Why?

The hallway is silent except from the occasional sob that escapes from my lips. I’m thankful there’s no one around to witness the tears coming out of my eyes. I look down at my phone sitting on the window sill with a text message still on the screen. A fresh wave of emotions sweeps over me.

One question looms in my mind. As much as I try to push it away, it comes back with even more fervency. Finally when I can’t take it anymore, I ask the question aloud as I raise my eyes to the sky.

“Why?”

No answer.

“Why am I here?”

Still silence.

“Why did you call me to stay here? I know you told me to stay, but why?”

You see, last semester I had an opportunity to study abroad in England. Taking a semester off to experience a different culture has always been on my bucket list and the opportunity seemed perfect. Every reason in the world seemed to be pointing to me going, but after praying hard about this, God kept impressing me over and over again that I needed to stay. Sometimes I would doubt if I was really hearing correctly, but in the moments where I felt His presence the closest, I always knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was to stay at SAU for this coming semester. There were people here at Southern that He wanted me to be there for.

Then the semester started. Everything was great and wonderful! I was having a wonderful time and God was opening doors for ministry that I hadn’t expected. Yes, I knew that I had followed God’s leading!

But then four weeks into school, everything began to change.

I began to question if it really was God’s will that I was to be here at Southern this semester. If it was His will, then why did everything seem to be going so wrong? Why was there more pain in my life and more pain in other’s lives because I was here at SAU? Had I studied abroad, would all of this have happened?

As I stood beside the window, I kept asking that question. Again and again I kept asking God “why?”

And then it hit me.

Why do I have to know the “why?” Why do I need to know the reasoning behind the calling of God? Would knowing why actually help or instead would it make me so focused on fulfilling that “why” that I would forget the other purposes God has for me and my life? If I knew the answer, would I find myself trusting in God less?

Give it all to me, God seemed to be saying, your doubts and fears, your pain and tears. Surrender it all to me and let me take care of the why. And in due time, perhaps you will see why I’ve called you here at this specific time. It’s through all of this that I can show you my love and you can trust me like you never have before.

Alright God, I’ll give it all to you. That was the prayer of my heart that night and it continues to be with each passing day. A verse that I have held onto during the past month is Proverbs 3:5, 6 which says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understandings. In all your ways submit to, and He will make your path straight.” That includes the times where everything around you seems wrong. As a friend once told me, sometimes you need to go blindly into the darkness until God shows you the light switch.

It hasn’t been easy! I don’t want to give God every situation or trust Him completely, especially in the dark. Some things seem too precious to completely give into His hands. Yet why do I hold on to them? What good can I, as a feeble human, really do to fix the problems in my world? Even though it’s a struggle, I have found that there is no better place to be at than with your life completely in God’s hands. It is not always comfortable, but there is trust that can only be found in Him.

So even though I do not have all the answers, even though I still wonder why God called me to stay here, I’m going to trust. Blindly and wholly on the Rock that is higher than I, who’s thoughts are better than mine, and who can hold me in the palm of His hand. 

Clinging

What do you do when life seems to be so normal and uncomplicated and then in one night, everything changes?

What do you do when you feel as though you are climbing Mount Everest with only a pick-ax and a old pair of tennis shoes, seeming to slip right back from where you came?

What do you do when you cry yourself to sleep, desperately wanting guidance from God yet when you hear the words from above, you're afraid to follow them?

What do you do when life seems confusing and troubling?

What do you do when you're emotionally spent yet something else happens to break you down again?

You cling.

You cling to Jesus as you never have before.

It's strange but it's always in these hard times that we see Jesus for who He really is: the comforter of the brokenhearted, the healer of deepest pain, the light in the darkest night. He never seems to be quite as real when the sun is shining brightly and life just seems to be perfect.

But it's hard to cling to someone you can't see.

It's so much easier to find comfort in those around, you yet that comfort never quite satisfies.

I love Proverbs 3:5 and 6 because of the power in it's words: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understandings. In all your ways submit to Him and He will make your path straight."

We're so feeble as humans. Our heat and mind will say completely opposite things so how in the world are we suppose to decide what to do? Well, according to this verse we don't follow either. There's only one person in the world that we can put trust in and know that they can never fail us. He's the one that will guide us though whatever storm comes our way.

When reading the Bible, you have to wonder how people like Joseph kept his faith when everything fell apart or how John the Baptist could still have faith in Jesus the seconds before they put an end to his life. Now I've certainly never been under persecution or put in jail for following my God! Yet even in such tough times, they held fast to God. Nothing was going to shake their faith and through it their faith increased.

I want to cling to God. I don't want anything to shake me from His arms of protection and love. I want to know that He is always holding me. I know I can't do it on my own. My own grip is weak and trembling, but I know that although it may seem like I'm holding on to Him, He is actually holding on to me with His strong hands that will never, ever let go.

He's the one clinging.

He's the one that will not let me go.

Less than Qualified

He was only a child: separated from his parents because of a vow and bombarded by negative influences.

She was only a housewife: respected by her people but living in a troublesome time.

He was only a prisoner: Betrayed, tempted, and wrongly accused.

She was only a girl: young, sickly, and uneducated.

Yet it was Samuel that God called to be His voice after years of little counsel being given by the Lord. Though no more than 6 years only when He first entered into the sanctuary, he didn’t allow the influence of Eli’s sons to cause him to sin against his God.

It was Deborah who was called to lead the army of Israel because the warrior Barak didn’t have enough faith in God. Never mind that she was married and living in a time where the very thought of a woman going to war shook the very foundations of their society, she was going to follow God’s guidance no matter what the people around her might think of her decision.

It was Joseph that was called to save entire countries. Taken from his family in his youth and brought into the house of Potiphar. Joseph stood firm when his master wife showed him an easy way out of his bondage (something not unheard of in his day) and was willing to be killed rather than disobey his master and his God. Then after being brought so low, he was raised up to second in command of the known world and became the savoir of those who had treated him cruelly.

It was Ellen White that God called to be his prophet after others had turned down God’s offer. Although a wife and mother, she traveled extensively sharing the gospel and helping to organize the Seventh-day Adventist church.

No wonder that in Joel 2:28-29, God makes no distinction to the men and women He will call in the last days, both young and old, to spread the gospel to the ends of the earth.

“And it shall come to pass afterward

That I will pour out My Spirit on all flesh;

Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,

Your old men shall dream dreams,

Your young men shall see visions.

And also on My menservants and on My maidservants

I will pour out My Spirit in those days.”

It makes you wonder what God really looks at when He is calling someone into ministry. I’m sorry, but I can’t imagine God saying, “This person would touch so many lives as a missionary, but they are just too young, even though I can give them the strength to face any obstacle that might be in their way” or “This person would impact so many for my kingdom, but I’m not sure if I can call someone who is not a man in his 20s.”

The words spoken to Samuel by the Lord when Samuel was looking for the new king (who ended up being one of the most unlikely candidates) were, “…The Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7)

What makes a person fit for ministry? Simply the calling of God.

End of story.

To Go or Stay

"I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord,

O’er mountain or plain or sea.

I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord;

I’ll be what you want me to be."

As Adventists, we put a lot of emphasis on going where God wants us to go. One of our favorite verses to recite is “Go, therefore, and make disciples…” We sing songs that talk about “Going afar upon the mountain” and push for missionaries into go into ALL the earth.

Maybe it is because we feel that in going somewhere remote (be it on Kenya's Savannah or a rice field in China), we are becoming the brave souls that mission stories emphasize. Or is it because we feel that when we “go” we reach a higher spirituality than those who “stay.”

Yet is it possible that sometimes God calls us to stay?

This concept is somewhat new to me, perhaps because I’ve heard in church, “Go be a missionary! But if adventure, complete trust in God, and your relationship with Him isn’t strong enough...then I guess you can be a missionary wherever you are at.”

Okay, so maybe people haven’t actually said this but I think that sometimes this is the impression that is given. Yes, in the Bible we find stories of people like Daniel, Joseph, Little Maid, Paul, etc. that ministered to people far from home yet the Bible also tell stories of those who were called to stay. Jesus after all remained in Nazareth for 30 years before God called Him to begin His ministry. And then there are the stories like Elijah running from Jezebel where people ended up in trouble for going where God had not called them.

Going when God calls us to go and staying when God wants us to stay has been echoed by several of the staff here at Au Sable. With so many leaving camp for the summer and the discussion of plans for the future, I’ve thought even more about it.

Now before you start your protests, I don’t mean by any means that “staying” equals not doing anything. On the contrary, it means just as much work and intentionality as “going.” In fact by staying, there is sometimes an even a greater need for purpose and determination because it’s so easy to fall away from what God is calling us to do when we are not completely removed from our comfort zone. As pointed out by many, sometimes the hardest mission field is the one closest to home.

You see, it’s never been about the location when it comes to God’s calling. You could be at the perfect place for ministry yet if that’s not where God has called you, your efforts will be fruitless. Dare I even say it’s not about you, for God could use a million other ways to reach souls, but instead it’s about Him and the work He will do through you.

Which brings me to the whole “women’s ordination” thing…

What would happen if we put less emphasis on the person doing the work and instead focused on the One who has called that person to ministry and the work that He alone has ordained? Maybe the whole question about ordination would become just a bit less meaningful as we would suddenly realize that it is the commissioning of God on men and women that actually carries the importance. I could go on but that’s a subject for another post!

So what is the point of all these words? Simply that there is no difference where you work for God. What matters is the calling He has placed on your life and the way you respond to that call, whether it is to go or stay.

Believing Again

As I stare into the blackness surrounding, a tear trickles down my cheek. I drown out the chatter of the awaiting campers at the Friday night passion play and as I lean against the wall, everything else seems to fade away.

So this is the reason that I’m standing here now. You knew God, even when I doubted.

The backstory to this day begins at the very beginning of camp. As soon as I heard of the 3 Part Play that takes place every year at Au Sable, I knew I wanted to be a part of it. Once auditions rolled around, I couldn’t wait to try out for some of the major roles, but when casting was decided, I ended up with a small role in the Passion Play on Friday night. In selfishness, I began wondering why, when God knew I loves acting more than anything else in the world, He was only allowing me to act for less than 4 minutes per week.

Last Friday night I was with my girls at the gym when I noticed one of the girls sitting away from the group, obviously distraught. I walked over to sit down by her and asked her what was wrong. At first she didn’t say much, only keeping the conversation at surface level. Slowly her walls began to break down and she began to cry. She told me about her life, things she said she had never told anyone else before. Abuse, both mental, physical, and sexual, had been a part of her childhood and the guilt she had been carrying around because of this seemed more that such a young girl could handle. Yet this was her life, a life still filled with abuse. She had spent her life feeling like she was damaged goods and having been judged by those very people who were abusing her. As she opened up, she would ask me what she should do about these situations, so many of them impossible for there to be any fast or easy solution.

Although I talked with her for an hour and a half, you could tell that she was having a hard time understanding how God could love her. Although I wished that we could talk more, I had to leave her with another staff member that were part of the cabin family (staff that have been assigned to specific cabins so that they can interact with the campers) because the evening program was going to start in no time at all.

As I ran/walked the mile or so to the Pathfinder Pavilion, I kept thinking about our conversation and praying constantly for her. I rushed to get into my costume and quickly took out the braids that where there to create messy waves in my hair. As the overhead lights turned off and the campers began to file in, I finally had a moment to take it all in.

And that’s when I realized fully that my role in the passion play completely mirrored the feeling of this young girl. You see, my character was the woman caught in adultery. The shame and guilt my camper had felt her whole life echoed what this women (perhaps Mary Magdalene) experienced when thrown at Jesus’ feet.

Think about it. It’s one thing to be caught in sin and taken outside of the city to be killed. It’s a complete different thing to be brought to the most holy place in Jerusalem to a man who has already tried to save you, yet for whatever reason you’ve turned your back on Him and returned to the darkness. You know how you will be viewed in His eyes.

A hopeless cause.

Completely broken and beyond repair.

Getting what is rightly deserved.

How else could He view you?

But instead He is silent as those hypocritical, self-righteous men weave words of charm to trap Him as they have trapped you.  He’s thinking of their sins, not yours. Without spoken words, He silences their charges and with only the movement of His finger, He causes the stones to fall from their hands.

And then when it’s just you and Him, He picks you up from the ground and tells you that although He knows of your sins, He sees a better life for you to live. He loves you in spite of what you’ve done and nothing you could ever do would change that fact. And He’s waiting, waiting for you to make a decision to allow Him to take charge of your life and transform the life you’ve been living into one of completeness and joy.

When my camper stood up when the pastor called for those to stand who wanted to give their lives to Jesus for the first time and then walked to the front to show she wanted to be baptized, I couldn’t hold back a single tear. Through the play she had finally come to understand God’s amazing love and in our cabins journal, she wrote that she now believed again in a God out there who loved her no matter what.

That’s what camp ministry is all about: showing campers the love of Jesus so that they can believe in Him again, either for the first time or for the hundredth time. It's about showing them a love beyond anything they've ever experienced here on earth and making it real in their lives.

Finding the Words

Tears are flowing down her face as she leans against the bunk bed. The visible struggle on her face sets the tone for the decision she is trying to make. She says very little I stand beside her, my arm wrapped around her trembling shoulder. My mind races for the right words. How can I show her the right choice to make?

Oh God, now what do I say?

You know those moments that come out of nowhere and you’re searching for the right thing to say? Those times when you’re in a totally new situation and you don’t have the faintest idea what you should do or say?

Camp is all about those moments, and there’s no doubt that after another 5 weeks here the list of new experiences will increase! Yet some moments stand out more than other’s because you realize so clearly that it has nothing to do with you but all to do with Him. You experience that feeling of complete helplessness and slowly but surely feel the guiding hand of God instructing you with your every action.

Standing by that bunk bed, I felt completely unsure of myself. Our conversation had gone from talking about church clothes to what a relationship with Jesus is all about (something I know could only be the work of God.) She had been quiet and thoughtful all morning but I never in a million years expected the conversation to take such a turn. Sure, this was a girl that had spent most of the week goofing off with her new found friends, but up until that moment, she had rarely, if ever, shown a real desire for spiritual things. As the conversation began to take a spiritual turn, a question popped into my head, “Have you ever accepted Jesus into your life?” At first I shook it off, thinking that it wasn’t the right time to ask such a personal question. I mean, after all, a few minutes ago she had been trying to convince me that wearing athletic shorts to church would be okay. Was this really the right moment? Although I was hesitant, I asked that question. She lowered her eyes and responded that she hadn’t ever exactly done that.

Around this time, tears began filling her eyes, and I left the bed that I was sitting on to stand beside her. I tried to think about what I had heard in sermons and workshops about leading someone to Christ. I’ll never forget how as the silent pauses would grow, I’d offer a quick prayer up to heaven and suddenly I’d have an idea about what I could say.

I’ll never forget the moment she finally spoke to say that she wanted to say yes to Jesus but that she was scared. A few moments later, she accepted Him into her life. There is such joy to see a camper decide to follow Jesus for a counselor that I can’t imagine what it must be like for God to watch as one of His beloved children accept the love He has been offering to them for so many years. I’d only known this girl for one short week, yet she had quickly become someone that I wished to see accept Jesus and having the opportunity to see it happen brings tears to my eyes.

How amazing is our God! He works on hearts that seem unable to be reached and allows us to take part in His ministry. He gives us the words and ideas when we have none. He is our everything and the strength that we can always run to. So next time you don’t know how to respond to someone’s questions, offer up a quick prayer to heaven and watch as God begins His amazing work.

Calling for Help

The girls are at it again; tempers rise and wining begins. Taking a bath at the end of the day results in comments like, “I can’t do it! Why can’t we just take one tomorrow? I wanna go home!” Going to the undesired activity produces responses such as, “Why do we have to do this? We never get to do anything fun. It’s not fair!!!”

While the Adventurer girls fuss and whine, I find myself sending up a desperate prayer:

“God help me!”

Perhaps they are the most common and, above that, the most important words a counselor can utter.

As a counselor, one learns that there are some things that can be “handled” by yourself but even more that are out of your control. You may decide that the day is going to be great fun out on the lake but…then it starts raining and your campers begin complaining about staying inside. Or you want to have a special worship one evening but…it takes you forever to arrive back at the cabin after campfire and by the time everyone is showered and ready for worship, 11:00 pm has come and gone. And in that madding rush, don’t forget to set your alarm for 5:30 am!

It’s during those times when nothing seems to be going your way and the campers are revealing their true colors that you realize anew that you’re really not cut out for this job. Your credentials may have looked nice but nothing could have prepared you for camp. Pretty fast you figure out that there is no way you will get through this summer by your own strength. And that is when we send up the prayers for help, when all hell seems ready to break loose.

But why?

Why do we wait until the storm has hit and the waves are rolling to call for Jesus’ help?

Maybe it’s because we are just like the disciples on Lake Galilee. The moment that storm began to form, they could have wakened Jesus and said, “Lord, we think we’re pretty experienced fishermen and have battled many a storm, but we need your help anyways.” But no, they decided to battle the winds and the rains until just before the boat was about to sink and then cry, “Lord, we’ve tried to battle this storm by ourselves for quite some time but now we’re going to die so help us now, okay?!”

Calling on God for help before things become chaotic is something that I know I need to work on. I’m the type that hates to ask anyone for a favor unless I know there is no way I can do something without them. Even then whenever I ask I feel horrible about asking. Although I know asking God for help is never a bother to Him, it’s still in my nature to go through the day trying to rely on my strength and power.

The thing is, God shouldn’t just be God of the storms and trials but also the God of the peace and the calm. Jesus should be Lord of our lives when our world seems to be coming apart but also when we have a world of wonderful possibility in front of us. He’s our help in time of trouble but He is just as powerful and essential in time of joy.

During one of those times of trouble here at camp, I send out a text message to friends asking for prayer and one of my friends Christine reminded me of a verse I had learned in Sabbath School many years before. “Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit says the Lord of Host.”

This is easy to believe when it’s obvious that there was no way we could have done something by ourselves but do we believe this even when it seems like everything is all going according to our plans and wishes? Do we really believe that it’s only by the power of God that we can do any true good in this world?

Opportunity Knocks

The Christmas lights have been turned out. Even the girl’s flashlight have been put away and all is peace and quiet. The camper’s bags have been packed and on top of their beds sit their clothes for tomorrow, the day when they finally get to see their parents or guardians again! “12:17 am”, my clock tells me as I lay down to sleep. It’s been a late night with the special “girl’s party” we had to close out the week and then story telling as they fell into exhausted sleep. But I’m not quite ready for bed.

Silently, I walk to each girl’s bed. Gently, I place my hands on their shoulder and softly whisper a prayer for each of these girls, my girls for the week. They’re so tiny, the youngest being only 7 and the oldest not quite 10. So much of life they have seen yet how much more they have yet to face. As I pray, I wonder what battles each one may someday face. There’s no telling so although I pray for some things specifically, the rest of my words paint broad strokes over their future lives.

I walk back to my bed and sit down on the edge. I know I need to go to sleep but these girls are still on my mind, and one questions keeps ringing in the back of my mind.

“Have I done enough?”

I try to push it aside as I feel tears gathering in my eyes but now that I’ve begun to wonder, there’s no getting rid of the questions.

“Was I always Jesus to them? Did I always reveal His love to them?”

“Were all their questions answered and were the answers I gave easy enough to understand and take to heart?”

“What opportunities did I miss because I was too tired or busy? Was one of my girls ready to accept Jesus when a mistake of my own distracted her from that choice?”

“Did I give it my all? Did I do all that I could?”

At times I know I could have done more. Perhaps someone with more Biblical knowledge could have given better answers and someone more in tuned to the Holy Spirit could have seen opportunities I might have missed.

Yet it’s not the opportunities missed that we focus on. Yes, they’re important to acknowledge and avoid in the future, but the opportunities capitalized on are what have the most value and prepare us for further work.

It’s the deep talks about the God’s gift of freewill as we walked back from the night time meetings that the girls would continue to ask questions about and eventually begin repeating it back to me and the other campers as similar questions came up throughout the week.

It’s the canoeing trips for fun turned into conversation about the purpose of baptism and how salvation and baptism fit together.

It’s the simple questions, such as what did a picture of a snake and a piece of fruit have to do with the Bible that turned into a retelling of the plan of salvation for a girl who didn’t know that story very well.

Now as another week rolls along, I pray that God will show me similar opportunities to reach my girls this week. Will I miss the mark sometimes? Probably, but I trust that God is a big enough God to cover my mistakes and reveal Himself to each camper this week.

Worthless Gold

Gold was everywhere! Splendor and beauty (and a bit of creepiness, too) dazzled the eyes. Every corner seemed to vie for your attention.

Yet all I saw was complete emptiness.

All completely worthless.

For our day off on Thursday, our group traveled to the city of Salvador to sightsee in one of the oldest cities in Brazil. Walking the streets of historic Salvador was in a way, stepping into a different time. Many of the building and streets could have been located in Spain and besides the clothing of the people around you, one felt like they were on a movie set. And the people milling about certainly were interesting to watch (from a human statue getting his paint on to a cross-dressing man.) Yet these interesting people were not what struck me that day.

Instead, it was a church.

The São Francisco Church was unlike anything I had seen before. Nearly every inch of this cathedral was overlaid with gold. From every corner was statues of angels and men staring down at you and watching your every move. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows as our group marveled at such an interesting place.

As I took pictures something kept ringing in my mind. Year after year people had come to this place, magnificent yet cold and dark, trying to win the favor of God. The reason for all the gold was again to earn the good will of their God. Did those who worshiped there feel unimportant and completely out of place in this cathedral, causing them to believe that they were barely on the mind of God and that He could never accept them? How many people decided to give up their faith because they realized that this kind of God isn’t worth serving or believing in? How many people went to their graves, giving all their money to the church and still wondering if they had earned the grace of God?

Yet all the gold in the world could never win His favor. No place of worship we build can ever earn us an honored place in heaven. You see, God is not like the cathedral we found in Salvador. You don’t have to whisper when you approach His throne. Every burden on your heart can be poured out to Him even if it includes tears and questioning. While God is magnificent, He revealed Himself to us as a poor, humble man. God doesn’t wait for us to come to Him through our own good works because He has already come down to us. Even though He has more majesty and glory than any earthly mind can imagine, He tells us that we can come boldly before His throne and that despite our shortcomings He still wants us to be a part of His kingdom.

So Tell Me about Brazil...

            “How many baptisms did you have?” Oh, how I dread this question. As people tell me of double digit numbers ready to take the steps towards baptism, I think back to my church. About the number I have to “show.” None. Nada. Not a single one. So tell me, does this make me a failure? Have I completely failed at the work God had for me to do in increasing the number of Adventists in Brazil?

            Originally I wasn’t assigned to the Caseb church. In the confusion of the first night, Christine and I were mixed up and sent to the “wrong” churches. I didn’t realize this mistake until I arrived back and Christine informed me of the fact. Both of us were uncertain of how we should proceed and prayed that evening and morning that God would show us what we should do (either switch back to our original churches or stay in the church we had arrived at.) In the end, we decided to stay in our churches, knowing that God could work though this "mistake."

            My church didn’t have any extra ordinary experiences while I was there. We never had people weeping over their sins or people walking up at the end of the meeting proclaiming that they were going to completely turn their lives around. No, the people whose lives were impacted were not those who had never heard the Gospel. It was the lives of young children, 20-year-members, and also me.

            When I first walked into my church on Friday night, I quickly looked around to see if there were any children. Studying to be an Elementary teacher, I was hoping to interact with children of that age. While there was a group of high school aged young people, I didn’t see a single child in the audience. As the other preachers reunited with stories of all the adorable children in their church, I wondered why God had put me in a church with so few children. Even after meeting more children in my church on Sabbath morning, I felt as though there was not an easy way to communicate with them, knowing very little Portuguese. Yet though drawing, giving of gifts, talking through my translator, and simply giving hugs after every meeting, we became friends and when I had to leave, they were some of the people that I hated to leave the most. Even though they were young, they would pay attention during the meeting. One night as I was giving an altar call for those to come forward who wanted to accept Jesus, Camille, a 12 year old girl, was the first to come up.

            It wasn’t just the young who seemed impacted by the meetings. People who had been going to church for years were touched by God’s Spirit. After preaching the final sermon about Heaven, my translator told me that a man who had been going to church for 20 years had come up to him afterwards and said that he had heard this sermon in a completely new way and that it had moved him to tears. While talking about the reunion we will experience when Jesus comes back, both with those who have died in Jesus and those who are now separated by oceans, tears were shed by many, including myself, as we all found ourselves looking forward to that glorious day.

            You see, I was changed as well. I have a whole different understanding of what ministry is all about, and I’m not talking about the preaching aspect of ministry. Yes, I learned a lot about how sermons should be preached through trial and error, and I certainly gained insight from my local church as I participated in visitations. However, what I realized how ministry cannot be defined simply as the act of preaching or visiting people’s homes. Ministry is a lifestyle that is constantly happening and cannot be stopped even for an instant. I also learned that ministry is exhausting. It’s one of the most rewarding things you can ever do and there is a special energy I believe God gives, but ministry also can completely drain you if you don’t take time to rest and recharge your relationship with God. You can be so involved with God’s work that you actually feel as though you don’t have time to spend in communion with Him.

            I leave Brazil with a heavy heart but a heart filled with love for the people in Brazil. Having left brothers and sisters in Christ at the Caseb church, I praise God that He put me in the “wrong” church. There is not a doubt in my mind that the mix-up that took place was actually God's original plan.

But, have I failed in my ministry because I did not baptize any new members? First off, isn't this question flawed? It is never “I” who has success in ministry. Secondly, when has success for God only been measured by baptisms? Yes, the purpose of mission campaigns may be to baptize people into the Adventist church, yet success cannot be measured by such small standards. Echoed during multiple morning meetings with our group was the fact that we won’t necessarily see the results of our labor. So even with “nothing to show,” nothing has changed the passion in my heart for ministry. This has confirmed more than ever that I want my career to be my ministry, that there is no other way I could ever be happy with anything else. Mission work isn’t just for “heathens” but is also for the church as well. Those of us in the church can be touched and changed no matter how many times we hear the Gospel story.

            And that my friends is the power of the Gospel! It never grows old or runs dry. No matter how many times we speak of Christ’s love, we can still be amazed at the depth that it reaches and the width that it stretches. So even though every night for the past two weeks I’ve talked about this amazing God and His ever reaching love, my mouth still wants to speak of His love and my hands want to reveal His character to every person I meet.

(Un)Spoken Words

"God's working in powerful ways!" But right now I don't feel like I've seen Him work in any extraordinary way at my church.

"Brazil is great!" But I feel tired 24-7 and I'm counting down the days until I get back.

"The people are wonderful!" But I sometimes feel alone and left out when I can't understand the language.

"Our group works together so well!" But you don't see the little arguments that tear our group apart.

"God definitely put me here for a purpose!" But as I look out over Feira de Santana, I'm questioning my calling to come here.

Have you ever written something to someone and laughed at the hypocrisy in your message?

Have you shaken you head at the "correct" responses you've given to people when you know the opposite is true?

Have you questioned the fake and shallow way we talk to each other on a daily basis?

You see, behind all the positive things I've said about Brazil (don't get me wrong, those things I do truly believe) is a girl that is struggling. Questions about if this really is where God wants me to be have repeated themselves in my mind for the past week. As people come back with powerful stories about the teary eyed people who respond to baptism and the deeply theological conversations they are having with church members, I ask myself what am I doing wrong. Evangelists aren't supposed to struggle, right? Mission trips are about answering questions about God's future calling for your life, correct? 

Yet I don't find anywhere in the Bible a place where it says, "You'll never doubt why you've been lead to this point." Instead God says, "I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them." (Isaiah 42:16) God's paths are not always like the highways of America but more like the dark and wet pebble stone alleyways of Bahia. No where does God promise that we will see immediate results from our work. Yes, we find stories in the Bible of entire cities being converted by the preaching of one person, but we also find prophets who spent their whole lives working to prepare people's hearts for Hod who rarely saw the fruit of their labor. Working for God doesn't mean always feeling happy or fulfilled.

So what is God trying to teach me in all of this? I don't know. Prepare yourselves because I'll probably have quite a few more blog post in the future that come to this same conclusion! Right now as I think about it, I wonder who God didn't send someone more qualified, someones closer to Him, someone who could produce baptisms in the double digits. I can guarantee you there are hundreds of thousands of people out there who fit the job description better than I! Yet here I am, broken and messed up, discouraged and worn, and wishing to be home. Although I know I'm undeserving and feeling completely without strength, still I cry out:

"Here I am, God; use me!"

Ministry is...

Ministry:

the period of service or office of a minister or ministry 

the act of serving

one that serves as a means; an instrumentality

Sorry Webster's Dictionary, but I'm afraid as nicely as you tried to capture what ministry is all about you completely missed the target. Yes, ministry is all of these things but it's also so much more! What is ministry to me? You'll probably wish by the end of this that you hadn't asked;)

Ministry is reaching out to people who you've just met and lifting them up in prayer. You may not know the language but prayer is a universal language. 

Ministry is being ready at a moments notice to give a Bible study. About to walk into a house and asked to give a Bible study? As unprepared as you may feel, you're ministering.

Ministry is singing a song for church even if you're scared, if singing isn't your "thing" or you can't really play an instrument well.

Ministry is talking to people who may have never set foot in a church before. It's also talking to people who have been to church every Sabbath of their life. Ministry is relating to all of these people!

Ministry is trying new foods that we're not sure we'll like and sharing a humble meal. It may even consist of eating something that you'd never eat in the States.

Ministry is eating chocolate that had fallen on the floor to show that you're no different than the people around you.

Ministry is laughing at jokes you may not completely understand but understand enough to realize it would be very funny if you understood Portuguese.

Ministry is staying up late to go over the sermon and waking up early to practice. It's working hard to make the sermons relatable to our individual audience. 

Ministry is using Spanish/English/French/Sign Language/drawing or whatever language we know to build relationships and friendships.

Ministry is a simple smile or "Feliz Sabado".

Ministry is a way of life, not a single event or behavior. You can't minister to people if you haven't incorporated ministry into what you do each and every day. It's a lifestyle, a way of being. 

Ministry is the living, breathing Gospel in the lives of every follower of Christ.

I Need Rest!!!

"It'll be fun!" they said.

"It's a day off."

"You'll be able to rest and store up energy for the coming weekend."

Well, I hate to break it to you but the only part that proved to be true was the first quote. You see, this past Thursday was a day that we didn't have to preach. There are several reasons for this break (allowing church members time to prepare for the weekend, pastors to take the time to visit with those visiting the church, etc.) but one reason ERC was to give the preachers time to breath. We may be spending a quarter of our days staring at a computer screen but that doesn't mean that we're not tired each night we climb into bed around 11:00 pm or 12:00 am and then wake at 6:30 am (all depending on the person of course.)

Great, I thought to myself when I heard that we would have a night off. As the week wore on, I was certainly loosing my energy of ministry that those who know me best realize only happens when I'm truly exhausted. Sure, we had to wake up early to be on the bus, and it was going to be a long drive, but it'd be perfect. So as the clock struck 7:00-ish, Brazilian time remember, off our little bus (that had wifi!!!) went down the road.

 After a long car ride, we arrive at a beach where we walked in literal circles for a while (no joke) and then finally went into an area where you could see different types of sea creatures. Next we played in the ocean, ate lunch, then went shopping at an outlet (pronounced out-lech-ee) which wasn't much different from the outlet stores in America (but fun none the less.) We arrived back at the hotel at 8:00 pm and by 11:00 pm, I laid my head on my pillow and fell asleep.

Looking back, we really didn't do all that much. It was a pretty chill day (minus the Heads Up played as we drove home) so shouldn't I have felt rested and refreshed today? Yeah, so not the case! Literally from the moment I opened my eyes until I took a 15 minute nap, I felt like there was no way I was going to be able to get through the day and preach this evening. I'm a quiet person to begin with but when I'm tired, forget about me socializing! It just doesn't happen without me putting forth a ton of effort. This "restful" day proved to be just the opposite! Yes, it was lots of fun but the entire group ended up more tired than when we started.

Isn't that how Satan works? He tells us he can give us rest and relaxation; no more rules and regulations. His offer looks and sounds promising, everything we could ever imagine! But by the time he gets done with us, we end up so much more broken than when we started. It may have been fun while it lasted but now all we want is to lay these burdens down. Yet instead of turning to the Life Giver, we listen to Satan once again as he entices us once again to fall back into his empty road of sorrow. It never satisfies and never offers peace. And because we live in a sinful world, even the times we don't follow Satan can still lead to weariness.

But Jesus has a wonderful promise in Matthew 11:28 saying, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. When we realized that chasing after this world only leaves us worn out and that only God can give us true rest, our lives can completely change! There a peace that God brings that is not affected by the things happening around us, no matter how tired we may feel. One of my favorite songs is Worn by Tenth Avenue North and really describes the cry of our hearts. So if you feel exhausted and tired, realize that God's waiting to bring rest into your life. Will you never feel worn out again? No, I'm sure you will feel that way sometimes but He can bring a peace that fills our every being even when we feel as though there's no way we can go on.

Through Prison Walls

Rats scurried in the corner of the damp jail cell. A single beam of light trickled down from the small opening in the large wooden door that shut out the outside world. There he sat, half the man he once was. No, he wasn't even close enough to his old life to even consider himself the same person, he thought to himself. If only his ancestors could see him now. They wouldn't claim me as their own, he couldn't help but believe. And what if those in his home country could see him, sitting in rags and smelling of decay and waste, what would they think? He could almost hear the jeers and laughter spilling from their mouths.

How dare he be treated in such a way! He deserved the highest respect, yet whenever he alluded to this fact to a guard, his treatment would always suffered. In their eyes, he was no longer important or looked after, and he began to believe the same. No, now he was nothing, and the squander of the jail cell around him constantly reminded him of that fact. Everything he had ever put value in had been unceremoniously stripped from his hands. The pride he once felt now haunted him as if to say, "You may have thought you once important, but you've never been anything more than a broken water jar with potential to do something of use to this world yet so broken and incomplete that you have never and could never be of use to a single person on this planet." Rock bottom? He laughed; this was literally his reality.

So there he sat, in filth and all, trying to escape from himself. He thought of better times yet realized that he had to go back to his childhood to find such a time. Life was good back then. Everything he could ever want or need was brought to him. He had a life every boy or girl would envy, but this happy life had nothing to do with all those possessions. In a way it had to do with his father. He could still remember the nights when they would sit under the stars and his father would tell of their ancestors and how they had been led by the one true God. Even now he laughed at this exclusive Being that his father and many of his father's fathers had worshiped. He had learned quickly after his father's death that such a God couldn't be trusted. No, this God had rob him of all his joy. Yes, his father claimed that this God had already extended his life, but no, a God of love wouldn't take away a boy's father when he was only twelve years old, at a time when he needed him the most.

Everything had fallen to him. The responsibilities were endless and stress continual. The stress was what drove him to into what his father would have called, "the way of the evil one." Oh how he hated every time his father's best friend would approach him and tell him about how he was ruining his life and would some day suffer the consequences of the life he was now choosing to follow. Yet the silence of death, a horrible death he could now admit, hadn't stopped this warnings from constantly ringing in his ears.

But now he was nothing, and if there were such an all-knowing God, then this indeed was his punishment. "A punishment worse than death", he mumbled to himself. It was too late to make his life right, too late to set the record straight. His life had indeed been ruined and it was all his fault. This God, perhaps He was real, must hate him for the atrocities that had been done against Him by this man sitting in the dungeon.

Well, he hated this God, too! Sorrow and pain had been all he had ever known. Yes, he had a life of pleasure but a pleasure that could never satisfy and hunger and thirst that could never be quenched. Anger welled up inside of him as he slowly rose to his feet. He looked up into the black rock above him, trying to imagine the stars shining down like they had in his childhood, yet the blackness that never seemed to end covered every spark of light that possibly shown past his trapped cell.

With words of curse he yelled, his voice echoing around him causing him to scream all the louder. All the pain he had felt, not just during this imprisonment, but every moment of his life poured out in a long stream of profanity. His emotions rose and grew until in a final cry he realized that he had nothing else to say. Here in this dark prison he had taken out all his anger and wrath out on this God of his father's. As his words faded into the forever silent darkness, he suddenly realized that this God, if he really was there, had every reason to strike him dead. Had anyone else in history committed so many atrocities against Him? Tears filled his eyes as he visualized every wrong choice: the prophets he had condemned to death, his own people who he had lead astray, and worst of all the children that he had offered to the god's of other lands as a sacrifice. No, death was the only thing he deserved and if he could he would end this miserable life right now.

Suddenly, out of the dark silence came the words of his father's friend which seemed to whisper down into his cell. He could still remember the last time he had heard these words, first spoken while his father still lived and then spoken for the last time right before his father's friend Isaiah's life was cut short. He still remembered the eyes of this godly man, burning right into his soul yet lovingly inviting at the same time, as the words were spoken. "Manasseh, the God of Heaven who you refuse to accept declares that though your sins cover you as a scarlet robe, when you turn back to God He will make them as white as snow. Though your righteousness of rags be red like crimson, he can turn your broken life into brand-new woolen robe fit for a king."

The tears that were welling up in his eyes now began to flow freely as this ever reaching love began to flow over him for the first time in years. Barely spoken aloud, quieter than a whisper, Manasseh spoke words that he had never expected to say: "Save me. Help me. Cleanse me." Again and again he repeated these words and the strange feelings of love grew until the pain and sorrow of these past years, this past life, began to fall away. The God he had rejected and cursed, the God he had hated and scorned, the God who had silently listened to every angry word had now answered in the most unbelievable way. Instead of repaying Manasseh as he rightly deserved, giving back to him exactly what he had so gleefully shoved into this God's face, the exact opposite had been extended with open arms.

Peace.

Acceptance.

Forgiveness.

Understanding.

Hope.

Love. Unconditional love.

Was it possible? Could this even be believed?

So there, in a dark and dirty dungeon, this once proud king of Judah finally accepted the light that he had been fighting for his entire life. We don't much about what caused Manasseh to turn back to God after so many years of literally doing everything he could do against God. Yet however that actually event took place, the truth is that his story gives hope to every single child of God who has fallen away from Him or spent his or her whole life fighting against God. God's love can never end and it can never be overcome by anything we could ever do.

"Behold what manner of love the father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called children of God!"                                                         1 John 3 (NKJV)

Eu Não Entendo!

There are some sermons that are harder than others.

Reasons may vary but some could be that the topic is confusing or is a very touchy subject. When you are preparing, nerves that rarely surface start ringing in the back of your head like alarms clocks. Today sermon was like that for me. No, it wasn't a topic that people rarely mention because of its complexity or being sensitive issue. Strange enough it was about one of the "simplest" topics possible...

Salvation.

So why in the world did I find this topic so difficult you might ask?

Because this is the foundation that everything else is based on!

Because you have to put into words the incredible love of Jesus! 

Because as basic as it may be to the Christian faith, it's one of the most incomprehensible ideas that the human brain has ever tried to understand!

I don't like it when I can't explain something to someone or can't understand what someone is saying. Being here in Brasil has inspired me a million time over to take a year off school and study abroad to learn another language. I find that with this language barrier, I struggle to communicate with the people around me such as my church members and it can be extremely frustrating. When Glaucio, my translator, is by my side, it's possible to talk with those who don't speak English but the second someone begins to talk to him and have a separate conversation, all communication abilities ceases and the connection is cut short. 

Tonight while riding back to the hotel, I sat in the back seat with two other young women yet because neither of us spoke each other's language, we sat in silence. Smiles are nice but they do nothing when it comes to building a relationship. I kept thinking about how if we knew each other's language, we would probably be talking non-stop. No matter how much I wanted to make myself clear to them, my handful of Portuguese words failed miserably. 

That's how I felt when it came to expressing the love of God and His gift of salvation.

In truth, I may have grown up in the Adventist church but it's really been within the past few months that I have really began to marvel at the love of Jesus for His children. When you've sung "Jesus Loves Me" a million times in Sabbath School and had John 3:16 memorized since almost before you could talk, as scary as it sounds, Jesus' love becomes so mundane that it seems to begin to lose its power.

Yet, when one actually sits down and tries to understand and then explain the love of God, nothing makes sense!

How God can love us in our sin pushes human understanding. I can't help but think of a song I've sung many times:

How deep the Father's love for us

How vast beyond all measure

That He should give His only Son,

To make a wretch His treasure...

Ashamed I hear my mocking voice,

Call out among the scoffers

It was my sin that left Him there,

Until it was accomplished

His dying breath has brought me life...

Why should I gain from His reward?...

But this I know with all my heart

His wounds have paid my ransom.

No matter how difficult it is to understand, the truth is He loved us to death.

Never mind how impossible to comprehend, He loved and died for us when we were at our weakest, most wretched point.

No matter the number of times we promised ourselves we'd do better and then slipped right back into our old ways, His love kept reaching out to us past our sins and shortcomings to draw us back to God.

A little over a month ago, something happened in my life that God used to directly show me His unconditional love in a an extremely real way. I can't give details, but hopefully it will makes enough sense to say that God allowed me to experience this unexplainable love towards a dear friend. Yet even having so recently felt this love, I still can't put it into words.

And maybe that's right where God wants us to be. At a point where we know He loves us in such a powerful way yet simply can't wrap our minds around it. When we don't understand something we seek to understand it better, be it a foreign language or difficult concept. 

Seeking to understand God's love should be our driving force in life. The more we try to comprehend it, the more we will want to talk to others about this love. Our own love for Jesus and those around us will grow as we realize that God's love is deeper and wider than we as humans can fathom. 

So if you were looking for a deep and thoughtful post explaining how we can understand the love of God, sorry but I don't have much of an answer. I can try my best to explain it yet I've realized that the love of God can only be understood from experience. 

Considering my minuscule audience maybe it's a little strange to say this, but if you've never accepted Jesus or simply fallen away from Him, I just want to ask (no, beg) you to allow yourself to experience His love. Give Him your pain and tears and find yourself surrounded by this crazy love.

I'm telling you, once you experience it you'll find yourself seeking to understand this love all the more.

2 Sermons Down, 14 to Go

Excitement is in the air. 

One by one, a crowd begins to gather in the small lounge. Words of English and Portuguese mingle and swirl, eventually becoming so loud that the door to the room must be shut, so as not to wake other people already asleep. This group, strangers but a few days before, now embraces one another and their laughter fills the room like the fragrance of a beautiful tropical flower. They may have left scared and worried but they have returned conquerors through the power of the Holy Spirit.

Last night was the beginning of the 2 week evangelistic series that will be taking place here in Brasil. Leading up to the actual preaching, several in the group ran into complications (perhaps I'll fill you in at some point down the road.) On top of that, trying to figure out who was going where caused quite a bit of trouble. As we stood outside the hotel as the rain poured, many of us left in a hurry and when many of us came to our church some of the confusion continued. By the time I stood up to preach, I was worried and not sure what to expect in the next hour. 

Yet for most, the nights presentation went as planned and we enjoyed the evening immensely. As we finished, drove back to the hotel, and finally began to gather in the hotel lounge, suddenly all the relief and joy began to escape and we began to ask about each others churches. Many of the translators had come along to the hotel and they shared how it was for each of them. Friendships began to be formed as we shared food some of the churches had given to us to eat afterwards. The entire atmosphere was one of happiness and relief. 

After Jesus sent out the 72 disciples, we read in Luke 10 that they returned praising God for what they had witness happen. As I imagine the reunion of these disciples to their Master, I see a scene very similar to the one I described above. How the disciples must have left with worries and fears, and maybe they even left in a chaotic way as well! Yet when they returned, all there excitement gushed out as they told their stories to Jesus and one another. I expect that over the course of the week, just as the disciples had powerful stories about how God had worked in changing people's hearts, our group will share stories of the same. I personally can't wait to sit back and watch Him work! 

Thanks to each of you for the prayers! Do keep us, as well as those in Mexico and Colombia, in your prayers each day as we work with God to touch people's hearts. Only He knows how to reach each and every one of them.

#TheStruggleIsReal

An alarm clock failing to work, a computer screen that goes blank whenever the presenter mode is closed, communication issues with the location of preachers and the language they will be preaching in, sicknesses that seem to be about ready to surface...just a sampling of some of the extremely minor (and a few major) issues that have surround this trip.

There must be an official law in some mission handbook that says, “When on a mission trip, what can go wrong will go wrong.” Little problems and major issues always seem to pop up when you’re traveled to a foreign country to participate in ministry. In a way, it’s a joke. In reality, it's completely serious.

"For our wrestling is not against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world-rules of this darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places."                          Ephesians 6:12

The work we are about to take part in is an issue of life and death, and Satan knows this full well. There is no way he will give up his dominion without a struggle. The area of Brasil that we are in is one of the strongest in voodoo worship and local superstition. Who knows what Satan might throw at us these coming weeks, but the wonderful thought is that God is stronger than the "ruler" of this world. Jesus Himself has the power and strength that no one in heaven or on earth can overcome.

Keep the entire group in your prayers as tonight we begin the many evangelistic series' in Brasil Colombia, and Mexico. Precious souls are at stake.

So Long, Farewell...

I don’t like goodbyes.

No, I really don’t like goodbyes!

They’re hard, sometimes tearful, and always have an element of the unknown. When will I see this person again? We say, “I’ll see you later”, but so much can happen between goodbye and hello. You never know when your goodbye may last forever.

Freshman year of college has come and gone, and as I sit here I wonder how any future semester can compare. The friendships I’ve made and renewed have been such a blessing from God. Class assignments have taught me more about who I am and what God wants me to be. But as they say, all good things must come to an end and so at 2:37 pm yesterday, my freshman year officially came to an end.

Tuesday was the beginning of goodbyes and yesterday those farewells continued. There’s such comfort in knowing you’ll see your friends next semester, yet that’s not the case as I try to decide in these next few days where I will be attending school in the fall. The unknown makes these past few goodbyes extra hard.

I try to imagine a world without goodbyes, and in truth I can’t even begin to imagine what such a world would be like! To think that the world God intended for us to live in didn’t include separation is almost beyond comprehension because this is all we’ve ever known. Having this perfect world snatched away by Satan’s lies must have been harder than any goodbye I’ve said over the past few days because the lives of the inhabitants of this tiny speck we call earth were at stake. How God must long for that day when He comes to claim us for His own.

I’m already imagining the reunions that will take place next August. I can hear exclamations of “I’ve missed you so much” and feel the embraces from friends reunited again. And in my earthly, simple mind, I can begin to imagine what the reunion of the children of God with their saving King will look like. Oh, what a day that will be!

But until that day, we continue to say goodbyes and thankfully quite a few hellos as well! Lots of each await me in Brazil and Michigan this summer which is why I’m inviting you to keep reading this blog. I can’t promise anything witty or profound, but I hope that you will be able to enjoy the continuing journey of a young woman as she seeks after her soon returning Father.

Until then my dear friend! (Nope, I’m not letting this count as a goodbye!)