Ordinary Radicals

"God disturbs the comfortable and comforts the disturbed." -Shane Claiborne

I recently finished "The Irresistible Revolution" by Shane Claiborne at the recommendation of a friend. Such an incredible book. NOT a safe book. But beautifully challenging nonetheless.

It gave me the opportunity to acknowledge the places where I've become too comfortable. To look them square in the face and squirm. And to fall on my face (literally) crying out for a renewal of my heart. Several times I set the book on the floor and let myself weep because what he was talking about was so overwhelmingly beautiful.

Real community. Real fellowship. Real love.
being the face of Christ starting in our own backyards.

ordinary radicals...getting down to the roots of what it means to be Christian disciples.

It really made me look at what I might cling to that would keep me from abandoning my nets so to speak to follow unabashedly after "The Homeless Rabbi." I thought about dreams and hopes for the future. My dream for that someday when the Lord brings a man after His own heart to pursue me. A lifetime of growing deeper in love. Living adventurously. A dream for children. Our children. The desire to share with them the experience of this incredible world, its people, its cultures, its beauty. A home-not a large one-but one that is comfortable.

There's that word again. Comfortable. These dreams are not necessarily bad, in fact, God may very well want to bless me with family and home someday. But there's a tension inside me that wants comfort and is afraid of what God might require of me should I abandon all for His sake. A tension that knows He doesn't promise an easy road that measures up to the values of this world; he promises to care for us and use us to further His kingdom.

And yet, despite that human part of me that wants to be safe, I want desperately to abandon it all for the love of the Son. To see what plans He has for me if I'll only get myself out of the way. Decrease that He might increase.

I was thinking of the nature of "provision." What exactly is it? How much of what I "need" is rooted in reality? And how much is corrupted by a society telling me what I "need"? Whew...I'll be real...my pride takes a massive blow when I honestly follow that train. I enjoy giving and giving generously. I love to manage my money wisely. I love to bless and be a blessing. I truly truly LOVE it. And yet, if God asked me to give up my cushion of financial safety, to give it all away to the poor like the rich, young ruler...If He asked me to give the money I'm saving for a Nikon digital SLR camera, would I be able to do it without reservation? Would I give it all with a joyful heart? And there's definitely a balance to be struck in that we should live a life of stewardship with our resources. But what is my motivation? Am I operating in my God-given gifts in a limited capacity by still caring for myself before others? Are my strengths being developed for kingdom purposes, or am I just riding a wave of natural knack or ability to keep myself comfortable? Am I robbing others of God's blessings flowing through me in an attempt to be "safe"? Am I damming up his grace to create a personal reservoir of "comfort"?

What am I clinging to so tightly that God can't use it for His glory?
What kind of person is my pride and selfishness keeping me from becoming?

It's uncomfortable when we have to look at the ugliness in our hearts. It's never fun to be reminded that I am not as good a person as I thought. But, Lord, keep me from ever being satisfied with the status quo. Humble me as often as it takes. Keep me hungry...seeking after you with fire and passion that I might be refined into a woman after your own heart. A lily among thorns.

Father, I want people who hear my words, see my actions, and my choices to say "Now that's the Jesus I want to follow." Give me the strength to hold loosely to my things, my comforts, and my dreams...even the good ones...and to cling desperately to you. To cleave to your heart, your people, and your dreams. Keep me from being too comfortable. Keep me from limiting how you can work and move by deciding before hand what it should look like. I want to see lives transformed.

I want to be a woman of God who loves scandalously.

Mexico Mission: Saturday

Departure.
Return to life-as-I-know-it: Changed.
Aware.

Miscellaneous Memories

Mexico Mission: Friday

What a treat to explore the capital city of Mexico. There is such a strong sense of culture here, and it is beautiful to experience it. Part of me battles the feeling that we are wasting a day sightseeing that could be spent serving where we are needed. A big part of me, in fact. But I was encouraged to think of it as an opportunity to embrace all this country has to offer and to receive in addition to giving.

Rapidly, I was enamored with the history of this place. The National Cathedral, the ruins of the Templo Mayor (Great Temple of Tenochtitlan), the Zocalo. Group dynamics can be interesting. I could care less about making it to our restaurant early when there are still museums to be explored and signs to read. Adjustment of expectations.

For dinner we ate at the iconic Cafe Tacuba, a converted convent. Mariachis and mole. I was a happy girl.

Sights of Mexico City

Mexico Mission: Thursday

Last day in Xoxocotla. A shortened one.

We saw some of the same people come back for second helpings of vitamins and pin worm medication! Others that didn't get seen yesterday due to the long lines. We had a family of Nauhatl indians. Only the young mother spoke Spanish, the grandparents and children spoke only an ancient Aztec dialect that was not even remotely similar to Spanish!



The church had a huge party for us last night. Lots of speeches and prayers. Beautiful gifts presented to everyone. I felt so blessed in the midst of everything. What a gift from them to us, especially considering that a couple in the local church lost their very sickly, 3 month old baby earlier in the week. Joy in the face of mourning.



I still feel like I haven't connected with God the way I expected. Perhaps my eyes simply aren't open enough to see the face of Christ in each and every person I encounter. I think also God is teaching me to be open to Him and HIS expectations. To stop projecting the way I think things should be.

Help me to see and feel you everywhere, Lord. To be open and surrendered to you and your vision for each and every situation.

Mexico Mission: Wednesday

Today we setup for two days of clinic in the local school of Xoxocotla. The standards of the facilities were low compared to even the poorer schools in the states: cracked glass windows, dirty concrete, rickety desks. But there were roofs and it is a place for children to learn. That is better than nothing. We walked right through the local marketplace to get there. Piles of fruit, fresh and rotting. Bundles of taquitos. Ropes of fried, cinnamon-sugar coated dough. Tortillas. Gorditos. Raw, plucked chickens with their feet raised awkwardly in the air in feeble surrender to rigor mortis. Flies sampling the wares everywhere. And people: talking, walking, laughing, pushing wheelbarrows, playing, selling, buying.



It was supposed to be our busiest day, but apparently there was a mandatory meeting for anyone receiving government aid for school, so that eliminated a lot of people. Still, many came through, patiently waiting their turn. Beautiful babies and wee tots. One little 11-month old girl, Paloma Rubi, with the biggest, blackest, most beautifully inquiring eyes I have ever seen. She was so alert, watching Dad like a hawk, curious to know what was going on! Lots of diabetics and high blood pressure cases...a few previously undiagnosed. There is so much chronic illness. Can they even afford the constant medication they require to avoid the complications associated with each disease?

We had lunch at the house of one of the local church members. It's a lesson in humility to accept such generosity from people you know do not have much.

Lavish like grace.

Mexico Mission: Tuesday

Today we set up in the neighborhood village of Miguel Hidalgo. There was a doctor at this little clinic, but he had no medicines to distribute. How frustrating that must be as a professional. When we got there, he was pouring bleachy water of the concrete, open air rooms and rickety metal benches to get everything ready! Welcomed and disinfected! Thanks, Lord!

We became the local event of the day. People seemed to simply come and stay for the day. Carts drove up and began selling fruit and clothes just outside the courtyard!

Sketches from clinic:

Desperation
A man came to Dr. Joe with a shoulder that had been dislocated for almost 3 weeks following an intoxicated motorcycle accident. Blood sugar 552, blood pressure 200/110. A walking disaster at any age, this man appeared relatively young. The shoulder was too swollen to be put back into the socket without putting him to sleep. We could give him medicines for his pain and other ailments, but without the use of his arm he could not work. His wife had left him, and he was there with his mom and sister who were trying to help him. What this man really needed, we (in our own strength and preparation) could not give him. Mom asked if she could pray for him. She said she had never felt such a strong anointing to pray for healing. It's not like in the states where we have many different avenues to pray for healing (Lord use the doctors, Lord use modern medical techniques, etc.). This man had no other hope than a miracle. The doctors he had seen told him there was nothing wrong (though there was obvious separation). Miraculously, a woman volunteering with us as a translator knew some people who worked at the hospital in Cuernevaca. She called them and told them she was sending the man to them and to look after him. We took up a collection for transportation and food. As we placed the money in their hands, all three began to weep and dazedly left in blessed shock. I don't know the ultimate outcome, but I believe that they experienced God's abundant grace through this situation.

Maira
The hardest part of the day for me was Maira: the 16 year-old girl, 5 months pregnant. A tiny little thing with big, shy eyes and smooth baby skin. Already uncomfortable, moving slowly, and having trouble sitting and walking, she was too young and too small to be growing a baby. I wondered how she got there. Consent? Rape? Did she really know how her life would change? How high risk pregnancies in one so young and small can be? My heart was so flooded with compassion that I very nearly lost it. Tears welled in my eyes as Dad examined her and told her where the baby's back, head, and feet were. Lord, touch her with your love and grace. Surround her with your presence that she might know she is your beloved daughter. I am helpless to intervene through any other avenue but intercession.

No Es Toxico?!?

A funny aside...

The clinic at Alpuyeca was set-up in an open air community center of sorts. During the day, a group of men began liberally spraying the outskirts for insects. Clouds of ominous looking aerosol chemicals began wafting through the area. As we pulled out exam masks, one of the workers ran over, removed his doomsday-looking gas mask and adamantly proclaimed:

"No es toxico! No es toxico!"



After making this declaration, he promptly put his mask on and went right back to work, and we were treated to a host of uninvited guests!

Mexico Mission: Monday

Today we were in the village of Alpuyeca. Ingenious setup of individual exam rooms. The youth of the mission church there made brilliant use of cording, vinyl sheets, duct tape, and paper clips.

Some people sketches from the day:

Clothilde

A tiny grandma with a long, thin, salt and pepper braid was having trouble with her eyes. Turns out she had pretty sizable cataracts in both eyes. We told her she could get a quick outpatient surgery that would give her back her vision, but that procedure was beyond our capability. Then, she proceeded to cry and purse her toothless mouth sharing that she lived all alone and there was no one to take care of her. She wasn't sure anyone could take her to the clinic. We listened attentively, held her hands, and asked if we could pray with her interceeding that the Lord would comfort her with His presence and cover her with His love. She gave hugs and kisses to everyone at least twice, and got some medicine for her "dolor" (pain). Mom gave her a big, stuffed bear from the box of toys that we were distributing to the kids. Now she's not alone.

The Farmer

A creased and weathered 73 year-old man with sensory neuropathy (numbness, weakness, pain, and tingling in the extremities) who wept on his cot because he was sad to be growing old. He wanted to keep working in the fields but his feet bothered him, and he couldn't work as fast or as productively as in the past. We listened. We acknowledged his value as a child of God. He was given something to help with his feet and pronounced fit to work as he was able. You'd have thought we had given him an extension on life. He tearfully and profusely thanked us. Hugs all around. He left in smiles.

The Griever
There was a man waiting to see the dentist. He could not read and did not know he had to sign in. Dr. Harry noticed something was wrong and sent him to our room. The man had recently lost his wife of 35 years. Severely depressed. Suicidal. Couldn't make eye contact. We spoke hope. We spoke love. We spoke truth. We prayed healing over him. I brought him a cup of water as we think he'd been sitting in the sun patiently waiting for his turn that wouldn't have come if someone hadn't noticed he was still there. "For whenever you gave even a cup of cold water to the least of these, you did so unto me."

The Children

A shy little girl with yellow heart earrings. Exuberant boys. Two things are universal: smiles and babies that are afraid of doctors.

Mexico Mission: Sunday

We went to church today in Xoxocotla (p.s. I just had to pull off my t-shirt so I could remember how to spell it!) at the United Methodist congregation. Everything here happens on "Mexico Time" which roughly translates to "when people get here" or simply "whenever we feel like it." I felt so welcomed and blessed to be worshiping with everyone, and I LOVED singing in Spanish. I deeply wish I knew the language (or any other language for that matter).

During a moment of quiet prayer, I was so flooded with tearful emotion that the same God I know, love, and experience was present in this place where life, culture, and the very words spoken are so different. Yet He is here offering the same life-transforming grace and relationship with Himself...still sovereign, still loving, life-giving, and completely good.



They cooked an incredible lunch for us that included spaghetti. I wonder if they were trying to make something "American" for us! So generous...I wish I could converse better. We went to Xochicalco, ancient ruins of a pre-Aztec pyramid/temple/fort. Stunning, especially the Temple of the Feathered Serpent which had designs of Quetzalcoatl (the head honcho Latin American God) pressed into the base. They had places where stone pillars lined up perfectly with the sun on each season's equinox. How could they measure that and construct accordingly? Impressive. I'm fascinated driving around at all the roadside stands and businesses.



Life operates differently. Colorfully. Communally. Beautifully.

Tomorrow starts clinic.
Lord be in our hearts, and
in our hands and in our words.

The long and short of life lately.

I often feel like I have to have something profound to say before I can post. There's so much going on in my head right now, and none of it seems to make much sense...or rather...I postpone writing because I tell myself I don't have the time to sift through what's going on. And that's ridiculous. Furthermore, there have been times when I see in others the importance of making time to think in a focused fashion about situations that are difficult or uncomfortable. I see the detrimental effects of not doing so. Then...

Why is it so hard to pick through my own thoughts?

God is dealing with me on a lot of levels lately. Just when I think I've grown so much and painfully humbled myself to the lesson of my current season. Just when I think I can finally pat myself on the back for my good listening to him and relax into thinking I'm a pretty darn wonderful person...something ugly inside me rears its ugly head for pruning and transformation. I'm glad beyond words that God is faithful to keep working on me, but that doesn't mean I perpetually enjoy the revelations of the parts of me that aren't as wonderful as I'd like to think.

Delusions can be nice for a time.

But I don't ever want to stagnate...in my life, learning, relationships with others...and above ALL my relationship with my God. I think that's one of my greatest fears: stagnation, satisfaction with the status quo.

Work: I dread it. I'm overwhelmed. I'm not being faithful, productive, or diligent. I feel frustrated, incompetent, and wonder sometimes whether I've been deluding myself all these years of my "intelligence." I feel like God is getting at something big in there, but I don't know (or I won't choose to know) what root he's tweaking that's causing me pain. I need Him to help me figure it out though, or I'm setting up a self-fulfilling prophesy for self-destruction.

Relationships: There is grace (thankfully). Some pain and consequences of choices. But God is putting all the pieces back into place the way He wants them to be. And I am awestruck at where he's brought me. My prayer is that as God prepared Eve for Adam, so He would work in my heart to prepare me to be the partner of the man for whom I was designed. I feel like He's got a lot of work, but if He's not discouraged...I won't be either.

House: There is Love, Grace, Growth, Community, Family, and God weaving us all together in marvelous ways I could never have imagined.

Service: I'm leaving for Mexico tomorrow night for my medical mission. I've scarcely had time to think about it, much less prayerfully prepare myself the way I envisioned. I am deeply hungering new revelations, dreams, visions, relationships, inspirations, and above all...to be a vessel of God's unconditional, life-transforming love to the people we serve.

Be still my soul, The Lord is on thy side.

On the subject of "catcalling"

With the cost of gasoline climbing daily, I'm making more of an effort than ever to travel from point A to point B under my own human-powered locomotion (namely bicycle or on foot as I have yet to channel my brainpower towards teleporting).

Unfortunately, this resolution towards greener living often leaves me at the mercy of the classier types of the opposite sex who enjoy vocalizing animal sounds and/or pick-up lines out their windows while passing in their automobiles. A sample of the highlights:

• Wolf-howls (apparently I resemble the moon with my winter-whitened skin)
• Woof-woofs
• "Looking hot, Baby" (why yes...as a matter of fact I'm standing directly in the sun waiting to cross the black asphalt streets)
• "Hot mama" (see above but add padded spandex shorts and a bicycle)
• "Yummy yummy" (must've been the unwashed hair pulled haphazardly into a ponytail and Chacos...that's hot stuff)
• You name it...I've probably heard it.

The one-sided exchanges baffle me.

I mean...honestly...what do they think is going to happen? I'm going to stop what I'm doing, run over to their car, and say: "Oh Baby, that's just what I've been wanting to hear. Open the door and take me with you wherever you're going in your rusty jalopy/utility van/large gas-guzzling truck." ???

I mosey on most often annoyed, occasionally laughing, but still an annoyed sort of laugh. It's especially intrusive when I'm trying to have a reflective, prayerful commute.

Dear Average Man-of-the-World...when trying to capture my heart
(or any other woman's on the planet):

I suggest a new strategy.

Let it rain.

The adventurers tally ho...

Oddly wet and brisk for this time of year. Perhaps I just haven't lived here long enough. In desperate need of some mountains and trees, I decided to go hiking rain or shine (rain). Since the snow level is still at 2500 ft, Jackie, Marisa, and I headed to the Middle Fork of the Snoqualmie River Trail off I-90...a year-round hiking destination. Eleven skillfully driven miles down the treacherous, pot-holy road brought us to the trailhead where we kindly thanked the Camry for holding together, donned our rain gear, and bravely ventured forth into the lush, verdant forest lining the Snoqualmie River.


Bridge to Terabithia

Crossing the bridge over the swollen river, we discovered (amazingly) that one doesn't have to drive all the way out to the Olympic Peninsula to find a rainforest. Damp, brilliantly green moss carpet, ferns, rivulets, rocks, mist rising to towering rocks...and quiet.



Quiet like I can't find anywhere else. Underneath even trail conversation is a reflective sort of quiet that allows my spirit, soul, mind, and body to get reacquainted with one another. I forget how much I truly need peaceful places to simply be still and know that He is God (Ps. 46:10). It's easy to succumb to the myriad of other "to dos" that exist at all times in my life, but once I take that first step out the door with fresh air in my lungs and a stirring in my heart things just seem to fall into place.

Micro-scenery. Macro-scenery.

Sappy? Perhaps. Thoreau-esque? Likely. But deeply and sincerely true.

I know my Creator, and He knows me.
And I delight to be fervently alive
and active in His world.


Wet, muddy, splattered delight.

Something new...

There is something that happens to one's thoughts when they're committed to writing. The act of creating concrete, comprehensible order on the page is a physical representation of the state of the mind. Surrounded day in and out by numbers and graphs and data, I miss the artistic beauty that comes in crafting and forming fanciful wisps of thought into the written word. Organic musings that blossom and mature.

My heart is full, and my mind is aflame.
I need a place to wax eloquently (or not).
But at least a place to think and share.

My grandad has a blog. I suppose I should get with the times.

I'm not sure how this venture will evolve, but I anticipate it will contain a smattering of my various passions: God, reaching out, mountains, science, etc. Expect some hashing of thoughts from my reading as well: God's word, apologetics, theology, nature, and the like.

I love new adventures...