In His Hands…

Two years.

Two long years ago I found out that my baby no longer had a heartbeat.

Two years later my arms still ache for the child they were meant to hold.

Two years later and time, the supposed healer, taunts me: “Where is your God? Why has he left you in your suffering? He has abandoned you. ” And sometimes, some days, I believe it.  But God, in his infinite mercy and love, speaks… often when we least expect it.

A few weeks ago, I had the privilege of helping lead worship at our church on Sunday morning. We came to the end of the service and realized that we had forgotten to pass out the offering buckets. Having already sung all of the songs that we had planned for the service,  the worship leader asked the congregation if anyone had a request. Someone shouted out “He’s Got the Whole World In His Hands” as a joke, but Ying began strumming and before we knew it the entire congregation was  belting out “He’s got the whole world in His hands…” and then we came to verse two, “He’s got the itty bitty babies in his hands…” and I burst into tears.

Of all the songs we sang that day God used a simple kids song to remind me of his love and care for Jesse and for me.  Two years later and God still has us both in his capable and loving hands.

“Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
Yahweh is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the whole earth.
He never grows faint or weary;
there is no limit to His understanding.

He gives strength to the weary
and strengthens the powerless.
Youths may faint and grow weary,
and young men stumble and fall,
but those who trust in the LORD will renew their strength;
they will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary;
they will walk and not faint.”

~ Isaiah 40:31

 

Tidings of Comfort and Joy

This Christmas season the chorus “O tidings of comfort and joy” from the popular carol “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” has been at the forefront of my thoughts. I’ve never thought twice about these words until this year when they pierced deep, speaking straight to my heart. I need comfort and I’m longing for joy.  Christmas brings us back to the source of both comfort and joy, Jesus Himself.

We bring our sorrows and brokenness to Jesus – the incarnate one, God made flesh, he who knew no sin but became sin for us, who was tempted as we are and suffered as we do… we cry out to the One who is all-knowing and all-powerful and all-good and we find comfort. God came. He doesn’t leave us alone in our suffering and despair but dwells with us and in us and reveals Himself all around us. His presence is our peace.

And in the midst of our sorrow wrapped in His comfort we are surprised by the seed of joy. Joy in giving and in spending time with loved ones. Joy in beauty and in rest. Joy in the comfort God provides.  No, everything is not fixed: Jesse is still gone, I am still barren, civilians and cops are still dead, conflict rages around the globe and yet Christmas says, God is here. Yes, this is news of great comfort and joy! God has entered our mess. He cries with us, He holds us, and He says “Soon I will make all things right.”

No matter what heartache you bring to this Christmas season, may the tidings of Christ’s birth bring both comfort and joy. Emmanuel, God is with us.

 

Farewell Four Waters: A Book Recommendation

Looking for a book to slowly peruse over the holidays??

Don’t get this one! I devoured it in just three short days and long nights…

Looking for a light-hearted feel good story full of unicorns and rainbows??

Stay away! This book will plunge you deep into the realities of life as a believer in Afghanistan and leave you hungry for more of Jesus and pondering the privilege and cost of following Him…

Farewell, Four Waters is a novel based on the true story of the author’s escape from a kidnapping plot in Afghanistan. While it is a novel, it is simultaneously bursting at the seams with truth – truth about what it’s like to live as a Christian woman in a Muslim country, truth about the beauty of Afghanistan and the Afghan people, truth about living overseas and the struggle to be fully present, truth about who God is in the midst of tragedy and suffering.

This book resonated deeply with me for several reasons. First, it spoke my heart. I cried… alot. The author’s love for Afghanistan and her friends there is made evident alongside her very real fears and struggles. I know what it’s like to be harassed by a group of teenage boys while walking down the street and I know the joy of a cup of tea shared on the floor. It’s not exactly the same by any means but this book transported me home to the West Bank and put words to the loss that I’m still grappling with since leaving.

Secondly, my church growing up started supporting the author when I was a teenager and when I was 17, I felt God nudging me toward Afghanistan. I contacted her and began making plans to join her in Afghanistan for several months. I was just weeks away from buying my ticket and had already starting scoping out language books in Borders when the political situation changed and I was no longer able to go. I ended up in Africa instead, but I’ve never forgotten. In the month or so that I was preparing to go to Afghanistan the Lord cultivated in my heart a willingness to go anywhere for Him and a desire to share the Gospel with Muslims. You all know where that led me!

With that said…if you’re looking for something to add to your wish list this Christmas, or to get that hard-to-buy-for relative, or to enrich your life spiritually and otherwise, or for just a jolly good read… Farewell, Four Waters is for you!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seeking Rest in the Wilderness

I woke up somewhat abruptly a few mornings ago from a vivid dream with my heart pounding and forehead damp. It was one of those dreams where no matter how hard you try, you are unable to accomplish what you need to, but you fight it out to no avail until the bitter end (usually when you finally wake up). When running from a mortal enemy, you feel as if you’re running through waist deep molasses. When trying to throw a punch, you can hardly even lift your arm, the punch landing with all the force of a one year old. When called on to make a speech to an important crowd, it is literally impossible to open your mouth, much less speak. How utterly infuriating and terrifying at the same time!!

We laugh about these dreams  but I woke up the other day and felt the weariness in my bones, the pressure of the to-do list, the anxiety regarding the comings days, weeks and months and realized that I was striving just as much in my real life as I was in my dream world and with just as much (or rather lack of) success. The truth is I’m tired. I’m tired of the stress. I’m tired of the expectations (my own and others). I’m tired of the to-do lists. I’m tired of the fear. I’m tired of feeling like every day is a lost battle.

I need rest. And not just prop-your-feet-up-and-watch-a-movie rest. I need rest for my soul: freedom from the fear, the pressure of expectations, the feelings of failure, the to-do lists, the desire for control…freedom from all the lies that have covertly infiltrated my life and taken root in my heart. I don’t need my circumstances to change but rather my soul to find the rest that God provides in the midst of every circumstance. But how?

Here again we find the paradox of the Christian faith… where the world says “treat yourself”, Jesus says “crucify yourself.” Where the world says “do what’s best for you”, Jesus says “pick up your cross and follow me.” My knee jerk reaction is to try to gain as much control over my circumstances as I can, to get “on top” of things, but it is only in surrender that I will find freedom. It is only in obedience that I will find true rest.

And so my journey towards rest begins with confession, confession of my unbelief. This may not seem like a logical place to start but as I pray and search the Scriptures I’ve come to realize that this is the very root of my unrest. I don’t believe that God is sovereign. I don’t believe that He hears and answers prayers. I don’t believe that He is good. I don’t believe that He loves me, will guide me, gives me grace, will provide for me, __fill in the blank here__…

Of course, I profess to believe these things! But if I’m painfully honest, my life recently tells a different story and I am brought to my knees echoing the declaration of a desperate father in Mark 9:24 “I do believe! Help my unbelief.” For it is unbelief that fuels disobedience and disobedience that leads to spiritual unrest. I was reading through Hebrews when this connection became clear to me. The author is discussing the Israelites and their journey through the wilderness when he writes, “And who did He swear to that they would not enter His rest, if not those who disobeyed? So we see that they were unable to enter because of unbelief” (Hebrews 3:18-19 emphasis mine). The concepts of unbelief and disobedience are almost interchangeable here, the connection between the two of them unmistakable. Who didn’t enter the promised land, the rest that God had provided for them? Those who disobeyed. Those who grumbled and complained, who feared enemies, turned to other gods, and looked longingly at the past that God had saved them from. But why? Why did they do all of these things? Because of their unbelief. It is a lack of faith that is astonishing from afar – we cringe as we read about the people of God turning their backs on God again and again wanting to shout “Don’t you see!?! Don’t you remember?!? He just parted the sea!! He’s literally raining food down from heaven for you!! What more could you want?!?! And then the Spirit speaks and I am humbled… I see myself clearly in the wilderness: complaining, fearful, turning to idols for comfort, wanting what I don’t have and forgetting who God is and what He’s done for me. I realize that the burning sun has begun to bake my heart hard and that the warning in Hebrews 3:12 is for me…”Watch out, brothers, so that there won’t be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart that departs from the living God.” I confess my unbelief.

But confession, in and of itself, is not enough… I must surrender everything. While unbelief –> disobedience –> unrest, the converse is true, faith –> obedience –> rest. Hebrews 4:9-10 says this, “Therefore, a Sabbath rest remains for God’s people. For the person who has entered His rest has rested from his own works, just as God did from His.” The person who has entered God’s rest has stopped striving in his own strength toward his own ends. In order to enter God’s rest I must die to myself, it is the only way. This (surrender and obedience) is the yoke of Jesus that He speaks about in Matthew 11:28-30, “Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. All of you, take up My yoke and learn from Me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for yourselves. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Jesus, in his life of perfect submission and obedience to God even to death on a cross, calls us to learn from Him and receive the rest that only He can offer through his life and death. He laid down his life to give us peace with God and calls us to find rest in the very same way, laying down our very lives. My heart becomes malleable once again as surrender it to the one to whom it belongs.

But how is this yoke of death to self easy and light?!?! Back in Hebrews 4 I think we see the content of the rest that Jesus offers fleshed out more fully. Our rest is based in the fact that God sees and knows everything about us, all of our sins, failures, hopes and dreams, griefs and joys (Heb. 4:12-13) and still, through the work of Jesus who has gone before us (Heb 4:14-16), loves us and gives us Himself. Rest is found, not in the absence of hardship but in the presence of God where we can stand unashamed, without guilt or fear, and find comfort, joy and hope.

I wish that I could say that the struggle and the striving is over, that I am at perfect peace. Instead I’m learning, learning to be quicker to confess, to relinquish my desires, to abandon my guilt and fear. I’m learning to be more like Jesus, laying down the heavy yoke I keep picking up again and again to exchange it for a simple faith, for obedience and grace, for mercy and hope.

He Will Come and Rescue Me

Eight months ago today I was brimming with hope and excitement for this, my due date. Since everyone knows the chances of a baby actually being born exactly on their due date are miniscule, I envisioned myself on this very day either cradling a newborn or looking ready to pop with a hospital bag ready to go at a moment’s notice.

Six months ago today I was in the throes of contractions, my hopes and dreams for our child dashed to pieces. I envisioned this day and knew that it would probably be difficult. I anticipated that it would re-open wounds and possibly bring a fresh wave of grief but the truth is, it’s a wound that is still gaping. I’m still riding the original grief-wave. Evidently God doesn’t heal on our terms or in our timing. And so I have to take it one day at a time, unable to envision where I’ll be in one week, month, or year but trusting that God is, in fact, my healer.

Today my arms ache to hold Jesse. Today the sadness is ever-present. Today I choose again to believe that God keeps His promises. Today I choose to believe that joy will come in the morning.  Today I wish I had all the perfect profound words to communicate everything that I’m thinking and feeling but I just don’t. So I leave you with the lyrics to a song written by Jenny & Tyler based on Psalm 46:

The LORD is my refuge and strength
Therefore I will not be afraid
Though the mountains give way
And fall into the sea
He will come and rescue me

 The LORD comes to me at break of day
He reaches down to guide me in His ways
Though the oceans roar
In this dark and stormy sea
He will come and rescue me

Hallelujah, He is with me
Hallelujah, we cannot be moved
Hallelujah, He is with me
Hallelujah, I rest secure

 Be still and know that He is God
He will be exalted over all
Come and behold His strength and majesty
Yet He will come and rescue me

Hallelujah, He is with me
Hallelujah, we cannot be moved
Hallelujah, He is with me
Hallelujah, I rest secure

Yes, He will come and rescue me…

 

Crucifying My Impatience

I am not a very patient person. Period. Transition has a way of shaking things up, bringing the dirt that’s settled comfortably in the bottom of my heart to the surface. This time around the dirt that has surfaced is this: my impatience. Let me tell you, it’s ugly. I’m like the two year old kicking and screaming on the floor of the grocery store… I haven’t outgrown my impatience, I’ve just learned to throw tantrums in a more socially acceptable adult manner.

I want my ancient computer to stop arbitrarily erasing my sentences immediately after I write them and start running faster, now.

I want the perfect apartment in the perfect neighborhood lined up for us to move into, now.

I want answers to some of my medical difficulties and relief from the pain, now.

I want that second pink line to show up on the pregnancy test, as of yesterday.

I want my husband, as wonderful as he is, to be fully sanctified, now (being officially done with his Master’s Degree would be nice too…)

I want to stop being so incredibly impatient, now!

And those are just a few of the “big” items not including everyday things like traffic (it really is possible to make a turn faster than 2mph safely folks), grocery store lines (30 items in the 10 items or less express checkout…really people?), and being put on hold for what feels like days while being simultaneously tortured by static-y pop music (moving back to the States requires a lot of conversations with insurance companies). The list could go on and on and on and on right?

Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I am just now becoming impatient but rather that God is revealing the true nature of my sin and calling me to something better – life in the Spirit. We tend to categorize sin, consciously or not, into different levels of seriousness. There are the top tier sins like murder and adultery, the second tier you-should-try-not-to-do-this-but-it’s-not-a-huge-deal sins like greed and gossip, and then there are those sins that are so far down the list that they’re hardly even viewed as sin like….wait for it…impatience. Because, let’s be real, isn’t everyone impatient? Is it even possible to live in another way? Is my impatience really affecting anyone else?? Hmmm…

God, in His mercy, is using this time of transition where much patience is required, to revamp my thinking and root out this sin in my life. I was listening to a sermon a few weeks ago when the pastor mentioned the fruit of the Spirit. I started thinking about each of the attributes individually when it hit me like a ton of bricks: If patience is a fruit of the Spirit (which it is…) then impatience must be a fruit of the flesh.  (If you’re saying “duh” right now in your head, bear with me I’m a little slow sometimes). I suddenly saw my impatience as more than just an annoying trait I needed to “work on”…it’s sin. When I’m being impatient I’m living according to my flesh and not according to the Spirit of God.

Why is impatience so serious? Because it’s a symptom of deeper things. When we pull back the curtain of impatience we find, among other things, an unwillingness to trust God and idolatry of self. I am the most important person in my impatient world. Impatience reveals a heart that is discontent and leads to “works of the flesh” such as but not in any way limited to sexual immorality, idolatry, hatreds, outbursts of anger, etc… (Galatians 5:19-20). I would challenge you this week to stop when you feel yourself becoming impatient and ask yourself what is driving that impatience….selfishness? greed? fear of other’s opinions? anxiety? pride? If these are the types of things lying under the surface of impatience then clearly it’s a bigger deal than we think.

The truth is, life requires a whole lot of waiting and we have a choice about how we are going to deal with it. We can allow the flesh free reign in this area of our lives or our lives can be characterized by patience. But how do we get patience? We ask God for it. It is impossible to manufacture on our own but instead is evidence of the Holy Spirit at work in our lives. A “fruit” of the Spirit if you will…

I don’t know about you but I think I’ve known the fruit of the Spirit from the womb… at least I can’t think back to a time when I couldn’t rattle them off at a moments notice. Sunday school walls are decorated with cut-outs of apples and pears with “love” and “joy” written on them. Galatians 5:22-23 is on the top of every Bible verse memory list and framed in countless bathrooms and hallways. But at some point in the last twenty years of my life the fruit of the Spirit became:

“LOVE
Joy
peace
patienakdjhflkjshf…”

Sure, things like patience, gentleness, and self-control are important but only after I’ve mastered love and joy and peace, you know, the really important ones. Let’s take a step back and think about that for a moment though. Yes, the greatest commandment according to Jesus is this, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind’… And the second is like it, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself'” (Matthew 22:36-40). Clearly love is of the utmost importance. It is central to the Christian faith. But what is love? “Love is patient…” (1 Corinthians 13:4). It seems that patience and love cannot be so easily segregated…What about joy? When is the last time you felt impatient and joyful simultaneously?? I thought so… And peace? Impatience could almost be fully defined as a lack of peace…unrest caused by a desire for things to be different than they are in this very moment.

We cannot rank some attributes as more or less important than others because in reality all of these (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faith, gentleness, and self-control) are intricately connected…it’s a package deal. I can’t have love and peace without patience and I can’t have patience without faith and self-control… It’s all or nothing. The Spirit or the Flesh.

“Now those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, we must also follow the Spirit.” (Galatians 5:24-25)

The bottom line is this. When we live our lives in impatience we look no different from the world around us. We lack the love, joy, and peace that is God in us. Conversely, when we exhibit patience in every area of our lives we are being like Jesus. We “shine like stars in the world” where impatience is the norm and patience is nothing less than supernatural (Phil. 2:15).

For me, impatience is no longer being swept under the rug, it’s proper place is nailed to the cross.

 

The Shadow Proves The Sunshine

In my last post, I described the weight of the emptiness I’ve been feeling in the midst of this transition and my desire to desire God above all else right now. While it has, in fact, been a very difficult few months I must say publicly that one of the reasons I feel so empty is because my life has been so very full.

In the midst of a trial much greater than mine I am sure (running from an army in the Judean wilderness perhaps?), David penned these words: “I will sing to the LORD because He has treated me generously” (Psalm 13:6). In my situation these words seem nothing less than a gross understatement – He has treated me generously! Everything I have lost has only served to highlight all that He has given and is giving and will give.

He gave us so many people to walk with us through our time in the West Bank…people that challenged us, cheered us on, comforted us, and ultimately loved us way beyond our “lovability”. He gave us a baby to love and to care for and cherish for three whole months. He gave us everything we physically needed and more. He gave us purpose and hope and joy. He gave us Himself.

He is giving us each other, healthy bodies and healthy food, a place to stay and vehicles to drive. He is giving us freedom to worship Him without fear and peace in our country. He is giving us challenge, and growth. He is giving us Himself.

He will give… this is where my heart has camped out these past few weeks, meditating on all the ways everything we have lost will be restored beyond our imagination in eternity:

Family and friends, reunited and living together in perfect transparency, joy, and love.

Peace, internal and external. True and lasting.

Joy, no longer momentary.

Himself. Fully forever. “Look! God’s dwelling is with humanity, and He will live with them. They will be His people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God.” (Revelation 21:3)

It is this hope in what He has promised to give that keeps the fleeting nature of joy from launching us into despair. Ultimately all of the joy that we experience in this life is purely a gift from God and a mere taste of the feast to come. I am so thankful for the countless tastes of the coming kingdom that our generous God has given me.

 

**The title of this post is taken from an old Switchfoot song. Look it up, it’s a good one.

The Weight of Emptiness

“It’s been a whirlwind…”

This is the somewhat cliche metaphor I’ve turned to for the last month in response to questions about our life, especially those that needed to be answered in about thirty seconds or less.

A whirlwind.

A tornado.

An unpredictable, uncontrollable, swirling mass of debris.

Beginning about four months ago, the pieces of my “home” have slowly been dismantled and strewn all over heaven and earth. Our baby Jesse was there one minute and gone the next. My classroom full of students I loved and did life with was abruptly empty as summer descended. One by one I said goodbye to my friends and hugged their children extra tight. I watched one last sunset from our balcony and shut the door to our physical home. I was with my family in New Jersey long enough to know everything I’m missing by leaving again. All too soon we packed up a U-Haul trailer with all of our earthly belongings and my parents drove me to my in-laws in Tennessee to meet my husband for the drive to Texas. As if the Lord wanted to give me a tangible picture of what I’d been feeling, he sent a real tornado through my in-law’s backyard just hours before we arrived!

The metaphorical whirlwind dropped us off in Texas a little over a week ago. I took a moment to look around and found that I was not in the West Bank anymore….

My family and friends are strewn all over the States and the World: New Jersey, Colorado, Illinois, Israel, Turkey, Honduras…everywhere but here.

We are living in temporary housing, unsure of our next move.

Texas is BIG and I feel small.

And so begins the silence, the eerie quiet after the storm. The time to process what has happened and anticipate what is to come.

It is only now that I realize I am gutted.  The full weight of the emptiness crushes me. I struggle to bear up under this burden and I hear the voice of God through Scripture again and again, “Do you trust Me? Do you trust Me that I am enough? Do you trust Me enough to receive the emptiness as a gift? Do you trust Me to fill you again?”

David writes in Psalm 27:4  I have asked one thing from the LORD; it is what I desire: to dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, gazing on the beauty of the LORD and seeking Him in His temple.

I believe that God designed us to grieve, that it’s good and healthy to feel the weight of loss. I also believe that in the midst of loss He is enough. I want to want Him above all else and I believe that’s a prayer He will answer. In the meantime I am lifted up by the words of David that close the Psalm (27:13-14)  I am certain that I will see the LORD’S goodness in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and courageous, wait for the LORD.

 

 

How do we respond to the news?

Smoke hangs heavy in the air. Security tightens as riots erupt to the tune of vengeance. Hatred spews like sewage from every nook and cranny of this land and my heart is heavy. I wonder when it will stop, when the bloodshed will be enough, and I wonder how to pray.

My heart finds guidance in the words of Jesus:

You should pray like this:
Our Father in heaven,
Your name be honored as holy.
Your kingdom come.
Your will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And do not bring us into temptation,
but deliver us from the evil one.
(Matthew 6:9-13)

Abba. Father.
You love every Arab and every Israeli as your child.
I pray that you would act as a father to every individual involved in this conflict:
comfort, protect, and chastise.
Father, I thank you that you are in heaven,
that as out of control as this situation seems to be, you are on your throne.
You see what goes on behind closed doors of H*mas homes and are present in the Israeli cabinet meetings.
You see with complete clarity the past and are not blind to the future.
Thank you for your constant care in our present.

Father, in the midst of what is so often called the “Holy Land” may your name be honored as holy.
God, in the midst of cries for revenge and blood, may your name resonate on our lips.
As the call to prayer echoes and the shofar blows, hallowed be your name.

Here, in this land, while mere humans kill to set up their own kingdoms,
let your kingdom come.
Here, in this land, where it seems so often that the kingdom of darkness rules,
let your kingdom come.
In a time when propaganda and fear and hatred are spreading like wildfire,
let your kingdom spread faster.

And as Jesus prayed in the garden, not my will but Yours be done.
I honestly don’t understand how you can let these things happen.
Children are kidnapped and murdered, tortured and run over,
innocent bystanders are trampled to death,
homes are ransacked and destroyed…Why don’t you intervene?!
But then I remember the cross.
The cross was your will.
The cross was in your plan.
The cross is my salvation.
Surely, your will is too wonderful, too high, too much for me to comprehend.
Father, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. I trust you.

I know you see the suffering, you know each daily need.
I pray that you would meet those needs,
for food and shelter, work and protection.
I pray for all the families that are reeling from loss:
for comfort and rest, for hope found through you,
for strength to face another day.

And Father, forgive me.
Forgive me for the anger that I have felt at times toward both sides,
for the times that I have thought that someone was beyond your reach
and the walls that have been built up in my heart keeping me from love.
May your forgiveness flow freely in this land.
I choose to forgive the kidnappers, the murderers, the rioters…
may my heart not grow hardened toward the people here.
I pray that the escalating spiral of revenge would be severed by radical forgiveness.
Forgiveness, which can only be accomplished in your name and with your power.
You are the only one who can bring about true justice and peace and wholeness.

It seems that this land is currently in the clutches of the evil one.
We see his handiwork all around us –
death and deceit
chaos and confusion
hatred and hurt.
Deliver us! You are our only hope.
In this place, may your name be honored as holy, your kingdom come, and your will be done all as it is in heaven.

Amen

Is This Really My Life?

“Is this really my life?”

This question usually pops into my head several times a week in all different situations and the answer is always, “Yes, yes it is.” And then I smile and thank God for the crazy journey He’s brought us on (and every once in a while grit my teeth and wait for the day when my feet are firmly back on American soil). Recently I’ve asked “Is this really my life?”…

…when two students gave their final speeches in English class back to back, one on Corrie Ten Boom, one on Yasser Arafat, both positive.

…when I found myself at the graduation bash dancing with the life of the party – a 75 year old mslm grandma. She had moves ya’ll!

…when I shared the road with a herd of sheep…and a goat…and a galloping horse…and a mule…and the “Juice King” in a funny outfit pushing his cart (full of juice!).

…when a mslm student practiced her henna skills on my shoulder while we talked about life.

…when I sang about the love of Jesus at the top of my lungs while doing silly hand motions with 300+ kids. (Side Note: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your prayers – VBS was amazing! We had a great, but exhausting, week. I know why I teach high school. To all you elementary school teachers out there…God bless you! I spent most of the week with the third grade class and particularly enjoyed “leading” alongside several of my 8th and 9th grade students. I was so proud of them for giving of their time to serve and loved bonding with them over the “difficult” students and silly songs and games. Overall, I truly believe that many lives (young and old) were influenced that week for Christ. I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to be involved and I have a much greater appreciation for all those who made VBS a possibility for me as a kid 🙂 Thank You!)

…when a group of Arab women in fancy dresses and heels all start dancing the bunny hop at a bridal shower (followed later by a song in Arabic about SpongeyBob…no I didn’t misspell it!)

…when I finally made it into the Old City of Jerusalem to do some shopping and all the shops were closed due to a strike.

…when I discussed upcoming Ramadan, in Arabic, over pita and hummus at a dear friends house having just put all four of her children to sleep together. We are so different and yet I love her so much.

…when I found myself doing zumba fitness with a student and his family.

Yes, this is my life, the life that God has given me right now. And as much as it sometimes drives me crazy I am going to miss it. I am so thankful for the ways that God has stretched me and changed me in this place. I trust that He is going to do the same in the next…