I woke up this morning thinking about Cite Soleil. I learned about this city when I was 16 and on my way to Haiti for the first time. I was told that it was so dangerous that there were very few missionaries serving there. I thought, "but isn't that the sort of place missionaries ought to minister to?" But what did I know as a wide-eyed 16 year old? A few years later I expressed my desire to serve in a place like Cite Soleil and I was met with incredulous looks, attitudes of dismay and concern, and blatant opposition. In all fairness, I was an unequipped 18 year old girl, but I wasn't suggesting going right that second. Still, I thought, "who will go then?" Six years after I learned about Cite Soleil, it still is on my heart. This morning I learned more about what Heartline Ministries is doing in Cite Soleil and I'm excited to see how God crafts this ministry. Today I'm praying for all of Haiti, but especially Cite Soleil, and Heartline Ministries. Will you?
My generation has gone soft in many ways. Some of that softening is good, but not all of it. One way I believe we've "gone soft" compared to past generations is the whole idea of intent. We are tolerant of misguided actions as long as there were "good intentions." I'm here to say that intention doesn't mean squat if there isn't action behind it. And I'm willing to bet there is some controversy with that statement. First of all, I believe that we will be judged (and given grace) based off both the condition of our hearts and our actions. Ultimately, that is the Lord God's job, but we humans do it to each other as well as some form of "justice regulation." Secondly, from a sociological/psychological standpoint it's utterly fascinating to delve into the reasons behind our actions and can provide much insight to the human soul. However, with those aspects aside, I firmly agree with the age old cliche "actions speak louder than words."
When I lived in Haiti, there was no cook early Sunday morning and it was Angela's(house manager of the orphanage) job to feed the children breakfast. She got up early every morning to prepare food for thirty hungry kids. I had agreed to help. Most days I would, at best, wake up just as she was finishing the preparation and would help pass out the food. I didn't intentionally lie in bed and choose to not go help her. I didn't not get up out of spite. I wanted to help and felt bad when I dropped the ball. I didn't intentionally not keep my word, but I also was not intentional about getting up. I did not proactively make sure I had an alarm set or someone to wake me. I didn't go to bed early knowing that I was going to have to get up early. I didn't intentionally NOT help her, but I also didn't intentionally help.
While intention doesn't stand up to action in it's effectiveness, they can be a powerful combination. At the Rocknasium (an indoor rock climbing gym), there was a route I'd been trying. The very first maneuver required me to grab a rock from a near sitting position that was just out of my reach. Over and over again I'd let go of the first rock to reach the upper one and fall flat on my back. People were encouraging me and I was getting frustrated with my failure, a concoction to be reckoned with. Finally, with determination in my eyes, I lunged with every muscle in my body and grabbed onto that rock. A girl who'd be standing with us said "Yes! You did it... with conviction this time!" My focus was fixed and I was able to do what I'd set out to do because of the intent behind my action.
Those two examples are small things. Rock climbing isn't important and children got fed whether I stayed in bed all day or not. But it makes me wonder about the collective force of action with intention. We may not be intentionally ignoring the thousands of people living in modern-day slavery, those without access to clean drinking water, victims of abuse and rape, those without homes, food, or medical attention, those who've never been free to read or write, or those without a voice... but if we are not intentionally doing something about it, what are we doing? I want to be an intentional, convicted servant with the strength, grace, and vision of God propelling me. And if I can pull that off, I'd be a little powerhouse for real change and a real demonstration of Love. Imagine what it'd be like if we all did the same...
I believe in red lipstick and a good stiletto. I believe in flower power and surrounding ones self with beautiful things. I believe in diamonds and lace. I believe that a good outfit can transform you. I believe in the man making the first move. I love classic movies, painted nails, and going to the opera or ballet. I love art, poetry, music, and fashion. I believe that adventure is romance in it's best form.
I've always been a little bit old fashioned at heart, but I rarely admitted it. I always thought that a pretty dress is a sign of weakness and that no woman could get anything substantial done in heels. I thought that softness was weakness and beauty was shallow. I thought that if I looked pretty, people would ignore my intelligence, my strength, and my drive. I'm learning that this is not necessarily true and sometimes is quite the opposite... and loving every minute of it.
"Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this," says the LORD Almighty, "and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it." Malachi 3:10
According to wordnetweb.princeton.edu, a floodgate is "something that restrains a flood or outpouring." To find the force of the outpour, one must multiply pressure times area. In Malachi, the Lord says that He will throw open the floodgates of heaven. Even if the pressure behind the floodgate of heaven equals just 1 pascal, the area (length times height) of heaven is immeasurable. The area of heaven multiplied by just one is still too big for my mind to fathom. And since the Lord says there will be so much blessing that we will not have room for it, I'm thinking the pressure is more than one.
But the Lord prefaces this promise with a command: "bring the whole tithe." He is commanding us to bring just a portion (10%) of what he's given us. This tithe is just the bare minimum of our giving and yet he tells us to test him and promises to give immeasurable blessing. I started a new job in September and got my first paycheck in October. I have been faithfully tithing 10% of my income, including tips and babysitting money. Pastor Dave preached on God's perspective of wealth and mentioned something called "kingdom investments." These kingdom investments are offerings we give that our beyond our tithe.
I realized that while I'd been faithful in tithing, I was doing the bare minimum. I was positioning myself in a low place, but could do better. By investing in the kingdom, one also positions himself for blessing. And since this is the only time (that I know of) that the Lord says to test Him, I'm pretty sure he's serious about it. I prayed about a certain organization that was on my heart and specifically how much to give. Sixty dollars was the answer. I gave $60 and felt totally excited about it and started praying where I could give next and in what capacity. Less than a week later, I opened my mail to find an unexpected check for $120.24 from my last job, a little more than double of what I gave. I almost starting crying when I thought about the story of the ten talents (Matthew 25:14-28) and how the master said "well done, my good and faithful servant". I realize that $120 is not something to really cry over, but it wasn't the money. My God kept His promise in a very tangible way. The best part was that I wasn't expecting my blessing to be monetary. I didn't give to get. My perspective on wealth is kingdom oriented and I am content with being obedient and my reward storing up in heaven. However, it was really encouraging to have a tangible example of the blessings of the Lord. Where and how are you investing? How are you positioning yourself for blessing?
We were the most unlikely friends. I played sports; she did baton twirling. I had the tact of a bull in a china shop; she got her feelings hurt easily. I was loud, bossy, and rambunctious. She was quiet, easy-going, and even-keeled. My room was a mess; hers was always clean. I was ten when I met seven-and-a-half-year-old Jordan. We moved in across the street from her house. I was convinced that I could fly and couldn't understand why I couldn't teach Jordan how to do the same. We spent hours jumping off her bed. She watched me with wide brown eyes as I tried to explain how I'd done it before. I built a tree fort and she painted a pretty "welcome" sign. I laughed at the lady who told us she was going to call the cops if we didn't stop trespassing; she whispered "we should go." The only thing Jordan and I had in common was a need for a friend. Both of our families were kind of messed up at the time and our friendship was like a shelter in the storm. I made her laugh. She made me feel special. She listened and took my side when I was mad. I hugged her when she cried. I was mean to her occasionally, but she always forgave me. She would make me mad, but always made it up to me. I moved away when I was fifteen and didn't see her again until this summer. It took me eleven years to realize what I'd learned from Jordan. Jordan is sensitive and kind and thoughtful. I often mistook her gentleness for weakness, but I've realized how wrong I was. She taught me to be careful with my words and how much a little kindness can really go. As a young girl, she taught me that feminine qualities are not something to hide or give away, but something to be shared with those whom you love, yet special enough to keep protected. She taught me that being sensitive is OK. When I wanted to tromp through the garden to get to the woods, she was the one reminding me to watch my step. Her physical beauty is apparent to any passerby, but it takes getting close to her to smell the real sweetness of her character.
I know it's a day late, but happy birthday Jordy-Jo! Thank for being an amazing friend and teacher.
I feel like an ice berg lately: a lot is going on inside that I'm unable to express. I have a hard time communicating all the stuff that's going on in my head and heart before I've sorted it out myself. There are changes happening my life and this period of time has lead to a kind of quietness. There are, however, a few simple conclusions I've come to:
Surrender is a process. Everyday, every situation, every attitude, I find it necessary to surrender to Him.
Purity is also a process. Like other things, I'm hoping it gets easier with practice. Everything from my manner of speech to how I guard my heart so desperately needs to be brought into the light. This is painful and like a cockroach, my sin scurries away from the light and runs for cover. I must be real and intimate with the Lord and let him into all areas of my heart.
Part of this quietness has come from a period of being broken. My version of humility has been the realization that I'm a fool.
I have wonderful, Spirit-filled, God-fearing friends that inspire, encourage, and challenge me. I'm forever thankful for them.
Perhaps soon I'll be able to express what's going on inside. It's such a freeing feeling to be able to organize thoughts, share feelings, and breathe truth. But for now, I welcome the process.
