Of Steering Wheels and VIPs

I can’t believe I’ve been in Mexico for a whole month now! It’s insane! I really do apologize for not blogging more. But I have found that I get really, really busy.  Part of what God is doing in me here is calling me to lay down my OCD, must-fill-my-planner, and overtly American personality type.  God wants me working directly under Him, meaning I have to ask what to do on a daily basis! It can be almost infuriatingly simple at first. Honestly, it is much harder than you think to not “do” anything. But, and I confess it is almost to my surprise, God has put more stuff “to do” in my lap than I could have possibly coordinated if I had ever tried. I find that I suddenly have meetings with the most amazing people from different churches here. Out of nowhere, people just call and ask me to lead worship at special events. Bands invite me to play with them or even perform at a concert. People who need to talk show up at my door.  A guy came running up to me on the beach, told me he just “knew” he had to talk to me, and ended up giving his life to Christ. It’s insane! I still cannot quite fathom how this principle—which is so simple that it should be the easiest thing I’ve ever done—seems to feel so foreign to me.

This morning God showed me a picture of a little kid sitting on his father’s lap in a car. Did your dad ever let you sit on his lap in a parking lot to “drive” with him? Obviously, he had his feet on the pedals and his hands on the wheel, but he let you pretend along with him. Well, in this image, the kid wouldn’t let go of the steering wheel. Actually, the kid was using all of his strength to try to steer the car his own way. The car just went in circles because the kid could only pull the wheel to one side and hold on. Then it hit me: That’s me! How often does God give me a chance to come up on His lap and participate in what He’s already doing, and I, for “some reason,” feel like I have to take over and do it myself. Have you ever felt that way?

***

I’ve been reading the story of David, and the Psalms. Today, though, my reading was about Solomon asking God for wisdom. God replies to him, “I will give you a wise and discerning heart, so that there will never have been anyone like you, nor will there ever be” (see 1 Kings 3:10-14). That verse sort of stuck like a lump in my chest. Creeping into the dark corners of my mind, in a hushed sort of voice, was a sentiment: why can’t I have that? Now, don’t give me a knee-jerk response on this one. Have you not ever seen someone “receive a word” or something and said to yourself, Golly, I wish I could have that too. I wonder why God speaks to them so clearly but not me… If you’re feeling me on this one, you’re on the right track. If not, just listen to yourself for a while. We’ve all experienced spiritual envy—wanting the kind of closeness with God we perceive in some undefined “everyone else.”

I found myself looking at Solomon, envious of course, of this ridiculous gift. The guy was just given unlimited minutes on God’s private line! What?!  He doesn’t have to do a darn thing, either. God just says that He will “give” it to him. No fair! Why can’t God reveal himself to me in a dream and ask me what I want? Come on, you know you’ve wrestled with this yourself. Or do you think about what you read when you put the Eternal Word of the Almighty God in front of your face?

This line of thinking is fairly important. It comes to the heart of many people’s issues with God. Is He the kind of guy that has “special favorites,” people who get all the VIP invites? If so, what makes them so special? And, if you’re like me, you will instantly define yourself as one of the people on the outside. Bottom line: Do you believe that God will make Himself as completely available to you as he did with Solomon, Moses, David, Joshua, or any other “VIP” we read about in the Old Testament?

James 1:5 says the following: “If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him.”

Did you catch that? It will be given to him. Now, we could hang out in the oohs and ahhs of how we will be given wisdom, too. But something has radically changed in this passage. Did you hear it? “If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God.” He should ask.  He should ask God.

If you remember, God is the one who showed up in the Solomon story. God took the initiative and asked him what he wanted. I’m not sure if I can fully express what’s going on between these two verses. Do you realize that you were just given the VIP invite of the century? You don’t have to wait for some “appearance” or “vision” or “dream” of God—YOU may ask him. Right now. I’m not kidding. If God had not come to Solomon and asked him, he may well have had a successful reign anyway. But he would never have had that kind of wisdom. He had no way to make such demands of God.

Now, if we follow this line of reasoning through, then we must conclude that God has actually made himself more available to us than those “special” people I mentioned earlier. Obviously, God is omnipresent to everyone in every situation, but we’ve been told to ask! And in being told to ask him, it follows logically that God is going to hear us. And if God is going to hear us, he has to be listening! Let me blow your mind here a little bit…

Revelation 3:20 says: “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.” That’s a verse that we so often use in terms of the conversion experience—repentance, sinners giving their lives to Christ. What if we took it a step further and applied it to ourselves? These words, after all, were written to believers. They were written first to people who supposedly have already repented! The church Christ spoke those words to was accused, essentially, of becoming to comfortable in their faith. But even then, Christ was waiting for them at the door.

Are you picking up on the implications of this? The God of Eternity, the One who spoke the earth into being, the One whose voice will have the final say over everything that ever was or will be, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, is standing outside of your door on the off chance that you will wake up and open it. He has so humbled himself that He is waiting—on YOU. He has chosen to give you the say in whether or not you open the door. But He’s hanging on your every word, listening like a cat on the prowl for the slightest invitation on your part. Can you even fathom the… the stupidity of this?! He’s the king! Why not send in the armed guard to burn down your door and put you in prison for not letting Him in? Why not show up in full force and order you to ask for something? Isn’t that what we’re asking for when we whine that He doesn’t show up in our lives like He did in Solomon’s case? Why does He just… stand there waiting?

God. Is. Love. He is the eternal gentleman. He who has the power to dry up the oceans has solemnly decided not to violate your free will.  If you do not want him to have a part in your life, He will not force you. Oh, you’ll have to fight tooth and nail for your entire life to shake off His love. He will not give you up as easily as the Enemy tries to convince you. But believe me when I say that God was serious when He talked about the joy in Heaven if even one person came to Christ. We are under a better promise than Solomon! We have the Holy Spirit! And if we have the Spirit, then it’s time we start acting like people who have the King’s ear.

Which brings us back to the steering wheel. Why do you hold on to it? Do you try to control everything because, deep down, you doubt that God will come through—for you. Sure, He’ll help that other person who is so “spiritual.” But not you. Wrong! That is a Satanic lie, my friend. God will not only come through, FOR YOU, in every possible situation, but He will so make Himself available to you that you will need only to ask him on a moment-by-moment basis and he will open the floodgates of Heaven. Do you want to “hear” the voice of God? Do you want to be “lead” by the Spirit like all those “other people”? Well, for goodness’ sake, don’t you know that He’s reading this blog right along with you? Ask him! Let go of the steering wheel! Stop going in circles and trust that God will come through for you.

Trust that God will give you the desires of your heart when you first put your delight in him. I will warn you that it’s a learning process. You may not wake up tomorrow and have a “word” for your grandmother. But, and I can only attest to it personally, God will teach you exactly what you need at the exact moment you need it. He will prepare you for things you couldn’t have imagined if you had tried and you will be ready, right on time. Operating in the Spirit doesn’t mean that you can bust out tongues at the drop of a hat or that you shake like a psycho when worship music starts. It means that you consciously, day by day, make a choice to present yourself to God and say, “Do whatever you want. You know better than I do what the desires of my heart are. And I trust you.” Those words will change your life. And just as God said to Solomon that there would never be anyone like him again, there will never be anyone like you again. God has something specifically planned for YOU that no one else gets to do. So your day-by-day walk with God will logically look different than that of other people. Don’t let that frighten you, or worse yet, don’t let it make you feel like whatever God is doing in you is somehow less important or valuable. If God Almighty wants to use you to talk to a random person at a grocery store and that’s your only assignment for the day, then I’ll step out on a limb and say that the action carries eternal importance and significance. I’m not going to go into specifics here, but trust me when I say that following God brings better things than you could have EVER dreamed of. Trust Him!

Be blessed. Decide today to take God at his word. Don’t let the voice of the Enemy make you feel like you’re on the outside loop for one more second. You. You, yes, You—you already are God’s VIP.

"another fine bit of writing brought to you by yours truly"

Scandalous Grace... and Puppies!

1 John 3:1a "See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!"

     I know I probably should give you a moment-by-moment update of my latest adventure--namely, moving to Mexico... but honestly, it would take hours. The basic things you need to know: God put in me under the care of the most ridiculously hospitable family I've ever known, and they're renting me a house here in Ensenada (really Chapultepec), very close to all my YUGO friends. I can't even express how astonishing their kindness is; I don't know that I have ever seen anything like it up close. God is already opening so many doors that I'm losing track by the minute--youth group outings, acoustic concerts, English classes, and my dear friends who I've gotten to see! Emotions are always an up and down kind of thing, but I have to say that overall, here I've felt much more "up" than "down," the only hard thing really being waking up for the first time in my own house and realizing that... yep... I'm here. That's your update! Enjoy it. The Holy Spirit has put something else on my heart to write....

      It involves another update that may interest some of you. I have a puppy!  Yep. You called it. The tie-dye toting, save-the-whatever-it-was-we-were-saving Eugene girl indeed found a Mexican puppy wandering the streets and took it in. Who likes to be all alone in a house? I'll put up a picture of him below. But the thing is... the little guy has got mange. I'm not joking. I just... I know that he's my puppy. I know that God is going to heal him. And honestly, 24 hours after finding him on the street, taking him to the vet, and praying over him like no other, almost all of his scabs have already fallen off. Take that, modern science! But the strange thing is... God was just ministering to me via this little fluff ball all morning. And the fruit of that is what I'm about to share. So buckle up... because (you guessed it!) I've got a lot to say. 

     I'm going to narrate the story from a slightly different perspective. Let's take this puppy as a metaphor, shall we? You and me--we are the mange-ridden mongrel on the side of the road. Just deal with it. You're itchy, hot, thirsty. Some random person promised you a life, and then threw you out onto the streets to die. Just a tiny baby in this world, you had no idea what to do. So you wandered around eating whatever you could shove in your mouth. You followed all the wrong dogs into all the wrong places, and did all the wrong things. Oh, sure, you didn't really hurt anything--you were too weak for that. But little by little, whether you were doing "big" things or just wandering aimlessly, you became filthier and filthier. Pretty soon, you were downright contagious. Disgusting. Gross. People didn't want to come anywhere near you. Other dogs literally bit you if you sought help--and you have the wound on your tail to prove it. At this point, we'll push pause.

     Enter that strange human being. That one that you just knew you wanted to be close to. But you dared not get too close--so many other people have thrown rocks in your face... How could this one be any different? Yet something inside of you allowed a tiny seed of hope to take root. You followed the strange human around, still keeping your distance. But little by little, even if you just sat at the person's feet... you knew you couldn't leave. Then comes the gnawing doubt: Why on earth would this person ever notice me? I'm filthy. I itch. I'm covered in disgusting sores. My fur is matted and I'm hungry. I have absolutely nothing to offer except my contagious, gross self. Who on earth would take me?

    Strangely enough, though, as a knife slicing through the doubt, a hand reached down and wrapped a warm towel around you. Suddenly you found yourself inside of a cardboard box, being carried by some unforseen strength to a place of healing--the Veterinarian's office. It hurt at first--you had to get an injection, a painful bath, you were wrenched from the only life you'd ever known. You were left isolated in a new place. But just as quickly as you thought it was all over, you found yourself asleep in the sunshine, sitting in the Master's Lap, as he risked his own skin (literally!) to clean you, hair by hair. You gasped as he searched every part of you, the places you thought you could "deal with on your own." You hadn't realized how bad things really were. But soon enough, you were so used to it that you just lay belly up, taking in the love and comfort. 

     That's the scene here. Now let's shift the focus. What on earth is up with this idiot human being? What kind of moronic American wanders the streets of Mexico looking for a puppy? Seriously--there are millions of free puppies all over the face of the earth. Who gives a rat's patoot about this stupid little dog wandering the road? Just let the dumb thing die already! There are plenty more where that came from! Doesn't that person realize--mange can be dangerous to humans! Whoa, nelly! Let the pup go on its way--sooner or later, it'll just get hit by a car or starve to death... if it doesn't get violently eaten by something bigger. If this person wants a puppy, just buy a cute one. For goodness' sake, this little flea-infested sack of buyer's remorse isn't worth the time and effort. 

     Right?

     Not if we're talking about God. I don't know if we really fully grasp the scandal of God's grace. Can you imagine the way the spiritual realm gasped when he decided from before the foundations of the earth to go in after us? Why not just start over--get a brand new earth, leave us idiot humans to ourselves, and keep everything nice and neat. Why get messy? 

     I can't even explain to you how much God spoke this to me through my puppy. Just as I declare a new, healthy, amazing future for the dog, God declares the same for you. You have no idea the kind of lottery you one when you accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior. This puppy has no idea how passionate I am about dog training, and how much effort I'm going to put into its health and well-being. He has no idea the kinds of prayers being uttered over him has he sleeps. He doesn't see himself in the future like I do--bringing joy to children, chasing tennis balls, running with me every day, going with me everywhere. He has no idea how committed I am at this point. I made a decision. No one made me. No one held me at gunpoint and said "SAVE THE MANGE DOG." No one. It was my choice. And it will be my sacrifice. 

      In the same way, God has picked you up out of your old life. God has an unimaginably great future in store for you. Maybe right now you've only just been picked up off the street. You're still itchy and scabby, and you feel like you've made a terrible mistake. That's okay. Trust in the Master: you have no idea the blessings in store for you! Pretty soon, you may even see a picture of your old self. But I promise you you won't recognize the face in the photo. Because you are a new being in Christ. He has taken you up, in a scandalously idiotic act of grace, at great personal cost, risking much more than mange to bring you to his home. He didn't have to. He could have left you to die in the street and saved himself the money. But he has chosen you. He has chosen you to accompany him in this life. He has offered you an unimaginable adventure full of love, grace, joy, and the painful washings that must come beforehand. Will you take him up on the offer? Will you trust that he knows what he's doing? Or will you allow the fears, that used to gnaw at your mind just as the mange gnawed at your skin, to win? Will you choose to see all that Christ has for you? Or will you determine to see yourself as mange-infested refuse? 

Like I said, I'm pretty stoked about this puppy. He is healing up pretty stinking fast. God has great things in store for him--and his story! I just knew that I had to take him with me. He doesn't have a name yet. How do I begin to put a title on this little one? Not sure. But one thing I do know... 

My God is gracious!

"another fine bit of writing brought to you by yours truly"

How you live your days is how you life your life.

Okay…

I’ve given myself more than just a little bit of time to think about El Salvador. If you read my last blog, you know I promised to update you. I’ve been a little busy—getting ready to move to a different country tends to take time away! There is, though, one story from my trip that I can’t stop thinking about. It has haunted me since I've gotten back... in a really good way.

            As I think I’ve already mentioned, I was working with the eye team—meaning, essentially, that I was left in charge of a machine more expensive (perhaps) than my car although I have no more medical training than your average prairie dog when it comes to optometry.  I believe the official title of the machine was “Auto-refract”… “ometer”? ...Or something along those lines, but it shall henceforth be referred to as “Glorified Nintendo”, or “GN” for short. Essentially my job was to measure people’s eyes before they went to the legitimate doctors, my job being to provide a more or less accurate estimate of any eye prescription, as well as indicators of astigmatism. Not to be confused with stigmata. My instructions were as follows:

            “Just line the [medical jargon for black dot in center of eye] up in the middle of the screen and make sure the focus is correct so we don’t get [medical jargon for when Alyssa does a crappy job and the numbers are wrong]. Point and shoot. And go faster [medical jargon for when Alyssa nervously makes elderly patients hold their eyes open for superhuman periods of time]!”

            Right.

            Can you imagine? What if you came to a doctor in the states and, Lord help you, I was the person in charge of giving your eye exam? I wouldn’t even be offended if you ran away screaming—I’m completely unqualified for the job! But the crazy thing is that these people were so grateful to even have a clinic to go to that they wouldn’t have cared if Mr. Rogers were administering the eye exam. They wanted someone to talk to, someone with whom to freely discuss eye problems, anyone willing to give them the time of day and try to help them. We’re talking about people who, some of them as old as 50, had never even been to an eye doctor. Upon seeing me in my fancy red scrubs, then, they simply assumed I was a doctor and treated me like it. And I was only the pre-doctor lackey! The locals addressed us with a certain amount of awe. It was strange, really. There was one young woman, who, tragically, epitomizes this case.

            At about 15 years old, she seemed somehow old for her age. This teenager, dark hair clinging to her forehead with sweat brought about by the hours waiting in the Salvadoran sun to get into the clinic, was weighed down by something. There was a certain nervous twitch in her manner of holding the piece of paper—her clinic invitation—that brought her across our path. Like many other women who have an eye problem that is physically apparent, she was wearing sunglasses. Her face held eerily still as she sat in our “waiting room” comprised of plastic lawn chairs organized into a loose U-shape. But, when I called her to come sit at my desk to set her up on the GN, her whole countenance changed.

            Some sort of long-lost hope was rising from the ashes of her prematurely tired face. She gingerly handed me her paper and followed my every instruction as if I held the power of life or death. She did so smiling. I had no idea what on earth she was so upset about before. Whatever! It gave me this awesome feeling of “look how great I am!” to think about the wonderful work I was so courageously doing. What a splendid human being I am. Helping this sweet girl get her eyes checked and what not. Gah! Focus the machine… don’t get too distracted here… boy I cheered this girl up. Honestly, projects like this make you feel like Rocky at the moment when he finally gets his sweaty body to the top of the stairs—a champion. Here I was, taking part in this nice little clinic that was just, darn it, saving people’s eyesight.

            Sadly, though, this girl is the one that totally ruined that perspective.

            After about 20 minutes, she was on her way out of the doctors’ room. And she was in tears. Not the normal eye clinic tears because some strange, white, abnormally tall yhetti/man was poking your eyes—she looked like a small child whose favorite doll just got ran over by a train. Destroyed. Broken. Hurting. Crushed. I knew something had to be really wrong, but I had to keep working. After all, we had hundreds of patients to go through. I mean, I had eyesight to save!

            But somehow, as I caught glimpses of her outside on the patio waiting to pick out glasses, I knew something inside of me wouldn’t relent until I had figured out what was going on. It’s that feeling you get that hits somewhere between terror and rage. It’s when the hairs on the back of your neck prickle and your stomach begins to churn. You have that sinking feeling that whatever you’re about to do is going to be really hard somehow but you also know that you’ll throw up if you don’t. So I called over my friend, a local that I had trained to run the machine, and went outside to figure out why she was so upset—how could anyone, after receiving our medical attention, be sad?!

            Then I found out. This fifteen-year-old girl has a degenerative eye condition that will eventually leave her entirely blind or as close thereto as the evil working in her system can muster. She may never be able to see her own children. If things get really bad, she may not watch her own wedding. Certainly, she won’t drive a car. She had come to our clinic that morning, against all odds, because something inside of her believed that we could make everything better. I mean, we’re Americans, for crying out loud! Our doctors can turn young black men into scary white women. Of course we can fix her eyes! But you know what? We can’t. There is no medical procedure for the kind of genetic disease she has. There is nothing that any doctor on any continent of this world can do for her.

            So, just to sum it all up for you, we crushed her dreams and reminded her just once more that her future is literally dark, as the twilight hours of what little eyesight she has dwindle away into the long, bleak night of blindness.

           

Well, so they say.

But there was another fact that came to me in that moment. A fact greater than any genetic research this world has ever known. A fact more powerful than any Western medicine that optometry has produced.

My God created the eye. He created her eyes. And, most importantly, He created her.

            So I knew that I had to pray with this girl. There was absolutely no arguing about it. I walked over, found her dawdling by the door (she couldn’t bring herself to just walk away) and asked if I could pray over her. I laid my hands on her eyes and started--first in English, and then in Spanish, I honestly don’t remember what I was even saying. Then something inside of me wanted to know more about this young woman. At this point we were both crying (except me because I don’t cry. Ever. Not even during sad movies), but I began to ask her questions about her dreams, and what she wants to do with her life. She told me she wanted to be a teacher. Her great aspiration was to help other people learn. (How many of us would be so generous out of such dark despair?!) At this point, a rather obvious thought blurted out of my mouth. “You know, you don’t have to see to teach people.” She looked at me as though I had landed from an alien planet where the inhabitants survive by eating each other’s mucus. But, I noticed, a small smile crept into the deep corners of her mouth.

            “I know.”

            “No, really, I’m serious. Do you realize that whether or not you ever see again, God can still work in you and transform your life? Do you realize that your blindness does not limit God’s power? That your blindness does not thwart his love and purpose for your life? That it cannot stop God?”

            She smiled.

            Then she started to laugh. She started to tell me about her family, her school, her homework, and like the flood of tears that preceded it, I felt hope flooding for the first time. Beginning slowly, tiny raindrops of hope were trickling out of her mouth.

            And it hit me: whether or not we treat these people medically is not actually the issue here. Do I really understand that they are people? That they are no different from me at all? That every time I meet another person, I am meeting a soul that will last for eternity. That every collision with any soul has the potential to change the world?

            I still don’t think I get it.

            We are SO quick to forget the immense spiritual realm that surrounds us. That every action you take leaves ripples across time and space for all eternity, and every action you do not take makes no less of an impact. We cannot slide by with excuses like “too much work” or “not enough time” or “not my calling” or “let someone with more experience handle it” any longer. What if I had not talked to this girl? What if I had talked to her sooner?

            I am not advocating safari trips into the Wild What If; I am questioning whether we realize that we live in the Wild Right Now. Do not let life’s moments pass you by. Do not let Divine Opportunities to impact a life slip through your fingers. Do not get so caught up in “good works” like I did that you forget that God is working.

My prayer is that it won’t take me half an hour to see a soul in need of God’s comfort ever again. My prayer is that the church would shake of the dust and realize how great our power is because of Him who is within us.

You are no mere mortal. 

"another fine bit of writing brought to you by yours truly"

Life comes at you fast...

 Oh.
My.
Goodness!

I have so ridiculously much to share right now that I feel like my keyboard is scarcely up to the task... I'm going to keep this blog brief (fingers crossed!) and blurt out a few things, with further explanations soon to come. Capiche? At least, I believe "capiche" is Italian for "understand," but I don't speak Italian.

Here we go!

 Update #1: I just got back from an amazing trip to EL SALVADOR! I put pictures up on my FB account, so click on the link at the top of this page if you want to go look at them. It was seriously one of the most amazing trips I've been on yet. I had the great privilege of going with a team of highly trained medical professionals and doctors (which is to say, people a lot smarter than I am!) to serve the people of San Rafael Cedros with a free health clinic comprised of four main areas: pediatrics, women's health, general medicine, and eyes. I got to work on the eye team, and all I can say is that watching someone put on glasses, burst into tears, and faintly whisper, "I can read my Bible again" is nothing short of life-changing. It was such a blessing for me! It was about a two-week long trip, and for those of you who know I take a long time to process things... so give me a little while to think it over and I'll really buckle down and give you details.

Update #2: This is the one that will make you crinkle up your nose in despair at my raging inability to maintain a coherent blog, but I am moving back to Mexico! Feel like you're missing out on some information between my last blog and this information? You should! I'm really bad at chronicling my life. Dang it, I'm too busy living! The long at short of it is that one day at work, literally while cleaning out the deep fryers, a divine revelation slapped me across the face like a lead pipe. (Okay, pipes don't exactly "slap," but I'm enjoying the image here...) God really started speaking to my heart that He is the one who puts dreams in the hearts of His children, and when God puts a dream in your heart, you really will want it more than anything. Translation: "Alyssa, you moron, I already know that you want to go to Ensenada! Stop believing that the fact that you want it makes it wrong--I put that desire there!" Don't ask me to explain why this thought had yet to pierce the void of my nearly-empty head... But, in that moment, I began to really pray for Ensenada...

You know, one of those mighty prayers of faith...
It went something like, "OK, if you want me to go to Ensenada, YOU do everything... and give me a way to go... and um... I want a pony too."
Mighty woman of faith I am!
I even attempted a fast... which pathetically ended in a Pad Thai binge.
Let's be honest... my "spiritual maturity" here is not exactly stellar.

The crazy part? SWEET LORD JESUS, HE REALLY DID DO EVERYTHING! I have financial support (you know who you are and you are the craziest, most generous and amazing dream-fulfilling person I've ever even heard of!!!), I already have different friends talking to me about helping in ministries in the area, and to top it of I have a dear friend down there who has taken it upon himself to figure out my living situation, right down to pilfering his relative's furniture!

It's almost getting ridiculous, to be honest. But I believe that if you give God an "if you ____, then I'll ____" then you had better be willing to follow through. Honestly, those statements aren't the best way to begin--but believe me, us faith weaklings have to start somewhere! And if ever there was a time when God had given me every imaginable reason to trust in his calling on my life, it's right now. I am reminded of that verse in James which says "If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them" (4:17). Well, I know the good I ought to do. Every single "sign" I asked God for has been answered. Every idiotic thing I asked for has all but fallen from the sky. Now all I can do is take a deep breath and follow Him!

Whew! Okay I have to be true to my word and keep the blog short. I do have other updates, but we'll save those for another day. I just want to keep you all in the loop.

A few final requests: Pray for me, por favor! Pray specifically for my car and safety on the road, as I am going to be driving to Ensenada. Pray that God would teach me to fully submit myself to him that I could better serve him wherever He leads me.

OK! That's really all for now. Much love! Thank you all so much :)

"another fine bit of writing brought to you by yours truly"

Faith That Overcomes

"To love at all is to be vulnerable.

 Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken.

If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries;

avoid all entanglements;

 lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.

But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change.

It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable."

—   C.S. Lewis

I really can’t explain it, but this quote has been fluttering around my mind nonstop for the last week or so. In my last blog, I wrote partially about the difficulty I’m having in terms of dealing with wanting to be in Mexico (which I now almost always write as México) and the reality that I am not quite sure what God is up to. Now, there are always a few rock-bottom truths that must of necessity form the foundation of our worldview as believers:

1.     God is good.

2.     God is faithful.

3.     Ultimately, God is in control.

So, these truths being the reality that they are, I know enough about what

God doing. I’ll never need to know more. But we cannot all at once deny the human yearning for certainty, that insatiably child-like cry that asks, “Why?” or “How?” or really any interrogative word. What we long for is a foothold in this crazy world. Now, you may ask what on earth this has to do with the aforementioned quote. That brings us to the other item I’ve been pondering.

            Remember that guy from the “Father Abraham had many sons” song? Yeah, Abraham. You know the one. I’ve been mulling over that part of the Bible where God asks Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac. If you work it out, by the time Isaac was born, Abraham had been waiting about 25 years.  That’s longer than I’ve been alive… so for me it might as well be an eternal number. But I think even if you’re older than that, you can accept that wanting something for 25 years is a bit… odd. I mean, it would be no stranger for someone to declare that one day they are going to find a golden ticket to the Chocolate Factory wrapped around the Big Mac they buy every lunch hour at McDonalds. I mean, we would think he was completely insane today! Obsessed, to say the least. Delusional. Idiotic.

            Could you hold on to a dream for 25 years? I honestly thought this through. The longest I’ve held on to any dream would be about 8 years… and said dream and I have our ups and downs. How many of us “wake up” from that “silly phase” and move on into the “real world”? How many dreams now lie safely in real coffins in real cemeteries because people did not fight for them? Now, Abraham, to be fair, had some pretty unique Divine messages to guide him and encourage him along the way. But if you count it up, Abraham had no more than 10 recorded “mountaintop moments” with God. That’s really not as much as we make it out for a quarter of a century… So don’t give me that “But Abraham and God were, like, BFFs. If God talked to me like he did to Abraham, of course I could do it!” God gives each person exactly what he or she needs the moment it is needed. God has given you whatever you need. The question, then, is what are you doing with it?

            There’s one important thing I see Abraham doing with his dream, and it seems to be a learning process. He orients his entire life around the revealed purpose of God. I’m serious, even in his catastrophic mistakes—taking his wife’s servant, for example—you still see how his entire focus is the dream God gave him. Would any of us be passionate enough about something God spoke into our heart that we would hold onto it for years and years, even sinning, to bring about that very thing? Obviously I am not condoning sin here. What I am highlighting is that even Abraham’s sin was oriented toward making God’s promise happen. Now, trying to do anything to “help” God is doomed from the beginning. But Abraham believed God. The promise of God, Abraham’s dream of having a son through his wife Sarah, meant absolutely everything to him.

            That is what makes the almost-sacrifice of Isaac so interesting. Abraham has thought of nothing but this promise, this dream, for 25 years. His son is now alive before his very eyes! In fact, Isaac cannot possibly be any younger than 10… bringing us to 35 years and counting with this dream. And then came the fateful command: sacrifice the boy.

            Wait. What?

            Let’s take a break here for some imagery. Anyone out there have a dog? Have you ever given little Fido a nice new bone? Well, let me tell you from experience: give that dog 10 seconds of possessing his new bone and he’ll rip your arm of if you come within five feet of it. Never you mind the fact that you bought it for said pooch: that is his freaking bone and you’ll pull back a bloody nub if you reach for it.

            Well, Abraham had that dream for 35 years. At least. Don’t you think he would’ve been a little possessive of it? I was trying to come up with some way for myself to understand. What if God told me to drop my guitar from the top of the Empire State Building? I honestly cannot even imagine it. And that’s talking about an inanimate object! We’re talking here about Abraham’s own flesh and blood, his dream 35+ years in the making. And what do we get out of him in response? Not a word! The man who interceded like a babbling idiot for a good five verses to get Lot out of the destruction of his city. The man who laughed when God told him Sarai would bear a son in her old age. This time, he simply saddles up his men and goes.

            This is an important growth process I see at work in the life of Abraham. Now we can tie in the C.S. Lewis quote. Early on in the story, we see Abraham really holding on to his dream. We see him surrounded by luxuries, continuously trying to protect the Self (lying about his wife’s identity to Pharaoh, for one). But again and again, God interrupts and forces him to lay his dream bare on one altar or the other. I honestly see Abraham’s laughter not so much as doubt, but that awkward sort of cover we do when someone has discovered something we didn’t want them to. Perhaps he was really beginning to doubt the dream. Perhaps he even felt stupid about it. By laughing it off, he could cover it up—distance himself from the dream altogether. But God continuously brings it front and center: “You will have a son.” I can’t imagine how such a statement must have plucked at his heartstrings. Obviously, there was nothing the man wanted more! What an idiot he must have felt by year 24. He had his moments of “stepping out” in faith—all of which seemed to head in the wrong direction. It still baffles my mind that he found anything funny at all 24 years into the “joke”.

            Yet something radical was at work in Abraham. A kind of rock-bottom, foundational faith was forming in him. His ever-yearning heart was re-prioritizing. A sort of heart-on-the-table mentality was awakening inside of him. There was no covering of doubt with laughter, no trying to weasel other people into the family line. When Isaac asks Abraham where the sacrifice is coming, Abraham cryptically replies, “God Himself will provide it.” Don’t you think he maybe had a nagging “Good grief I hope so” in that statement? Whatever the case, this is a radically different man then the lying coward who used to offer his wife to other men just so they wouldn’t hurt him! We see Abraham in this moment as a man no longer afraid to just step out and declare the [seemingly nonsensical] thing that God has spoken to him. We have no idea what God spoke to Isaac about this matter, but I’m sure if Abraham had doubted or been fearful, Isaac would’ve bolted at the first stoplight. I think there was a sort of decided, grim calm about Abraham. He trusted God, but had no idea what was going to happen. And bear in mind that what he is laying on the line is this dream he’s now spent more than a third of a century nursing.

            Remember our dog image? Abraham is not behaving in that way at all. Had he been possessive of “his” dream, the son that he loved, it would have been better in a way for the whole dream to die. (not that I advocate here for human sacrifice… I’m talking symbolically.) Only when you can walk away from something are you really free to love it at all. Love demands freedom.

Referring back to our opening quote, to love at all is to put yourself on the line. You have to be willing to be vulnerable—to declare God’s promise to you—to dream. To love. To walk. To live. You cannot love God and try to “cover your back” all at once. You either possess your life or you don’t. You either believe God or you don’t. He either put it in your heart or He didn’t. Either you walk on this earth serving God or you don’t. There is no middle ground here. Don’t make the mistakes Abraham made. Believe God, right now. Believe that what he has declared to you is truth. Hold on to it with everything you’ve got, for years if need be. But always remember that the Dreamgiver is bigger than the dream. Hold on to things, but remember to keep a loose fist. There are two questions you need to ask yourself here: 1, Am I willing to remain faithful to what God has spoken to me regardless of how long it takes? 2, Am I willing to give it up completely if he asks me?

Friends, don’t wrap up your heart’s desires inside the “coffin of your selfishness”.  Rather, boldly stand firm in what God is speaking to you. This message is for me as much as anyone else. I’m starting to feel clinically insane about wanting to serve God in Latin America. But I have to be faithful! God has given me the word. Not only of leading worship but of being a missionary. So I HAVE to wait for Him. Obedience has but one opposite; it has no lower forms.

What has God spoken into your heart? What dreams are you so ashamed of that you’ve almost given up on them? If God has given you the dream of being a doctor, don’t lose it in medical school! If He has spoken a ministry in your heart, don’t get bogged down by church politics. Hold on to your dream. And be willing to throw it in the air when and where God tells you.

Enjoy the adventure!

"another fine bit of writing brought to you by yours truly"

Processing... it's a work in progress

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him…” Romans 8:28

Where to I begin to pick up after my last blog? It’s been quite a while indeed. I suppose first things first would be to tell you that I’m not writing from Ensenada, México. I’m writing from Eugene, Oregon—an incalculable distance not only in terms of geography but in very the fibers of my soul. It feels strange here. Granted, I’ve been here for a while now (I got back mid-October), but I suppose the definition of the word “home” has so radically changed for me that I may never fully understand the word again. So many people in México became a sort of home for me. Even writing the words here on my computer, something inside of me writhes at the use of the past tense when speaking of it. Where does one pick up the pieces of an old life?

So many things on the outside should smack of “normality” but really they have become a reminder of where I am. And where I’m not. I’m back at my old job—the one I though I quit for good. I do happen to love my coworkers, but nothing breaks the spirit like the triglyceride-fighting power of dishwashing soap. I’m walking the same streets I used to, but now I feel like a visitor in my own neighborhood. Don’t even get me started on the church situation here in Eugene. I have a church. It’s just in the wrong country.

If this blog seems to be starting off on a sad note for you, you can skip ahead. I’m just trying to process in words for the first time what on earth is going on. A dream has died. There’s no way around it. When I first pulled up into Ensenada, I really saw myself being there for some time. The stars were aligning—I had graduated from college, tidied things up nicely back in Oregon, and in general was feeling ready to take on the world. Somehow things just didn’t go the way I had hoped. I’m “back.”

I’ve burned bridges and been burned this past summer. I had more fun and more heartache than any other time of my life. I’ve done things that I regret and even had a few shining moments of triumph. I made the kind of friends you hope to come across once in a lifetime. I was let down by the kind of friends you spend your lifetime trying to avoid. In short, México was everything all at once.

México is the kind of place that crawls under your skin, and painfully, slowly, and skillfully, weaves its way into every part of you. It becomes a layer you cannot avoid. You wear it—not because you want to or because you’re trying to prove something—but because to deny it would deny the person you have grown to be. There are times when I hear it whisper in my ear, when I taste it, when it unexpectedly takes hold of me. Certain smells now are either avoided or treated with caution, lest the flood of memories they stir up breach the temporary dam I’ve created while I sort this mess out. I cannot deny what a huge part of me México is now. It’s like the your ex-boyfriend who, even though the relationship was rocky, still causes that rush-of-air feeling in the pit of your stomach. It’s a sort of delicious pain really, because it is rooted in love. Just as you once maybe loved him, I love México. The people, the sights, the food, the smells, the mange-infested dogs roaming about. Together they form a mosaic that is my own definition of the country. My experience, certainly, was unique. It was unthinkably short, but it has changed the course of my life forever.

How could I simply return here to Oregon and follow the “American Dream”? Can I honestly say that I still believe it? Furthermore, if the dream were real and came true and I found myself the proud owner of a 2-story house with a white picket fence and 2.2 children, could that, even in it’s most shining moments of joy and glory, make me happy? Absolutely not. Once you’ve built a house no bigger than the average living room and watched a family break into tears upon receiving it, it’s hard to say that you need an aircraft carrier-sized abode to be happy. Once you’ve spent time with the people who work in t-shirt factories so spoiled Americans can buy hundreds of shirts they’ll never actually wear, it’s hard to get the same buzz at the mall. Once you’ve been part of a family that needed no greater occasion than a Sunday afternoon to stir up a flurry of love, dancing, and food, it’s hard to say that a bigger T.V. will bring you more entertainment.

Now don’t get me wrong—I’m not proposing that we all move to the woods or form some sort of commune. I’m only sending a simple idea out into the cosmic void. What if the basis of American society, that idea of he-who-dies-with-the-most-toys-wins, is wrong? What if that idea of go-to-college-so-you-can-get-a-good-job-and-buy-the-most-toys is also wrong? What if spending the vast majority of your waking hours in a cubicle doing God knows what so that God knows who makes a profit is completely absurd? Are my questions here really that far off base? Let me be honest, by the time most of us make it to 60 we’ll be lucky if we can still physically do all those things we tell ourselves we want to. Which means, essentially, that our worldview trains us from a very young age to work from sunup to sundown so we can pay for a future that, by the time we get there, we will be too old to enjoy. Dear God. I don’t know about you, but I’m depressing myself here.

Obviously, some of you will point out the obvious here. And congratulations to you if you’ve said to yourself, “but by Jolly, this woman is talking about loving México. Those people work longer hours than we do! She has no idea what she’s saying!” What I love about México is not that it has somehow become Utopia or that it is free of nasty American-type things. But it opened my eyes to see just how deceived we are as a nation. The fact that Western culture has introduced the rat race to the world does not somehow make it okay. We just managed to make other people’s lives even worse off than ours. People south of the border, speaking in complete generalization, are lucky to get retirement and even luckier to live to see it.  The bottom line is that there is something very wrong in the world.

This brings me to that scripture I posted at the top. You see, the world really is pretty screwed up. When 5% of the world population (the US) consumes nearly a quarter of its resources, you know something is wrong. When every day enough children die of hunger that 9/11 seems low-key, you know something is wrong. When a teenager in Indonesia literally forfeits his youth working essentially as a slave in sweatshops so that a teenager in the United States can have new t-shirt for school, you know something is wrong. BUT—mark my words here—God is working in all things. If you want to tell me that everything is just fine and poor people like being poor, do us all a favor and take me up on that live in the woods idea. The rest of us have a choice to make.

You can buy Nike shoes because they are cool, or you can do your homework and support companies that pay their workers a living wage. You can buy Old Navy clothing because it’s cheap and fashionable, or you can buy fewer articles of clothing for a higher price from companies that refuse to put a price tag on human life. You can go shopping every time you feel unhappy, or you can give to someone in need. You can say that poor people are just born that way, or you can stand in the gap.

I’m not talking about Christian Social Justice here. I’m not trying to take what Bono is doing and slap a crucifix on the front. What I’m talking about is comprehending God’s heart toward the lost, the broken, the orphaned, the widow, and the hungry. Honestly if you hide behind the “it’s just a fad” mentality in terms of serving “the least of these,” I wonder if you really feel with God’s heart at all. God’s Word is chock full of Him stepping in to help the downtrodden—God was the one who forced Egypt to release its slaves; God sent one of his prophets to a near-starving woman to save her and her son; God instituted laws that allowed poor people to hang out in fields and pick up whatever grain fell to the ground; God declared that He does not play favorites among His children (all men are created equal!); He is the one who defined religion as looking after the widow and the fatherless.

Mother Theresa is quoted as saying, “I will not offer the gospel of talk to starving people.” Obviously, this world will never be right while men live in sin. But starving people need real bread as well as the Bread of Life. We as believers need to empathize with the hurts of humanity. Not that we become those who are marked by clinical depression, but those that rise up in holy rage against the world system.

I’m sure you’re feeling riled up. At least, I hope so. But in about 15 minutes you’re going to find yourself in the same place I am: “So what the heck DO I do?” Here’s my tip. Pray like you’ve never prayed before. Refuse to settle for those just-bless-everyone-oh-daddy-please prayers and roll up your sleeves. If this world is to bow its knees before the Almighty, we as believers shouldn’t have to ask for instructions first. We need to be in prayer as though our lives depended upon it. And believe me, they do. But be prepared. I’ll warn you. You will undoubtedly find yourself in confusing and hard situations like the one in which I find myself tonight. You will feel doubt. You will feel fear. You will wonder if you are crazy for thinking what you do. I happen to have México as my constant self-check as to whether or not I’m sinking into the world system. Find out what yours is. And refuse to settle.

Good grief, I have the most terrible habit of writing long blogs.

I ask that you would include me in your prayers. Pray that God would make a way for me to serve him among the broken, the downtrodden, and the hungry. Pray that he would open doors where I see no possible way. Pray that he would give me faith to reach to where he is leading me! And then pray the same for yourself ;)

"another fine bit of writing brought to you by yours truly"

Divine Appointments

Hola, faithful readers!
       Boy do I wish I had more space to write here. I know I've taken my sweet time getting this blog up, but hopefully can explain myself before the lynch mob forms. Haha! At any rate... here goes!

      I have to confess... I've had a hard time these past few weeks. So may of my Americanized ideals of "results" have clashed, as it were, with the reality of my life here. I mean, I'm here as a "missionary," right? And logically, that would imply that as I walk down the street my shadow itself has the power to heal people. Right? Wrong! I cannot really even explain to myself what "missons" means. Where did we get this idea of being a "missionary" from? I know exactly how it goes. Believe me. You watch a moving video clip, someone mentions something about those darn starving children in Africa, or whatever. And there it is. You've received your "calling" from God. I mean, if you really want something, it has to be a holy and righteous calling. We're talking about starving children in Africa, Thailand, Laos, Mexico--wherever!--for goodness' sake! How can helping them not be the right thing to do? But, when you hit the ground, metaphorically speaking, those moving video clips seem really far away.
     I wanted results. I wanted them now. I wanted to be saving people. That, after all, is the missionary calling. Right? Ah! But if you look at those three sentences that began this paragraph, you'll see where the problem is. I'm using the first person singular--ME. And any time you begin to find yourself talking like that, do yourself a favor and (in an isolated area so no one locks you away) go ahead and slap yourself across the face. It's not about ME. The eternally-elevated, all-powerful "I AM" is not named Alyssa. I got turned around somehow in the midst of everything here. I forgot that it's not a question of why am I here--it's a question of who.
     Who brought me here? Who is the one in control of things? Once that gets straightened out... sure, you can ask why. But I'll tell you, you probably won't get an answer. Because the funny thing is, God is the eternal why. I'm talking from experience here. You will drive yourself completely and hilariously insane if you start blubbering to God about "why". Why, God did you bring me here? Why are things the way they are? Why can't... And off you go as if God owed an accounting of Himself to you. Rather, ask God a question that will ultimately answer every other question: "Who are you?" It is the most powerful, the most important question you will ever ask. And the answer will change your life. I promise.
       This question is what has slapped me across the face, as it were, and brought me back to what is real here in Mexico. I'm not exactly used to the whole eternal time scale thing. I grew up in the world of microwaves, online degrees, and instant mac 'n cheese. The thought of waiting for something literally makes me nauseous at times. But time and again over the last weeks, God has been really speaking to me about what it means to follow Him. Because I'm not working towards a goal here. I have no "quota" of lives to save. Jesus does not have me punch out at the end of the day. I'm following a real, living person here in Mexico and I am on His schedule.
     Take a look at Elijah, for example. We're introduced to him in 1 Kings Chapter 17. The entire palace court would have been in session. Imagine everyone dressed in their finery, discussing lofty ideals of politics and current events. When suddenly, the door is thrust open. The room falls silent. Standing in the middle of the most expensive doorway in all of Israel is... some hick from Tishbite. He probably even had an accent to boot! Every mouth in the room would have been silent--just imagine the shock at the sight of him. Yet, for all of the awkwardness (I probably would've mumbled something about "oh... just looking for the bathroom" and ran!), this guy opens his mouth. And oh my, does he speak with a power much greater than he should: "'As the Lord, the God of Israel, lives, whom I serve, there will be neither dew nor rain in the next few years except at my word.'" Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but according to the Israeli system of government, the king was the official "servant" of God. Even the high priest, politically at least, answered to the king. Now look at the way Elijah phrases it: "the God of Israel," "whom I serve." It's interesting to me that he put the "Israel" in. I mean, for crying out loud--he was talking to the king of Israel! In saying it like that he draws a circle around himself and God, and by his manner of speaking declares that the king himself has fallen outside of this realm. The hick standing in the midst of this outraged group of royal somebodies has just put himself in the place of highest authority under God. Wow!
     What next?! Let's have some explosions! Bring in a helicopter! Send in Jack Bauer! I mean, we've got the real deal here--a prophet, with authority, operating in full cooperation with the spirit of God, ready to take on the world, full of ironclad faith. What next? Oh boy, what next!
     That's where the story used to lose me. God said to Elijah, "'Leave here, turn eastward and hide in the Kerith Ravine, East of the Jordan. You will drink from the brook, and I have ordered the ravens to feed you there." Are you kidding me? Go hide? By a brook?! The mighty man of God who just usurped the authority of the king of Israel? His next divine appointment is to go on vacation? Ewwww... What a waste! Think about it! The people would've seen that God was the true God--it really did stop raining! Imagine how many souls Elijah could've been out saving from day to night! They would've had to build a baptismal the size of a baseball stadium to fit them in. Doesn't God see? Does He not understand what He's missing out on?!
      Have you never thought that way? I bet you that if you were honest with yourself, you would have to agree that at first glance God's assignment here seems... pretty lame.
       Thanks be unto God, however, that His ways are not our ways. Over the next three years Elijah did essentially nothing. Well, OK, he went to a widow's house and with power from God raised her son from the dead and there was the whole jar of oil bit, but that's peanuts compared to what "could've" been. Yet, here's where we have to stop and ask ourselves something: was Elijah any less of a prophet of God when he was hiding beside the brook? I mean, really, we like to applaud and cheer when he busts through the palace doors shouting out "Thus Says the Lord!" But was he any less obedient at the brook? The answer is that the only thing that made Elijah the icon of faith that we now take him for is that he heard the word of the Lord and obeyed. He was no less important in God's sight when he was at the Kerith Ravine then when he stood before all the prophets of Baal in the next few chapters. Can we Americans really handle this? Elijah was one of only two Old Testament icons to stand with Jesus at the Mount of Transfiguration. Now you can say that he was in Heaven or whatever and logically would've already been with the Lord, but not even David got to see Jesus face to face. Honestly! This little country boy who probably smelled a little off, spent a chunk of three years hiding beside a brook, and then ultimately fled at the height of his fame and essentially asked for permission to die in a cave in the middle of nowhere? Him? Surely God meant to bring some mighty warrior forward to the mount but pushed the wrong link and hit "send." Right?
      Wrong. God looks for an obedient heart. Elijah's heart was obedient to the word of the Lord. And even when he does royally screw up later on, he shuts himself away in a cave and talks to God about it. Wow. This is what God values. Elijah was faithful in the "little things"--something as humiliating as waiting for some dumb bird to bring him bread--and God then entrusted him with the "big things," like bringing an entire nation to its knees to confess that God alone is the Maker of the Universe and will have no competition.
     So if you find yourself today struggling with the "why" of life, feeling like you're not doing anything important, feeling like you're completely useless, wondering how on earth it can be that God is using you... congratulations. You're on the right track. Now you're ready to start asking real questions. Who is your God? Because if you're praying for results or a big ministry, the odds are that those things are going to end up competing for the Lord's place in your heart. Follow Him! Maybe he has sent you to your own brook for a while to wait on the Lord. Go there in obedience! Humble yourself so that he can exalt you. And trust me, I'm right here with you. I feel like the most worthless, impotent "missionary" in the history of mankind. But thanks be to God that it has nothing to do with me! If I were some awesome speaker, or really had magic powers to heal people with my shadow--where would there be room for God to work? Rather, when we can honestly see that we ultimately have nothing to offer, we are free to offer ourselves.
      Stop trying to offer your talents, your goals, your whatever. God doesn't need it. He has chosen to need you. And until you will offer yourself, He cannot bless you as He wants to. God has chosen to entrust his Name, his reputation, his workings in this world--TO US! I mean it. If God wanted to evangelize the whole world He could. If God came in power right now I promise you every tongue on earth would confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. But he has chosen us! He has chosen us to work in such a unique way that each one of us has a different calling, a different purpose. And we all pass through different seasons. But never forget that there really is an Architect behind it all. And if you find yourself like me passing through a "quiet time," that is to say a time when you feel like you're not doing enough, remember that God is in control. If you are faithful in the small things, He who called you really is faithful to fulfill every promise He ever made. Be still before the Lord, and wait patiently for him! God is alive. He is moving. He is working in you whether you like it or not. And it is His working in you, ultimately, that will fulfill the Great Commission to go forth and make disciples of all nations. Our obedience to God is what makes the difference. And obedience is simply seeing the Father at work and saying, "Yes, Lord, I'm with you." I encourage you to open your hearts to hear the word of the Lord for YOU. He's got something to say to you right now. Will you listen? Are you ready for your own Divine Appointment?





"another fine bit of writing brought to you by yours truly"

Great is Thy Faithfulness... A quick comment on some of what God's up to here

Hello, Dear Readers!

This really doesn't relate so well to my previous post about the breakfast program, so in the name of immaculately-organized blogs I decided to waste more cyberspace and create a new post...  here goes.

Okay...
     This still doesn't feel real, but I'm going to write the blog anyway. A few Sundays ago, a lady at my church here told me she needed to talk to me after the service. I knew her from YUGO--she volunteered with a group of ladies on Sunday afternoons to cook a special meal for the campers' first day. I had no idea what she needed to talk about, but as the ladies continuously joked about finding me my husband, I was only hoping she wasn't going to try to introduce me to anyone! Well, she began by saying, "Alyssa, the Lord has given me a word for you and I'm sorry it took so long for me to tell you the message." Oh. My. Word. Yeah, you could say she had my attention. This woman then began to go point-by-point, giving me answers to some pretty serious prayers of late. She told me, "The Lord has given you the anointing of worship leader. Seek God in praise and worship, and he will open the doors." That was only part of what she said! It was crazy. We talked for a little while longer, but we both went our ways after the service. God, however, had more in store for me that day.
      I was out of the house all afternoon that day, but for "some reason" when I got home that night after the youth service at church, I decided to check my computer. I had a message waiting for me from a friend saying that this person wanted to give support financially for me here during my time in Mexico. Great indeed is the faithfulness of our Father! It blows my mind. Remember the scripture that says, "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you" ? Well, It's true!
      But wait! There's more!
      I've been invited as a "special musical guest" at a brunch for the church leadership/staff on Saturday, September 11th. It's apparently pretty important, and it's on the beach! I'm going to lead worship for about 20-30 minutes and then I'll be playing background music as they carry on and scarf down victuals, as it were. Please keep this date in prayer! I get realllllllly nervous when I sing in Spanish--and I'll be leading worship for a worship team. But you know what? We are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who believe and are saved. And if my God can put His words in the mouth of a lady at my church, and provide for me financially through a friend in another country, then maybe--just maybe--he can help me out with my nerves too.
      Let us never forget to trust in the One who is worthy of all out devotion! Believe me. I am speaking from experience when I tell you that if you are seeking God, he will take care of the rest. We do not need to waste mental energy agonizing over the details. Instead, save that mental energy to think about Him and trust in His faithfulness.


"another fine bit of writing brought to you by yours truly"

Photo Blog {attempt number one...}

In the midst of our ever-savvy and technologically prideful generation, I took it upon myself to try to put pictures on my blog page. And let me tell you, that was a NO-GO. So I've got a link on this blog that will take you to a photo album on my Facebook page. There's just no way to really convey what a "breakfast feeding program" is until you see it. The basic info you need to know: Haidet (my roommate) and I go every Wednesday and Friday to support a local feeding program that serves anywhere from forty to one hundred children on their way to school. Many of these children would have to go to school on an empty stomach if it weren't for the Herculean effort put forth by the women working in the program. The snapshots you see only capture part of the essence of what they do. Before the kids get food, they have a time of worship and a devotional (soon to be led by Haidet and I on our days there). Obviously, there are children that take advantage of the program and use it just for the food. Of course they would--Haidet and I made some bomb pancakes. But the fact is, if just one of these kids decides to give their heart to Christ then the entire program is worth its hardships. Without question.

So, enjoy the pictures already!
CLICK FOR PICTURES!


"another fine bit of writing brought to you by yours truly"

Endings and beginnings...

 Wow. I can't believe it's been over a month since I last published a blog...
         And it was a pathetic one at that! To be fair, I've been realllllllly busy this summer. The thing is, in the last month I was just starting to realize how precious my friendships were that were forming among the other YUGO interns. That said, once I finally had some free time at night or maybe on the weekends, I chose to spend time with them. Hah... so take that, angry readers! It really is hard to believe that so many dear friends have already come and gone. Obviously, they'll always be with me in one sense--but let's face it, the phrase "out of sight, out of mind" exists for a reason. Even my adopted brother Thomas leaves on Tuesday! There are so many things I wish I could show you all. I wish I could drag you by the hand to the places where I've helped build houses, introduce you to "my kids" over in Colonia Oaxaca where I've helped on so many VBS teams. But I can't. It's hard for me to comprehend the real distance between my life in Oregon and my life in Mexico. In my heart, it's like you're all here with me, experiencing the same things I am. Of course you know who Jesus and David (sweetest little boys EVER) are! Of course you heard about the time Maddie and I sang "Lean on Me" to Alejandro at the top of our lungs! Of course you know who Melody is! Of course you have the inside scoop on "Codename: Chimichonga"! How you not?! But there it is. The infinite chasm of distance between me and you rears its ugly head. I get so frustrated calling home sometimes because I'll just want to tell a quick story that was funny to me from that day, but by the time the person picks up the phone I realize that it'll take an hour's worth of explaining to make them see the humor in the situation. Perhaps I've had to much time to myself this week. But it's really dawning on me that I'm here. And you're there. And so we find ourselves. In a sense separated by space (although not by time because, thank God, we're all on West Coast time...), this is your new relationship to me. I don't like it either. But that's what we've got. So I'm gonna try really hard to keep this blog updated. But please know that if I'm too tired, or too busy. It doesn't mean I'm not doing anything or I don't want to talk to you all. I can't tell you how much of a difference it makes when I get a second to check my Facebook and I see that someone has left me an encouraging message or something. I seriously don't always have time to write back, but those words can be like a lifeline here.
          There's this big word out there called "Purpose." Perhaps you've heard of it. It's like, that thing that's supposed to smack you upside of the head and declare to you a kind of schedule that will forever dictate your life--on its terms--until you have achieved some preset goal to some satisfactory point held by some person way off, in the sky, who does important things from time to time. Let's all take a moment on this word. Can we please set it on fire or something? It finally dawned on me last night that American culture is waaaaay too obsessed with this seven-letter word. I am too obsessed with this word. Growing up in a world where 5-year plans are held alongside giving alms to the poor and mortgage plans are considered a right of passage, I have really struggled with my "plan" here. Let's face it. I don't have one. Holding on to Scripture verses doesn't always feel as important or as real as a, say, job offer with "security". But God does not call us based on feeling or emotion. He calls us based on Himself and His faithfulness. God is the only Purpose the universe ever had, or ever will for that matter. All the time we spend trying to find our "purpose" could be adequately termed the time we spend trying to evade God. Because God is his Will. He doesn't have some kind of grand plan hidden out past Mars that we need to find. In and of Himself, He is everything He has ever or will ever purposed, planned, or promised. Period. To live in pursuit of God is to already be living one's purpose!
       Which brings me back to those e-mails some of you have faithfully sent me. I confess. I got dragged back into the pursuit of "Purpose"--that all-American god of pulling oneself up by the bootstrap to live. My Bachelor's Degree arrived at my house in the mail and my parents sent me a picture of it. Then, it happened. I began to question whether or not I was really "using" what God has "given me" in the best way. I began to feel this distance that I just described to you and suddenly home felt as far away as Antarctica. I woke up a few times in the middle of the night thinking I was back at home. But I wasn't. Luckily, God never leaves his kids alone. Thank goodness that God put honest people in the Bible.
      The Lord was really speaking to me last night about Paul. Let's transpose him to a modern-day Christian scholar. Do you realize that if Saul had lived during today's world, he would probably be Dean of some major Christian university on the East Coast, making bank and generally being awesome? He might even be invited to give some very important "inspirational" talks at the White House from time to time. Seriously! He was the rock star of his world. He had every sense of "purpose" that the Jewish culture could come up with. But you know what? He gave it all up. And he would probably be the equivalent of a Doctor of Theology in today's world. Can you imagine turning in a lifetime of study to make tents in some God-forsaken fishing town where the most intelligent conversation you can have would be about the proper way to clean the underside of one's boat? I'm being serious right now. Think about university professors. They're not exactly the kind that can shut their brains off. Someone accustomed to intense theological debate, passionate speeches, and having the final say in all matters of importance is now going to take orders from a simpleton in a small town who owns a tent making workshop? Good grief, man! And that's only the beginning! Do you realize that Paul never read the New Testament? I mean, obviously we know that he wrote most of it. But he didn't know that. He never got to see the real way in which God was using him. Yet he himself counted everything as joy. I mean, everything. I can't imagine the humility of an intellectual giant like Paul submitting himself in every way possible to a God he'd really only just met. So where does that leave me?
        I'm no Paul. I don't posses one ounce of his abilities, so the comparison is absurd in the first place. But my prayer is that God would transform my heart so that I to could say that I "count it all as rubbish" for the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. I don't know why God called me to go to the UO right now. I don't know all things. And I never will. But the fact of the matter is that God does. He knows me better than I know myself. And I don't worship a God who dangles dreams, passions, and hopes in front of you only to snatch them away and laugh in your face. Paul's intellect is what made him arguably the most effective missionary in the history of the world. But to outside eyes, he would seem to be a "dropout" or something. I believe that God has put passions and yearnings in my heart. But I also believe that to trust God is to trust in His timing. So maybe it's not my time right now to do "everything" I can--whatever that means! But God is already starting to use me in ways that I hadn't planned on. I believe that God is realllllllllly confirming in my heart the call to lead worship. I had the great privilege of helping at YUGO by leading worship every once in a while. And let's just say that God has made it very clear that he's not finished with me as a worship leader. I was ready to let that dream go. But thanks be to God for reminding us all the time of his love and purpose!
        So, having just written my doctoral thesis on why I have no idea what I'm doing with my life... let me tell you what God IS doing with me right now. In a totally supernatural way that still blows my mind, he brought me to a missionary family right here in Chapultepec (same neighborhood as YUGO) and I'm living with them for the time being as an intern. But this time, I'll be getting really hands-on in ministry. These people--Randy and Sandy Huebert and their kids--have all kinds of different ministries here. They work in the migrant camps with things like feeding programs, they're connected with a ministry that works with victims of human trafficking, and they have a huge vision for working in and/or directing children's homes and orphanages. That's another story, but it's safe to say that it's a match made in Heaven--no pun intended! Sandy worked as a teacher in Canada before coming here, so her and I have all kinds of secret awesome plans for English lessons or cool things like that. Randy leads construction projects here and there when groups come to stay with them (like, last week they built a church!!!). I'm still just getting to know them, and they probably think I'm an awkward freak... but oh well. Their daughter Laurisa reminds me a lot of myself. I love her sarcasm! The way their house--thing--is set up, the first story is where Randy's parents live when they're here (like half the year-ish?), the second story is their house, and then there's a semi-attached building with an apartment on the 2nd story--my place! It's suuuuuuuch a nice place. I put pictures of it up on my Facebook if you haven't seen them yet. I'll be helping the Hueberts in a million different ways--perfect, in my opinion, because it'll never be boring--and they have been asking my about my ideas for ministry here. *Shouts of glee*
       God's been putting a lot of ideas on my heart that will need a lot more prayer, but let's just say that there really are doors opening for me here even if I can't see or feel it. I am actually going into one of the migrant camps to help Sandy give out school supplies to children to they can go to class on the first day of school. (I promise to try my hardest not to cry). I can't even begin to imagine how God chose me to be here. It's an unspeakable privilege, even if it is hard at times or I feel to small to do it. I'll definitely be updating my blog more often now that I know I'm in for the long haul in Mexico. Who knows? Maybe God has a Mexicano in mind for me here... tee hee! Hahah don't listen to that last sentence. I have no idea how the whole financial situation is going to work out down here, but God hasn't yet failed me.
          I feel like I'm on a roller coaster right now. It's that moment where you've been slowly heading upward, feeling almost bored. Then you get to the highest point, and there's a split second where you know that a deep, intense plunge is coming and you're about ready to jump out of the car. But somehow, you trust that the engineers actually knew what they were doing when they built the dumb thing so you just throw up your hands and scream. I say, bring it on, God!
         Like the prophet said, "Here I am, send me!"

Alyssa out.


     


"another fine bit of writing brought to you by yours truly"

Ramblings on friendship...

Good grief!

      It's been a while since I last wrote a blog. Sorry, everyone! To say that I've been too busy would be both an understatement, a lie, and somewhat of a cop out. I did put pictures up on Facebook, so I hope that gets me out of trouble somewhat?  
      I heard from my parents that I did indeed graduate from college and in fact my degree arrived (should be coming? not sure)! So that's good. Also, I turned 21! Not to worry, though. I didn't go drinking. But I have to say, I was so amazed at the way people here poured out love on my birthday. I was honestly kind of expecting the day to suck. I mean, not that anything is wrong with the people here. I just didn't imagine that anyone would really go out of their way here. Why bother? Much to my surprise, what happened was quite the reverse. I had told a few people about my "dream" of going to a bar on my 21st to order chocolate milk. In my mind, it's wickedly funny. So at 12:00 am (literally), my friend Emily woke me up with chocolate milk in hand! It was probably one of the most thoughtful things... ever. She's only known me a couple of weeks, but she set her alarm to wake her up just to bring me chocolate milk. And another lady here on staff made me a birthday cake--the sprinkle kind! I was really taken aback by it all. Not that people aren't nice to me at home--at all! It's just... I love the way that people here mean business when they say they're your friend. In many ways I'm not used to the kind of attention I get here. People seriously go out of their way to help. Whether I've needed someone to talk to, or someone to cover for me in the cafe for a minute while I have to do something, or even just helping out on KP, I'm never short of people willing to be there. I feel so truly blessed. I almost don't know what to do with myself at times. I love my friends here.
     Now this isn't to say that I haven't had some hard times here. (All my peeps "in the know" can give a guffaw at this point.) But I can truly say that here in Ensenada I have felt at peace since the second I set down my suitcase. Between helping out on worship with Rho, goofing off in the kitchen with Alex, or "special special time" in the afternoon cafe with Thomas, I have felt right at home wherever I've been. I know I won't be an intern forever, but for all the work that goes with it, I can't believe how much fun it is. I almost don't want to sleep for fear that I'll miss out on something.
     This blog may seem rambling right now, but I was serious when I said I didn't wanna sleep. I'm a bit deprived at the moment. I have just been reflecting a lot lately on the blessing of friendship. I miss my friends at home dearly, but I am so thankful for the friends I've been given here as well.

A few closing notes...
*please be praying for an open door to stay here in Ensenada as August draws closer and closer

*my cell phone is back up and operational (THANKS, ASAF!!!!). So you'll actually be able to call me now... if you don't have my number.. it probably means I don't want you to. hah!






"another fine bit of writing brought to you by yours truly"