Not Forgotten 

The Watoto Children's Choir is an African children's choir out of Uganda. Watoto means "children" in Swahili, and the choir is made up of children that lost parents to the AIDS epidemic or to war. I think they are the most beautiful choir. They sing a song by artist Israel Houghton called "Not Forgotten". [click orange link above] The kids are so thankful and happy in spite of their losses. Do you ever feel abandoned? 

You are not forgotten!

Psalm 68:5  A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy dwelling.

There are so many without families, and many more with families that are addicted or absent from the home for some reason. There is much reason to despair when considering the trouble in our world, but we are not forgotten. God knows our name, and therefore I do not despair. But instead, I put my hope in him.

In my neighborhood, there were bad things going on. My neighbors across the street had just escaped from a Phoenix ghetto, where literally their car had bullet holes throughout it. My neighbors on the other side of the street consisted of a grandma, her adult son, and his own son. The boy's mom was in prison, and I remember one day the boy found his dad dead in bed. I never heard if it was alcohol, drugs, or what. It was just sad. The neighbors a few houses down were supported by Indian Reservation funds until their house burnt down. And a few houses down from there was a home for foster kids. I remember when the SWAT team staged a drug bust in our cul de sac, and how my brother described the drug ring that his friends ran. You'd see cars come and go from that house all night long. My brother describes the crips and bloods showing up, and how they'd only talk to him when dealing because he wasn't a member of either gang. Some of those friends robbed our house and they'd beat each other just to 'toughen up'. I remember one of his friends took care of his mom, who was dying because of her meth addiction. She was his only parent. Another of his friends accidentally shot himself with his parent's gun. Another one hit and killed an elderly man with his car, sending the boy to prison. This is only a snippet of stories from a single neighborhood among millions.

In my house, we had our own dynamics. Addiction, anger, financial strife. Typical things of our neighborhood. There are a few memories from childhood that are seared into my brain, and one was of chasing my brother. He is two years younger than me. Unlike me, he made friends in our neighborhood. There were a lot of boys on the streets at all hours, and they got into trouble early on. My brother's story of the first time he smoked pot is really heart wrenching. And how that led to meth, heroine, homelessness, dealing, stealing, etc. etc. etc. I remember being home and realizing that my brother was going to go do something bad. I was crying and begging him not to go, but he was so cold. I am not lying when I tell you that his eyes were like stone, so dead. It was frightening. He shoved me out of the way, and went out the door. I was desperate for him not to leave, and was afraid he would die. I chased him down the street, screaming and crying for him not to go, but he hopped a fence to try and lose me. I got the car and tried to follow him, but eventually he crossed the main road into these apartment complexes and I lost him. I remember just sitting there in the car, devastated that there was nothing I could do.

That day I felt like I lost him forever. [I didn't. Thank you God.] The weird thing was that I never saw myself as a victim or felt like I wouldn't make it. I believed God that I would.

The other day I was at a Christian leadership training with hundreds of other people when I ran into a woman that used to live in my neighborhood. She and her family moved out, but I remembered her because she took me to church a few times and even got me to go to a church camp. When the lady realized who I was, you should have seen the shock in her face! She stumbled over her words, saying something like, "You? You don't go to chur--" and she kinda' stopped herself. I'm pretty sure I know what she was thinking. She was surprised I was at a church function, married, a teacher of four years, and happy.

Her reaction was so weird. I always saw myself as the person that I am today. But I wonder what she thought of me, back in those days when I lived in the hood with a brother on the streets, a father who yelled loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear, and a house that wreaked of illegal substances. I have to laugh. It's true. Who would have guessed?

This is my story of hope. There are many, many good things God did throughout my childhood. Vacation bible schools my mom put me in, special friends he gave me, loving neighbors, teachers, extended family, a home in Northern Arizona for a few years, and much more. So please don't get the wrong impression. I was always blessed and I don't consider those hardships to even be worth mentioning, other than that sometimes things need to be shared.

I have journals filled with prayers written in childish scrawl to a God I knew was there, though I didn't know who he was. The miracle is that I was not forgotten. God led me to salvation in Jesus Christ. There are far greater miracles and impressive stories out there. There are many who explain Him in a grander way, but I can at least tell you that my heart beats for Him. I pray today that God makes it so obvious to you that you are not forgotten, and that He is there for you, too.

  This graffiti art is from my old neighborhood corner. A picture is worth a 1,000 words.

Psalm 139 [click me]

IF there is a God,  and IF He really did create such insane laws in the Bible... WHY?   (insert echo effect)
  One of my strongest memories of my dad is how he would never help me. Not in the way I wanted. When the computer froze and I had to finish my report for middle school, he gruffly said, "Rachel, figure it out." He didn't even say it nicely! I cried, but he became meaner.
When something was hard for me, he would look me in the eye, and say, "No one is going to solve your problems for you. You have to find out the answers yourself. Stop looking to other people."   As a child, that was infuriating. I just wanted HELP! My dad's parents surrendered their parental rights and made him a ward of the state when he was a teen. He was on his own for some really formative years of his life, and it reaffirmed in him a hard, unrelenting sense of, "I'm on my own." But out of that experience, I think I would not be speaking out of turn when I say that his greatest desire for his kids was for them to be able to stand up on their own two feet. To celebrate failure and success on our own terms without someone dictating what is right or wrong. That's probably why we didn't go to church, or anything else that conventionally grouped people together. And yet, sometimes, under his shirt, my dad would wear a cross.    To this day, I don't understand it all. But I don't have to, to love him. 
Today, I honor something he taught me through those rough moments. He taught me to think for myself. Most people wouldn't look at me and say that I'm a 'tough' person. I cry at loving gestures, at heartbreaking stories, when a friend leaves, when I'm mad... all the way down to, well, sappy commercials. I also smile a lot. And, I love, love, love seeing people feel good. I hate hurting people's feelings. Heck, last night I apologized to the cricket in the bathroom when I squished him because I couldn't keep him still long enough to get him outside. [Thank you, Mom.]   But I am strong in mind and heart. [Thank you, Dad.]   Dad kept slamming the door in my face, I think, in hopes that it would shake me from that follower way of thinking. It was a tough way to learn a lesson, but he could be a tough guy.  And, such is life, right? A tough guy.
  People respond to life in weird ways. Some of us don't want to conform so we join the rebels. (Isn't that ironic?) When you stick it to man, stick it to religion, and stick it to conformers, you feel different.   We're not that different.    And on the flip side, some of us are so close minded that we wouldn't for a second consider that we might be..shhhh.. wrong.  We are so proud of what we know, and hate whatever threatens that. We think we're different.  We're not that different.     Truth is paramount for me these days. Truth is not relative. How then could it be truth? It would be perspective. Truth is black and white.

truth/tro͞oTH/

Noun:

The quality or state of being true: "the truth of her accusation". That which is true or in accordance with fact or reality: "tell me the truth".

fact/fakt/

Noun:

A thing that is indisputably the case. Information used as evidence or as part of a report or news article.

  (Disclaimer: I do not always know what the truth is. I am the rebel and the close-minded fool  in a beautiful combination of human-ness if I must say so myself. I've got both wonderful strengths going for me. ;)   So, in terms of God. There has been a lot of hubbub lately about the Biblical law declaring homosexual activity as sin. It causes a lot of people to point fingers at Biblical laws and say-- seriously? You really accept that as truth?  Others' responses include some interesting gestures [not just the middle finger].

• Some excuse the Bible, asking forgiveness for its errors, saying it's translated wrong in parts.
• Others say the Bible is out of date, creating a mish-mash of what sounds right to them. Being tolerant or even accepting of varying viewpoints to cohabitation on our planet.
  
• And some opt out. No thanks. How about another religion, science, or philosophy instead?
  

One has to admit: If you say any of the three above, you conflict with many verses in the Bible. It claims it is the word of the one and only God, the truth, useful for all training, and perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Without faith in its message of unearned salvation, the result is an eternity in hell.
 If you lean towards a version of one of the bulleted responses, you don't really believe the claims above. So before going there, one who authentically wants to find out if the Bible is the truth, [despite personal misgivings, to put it lightly], would have to ask...   IF there is a God,  and IF He is the God of the Bible, Then,
WHY?

And that is a very honest [and possibly frightening] place to be.  Examine the Bible in its fullness with a careful eye. careful heart. careful, questioning prayer.
Acts 13 is interesting. It sums up the history of how God has moved, and towards the end says, "Through him everyone who believes is set free from every sin, a justification you were not able to obtain under the law of Moses."   After reading the book of Romans, and combined with the above [among super many others] it becomes apparent that: While the law reveals sin, it does not provide a means to overcome it. (As some say.. laws were meant for breaking. Didn't God know these laws wouldn't work for us?...wait a second, did he? And if he did, and he still included the laws...) They must be necessary; for if we can't see sin, or think we can achieve the commands set out in the Old Testament, how can anyone find genuine value in God's redemption through Jesus Christ?  You might, might, might just not understand the law. There are a LOT of people coming up with some interesting responses w/o ever considering the Bible. It's possible they don't want to take the time; they find themselves very educated and appraise or create truth instead; they listen to what someone else tells them.  But they're just people.  In the vastness of that giant Bible God says that the law is both just and impossible to meet; not that it's useless.
He says the law is perfect. It's just that... as He so nicely puts it... we forever fall short. Whether we try super hard or not at all.  We fail. So, Jesus Christ saves and redeems, showing no favoritism.  THAT is a true story for Jews and Gentiles alike.  To me, that is amazing news on this Friday.

Do It Afraid.

When I read, I try to picture everything in my mind line by line. It's a way to stay focused and draw the most meaning out of the words. Sometimes if I don't do that, I can't even recall what I just read. I do this with the Bible too. There's just one difference. When I read the Bible, I am believing every image that it describes, and I am committing it to heart as truth.

SO.
Last night before bed I was watching Acts 8-11 in my mind [reading]. It describes Stephen being stoned to death while a man named Saul stood by giving approval. Saul then goes on a rampage destroying and murdering Christians everywhere. It reads, "Saul was breathing out murderous threats...". (Please note: Saul believed in God. This is why he was so put off by this Jesus Christ claiming he was God.) Then it goes on to describe Saul's astonishing repentance and his decision to believe in and follow Christ. (It might be important to note that Jesus literally spoke to him from the heavens in a booming and authoritative voice, asking why Saul was persecuting him... then he blinded Saul.)

The only reaction it mentions from Saul is that he falls to the ground and asks,  "Who are you, Lord?" Jesus reveals himself to Saul, and gives him specific directions. Saul is still on the ground, shaking in fear, as far as I can tell.

Anyway, in this process, God speaks to another man, Ananias, in a vision, telling him to pray over this man Saul who is now a believer. Ananias, though totally afraid for his life, is obedient. Majorly good things go on to happen.

Then I got to ch.10 where a gentile [non-Jewish] commander in the Roman army is visited by an angel during his prayer time. The angel says something to the effect of, "Cornelius! Your love for God is evident. But there is more for you to know. Send men to retrieve a man named Peter, who will be waiting for you at Simon the Tanner's house in Joppa." The part I pictured was the way it described this obviously strong war hero's reaction: "Cornelius stared at him in fear." (But he did send his men for Peter.) Majorly good things go on to happen for Cornelius, his family, and friends.

What did I learn from my night-time reading? Well, my dog woke me up to go to the bathroom at midnight. As he wandered the yard playing fun night-time games, I stood there in the dark feeling very.. vulnerable. Not to bad guys. Not to wild animals. To God.

I was like, Oh dear.  Is an angel going to appear? I was spying out the shadows, seeing glints from the streetlight, and hearing things in the bushes. I was totally freaked out... that an angel was about to appear and tell me something CRAZY!

I had to laugh this morning. I'll tell you what though. I believe, and I will do it afraid. God isn't just a lovable teddy bear to squeeze when you feel lonely. He is serious business.

(And p.s. I can totally understand why people tried to literally hide from God by changing towns, etc. I turned on the lights and went in the house to feel safer... from God?? lol, really Rachel? A God appearance is intense.) Before you judge me to too harshly, look at these guys!

1. Saul was a powerful, murdering, cocky son of a gun. When God showed up... He cowered in fear on the ground.

2. Ananias was a faithful disciple already following God. Yet his immediate response was, "I am going to be killed. Lord, please nooo!"

3. Cornelius was a revered commander in the Roman army, and a faithful man of God. His response? A 'deer caught in the headlights' look of total fear. 

In the end, no angel visitations for me last night. Just an awesome dream about Disneyland where I had to solve a mystery. It was amazing.

Take God at His word. 

And when you feel afraid, you're in good company.  

People Projects

I'm not about turning people into projects. If I'm spending time with you, it's because I like you.

So, my wonderful friend Leah referred me to a blog called The Very Worst Missionary. I skimmed it and had a good time reading the lady's musings, until I read the line above. "I'm not about turning people into projects. If I'm spending time with you, it's because I like you."

I had to stop and think for a minute. I wish it was because I was just bathing in the thought of how much I agree. But it stung in the opposite way. I remember once telling my best friend that my husband is the only person I trust totally. She looked shocked, and hurt. I immediately thought, "Why on earth did I say that?" Followed by, "Shoot..it's true." 

So here's what I figure. God has been my best friend for a long time, and I know He has my back. I just love him so, so, so, so much. Not in a religious zeal kind of way, not in a bragging sort, or to uphold my Christian image. But in an honest to goodness, seriously, there is no one who has filled my heart to the brim with joy, peace, and absolute love like you. He was there when I was in the pits, and I didn't imagine it. I know it. But anyway, because of that relationship with God, when I meet people, the driving force is that they would know Jesus Christ too. And here's where things start to unravel.. I figure that I need to try to do this, and that, and everything I can to be... for lack of better words, perfect for them. In essence, there is a project in the midst. And the problem with me "trying to do this, and that, and everything I can to be... for lack of better words, perfect".. is that my whole logic here is just kind of contrived; this plan requires a perfect Rachel, and that is not me. There's a lot of great inadequacies I have to share with my friends..hehe.

The ah-ha moment today is that in many relationships I have 'tried' to bring God to people, instead of trusting that God brings himself just fine. Whooee! I can be plain ol' me enjoying plain 'ol them. That's a relief.  I won't ruin people's lives by letting them get to know me just as I am. It's ok if they don't like me. It's ok if God works in mysterious ways; I can trust him. I can trust people!

That got my brain rolling. Back in the day, there was this girl in my art class in college that brought tuna for lunch every day. She dressed weird, and she laughed a lot. She always opened her tuna in class, and everybody would gather into their lunch circles and talk about how she smelled, and what a weirdo she was. It made me mad. I liked her. Genuinely. But after reading that quote above, I started to question myself. Why do I always like the underdog? Should I not gravitate towards people like that? Is is just me wanting to find more... projects??? Augh. I was kind of having a mental break down. Because seriously, if you know me, you know I love the underdog. And I was starting to feel really sad about it all, and just unsure of my motives.

Well, then I went to clean off my kitchen cork-board, and beneath all the papers, I found an old index card with three verses on it. They read: 

Luke 12.. "Be dressed ready for service and keep your lamps burning. [...] The Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him. 

Luke 13.. "I make every effort to enter through the narrow door." 

Luke 14.. "But when you give a banquet invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed.You will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous." 

It felt so good to read those, especially the last one. Jesus is all about loving the people at the bottom of the totem pole. He swam upstream, when most went down. And he has created that in me too. I really love people who are different. I find them inspiring, funny, and interesting. And I can say confidently now that it's not because they're a project, but because underdogs are like hidden treasure. I absolutely know Jesus would love to hang with them, and how much he loves them cannot be contained in me. I know that Jesus is smiling at how much I love the underdog. 

G is for grace.

"I do not know any way to explain why God's grace touches a man who seems unworthy of it." 

Whittaker Chambers

I like this quote. It suits my mood tonight of how I totally don't understand God's grace. The more I don't deserve it, the greater I receive.

Just want to say thanks to God for being the best friend I could ever have. Such an encourager and lover when I'm most unlovable. Teaching me to be that way to others. Will I ever get it fully? I just don't think so. Not in this lifetime anyways. But it's inspiring. When people talk about a good person in their lives, they say, "I hope to someday be just a fraction of what he [or she] was...". That's exactly how I feel. I'm just so enamored with this love I've found in Christ.

It's ... out of this world. ;)

Giving Gracefully

Today I'm thinking about giving. Some situations lately have led me to consider why we give. I've thought of three, though there are probably more.

         Probably the most popular way is to give to those who love us (family, significant others, friends). We give our affection, loyalty, money, and time. In return, we often receive affection, loyalty, money, and time from them too. It is this continual trade off of giving. This starts from an early age for most of us, and we begin to form this ideal in our young minds: give to those you care for, and they will be happy and give back to you. Not to say that our giving intentions are always to receive, but it's implied that giving merits some type of payback in our relationships. (This isn't guaranteed, I'm sure you know. We see this ideal cause riffs in many relationships because people have different ideas of what kind of payback they 'deserve'. After a certain amount of time, some people longer than others, if the giving and payback do not seem to balance out, we stop giving or give very minimally.)

       Another type of giving is to give to organizations we support. These organizations do not necessarily give back to us individually, but they further a cause we stand for, and that's payback in itself. This might look like tithing to a church, donating to a charity, or volunteering for a nonprofit. We gain joy out of seeing the organization succeed in its purpose. We develop the ideal that giving is a way of furthering our beliefs and leaving a fingerprint on the world. If the organization starts to do things we disagree with (in result, ending the payback), we simply stop giving. No payback, no gift.

     The third type of giving is giving to a stranger. This might look like giving a lift to someone who is walking down the road, buying a meal for a homeless person, letting someone else go first in the grocery line, etc. It's when one individual gives to an unrelated, separate individual. These situations rarely give back in a predictable way. However, they more than likely do give a payback. If it's outward it may be a smile from the stranger, a thank you, it may make you look good in front of others or better your self image. If the payback is intrinsic, it can be a number of things: make you feel like a good person, make you feel like you have purpose in this world, make you feel that you're achieving religiously, or bring honor to your cause (an organization you support). For instance, when a politician gives out freebies to strangers, he is bringing honor to his political party. When a church gives out free school supplies to needy families, this brings honor to their god.

   I'm not knocking any of these forms of giving at all. Receiving is great, and I definitely am not void of a lot of the reasoning I talked about. But here is the verse that made me want to jot some thoughts down on giving this morning.

Matthew 6:3-4

"When you help someone out, don't think about how it looks. Just do it—quietly and unobtrusively. That is the way your God, who conceived you in love, working behind the scenes, helps you out. [The Message version]

P.S. A supporting is Luke 6:35

“But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back.

[NIV version]

I recently helped a family member out in a way that really stretched me financially, emotionally, and with my investment of time. But I did it because I fully believed and expected this would help the person become financially, emotionally, and especially, spiritually stable. It did not pan out the way I hoped. In fact, the person was angry with me at the end of my involvement. A while later, a stranger was in great need, and I spent a good amount of time helping the person with my time, finances, and encouragement. The person ended up falsifying my name for personal gain... and that was definitely not the payback I had in mind! I had hoped to again see the person financially, emotionally, and ultimately spiritually stable. Both times, I knew it was time to move on when the situation turned abusive, but my giving wasn't a failure.

I love that the Matthew verse says not to think about how it looks. Normally this would mean, don't be showy in your giving, but I also understand it as don't expect it to go your way. And I love even more that the last words in the passage say that God, who conceived you in love, is working behind the scenes and helping you out. When you give, and someone slaps you in the face (maybe literally, maybe figuratively ;), do you get angry or bitter? Do you regret giving to them? Do you respond by slandering them to other people, hurting them in revenge, taking back what you gave, sulking, pity-partying, etc? My parents taught me two things that I am barely beginning to understand.
1. My mom taught me to give secretly when possible.
2. My dad taught me to ask myself, if in the end this leads to pain on my part, is that ok? Am I prepared to give anyway? If not, he said, don't proceed.  

I like these lessons. Not because I want to be a doormat. In fact, I think these two methods of giving are both strong and bold moves. It isn't c'est la vi, what will be, will be. It's proactive and intentional. Couple that with the faith of knowing that God is working behind the scenes and helping you out* and it is actually AMAZING! You don't have to worry about defending yourself or putting people in their place. So those two circumstances I mentioned with the people above, I feel full of joy and gratitude that I was able to give to them, and I believe that God is working [present tense] behind the scenes in their lives to bring them to a place of peace with Him. We can only see so much of the picture, and even then, it's colored through our own lens. I have begun to see how blessed I am in my trials, especially when I am betrayed or my giving is abused. It's because my giving doesn't start and end with me, God sets it up, helps me with it, and then works behind the scenes long after I'm gone. It helps me to see how to love my enemies and to give to them graciously with a pure heart. It is really powerful.

Love it.

*The verse says God conceived mankind in love, and before helping us out with anything else, God's gift of salvation in Jesus Christ is his first, essential step for anyone that seeks his help. Some books I learned from, if you're interested in further research on the topic of Jesus Christ:
C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity and Lee Strobel's Case for Christ.  
(C.S. Lewis' The Screwtape Letters is my absolute favorite, but has a fictional setting and is not a research book. I still took away great bits though, and would be curious on any of your impressions if you end up reading it!)

Lastly, I have these books if you want to borrow any. One is dog-chewed, but still readable. ;)

Nelson Mandela is human, too.

I recently finished Nelson Mandela's autobiography, Long Walk to Freedom. I love to read about these giants who seem to have overcome the bustle of everyday business and used their days to help the suffering and lift the downtrodden. It's natural to envision these men and women as heroes who have mastered something I haven't yet-- to think of them as people to admire and praise. But what I love most about Mandela's writing is how honest he is. Gosh, at moments I'd find myself reading and thinking, really? How could he have been so wrong? Why would he do such a thing? And as I read his candid memoirs, it was reassuring. His humility was really powerful for me.

Mandela wasn't unique or particularly gifted among his tribe. He didn't have some spiritual vision or grand calling for South Africa. As a child he was clueless to the circumstance around him, just like most of us are in our youth. To his credit, he is a man of great conviction, and he acted according to his conscience, or as Christians believe, he followed the Holy Spirit's lead steadfastly and with little question. A man of great faith. (Mr. Mandela is a Christian, by the way, but his book rarely if ever talks about theology. I honestly didn't know his faith, or if he had one, until the end of the book, which was also kind of nice. It wasn't like he wrote it to spout how great of a religious man he was or teach the reader a lesson.) In fact, many times Mandela discussed how he had to abandon his family for the cause of his people. He talked about his divorces and how he didn't care for his mother in her old age as he had wished to. He even questions whether his fight for freedom was worth it. I found it very comforting to hear a man so remarkable think back on his life with such sentiment. I don't think it was regret for what he did, but a longing to have been able to do more. He had to sacrifice so much, and it was humbling to hear his remorse.

Anyway, this blog is about that feeling he expressed. I feel silly comparing my feelings with Mandela's, but that's the great thing about his voice, and for me, his message. Of course his is a story of a fight against oppression and the ugliness of apartheid, but when I read it, I could hear him saying, it wasn't me who accomplished this. I did what I could, but someone much grander was at work. I know if he did read my blog he would be kind and generous in my feeble attempt to live a life that is worth it. His humanity allowed me the honor of being able to relate to his inadequacies, that he was really just a human trying to do what he thought best. I'm sometimes held back because I'm caught up in expecting more of myself in all these facets of my life (Christian, wife, daughter, sister, friend, teacher, woman, employee, neighbor, etc.) Then I think of the great need in the world, and the expectation grows exponentially. Whether it's a cultural pressure, a religious expectation, just the way I was raised or whatever-- it is a big waste of time. I just don't believe these ideals we strive for, as well intentioned as we can sometimes be, are the point.

I happened across this blog, and it brought it home for me tonight. Maybe for you too?

 "I choke because my every day life begins to feel small compared to the expectation. And He breathes truth that a life is not made by lives saved or bellies fed or words written. To adore the one who created the Heavens and the Earth, to give thanks for who He is and all He has given, to worship and commune with Holy God, whispering in the quiet, clinging in the noise, believing in all circumstances – this is what makes a life large."  Katie Davis @ kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com

I dedicate this blog to the one who is always there for me and who accomplishes good in me and through me. If only I could properly thank you. You are always pointing me in the right direction, and turning me back when I go wrong. 

What can I do but thank you, what can I do but give my life to you? Hallelujah. 

What Can I Do?