Youth Group

A few months ago, I started attending the youth group. I went at first to practice listening to Creole. Sometimes I understood the message, and sometimes I didn't. Most of the time I just came to watch and would have been content to fade into the background. Little did I know, my friends in the church had no intention of letting me lay low.

They immediately began asking me to pass in front of the group. One day they asked for a testimony, another day it was prayer, and still another day they asked me to teach. They made it a point to include me, and continued asking me questions even when I'm sure my responses revealed how lost I was in the language at times. My own shortcomings seemed to have no effect on their insistent invitations.

It may have even encouraged them. In fact, just last week they asked me to preach on the spot at a prayer meeting! This might deter some people, but to be honest, it has done nothing but blessed me.

Through their questions and the way they've involved me, I've experienced new levels of grace and love. The greatness of this grace and love really hit me tonight as I watched 9 youth group members file into my back porch for a special prayer time organized just for me. They came to pray for me before I leave, and in the last hour, I listened totally humbled by the sound of Creole prayers for Se Justine (sister Justine), her family, her fears, her safe trip to the United States, and more importantly her safe return.

At the end, one girl even sang a special song dedicated to me. I cannot express how incredibly humbled, blessed, and grateful I am for these amazing young people and for the picture they're showing me of love and grace.

when God is silent

God has always talked to me. And I've always liked it that way. When I read the bible the verses jumped. When I went to church the preacher preached to me. When I talked to my friends the stuff they were learning was exactly what I needed to hear.

But in the last few months, for whatever reason, that changed. I found that God wasn't talking to me in those ways anymore. In fact I would read my bible every day, read a devotional, pray, and sometimes read other spiritual books and never seem to have one deep revelation. At first, this really scared me. I wondered if I was somehow sinning and blocking out God's voice.

Or I thought, maybe he's talking and I'm just not listening. I tried with my own logic to make a message or a word from God out of the random smatterings of reading and quiet time. But honestly, that didn't work. I still felt his silence.

This was a bit discouraging and kind of scary. If I'm not hearing God, how do I know what his will is? I was so scared in fact, that I stopped acting in faith. If I didn't know what God was saying, I didn't want to do anything.

For example, I was praying about what to do w/my money. I had been thinking about hiring some people to help in my house because I knew their families could use the help. I had also been wanting to help a friend out with some school expenses, but I never heard God say, "Justine hire this woman to clean" or "give your money to this friend."

So I did nothing. For several months, I just held onto my money and waited for an answer. Eventually I got one. In the midst of the silence, I felt God's spirit start to convict me about storing my treasures up on earth instead of in heaven. He brought to mind the parable of the talents, the rich young man, and the passages about giving to your brother in need. And in my heart I felt him so strongly say, "you're money is going to rot."

Wow! Kind of intense. I still wasn't sure what God wanted me to do, but I knew I had to start giving it away. So I did. I decided to do the things that had been on my heart to do even though I hadn't specificially heard God say them.

And you know, I think he was happy with that. I wonder if sometimes I don't overcomplicate God's will, making it out to be this tightrope walk that would end disastrously w/one mis-step. I don't know, maybe sometimes God does talk to us about every single decision. And maybe in some seasons He doesn't.

Maybe sometimes he says Go here. And other times he just says be my servant, and leaves it up to us to interpret what that means. I mean really, do you think God would get mad at me for hiring a struggling young widow to clean my house w/o asking him? Or would he be angry if I helped a friend out with their schooling when I know he's blessed me financially? Probably not...

Even now, I'm still sorting out what to do when God is silent. Maybe it's this simple: Do the good that's in front of you to do.

holiness?

The night she had 6 pudding instead of 7, I'm not sure if anyone noticed that it was her who went without. No one sees the cupboard full of missmatched sheets, the aftermath of open-handed linen lending. And I've not heard anyone acknowledge her sacrifice when she continuously offers the last bit of leftovers, leaving her own plate empty.

And yet, still she does it. Every day, Joy Irvine chooses to put others before herself, in a subtle but stunning posture of selflessness. As I've watched her over these past seven months, I've often thought, I wish I had a heart like hers and wondered how I could get one.

I don't choose to use my only free moments in my week to love on a three-year old or teach math to a second-grader. In fact, I'd much rather use my time for me, retreating to my house to write and listen to some music. But she somehow consistently chooses sacrifice, so much so, that I'm not sure she's even concious of it.

Sure, 30 years of marriage and mothering five children may have something to do with her bent toward servanthood. But I think it's even more than that. To me it's an example of what happens when a believer chooses to be Christ-like in the little things. Gradually, those little things accumulate and inside that person the nature of Christ himself is cultivated, and for a few moments each day heaven is on earth in her holiness.

Research is boring, right?

I just want to say quickly, I love teaching. To see my students hungry eyes light up when a concept finally clicks, may be one of the most rewarding exciting experiences I've had. Today in one of my English classes, we talked about research for 45 minutes.

That sounds so boring, doesn't it? But it wasn't boring at all. My students were firing questions at me faster than I could answer them. They wanted to know, how can I narrow my topic when I like every topic? "The poor, for example, is a very important topic everywhere in the world," one of my students said. He wanted to know how he can choose just one topic to write about.

Then another student asked the very basic question, "How can I find information in a book?" It sounds so basic, but we then spent several minutes talking about looking at the title of the book, the table of contents, and the index. We talked about scanning and key words and bold headings.

And every eye was on me, every hand eagerly scribbling notes.

What a huge privilege it is for me to teach here!

Looking Haitian

The other day Merline and her sister stayed over to watch a movie. In the morning I was telling them that sometime, I want to get my hair braided. Well before breakfast was over sometime had arrived. Merline's little sister braided my hair in about forty-five minutes. When it was all over, I looked like this. Finished product-->

I loved it....I had to take it out after only 3 days because I went swimming and couldn't get the salt out of my hair. But for a few days, I looked quite Haitian.

Leader

A few nights each week, after the workers have left and the sun has started to set, I go running around the perimeter of the mission compound. It’s a short track, but 5 to 10 laps gives me enough time to relax, digest the day, and get a little exercise in the process. Normally running is a time of solitude for me. But last week, my time of solitude quickly turned into a game when 3 little kids joined me for my jog.

The three little ones were sitting outside waiting for their mothers to finish the day’s work when they smiled at me passing by. The oldest one, who’d seen me running before began to run beside me, so I asked him if he wanted to race. He said yes and ran along side me, but we never set a finish line so the race continued for half a lap.

Soon his little sister and brother (maybe 6 and 5 years old) followed his example, and began running behind us. We must have looked pretty funny, the four of us running along in a line like little ducks. I laugh now just thinking about it—a 23 year old, a 10 year old and 2 kindergarten aged kids.

Since I had their full attention, I decided to make a game of it, and told the oldest boy “Ou lide. Nou swiv ou.” I think that means, “You leader. We follow you.” It must have been close enough because he started running in front. After a bit we picked another leader and went on like this. Of course I led them over logs and around a swing-set and under tree branches, but the little ones just ran straight and hard, as if they were finishing some army exercise.

In fact it reminded me of a running drill we did in high school. I think it’s called an Indian run. Anyway a whole team runs in a line and the last person runs to the front of the line, when she’s there, the new last person runs to the front, when she’s there the new last person does the same until you’ve finished running the assigned distance.

Anyway, the kids stuck with me for a good ten or fifteen minutes until their mothers came out. I don’t know if they felt like they had to keep playing or if they really were having fun. But as they left I told them, “Thanks for running with me,” and they got the biggest cutest smiles on their faces. Doing Indian running drills with Haitian kids may be one of my favorite little gifts God’s given me. :)

(I wrote this a while back, but haven't had a chance to publish it until tonight)

A quick Creole story

Last week my friend invited me to go to youth group with her. Just before we left she told me they could make me go up front and ask me to share a little bit. So I tried to think through what I might say. When we got there, sure enough, they asked me to share. They started to invite my friend to come with me to translate, but she said in Creole, "Oh no, she doesn't need me. She speaks Creole." I was terrified!

Despite my fear, I managed to go up and give a quick Creole introduction and a little testimony of how God brought me here. My language must not have been too bad because they asked me to share a meditation next week! Though I don't totally understand what they mean when they say meditation, I do know they'd like me to talk for 15 to 20 minutes.

If you could, pray for me as I prepare. Pray that I would know what to share and that God would help me as I write it out and translate it ahead of time. From what I could see, and what my friend has told me, the youth group is a tough crowd. They often talk amongst themselves during the lesson, and many of them don’t have a great attitude toward church in general.

I’m excited for the chance to share with them because I’ve been watching them in church each Sunday and have wanted to see them come to know God in a real way that excites them. But I am a littel intimidated to speak to a tough crowd in a new language.

feeling victorious

This past month I was 1 of 2 missionaries on the mission station in La Gonave. When I first arrived there were 8 missionaries here, but with injuries, maternity leave, fundraising, and the end of a term, all but two of us had outside obligations. I had only been in the country two and a half months when everyone had to leave, which may sound intimidating.

But actually, it was a neat rite of passage for me because I had to learn everything like: where the stores are located, what to do when I need a doctor, how to run a guest house, how to cook anything and everything from scratch (I make a mean potatoe soup), how drive a four-wheeler, how to speak Creole, how to catch a rat, what to do when the water filter breaks, how to fight a Haitian cough, how to have healthy boundaries, and how to graciously handle other people's needs. And I had to do it all with little advice or guidance from anyone except God. It was kind of cool because at times I knew my choice was cower in my house and cry or take a risk and conquer.

Tomorrow some of the other missionaries will be returning...Wohoo! And by September we will be back up to 7 missionaries. Though I'm excited, I wanted to take a minute just to mention how thankful I am for the past month. I'm feeling pretty victorious.

1100 Words -- The Equivalent of Chinese Literacy

In my 11th grade world cultures book, I read that to become literate in Chinese, students needed to memorize 1100 characters. So, being the goal-oriented girl that I am, I decided that if I could memorize 1100 Creole words, maybe I could speak Creole by the end of the summer.

Starting in May, I decided to learn 75 new word each week until September. Finding 75 new words each week has been kind of fun because I have to get creative about where I get these words. If I'm sick, I memorize words like stomach ache, diarrhea, and cramps (all important words in Haiti). If I go to the market, I learn vegetable words, money words, and phrases like "you ask for too much."

This week I will pass the halfway mark (wohoo!), adding 75 new words to my current 546 to make a total of 621. Whew! But I'm starting to find that memorization and conversation are not enough.

Though I'm understanding and speaking more Creole, I still can't put all my little words together to make coherent Creole thoughts. To help with this, I will spend 1 month in Port Au Prince studying intensively.

I'll leave this Saturday, and while I'm there, I will keep working toward my goal of 1100 words. But I will also work on a new goal of leaving Creole infancy for the equivalent of Chinese literacy. :)

(You could pray for me as I study. That I can learn quickly, that I connect well with my teacher, and that God gives my brain supernatural ability to think in my new language.)

The Big Vision

I walked into Haiti, hoping I would get to teach a couple of English classes here and there. But just a month after arriving, I found out what a great a vision I was falling into. I discovered it one afternoon while I was talking with another missionary. She was showing me English curriculum and mentioned in passing, "Well you know about the university and everything, right?"

University? I had no idea. So I asked, "What university?"

That's when Joy began to tell me all about the Haitian Wesleyan Church's vision for an English speaking university. A few years ago, the leaders of the church told Dan Irvine (Joy's husband) that they wanted to begin an English speaking university that would offer degrees in Business, Agriculture, and Nursing.

They explained that they wanted the school to be in English because if students got their degrees in English instead of French, they would have more opportunities to pursue master's programs in the States or elsewhere. English-speaking students would also have access to more resources which are written in English, and the university could invite professors from the States and other English-speaking countries to teach.

But there was one problem. Before they could begin this university, they would need a class of students ready to study in English. So three years ago, Joy began the process of teaching professional men and women English with the hope that one day they may be able to attend an English speaking university in Haiti.

And that's where I come in. This year, I'll get to teach Joy's most advanced students writing. This is one of the last skills they'll need for further education. As I teach the mechanics and grammar of writing, another missionary is hoping to begin teaching computer. And eventually, by working together, our students will be writing word-processed documents, researching online, and even sending articles to foreign magazines for publication...At least that's the big vision. :)

My Haitian Family

There's a verse in the bible that says, "God sets the lonely in families." I prayed this verse before I left the States because I hated the idea of leaving my family behind. And God has been faithful. Several Haitians in my life are treating me like family.

The Uncles
- The night watchman -- Each night he greets me and asks how I am. Then if I'm walking from one house on the compound to another, he will get his big spotlight and shine it on my path until I'm in my door. He's kind of like a protective uncle.

- The two sailors -- They have very different personalities. The one is small and chatty. He keeps some of his boat stuff at my house so he comes often to pick up stuff as he needs it. And each time he talks to me in Creole, and laughs and laughs as I try to understand. He kind of picks on me a bit and really gets a kick out of it when I have a language epiphany and say, "Oh, mwen konpran."
The other sailor is a strong silent type. The kind who holds the door for you and grabs your hand to help you get safely onto the boat. But he too picks on me. The other day he tried to tell me something. I didn't understand, so he laughed and laughed and lightly grabbed my wrist. (this would be something like a mix between an American knee slap and cheek pinch)

The Moms
- A cook and a nurse -- My friend's mom was cooking at my house the other day with one of the nurses. As they cooked they of course asked me if I was married. When I said no, I explained that I will not marry just any man. They both understood and said, "We will pray for you to find a husband." There was definitey a lot of motherly tenderness behind those words.

Some Dads and a brother
- The other missionaries -- They have pretty much fathered me. Before heading to the States Pastor Dan was pretty protective of me, giving me advice he'd give to his daughters. And Butch will walk me to my house at night if he thinks a stranger is on the compound.
He and Zach (a father/brother team) have also had to rescue me twice this week. Once when I locked myself out of my house and the other time when I locked myself in my bathroom. (the bathroom is a good story for another time.)

Sisters
- The women in my English club -- These women really treat me like sisters. They tell me they worried about me when the other missionaries went to PAP and left me here. And they wondered if I was ok in the thunderstorm. They also make sure to give me advice about who I should and should not talk to, and they help me with a lot of the stuff you talk to sisters about. :)

My Extended Family
- There's also some extended family around here, you know the third cousins and such. They're the ones I see once in a while but really enjoy. Like the laundry lady who shows up behind my house and yells for me through the windows. She's small , round, and spunky. She's friendly ike a great-aunt, but a fierce worker who would do anything for her now grown kids.

I could go on, but you get the picture. "He sets the lonely in families," and makes them lonely no more. :)

Trash

This evening as I went back to my room, a sound behind my house caught my attention. I looked out my windows to see what it was. I expected to see the pack of stray dogs that frequent the trash pit (which is also just behind my house). Instead I saw two teenage boys, running, backs bent, heads nervously turned in my direction.

The one boy had in his hand a white trash bag. I knew it was mine because when I threw it out earlier this afternoon, there were no other bags in the pit. I watched as they carried my trash to the back wall, then dumped its contents on the ground.

As saw them sorting through the trash with their eyes, I felt like they were sorting through me. Guiltily I wondered, what had I thrown away that week? An empty milk box, rotten salad, a couple of mango pits.

I was ashamed by the amount of food that had rotted in my fridge before making it into anyone's stomach. Would these boys take some of that food? Maybe I shouldn't have thrown that out yet. But soon they too had determined that my trash really was trash. Then they hopped back over the fence leaving my trash on the ground by the back wall.

The whole episode took less than a minute, but I can't stop thinking about those two boys. Why did they dig through my trash? What did they hope to find? How often do they sneak into the trash pit?

A little gift

Today I listened to worship music with my friend. It was the neatest thing because she started try to explain her worship experience to me, and neither one of us could quite put into words what happens when you sing a song and your heart connects with God.

Then a few minutes later a song came on that I recognized. It was "I Can Only Imagine," but all the words were in French. As it played she roughly translated for me, and said how much she enjoyed the song. It was so beautiful to hear her say, "when I am with God, I can only imagine." She spoke softly and deliberately, and looked up toward heaven when she said it.

When I tried to answer back, "Yes I understand," I felt tears coming to my eyes because I really did understand what she meant and I knew we were both at that moment feeling near to God.

This was the first time that I have connected with someone here (other than a missionary) on a spiritual level. It was a huge gift!

I cannot wait to develop my Creole so I can really begin to know people's hearts.

Places

These past two weeks there have been a couple of teams here, so I have had several opportunities to get out and see a little more of La Gonave. And it is beautiful.

The Saline

This past week I helped one team with a VBS they were hosting. They hosted it in one of the neediest areas in town, the Saline or the salt flats. This area lies along the coast and floods often from heavy rains and high tides. The houses there are crumbling from the salt water, and there is always trash and waste in the streets.

But the people are beautiful. The children were great fun as they sang each day, and the pastor was a huge encouragement. We could tell by his big grin and bubbly spirit that he loves God and his congregation.

The team also went back twice to show The Passion of the Christ, and several people accepted Christ at both showings. This is exciting because the need here is so great. We can give away food, clothes, and money every day, and still people go hungry. This can get discouraging, but when you see people coming to know Jesus, it's a good reminder that God's the only one who can meet all our needs.

As a side note, the salt flats is quickly becoming my favorite areas in town because there are so many people to talk to there.

Church

Last Sunday I got to go to church in a small fishing village. We had to take a boat to get there. Then once we arrived, the water was too shallow for our boat to pull up to the dock. Another small boat had to row out and pick us up. It took 3 boats to get us back after church.

But going was a blessing because it showed me another side of Haiti. At one point the secretary was reporting on the monthly offering. One week it was less than 10 goudes, which is about 25 cents! I couldn't help but wonder if the people in the church were giving out of their poverty like the widow gospels.

The Sand Bar

There is a big sand bar just 10 minutes from the coast. We often go there to get away. Well last time we went, I put on goggles and looked at the coral wreath for the 1st time. It was incredible. There were tiny blue, orange, and neon yellow fish everywhere, and waves of sea grass covered the ocean floor. For the first time ever I wished I could breathe underwater. (Next time I'll take a snorkle.)

Mache -- to walk

"Ou vle mache avek mwen apre travay ou?" I carefully pronounced the words I had study all morning, and double checked my note card to make sure I'd said it right. "Do you want walk with me after work?"

I was talking to the only Christian girl my age that I know here, and this was my first real attempt at friendship. I desperately wanted to make sense. Even more than that I wanted to hang out and have a conversation that went beyond hello-how-are-you. My palms sweated a bit as I waited a milisecond for her response.

"Wi."

Whew.

I was pumped at the prospect of having a real friend. And laughed for a few minutes with Marline as we tried to figure out what time to meet and realized that neither one of us is very good at telling time in the other's language.

We did manage to set a time to hang out, and went walking last Thursday for a few hours. It was the highlight of my week. I got to walk through the market, linger in the plaza, and see the Wesleyan school, greeting Marline's friends and relatives all the while.

The fact that neither of us knew all the right words didn't matter (We both carried Creol-English dictionaries as we walked) nor did it matter that men yelled out comments every where we went (I'm still new enough in the community to be a spectacle.) Marline treated me like a friend, and we had a good walk.

Thank you God for a new friend. :)

karate

Last night I was taking my trash to the trash pit, and I saw 8 or 9 hermit crabs on the path. All of them were crawling away from me, scared. Then when I got to the pit I saw a stray dog scrounging around and several lizards scurrying out of the trash. And I thought, oh yeah, I guess I do live in Haiti.



It's funny how quickly I've gotten used to seeing palm trees, palmettos, cacti, and cocroaches. The sounds of the birds and Creole conversations are becoming so familiar that I forget that I'm in another country. I am used to the smell of frying food and burning trash, and I hardly notice the man who shouts on the distant loudspeaker each day.



I still don't know what that sound is, though I hear it everyday...It comes from town. I hear a lot of stuff I don't understand. For example last night, it sounded like someone was holding a karate class just over the wall. I could hear an instructor shouting out commands and a group of people yelling out staccotto responses. Do you think Haitians take karate classes?

Culture Shock

Today I went to the market for the first time. Two other missionaries (Maya and Beth) were taking me so that I could get some of my groceries. As we walked up to the maze of tents and people I thought back to the other markets I'd been to in Guatemala and Swaziland. This market, like those ones was full of vendors selling everything from toothpaste to fish to sandals.

Sheets draped over pieces of wood created a droopy ceiling much like the market place in Disney's Aladin. And men and women sat Indian style on tarps beside their fruit, or they sat on chairs behind their fruit.

As our small group walked through people seemed to lean forward and call to us from every direciton. I could only guess at what they were saying. At one point Maya turned to a group of young people and said in Creole "We speak Creole too." (This much I understood.)

She later explained that she heard the people making fun of us so she wanted to let them know she understood. I watched in awe of her confidence. In the mean time, Beth led us through the tents and explained what could be found in each section. She greeted several of her friends along the way and occassionally asked in Creole "Cambien goude pou sa?" (how much is this.)

And for the first time all week, I really started to freak out inside. What am I doing here? This is what I have to do every time I want an onion?

I wasn't just freaking out b/c I had no clue what was happening, though that was a part of it. I was freaking out b/c I knew I was starting to let go of everything that's been normal and starting to create a new normal.

Someday, I like Beth and Maya will go to the market by myself to pick up a pepper or an onion and to chat with the women working there, and I won't think anything of it.

(Afterward: As soon as I got back from the market, I had to put on some music, fold laundry, and sweep my house. It was very therapeutic for me to realize there are some small things that are still familiar.)

some funny little things

I've officially been in Haiti for 5 days which is just long enough for me to have 5 quirky things to share w/you.

1) There is a little red bug that lives in my bathroom and he has a pattern on his back that looks like a red and black flag.

2) Every time I walk outside I hear the russling of little lizards scurrying away.

3) I buy boxed milk. (If it's not opened you can keep it in the cupboard for months.)

4) The Creole word for cake is the same as the Spanish word for cat. (gato)

5) One of the first things I learned to say in Creole is, "I don't know Creole." (m-pa pale Creole) kind of ironic isn't it?

bonus -- There's a word in Creole that sounds like marmot and has nothing to do with rodents. When I first heard it, I couldn't focus on the sentence and had to giggle at the picture of a rodent I had in my head.

Responding

"Exposure demands a response." ~Chris Heuertz, executive director of Word Made Flesh

I've been exposed to poverty, to hunger, to nakedness, so now what?

Yesterday we drove from Port Au Prince to another town to catch a boat. The roads we drove on were very rugged, speckled with potholes and washed out in several sections. Along them we saw several homes. The homes here all seem t be about the size of a small garage. If I had to guess I would say most of them have 2 rooms. All along the roads people were selling paintings, hand-made crafts, fruit, and anything else that could sit on a table in their front yard.

Once we reached our boat, we then went on to La Gonave, our final destination. We drove again past several small houses where there were naked children playing along the street, while their mothers sold goods. To be honest, I wasn't surprised by any of this.

A few years ago, the shock of these sights would bring me to tears immediately, but today I did not cry. I wrestled. I know my pity and my tears will not change this. Though I'm sure God still likes when we cry over injustice, I want to do more than cry over it.

I want to change it. But I have no idea how. I know just giving money and things isn't enough. That can even do more harm than good if it creates an unhealthy dependence -- think of the short falls of the welfare system (Don't get me wrong when we see the naked we need to cloth them and when we see the hungry we need to feed them...it's about balance). And I know just going and seeing and talking isn't enough. I want to do more.

I want to respond to poverty and injustice as Jesus did. And I want to do this not only in Haiti, while I am living among and making friends with these people. But I want to do it in the U.S. where I live among the wealthiest people in the world. (Yep in the U.S. I'm filthy rich, even w/a part-time job paying $8 an hour.) But how?

Could you pray with me as I wrestle with this? Now that I have been exposed, how should I respond?

Abandon

This morning I read in My Utmost for His Highest, "Are you prepared to let God take you into total Oneness w/Himself, paying no more attention to what you call the great things of life? Are you prepared to surrender totally and let go? The true test of adandonment or surrender is in refusing to say, 'Well, what about this?'"

Wow! "Refusing to say, 'Well, what about this?'" I'm not there yet. All week I've been asking God, well, what about this. What about my family, what about my church, what about my friends who don't know Jesus?

And I've been frustrated b/c I feel like I'm abandoning everyone I care about to move to Haiti. But this morning as I read through this devotional, it hit me. What if I'm not abandoning friends, family, and the lost? What if what I'm really abandoning is self?

Just some thoughts on my last day in the States. :)

Prayer Circles

My legs are tired, my mouth is dry, and my heart is oh so full!! Thank you to all of you who made it out to the farewell party and my commissioning service today. It was such a big blessing.

They prayed for me during both services at my church today. It was maybe the 10th time that a church has laid hands on my to pray over me and my ministry, and each time I feel even more encouraged than the last. It is very humbling to kneel down and feel the hands of so many people on my shoulders, back, and arms. The weight of this collective touch would be difficult to stand up under, and I can't help but think of that how that physical strength pushing down represents the same spritiual strength that will be holding me up when I go. It is an awesome picture.

It's also pretty encouraging to turn around and see the circle of people who have come to pray. I have locked in my mind images of circles at different churches in Indiana, Michigan, and Pennsylvania (ECC, New Lebanon, College Wesleyan, Lighthouse, to name a few), and if all of these prayer circles were added together the number of people in them would well over a hundred. It's a small army that I cannot do without.

Seriously, one of the biggest lies I've had to fight as I've prepared to go is the lie that I am alone. But today God knocked that lie out of the way. Seeing and feeling the power of prayer circles forces me to see that I am NOT ALONE.

Today was a huge day to celebrate what God is doing not in my life, but in HIS BODY. And you are all a part of that. Thanks for coming. Thanks for praying. Thanks for rejoicing!

March Newsletter

More than I Imagined
“Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we could ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us…” Ephesians 3:20

If you’ve heard me speak in the last 8 months chances are, you’ve heard me talk about this verse and about how God is doing MORE. Well, my friends, He’s at it again.

As I’ve prepared to go to Swaziland, my job description has been pretty fluid. This fluidity has left lots of room for me to imagine what I would do in Swaziland. I was imagining myself teaching English, mentoring young adults, and encouraging nationals and missionaries. I didn’t know if I would get to do any of these things, but I secretly hoped that I would.

Then, two weeks ago my hope was put to the test when I found out that I will not be able to go to Swaziland. This news surprised and confused me, so I started to pray. As I prayed, God reminded me of all the things I was looking forward to doing in Swaziland: teaching, mentoring, and encouraging.

At the same time Global Partners mentioned that I might be able to go to Haiti. Since I have a strong relationship with the missionaries there (the area director Dan Irvine was my pastor all through high school) I sent them an e-mail, listing all the things I was hoping to do in Swaziland.

Shortly after that, the Irvines contacted me to tell me that all the things I had been hoping to do in Swaziland are needs in Haiti! This week, Global Partners officially reappointed me as a one-year missionary to Haiti. I am very excited that God is taking my same passions in a new direction. He really does do immeasurably more than all we can ask or imagine!!

What I’ll be doing in Haiti
I am hoping to get to Haiti this May. Since the budget is a little less than my Swaziland budget, and since there is such a need there, this goal is very plausible.

Once I get there I will start taking language classes and preparing to teach. In the fall I will be teaching 3 levels of English classes to adults. These adults will be a mix of believers and non-believers, and I can’t wait to meet them all!

In addition to this, I may help debrief and direct short-term teams that come to Haiti.I am excited about all these things, and can’t wait to see what MORE God will do.

Prayer Requests and Praises:·
Logistics – lots of little details to take care of as I switch destinations and prepare to depart ·
Perseverance – finishing time in States well·
Cultural Preparation – different going to live in a country I’ve never visited·
Family time has been great. God’s moving in my whole family.·
Praise God for his provision and direction

The Number Crunch
Prayer Partners – 100% (over 100 people are praying for this ministry!!)
Funding – 94% (before Haiti budget change)
Total Times Speaking – 25
Number of Churches Visited – 21
Ways God has Advanced His Kingdom – Too many to count!!

In Sickness and In Health

“I can’t be sick.” I told my mom Friday night, as I raided the kitchen, taking zinc, drinking orange juice, and looking for any other vitamins in the house. “I have to speak Sunday.”

“You’ll be better by Sunday. You just need to rest,” she reassured me. And at her advice, I cancelled my Saturday plans and scheduled a day home in bed. Boy was I glad I did.

Saturday morning I woke up at 6 with a high fever, and aches everywhere. My whole body was weak, and just walking down stairs wore me out. So I took some medicine and crawled back into bed. I stayed in bed with a stack of Kleenexes most of the day, hoping to recover. But when Saturday night rolled around, my fever got even higher, and I began to worry. “What am I going to do about tomorrow?”

I had planned to speak for 20 minutes Sunday morning at a small church nearby. They had given me the entire sermon time, and I had called to confirm these plans on Tuesday. But Saturday night, I wanted nothing more than to cancel those plans.

I imagined myself calling the pastor and saying in a raspy, pathetic voice, “I’m sorry I can’t come tomorrow. I’m sick cough cough.” Though I could see him in a panic scrambling around Saturday night, putting together a message while his kids were fast asleep, I knew he’d have to feel bad for me. Maybe he’d even let me reschedule. Surely I was too sick to speak.

But as I contemplated this cancellation, I remembered a something I had read that day in Sacred Marriage by Gary Thomas. It was in a chapter entitled “Sacred Struggle: Embracing Difficulty in Order to Build Character.” In it Thomas talked about how our difficulties in marriage and in life are opportunities for us to become more like Christ. One quote by Gary and Becky Ricucci stuck out to me. It says, “…God doesn’t protect Christians from their problems—he helps them walk victoriously through their problems.”

I didn’t feel like walking victoriously that night. I felt like curling up and going to sleep. But for whatever reason—maybe it was God’s grace or maybe it was your prayers—at 7:00 Saturday night I decided again to speak Sunday morning. Though I knew it would be tough, it would not be impossible. So I made a plan. I would practice for 20 minutes, pick out my clothes, have my mom iron them, have my dad pack the car, and I would get directions. Then I would drink some more thera flu, get a shower, practice for another 20 minutes, and get to bed by 10 (which was 11 with the time change). The next morning I’d have to wake up in time to take more medicine and lower my fever before going. Then if I could hold it together for 2 hours I could come home and crash.

And this is what I did. The plan couldn’t have went more smoothly. I spoke on Sunday for 20 minutes. It was the first time since Friday afternoon that I had stood up for that long, and I had to speak leaning on the podium the whole time. When I was done, I was still pretty shakey and missed a step walking off stage, dropping my bible to the floor. But I was so excited that I made it through, that I didn’t care about my clumsiness, and the people didn’t seem to either.

The rest of the service was a blessing to me. They took time to pray over me before I left, and several people asked me questions and came to look at my display afterwards. As I talked with them, I was a little embarrassed to think of how close I was to canceling my engagement, and I did my best to look healthy while I talked.

After I got back to my house and had some lunch, I crawled back into bed and slept the rest of the afternoon. This morning, I thought again about the whole thing and felt a big sense of accomplishment. Maybe that’s prideful or silly, but I just felt like yesterday, we won. Satan threw sickness and discouragement and temptation to quit my way, but through your prayers (it had to be prayers I don’t know how else it happened) I was able to stand for 20 minutes, God’s message was shared, and a church was encouraged.

“…God doesn’t protect Christians from their problems—he helps them walk victoriously through their problems.” It’s a quote that makes so much more sense to me this morning, not just in light of marriage but in light of walking with God in sickness and in health.

Blessed by a Broken Car

On February 6, I set out for Marion, IN. The plan was for me to get to Marion February 6th, hang out with friends for a couple of days, speak on Sunday the 8th, and head back to PA Monday morning. But after driving only one hour, my plans were put to a halt.

I was driving just outside of Youngstown, when I ran into some heavy traffic. I hit the brakes and slugged along at 10 miles an hour. This slow pace lasted only a minute or two before traffic sped up again, and I hit the gas eager to get going. As I did, however, I noticed that the car didn’t pick up like it normally would. The RPMs climbed to 4 then 5 while the speedometer was barely reaching 50. At the same time, I noticed a flapping fwhoop, fwhoop, fwhoop noise coming from the car. I needed to find a place to stop.

With a strange calmness, I started scanning for a good place to stop and made my way through the four lanes of traffic to the far right. Within a mile, I’d reached an exit and found a Taco Bell to pull into. Just as I made it into the parking lot, however, I lost all power steering and all the lights came on. I coasted to a stop. I tried to restart the car, but the engine wouldn’t turn over.

And then I realized my nightmare had come true. I had broken down alone. As I let this thought come in, I felt my throat tighten and my chin quiver. “You’re fine,” I reminded myself. Then I called my dad.

I felt much better after arranging for my rescue and informing the Taco Bell employees of my plight, so I walked back out to my car. As I did, I thought to myself, “What am I going to do for three hours? I wish there was a coffee shop around here.” Just as I thought that, I looked up, and noticed a Starbucks across the road. I was so excited.

I grabbed some books, a journal, and some money and abandoned my broken down car for a cushioned chair and a tall white chocolate mocha. As I sat there listening to soft jazz music and scribbling thanks in a spiral notebook, I felt a wave of relief sweep over me. “I don’t have to be anywhere or do anything for at least three hours,” I sighed.

Then I opened up a book I was reading and saw the story of Martha and Mary. “But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made…” it said. It’s the typical bible story about busyness, and we always read how Martha was “upset about many things but only one thing was needed.” I had read it a hundred times.

But this time, in Starbucks with a broken down car, it was different. Why was I so relieved to have nothing to do? Why did it feel so good to read my bible and journal and be alone for three hours that Friday afternoon?

I thought back to the week leading up to Friday. I had spent all week scrambling around getting ready for the weekend. I had worked every day making phone calls, cleaning, packing, e-mailing, and had taken little to no time for myself or for God. I was so worried about all the things I needed to do to be ready to speak on Sunday night, that I had forgotten the “one thing” that was needed. Time with Jesus.

What I Need

At the beginning of December I was really struggling with fear about my finances. I remember looking in my checkbook to write my tithe and getting teary. 10% seemed like a lot to give when I knew I didn’t have enough to pay for the things I needed like dental work, glasses, and college loans. I tithed anyway, but I was still really worried.

To ease my worry, I turned to one of my favorite passages in the bible Matthew 6:25-34. This is where Jesus talks about not worrying about what you’ll eat or wear etc. As I was reading verse 32 really stuck out to me. It says, “For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly father knows that you need them.” Wow! I loved the idea that God knows my needs.

But just knowing that God knows wasn’t enough to stop my worries, so I decided to write my needs down on an index card as a way of giving them to God.

On one side I wrote Needs: - Filling in my tooth (I told him which tooth.)
- College loans paid each month (I wrote the specific amounts.)
- Funding for Swaziland
- Speaking engagements
- Food and housing while I’m speaking
- Transportation to and home from speaking
- Sleep
- Friendship
On the other side I wrote Wants: - winter coat
- glasses

Then, I dated it 12/5/08 in the corner, tucked it into an old journal, and forgot about it.

At the beginning of February, I rediscovered the list. And to my surprise, God has been working on providing for every need on the list! Some of the ways He’s been providing have been a little miraculous, like a waived dental fee, a 76% discount on a winter coat, and a donation designated for traveling costs. Others have been every day, like a steady job so I can make loan payments, having $43 from work to pay the eye doctor, and phone calls from old friends.

God’s been so faithful. When I wrote the list, I was hoping that I would be able to look back and see a couple of ways God provided. But I didn’t expect him to address every need and to do it in less than 2 months! He knows what we need.