Awakening

Nearly two years ago I feel asleep. I don't know exactly how it happened or why, but my spirit went into a deep coma that, despite all my frail efforts, could not be revived. I prayed for a long, long time for God to awaken me, but I remained listless. And no amount of council or quiet time could jolt me into consciousness. I was aware of my dying state, but felt utterly helpless to resolve it. In fact, the extended drought in Texas has reflected my soul. But, it is starting to rain...

When Jarred left Texas 3 months ago, I sank into depression and loneliness and stress as I prepared to make this huge change in my life. Often, when people asked me how wedding plans were going or if I was looking forward to it, my response was, "I'm looking forward to it being over!" I became very negative and secretly fearful of the step I was about to take. Then came the dreams. I started dreaming of Africa almost every night. I began to question my motives for marrying Jarred, and if it was the right thing to do. I don't know what happened, but a couple of days ago, I became very aware of my sour attitude. I was taking my internal distress out on those I loved most. But when I realized what I was doing and how it would affect the "goodbye" to my family and the "hello" to my new husband, I dried my tears, apologized for my behavior, and determined to start being positive and thankful.

Last night I had another dream of Africa. Kenya and Israel represented the same thing, and Somalia and Samaria / the Middle East represented the same thing. I and a group of people were on a dangerous journey out of Somalia and into Kenya via bus. The Somali people were allowing us to leave, as long as we did not take any of their people with us. But they were rejecting and throwing out their own children who were sick or maimed. I swaddled a sick little Somali girl named Carol and hid her close against me on the bus. Some of the other sick children who we were trying to rescue died along the way. But during the 2 or 3-day trip, I cared for the baby in my arms and prayed over her. Then Jesus was next to me, and I asked Him, "Isn't this what You want us to do, to care for the orphans and widows instead of seeking war?" I wanted to know that I was doing the right thing, that I had His approval. When we arrived safely in Kenya / Israel, little Carol suddenly awoke fully healed. I started crying for joy and we all praised God.

I am curious as to what this dream means. Is it figurative? Is Carol a picture of the inside of me - a sick girl who needs awakening? Or is it more literal? Is it a prophetic picture of what God wants us to do there? Jarred and I have been discussing our role in relation with Africa. Both of the times that I have been to Kenya (the first when I was 14 and the second when I was 20-22), I stayed as far away from the children and the needy as I could, which usually meant that I was closed off to the world around me. I was more focused on a country than actual people, and more concerned with my role than God's heart. But God says that, "Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress" (James 1:27) It grieves me that I have a seeming inability to love those who need it most or who require something of me (see my last post, Selective Love).

At church today, I walked into the sanctuary and entered God's presence unhindered. I'm not exactly sure what happened. Perhaps it has been an unconscious, gradual awakening - needing dreams, emotions, and a shaking of the course of my life. But it did not take an extended time of prayer, fasting, reflection, worship, or communion. I was simply there, in His presence, and acutely aware of His voice. And I sensed Him say, "The drought is over." I felt awake for the first time in a long time. The disappointed hopes and offense toward God melted away...Outside my Texas bedroom window, the sun is peeking out after nearly a week of heavy rain. The brown fields have been transformed into soft waves of green blanketed in wildflowers. The birds are singing and the trees are covered in blooms I've never been aware of before. It is a perfect Spring. And I am taking it all in...alive.

Selective Love

In my post last night, I touched on my feelings for the people of Africa...and the lack thereof for Americans. Although God wants us to love all the people of the world, I can't say that my feelings are wrong since I believe that He impresses upon the hearts of His children to pursue different people groups with His love. However, it does cause me to notice a certain flaw inside myself - selective love.


The way I live my life is very structured. Perhaps my worst pet peeve is being late, the second being disorganized. I hate the feeling of chaos and disorder, so I narrow my focus to maintain my sanity. Narrowing my focus, however, often shifts people to my peripheral vision or my blind side. Sometimes I run them over in the pursuit of my goals.


In Matthew 5:43-49, Jesus said, "You have heard the law that says, 'Love your neighbor' and hate your enemy. But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! In that way, you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven. For he gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike. If you love only those who love you, what reward is there for that? Even corrupt tax collectors do that much. If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else? Even pagans do that. But you are to be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect."


We got a new General Manager at Banana Republic a couple of weeks ago. Right off the bat people were talking smack about her, calling her awful names behind her back. I was shocked to hear even my favorite manager slander her. But as time has passed and I too have noticed unlikeable characteristics in the new GM, I silently joined the critics. Yesterday she snapped at me and I could feel a sarcastic reply crawl up my throat. I almost didn't care that I was about to get myself fired over an offense! But a couple of hours later when I clocked out for the day, I noticed her in the break room cringing with a big migraine. I suddenly imagined myself in her shoes - a stranger in a new state, trying to get her family settled in and manage a brand new group of people who doesn't even accept her yet. So I silently prayed for her, and my hostile feelings melted away.


I don't usually keep a record of "enemies", but how often do I select those who I am going to really love?

Mothers & Missionaries

I have two topics looming in my mind, completely unrelated, nevertheless pressing...mothers and missionaries.

Mothers. More and more I am coming to realize the serious value of a mother. I may be stepping on toes here, maybe I am just young and inexperienced and don't really understand yet. But right now I believe that you should not bear children if you are not prepared to be a mother. A mother and a woman who bears children are not the same thing! You may have youngsters with the same DNA, but you may not be their mother. I am observing firsthand the effects of the absence of a mother. When children are abandoned to raise themselves, chaos reigns...and usually the mother wonders why her children don't respect her. It seems to me that it is better for a family to live simply and the mother to fulfill her role than for both parents to work and the children raise themselves. I may be being brash here, but I believe a true mother stays home to cultivate her own children. I do not mean that I think every family should homeschool, etc., but that a mother needs to be active in the upbringing of her children, and acutely aware of what is going on in their lives so she may know how to properly direct them. God help me, I will not surrender my motherhood to someone else or my children to destruction because I cannot foresee our financial stability.


(Note: I understand that every situation is not cookie cutter. Especially in this generation, with so many broken homes, being a stay-at-home mom may not be a feasible option. I don't have all the answers. I can only speak my convictions from the viewpoint of how things should be.)

Missionaries. Since I have not been a mother, but I have been a missionary, this topic perplexes me even more. If a mother feels helpless to change or confused about how to do so, I can understand those feelings when it comes to being a missionary. Unanswered questions still fester inside...a sense of failure on my calling. I just saw a news video online about a white man living in the war zone of Sudan. Why wasn't I strong enough to stay? How could a lifelong dream be crushed by discomfort in a matter of months? It may be wrong, but the hungry and lost people of America don't capture my heart...Africa does. People always told me that I would go places where people haven't gone and do things people haven't done. But the thirst for living on the edge that once drew me now causes me to shrink back in fear. What do I do?