New?

New year, same old sin.

I woke up this morning struggling with something that I've dealt with my entire life, since preschool at least! You can change the calendar, but it doesn't change the paradigm we live in.
My journal entry this morning (not the first this year, since I also wrote last night before sleeping):



I realize that this is the same struggle I've had all my life.

I recognize that it exists because of sin; because I was created for intimacy with You but that got broken. That I'm supposed to find my worth and identity in you, but we've been separated and I consistently look to other things or people to define me.

I know these things, but it's still a fight I have to live.

Holy Spirit, come.
Lord Jesus, come.
Loving Father, come.



A Chris Tomlin song that encouraged me this morning, as I strummed my guitar and waited for the answer to that prayer of invitation:

Great is your faithfulness, oh God/ you wrestle with the sinner's heart/ you lead us in the song of our salvation/ and nothing can keep us apart.
So remember your people, remember your children, remember your promise, oh God...
Your grace is enough/ heaven reaching down to us/ your grace is enough for me.
Your grace is enough/ I'm covered in your love/ your grace is enough for me.

Two double ought nine...

...Is over at midnight tonight. This year has brought a lot of changes and a lot of good things. I'm living some dreams I've had for much of my life, as I find myself in Latin America, fluent in Spanish, and helping raise abandoned/neglected children in a family-style setting.
Along with those dreams fulfilled have come some hardships, especially recently as I faced a profound feeling of loneliness. Earlier in the year, the difficulties came more from doubting my calling to this dream of raising children at risk, of struggling through sacrifice of self for that calling, of learning that even I have "authority issues", and beginning to see some of the ugliness that lies hidden within that God wants to clean up in his refining fire.

It also means I'm completing two years as a blogger here at blogspot. And, as my brother just reminded me in an email, we're all completing ten years of surviving Y2K. There goes the decade...

December

I have a LOT to update, but I've been putting it off!
In brief (and hopefully I'll post some more detailed blogs): December 9-16 I went to the coast on a much-needed and wonderful vacation with three friends. We flew into Santa Marta, and stayed in the nearby village of Taganga, where two of our group did a scuba diving licensing course. From there, we went for one night to a national park called Parque Tayrona. It was beautiful and I wish we could've stayed longer. I definitely hope to go back sometime. Then we went back to Santa Marta, got on a bus for five hours (I'm really not patient with bus travel, and am VERY thankful for planes, and that we were able to fly to and from Bogota) to the beautiful city of Cartagena. We stayed there two nights, saw the old city, swam in the ocean a bit, and enjoyed our time together.
Those friends are now in their own countries again. Ingie left on the 19th for Canada, and Luke and Liz left the 20th for England. I miss them badly, and in some ways their departure marks the end of one phase and the beginning of another. Right now, all the staff we have are long-term, and most of the friends I've made over the last year aren't here anymore.
I think I've written before about how every few months since I've been here I need to have a good cry. Well this past week, it seems I was overdue. 1. The departure of three good friends, after a really good week together, 2. The frustration of not having close friendships, especially outside of coworkers, and 3. Being away from family this time of year, proved to be a rough combination. Anyways, I am feeling better, but missing friends and hoping to make more here. I finally understand how difficult it is moving to a new city (and not being in university) and trying to find community. Thankfully with the ministry, I'm automatically plugged in to something, but it's different in a lot of ways.
Last night, Christmas Eve, everyone here at the farm went down to Kiwi House to hang out together. We ate around 9 pm, then the kids decorated gingerbread houses (a very American thing... Thanks to Jess's efforts in the kitchen all day). Little J., who refused to sleep in the afternoon, fell asleep while eating at about 10. I put him in a bed with the promise to wake him up to open presents, but when 11 o'clock rolled around and I got him, he couldn't handle it so we just had Christmas this morning instead.
Here in Colombia, the tradition is to open presents at midnight, but with the kids (and maybe moreso with the adults) we decided not to wait quite so late. Anyways, thanks to a lot of donations and family who had sent presents, there was a mountain of gifts under the tree. We didn't hand them out one by one and wait to see what everyone got, so the Great Unwrapping went pretty quickly... although I missed the way we always did it growing up. Plus, I just like the morning excitement more (and the fact that it means everyone has to go to bed early). Anyways, it was great. We finished off eating pumpkin and pecan pie (that was my culinary contribution), then headed up to our house to sleep.
Little J. slept until about 8:00 this morning, which was in itself a gift! Now I'm waiting to talk with my family. I don't know what we'll end up doing today... resting, I hope, and maybe cleaning up a bit!

Now that we're on vacation from our daily programs, one of my goals is submitting my application for my DTS (school/training with YWAM). I'm currently a bit sad about leaving for 6 months to do that, even though I know it'll be a very special time for me and an important time for spiritual growth. I've been working on the application that the base in Santiago, Chile sent me. I emailed the leaders in Pichilemu, Chile, and it turns out that they're in Bogota right now. Hopefully we'll get together so I can see what they're like and they can give me the application. I also hope to get together with a couple of acquaintances/friends.
Two days ago, I enrolled J. in a pre-school for next year! It seems like a really great program! He'll start Jan. 18th. That's a huge answer to prayer for me.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Goodbye, November

This is just a quick post to say that I love Thanksgiving. I'm very grateful that they gave us the day off in the ministry (as it's not a holiday here) and that we had an extremely successful Thanksgiving feast and get together. About 50 people were here and we ate great food -- the turkey was delicious and worth every peso that we had to pay for it; the stuffing, mashed potatoes, and gravy rocked my world; there were pies galore; the mora (like a blackberry, sort of) sauce did a decent job replacing cranberries; and the only failure was the "sweet potato" (batata) that we tried to make.
So, food-wise we did great. Fellowship: check. And after the meal those of us who wanted to went down the zip line. I went once alone, and then once with little J., who loved it! If we hadn't had big plans that day, I would've been really sad, I think. It also really helped that I got to talk to all the family who was at my parents' house in the morning.
Tonight we ate turkey soup and decorated the Christmas tree... it's offcially the holiday season. Last night we went around the city to see the lights (most public parks are decorated to the hilt and Bogota's residents go there to hang out this time of year). I've bought stockings for J. and myself... fun times!!!

Sick Day: recurring themes

Today is the Sunday before Thanksgiving. I am at home with a cold, taking advantage of my only opportunity to really rest until next weekend (and even then, who knows what will come up?) while the rest of the farm is in the city for church. I have some sermons on my iTunes that I haven’t listened to yet, so I pick one.
Greg, my pastor back home, reminds me first of all about God’s expression toward me: a continual smile. That’s something that is and has been very difficult for me to accept, because I have always imagined him regarding me without expression, waiting to see what I’ll DO and if it will be pleasing or displeasing. Having a foster son reminds me of that false belief a lot. How often do I treat little J. that way? How often does he feel that he has to perform, to be worthy, to do well, for me to smile and show him my love? When I discipline him, does he feel my love? Or only my disappointment?
But, as Greg says in this sermon I’m listening to, that is not something I can resolve to change on my own. Love and service toward others can only be an outpouring of a realization of God’s love toward me. Not until I understand that I am the guy beaten, stripped, and left for dead on the side of the road, on whom the Samaritan has mercy… not until I know that I am utterly dependent on Him will I be able to love freely and give generously and serve without reservation.
Of course, is that realistic? I don’t know… it’s problem we all have. Ever since the first people didn’t trust that God was good, that he loved them, we’ve all been born that way. And it affects us in every aspect of our lives: between God and us, with ourselves, between others and ourselves, between ourselves and the natural world. We need a radical, complete, holistic change.
I remember one line from Mel Gibson’s film, ‘The Passion of the Christ’. Jesus is staggering along the dusty road, carrying the heavy beam of the cross on which he will die. He stumbles and falls, covered in sweat, blood, dirt. His mother, Mary, is at the side of the road, in anguish. Her son, God’s son, looks at her and says, “See, Mother, I am making all things new.”
It gave me goose bumps. That’s what I want, that’s what the world needs… to be made new, in every way. And now, in Christ, we can once again walk with God in the cool of the evening, we can see him face to face without fear, without hiding our nakedness with fig leaves. We can know his love, through the lavish love of Christ. But I cannot make myself know it or understand it. I can hear the theology, but I have to wait for the Spirit to do the work of sinking it in deep.
And then, through faith and hope in the Spirit’s work, the world will change. I, too, can be a part of making all things new. When I overflow with that love, when I feel His smile, His pleasure on me as I am and do exactly and only what He created me to be (when I live ontologically), I will serve and love with reckless abandon!
Right now there are two Jamaican ladies here at Formando Vidas. Donna will be staying long term. Marion is a friend of hers and YWAM leader in Montego Bay who came to visit Colombia and help get Donna settled in. Marion is full of life, love, energy, excitement. She doesn’t speak much Spanish but said she wished she had some tracts or something in Spanish to hand out. Growing up in the South, I’ve felt and seen and participated in the misuse of things like tracts, so I don’t like the idea of “hit and run” evangelism (street evangelism, tracts, door-to-door evangelism… things that don’t have follow up from me/the group involved, things that are not relational). Marion said that she doesn’t care and she just says a prayer and uses whatever she has, that God can and will use whatever we have for His glory and purposes.
Moving to Bogotá from the Bible Belt, I’m realizing how many people do not know Jesus. Every day, on every street, every bus, in every store, I see people and wonder if they know that there is new life. If they have heard the good news. If they have hope and know that there are plans and a purpose for them; that they matter. I am seeing for the first time, that “the harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few.” Of course we need more ‘workers’, but what if the ones we have weren’t so scared of people’s reactions? What if we understood God’s love more? Enough to serve lavishly? Enough to lay down our lives, our schedules, our plans, to take time to be with someone? Enough to get over our cultural hang-ups, to pray and hand out a tract? Or to tell the street person that Jesus loves her when I give a cup of coffee?
Not because I have to, or because I ought to. Rather, because I have been loved so much that I can see I am incapable of love. But that I know One who IS love, who is in me and working through me, to fill the earth with that love and make it new again.

smiles and tear gas

Today we got off the Transmilenio (city-wide bus system like a metro or subway, but at street-level) at Calle 72 and started walking up toward the colectivo (little bus to go out of the city to the farm) as always. J was asleep in my arms, after insisting that he wasn't tired and didn't want to sleep. I heard a noise like a gun shot further up, but wasn't sure what it was. There were people standing around in the medians and I realized that there were a lot of people in the road and sidewalks a few blocks up, right about where the colective leaves from. I heard some more shot sounds, but it was surprisingly hushed. Crossing the street, I noticed that the music store had two of its three large doors closed off, as though it were closed. A moment later, I felt a strange burning in my throat, which moved into my nose and even to my eyes. Tear gas. Turning back, I went into a grocery store. We needed bread anyways.
The explosions kept going off. There's a university on the 72, toward where we were heading. Asking the check-out ladies, they said that there was, as I had guessed, a demonstration having to do with the university students.
We made our purchase and I put more minutes on my phone, then left to figure out how to get home, since our normal route was out of question. The colectivos couldn't even get through there. By this point, J had woken up. I explained to him that there was a gas outside that could hurt our noses and throats and eyes, so we needed to cover up with my scarf, and we headed out, taking a taxi to the 85 to wait for the bus there. He said the police were "fea" (ugly, bad) and I said that the gas they were shooting was feo, but also whatever the students were doing was feo and a bad situation in general. Later he asked me if the police were good or bad. "I don't know," I told him. "Sometimes they do good things, and sometimes not."


Yesterday the kids went to see a play. I stayed behind to make lunch. A frequent visitor (street person) came by to pick up a Bible that one of my co-volunteers had sent for him. He ended up talking to me for about an hour and helping me clean out the cupboards that mice had gotten into. A few times I wondered if I should make him leave or if I could trust him or I just wanted to be alone again, but it turned out to be a really cool visit.

It looks like I'm going to do my YWAM school in March. Well, I haven't applied yet or anything, but that's what I'm feeling. I'm sad about it today. Other days I'm really excited! It's going to be hard to leave, even though I plan to come back after the 6-month school and outreach.

process

My shoulders are sore and my legs are tired. Today we had a work day at the farm, so I spent a few hours dragging limbs to a pile for burning and then carrying posts on our shoulders over hills to make piles of 50 for fence posts so the cows can start eating the grass up the mountain.
It was nice work. Of course it feels good to be out in the fresh air, and to be getting exercise, but also to see progress, to see something happen, makes it so satisfying. My work here is usually very unlike that. I’m working with people, with children, and hoping to see long-term change. A friend called it a “slow redemption process” that’s being worked out. In Little J., in all the kids, in me, in all of us.
We’re all being pruned, cut back, shifted about, refuse thrown in a pile for disposal, making room for better things to grow and making us more useful and use-able. ‘As iron sharpens iron, so one friend sharpens another.’ Community is so important to our growth processes. ‘Abide in Christ’ and the Father will take care of the changing process, the Father is the gardener who does the pruning and watering and fruit-producing.

Another thing that I’ve been thinking about this week is being child-like, in the good sense. In the sense that Jesus talked about when he invited the kids to come be with him, when he said that whoever welcomes a little child welcomes him. I was reading the section of the Transfiguration in the gospel of Mark . Peter, James, and John get to go on a hike with Jesus. He supernaturally changes and then Elijah and Moses appear. The three of them are having a chat and “they were so frightened” that Peter “didn’t know what to say” (9:6). So instead of just keeping quiet and taking in as much as he could and being silent in wonder, he spoke up and said something foolish. He was uncomfortable with the situation. He was scared, he felt like he needed to say or do something. Kids don’t do that. If there’s something they don’t understand, something amazing, they let themselves be amazed. Or if they have a question, they ask it. Why do we lose those attributes when we get older?