday for lunch.  We are going to eat those leftovers now and hope that counts as cooking for my kids.

So those were my after-IF, IF-ter moments, but my biggest fail moment came before IF:Amarillo even started.  I had this crazy idea that we could offer childcare to the single women and CityKid moms that are involved with the kids that Citychurch ministers to.  I made fliers and told lots of women to just let me know if they wanted childcare, and Citychurch would provide it.  I honestly was doing this all rogue.  I didn't have a childcare team waiting in the wings to watch kids if moms ended up responding to my invitation.  I had talked to one willing dad, but as time passed, and I didn't have really any response from moms, I thought my whole idea was going to fizzle out.

Tuesday night I got a phone call from a mom of some of our CityKids.  She was calling me to sign her kids up for childcare.  I politely told her she was all set and wrote down her kids' names and ages, but as I hung up the phone, I was like, "Oh no! Now I gotta make sure this happens."

Instead of thinking clearly or even praying (um duh,) I went into a 24 hour melt down mode and tried to convince myself that I really should be babysitting during IF instead of attending.  (I now know that I needed to be a IF.  It ended up running the computer the whole weekend.)

Once I calmed down and stopped being mad a God for me not having a solid plan in place, I realized that He was in control.  He wanted it to happen to remind me that I wasn't in control, that I needed to be depending on Him, and that this was His ministry to women.

God provided an excellent plan for babysitting, Lucy and her responsible friend Madison (who has baby twin sisters so clearly she can handle anything.)  They ended up watching 10 different kids over the two days of IF:Amarillo.

So if I haven't scared you off from ever attempting ministry, at least I've let you see some of the un-pretty parts of giving a little of your life to serve God.  I know every single one of the ladies who stepped up to host an IF:Local in Amarillo and all over the world has similar stories of mistakes and messiness brought into their lives because they agreed to serve.  

Please know that it is worth it.  I know every bit of messy houses, takeout food, melt downs that led to greater dependance on God, and the tired, tired, sleepiness for days was worth it.  I know because I saw God move in women's hearts.  I saw God move in my city.  And I felt God move in my own life.

Listen to this song from my favorite whistling rocker.  How perfect is it that he talks about doing laundry in a song about taking courage?

Why I can't imagine not going back

Last week my friend and mission trip leader for the August 2015 ACT trip Shelly Wilson posted a blog titled "Why I'm Going Back."  She explained all the reasons why she felt that God wanted her to go on another mission trip to Ethiopia this summer, even though she, her husband, and her daughter had gone to Ethiopia last summer.

It was great blog post, and you should totally read it.

This weekend I filled out my application to be on her mission team in August.  One of the questions was "Describe why you want to visit the orphans?" and I answered, "I can't imagine not going back."

There are two reason I feel going back isn't even an option for me.  One is that my future son is only a drop in the bucket of the orphan crisis.

I've heard this phrase a lot when I tell people that we are on the list to adopt from Ethiopia.

"You are going to change that kid's whole future."

It's true, and I get goosebumps thinking about what God (not I) am doing in our son's life.

But the fact is that their are millions of orphans in the world that will never get the chance to be adopted.  If you go with the most conservative number, 17.8 million children have lost both their mother and father.  The amount of children that have been adopted in the last decade through international adoption is around 178,000 adoptions.  If you make that into a ratio, it means that less than 1% of those orphans are adopted into a family.

More than 99% of the world's orphans will never be adopted.

Knowing that fact, I can't help but do all the big and little things God sets before me to care for orphans that will never be adopted.

Honestly, I saw needs in the orphanages that were not being met.  I will continue to try to help meet those needs until I hear an audible voice of God telling me to stop.

It is clear to me from God's word that continuing to try to meet the needs of those parentless children is what we as Christians are suppose to be doing.

The second reason I can't imagine not going back is the book of Acts.  If you haven't got out your Bible and read through Acts lately, do it.  Do it, and ask yourself it the early church reminds you of your body of believers.  Most likely you will see some things you and your church are getting right, but you will also be convicted of some things your church is missing the mark on.

Specifically Acts 4:32-37 where it describes the early church sharing their earthy possessions until "there was not a needy person among them" has really opened some serious debate in my head and made my heart so sensitive to the needs of other believers.

On our trip we met the most beautiful, sweet, Christian family.  This family was only a mom and her son, Samuel.  They were both HIV+ and living in a 100 square feet home of corrugated metal and cardboard.  Knowing that this family and I were part of the same Bride of Christ broke my heart in a way that I cannot explain.  This woman was dealing with a serious illness, depression, raising a teenage son with a serious illness, and she was doing it all with less earthly possessions than my 4 year old.

I knew God was taking care of her, and I knew the hope of Jesus was more real to her than most Christians.  But now that I had meet this family, these believers in His church, I knew I was responsible to now live my life like I knew about them, no longer in ignorance of their existence.

Faces are covered out of respect for privacy.

If there is anything I can do to encourage my brothers and sisters in Christ in Ethiopia, I feel I have the responsibility to do it.  Visiting them is encouragement.  Praying for them is encouragement.  Giving is encouragement.  Our mission trip in August will allow me to do all three of these things.

Now that I've told you why I can't imagine not going back to Ethiopia again this August, think about if you can image going.  We have 6 people who have signed up for this trip, and I know God has a few more He is calling to go along with us.  Let me know if that might be you.

I hope I can be the kind of friend you call when the rice is running thin.

My biggest sin

***I wrote this for the IF:Amarillo blog a few weeks ago. I thought I would post it here. Only 4 more days until we will gather for IF:Amarillo!***

I’ll start out by telling you that I’m a goody, goody. (Do you remember being called that? Or calling someone that? I don’t think kids say that anymore, but they did back in the day.)

I got saved when I was 12, and I don’t have one of those “wild seed” testimonies. Sometimes I’m even jealous of those of you who do.

There’s no smoking, drinking, or drugs in my past. Both of my grandfather’s were abusive alcoholics. So I sore off drinking even before I was even a Christian. After my life progressed into a life of ministry at Citychurch ministering to kids and teens, drinking just didn’t fit the ministry God gave me. No judgement. I just don’t.

I married the first guy I dated. Even more goody, goody, I married a home schooler. Our pre-married dating was not Duggar-extreme, but it wasn’t far off.

I could keep playing “I’ve never” game longer, but I’ll get to the “I’ve.”

Worry.

Worry has been the biggest struggle for my in my sin life from day one. It’s my fleshly goto response to almost any situation, good or bad. (That’s right. I can even worry about good news.)

Here’s the thing about worry. It’s a big sin. Definitely bigger than all those “big” sins this goody, goody girl avoided.

When I worry, I’m telling God that I don’t believe He can handle my problems. When I worry, I am living like an atheist would live. I’m breaking God’s first commandments about worshiping Him and only Him.

So what does this have to do with IF? A lot.

Let’s plan an event for 500 women. My response, 500 worries pop in my head.

So let me take you back to the Jan. 4th IF:Amarillo Leadership meeting. How many women do we have signed up? About 38. Has anyone donated money? No.

Bam. Worry overload.

It’s been about a week since that meeting, and God is moving. Women are responding. We have a little money in the bank.

You would think it would be easy not to worry now. The tides are turning. But I’m good at worry.

I’ve learned that I have to physically, mentally, and spiritually decide not to worry. I have to stop myself as soon as it starts and make my brain head in the other direction.

It’s like a Christian guy faced with a Victoria Secret ad. If they are doing the right thing, they’re going to stop and flee like Joseph.

Worry is the mistress I have to flee from.

Do you have something you are worried about? It’s not easy to stop and flee those thoughts. God will reward you for trusting him. He loves giving us Faith. He has an endless supply to handout to us every time we need to trust Him.

Faith is the antidote to worry. Fortunately for us, Faith is the exact thing we will be learning more about at this year’s IF:Gathering. All of the IF sessions will center around the life of Joshua and his incredible faith in God’s promises. You won’t want to miss it.

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world.” I Peter 5:6-9 ESV

File this song under "world's most popular artist that you've probably never heard of."  James made me watch a whole documentary about the Swedish House Mafia selling out festival size concerts all over the world.  I still don't understand the extent of mass appeal this band has, but the song is pretty catchy.

Healing plane ride

It was Thursday, August 14th, 2014, and Barry, Shelley, Libby, and I boarded our first of three flights that would take us to Africa.  That first flight was from Amarillo to Houston.  We would have a small layover there before flying to Washington D. C. to stay the night.  The next morning would be the long, long, long flight to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.  

My seat is 1A.  I am in the first row, and there is only one seat in my row.  I have a strange view of the cockpit.  Too bad they have to shut the doors during the flight.  That would have been interesting.

There were so many things to wonder and think over on a flight that was beginning a journey to Ethiopia to serve at orphanages.  I had brought my Amharic flashcards for last minute study.  I had endless amounts of music on my iPod.  I had my Bible of coarse.  There was no end to the questions I had about our trip.  I had no idea what to expect.

But the thing I couldn't quit thinking about was the last time I had flown from Amarillo to Houston.

That day was July 21, 2010.

Early that morning, I had gotten a phone call that changed my life forever.

Phones ringing in the middle of the night was a common occurrence that summer.  Citychurch had just contracted with Allstate for security of the building downtown.  James and I were both on the call list.  Anytime someone came in early and set the alarm off  (which happened so often, I can't count) or a homeless person was acting unusual around our building, our phones would ring.  First James's phone would ring and go to voicemail, then my phone would ring and go to voicemail, as we tried to sleep knowing someone else would answer and handle the non-emergency.

That morning, my phone rang first, then James's phone rang.  I was jarred awake with the thought - that is not Allstate calling.  James answered.

My sleepy brain began to swim through likely scenarios.  It landed on one.  My aunt Edna's heart surgery.  Was that it?  My dad had told me she was recovering well before I went to sleep that night.

I could tell it was serious by James's groggy tone.  He hands me the phone saying, "It's your dad."  His news is unbelievable.  My brain will not let it sink in.

Jeffrey is dead.  My little brother has shot himself.

My dad's despair and heartbreak is flooding through the phone into my ear, but my brain builds a fortress.  I am in shock.

I do such random things that morning.  Pack my bag.  I have to be there for my parents.  How many diapers can I fit in this suitcase for my 2 month old Gabe?  I have to take care of my parents.  I have to take care of this baby.  I cook breakfast.  I never do that, but I feel such a need to make muffins.  I watch the news.  Something else I never do.  James buys me a plane ticket.  I look at Jeffrey's FaceBook page.  What was he thinking?  Is he really gone?  He was only 24.

The thing I do not do is cry.  My fortress is up.  My belief that this is real is still nonexistent.

James takes me to the airport.  Gabe and I get on the plane.

As the plane takes off, the only thought remember thinking is, this plane cannot crash.  My parents cannot lose two children in one day.

I have to take care of my parents.  I have to take care of this baby.

I get off the plane.  I get go to get my bags.  There is my mom, my dad, and their pastor.  It is true.  This is really happening.

We ride in the pastor's car to my parent's house.  It is an hour long drive.  When we pull into the driveway, extended family members are waiting.  They have driven from Ft. Worth to be supportive during this tragedy.  As I hug my cousin, Kathy, and the tears finally come.  She is here for me.  She's here to help and support me.  I can let go of the armor.  I let the fortress fall.

These are the memories that roll through my mind as I fly on my mission trip to Ethiopia last August.  But it wasn't all sad.  I had such a gratitude, a deep thanksgiving to God, that I was flying this flight from Amarillo to Houston to do His work, flying for a good reason.

I was overwhelmed with gratitude for the life He has given me.  As we fly, I hide my tears of loss and thanksgiving.  I was thankful to be sitting alone in my row of one.

It was healing.

I wondered on that flight why God would start that trip out with such an emotional reminder of that day of loss and brokenness I experienced in the wake of suicide.  But it was really a silly question.  Why wouldn't God want to start me in a place of weakness and sensitivity to His Spirit and remind me of my trust in Him?  Why wouldn't God want me to remember my loss before I went and held children who were marked with loss, marked as orphans?

God used my willingness to serve Him to heal my wounds.  This wasn't the first time that serving the Lord would serve me, and it won't be the last.  God has used my ministry to repair my heart over the last four years and refocus my humanity and compassion to serve others.  And in serving others, God ministers to me.

If you have scars and wounds, pray about serving God in some way.  Ask Him what you can do for others.  You may still have a fortress around those scars and bruises, but God has the remedy for healing.

Worship God with me.  

Can we also praise The Lord for xylophones?  They are marvelous.

Paralyzed and powerless

For the IF:Amarillo gathering coming up in 17 days (Eeeek!?!!?!), we have a website with a blog. Kaylie Hodges is our blog master. One of the things she did on the blog was to post a picture of our leadership team and introduce everyone. We have known each other only a few months and talked a handful of times, but she nailed it. Here's what Kaylie wrote about me:

"This lady will surprise you. She comes off as quiet and meek, but she has a crazy funny sense of humor and her willingness to step out in spite of her sometimes shyness speaks to a faith that truly believes that He has overcome. She works crazy hard to make sure we have the resources we need and doesn't mind handling the tough stuff like money and photoshop."

How did she know about how God has given me a faith to overcome my shyness? That girl's got some insight.

Yesterday I ran into an old friend. We had been camp councilors together for Angel Tree Camp in 2009. Before Citychurch had their own children's camp, Camp Hope, Citychurh threw it's staff, volunteers, and resources to help Angel Tree Camp. So many of the children who had family members incarcerated were the same children that Citychurch was reaching. So it seemed like a no brainer to partner up.

Sometimes I really forget how much and how far God has brought me in overcoming my shyness. But thinking about those Angel Tree Camp years, brings back some low points for me. Those were the years I was realizing it wasn't just shyness holding me back, it was social anxiety. Preparing to help for the first time at Angel Tree Camp, it reared it's ugly head.

The season before the 2009 camp, I had finally realized that the way I thought other people viewed me was not healthy or normal. I realized that I was having what I call "wacky thoughts." I was convinced that everyone was constantly judging me or thinking the worst of me. I'm such a people pleaser, so that was my nightmare. The truth is that people are very much wrapped up in their own lives, their own problems. If they think about me, it's a side thought, not "There's Jennifer, let's rip apart her appearance and actions in my brain." That's wacky.

That 2009 winter and spring, my anxiety had lead to a paralyzing depression. To get out of it, my husband, doctor, and I decided a very low dose anti-depressant was a good idea. So I began that medicine in early June. Angel Tree Camp was in that late July. Citychurch had been helping with Angel Tree for a few years, but somehow I had never helped with Angel Tree Camp. I had babies or other reasons that I couldn't help, so this was my first time to be a councilor.

Angel Tree Camp was such an epic thing. It was a huge deal every year. There was so much thought, care, and planning that went into those camps, it was intimidating. Decorations, themed skits, messy games, t-shirts, color coded cabins inspired young people to color their hair crazy colors, and fun activities galore.

Leaving for camp that July, I had agreed to ride out to the camp with another councilor that I didn't know yet. The people in charge had put me in a cabin of councilors and girls that were all strangers. I remember that my purple cabin ladies had told me to buy purple balloons. So that morning James drove me to buy balloons and took me over to the parking lot where I was going to meet my ride.

I was petrified. I was going into social anxiety minefield. How was I going to ride in a car with this lady I don't know for 45 minutes? I'm going to have to get to know all of these people. I didn't know what anyone or anything was going to be like. They are not going to like me. I'm going to be miserable.

I know I sound like a 9 year old before camp. I was a grown woman. James had to pull the car over and convince me that I could do it.

It's embarrassing to admit that it was so hard for me to get in a stranger's car and go help underprivileged kids with incarcerated parents have a fun week. The only reason I am admitting this is: 1. God has brought me so far, and I want to praise Him. 2. I know there are other ladies who have this problem. I want them to know that God can help them overcome their anxiety.

It doesn't happen overnight. It has taken years to heal.

Let me give you a flash forward timeline of what happened next:

I had the best time at camp. I became fast friends with those other ladies. That fall I found out I was pregnant with Gabe and that my father in law Don had leukemia. I gave up the medicine because of my pregnancy. That December, Don went to be with the Lord. January was my mom's hospitalization. May Gabe was born. June we moved to a new house. July my little brother died unexpectedly.

So needless to say, I didn't help at the next Angel Tree camp. I had a newborn and grief.

The next summer, 2011, Gabe was a year old, and James volunteered to watch him so I could help with Angel Tree Camp again. I was on board. I was going to help. I went to the planning meetings. I bought cabin decorations. I even crafted things for the girls in my cabin.

But the night before camp, my social anxiety was there, tearing me down. I completely chickened out of going. I called and convinced my mother-in-law to take my spot.

If having to pull myself together and get a pep talk is embarrassing, completely backing out the night before was downright shameful.

Over these years of grief, changes, and loss, I was beginning to cling to God like I never had before. I was in such need of his healing, grace, comfort, and love. I dove into studying his word, like I never had before. I began to grow in my faith. I began to serve Him in our church again.

The next summer, 2012, was our first year of Camp Hope. We took all the fun of Angel Tree and included all of the kids that Citychurch brings to summer Bible clubs. We named it after one of my father-in-law's favorite words, Hope, as a tribute to him.

I agreed to help. I was determined to redeem myself. Honestly it was so much easier to go and help that year. God had healed me so much, not just by learning more about Him through Bible study, but by leaning on Him through serving Him. I had begun to teach Sunday School for the pre-schoolers and seek out ways to serve Him. Each time I had stepped out of my comfort zone and taught or served, God had helped me do it.

God has truly brought me through so many things. He has handed out measure upon measure of faith every time I was in need of it. He has proven Himself trustworthy to me.

Just like a toddler learning to walk, I held onto God and He helped me along. It was even more than that analogy because with my anxiety, I was paralyzed. I was powerless. I could do nothing myself. God gave me the strength. I know my strength comes from Him.

In my life now, I am very busy with ministry. I am constantly putting myself in situations with new people. I'd love to tell you that it is easy now, but it's not. I just remind myself that God is strengthening me, and just step out in faith and do it. I know I can't do it on my own, but I know He can do it. He's proven Himself to me.

If you have anxiety, He will prove Himself faithful to you too. It takes more than just learning these words. You don't need faith to stay powerless and inactive. Step out and serve Him. Let Him give you the strength.

"Do you not know?
Have you not heard? Yahweh is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the whole earth.
He never grows faint or weary;
there is no limit to His understanding.
He gives strength to the weary
and strengthens the powerless.
Youths may faint and grow weary,
and young men stumble and fall,
but those who trust in the LORD
will renew their strength;
they will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary;
they will walk and not faint."
Isaiah 40:28-31 HCSB      

"I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the LORD,
who made heaven and earth."
Psalm 121:1-2 ESV

"This saying is trustworthy:
For if we have died with Him,
we will also live with Him;
if we endure, we will also reign with Him;
if we deny Him, He will also deny us;
if we are faithless, He remains faithful,
for He cannot deny Himself."
2 Timothy 2:11-13 HCSB

My beyond tenfold answered prayer

A few years ago I had a shift in my faith.  Not to the side, not a loss of faith, although most people might lose faith after going through what I went through.  No.  My shift in faith was a stronger faith.  With my strength of belief in the Lord, I also had a deep need to act.

"But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law,the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing." James 1:22-25

I knew the Lord, and I wanted to do something to put my faith to action.  The Lord begin to show me a bigger view of the world and His plan.  I begin to see needs everywhere I looked.  I wanted to go to work for Jesus, meeting spiritual and physical needs around the world as much as humanly possible.

I began jumped on board anything I could be a part of.  I ministered in so many ways.  Before that tough time in my life, I had allowed my anxieties to hold me back from ministering.  I was a part of Citychurch and it's ministry.  But I had slowly backed down from any responsibilities there.  I was stand-offish to the ministry I was in the middle of.

When Gabe was a baby, I decided to change that.  I thought maybe I could just sit in on a Sunday School class and help.  That quickly turned into teaching the preschool class.  It was the best thing I've ever done in the ministry.  Teaching that class was a big turning point in my ministry.

As my fire grew to minister more and more.  I wanted to try crazy things.  I wanted to do ministry that no one was doing that might reach the parents of our CityKids.  I gathered my Bible study ladies and taught monthly classes for low-income adults.  It was a short lived ministry, but I learned a lot from it.  And I haven't given up on the idea.

During the beginning of that "all-in," "ready for crazy ministry" period, I began to feel like I was alone in my fire for the Lord and His hurting world.

I began to pray for a partner in crime, another woman who wanted to actively serve the Lord in crazy ways.

God has answered these prayers, more than tenfold!  It wasn't overnight.  But I get weepy thinking of how deep and wide he answered that prayer.

Let me tell you about my partners in crime:

Shelly Wilson:  I have to talk about Shelly first because we've been to Ethiopia and back, and we are doing it again in August.  I love Shelly because I get Shelly.  She's an accountant turned mom turned adoptive mom turned crusader for Christ just like me.  Shelly's a hard worker.  She's one of those wonderful people who jump in and grab an ore when the boat needs rowing.  She doesn't just say she's going to do something, she does it as if someone is grading it and she's expecting an A++.  I've seen Shelly's heart, in times of disappointment and times of excitement.  Let me tell you, Shelly's got a good one, full of Christ's love.

The IF Ladies:  Right now I'm in the middle of this crazy ride called "planning an IF:Amarillo for the whole city."  It's a ride where they check your faith against the ruler before they strap you in.  It's amazing to get to serve God alongside these women who are so in love with Jesus.  Kaylie Hodges, Jennifer Johnson, Kristen DeRight, McKenzie Autry, April Mason, Shawntae Stout, Emily Wood, and Maribel Sims, I hope you girls know we are partners in crime now.  I'm going to be calling you and emailing you asking when we can get on another roller coaster, serving Jesus mission.

The In His Hands Ladies:  If you want a surefire way to soften a women's heart, tell them their son or daughter is on the other side of the planet.  I've caught onto you, God.  Good plan.  You got all of us with that one.  Melissa Albright is our instigator.  She's got a vision of Amarillo Christians coming together to serve the orphans of our city and our world.  I'm so happy to know the Albright's because I want to see that vision become reality.  Andi Veazy has quickly become a faith hero of mine.  She has three sons who are legally her children "stuck" in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.  (If you don't know what "stuck" is, watch the documentary by that name.  If you do know what "stuck" is, pray with me.  Help us pray those boys home.)  Christina Prater is just cool.  She makes me feel cool that I get to be in this group with her.  She's got style and grace.  But she also has love, compassion, and a willingness to serve.  I've got to mention two ladies who aren't even adopting, but have their hearts open wide to serve orphans.  They are on fire with their love for Jesus, Stacey Pybus and Eileen Merriman.  We need more women like this in our group.  The longer I am a part of In His Hands, the more women I meet that are ready to do crazy things for Jesus.  Lori Scott is knee deep in orphan care running an international and domestic adoption agency AND a non-profit that cares for orphans.  Cayla Cato is a new mom to the cutest little guy that she just adopted from Uganda.  Obviously her heart is in it.  I can't wait to see who else God leads to our group as it grows and grows.  He has already used our group in awe inspiring ways.  He let us be a part of raising enough money to purchase land for an orphanage in Uganda.  The money came together in a matter of hours, and we were all dumbstruck.  We shouldn't have been surprised.  God is God.

Citychurch people:  I have to confess something here.  I was praying for something I already had.  I was blinded with discouragement from the devil.  I was sitting among the biggest group of crazy-ministry folks in my city.  I'm not exaggerating or bragging when I say that my church is the most dynamic, unusual, willing to try new things, all inclusive, ministry focused, outreach oriented church I know of.  I honestly believe it is true.  We do crazy-ministry things like riding our bikes out into low-income neighborhoods to serve children lunches in the summer, take a hundred children and almost a hundred pre-teens to a free camp every summer, specifically children who's families could never afford a summer camp on their own.  We take young people to a free camp in the mountains and on mission trips to let them serve.  We pick up vans full of children every Sunday, feed them and tell them about Christ.  Then we do something even crazier.  We let them sit in our church service without their parents there to watch them, while we set up cameras to record the service.  We teach Bible clubs across from elementary schools.  It's the most impactful work we do, but honestly the least flashy.  It is the front lines with Jesus important.  We serve a congregation of South Sudanese Christians in every way we can.  We teach a English as a Second Language -ESL- class.  We reach children and families in the "forgotten" part of Amarillo.   We spot their needs, and meet them.  This includes everything from Christmas presents and groceries, to shoes and underwear.  We have dreams and plans to minister in even more exciting and crazy ways in our city.  It doesn't even come close to reality when I say I love Citychurch.  The reason I can say that we do all of these wonderful things is because of our people.  If I started listing names, I'm afraid I might miss one.  If you have helped with any of these things listed, I mean you.  You're one of my partners in crime.

My husband James:  My best partner in crime ever.  He has always supported any ministry I wanted to get my hands dirty with.  I put him to work helping me every time, and he does it with a cheerful heart.  He's the best, and I tell him all the time.

It is amazing to me that I was surrounded by the kind of people I wanted to be surrounded by and I wasn't seeing it.  I think that happens to all of us at some point in our life.  We realize we already have the thing we are hoping and dreaming for.

Here's a good example.  If you live in America and you hope to be rich.  Open your eyes.  You already are.  Just check out http://www.globalrichlist.com/   (I'm richer than 89% of the world.  I bet you're up their too.)

Well, I was rich in crazy-sold-out Christ followers.  I was struck oil rich.  I should have been dancing in it, but I was looking around like a lost kid in the mall.

Thank you Lord for answering my prayer and for opening my eyes.

"Say to those who have an anxious heart, 'Be strong; fear not!  Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God.  He will come and save you.' Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then shall the lame man leap like a deer, and the tongue of the mute sing for joy." Isaiah 35:4-6

Lice and wasps. Oh my!

We have all heard that the devil likes to attack just before the Lord moves or uses us to further His kingdom.  Most of us have felt those attacks just before a mission trip or even just on Sunday morning.

I want to tell you about my first full fledged attack of Satan, and the first time I felt God used me in His ministry at Citychurch.  This story lives in my mind as a milestone in my ministry at Citychurch.  It was the first time I stuck through the rough stuff and came out the other side to see God move.  It was the first time God let me be a big part of what He had done.

August of 2000, Citychurch was still a new church, a new ministry.  It was summer, and we took a few of the youth aged kids to a youth camp, our second youth camp as a church.

James's family had started Citychurch just four years earlier.  The ministry was still very much a family affair.  So the camp staff was just our family: me, James, his sister Anna, their brother Donnie, and his wife Shanda.  And we took our two year olds along.  We had our daughter Lucy, and Donnie and Shanda had their daughter Alexis.

I don't think I've ever shared this, and James's family might even be surprised to hear the whole story.

If you've ever been to camp or worked at a camp, their is this pattern that emerges.  I worked at a Girl Scout camp the summer after high school, and I started calling the pattern the Wednesday blues.

How camp always goes: 

Early in the week, the campers arrive, they are happy to be there, they are making new friends.  It's all good. 

Wednesday afternoon, rumbling starts.  All the new friends are beginning to get on each other's nerves.  The campers realize camp is half over, and they are either mad it is going so quickly or devastated because it feels like forever before they will get to go home. 

Wednesday night is sure to have some crying and a few fights. 

Thursday everyone is depressed.  They miss their mom, they miss their bed, they miss their dog.  They are sick of spiders.  They're scared of the dark.  Get the Kleenex out, crying is going to happen and happen hard. 

Friday everyone loves everyone again.  They've just survived the most traumatic night of their life together.  Group photos ensue.  They are going to miss everyone when they go home.  Everyone swears to pen pal it up. 

And goodbye.

So I was aware of this pattern, and when I was feeling the blues Wednesday morning, I thought I was just feeling the Wednesday blues.   Then the hits started coming.  I realized that my two year old Lucy had lice.

Now days at Citychurch, if you are involved in a Citychurch camp, lice is part of the plan.  It's in the camp budget.  Lice checks are done before we load them into a van.  It's just a fact of life in inner-city mission work.  We have a saying at our church.  It is one of our ten truths that my father in law Don Lane wrote when we started the church.  "It will all wash off or we will find something to kill it."

Back at camp, I didn't know what to do about Lucy's lice.  Lucy and I had been sleeping together.  So I checked my head.  I had lice.

I'm itching just writing this.

I don't know if you've ever had lice before, but it gets you mentally.  You feel violated.  Parasites are living on you, and you didn't even know it.  You feel like all your fears of what a white-trash, slob you are are finally confirmed.  It's depressing man.

I wanted to go home.  The reason I didn't get in my car and leave was two things.  One, my husband said,  "We only have one more day left of camp.  Just stay; we can deal with it when we get home."  Reason two was Donnie had asked me to share my testimony with the group the next night.  I didn't want to not do the one thing he had asked me to contribute to the camp.

So I stayed.  I let the parasites occupy my head and my daughters head for one more night.

I was feeling pretty crummy the next morning.  It was our last day of camp.  I was trying to hang in there that last day, but I was feeling attacked.  Mentally I was pretty kaput.  It was lunch time, and I was lingering around the cabins feeling sorry for my lice-having self.

My husband James came and found me to give me one of his world-famous pep talks.  (He's a pro at let's get out of the dumps chats.  If you ever need one, I can give you his number.)  He convinced me to go get some lunch.

As we were walking across the bridge to the cafeteria, I was stung by a wasp.  I broke down.  I balled my eyes out.  It didn't actually hurt that bad, but everything hit me with that sting.

I told God that I was mad he was letting this happen.  I just wanted to be there to help ministry to the kids, and everything was just not fair.  I don't know why you feel better after a good cry, maybe it's a brain chemical thing, but I did.  I had hit rock bottom, and I was ready to see that youth camp to the end.

That night I shared my testimony.  It was the first time I had shared it in front of a group.  Group speaking isn't my thing, but God used my weakness.  A teenage girl came forward to pray and give her life to the Lord.  This teenage girl and I had nothing in common, but God used my story to reach her heart.

I had not expected anyone to respond to my testimony.  I will never forget the feeling when I realized that if I had went home when I wanted to, that camp might have turned out differently.

God had moved.  And I had learned how to stick it out through the devil's attacks to get to that moment when God uses our weakness to accomplish His strength.

This is a lesson I've leaned on so many times in the ministry I've been a part of between then and now.  God showed me that He was faithful to do His work and no matter what the devil throws at me, I can stick it out because God will get me through it.