Heartbleed

Work, learn, reach, strive, cry, pick up, put together, come apart, pray, smile, sing, trust,... the rollercoaster of my heart these days. The discipline of my Father can be a little trying... I want a break, a vacation, I want a whole day just me, Him, my Bible and my breathing lungs. A muzzle on the world is not the worst idea I've heard, and if I had my day of rejuvenation and renewal I might come back with just a bit more hope, a bit more faith, a bit less fear and a bit less stress. I can't wait for Faithwalkers...

Favorite quotes

Quoting reputed authors is not only necessary for the preservation of culture, but also for the preservation of intelligence and good quality conversation. I came from a recent conversation with some people about particular authors, namely Paul of the Bible and Plato. This conversation was not only enlightening but it taught me that there are too few conversations that actually stimulate my brain cells into action and want to know even more of what the world of our grandfathers thought like. How is it that the power of the mind can cure itself of mental affliction and we still suffer from bi-polar disorder? I wish I could say that it wasn't an issue in our ancestor's time, but the glaringly obvious example of Saul strikes that one out.

One author will always be a favorite with me, though she doesn't write with a particular philosophical air she does write with a measure of wisdom (I don't mean myself -- yet). Jane Austen once wrote:

"There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it."

This quote became a favorite when I went through a series of disappointments and realized that people are not the rock on which I can lean when I'm in trouble.

And then there's my burning desire to do something big. I feel like I was created for something special -- mostly because I can't stand the thought of becoming something mediocre. God created me and drew up a blue print of my life and has my wiring figured out... yet I stop more than periodically to wonder if my life, who I am, what I'm doing, my mindset, my relationships with people, my love, my sacrifice (Rom 12:1), my decisions; is any of it worth Calvary? Or will I eventually become another one of those of whom I cannot think well?

Heartflutters

Unfortunately our culture has so desensitized my excitement molecules that whenever I think of something exciting and in some cases DO something exciting it's not enough to cause those heartflutters of passion for doing that thing unless my life is at risk. I don't mean to say that risking my life should be fun, I'm only saying that movies and high expectations for entertainment these days has caused an extreme increase in demand for all things thrilling.

I'm thinking of one particular thrill and when I think of this thing that I have only wanted to desperately do for the past week or so, my heart begins to float with excitement. I can hardly keep my butt in my chair when I think about ...

...travelling to Colombia.

I know, I've read it all, heard all the warnings and know all the risks. Just give me a year or two in Bogota and I'll be satisfied. My heart will no longer flutter, the desensitization will return. I'm not saying that I will go... in all probability I will think incessantly about it until my head explodes and later I won't give it a second thought. But until then, my 'Google history' will be cluttered with facts, currency exchange, travel tips and statistics on paramilitary infiltrations and terrorist attacks. Who knows? Maybe I will convince myself that the hype isn't enough to keep me away...

(SIDENOTE: this was written in a moment when I had completely forgotten about the previous blog, written less than a month ago... I forgot about the travel show, I hadn't thought about Colombia seriously since then, and the "crush" returned... whoa! Is it a sign? Guess it's time to pray...)

Be a movie star!

Dreams and fantasies are the fruits of hope. Hope is something we need because our lives are not up too high on the perfection scale. My dreams and fantasies I imagine are a little different from your average gal who would like to be a movie star or a singer or a veternarian for that matter. No.

I'm not sure how to describe it.

I'm finding there is a fine line for everything that I'm nearly always crossing or in danger of crossing. Friendship is something that I'm getting better at. I don't know if I've ever really kept a friend just for being my fabulous self (which is what I always have expected), but I'm slowly finding out that real love is work. If you want to be loved, you've got to LOVE!! It seems on the extreme side of simplistic and logical (DUH), but how many of us think that love is something that our friends owe to us because we are gracious enough to be their friend and answer their phone calls? In many ways we're unconsciously saying: you are so lucky to be MY friend.

What's the point of all this? All I'm saying is there is a serious lack of generous people who have genuine love to give. My dream is to love people with a Genuine Love that comes from hard work and a Foundation worth building a friendship on. I want to be a real friend, someone to count on, someone to confide in, someone to listen, someone whose "yes is yes," and whose "no is no." I want to be the friend that John was to Jesus, or that Jesus was to his twelve homies!

Who do you want to be remembered as? The movie star whose face everyone knew but nobody remembered to shed a tear for when you overdosed and are six feet under? Or do you want to be the one who everyone remembers as the true friend that knew how to love without reserve, give without a second thought, and humbly honor others without thinking of yourself first?

I hope my life speaks for who I want to be.

Swept off my feet

There are times in our lives, moments, days that we simply never want to forget - or that we wish would never end. There are few days, few moments in mine that have measured up or that have provoked that desire in me. Yesterday was one of those few. It wasn't "just" another experience - I don't even like that word, experience. I went to the Rock, I tried hard to get there first of all and a few obstacles arose that discouraged me, and God's blessing never fails me. I feel the significance of His paying attention to me almost daily now. I finally arrived - though a bit late and the moment I planted myself in from of the chair, after a little less than a week of a somewhat faltering fast I suppose made me vulnerable to the presence of God.

As soon as the first words of the song were in the air, I was awed into silence. I wanted to sing, I wanted to express. I couldn't. I was still, listening to the voices carrying God's praises. My heart sang, my soul felt, my spirit simply fell face down in adoration. The overwhelming sense of His love was nearly a physical weight in my heart and my feelings released the way they always do -- with tears. My heart cried out, again and again I devoted myself to His work, His will, His heart. I crave more.

I could write for hours and try to describe the sensation, the purest desire to love God with all that I am, my actions, my behaviour, my decisions, my ALL-all. Not just my regular "all."

This intense feeling of love washing over me and the intense desire to return that love, to throw myself at the mercy of His hand and his heart, all made me think: what man exists in this world who could even begin to tempt me to divide my attention?? The Bible tells me that marriage obliges a man to divide his attention - "one-for-God, one-for-you." I don't know that there is anyone out there who is worth that.

I am officially swept off my feet!!

What an occupation can do

It's so incredible that after almost 2 years of idleness I will be starting a whole new work life, and after only 2 days of training I enjoy the material, know the basics and have memorized several of the imperative details. I never knew so much rides on this thing we call the Market, and I definately didn't know that there were so many Acts of congress, rules, laws, regulations and acronyms involved...

But that's not why I sit down to my beloved blog tonight. There has been a lot on my mind in recent weeks, and these past few days have been spent trying to orient my brain and my heart. I don't think I've been successful in this, but I do know one brand new original thing that I'm sure I and everyone else already knew: those flutteries in your middle don't mean you're in love. How do I know? I got those feelings today and I can't be in love, but I can say that when I saw what I saw to make my middle all fluttery, all I wanted to do was throw myself at...

Columbia.

Ok, now everyone is wondering, 'what the heck?' Me too!! I wonder how I can watch 20 minutes - the leftovers - of an hour long special on Columbian travels and get all bent out of shape, emotional, excited, pumped to go there ..and then the next hour long special is on Chile (of all places least desired to visit in the world except to get to Easter Island) and practically nod off into my own drool with boredom.

What is it then? Adventure? Mystery? The suposed "forbidden-ness" of the country? Really, I wanted to meet the people, talk, understand the culture so well obscured; discuss politics, religion, God, philosophy, sorrow and joy, and most of all, their experiences as victims unable to step even outside their own neighborhood without the fear of being murdered. But even more than that, I want to immerse myself in it, become a part of it, live it, understand it not from good conversation, but from experience.

Am I crazy? probably.
Will I do it? doubtful.
And the flutteries? likely they will go away.
So what then? I'll have to orient my brain and my heart first.

Definitions

I watched Batman Returns the other night and one of those movie catch phrases stuck with me. "Often it's not who you are inside, but what you do that defines you." That sticks with someone who wants to do a lot but has a lot of trouble picking up momentum. So, the big question remains... what the hell am I doing?

Mostly I'm reading a lot, entertaining and disciplining a 4 and 7 year old, watching MASH, planning for a 5 day camping trip I'm taking next week, and looking forward to every Thursday, Friday and Sunday every week. On a scale of "nothing-to-something" I'd say I'm up to about 40% something and the rest nothing. I'd like to get some more something.

"Do What You Want"

The title, a quote from my favorite theorist and for the sake of anonymity we'll call him Nate, my brother. It's a funny thing what makes you think about things the most - in this case a simple admonition to do what is most simple: think of myself first.

I'll try it.

wishin' and hopin' and dreamin'

There are few things in life that require weeks of careful thought and consideration. One of them for me is whether or not I'm worthy of someone's unconditional love and devotion. My conclusion as of late was "no" I'm not worthy and it put me on a path to discovery. I'm finding out first that the only reason I would ever feel "unworthy" is because of an unhealthy dislike for myself. Why would I not like myself? It is a vulnerable question I think to be posting on a mere blog, but I feel I am not alone in this and that others might benefit from my vulnerability. I'm finding that even deeper down, I dislike myself enough to convince myself that Romans 8:1 is untrue ("There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus"). I am in Christ, but I continue to condemn myself. In a way it is a form of obstinate pride. Who am I to condemn what God does not?! One person allowed that it might be true that I like to feel unhappy. I feel that this is a way for me to punish myself for being so unworthy, un-liked, sinful, hurtful and careless with other peoples' feelings. And at a very high cost to myself I feel it necessary to be consistent with my unworthiness, and continue finding reasons to be able to justify my self-condemnation and consequent punishment. This means that I will behave towards people as though I don't give a damn, when in fact my health and happiness depend on my faithfulness to these people. I am referring to more than one person in this case, although one stands out in my heart.

So what would be the beginning of healing and getting on the road to worthiness? It's too simple, and for me nearly impossible. I need to accept myself for who and what I am, and subsequently allow God to accept me as I am. I cannot do one without the other. If I don't accept what I am, how can I expect God to change me from the inside out? What is there to change if I am in denial, or if I am in a state of constant self-condemnation? Who am I to decide who I get to be? That, my friend, would be prideful arrogance. God created me to be me, not someone that I want to be.

So what am I? Who is it that I need to accept? I am selfish; I thrive on feeling needed but only for the purposes of controlling those who need me; I am resentful towards family members for not being more sensitive to my needs; I am angry with God; I am afraid God wants to take the things I love the most; I don't trust God or people; I prefer solitude to potential pain; I prefer misery to risk; I am a people (mom)- pleaser often to my detriment; I am self-righteous and try to prove it; I am failing in my relationship with Christ (due to lack of trust). These are only a few of the negative qualities that I have discovered in these past few days. Some of the more positive qualities are that I will give of myself freely in love; I will give my life for my family that I resent so much; I will live to serve the God I don't trust or know very well; my heart's devotion to those I love stretches beyond time and space; my intention is always to do what is best (just not always for myself);... um, it's much more difficult for me to think on this point.

Step one of my solution for now: repeat Romans 8:1 several times a day. Step two: try honesty.

person whisperer

There is a way to excersize your brain and soul. For everyone it's different. For me its running. The other night I went for a "jun" (not quite a jog, but not a run either) and I was thinking, praying and meditating on my life, my self, my desicions and everything in between. As I'm "junning" the face of a man enters my head, he's a round-faced Mexican with too-white teeth and a thousand dogs in his yard the size of a dude ranch. You got it, Cesar Milan, the infamous dog whisperer... why did I think of him?

This crazy Mexican says that dogs need three things to live healthy, happy lives:

Excersize

Discipline

Affection

-- in that order.

I'm thinking I've gone batty since I'm thinking of the dog whisperer during my "jun" that is meant for clearing my head and praying for direction in life. Then I think, 'wait, can't that be applied to people at some level?' I need to excersize (my spiritual gifts, my physical body, my brain), I need discipline (daily devotional, a routine, eating right), and then maybe - JUST MAYBE - God will see fit to reward me with affection and show me the path to true joy and peace, and allow me to "affect" (love).

Not that I think God withholds affection from me, I think that if He requires me to excersize and lead a more disciplined life, that is His highest form of love because in the end I will be grateful and live a joyful life.

homesick... but for where?

Once again I find myself in that paradoxical moment where I feel the pressures of life crashing down on me when all I want to do is live out my fantasies; the realities of living are almost too suffocating. The butterflies in my stomach never cease when I think of packing another suitcase, when I think of traveling, when I think of living elsewhere. Giddy is the word that describes the feeling best. Love is a strong word, but also the word that describes my deep desire to make a go of it in Latin America. When? You ask. Why not now? I respond. Oh, that's right -- reality hovers like one of those dark rainy cartoony clouds over my head.

And where is God in this equation? Handy at my beck and call, but it's one of those deals where I get pissed off and feel like screaming: What the $%^*# is going on and how are you going to work any of this out for their good? How is heartbreak supposed to solve anything? Heartbreak when the cause is family is maybe ten-thousand times the pain. It's like comparing the cracks in the desert sand to the crack of a recent earthquake.

But how do we rate our dreams then? How do we go about living while putting everything we want out of our own life on the back-burner? Easy. Attribute it to love and a little bit of "the crazies" in our brains and souls. If anything can drive anyone crazy it's love. I heard SomeWhere that love is stronger than death and there are an awful lot of people who are crazy paranoid about death and go darn crazy dwelling on it and doing crazy things to avoid it. If this is the power of the simple thought of death, which is supposed to be natural and "a part of life," what is the subsequent power of love and the overwhelming desire to attain it and even more dangerous desire to sacrifice everything for it?

been there, done that

This week was spent more or less in a hole. I've been curious about those who stumble on their big break: Bourdain, Zimern and Brown on the Travel Channel are a few, and the countless others that include just about any pen-wielding hand that has ever created a real life story out of a real life experience that earned real life money. People, like those mentioned above, who live, breathe, and literally eat their passion, it's these people who inspire me.

I've written about my travel experiences, I've mentioned that I like writing an awful lot, I've mentioned to friends that living in these here United States doesn't seem like an option for me. My grandmother, when the conniption subsides, I'm sure will come around. I think a few post cards to a few key people in a few key countries are in order... contacts you know are the only way to make it in this world. And it's true what they say, you never can tell what's around the next bend. Who knows? Maybe I'll even start a business based on my own passion!

Lilies

true love

There is little in life that can teach you what love is. There are definitions and philosophies and feelings, but there is nothing really that is the case-study and true experience of what love is -- until someone is suddenly in a real situation where his life is hanging by a thread and there is nothing you can do. No hand of salvation you can offer, no amount of money, no certain number of hugs or "I love yous" can reach far enough. Only then the real meaning of love sets into your soul and you have no control over its growth, like a strangling vine that wraps slowly, continually around you. You don't realize it's grip until in one instant, just one moment, one breath, one thought, everything revolves around the vine. And even though it might strangle you to death, the only thing you think about is the survival and growth and health of that precious bit of green. As your breathing gets shorter and it hurts even more, you see a bloom, a flower or even a ripe fruit growing on the vine -- Hope.

It's funny how we think of love. Love is not a feeling or an experience, love is not who we're with, love isn't even (as so often described) a mother's touch. Love is simple, love is what God created us to be. Think about it, God, in His infinite wisdom decided that he wanted to create a you and a me so that He could love us. Our essence, the thought, the idea of "us" is love - is God.

So why are there athiests in the world? Will they ever discover love beyond the feeling or experience, the already-thought-of philosophies and Hallmark-card tear-jerkers? Or will they wander aimlessly and thoughtlessly believing that these really are love? Never knowing... never realizing that the molecules that make up "them" are there because of Love, their very existence, their ability to feel, experience and even throw their life away isn't because some cosmic accident crashed into nothing... It's all due to the Ultimate Love. It might be a good idea to make that the goal instead of just taking the expected cultural steps: boy-meets-girl, marriage, family, brothers and sisters are created, an inexplicable bond is formed, death inevitably follows, and subsequentially pain and tears. Is that the real thing? Or is there something deeper? There exists Love that understands times-ten what it is to feel the strangulation and helplessness, that knows the tears and pain all too well, that simply wants the "I love yous" to reach beyond skin-deep and penetrate --like a double-edged sword-- the heart and cut the soul away from the spirit so that the depth of this Love can reach to places we don't even know how to dream about.

Where to go from here

When you come from a place that challenges you spiritually, physicially and (only occasionally) mentally, what are you supposed to do when you come out of it to a place of T.v. land, fast food and real meat? It boils down to a condition more serious than your typical "reverse-culture shock." First, I have to find a way to get my hair to stop falling out (lack of protein for 5 months does that to you), then I have to figure out what it means to make money (I think it's called a JORB), and even still after working all that out, there's the issue of food in excess (I'm not getting fat I'm just fluffing out).

Every time I come home I realize there are fewer and fewer things that interest me the same way they did when I was here last. In a way it feels like going to a new place and starting over from scratch, even though the people here seem to know my name and where I live. You would think it would take a week or two and things would feel natural again... the truth is nothing ever really feels natural unless I am on a plane, in a strange city, or at the top of a mountain with a backpack of the bare necessities.

There is a new curiosity to know what lies beyond even the big chunk of the world I've already seen. Travelling doesn't seem to quench the curiosity, so my solution is to explore another avenue of philosophy, self-discovery, and expression:

Tortilla?

God has been working hard on me. Little by little everything that my mom and sister have always said to me is resurfacing and this time God is opening my eyes and removing the veils. There are many things that I could go into so you would know what it's like when God grabs ahold of your spirit and wrings it out like a wet dish towel... Well, what the hay! ...

First, the number one priority of my God for my life is that I sit down with him for a couple of hours each day for a chat. I fell way behind in that when I used to say, “I'm a Christian.” I was forgiven and posessed the promise of life, but my relationship with Him was to say the least, lacking. There is a new place I've found that is the most precious of places, a place where my spirit will scream in frustration, sigh with a deep sense of peace, sing a love song to my beloved, or dance with a heart bursting with joy for being able to spend a moment with my Lord. It's a secret place, it's a special place, it's a place where distractions are not welcome or allowed. It's a place of glory and a place where power is born. If anyone feels without hope or without love, or if life simply lacks life ... I urge you to find that place and learn to love our faithful friend Jesus, our loving Father, and our ever-present Holy Spirit. I'm only beginning and my priorities have begun to change and my worries are beginning to ebb away, and a very real power has entered into my world.

A real life example of this power is still amazing me every time I stand up or sit down. After a 5 hour bike ride, my knee felt seriously abused and injured. Literally each time I stood up or sat down pain would shoot through it and with a horrible cracking sound and a movement of the knee cap that was highly abnormal, I considered withdrawing from the infamous Extreme Challenge. Last Saturday our challenge was a race, boys against girls, and the night before my knee was worse than ever. I discussed quitting with one of the girls and without making any decisions we went to bed. I couldn't sleep and an hour or so later my other leg (sans the knee problem) was wide awake and nerves were shooting energy through my leg making it want to twitch (restless leg syndrome). I got up knowing that I had to walk it off. I went out to our patio/garage and walked in circles for 10 minutes and had a short conversation with God. He asked why I was in the Extreme Challenge and if I was doing it for him or to impress the people in the ministry or for myself? I think I was originally doing it for others, then it became a personal challenge, and that night God asked again and again, “Why can't you do it for me? Don't you think I could give you strength to do anything? Why not this too?” A bit ashamed I decided first to run the race the next day, and second to do it with every step giving glory to my God.
I woke up with a still-sore knee. Before the race was to begin we went to a women's breakfast where Fran, the wife of pastor Denny from River of God Church gave a talk about the secret place where we could find our lover and friend and with freedom and love be able to worship and pass the time with Him... God saw fit to bless me with a fresh revelation of His love for me, the special love of a Father who wants to protect me from everything and heal every hurt. I began to claim His love for me, first that it cover my spirit and strengthen my soul, then that it would fulfill my heart's desires for a love real, faithful and true, and then I claimed that same love for my body. In tears because my spirit was overflowing with that love and my heart was bursting with this revelation, I became aware of an intense desire to dance before Him and shout my love for Him. I can't explain what happened next, but I felt that if I stood up at that moment that there would be no pain. Fran's talk ended with an alter call for prayer as she felt an impartation of the spirit of grace and supplication would be in accord with God's will for us that morning. I stood up to move to the front and not only was there no pain, it didn't make that horrendous cracking sound and the knee cap felt oddly in a different place (apparently the correct place). I felt an odd cushion that seemed to be bracing my knee from the inside and preventing that pain. There was a short time of worship where I was able to dance for my Lord and His mercies that are new every morning.

I shouldn't leave out the small detail that as we ran (11 minute miles) for 2 hours, 45 minutes of the way climbing a short mountain, I was still praising him and claiming his love for me in a special way - that His love would sustain my body, give me energy, take away muscle cramps or shortness of breath. Most of the time I felt I was flying and as though I could run for days... not once did I have a problem with my knees! A song in my head kept the rhythm and pace from faltering: “Jesus' love never fails me.” The main detail that I want to leave you with is that THE GIRLS WON THE RACE! Though we were given a substantial head-start the prediction was that the boys would pass us and win. Praise God for faulty predictions!

As I mentioned in my last blog prophecy is a big deal here and we practice it often, many times simply to excersize our spirits in that way. It's amazing what God does when we allow Him to use our spirits to minister to others. The most recent development in my case is that God wants to test my responsibility. I want to explain something: I lost the keys to our house and the keys and locks all need to be changed if we don't find them, I misplaced my favorite nalgene bottle and have been without my regular 2 liter daily intake of water, I turned in my USB with homework on it and can't remember if they gave it back to me or if that too is missing. Part of my homework is that I have to give two interviews that a couple of times I've had the chance to do and didn't. A personal challenge our Extreme Challenge slave-driver gave me was a project or a meeting planned by me and followed through. I planned a separate-the-boys-and-girls meeting so that I could talk openly and honestly to the girls about their role as women of God. Because of the same race that we won in the afternoon we were late to the meeting and though I had the chance to call and report I didn't call the youth pastor with whom I had planned the whole thing. By pure grace we arrived in time for the last worship song and the meeting began and I was able to give my talk. To top it off I've been waiting to do my homework until the last hours before it's due and been faltering in the area of excellence that is expected of us. I forget at least one important article each day, be it a notebook, my art supplies, a jacket or my tennis shoes. Basically, if I wasn't humble about my ability to keep track of things, keep myself in order and control halfway complicated situations, I sure am experiencing it now.

The prophecy part came today. One of my classmates has been praying for me specifically for the past week and occasionally God has revealed some things to him for me that are really uplifting and encouraging. Today he approached and without an introduction said, “God has heard your prayer and wants to bless you with the desire of your heart, but first He needs to test your responsibility and you need to work on that in order to handle the blessing He wants to give you.” I've been praying about my role at Esperanza Viva and if I do stay where would my position be. My heart leans pretty far towards the older girls and I sometimes will say that I wish I could stay and be their supervisor.

Responsibility. The Word does say that when we come to Christ the old is gone and new has come... My prayer is that my old irresponsible and careless self be gone and discipline and responsibility become my trademarks.

These days...

First, I have to tell a story about a mountain. We are few that are still in the "extreme challenge," but we press on. Last Sunday after a mass baptism where I cried at least twice (32 or so people baptized in a giant plastic pool right next to a corral full of smelly cows), we packed up and left right after lunch to go climb the highest mountain in the state of Puebla. We drove for about 2 hours and arrived at the base of the mountain where they had planned also to camp out on top of a tarp (no tent). It was a little dirty but I thought, hey, no big deal, the rats aren't THAT big... So we laid out the tarp, everyone arranged their sleeping bags just so and put on their extra pair of socks as it was getting colder, and just when you think it's going to be a peachy camp-out, IT SNOWS. But I mean lighting-flashing, thunder cracking next to your eardrum, icy chunks of mountain 'snow' falling all over everything. We quickly covered everything with another tarp and went for refuge under a little ricketty building where they had previously been selling tacos. Under this roof we ate ramen noodles and waited out the storm. When it had calmed down we went to check out the damage and found a pile of slushy, wet, heavy snow where our tarp-tent used to be. Everything got wet.

Our solution was to take out the seats in the 2 vans and put them under the roof of the little ricketty building and sleep in the vans. We "slept" and had to wake up at 2am to start the climb upwards. We had all kinds of equipment... They've told me that the ministry is more than blessed and most of the stuff they have comes in donation-packages, the other lots of stuff comes from the family (apparently the pastor has family with moo-lah). We had alpinist climbing poles, the spikey foot-things that clamp onto your boots for when you get to glacier heights, and helmets with headlamps, ice picks -- the works.

We climbed for about 3 1/2 hours and came to a refuge in the middle of the mountain. The snow was deeper there and it was pretty much an incline with a little tiny carved out path the whole way up to this point. On the way we were blessed with the sight of a GIANT red and purple sky with a burning orange sun shining over the foggy mountainous horizon. Breathtaking (and not only because of the lack of oxygen).

Since my boots were wet and my feet frost-bitten, unfortunately I had to stay behind at the refuge as the others continued on. Two others stayed behind due to altitude sickness and (oops) we took advantage of body heat and made like sardines on the smelly camp-mats that are left there for the climbers. Almost crying because of cold feet and inability to sleep my friends Miguel and Aurora told me their life-stories. It was a bonding moment really...

The others didn't last too much longer and they tell me that no one made it to the glacier heights, but I was proud of Fabiola (teeny-tiny girl) who made it all the way to where the guides (pastor McNally and his son) decided to turn around. They turned around and when they made it back to the refuge (pooping and throwing up and whining about headaches) they found us in our sardine-position, poor, crying, almost-sleeping sardines, and immediately joined in (boys on one side and girls on the other). It was quite comical - maybe you had to be there.

We left, we came down the mountain, we ate and chatted on the way home. Around 6pm we arrived back to Cholula and had Josh (the son) drop us off at a "famous" family pizza place... I say "famous" because no one knows about it, but they make the BEST pizza Mexico has to offer. Tired, happy, and carrying 20lb packs and sleeping bags we returned to our house on foot to find no one was home and when they finally showed up we found the gas tank was empty (no hot water for showers)... Ahhhhhh Mexico. :)

I have to say that these days have been trying... There is a big fat rule here about no boyfriends and no going out together in "mixed" groups. Half of La Vina has left because my conscience couldn't take the pressure. While on the above mentioned trip we found out through a second-hand confession that 2 boys and 2 girls had gone to the movies together without permission. I found out on Tuesday and as I had heard that one of them was going to confess I gave her a day to do so. She didn't. Wednesday morning our leader, Rene, was even saying that if we're keeping secrets from them (the leaders) it's friendship in the flesh and we aren't being true brothers and sisters in the spirit if we allow them to break the rules. My conscience overtook me and I ended up saying to Rene that night at church, "find that girl and squeeze out information about what she did on Sunday." Instead of doing so, he squeezed it out of me. The next day all four of the evil-doers were packing to leave. We went from a measly class of 16 to 12. Truth be told, there is a profound sense of freedom, as though a weight has been lifted from La Vina.

Yesterday we had a class with Scott from a ministry in North Carolina called Morning Star. They are really in to the idea that everyone can profesy (1 Cor 14:31), and many of our excersizes have been focused on profecy (in other words, we've all been profesying over members of the church, over kids and leaders in the home, and over each other. This man came yesterday and told us to ask specifically for a spiritual experience (be it a dream, a vision, a visitation, etc). I wrote and prayed the rest of the day for a dream and specifically to be able to remember the details of that dream and that a spiritual being would appear and we would interact and have a conversation. When Scott went around the room asking what kind of experience we were going to pray for and he came to me, as I said it out loud a physical tingle came over my head, shoulders and chest, and he let out a "WooH! Did anyone else feel that? Wow." I didn't ask what it was he felt until after the class and he said he felt a tingling sensation (at the same time).

So last night I didn't have a dream. It was a bit crazier. I woke up a couple of times and the first two I fell back asleep praying for the dream again as I knew I hadn't dreamt anything. The third time I woke up I still had my eyes closed, but I could feel something in the room. I opened my eyes and moving just my eyes I looked around. I felt tense and tried to relax, but I couldn't. The presence continued in the room and I looked towards the door to the bedrooms where hangs a curtain and I saw a distinct light coming through the curtain. I suddenly felt a weird fear coming over me and tried to move. I couldn't move, my legs, arms and head felt like they were filled with sand or concrete. Not even a muscle could flex. The presence and the light continued and even though I was afraid to really see what it was (open my spiritual eyes) I said out loud, "show yourself!" I became more afraid and started thinking of all the times angels appeared in the Bible where they say "do not fear" and as I remembered them and declared them over me, the fear subsided and suddenly I felt the presence rush over my bed and the intensity of it was almost too much. It lasted a brief few moments and then left, and I fell back asleep.

This afternoon we had a profecy clinic where they began to profesy over the students... they told me that I would one day have a lot of responsibility in the Kingdom, that the road to my calling would be long and that I would have to be patient. Another confirmed it and said the most important thing now is that I rest in Him and wait on Him. One girl saw me as a sponge, that all that I'm learning now is being absorbed so that God will one day squeeze me out to affect other people.

After profesying over me they decided it was taking too much time to do it with just the leaders and they had those who had already been profesied over get up and start profesying over the left-overs. Holy cow, can I just say that the presence of the Holy Spirit in that room was way more than what I had experienced last night. I was constantly sensitive to the spirits of the others and constantly on the brink of tears, and God was telling me things about the people that only He would know.

The long awaited book-blog

PARAISO, TABASCO Mar 17-22
There is way too much to tell to do it chronically so I'll go through the highlights. We went to the state of Tabasco on a missions trip for 5 days. Rene, our leader maestro guy, said we're going with pure Bibles and with the intention of inviting the people in the community to the event that would be held at a campground that had a ceiling and a roof for a sanctuary and a ceiling and roof for a dining area and unfurnished cabins for dorms.

FAMILY IN THE ROAD:
The things that impacted me the most were first, that we stopped one family in the road as they were on their way back from the beach and in a panic for something to open with I said simply, “we're just here to tell people about the love of Christ.” I talked for a few minutes about the Gospel and at the end asked if they believed what I told them and all of them said yes: A man, his sister-in-law and their relative children amounting to a total of five people. We prayed with them the Prayer and blessed them and went on our way. It surprised me that it wasn't more spectacular than just those few moments of sharing, asking if they believed and wanted to ask Jesus to be a part of their lives, and after the short prayer that was it.

The next day the task was to distribute goods as the Tabascans had just experienced a hurricane disaster and were in need of basic goods. Since we stopped the family in the street we had to wander a while looking for their home, but it didn't take long. They weren't home, but we left the things with a message of blessings and a hope to see them at the event the next day. In the afternoon a woman showed up at the compound looking for me. She told me she was so excited, her husband had come home completely different saying he was going to change and things were going to be different from now on and he hugged her, told her the story he heard from me in the street and prayed the Prayer with her too. She was so excited and so grateful and full of peace that I became ashamed of the original thought that it wasn't spectacular. It was more than spectacular...

THE HOMOSEXUAL:
The next day a different family showed up to the events and in the morning at breakfast a gentleman approached me and asked if I would please talk to his son and try to intigrate him in our group. He had come with intentions of going to the beach, but his father wanted him to stay around. He said, “He's right over their in the yellow.” I looked and was surprised to find an obviously homosexual young man talking with some other young people. I was surprised to see him and wondered why he had come – a though which now I regret, because the proceedings were entirely of God.

I didn't get a chance to talk to him during the day, but I had promised his father that I would talk to him and Rene knew and encouraged me a couple of times to go and talk to him. Finally, at the last event of the evening I approached him and started with small talk. I think Rene must have mentioned something because others from the group came to talk to him as well. At the end of supper he had talked to some of the guys in the group and a couple of girls including myself and had poured out his heart and shared his story with everyone.

Later at the bonfire worship he came up and Fer, the worship leader, in the middle of the worship told us to find someone we don't know and pray for that person. I thought of him and almost chickened out, but I saw that one of the older ladies in our group had already gone up to him, so I went with her and as she encouraged him to share his problem he said immediately that he was gay – recognizing that it was not of God – and she prayed with him and he accepted Christ as his Savior. I was simply interceding the whole time, but I could have screamed glory to the heavens. Afterward he came to sit next to me at the bonfire and we talked until 2 a.m. We talked about his calling and stories of God pretty much manifesting himself to him throughout his life and childhood through dreams and visions, and various times at which he thought it was ridiculous that he continued to ignore God and he said, finally, this was his time. Praise God!

THE LIBERATION:
We had been visiting an older couple and they seemed hospitable and kind, but we reluctant to receive Christ as personal saviour, though the woman did pray the Prayer. We found out that her next door neighbor was her son who was often drunk. We decided that we should visit him too, and he apparently knew of our visits because he asked his mom to come with us if we decided to go talk to him. We found him and his two daughters in the house and he was very quiet, but sister Caro began to talk and talk about her testimony, sin, the price Jesus paid, the separation of man from God and many other things. The entire time, I was praying and observing his reaccion. He stared at the floor and I thought I noticed a struggle with emotion. When Caro finished with, “Do you believe and do you want Jesus in your life?” He nodded his head and as Gabriel began the Prayer, he broke down and accepted Him with all his heart. At the end of the prayer and in the midst of his tears, Gabriel began to pray for him at which time he began sobbing and started throwing up. It was clear that liberation from the bondage of alcohol and others came in a physical form. We prayed for another five minutes for complete liberation for him, his children and his home.

The next day we came to visit and his wife answered the door. It was clear from her expression that she wasn't impressed and said simply that she was grateful, and what happened to him was his deal and she would respect it, but didn't want to participate in it. It was clear that her mind was bound by Religion. I shared with her that I was in the same situation as she not too long ago, that I always said I believed in Christ etc, but I lacked a real relationship, which is the real reason why Jesus died for us, so that we could be true children of God. These words were met with rejection, but when finally the liberated man emerged from the bedroom he had a huge smile spread across his face and was so excited to see us again. As his wife continued to talk, his eyes went to the floor again and I realized that the spirit in her was dangerously close to oppression of her husband.

When we were about to leave I stopped him and encouraged him specifically that Jesus now lived in his heart and was always there to help him through difficulties. I also said that now that he carries the name of Christ that he had a responsibility of being a witness, the example to his family and that with that Name comes spiritual authority and power to maintain freedom for himself and his home. I think he understood, and I also told him that the best thing he could do was find a good pastor and start meeting with people who also have Christ as their Lord.
I was glad to see the whole family, all three generations, show up to the event. It was entertainment mostly, but there was a movie about the rapture and although long, got the point across about our heart's preparation for the coming of Christ.

~~

Aside from the stories of the people who found Jesus, I had several encounters with God and maybe by trying to communicate with words what God is doing in my heart, it won't seem like much, but for me with every new discovery comes a new me. I'm constantly changing and developing my relationship with my God.

COCONUTS AND PAPAYAS:
One experience was with a north wind that came over the campground and was blowing the sand everywhere and frustrating our day slightly, but I didn't really think of it as difficult since there was no rain. When we came back from dropping off the clothes and food that day we found the rest of our group huddled outside hiding from the wind and sand. They were at one side of the kitchen/dining building hacking away at coconuts with a rusty machete, drinking the cocowater and with “oranges” (that tasted more like limes – green outside and bright orange inside) that also grew on a tree nearby and chili powder they were eating the delicious fresh coconuts and raising a general ruckus and laughing and enjoying themselves. With thirty people in our group the dozens of fallen coconuts were depleting fast. Faby and I went to find some others and came back with only two after combing the ground for ripe ones. As soon as it looked like we had run out of good coconuts, God thought it would be a good idea – with all the wind rushing in from the north and nothing better to do until lunch time – to cause a gigantic palm tree to fall just near the santuary and bless us with ten or fifteen more fresh, ripe coconuts.

This doesn't seem like much, or at best it seems like a simple coincidence, but let me tell you the heart-process: I no longer believe anything happens without God, in other words, He has his hand in every situation. I realize now that when life goes wrong and we're disappointed or hurt or wounded by other people, it's God saying, “Why don't you just come to me? Why don't you want to trust me with your life, I only want to love you with everything that I have to give!” I'm realizing that as Romans 8 says (a passage that seems to persue me wherever I go) that there is no reason why He wouldn't give us everything if He's been proven willing to give us His only Son. So, in the coconut incident, an event that I believe came directly from the hand of God, I thought and continue to think to myself, “It's way too much to think that my God who loves us SO much that nothing is overlooked, He wants us to enjoy the gifts of His creation so much that he would think to plan for a simple tree to fall and bless His children who were out working for the advancement of the Kingdom. I thank Rene for the reminder to contemplate these simple things to really appreciate the gifts from our loving God.

A similar situation was the ten-hour trip home we didn't have a lunch packed or planned. Rene was in a hurry as we all were so we didn't stop for hardly anything besides bathroom and gas, but soon we became tired, crabby and hungry. We stopped for food, but ended up still hungry after chips and water. We stopped again after four hours or so at a gas station and I saw just at the edge of the station a tree. Aurora had pointed it out. We noticed that there were fresh papayas growing on it and after Aurora's hesitation and my insistance, we went and I climbed on her shoulders to pick the giant, yellow, ripe, juicy, sweet papaya. We took it to the water hose to wash it and as we looked up we saw another tree with another giant, yellow, ripe, juicy, sweet papaya growing on it. We went for it, washed it and enjoyed the simple provision from God on the bus. I sat for two hours in complete wonder at the love of a God who puts coconuts and papayas (His creation!) in our way to enjoy it in a time of need or simply because he wants us to enjoy life! This is the God we serve! This is the love He wants us to experience every day! I'm so full of love for Him and so full of a desire to serve Him forever, come what may, and just because of a few coconuts and a papaya...

1000 years later, the biography of Emily

The blog you've all been waiting for (take a deep breath and set aside an hour):

To start off, this is probably the number one hardest thing I've ever done in my life. The homework kills us, and I'm stuck with 6 girls who don't understand that being late means “castigo” (punishment). The other night we were all up until 12am studying and doing homework, the next day we arrived at the group devotional at 8:02am. Devotional time is when we are supposed to turn in homework, they didn't accept it. I cried like a big blubbering baby and they didn't pay me any attention. I think the McNally family has been through too much to care about sensitive wieners like myself. I got over it pretty quickly, that's the joy of our devotional. It started out with one of the guys sharing that we have to be faithful in the little things. I thought to myself, “crying about homework isn't really trusting in God for this little thing.” Although the stress of that day only grew, my attitude definitely changed, I apologized for crying, and later that day, the headmaster of the school said with a Grr, “I'll accept all your homework, but your grades will be severly affected by the tardiness, for which you've been warned before.” Strangely enough, this didn't help the stress factor, or improve my already-calmed-down mood.

My favorite days are Wednesdays and Sundays. Wed is a day that we don't have gym and we get to go to Naciones (the church), for Wed service. It's also fasting day and the heaviest work-load day what with homework and “ministries” they call it, which is basically where they put us to work washing the tops of the classroom tents, the insides of the buses, or the mess tent. Otherwise we usually end up babysitting and giving the regular supervisors a few hours of breaktime from the rugrats. Around 6 someone yells, “VAMONOS!” and we all pile on the bus, students, supervisors, rugrats, and everyone in between and head to the church.

The last two Wednesdays were special. First they asked me to be an intercessor during the service, which means I sit in one of 4 intercessor chairs positioned strategically around the edge of the sanctuary and intercede for the liders, for the congregation, for the worship team, for anything and everything invlolved in the ministry. So cool! The Spirit of God here is so evident in the answers to prayer here, and not only with the success of the ministry, but with the simple things. They pray for provision, but they don't just sit around and wait for it to fall from the sky... but that's a story about a Saturday, not a Wednesday. The second super-cool Wednesday was when they invited me to intercede again! But I couldn't and instead I worked behind the counter of the little “tienda” (snack bar) and got to meet and greet and schmooze with half the congregation. I've been working on building on my courage when it comes to talking to strangers.
Sundays are special for me because we get to sleep in a tad, and then go to Naciones where I get to either play with the kids in the yard, the babies in the nursery, or the little kids (the most difficult) upstairs. Then we go back to the Home and eat lunch with everyone, that is, if we don't have an evangelizing outing. We did that last week. After cleaning up the church we ate there and then they took us to Balcones or Santa Clara (two neighborhoods close to each other) and dropped us off and two by two we went looking for fresh candidates to witness the Word of Life to.

I ended up getting really into it, and by some leading in my spirit decided we were looking for a girl who was just hanging out on her doorstep. It was a dead Sunday with nearly no one in the street, but 2 blocks later, we found her, 14, standing outside the home of her aunt. We started talking to her and found out that she was Christian and went to a small church of about 23 members. I also found out that her family was Christian, but that her father was not and she was the only one, as far as she knew, praying for her father's salvation. Then her aunt came outside, who just happened to be a member of Naciones (our church), and unfortunately has the idea that her calling is evangelism, but she has never evangelized in her neighborhood, nor to her own family. Before coming out to evangelize in the first place, we prayed that God would send us sicknesses that we could pray for, and soon after the aunt emerged, her son also stepped out onto their porch. He had a neckbrace on and a stand-offish attitude, but still hung around for the conversation about evangelism and reaching family and community for Christ. My partner might have forgot that we prayed for a chance to pray for healing, and was about to say good-bye when I interrupted and asked if we could pray for the aunt's son. We asked him if he was a Christian and he said something like, he used to be, but with a wounded sort of tone. So we started praying for his neck and my partner started praying for spiritual healing, at which point he became emotional. As we left the house soon after that, the 14-year old girl came running after us and with a desperate sort of look, asked if we thought her dad would become a Christian. We explained to her the concept of being a witness within the family and the importance of prayer, which even her aunt, who goes to our church, didn't seem to understand fully. We prayed for her there in the street and I'm hoping beyond hope that she was encouraged to continue her pilgrimage for her father.

Then there are Saturdays. Remember I said the ministry prays for provision, but they don't just sit around waiting for it? One of the practical ways they go about their week is every morning on Saturday they go to the farmer's market, which is a huge warehouse compound with thousands of veggie vendors, and simply ask for donations. Correction: they send the students with a few of the kids from the Home to ask for donations. We have to wake up at the buttcrack of dawn to get there in time for people to feel especially generous as their supply of veggies and fruits is still plump and overflowing. Luckily there is a random candy store in the middle of it all and they also feel generous sometimes for the orphans and give us big packages of bubble gum. It's so much fun to see the blessings of God roll in because we aren't afraid to say, “A hundred kids need food, help us out?” I was amazed at the quality and sheer volume that some of the vendors gave. We came away with 8 crates of fruits and veggies and 1 full crate of chickens (kinda gross, but a blessing nonetheless).

Saturdays also usually consist of a challenge from our “Extreme Challenge” manager, Josue. The last two Saturdays were the most difficult so far. First we did a mini biatholon, 50km bike ride up and down hill with the wind of the countryside blowing at our side, and running the rest of the way. About 5 hours of grueling workout. Yesterday (also a Saturday) they took us to a river canyon and said, “Lead us to the dam!” Battling against paths that led to the sheer canyon wall, “bridges” made of twigs and stones, climbing up the side of the canyon and down again to avoid having to swim through suspect-looking waters, and a “team” that has it's own problems... 10.5 miles and 7 hours 20 minutes later we climbed up out of the canyon with one or two close-calls and a couple of splinters and scratches. It was wonderful!

Today has been my only day that I've had two seconds to myself (I apologize to those who anxiously await my blogs -mommy) because I'm sick! I've had the trots since this morning at 3am and another one of the girls has a severe cold and thank-goodness can't talk because of her throat. They sent a babysitter and made one of the other girls stay home from church/evangelizing today. They are big on rules and keeping things supervised and under control. I'm definitely learning to let go of that independent spirit that I came here with! They emphasize sumbission and leadership and how even the Heavens are governed by an hierarchy (the Kingdom of God, Prince of Peace, servants and slaves of Christ, etc). I really should be doing homework or napping or taking some imodium, but I've been dying to write for a while now...
There are 16 of us total in the class this year. I'm pretty sure God had this semester specially designed for each one of us. I told one of the girls (who speaks nearly perfect English), Aurora, that God knew her and I would end up there together because he knew that I would need someone to talk to when I was tired and frustrated – a.k.a. Unable to utter two words of sense in spanish. She has been more than a blessing, a literal Godsend. Fabiola reminds me a lot of my sister, she is patient and doesn't like to complain even though EVERYTHING irks her. She doesn't like the orphans hanging around her, but will help them with their giant boogers or personal problems, and she'll also feed me breakfast in bed when I'm sick with the trots! (Also, she has a HUGE mouth! :) Leidy -pronounced, “lady”- is the young mommy who recently became a Christian through her ex-boyfriend's mother. She left her 2-year old baby to come learn servanthood, but most of the time you wouldn't guess that she's a mommy – 20 years old, 5'2” or so with the attitude and actions of a flirty teenager. Sandy is Leidy's special companion who also takes 4 hours in front of the mirror to get ready every morning, and that's all I really know about her. That's a strike against me, since we're also roomies. The other girls are sometimes a mystery to me. Gladys is 32 and talks to herself and sings a lot at awkward moments and Erika is the 19 year-old Poblana who relates more to the 15 year-olds at the Home rather than her Vina companions. My favorite is our in-home supervisor (also known as, Mama), Ita. She is younger than most of us, shy as a jellybean, and soo cute! She's easy to talk to, you just have to talk to her first. She's very sweet, understanding and funny.

The boys, I can't say much about them other than their names and that half of them came from a rehabilitation “Rancho.” The older ones are the most annoying, only because the one talks about being the oldest and how he should have authority and/or privelege, but in class and other situations his maturity level is that of a 14 year-old (a smarty-pants, know-it-all, attitude-y, laughs out loud disrespectfully), and the other one must have never spoken to another human being before in hiswhole life because now we're all desperately trying to find the “off” button for his run-on sentences and one-sided conversations. The other guys are cool for the most part, they are all dealing with pride and verguenza (shyness? Embarassment) simultaneously. Some of our assignments are to pray or talk in front of the congregation, and the funny gringa girl can do it with a giant shove from a movement of the Holy Spirit, but the other guys who LOVE attention within the group and talk all the time about what God is doing in their lives, won't do it, even with the shove. I asked Juaquin why not, and he said something about not feeling worthy to speak in front of people (he still harbors a little pride in his past life, he's one of the guys from the Rancho). I told him my story about not feeling worthy and finding that it's one thing to ask for forgiveness by the Blood of Christ and a whole other thing to surrender your past and forgive yourself once you've been truly convicted for the icky-ness of your sin. I can be forgiven by God and still walk around like people will judge me for who I used to be.

As you can see, I'm still learning the elementary things in this Christian world, but they are obviously highly necessary for me to grow in character in Christ. I'm definitely learning to be a servant and learning to deal with the little things like no water in our house for 4 days, no hot water for 2 weeks, and the same food involving some hot chili pepper or a tortilla or beans or pasta EVERYDAY. Yesterday they gave us old fruit and it was a treat. :)

I'll leave you all in luxury-land with that last thought. I hope this was informative and also a blessing. I pray for everyone as often as I can and I'm realizing that I need to send postcards or something special, so if you want one or can think of someone who would love to get one, send me addresses!

Love and blessings from your long-lost _______.

Reto Extremo = Extreme Challenge

Where to begin... my day today started before the day did. I'll have to explain: they sent us home yesterday after relaxing the whole day, doing devotions, worship, and listening to Jerry talk and talk and talllllllllk :), which was fun since we all had a billion questions for him. I fell asleep around 11pm and in the middle of REM sleep I hear a *BuZZ *BuZZ then a rukus and then I'm being pushed out of my bed, glancing at the clock I see it's 12:30am. I shook my clock a little to see if it was broken and then heard: "5 minutes to get out the door!"

When I get out to the street, I see the guys in the group at our door along with the ministry leader and our "extreme challenge" trainer (Jerry's son). When all the girls came out to meet them, we began a 30 minute run down dark streets and around the corners and through the neighborhoods and pausing only once for jumping jacks and military-style push-ups we arrive finally at the top of a bridge where at the bottom is a really dead-looking deer-type animal... I spit off the edge of the bridge and our trainer says non-chalantely... "ok, let's go back to bed."

You'd think, wow, what a long day - they probably won't make them do anything to difficult when they wake up at 6am, huh?

WRONG.

We eat breakfast and by 8am we were on a bus to the base of a Big Hill that we had to climb with backpacks (mine with all my homework and two Bibles and a Nalgene bottle full of water), and a very heavy odd item, like a tire, a weight, a chain, a brick, and a big giant 50- pound cross. The point, of course, being that we had to learn to work as a team and help each other up a hill without dissention or division... uhh, we failed that one. On the way back down, we got the point and stuck together, offered help and did all that a team is supposed to do.

Tomorrow is laundry day-slash- baby sitting day at the orphanage. All the staff is going to a conference at the church and we get to stay and be in charge. It'll be great! My favorite thing to do is play with the little girls... jump rope, etc. :)

06-02-07

I'm too tired to write much today... We were darn busy that's all I gotta say. Everyday we have to wake up before dawn to get ready and clean the house and eat if we want to, then we have to walk about 15 blocks to the house where our 2-hour morning devotional is held with all the young people (and some not-so-young) from the school. Yesterday it was gimnasio day. Josh, one of the pastor's kids, is IN SHAPE. He took us for an intro run about 30 blocks from the mission complex to a futbol field. We ran most of the way there, then did sprints once we arrived, then ran around the field a few laps, then did push-ups the hard way (I thought), then we did some abdominal/leg thing that left us all heaving for the air that smelled like poopy dust. Mmmmmm... poopy dust...

Anyway, just like every week we will have physical training we will also have spiritual training: a weekly fast, which I understood to be a denial of breakfast and lunch, but today they said why not skip supper too!? So, I'm hungry, exhausted, sore and HUNGRY for more!

God has already showed me so many things that I can hardly keep them straight. And then when one thing he shows me collides with another the next day, my heart does a little skip and a beat and I have but to praise Him... if only I had the energy. It was really hard to concentrate on things today. My spanish was worse than ever and I got more than one giggle out of people for my gringo slip-ups, but hey! I say it's all part of the trial. By the end of this mission I'll be fit as a fiddle, looking for God-work, and speaking spanish like a native poblana, tijuanense, tabasquena vera cruzena, and who-knows-where else-ana. These kids come from all over the country! I'm the only outsider, but I really think, with God's help and with His will in accordance, that I could do a lot to help advance the ministry. I hear lots of people think the same thing, they get involved and then find out there is too much red tape or a hierarchy that doesn't easily allow big change in the routine.

Aside from all that, I love being here. I love the people... by the way, Nancy, I got your message! I'm doing great! :)

Today was easy again. I think they're waiting until we get used to the place... they must know it's not normal compared to every other normal part of the world. We already have a homework assignment. We're reading a book by Steve Thompson called “All of you can prophesy.” I'm not halfway through it yet and I already feel that God wants to show me something huge. I feel that I'm resisting though. I think I might be a little afraid of what He wants to show me. Not that I think He would have me do something that would hurt me in any way, but that He might lead me down a drastic path. That adventure that everyone talked about in youth groups – it must be true. If you're going to follow God and do whatever He wants you to without question, He's inevitably going to take you places you never imagined. I'm already thinking a lot about the spiritual aspect of this trip, which is the only aspect that we are focused on, and how resisting will hinder progress. Mom always talked about my “spiritual man” and I think here is where he is going to awaken and kick me in the pants since the alarm clock already went off years ago.

I admit I come here in a state of shame. I know for sure that this state of mind doesn't come from God, and I know for sure that even the leader of the first Christian church stumbled. I have to thank God over and over again since the mistakes I make are automatically forgiven once confessed. I CONFESS!!! I failed God one more time and He somehow finds it in his unconditional-loving heart to forgive me one more time. I simply can't understand why. My little brain and my extremely weak spirit try and try to grasp and understand His love.... to no avail.

In any case, I can tell God is working on my heart in little ways. You know what they say: admitting you have a problem is half the battle, right? Well, I have 5 billion problems... I'll talk about today for example. Yesterday they gave us a piece of paper and each one had a phrase or just a couple of words on it. Mine said, “I will always help you,” and when we did the activity, after searching for the answer the night before, I decided in the last moments of the next morning to think about it. Help. What about help does God want to make clear to me? Then, in the afternoon, I remembered a conversation I had with Juana on the bus. I told her that I had a little monster inside me called independence. I simply want to do everything myself. I don't want help and I don't want direction and I don't want people to tell me how to do things. I even mentioned that maybe this will kill the little monster inside me... or make it grow. In that moment, as I was remembering the conversation I thought to myself, I have a choice: I can resist, I can hang onto my independence and I can continue thinking that I don't need anyone; or I can surrender, I can recognize that I need God's help, that everything I try to do on my own is fruitless and ends in failure, and I can accept His hand and grow. One of these choices will kill this little monster, and the other will obviously make the little monster the modern-day Godzilla.
Then, before we all met together again to do the activity, I talked to D who went to the conference last week with so many expectations. I didn't say anything at the time, but when he first told me about waiting for something huge, I first feared that he would start talking about leaving E.V. Then I thought, passively, I think he just might not have the experience he's hoping for... He didn't. And he told me that even though he was waiting for the great revelation, it didn't come until the next day or a few days later when he spoke to one of the missionaries that was sent out from E.V. This man sat down with him and heard D tell him he was frustrated because he hadn't heard from God. The missionary thought about it and said, “You asked for God to challenge you... this is your challenge: trust Him.”

So, at the gathering where we shared all our little pieces of paper and what God had told us, boy did I have a story. First that I'm recognizing one of the billions of problems that I'm going to for sure discover here, and second the answer: open my spirit to Him and TRUST Him.

challenge #1

So far life is still normal – by that I mean the world still revolves around the axis and there is still a hole in the ozone layer that worries everyone till they get the trots – La vina is really something else, and they haven't even started in on us yet. Apparently the whole point of coming here was to learn not only about the Bible and learning how to preach and minister, but to scrub toilets, floors and get many many bouts of gas and diarrhea. No really, that hasn't happened to me so far, but they tell me that I will have to clean toilets and wash nasties all week long and that's enough to make my stomach lurch.... I've pretty much gotten used to eating practically out of garbage cans since last spring, so getting sick really doesn't enter my mind as a full-on worry-worthy thing.

Apart from the work, there are rules. LOTS of rules. I mean 3 pages full of 10-font 1. 2. 3. rules. And at the end of many of them it says, “if you can't adhere to the rule, we reserve the right to kick your butt out on the street and take all your money.” Well, maybe that's a bad translation (everything here, remember, is in spanish), but all the same, it was pretty heavy duty.
At this moment I have a little piece of paper above my bunk that says “I will always help you.” They didn't really explain what it meant, it's kind of a game I think that they play with the newbies. We are simply to pray about whatever our little papers say (everyone's is different) and know that God wants to tell us something through the short phrase found there... I read the paper three times, I still have yet to pray about it, right now I'm on my way to bed to do just that... I'm excited to write again and let you know what the result was. Apparently we're doing some sort of activity all together afterward.

I should say that everyone that I have been “stuck with” so far has been nothing short of a blessing. All the girls in the house are A) super nice B) super varied – we have a 19 year-old and a 32 year-old and one of them even has a 2 year-old waiting for her at home! And for some reason everyone gets along... so far.

I just want to mention my first challenge of the day. They told us before service (as it is Sunday today) that they didn't want us to form clicks and sit all together during service, but we are supposed to make ourselves part of the congregation and that means meeting everyone you possibly can. Since Spanish is my second language I have a complex that sometimes makes me shy (this adjective may as well also be known as the antithesis of Emily). At first the safest thing to do was sit down with one of my favorite little munchkins and after small talk with a 6 year-old I looked up and saw a family with three girls just about my age ... maybe a little younger ... so I said to the munchkin that I would sit with her but I wanted to say hello to those people “over there.”

I said hello, I think the mother's name was Rosalinda or something... but I met a girl named Sharon and her sisters (the second of which was Ruth) and talked to all of them, the whole family, for about 15 minutes, which is a friggin' long time when you're shy, but I have to say that I simply loved – yes loved – every one of them. They are loving, smiling, welcoming... and they turned me instantly into a loving, smiling, welcoming person. A little hurdle but one that I really needed to clear.

leave it all behind

I'm getting tired... I'm really getting sick (I think its a sore throat), but mostly I'm getting sick and tired. Some revelations come in weird packages... this time it was in the form of a Mexican. My gripe this week has been good-byes. This is not new news to those of you who have read my blogs before. I've mentioned the red stain on my sleeve that keeps getting bigger and bigger with each time I have to turn my back on it all. There are some people I meet that I think I've known forever. My heart - pearched precariously on that sleeve - decides that that person is worth my time, affection and attention, regardless of how I might feel in the inevitable end. Chunks of my heart are scattered all over latin-america, a trail of love-blood with my DNA going from city to city. I'm not talking about falling in love... I'm talking about the person that crosses your path with nothing more than a smile and a song and your hooked, I'm talking about the city that makes you feel like you were supposed to have been born there instead, I'm talking about the feeling you get when you fit... You want that person's friendship, conversation and company; you want to move your life to that city; you never want to leave that feeling behind. My issue is that when it happens to me I like to overdose on all of the above... I meet a person and I douse myself in their company and conversation, I like a city and I take it to the ultimate level and move there, I fit with someone or someplace and just as I'm deciding that this is finally it, another chunk of my heart drops off my sleeve and lands in another place and I leave the last bloody pile of chunks behind and that heart - hanging in ribbons of shredded time and effort - says, "I want to stay, but I simply can't."

4:30a.m. and nowhere to go

I always wondered why some of my friends said they couldn't sleep simply because they had a lot on their minds. Tonight, the wondering stops. I have a lot on my mind and I can't sleep. I've tried getting tired, I've tried changing the subject in my brain, I've tried MSNing till 2:30... I've even tried exercising! Nuthin.

What's on my mind you say? In a word, everything; in a few words, really only two things: Argentina and Mexico. It's like a book I can't put down! I stimulate my brain with one chapter (Argentina) and then just when I think I've exhausted the thought, I move on to the next chapter (Mexico) and the cycle continues for hours! I've been thinking in my head why I was so disappointed with Buenos Aires, because I thought that I was... and now I can't bring myself to think of more than one lousy reason: I was lonely. Worst of all, I was lonely and I made the wrong friends in the beginning and I ended up wandering the city some days for hours wollowing in self-pity while convincing myself that I could have a great time alone.... the loneliness was relieved once in a while, mostly at around 10:30p.m. every night after the month of May. In short, I didn't give it a chance! I feel bad about it and now I'm finding myself fantasizing about a return visit and doing it "right" this time... I can't help but think that most fantasies stay in their fantasy stage forever, but then, some don't. I feel like a teenager.

Then I think of Mexico. That lovely city for which I will trade Buenos Aires for a time, Puebla. I daydream about perfect spanish (ha!), the kids and I playing dominoes, me suddenly learning to sing or play piano for church, improving as a person, which according to my last post should be a high priority...

I realize now that my love for Mexico won't change if I think Buenos Aires was probably the best time of my life so far... I think in the beginning I felt like I was "cheating" on Mexico, but now I understand that Mexico is more like my grandmother, she will always be there and no matter what I go through in life I'll always come back for her. Argentina is a lot like a Summer love... pretty much unforgettable.

know anything about psychiatry?

I didn't even spell that right... goes to show how much stock I put in them horse feathers. I don't know how to say this without sounding somewhat like ...mmm, a tonta. I feel there are many things in life that are worth devoting one's entire life to, things that one should even innately feel drawn to devoting themselves to: a church, a best friend, God, a spouse, a family, a house surrounded by green lawns and a dog perched on the porch... these things are burned into our brains as natural, as only-human, as necessary! Who am I to think myself above such things? I'll tell you who, a nobody. I'm sitting here knowing that a good chunk of my life will be spent in Mexico, just like it was spent in Argentina, Chile, Bolivia, Peru, and many other places in between... and do you know who I'm thinking about? ME. I'm supposed to be going because I feel that this is my calling in life and all I can think about is how it will all affect me, how I'm scared, how I maybe won't make a friend, how scared I am of my meager spanish skills, and how botched it will get by country grammar...

This issue of pride is something not to be toyed with. I feel that our good pastor Darling has a thing or two to say about that, and before him another man of God who said, in so many words, that if you can't commit, you are no less than a selfish, self-seeking, self-centered, prideful schmuck. I think he may have omitted the "schmuck" part, but all the same he was describing me. I can't keep a friend, I can't keep a church, I can't put down my self-pity long enough to pick up the slack around the house! I can't even muster up enough heartstrings to miss my own mother when I'm away for 7 months.... I think I deserve a better word than "schmuck."

Needless to say, I know that jumping down my throat will only cause me to choke and that vivid image can hardly be described as helpful. My friend S. who left our humble cities today is one of the people I could always count on for stable, honest, opinionated advice. I think if he were here right now, he'd tell me to shut up.

Maybe I'll do just that. I'll shut up, suck it up, chew on it, sleep it off, and do all the other things that if you really think about it, don't amount to anything that looks like an actual action, grammatically speaking. Well, I made one decision I know I'm going to stick to even if my toenails turn blue... I'd talk crazy but I don't want you people to think I've gone nuts. Who I am may not be the pack of peaches the doctor ordered, but I'll tell you one thing, Who God is juices the orange, He takes the cake, He makes strawberrys and cream look like curdled stinky cheese! I may be a nobody, but one day I'll screw on my head straight and see that nobody is a somebody. Call me a pessimist --- you pessimists may call me a realist.

Despite all that, if my sources are correct, I'm pretty sure nobodies usually became somebodies when they turned to God. Look at that famous David character! You know the one, the guy who hung out in the fields treading the lawn fertilizer of dirty animals and strumming his harp for all the livestock willing to listen, the one who's dad thought he was to twerpy to make it to town for that prophet guys' ball. Some of his smaller accomplishments were killing animals with few things besides a string and a rock, killing a giant with said "weapon," oh yes, he also became one of the most powerful kings in all of history... all because he was a man after God's own heart.

What are we after? What the hell am I after? The answer is painfully obvious in my painfully evident obscurity and lack of skill as a normal human being: I'm after me.

Clear Ambiguity

With S. visiting, Mexico looming, preparations awaiting, and fretting abounding, this past week has been a real adventure. Because of my severe lack of faith in myself I have done my best to not find myself alone with S. It's too painful -- mostly it's too painful to see his pain. I know why he's here, I know that there are some things that I should have shouldered as the breaker-upper and I failed him in that respect... but in my defense there were few alternatives and I followed my conscience and made a sound decision based on legitimate feelings. I've recently been struggling with the idea that things should never have developed the way that they did in Ar... I know that S. has changed, and grown, and he showed me what a man can be. I know that I learned far more in those few months than I have in many years of my life. No. I cannot say that I wish it didn't happen. I may not have made the decisions I've made, I may not have become the woman I am, I may not have found my calling if I I had not known S., if I had not loved him.

I heard that he feels that being the man he has shown me has only got him hurt and he may give up the profession of being nearly amazing to avoid feeling that hurt again. I have to say that if that were the case, and he became a different person than the kind, loving, hilarious, sometimes hot-tempered, generous man that I came to know, my heart might break all over again. If that is his revenge, to put aside his goodness forever, it would be complete indeed.

Philippians 4:6,7

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

I don't think there could be a more aggravating, more promising verse in the Bible... It has been a frustrating and surprising last few days. I chose to wait on God, I chose to be patient, I chose to guard my heart with this verse, clinging like there were no tomorrow to this promise of peace if I simply take hold of a promise and pray and present my requests to Him.

I was surprised by the unannounced arrival of S. from Argentina. I didn't know how to handle the situation, and I confess that I still don't... I pray for grace and for the wisdom that will necesarily have to come with this surprise. I also pray that I will stay committed in body, mind and spirit to the covenants I have lately sealed with my God. I cling to the Word of God as Truth and I pray that His promised peace will come and confirm my every hope and slay my every fear...

I have lately committed my fate regarding Mexico to Him as well. Everything will fall into its rightful place if it be the will of Him who knows my purpose here. The voucher will come in time to buy the last ticket to Puebla, S. will find the closure he needs, Friday will bring the good news of my acceptance to the school, and so many more hopes will be realized --- but only by the Hand that loves me and wants me to fulfill my purpose for breathing on this earth.