Aug 4, 2010 | Stories
Last week I quietly celebrated a little personal anniversary. It was five years ago that I boarded a plane from Atlanta, Georgia to venture toward a new life in Scotland. My big brother and I landed in London on July 28th, and on the 29th we were on our way up the island to my new home in Edinburgh. Wet behind the ears and totally uncertain of what was ahead, it is funny to look in a mirror five years later and see the same person, and yet a very different person, looking back at me.
I’ve learned so many things from getting outside of my own culture and customs, ministering in different ways in different places, experiencing Scotland for four years and now South Africa for almost one. I’ve celebrated joys and high moments with cartwheels in city parks and I’ve cried my eyes out in low moments on borrowed pillows. I’ve spent more consecutive days, weeks and months away from the home where I spent my first 17 years than I ever expected. I’ve taken risks I never thought I would take. I’ve made decisions I never thought I would have to make.
And if I sit still and quiet just long enough to reflect on the most important thing I’ve learned, it’s something I knew before I ever boarded the plane.
I need Jesus.
No matter how strong I think I am, after selling my stuff and arriving in a new country with three suitcases and hopes as high as the sky, after a couple of years of living on my own halfway around the world, after setting aside the tangible dream of a paid-for PhD for a bigger dream, and after moving continents again, this time with my husband and baby boy, the truth remains absolutely the same:
I need Jesus.
I cannot miss taking a quiet moment to read the Word and pray, to find the Centre of the universe and aim to make Him the Centre of my life. If I miss Him for a day, I might slide by okay. If I let busyness draw me away for two or three days, or more, the struggle begins. I struggle to keep kindness on my tongue. I struggle to keep peace in my heart. I struggle to listen for the still, small voice. Worries and anxieties begin to strangle joy. Sometimes I even struggle just to get good sleep.
Without Him, I can do a lot, but none of it is really worth doing. Without Him, I can say a lot, but it’s usually stuff that’s not worthwhile saying. No matter how unique or special my story might seem, it’ll be insignificant in the end if it’s lived without Him and His big picture in mind.
But with Him I have the hope of glory. With Him I have the hope of a life lived that matters. With Him I have the hope of bearing fruit that remains.
Twenty-eight years, three degrees, three continents, one husband, one son, more addresses than I can count, five long years far away from the place that still feels home.
This is the Truth I need every day, the Centre that matters the most:
I need Jesus.
He’s not my crutch, my illusion of comfort in a weary world, or a reason for me to try to be good enough to get by. He is all that matters and I’m daily a debtor to grace. And apart from Him, though it sounds like foolishness to the world, I finally see it: I can do nothing.
The Good News: you don’t have to travel halfway around the world to find the most important Truth there is to find. He’s been everywhere you are, waiting for you all along. My thoughts about risking life without Him are well described on a vehicle I was a little surprised to see here in SA:
xCC
P.S. Sorry things have been quiet for a few days! Things have been busy with our move, lack of internet, and a power outage, but I have an amazing story to share with you…and I plan to share it tomorrow!
Jul 27, 2010 | Stories
Based on the rabbit trails you might be led down from yesterday’s post, I feel that it is important for me to mention that my ideology is not moving in the direction of communism, or even socialism. I am not anti-capitalism. Unbridled capitalism, however, fueled by greed and bottom lines is a dangerous train that’s hard to slow down. I also feel it is important to acknowledge that many of us have what we have, perhaps because of hard work, but perhaps more because of opportunity. I am thankful that the Lord chose to bless me with the family He did. I received more than enough, including an extensive education — I was given enough opportunity that I literally think, within reason, the possibilities for my life have been limitless. If I worked hard, in my place, in my sphere, I probably could’ve become anything I wanted to be.
I used to swim competitively. My favourite moment was standing on the blocks…looking at the smooth, rippleless waters in front of me, seeing a race, a flip turn, a sprint to the finish (I never was much of a distance swimmer) and seeing possibility waiting to welcome me as my fingertips slipped past the surface. We’d each climb onto those blocks, all identical in height and width and build, (the starting blocks, not the swimmers!) and we each had a chance at winning.
But we cannot ignore the fact that in the race of life, we don’t all the start on the same blocks. And if I’d ever been in a race where everyone else had starting blocks and I didn’t, I think it would be reasonable for me to say This is an unfair race! We know life deals us different cards. And we love stories where people overcome…where people who don’t have those blocks to dive off end up winning the race.
The second most famous swimmer in South Africa is Natalie du Toit. She was hit by a car riding her scooter from swim practice to school, and one of her legs was amputated from the knee down. Before she could even walk again, she was back in the pool. She won gold at the Paralympics in 2004 and 2008, and was the first amputee ever to qualify for the Olympic Games. She competed in Beijing in 2008 and placed 16th in the 10K swim. Swimming against people with two legs.
It feels good when the victor is the last one anybody expected.
It sounds beautiful when Jesus says Let him who is without sin cast the first stone, because we know an underdog nobody expected has just been given a second chance.
It warms our hearts when Paul says I don’t have money for you, but in Jesus’ Name, get up and walk because value was placed on someone society didn’t see as very valuable. That second chance…that new start…that underdog victory…that leg up onto the stallion of opportunity can bring us to our feet with cheers of joy, to our knees with hearts of thankfulness.
If you know Jesus, you know second chances.
And what I want to say is that we, who were given some great blocks to dive into the pool of life from, have countless opportunities to be a blessing, to be a help, to be a voice for people who weren’t given any blocks at all. Do I want any government at any point in time to dictate how and to whom we’re a blessing? No.
Because I believe the power is right where is belongs…the energy and resources are available…the possibility that we could be the generation that eliminates extreme poverty and human trafficking, the generation that makes sure everyone has access to clean water and basic food supplies…it is absolutely within our grasp.
And when I say “we,†I speak to the Church, the bride of Christ…the pearl of great price that the Merchant gave everything to buy.
In science class, we learned the difference between potential and kinetic energy. A stretched out rubber band has potential energy, which can set a chain of events in motion. If a paper clip rests inside the stretched rubber band, the rubber band has the potential to launch the paper clip across the room. When someone lets go, the energy becomes kinetic — there is movement. There is change. There is no longer the potential that something will happen. It happens, and then it happened.
It just takes us grasping hold of the potential we have and releasing that energy toward a common purpose. We have the strength and resources to launch something bigger than a paper clip. And the trajectory could stretch to the ends of the Earth.
Do you see a goal you could cling to today? A cause you would give up your creature comforts for? Make Jesus the reason. Make Jesus the cause. Let Jesus be the One who inspires you to make a difference in the world around you.
If we are the generous people we’ve been called to be, we won’t need government regulation of charity. We, the Church, can lead the way to make the world a better place for everyone. We could change the world for the better. We are changing the world in a lot of good ways. The question is will we live up to our full potential? We could do so much more.
“Is this not the fast that I have chosen: To loose the bonds of wickedness, To undo the heavy burdens, To let the oppressed go free, And that you break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, And that you bring to your house the poor who are cast out; When you see the naked, that you cover him, And not hide yourself from your own flesh? Then your light shall break forth like the morning, Your healing shall spring forth speedily, And your righteousness shall go before you; The glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.”
Isaiah 58:6-8
xCC
Jul 26, 2010 | South Africa, Stories
Hero Hubs and I live in a nice and safe security complex here in Gordon’s Bay. Most of the people who own property here only use it for a month or so out of the year. Most of the people who do live here all year long probably rent. Like us. You guys have seen pictures…it’s a pretty little neighbourhood, regardless of how long you’re hanging around. The Bear and I often enjoy a stroll around the harbour, him on his car, me toting along a snack I’m pretending is for him that I’m actually eating while hoping no one sees… and sometimes going for a walk here feels like a brief holiday.
But beneath the surface of our pretty wee neighbourhood, there are things that really get under my skin.
See, there’s this gardener, who I would like to call… James. He covers the grounds of most of the complex, works hard, takes the rubbish up on Mondays for pickup, is kind and friendly, and goes out of his way to help when he can. Once when the water was out in Gordon’s Bay, HH crossed the street to buy a big jug at Pick n’ Pay (the one where I got those magical pictures so cheap.) I ran into James when I carried some trash downstairs to the bins in the basement parking and mentioned that we had water if he wanted to come up and get some. Within minutes he was at our door and we filled a big bottle for him to take with him. And I realised if we hadn’t offered him water, he probably would’ve gone without it for that entire ridiculously hot and sunny day.
We had a tough day a few weeks ago that you might’ve recognised if you were following along with the comments of this post. I was especially upset because there are some ladies who keep the floors and windows of the complex clean, and a while back one of them was pregnant. I would like to call her Beatrice. Beatrice was off for a while, and we assumed she’d had her baby and was taking some leave. Then she was back at work, her smiling, friendly self again but we’d only seen her in passing and not had the opportunity to speak.
On this particular day, HH and I were having dinner and he shared that when he was out for an errand earlier he’d given Beatrice a ride to the taxi rank. He asked how the baby was doing and she shared the news that the baby had died. The doctors said it was of natural causes and she didn’t really know why it had happened.
I can only assume poverty, poor sanitation, perhaps even lack of education played a roll.
But all the pictures of Beatrice smiling and playing with the Bear and waving to him as he strolls by suddenly whooshed past my mind in one big tidal wave and I was a mess of tears and could hardly finish my meal. HH apologised for upsetting me (which was certainly an unnecessary apology). A few days later I tried to tell her how sorry I was, and I felt like a blubbering mess.
Our dinner continued as HH shared that he’d had a conversation with James where he discovered that James makes 350 Rand per week. That is less than 50 US dollars. Including toiletries and diapers, I probably spend almost double that just for a week’s worth of groceries. And we don’t eat none too high on the hog. He probably only has 300 Rand left after paying for transport to get to work.
Here are the reasons I struggle not to be enraged by this. James works for a company that is contracted in to keep the grounds of our friendly secure Pleasantville tidy and green. He has asked the homeowner’s association (made up of some people who live here all year and some who don’t) to consider paying him directly instead of paying the company, but they aren’t interested. They would rather the paperwork be outsourced, I’m sure. So it’s likely that someone is making good money off James’s back, while he fights to make ends meet with a family of four.
Why doesn’t James find another job? might be your first question. Because This is Africa. Unemployment is currently at three gabillion percent. I’ve already told you that we pass guys by the dozen waiting for work on the side of the road day in and day out. A sorry job is better than no job.
A couple weeks ago James’s bike was stolen. That probably means he has to pay extra taxi fare (and taxi fare is HIGH) just to get to work at this poor-paying job on time every day. HH and I have been hoping to find a deal somewhere so that we can bless him with another bike. But sometimes it just feels like that’s not enough.
The trouble is, if my outspoken, overprotective American self tries to speak up for James, I wonder if he might be out of a job for it.
But how far down does the rabbit hole go? How many millions of millions are in these situations? The people who made the shoes you’re wearing? The people who harvested the coffee for our morning lattes? Or just the guy who keeps the grounds tidy for the people who ride by in their Mercedes and Ferraris?
And even if he’s the only one…isn’t he worth fighting for?
xCC
*Tomorrow, before anyone starts to slay me, or in case there are concerns, I’ll explain why I’m not a communist.
Jul 22, 2010 | Guest Posts, Stories
Hero Hubs made our un-anniversary anniversary celebration a really lovely one, friends! Were you waiting with baited breath to hear? Fibber. Can you believe this was more than three years ago? Fibber.
Our celebration was a moment of lovely surprises. I love surprises. We started by enjoying the warm and sunny late afternoon at the V&A Waterfront in Cape Town… munching some lekker hors d’ouerves with the Bear in tow. We moseyed {I looked it up — that’s how you spell it!} over to the lovely apartment of a friend of a friend where we spent the night — views of Table Mountain and stunning Cape Town in every direction, right there at the waterfront — it was gorgeous.
Our friends were so lovely and welcomed us with drinks (of course there was no alcohol — were you concerned? Fibber!) and carried our bags up for us. We fed the Bear and tucked him in, and with our wonderful friends/babysitters holding down the fort went out to dinner at an amazing restaurant on the Waterfront called Den Anker. With a uniquely Belgian-flare, we celebrated three scrumiddlyumptious years with a few of our favourite things: steak, a cold beer (for HH), ice cream (for HH) and Belgian chocolate mousse (for me – and most females). And then we floated home on a cloud.
This morning we enjoyed breakfast on the balcony watching Cape Town stretch her arms and legs and get out of bed. I saw the early yawns when I {neeeeeded} some bran flakes before 7:00. And we strolled our way back to the Waterfront to grab a latte for the road. Sigh…back to emails and phone calls. Itineraries and schedules. And laundry. 🙂 That mini-holiday made us realise how much we need a real one. (When my Mom arrives in August, holiday will too!)
However, we did make one special stop on the way home: we had our first ultrasound! It was amazing. We were in the US for the first part of my last pregnancy, and then travelled back to the UK after the point at which they do ultrasounds unless there are concerns, so we’d never properly had that warm-fuzzy ultrasound experience before.
Except for a trip to the emergency room at about ten weeks which turned out to be acute gastritis and we couldn’t properly see anything — the Bear was a peanut with a (still awe-inspiring) choo-choo train heartbeat so it doesn’t count. That was kind of a weird emergency situation, but everything was fine. A post for another day.
This little one was waving and wiggling, tiny arms and legs all a-flutter, heart beating fastfastfast…it was just so special. I tried to discreetly wipe away the occasional tear. And for reasons too difficult to explain unless you REALLY want me to take the time to do so, I just cannot post an ultrasound picture of this special little life here. Sorry. You’re gonna have to wait for the pictures on the outside!
Last thought on this post that seems to have been all over the place… 23 Months and Counting :: Life is Short is a post by yours truly, featured at Pure Life today. I hope you’ll take a moment to mosey on over and enjoy it. Will you come back and let me know what you think? Or even that you’re mad at me for not sharing ultrasound pics?
K, thanks. Love you, too. And I’m not a fibber! 😉
xCC
(and the little one eating my lunch)
Jul 16, 2010 | Stories, The Good Word
It has been really exciting to share the good news about what’s happening in our lives at the moment. (If you missed all this…where ya been?) But I sometimes find at the moments when life feels the most like a whoosh…..swoosh…roller coaster, where everything is tilting around a curve while you’re looking for a new place to live in thirty days or less and waiting on a roaming potato to get out of the shop and trusting for the finances for plane tickets to head home for Christmas just a little early because you’re due in February… These are the moments where I either begin to find the One who’ll hold me together, or I begin to fall apart.
It’s been said that, “A Bible that’s falling apart usually belongs to someone who isn’t.”*
A few weeks ago, this was my Bible…
Would you like a closer look at what’s happening on the left edge there?
The Duck Tape worked for a few years but then a few weeks ago…
As the Bear recently learned to say if he drops something or a bedroom shoe slips off as he climbs onto the couch … “Oh Nooh!”
The pages from Genesis 3 to Exodus 14 came completely out. It was a sad day.
I’ve had this Bible since early 2002. It’s a Woman’s Study Bible by Thomas Nelson Publishers. It’s hardback, and it started out with a lovely yellow protective cover with blue flowers, which I eventually wore to pieces and had to discard. It has lots of good study notes, articles and charts, and lots of space in the margins, which I sure do like. But after years of constant use, travelling in suitcases and backpacks, and feeding my soul almost daily on three continents, it was beginning to wear thin. The fact that I kept love notes and reading plans inside probably didn’t help. I found that matching blue duck tape a few years ago and I reinforced the wearing-away spine. You might’ve thought it was ghetto, but I found it endearing. And helpful!
But finally a few weeks ago, when it became clear that the Bible wouldn’t last me much longer, and Genesis made an Exodus, I decided to write Thomas Nelson Publishers a note. I shared with them about what this Bible had meant to me. How it had spent time with me in several countries and time zones. How it was there when I first sensed God calling me to missions in Mexico, how it travelled with me to Africa for the first time, and when I moved to Scotland. I thanked them for their hard work in making it a great resource and study tool, and shared with them the sadness that it was “on its final chapter.” I asked if they might be able to donate another Bible to a missionary on a tight budget in South Africa. And I kid you not, within a day they’d kindly responded, and within forty-eight hours or so:
HOW this got from Tennessee to South Africa so quickly, I do not know.
But a shiny new Second Edition Woman’s Study Bible was on my kitchen counter.
And I am very happy to have a new Bible to wear out!
There is no Word like this Word! No good news like the Good News of Jesus! I have found joy and peace in no other place like I have in this place. And that Bible that fell apart, on countless occasions did hold me together.
Thank you very much, Thomas Nelson Publishers, for blessing me with a gift that gives like no other, in perfect timing. I hope that if I know what’s good for me, this good Word will begin to look worn in, in no time.
Well friends, what does the Word mean to you?
xCC
*Whether this quote is properly attributed to Spurgeon, Havner or someone else — I could not confirm at time of posting. If you know and would like to help us all out, I’d appreciate it.
Jul 14, 2010 | Stories
You may have arrived at this corner of the net this morning and wondered why everything’s a teaser. (That’s what they call it when you can only read the first few sentences of something and then you have to click to read more.) What’s the deal, pray tell? Well, you obviously weren’t paying attention yesterday!
I have a some special news to share with you. But I’m not exactly sure how best to share it, so I’ve decided to create three posts to share the news, and then you can choose how you want to hear it. Or read it. You know. I’ll make a straightforward announcement in pictures, another with a Top Ten list, and also with some (hopefully) interesting code-speak for those of you who would rather try to figure out the news for yourself. All three posts hit the web today, so head back to the home page, click your first choice, and enjoy being enlightened!
Happy Wednesday!
xCC
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