God sized dreams...

This weekend I got to meet my husband's co-worker Josh and his beautiful wife Gretchen.  After a Sunday afternoon lunch of BBQ ribs and Craig's homemade baked beans we went outside and enjoyed the spring sunshine.  It was not the sunshine that warmed me, but the passion and heartbeat that this young couple permeated.

I smiled deep as we talked.  I still am.  I have realized my kind of people, are people like Josh and Gretchen.  People who are living out God sized dreams, loving Jesus out loud by simply being obedient despite the cost.  

Get this....only married 10 months... freshly young, newlyweds and here they are living out this God sized journey.  In a month or so they will be leaving for Cambodia.  They will be working with Rapha House.  Rapha House's mission is "to love, rescue, and heal children who have been rescued from trafficking and sexual exploitation."  They will be working with a safe house and a half-way house in Phnom Pehn, Cambodia.  They are passionate about Jesus and instead of buying into some illusion of an American dream they are starting their lives together following God's call to be love in action.  Oh, I am savoring the unusual in this, yet my heart hurts because it needs to be the usual.  Young people seeking God's will for their lives in kingdom venues instead of worldly ones.

Talking with Gretchen, brought me back to a younger version of myself.  We were similar in a lot of ways, but one thing that starkly contrasted my own story was that at age 22 she already had the faith to step into the water.  It took me years to dissolve the fear and acquire the faith I needed to drown me and my dreams.   Many layers had to be stripped down before I relented to be that lump of clay that God wanted me to be so He could shape me for His purpose.  As I stood on the back deck, soaking in her story I marveled at how amazing a life can be when you do just that, surrender & obey. 

Simply put, I walked away from our time together completely inspired by the story they are writing.  So inspired I am writing this post, hoping you will rally around them in prayer and possibly pray about helping them to achieve the last bit needed to support them.  If not that, to beg you to be part of standing up for those whose innocence is being stolen by tyrants who think no one will stand up against them.

Is there no longer any David's to stand against the giants?
I met a couple this weekend that are willing to fight.
I believe God wants to rally an army.
An army of giant slayers!

I share the Day's passion in this.  The DRC has stats that sicken me.  An article released in 2011 stated that "About 48 women are raped in the Democratic Republic of the Congo every hour."  I sponsor a beautiful girl for school who is living daily with the scars of sexual exploitation.  I will not turn a blind eye to this plight.  Her story is real.  She has a name.  She is someone's daughter, and I think of her as my own when I pray for her.  More then that she is my sister in Christ.   

You can read more about about Josh and Gretchen's ministry on their blog: "Hope for the Hopeless"  I hope you will follow their journey.  I hope you will rally with them and pray for them.  I hope you will pray about what God wants you to do to fight the giant of sex trafficking that is being ignored by so many, whether it be in Cambodia, the DRC, or right here in the US.

Living out a dream of God sized proportion makes you a bit of an addict.  So I am going to keep pursuing them and supporting those who are.  I won't get so jaded that I will lose hope in people.  Instead I will keep encouraging others to start praying and seeking what God's purpose and plan is for their lives.  I will keep praying that more people will be unshackled by the weights of fear and finances as they kick comfortable Christianity in the face.  I am dreaming big.  I am praying for some God sized dreams to grip the hearts of a few seniors that are graduating this year.  I am praying constantly that God will always lead my children on a path that is His, and they will choose it even if it seems risky.  I am also waiting... and praying... and asking God what is next for me, our family....  because I know He isn't done with us yet.

I am kinda thinking He might not be done with you either....

Kaka School Update

looking back...

I came back from Africa with my son...

and realized I never would be the same.

Part of my heart was gone

and would forever remain in the Congo,

the birth country of my Zalen.

As I grieved and struggled to find my place

after the airport

so many of you rallied around me

listened to this new heartbeat

that God created through the broken

and instead of rolling your eyes

you joined in

to buy mosquito nets on World Malaria Day

you joined in

and donated items and helped me with the yard sale

for this school...for the children I left behind....

A little over a year ago I was here...

taking in all of this
and realizing compassion was not enough

 

and now...

 

The school at Kaka is almost complete!

Thanks to a lot of people working together to make a big difference!

Small added up quickly.

My timid of goal of raising $500 for this dream was blown out of the water

I think all together we raised around $1,100 through donations/yard sale

Many other people around the country joined our efforts.

I am very thankful for the non-for-profit who partnered along side our agency

to take this project to completion.  I seriously love Mama J.'s pet projects!  

Hopefully, I will get to meet the founders, the Boe family, at the annual 

"Golf for Congo" fundraiser this summer in Wisconsin ----> June 17th, 2013

Make sure you like their page because they are doing some great things in the DRC!

 

Be Their Hope Website

Be Their Hope Facebook Page

A pile of pancakes

God is doing that stirring and tearing of my heart again....
I say things out loud and don't even realize the weight of words spoken...

Words like ... "This Easter weekend has been so busy because I had so much food to prepare.  I have been cooking/baking for two days."  The twins sixth birthday was on Good Friday, so as soon as I wrapped up the celebration of that, I went right into Easter preparations.  Cupcakes, angel food cake, cookies, 4 layer dessert, another cake, and two different dishes of potatoes, topped off with an early 5 a.m. breakfast casserole. 

I sat there at breakfast, after the early Sonrise service, and stared at my section of egg casserole.  The stress still knotted my stomach.  I clutched my cup of coffee as if it were a lifeline to keep my eyelids from drooping.  I made polite conversation with my mom, and swam the pieces of fruit through the pond of juice that had gathered.  Here I was back on this worn and weary road I had promised myself not to return to.

A peach shirt decked with a striped tie sauntered in the room.  Black dress shoes sauntered into the fellowship hall, one untied already.  One finger was in his mouth, as he quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching him.  He didn't notice that I was.  The buffet of food sat idle, the lines of people decked in Easter finery now sat at colorful adorned tables chatting and eating.  They didn't notice the boy with the deep brown eyes fixated on the tower of pancakes that had not made it onto anyone's plate.  I sighed deep.  It had been a trying week, lessons thrown to the way side as I gave up the struggle to fight for his attention.  If only ABC's and colors could hold his attention like that plate of pancakes did right now, I thought to myself.

He kept inching closer as if the pancakes were whispering promises of buttery goodness.  It did not matter that his belly was quite full.  It didn't matter that his plate had been thrown away and the usual warning issued, "No more food, you are done."  This open buffet of uneaten food was a persistent blip on his radar that continued to lure him away from the play going on elsewhere.  He took one more look around.  I stood for attention as his slobbered fingers were dislodged from their sensory sucking to be replaced by the golden browned orb of goodness.  One step forward and his arm stopped reaching mid-air as he eyes met mine.  I was tired and when our gazes met & held, he did not see an ounce of humor or compassion. He was met by a steely glance that had been tried one to many times.  I managed some composure and weakly said, "Zalen, no more food."

"Okkkk.." he said, his voice fluctuating barely audible on the o sound, lulling forward to more emphasis on the k, grinding and drawling it out in his frustration of being caught.  Since he had drawn the attention of a few, he gave a crooked grin and left on legs that were trying to gallop, but had contracted a case of the hiccups instead.  A curly headed girl that I adore had arrived for a late breakfast fresh off the church van.   She was more then eager to let me know he already swiped part of her pancake without me knowing.  She grinned at me at the close of her story as if to say that she was on Zalen's side, not mine.  In that moment, a small crack started in my heart. 

The morning went on, hymns sang, message preached.  The tomb was empty, Christ had arose.  I wasn't there.  I was still stuck on Good Friday.  I couldn't pass off the feelings of guilt, as I tried to comprehend why Jesus would do that for me.  I couldn't get past the leftovers.  The leftovers of abundance, a roaster pan full of uneaten pancakes and biscuits.  The leftovers of my weary soul that I had brought to Easter service.  Why God?  my heart asked... do you let me have all of this... when others are suffering, carrying the cross?  Why do we have piles of pancakes when others have nothing.  Why?  Why God?  Why would you die for me.. who has lived so selfishly and unaware for so long.  Even now, after you have opened my eyes, I still forget and go back to the desires of the flesh.  My cracked heart, began to leak.  

My doubts don't lie in whether or not Jesus rose from the tomb, my doubts lie in why He would choose to trust me with abundance.  Why He would choose to use me for His plan?

^16-17 Meanwhile, the eleven disciples were on their way to Galilee, headed for the mountain Jesus had set for their reunion. The moment they saw him they worshiped him. Some, though, held back, not sure about worship, about risking themselves totally.

When I met my resurrected Savior on Easter Sunday, I had some doubts as I touched his nail scarred hands.  The weight of that sacrifice pressed heavy, making me doubt that He had chosen wisely when He chose me, a pile of filthy rags, for His plan.  The selfishness wrapped around all my first world problems were written clearly on my heart, but yet here Jesus stood, freshly sacrificed.  The question was simple, was I willing to do the same?

Am I willing to risk totally?
If I give all myself what does that mean?

That is the question wrecking my heart today.

It is black-and-white that we are the one with the extra pancakes that others are hungry for....

The question is "What are we... What am I going to do about it?"


P.S. Make sure you check out my giveaway in the post below if you haven't already!