One Word (?) and the Unexpected

From December 1 - 25, 2015 I've been a part of a writing project called 25 Days for Peace. It was set up by a person I barely knew and I decided ok lets plunge. I did it. I wrote or contributed something those past 25 days. I used to be (and still am) a person who will start something and then let it go. This though IS something other.

For the past year and a half I have been under construction. It's been a tearing down of sorts. Nicaragua is still my heart. And since then many, many wild things has happened. Many too many in fact. But isn't that the way God works. He works in the small ordinary ways to the big, blazing in the sky ways.

Instead of doing a resolution this year I am picking a word. I did it last year and was intentional in the fact that I was aware of the word and looking back I can see how the word has been used. I did not actively pursue it but it became a choice. The word was love. This last year has been one of love. Not the fuzzy, comforting kind but the kind that dares you to give more than you have and to connect with people. As a confessed introvert and fear of attachment girl was a challenge. Yet. When I chose loving, connecting...risking it was a pleasant surprise. I prayed for God to show me love. I did not announce it to anyone because I would (in my head) be considered crazy. This year though for 2016 the word is *voice*. I have considered others...bravery, freedom, risking but what I keep coming back to is voice. I've not written Nicaragua Calling for a year and a half because I lacked confidence in the said voice. But...after the 25 day challenge I found it returning. Risking. Last night I posted something on Facebook about spiritual abuse. I was scared to say anything about the topic because of my past. Instead though I knew I had to put my heart out there. So I did it.


I have 3 entries from 2014 that I did not publish. I know why. I was afraid. Afraid to risk. Afraid to speak. Afraid to voice. Today? I will speak, I will risk, I will voice. God is like that. Healing...risking, loving. I read Psalm 4 this morning. He is the Glory and the Lifter of my head...giving me the wonderful gift of using my voice.

He will cover

Wings. Birds. Life from death.

trembling naked
me a child
hurting pain
that was hidden in the inner
part

Wings, Birds. His life for my death.

heal me
from this ugly
that mutes my voice
deadens my
soul

Wings, Birds. His life for my life.

hindsight blinded
into an early
coma that was
not my choice
until

Wings, Birds. His life for my breath. His life for my voice.

Trust and the Hawk

How do I even begin to tell of the trust? The trust that was conditional as long as all went well. I could believe You for the past two years and the future...but the past? That is where I want to cross my arms, shake my head and say no. Then this song shows up in my life on a day where I can listen to it over and over again and not be distracted?! It even says specifically trust with out borders....I want to kick and scream and say NOOOOOO. But the beckoning of the promise that YOU are there...in the vulnerability. So God, here I am. The deep waters are roaring. The mission life calling. And the past looming. I give YOU my hand...lead me to that place what ever it looks like. I will hold on to YOU. I choose too. And if the grip should falter because of my doubt I know that You hold me closer still. And God thank you for the hawk...

Sometimes...I doubt

Sometimes I fear. I lie awake at night trying to hammer out what God has planned for us to do. I toss, I turn. This is where my faith gets hammered out. To trust a Big God with my little faith. I still sit back in amazement at where we are heading with this... For example: it takes months to years to own land in Nicaragua. Well in our feeble, stumbling case it took 2 weeks. And I question. Yes I have the audacity to question this God who moves. The friends in Poneloya took time out of their lives to help us. They want us down there. They have called us family. Back to my missionless heart...yesterday I battled the doubt. I battled the longing. I battled the unknown. And in the midst of the battle God gave more confirmation though a 3rd party that He sees and knows. I shared with my community group my doubts. I was ashamed to say what they were. No one looked on me like I was less than...And they prayed for us. It will be two years since like the prodigal I came home. Easter Sunday. Where I laid it back down for the final time. And since then it has been a whirlwind of blessings. A time of profound healing...A time of profound doubt. In the midst of the calling He has been faithful. With scripture, with song, with my heart's cry to Him. After a pretty much sleepless night on my way to work Bruce shares a song with me that comes over the radio.. He comments this is song where I raise my hand when I drive and people think I am crazy because of... So I listened and wept. The longing of my heart for the vision and longing of God in my life...

Waiting

Bruce went back to Nica for 10 days a few weeks ago. I had no way of going. It pained me beyond what has been the norm. I was angry. It was a slow week.  And I stewed in self pity. It was the only way I thought to survive. I prayed for him and the team and did my usual worry and duties around the home.

This winter has been one for the records. .between snow and cold the tropics are yelling my name...loud.

It was mid week and we were hunkered down for yet another snow storm. The pantry was full to over flowing. My family safe and warm.

Then there was a knock at the door. We had befriend two preteen girls down the street. And it was the youngest. She had a box in hand asking if I would buy these items so that her mom and sister could eat.

It stopped me short. These kind of things don't happen in America. In my head I am questioning do they have food stamps? Do they have welfare? Are they playing me the fool?

About 3 months ago a lady came to our door asking for bus fare and I turned her away because I doubted her story. It has haunted me since...

I tell A. To hold on I have no money but have food. I tell her if she needs money come back tomorrow and I will buy the goods.

I loaded up the bag with some items and hand them back to her she is grateful and leaves to go home.

I watch her skinny frame dissappear into the snow storm and then I understood.  My calling is here for the time being at home. My healing comes in the doubts, the fears and stumblings.

If someone else comes to the door again I will make sure I have bus fare ready...

Who Me?

In December I had a serious 4 day trip to Nicaragua. To qualify this Bruce has been going down for over 10 years. I at the time did not feel the urge to go but at the same time felt a pang. A hunger to do the same.

But, and this is a big confession, I walked away in 2001. I walked away from God, the Church, from every thing that I thought was true. And I ran. I ran into buddhism, the tao and essentially hedonism. It was about me. God had not delivered my dreams and desires.

During the 90's I was a good girl. I read my bible. I did the bible studies. Was a stay at home mom. In reality I was dying inside and I did not know why. I thought that if I could just love God more, be the perfect wife be what ever it was every one else was doing I would be ok. But it wasn't so. I was hurting. Dealing with a past that haunted me to the point that I needed drugs and alcohol to function properly in public. People scared me.

My first marriage fell apart. The covenant that I had made with God I had broken and I thought that I- yes I was beyond all hope. So I walked away.

During the 10 years of wandering I would dream. Dream of church, dream of worship. To few of my christian friends I mouthed that I believed but my behaviour and heart told me otherwise. The happiest times in my life during the 10 year wandering was 1. getting sober 2. literally dreaming of worship at night.

During the 10 year stint Bruce and I got married. We mouthed God but did not live it. Our marriage was falling apart too.

Two years ago I started going to intensive therapy to deal with deep wounds. I thought initially that I was going to save Bruce and my marriage. In reality it was the deep cleansing of a shattered soul.

On Easter of 2012 I walked into church again (that tale is for another blog). Suffice it to say I was on my knees that night giving all back to the Lord. My husband joined me at church the next weekend and we came home for good to God.

During this journey from when I was 18 and first *saved* I had a desire to do missions work. Family told me no. Of late last year I knew that I wasn't ready....yet. Then December of 2013 I went for 4 days. I came back changed. I lived 2 years in those 4 days. Had my heart and soul rearranged in such a way that Nicarauga and the people there consume my heart and soul. Remember how I was scared (and still am at times) of people? That was gone when I was there.

So I question at times...who me? God, you know my messy past..God you know my heart...and He so lovingly answers back in the stillness of here and now...Yes YOU..