tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53599709665017430192024-02-18T21:03:32.457-05:00Awesome God...Ordinary GirlLess thinking. More doing. Romans 12:1KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.comBlogger290125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-68364419463518673862012-11-05T10:30:00.000-05:002012-11-05T10:30:01.951-05:00Welcome HomeI just can’t to stay away. Somewhere in the brokenness and filth and poverty and overwhelming needs of Haiti, my spirit connects in ways that God says, “Welcome home.”<br />
<br />
So “home” I went two weeks ago. To the people who have captured my heart, broken it and made it new. Along the way I’ve lost track if I go to Haiti to serve, or if by going I’m the one served. Honestly, I think it’s more of the latter. My goings feel far more like a reunion than an outreach.<br />
<br />
To look at Haiti from afar, so many see a one-dimensional portrait of brokenness that’s so easy to paint with a broad brush. But as I’ve gotten closer and gone deeper I’ve discovered there is far more to this country and her people than meets the eye. For one thing, where Haitians lack material wealth they have been blessed with a richness of beauty—of their countryside and of their hearts.<br />
<br />
I admire my Haitian friends’ joy, their faith, their perseverance, their passionate worship, their hospitality. I love their smiles. And I cherish their friendship. In God’s incredible creativity He’s united us together.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW9usu7cQ0HLGKZVnwpuyjWGkzNeKQDsB3qlSspIF3UErccClB0WZ9fRAaQWfn5Y8M_3QrnlHqMASTpnJOZsav2KcRbt7KXOxsi6C5pVshYPUsqgSZPWVb5Pf2GOaNeH3_71mK2N75aY0W/s1600/IMG_0895.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW9usu7cQ0HLGKZVnwpuyjWGkzNeKQDsB3qlSspIF3UErccClB0WZ9fRAaQWfn5Y8M_3QrnlHqMASTpnJOZsav2KcRbt7KXOxsi6C5pVshYPUsqgSZPWVb5Pf2GOaNeH3_71mK2N75aY0W/s320/IMG_0895.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Safe in Haiti with Pastor Valentin, Annie and Wesley</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On my most recent trip our team consisted of only four--Bob, Dave, Jim and me. At first I worried our group was too small, but as the trip unfolded, we all realized that “four” is exactly what God intended. As we traveled, ate, talked, worshipped, painted and sweated (A LOT!) together, each of us marveled at the ways, both large and small, that God shone His light so marvelously for us to see.<br />
<br />
This was a different kind of trip. Slower, more intimate. More time for interactions and adventures.<br />
<br />
While our team was in Haiti, Foundation for Peace held the inauguration for <b>Complexe Educatif Men Nan Men</b> (Hand in Hand Educational Complex). How awesome to be there for the opening of the school I’ve helped work on during the last year and a half—from ground breaking to final painting. The ribbon cutting ceremony brought together the community, future students, government officials, churches, workers and Americans together to celebrate something that doesn’t happen that often in Haiti—shared victory.<br />
<br />
This project stands as testimony to what is possible when God makes a way and we work together. So many hands have dug, pick axed, carried buckets, poured concrete, laid blocks, painted and so much more to make it possible.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>"Men anpil, chay pa lou." (Many hands [make] the load lighter.) </i></span></blockquote>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltNV2lACjl64sVestQXqJRNu8IK-FkTpdNLdfWtzKN5RmVo0baZIBZwzQQkSd9EmVvohHvasF8-9WZHuhpu7rNMdOoqKaGw4203bS8o0YCrAP_2IpSJRvV8v1QpiRPyTXr_M0UVKtyTt5/s1600/IMG_0943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltNV2lACjl64sVestQXqJRNu8IK-FkTpdNLdfWtzKN5RmVo0baZIBZwzQQkSd9EmVvohHvasF8-9WZHuhpu7rNMdOoqKaGw4203bS8o0YCrAP_2IpSJRvV8v1QpiRPyTXr_M0UVKtyTt5/s400/IMG_0943.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first phase of Complexe Educatif Men Nan Men is almost finished!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5S9wuVYC2fsQAsQxmVIK3-PlPCxRbCySonnFFJ7ZvdJVes1tbUmBpLwL592p9GfOB-tMfRB20xyoF3Z-ZiZxMICZ1F1JvdRZnxL442UlFJSdsEEP3ghD-3dIB8bn8cxVJ6r0XfexskE2w/s1600/IMG_1509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5S9wuVYC2fsQAsQxmVIK3-PlPCxRbCySonnFFJ7ZvdJVes1tbUmBpLwL592p9GfOB-tMfRB20xyoF3Z-ZiZxMICZ1F1JvdRZnxL442UlFJSdsEEP3ghD-3dIB8bn8cxVJ6r0XfexskE2w/s400/IMG_1509.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ribbon cutting with Ken Culver (FFP), Hernery (construction boss), Mayor Ralph, Boniface Alexandre (past president of Haiti) andPastor Valentin.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2OjShlwTNnhuvTrCuYgf-0PGutOYAforMgFtN14kTBjGH6ckIY6oxMI4v4iI4o9r2UBdhOfuNi8baLlFaOAZ7GIbaNB5HoA-0fpGX5DeMSlP0AQZOCJt3Nq1cxAoPxBsxlnbLuZs4dG90/s1600/IMG_0942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2OjShlwTNnhuvTrCuYgf-0PGutOYAforMgFtN14kTBjGH6ckIY6oxMI4v4iI4o9r2UBdhOfuNi8baLlFaOAZ7GIbaNB5HoA-0fpGX5DeMSlP0AQZOCJt3Nq1cxAoPxBsxlnbLuZs4dG90/s400/IMG_0942.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wall Woodside helped to build in March.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Besides getting the school ready to open, our team also visited our friends in Kwa Kok, Vilaj Kanez and Vilaj Mirak (formerly Camp Hope). We also made new friends on top of the mountain in Gwo Chwal (Big Horse)—a mountain top experience that will surely be a story to come.
<br />
<br />
Now that we’re home the challenge for our team is to assimilate our Haiti experiences and revelations into our every day realities. And try to figure out how God wants us to respond, grow and reach out differently.<br />
<br />
Dave summed it up perfectly, “I definitely had several days, almost a week of ‘Haiti hangover.’ It was a time where it was hard to focus on anything here. My mind remained in Haiti. It was as if nothing mattered here.”<br />
<br />
And so I will process these experiences, pencil to paper (or keyboard to screen) and continue to travel the journey God started me on in February 2010.<br />
<br />
Some people say they admire me for going to Haiti, or that they’re impressed with what I do there. But the way I see it I’m just an ordinary girl who got on a plane because God nudged her to go. Along the way I discovered a place that breaks my heart in the world. And I can’t stay away.<br />
<br />
Don’t we all need to find that place… No matter where it is?<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwXBfhvITVIi9V7vvgS3qPCus1xrFjeRkCmLuYcrt6AQYJE4KmiBh_Sxw_jvVsFv1As3-p6WOQ2yAHgbkAWIAbdHDo_aZPgiNST_CkGOvPoiGmIzDznuaDGoyxIAon6GSOJGQ51bfOnb5t/s1600/IMG_1067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwXBfhvITVIi9V7vvgS3qPCus1xrFjeRkCmLuYcrt6AQYJE4KmiBh_Sxw_jvVsFv1As3-p6WOQ2yAHgbkAWIAbdHDo_aZPgiNST_CkGOvPoiGmIzDznuaDGoyxIAon6GSOJGQ51bfOnb5t/s320/IMG_1067.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave, forever changed in Vilaj Kanez</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-65472658286652029252012-10-29T12:30:00.000-04:002012-10-29T12:30:01.005-04:00God, Truth and Politics<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“This is the message we heard from Jesus and now declare
to you: God is light, and there is no darkness in him at all.” (1John 1:5)</span></i></span><br />
<br />
A few days ago it was the top story on usatoday.com. “Pregnancy from Rape is God’s Intent.”<br />
<br />
<i>What??!!</i> Incredulous, I clicked to read more.<br />
<br />
The article insinuated that Indiana Senate candidate Richard Mourdock said that it is God’s will for women who have been raped to become pregnant. Women’s groups were in an uproar, politicians treated him like a leper and late night comedians giddily sharpened their pencils.<br />
<br />
I read the article and discovered that Mourdock actually said, “But I believe that life begins at conception. The only exception I have, to have an abortion, is in that case of the life of the mother. I've struggled with it myself for a long time, but I came to realize that life is that gift from god. And even when life begins in that horrible situation of rape, that it is something that God intended to happen."<br />
<br />
That’s a MUCH different statement than the headline promoted!<br />
<br />
While his admission might be political suicide, and you might not agree with what he’s saying, I think Mourdock is struggling with the tough questions that ALL believers struggle with.<br />
<br />
<i>Where is God when things go terribly, horribly wrong? </i><br />
<br />
Does He intend tragedy to happen? Does He see …or care? Is He powerless to do anything? If God is good as He claims to be, how can so many bad things happen to so many innocent people? Like rape, abuse, cancer, earthquakes, hurricanes, murder, crack babies, 9/11…<br />
<br />
In the Bible, Job struggled with questions like these after he lost his family, his wealth, his livelihood, his health and just about everything else good in his life. God <b>allowed </b>Satan to bring tragedy on Job. Did this make God less good?<br />
<br />
For 37 chapters Job cried, lamented, pleaded and struggled with “Why? … Where are you, Lord?”<br />
<br />
Without a bit of apology God finally speaks and puts a tormented Job in his place.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>“Who is this that questions my wisdom
with such ignorant words?
Brace yourself like a man,
because I have some questions for you,
and you must answer them.
“Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?
Tell me, if you know so much.”</i> (Job 38:3-4) </blockquote>
<br />
For four chapters God detailed the depths of His power as creator of the universe. <i>Ouch!</i><br />
<br />
A humbled Job replies:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>“You asked, ‘Who is this that questions my wisdom with such ignorance?’
It is I—and I was talking about things I knew nothing about,
things far too wonderful for me.
I had only heard about you before,
but <b>now I have seen you </b>with my own eyes.”</i> (Job 42:3, 5) </blockquote>
<br />
You and I have to take our own heart wrenching journeys to wrestle with the questions that torment our souls. To accept that while God might or might not intend tragedies to happen, He certainly <b>allows </b>them. To not just know <b>about </b>God, but to <b>see him</b> with our eyes (as Job did). And to trust that in ALL things God is all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving, almighty—ALL the time.<br />
<br />
Isn’t this the essence of faith?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There’s one thing that’s obvious in the Mourdock mess; if the Lord Almighty ran for office, He most certainly would NOT get elected.<br />
<br />
God’s truth doesn’t tickle the ears or bend to please public opinion. It doesn’t soften to satisfy constituents. It doesn’t choose one party or group over another. And it doesn’t “evolve” with the times.
Just look at Jesus. The court of public opinion nailed Him to the cross!<br />
<br />
Thankfully Jesus didn’t come to win elections. He came to shake up the status quo, tear down barriers, redeem, forgive, transform and show us the path to true and everlasting freedom. And He says to all believers—regardless of political party, country of residence or voting status:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>“You are truly my disciples if you remain faithful to my teachings. And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”</i> (John 8:32, NLT)</blockquote>
This is freedom that no tragedy, news article or government can ever take away. KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-855487851147974682012-07-24T09:25:00.000-04:002012-07-24T09:26:00.494-04:00Do I Belong?<div style="background-color: white; color: #3d85c6;">
<i>I wrote this post for <a href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/2012/07/do-i-belong/" target="_blank">Internet Cafe Devotions</a>. Even though it ran last week, I thought I'd share it here.</i></div>
<br />
She was in seventh grade and excited to finally be in one of the
popular crowds. Then one day her best friend—a girl she idolized—handed
her a note. As she read the scribbled words, tears burned her eyes: “I
don’t want to be your friend anymore.”<br />
<br />
And just like that, it was so.<br />
<br />
The
rest of her friends followed the note-writing leader because that’s
what middle school girls do. With one swift kick they booted her out.
Yesterday’s friends now ignored her and talked about her. She was
rejected, alone and heartbroken.<br />
<br />
“What did I do? Why me? What’s wrong with ME?”<br />
<br />
Through the rest of middle school she chose isolation rather than facing the pain of possible rejection from new friends.<br />
Oh,
middle school is a tough road for young girls to travel as they
struggle to find their place in the world. Their transparent actions cry
out, “Do you see me? Am I worthy? Do I fit in?”<br />
<br />
As adults we say,
“Whew! I wouldn’t want to go through that again!” and take solace in
the fact that rejection like this ends in middle school, and that we’re
so self-confident and secure now.<br />
<br />
But are we?<br />
<a data-mce-href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/iStock_000002452487Small-762329crop.jpg" href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/iStock_000002452487Small-762329crop.jpg"></a><br />
Loneliness,
depression and anxiety are epidemic among us. We may have figured out
how to put on our big girl pants and get through the day to day, but
inside so many of us carry wounds from life’s disappointments, hurts and
rejection. Time and again we’ve wondered, “Do you see me? Am I worthy?
Do I fit in?” Often the world has answered—or our inner voice
confirms—“No.” We live believing the lie.<br />
<br />
There’s a woman in the
Gospels who knows about rejection. For twelve years she bled and no
doctor could make her well. Because she was perpetually unclean she knew
oh so well what it was like to have people move aside when she walked
by. To be talked about, excluded and ignored.<br />
<br />
After twelve years
of living as an outcast, surely she craved acceptance, human touch and
affirmation. When she cried out, “Do you see me? Am I worthy? Do I
belong?” a “No!” filled her ears. I imagine the pain of loneliness was
even greater than the pain of her illness.<br />
<br />
Then one day she heard
Jesus was coming. In her heart she knew this was her chance for healing!
Desperate for a cure, she gathered her courage and pushed through the
crowds. Finally she came behind Jesus and touched the edge of his cloak.
Her bleeding immediately stopped.<br />
<br />
Despite the crowds crushing against Him, Jesus said, “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.”<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<blockquote>
<div data-mce-style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>“Then
the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and
fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she
had touched him and how she had been instantly healed. Then he said to
her, ‘Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.’” (Luke 8:45,
47-48)</i></b></div>
</blockquote>
</div>
Jesus’ response touches the women in her most broken places.<br />
<br />
<div data-mce-style="padding-left: 30px;" style="padding-left: 30px;">
<i>Where she’d long received rejection . . . Jesus offered acceptance.</i><br />
<i> Where she was used to being invisible . . . Jesus saw her, and called her forward.</i><br />
<i> Where she’d wanted to remain silent . . . Jesus asked her to testify.</i><br />
<i> Where she expected to be chastised . . . Jesus praised her faith.</i></div>
<div data-mce-style="padding-left: 30px;" style="padding-left: 30px;">
<br /></div>
This
woman pressed through the crowd that day with so many labels dragging
her down— bleeder, unclean, outcast, unloved, unworthy, disgusting.<br />
<br />
Jesus
knew it wasn’t just her body that needed healing. With one touch He
stripped away the lies of who she thought she was and showed her exactly
as God sees her: <i>Daughter</i>. His actions proclaim, “I see you. You are worthy. You belong…to me! Now go in peace.”<br />
<br />
Where are you most broken? Where do you need healing? What lies block the truth of who you are in God’s eyes?<br />
What Jesus said to the woman, He says to you.<br />
<br />
He sees you. He adores you. And He claims you as His own—<i>Daughter</i>. Reach out to Him in faith . . . for just a touch.KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-14550808887622072762012-07-13T14:52:00.000-04:002012-07-13T14:53:15.573-04:00I'll Have What She's HavingWe sat in a circle, talking about repentance and freedom and deliverance and victory. What does it mean? What does it look like? And one question kept coming up, “How? How does this happen … and how can this happen to me?!”<br />
<br />
We tossed around thoughts and a few personal stories. We looked up scripture. Then one friend shared her experiences. <br />
<br />
It was the kind of testimony shared with fellow sojourners, not casual seekers. She talked about intensely difficult struggles, about shattered expectations and disappointments so great they took her breath away—and knocked her to her knees, literally. As the storms raged, she went to her Lord. In sorrow she prayed. In anger she prayed. Through tears she prayed. Through confusion she prayed. With love, she prayed. With gut-wrenching honesty she prayed. <br />
<br />
Through days and months and years, she brought her broken parts to the cross. To Jesus. She’d give and He’d take away.<br />
<br />
Did He make the storm stop or give the answers she sought? An outsider might look at the evidence and say, “No.” But as we listen we know differently. Jesus might not have changed her circumstances, but He changed her heart. The more of it she gave, the more of it He transformed. Her spirit shines so radiantly that everyone sees the light within. <br />
<br />
As she spoke, it struck me—this is what faith looks like. The persistent, passionate, pursuit of our Savior. The willingness to trust, regardless of the outcome. The courage to come with open hands and let go of whatever holds her back, no matter how precious it is. The desperate need for divine sustenance. The humility to realize when she’s getting in the way of God’s doing … again. <br />
<br />
Surely this is why she has a faith we admire, and has experienced deliverance again and again. <br />
<br />
Looking at my friend’s walk with Jesus, I think about the line from <i>When Harry Met Sally</i>, “I’ll have what she’s having.”<br />
<br />
I’m tired of the status quo in my faith. I’m tired of believing the lies of the enemy. I want the kind of deliverance that Jesus promises in the Bible—not as an eventual victory in eternity, but as a here and now reality. I want to walk in the power of the Spirit and be used by the Lord to do great things for His kingdom. I want to get out of my own way and stop tripping myself up before I even get started. <br />
<br />
How about you? So many women I’ve met through the years want a deeper faith. They want to forgive or change or heal or experience intimacy with God. But they are stuck and discouraged. <br />
<br />
Jesus didn’t walk this earth and die on the cross for us to live this way. He says, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” (John 10:10) <br />
<br />
So what’s the difference between us (or at least me) and my friend? I’ll tell you one thing is clear. She approaches her faith like an athlete in training. Disciplined, obedient, committed, passionate. She puts in the time, works through the pain, looks to improve and stays singularly focused on the goal—Jesus.<br />
<br />
If you, like me, want to experience the abundant life that Jesus promises. Here are some bad habits I’ve observed that WON’T get you there:<br />
<ul>
<li>Just going to church on Sunday and spending a few minutes every day reading devotions </li>
<li>Holding Jesus as arms’ length</li>
<li>Adding faith as a hobby or an accessory to life</li>
<li>Not reading the Bible</li>
<li>Sitting back and hoping for the best </li>
<li>Dictating the outcome</li>
<li>Giving Jesus your leftover time and money</li>
<li>Thinking, “I’m not that bad”</li>
</ul>
<br />
As the author of Hebrews tells us,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us <b>throw off everything that hinders</b> and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us<b> run with perseverance</b> the race marked out for us,<b> fixing our eyes on Jesus</b>, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you <b>will not grow weary</b> and lose heart.” (12:1-3)</blockquote>
<br />
Paul instructs, “Run in such a way as to win the race.” <i>Win the race</i>. Not participate in, observe or dabble in.<br />
<br />
Run.To. Win.<br />
<br />
<i>Where are you in the race? </i><br />
<br />KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-75709991596443078152012-05-18T10:31:00.000-04:002012-05-18T10:32:17.920-04:00Shaken to the Core<div style="color: #45818e;">
<i>This devotion is running today on <a href="http://www.internetcafedevotions.com/" target="_blank">Internet Cafe Devotions</a>. </i></div>
<br />
On January 12, 2010 the foundations of the earth shook as a 7.0 magnitude earthquake struck Haiti.<br />
<br />
The already-poorest-country in the Western hemisphere suffered unthinkable destruction. News reports confirmed the ruin, chaos, grief, tragedy.
By all accounts Haiti was devastated. Period.<br />
<br />
Did you know earthquakes foreshadowed major plot shifts in the Bible?<br />
<ul>
<li>Before Moses received the Ten Commandments, “the mountain trembled violently.” </li>
<li>When Jesus was crucified and took his last breath, “the earth shook.” </li>
<li>When the angel rolled the stone away from the tomb, “there was a violent earthquake.” </li>
<li>When Paul and Silas sang hymns in prison, “there was such a violent earthquake that the foundations of the prison were shaken.” </li>
</ul>
<br />
I imagine the witnesses focused on the chaos, shock and ruin of the earthquakes. But knowing what came next, I hear God saying, “Don’t focus on the shaking earth and get stuck there! Look at me. Watch what I’m going to do!”
I’m giving you The Law.
I’m overcoming death.
I’m giving you eternal life.
I’m building my church.<br />
<br />
The earthquakes weren’t the end of the story; they were the beginning. It’s been said, “Don’t put a period where God intends a comma.”<br />
<br />
In the two years since the earthquake in Haiti, futility, hopelessness and despair abound. Each news report draws circles around the period at the end of the story called Haiti.<br />
<br />
But God.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<h4>
<i>"God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging." (Psalm 46:1-3) </i></h4>
</blockquote>
<br />
The earthquake drew me to Haiti to work with the <a href="http://www.foundationforpeace.org/" target="_blank">Foundation for Peace</a>. Relief has turned into rebuilding and ongoing care.<br />
<br />
During each visit to Haiti I see momentum building and the story growing. I hear God saying, “Don’t focus on the shaken earth and get stuck there! Look at me. Watch what I’m doing!” <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/553998_328130747254095_110731138994058_879131_1678450952_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/553998_328130747254095_110731138994058_879131_1678450952_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Newly rebuilt boats ready for fishing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Recently I received an update on the work FFP had been doing since my team’s departure in March. They:<br />
<ul>
<li>Distributed shoes to children and Bibles to adults in a poor village, and they helped rebuild the village’s three fishing boats. </li>
<li>Finished building a house for a woman and her children who’d been living under sheets. </li>
<li>Held a worship service where a voodoo priest and his family gave their lives to Jesus. (It took an hour to burn all of his voodoo trinkets.) </li>
<li>Continued to build the vocational school started last year—the only school of its kind in the region. </li>
</ul>
<br />
God is telling a story of glory in Haiti.<br />
<br />
In our own lives earthquakes will happen. Natural disasters. Death. Divorce. Cancer. Financial woes. Heartbreak. Our foundations will be shaken to their core.<br />
<br />
But God says,
“Be still…”
Relax.
Pause.
Add a comma.
“…and know…”
Experience for yourself.
Take my truth into your soul.
Turn toward me.
“…that I am God.”
Your refuge and strength.
Your ever-present help in trouble.
Your fortress and deliverer.<br />
<br />
Has your foundation been shaken? Is God calling you to "Be still, and know…?"
Where is He writing a story of glory in your life?<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">If you'd like to learn more about Foundation for Peace and the work they do, and even join an upcoming trip, <a href="http://www.foundationforpeace.org/" target="_blank">click here</a>. </span></b>KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-38290592427932312482012-05-09T06:00:00.000-04:002012-05-09T06:00:06.445-04:00Gym Time and Jesus<div style="color: #3d85c6;">
<i>I wrote this for <a href="http://www.internetcafedevotions.com/" target="_blank">Internet Cafe Devotions</a> last month and thought I'd share here.</i></div>
<br />
I love Thursday morning spin class at my gym. It’s intense, sweaty and leaves me feeling exhausted in a great way.<br />
<br />
A
spin bike is stationary, of course. So no matter how hard you pedal,
the bike remains in exactly the same place. Yet, every week my
competitive streak flares and I try not just to survive spin class, but
to “win” it. Throughout the class I compare my perceived effort to
others. I try to keep my gear and cadence above what the instructor
calls out. And I glance at the digital displays on the bikes of nearby
riders to see if my “numbers” are better than theirs.<br />
<div data-mce-style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
<br data-mce-bogus="1" /></div>
<a data-mce-href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/iStock_000003743305XSmall.jpg" href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/iStock_000003743305XSmall.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-16075" data-mce-src="http://internetcafedevotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/iStock_000003743305XSmall.jpg" height="212" src="http://internetcafedevotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/iStock_000003743305XSmall.jpg" title="Working out" width="320" /></a>Recently
my bike was “tighter” than usual and during the class I struggled to reach
even the lowest gear range the instructor called out. I looked at my
fellow pedalers. <em> </em><br />
<br />
<em>They’re doing it, why can’t I?</em><br />
<br />
My heart
pounded. Sweat flowed off my forehead and down my back. Yet, I felt
discouraged. At the end of the class my body said, “Wow, tough workout!”
But my mind said, “You’re weak—loser!”<br />
<br />
The next week, the bike I
chose shifted easily. Throughout class, instead of lagging behind, I
stayed several gears ahead. A quick glance around the room confirmed, <em>Yep, you’re beating them!</em>
My adrenaline pumped and I finished class feeling victorious. It didn’t
matter that I wasn’t as fatigued as usual, or that the victory came on
an “easy” bike—I “won” spin class.<br />
<br />
Letting a fickle machine and
the perceived performance of strangers validate and invalidate my
results is silly of course. But my competitive nature can be my fatal
flaw: I constantly compare myself to those around me—and use them as my
barometer. When tail winds of affirmations, praise and success make the
ride easy, I feel great…and worthy. When the head winds of rejection,
stress and failure press me back, my spirits sink. Up and down goes my
self-esteem.<br />
<br />
All around us, every single day, the mirrors of life
reflect who we are, what we’re worth and where we fit in. They label us
(and we label ourselves) by what is seen: <em>Popular, smart, beautiful, talented, winner … Weak, rejected, fat, stupid, loser.</em><br />
How
this must grieve our Savior. That we believe these fickle, flawed
labels instead of the heavenly ones He so preciously obtained for us:<br />
<br />
<div data-mce-style="padding-left: 30px; text-align: center;" style="padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;">
<em>Forgiven … worthy … accepted … known … victorious … redeemed ...</em></div>
<div data-mce-style="padding-left: 30px; text-align: center;" style="padding-left: 30px; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
His
Word shatters false labels and shows us our true reflection. “If you
belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do
not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. As the
Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love.” (John
15:9,19)<br />
<br />
One day I hope this amazing truth permeates into the
center of my being, because isn't the greatest victory to truly know and
accept the love God has for us? To that end, I pray as David did:<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<blockquote>
<div data-mce-style="text-align: center;">
<strong><em>“Search
me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See
if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way
everlasting.” (Psalm 139: 23-24)</em></strong></div>
</blockquote>
</div>
I’m still going to try to "win" spin class, but there's only one label I want to wear as a crown of victory ...<em> beloved</em>.KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-42780604852286557442012-04-24T06:00:00.000-04:002012-04-25T08:52:50.312-04:00I Love You NotI have a confession to make.<br />
<br />
I have hate in my heart.<br />
<br />
For years I’ve tried to overcome—to be the better person. I’ve tried ignoring. I’ve tried accepting.<br />
<br />
See … me and this machine … we’re in a battle. It's game on. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBEJRXnOknslwCtJaCH0DbUZs5H0_WyqMn84Yx4d3YgwhZPx-GmDHejKr_HNyi8iSpz1AeB2OhC_SmWpH-bX4hzJB5p07LWYFS0bKOyJNtNwW_izTnsT-X3mqx5ggxD50rbun98u8Whj_n/s1600/IMG_0297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBEJRXnOknslwCtJaCH0DbUZs5H0_WyqMn84Yx4d3YgwhZPx-GmDHejKr_HNyi8iSpz1AeB2OhC_SmWpH-bX4hzJB5p07LWYFS0bKOyJNtNwW_izTnsT-X3mqx5ggxD50rbun98u8Whj_n/s400/IMG_0297.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
My emotions are so raw that writing this makes my pulse quicken and my insides tighten. Oh, the ill will I direct its way. The thoughts of its demise I imagine. It's stolen the joy from a household chore I actually <i>like</i>!<br />
<br />
I think it knows my contempt and is out to break me. The wretched thing is a beast. It’s cumbersome and clunky. The self-propelling quit long ago and I have to drag it across the carpet. It’s built for someone six inches shorter, so I end up with a backache from stooping. The handle digs into my hands. And the motor roars like a jet taking off.<br />
<br />
Just about every cap, cover, filter and extra part has cracked, broken or fallen off. The electric cord has 36 gouges in it from being run over. The housing is littered with paint marks from being run into doorways and furniture—and from falling down the steps several times.<br />
<br />
You know what really ticks me off? What keeps me from opening the front door and hurling it into the front yard every time I use it? As much as I loathe admitting this, it vacuums really well. Dirt and dog hair are no match for its suction. My practical side won't let me buy a new one.<br />
<br />
That leaves us in a standoff … me and this machine. I keep hoping it will suffer a fatal wound—like electrocution. Yet, it refuses to quit. How many favored appliances have headed to appliance heaven well before their time?! This monster won’t die. Seriously, it could take on a Timex.<br />
<br />
So, the hate grows and the battle ensues.<br />
<br />
I set my sights on a glimmer of hope in the distance. My birthday, anniversary and Mother’s Day are coming up. The trifecta of gift giving. Oh, how a girl can wish.<br />
<br />
Dan … hello? Are you listening?KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-8670707587576944522012-02-06T08:53:00.000-05:002012-02-06T08:53:21.251-05:00A Wretch Like Me<div style="color: #45818e;">
<i>For reasons I've yet to logically explain, God's led me to some places that are way outside my ordinary—like prison. Here I've met people I may have crossed the street to avoid, looked down on in judgement or never even encountered. Yet here I also meet people whose transformed lives show me the incredible, indescribable, incomprehensible love of Jesus whose amazing grace sets us free—ALL of us. Today at Internet Cafe Devotions I share about one of those experiences. </i> </div>
<br />
I wish you could join me for a church service in the prison I visit
regularly. Together we’d experience praise that’s loud and joy that’s
overflowing. We’d see worship that’s raw, transparent and vulnerable.<br />
<br />
An
outside guest recently shared his testimony. “I was a stone cold drunk
for 20 years. Sometimes I’d be driving on the expressway and I’d be so
drunk I’d roll down the window, throw up and keep driving. I did crystal
meth. I was into pornography, adultery, thieving.”<br />
<br />
I cringed at
the raw and ugly details of a life so obviously devastated by sin. And I
marveled as he proclaimed God’s redemptive and transforming grace.<br />
<br />
In
the broken places of this world I continually hear similar testimonies
from people who had hit bottom and literally had nowhere else to
turn—except to Jesus.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a data-mce-href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/9193.jpg" href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/9193.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" class="alignright wp-image-15292" data-mce-src="http://internetcafedevotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/9193-1024x568.jpg" height="222" src="http://internetcafedevotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/9193-1024x568.jpg" title="Lock and Chains on Old Doors" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(<a data-mce-href="http://www.creationswap.com/media/8788" href="http://www.creationswap.com/media/8788">image credit</a>/Creation Swap)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Sometimes I get serious spiritual whiplash
going from the active, out-loud faith in the prison to the cautious,
silent faith in the suburbs.<br />
<br />
In a community Bible study I attend,
most of the upper-middle class women are seeking faith and have been
part of the group for years. Yet even though they’ve heard lots of solid
biblical teaching, it seems few have grown. Requests for personal
testimony are usually met with uncomfortable silence. Many still seem to
hold Jesus at arms’ length.<br />
<br />
You and I don’t have to literally be
in jail to be imprisoned. We can be locked behind bars made of things
stronger than steel. Things like doubt, fear, hurt, anger, pride,
jealousy, insecurity, worry, guilt. The list goes on.<br />
<br />
In suburbia the greatest barriers to life-changing faith might be the comfort and materialism of our affluent lives. <strong>Who needs a savior when we live in kingdoms of our own making?</strong><br />
<br />
Plus, we’re not wretches. At least not like the man who shared his testimony!<br />
<br />
<strong><em>Or are we? </em></strong><br />
<br />
[<a href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/2012/02/a-wretch-like-me/" target="_blank">Read more...</a>]<strong><em><br /></em></strong><br />
<strong><em><br /></em></strong>KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-25189642713872147512012-01-20T06:23:00.000-05:002012-01-20T06:23:00.445-05:00From Good to Better...to Best<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
Hello flashing cursor and blank white page. It’s
good to be back, my friend. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Has absence made your heart grow fonder? Or will you
chastise me for neglect? I have excuses at the ready to explain my time away. Some
good, some lame. But honestly I’ve neglected you for a simple reason—my
attention has been focused elsewhere. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
And it’s been a good thing. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
2011 was a different kind of year. It
brought a season of stripping away as God taught me some hard lessons about
holding loosely onto the ways I serve Him. See, I kept a tight grip on the ministries I’d been
involved. To me these things were a big part of how I
defined myself as a Christian servant. They gave me joy and filled me with
pride and I think occasionally bore fruit. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
But truth is, the joy was past tense and the
staying was out of obligation. I soldiered on because I thought that’s what I was supposed
to do...and God wanted me to do. Plus my ego confirmed, “You can’t leave. This is who you are. They
need you…who will take your place?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Yet in several areas I knew the time had come
to say goodbye. And in the walking away I didn't feel regret or remorse as expected, I felt relief and renewal and peace.
Yes, it was time. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
My empty calendar beckoned, “Fill me up. Don’t be
idle. Get busy!” But God said, “Be still.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
And in the in-between-time He allowed my empty
hands to grasp more tightly to the passions He’s led me to. And He opened up new
ways of serving Him and His people. Often in unexpected ways. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
But my writing voice remained quiet. The words set
aside, seemingly content to be stored away. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lord,
are you calling me from writing, too?</i> In time I’ve felt His answer, “Give
voice to the stories I give you.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
After our last trip to Haiti last October I saw
this confirmed as God provided amazing opportunities to share our stories from Haiti. In the telling, people were touched, hearts were softened and eyes
opened. Others were blessed and I was too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I know God’s given me a gift with words but I’ve struggled with my role as a writer. For a while I tried to imitate successful writers' habits. But I could never sustain the focus and drive needed to earn the title, "Writer." Guilt followed my lack of discipline. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
It's been rewarding to have my words reach others. And exciting to dip my toe in the pool of publication. But I realized I’ve jumped into the writing dreams of others. And this held me hostage. During my break from
writing I’ve come to understand that I don’t have a burning passion to
write (and that’s OK)... but I do have a passion to tell the stories that God is so
vividly writing on the tablets of my heart. Stories of Haiti and the prison.
Stories of His amazing grace. Stories of love in action. Stories of adventures
with my Guide. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Writing is an extension of my greater calling. An integral part of it. So I look forward to 2012 with open ears and an
expectant heart. Excited to see what stories God will tell anew and which ones He’ll continue. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
In the beginning of Philippians, Paul says a
prayer for the Philippians that strikes me as the secret to success for this
Christian journey we’re on: “And this is my prayer: that your love may abound
more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to
discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled
with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory
and praise of God.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
His prayer has become my prayer: to grow in love
and wisdom so that I can discern good and best. Just because I CAN do something, doesn't mean I SHOULD do it. Sometimes "No" is the best answer. I don't know if what I'm doing now is the best, but I do know it's better. And in that I'll keep striving for discernment. Because with the "best" comes with the abundant blessings of Christ. And that, my friends, is where I want to be! </div>
<br />
What good (and not so good)
things are you clutching? If you loosen your grip, what might Christ give you to hold?KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-33343382301209801622011-12-13T08:53:00.001-05:002011-12-13T08:54:54.329-05:00Special Delivery<div style="color: #3d85c6;">
<i>With Christmas shockingly near, maybe you've been cramming with online shopping as I have. The UPS trucks in the neighborhood confirm I'm not the only one! Inspired by our usual UPS driver I have a "brown" devotion on<a href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/2011/12/special-delivery/" target="_blank"> Internet Cafe Devotions</a> today. Happy Christmas!</i><br />
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote>
<div data-mce-style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>…let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.</i>” (Matthew 5:16, NIV)</b></div>
</blockquote>
</blockquote>
Tess,
my yellow lab, hears it before I do and runs to the window barking. Her
response is more urgent than the usual ruckus aimed at dog walkers and
taunting squirrels. This is a full-blown, red-alert, “Hurry! Let me out!
It’s time!”<br />
I read her obvious signals and drop what I’m doing to open the door.<br />
<br />
Tess
runs to the edge of the yard and sits patiently. She waits hyper-alert
and expectant. Her tail quivers with excitement. Her head cocks as she
listens intently. As the familiar rumble gets nearer and the target
appears in view, she barks frantically, “Over here! Over here! Over
here!”<br />
<br />
See, every afternoon the UPS truck comes into our
neighborhood. Personally I think the daily arrival of the big brown
truck is fairly exciting because it means something fun could be on its
way to me—like a book or clothes I ordered, or even a present.<br />
<br />
But to Tess, our UPS driver brings something <b><i>waaaaay</i></b> better than packages. He brings dog bones.<br />
<br />
And
every day—whether he has a delivery for us or not—this driver stops at
our house to give Tess a Milk Bone. The other day he even backed down
the street because he wasn’t turning our way and didn’t want to overlook
his furry, frantic friend.<br />
<br />
This routine makes Tess so happy and
it tickles my heart as well. The man’s kind gesture is a bright spot in
my day. Now I too look forward to his daily visit.<br />
<br />
More than that,
his example shows me how a simple yet faithful act of kindness can make
a big impact. Something we may brush off as “no big deal” can encourage
someone just at the moment they need encouraging, or lift their spirits
just when they need lifting. <<a href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/2011/12/special-delivery/" target="_blank">Read more..</a>.><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a data-mce-href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/IMG_2607_b.jpg" href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/IMG_2607_b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-14000" data-mce-src="http://internetcafedevotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/IMG_2607_b.jpg" height="398" src="http://internetcafedevotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/IMG_2607_b.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-33083960023020588562011-12-08T06:45:00.001-05:002011-12-08T06:56:44.711-05:00Awesome Sauce<i style="color: #3d85c6;">This devotion got lost in the Thanksgiving festivities at <a href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/2011/11/awesome-sauce/" target="_blank">Internet Cafe Devotions</a> so I'm offering it as a second helping. Admittedly it's not very Christmas-y, but the message is a tasty treat any time of year. </i> <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV0G7QU0uNWYBaxNtuFusg2AqC_RF3OSVccuAwpEtGdg4JAJy3oNSGhYHC9YgblHeHsZZpOz0HYmimNvmVt9Riwym_urRrz1_K_wpdcCoPR3rucIS8RADzUHOK9nwp92B6OxFMcbhzx2vI/s1600/tomato.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV0G7QU0uNWYBaxNtuFusg2AqC_RF3OSVccuAwpEtGdg4JAJy3oNSGhYHC9YgblHeHsZZpOz0HYmimNvmVt9Riwym_urRrz1_K_wpdcCoPR3rucIS8RADzUHOK9nwp92B6OxFMcbhzx2vI/s320/tomato.jpg" width="320" /></a>At the end of October my spindly tomato plants gasped their last
breath. The tomatoes’ cracked skins, rot and dark spots told of the
ravages from too much rain, cooler temperatures and lessening sunlight.<br />
<br />
Although
they’d be rejects at any produce market, I picked what I could and
brought my battered harvest inside. Since they didn’t look appealing to
slice and eat, I decided to make sauce.<br />
<br />
I concocted a simple
recipe, added the chopped tomatoes, and left the sauce to simmer for a
long time. When the time seemed right, I nervously took a taste.<br />
<br />
I
was amazed! The sauce was awesome—nuanced, sweet and delicious! It
shouted, “Blasphemer!” to the jarred sauce in my pantry. I marveled at
how a bowl of ugly, half-rotting tomatoes became something so
magnificent.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I feel like one of those late season
tomatoes--overwhelmed by imperfections, cracks and flaws. I feel
battered by bad habits, rejection, insecurities and the lies of the
enemy. <i>Certainly God, you’d rather choose someone more perfect and
appealing.</i><br />
<br />
But I know in my heart this isn’t the way God sees me. Or any of His children.<br />
<br />
During
His ministry, Jesus’ went out of His way to find the “bad fruit”—like
Samaritans, prostitutes, adulterers, lepers and tax collectors. Those
who’d been stamped “unacceptable” by society, He gathered them close to
forgive, teach, heal and love. It was to the most flawed and the most
unlikely that Jesus revealed His Truth and amazing grace.<br />
<br />
When the
grade A fruit—the Pharisees—asked Jesus why he wasted His time with the
rejects He answered them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but
the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to
repentance.” (Luke 5:31-32)<br />
<br />
My translation says: “I have not come
to pick the reddest and most perfect fruit; I’ve come to gather the
bruised, rotting and broken to make something glorious with them.”<br />
<br />
Jesus says this to me and He says it to you.<br />
<br />
Maybe
you feel like you’re less than perfect. That you’re more bad fruit than
good. That you belong in the compost pile. Know that this is where our Savior does His greatest work. His grace redeems our spots, cracks and
rot. His strength makes our weakness perfect.<br />
<br />
Where we see ugliness, God sees beauty. Where we see failure, He sees possibility. Where we see flaws, He sees perfection.<br />
<blockquote>
<div data-mce-style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>But
he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made
perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about
my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for
Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in
persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.’”
(2 Corinthians 12:9-10, NIV)</i></b></div>
</blockquote>
Just as a
pot of half-rotting tomatoes simmered over a flame was transformed into
magnificent sauce, our broken, sin-filled lives refined by the fire of
the Holy Spirit are transformed into glorious new creations.<br />
<br />
That is Awesome Sauce!KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-32955520820846046392011-11-17T04:30:00.000-05:002011-11-17T04:30:02.871-05:00We Are . . .<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
Penn State. Words of honor and glory, now
associated with shame and disgrace. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The scandal that’s rocked the country has hit me
and my family hard. My husband is a diehard Penn Stater and I, by marriage,
have inherited this love. Our blue and white hearts are broken—for so many
reasons. It feels like there’s been a death, and in a way there has. This heartache
is shared by millions in the Penn State family. The vile acts by an evil man have
shattered the lives of innocent children, and have turned a collective dream—of
an idyllic place and idolized people—into a nightmare. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I wonder how a crime like this could happen at
all. But especially, how could this happen at Happy Valley. I’ve jokingly
referred to Penn State as “the holy land,” because it truly is a special and
revered place. It was our Camelot.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
As news unfolded and details never-imagined-possible
came to light, an angry lynch mob swelled—fueled by 24/7 cable TV. Countless
words have been written, commentated, editorialized, shouted and discussed.
Everyone has an opinion about Joe Paterno and the Penn State leadership. Finger pointing has become a competitive sport. Blame
is being tossed out like confetti at a concert.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The moral high ground is a mighty crowded place
right now. <i>"I would have done this..."</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Justice will surely have its day. It must. But when I look at this from a different perspective, the thing that strikes me most about the mob of onlookers and finger pointers is their stunning lack of grace. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
To all those holding pitchforks and flaming
torches, I ask, “Who are you?”…and, “How <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">good</i></b> do you really think
you are?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Scripture surely paints a dim view of our inflated
sense of goodness:</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i>“There is no one righteous, not even one; there is
no one who understands; there is no one who seeks God. … Their mouths are full
of cursing and bitterness. Their feet are swift to shed blood; ruin and misery
mark their ways, and the way of peace they do not know. There is no fear of God
before their eyes.” (Romans 3:11, 15-18)</i></div>
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Did you hear that? Not one of us is good. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
NOT. ONE. OF. US.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Do you know that there’s someone else who didn’t
act as nobly as he should. In fact he acted like a coward. It was Peter.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
At the last supper Jesus told Peter, “Truly I tell
you, this very night, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three
times.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
But Peter, confident of his character and goodness,
declared with the utmost conviction, “Even if I have to die with you, I will <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">never</i></b>
disown you.” And all the other disciples said the same. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Yet only hours later, as Jesus was tried before
the Sanhedrin, Peter cowered outside in fear. When confronted about knowing
Jesus, Peter didn’t defend Him, he denied him—three times—just as Jesus said he
would. The next day Jesus was crucified. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
If this scene played out today on CNN and Fox News,
Peter would have been in the crosshairs of a furious mob. “What kind of person
would do something like that!” Commentators would pick apart his character and
lack of it. He’d be personally blamed for Jesus’ death. And under insane media
pressure the disciples would fire Peter from their group and his name would be forever
stained. Because the court of public opinion had rendered its decision: “Guilty!”
</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Thankfully and remarkably Jesus doesn’t operate as
we do. Where we condemn, He forgives, loves and restores. He knows full well the mess we are. He
knows we fall far short of the mark, no matter how hard we try. And He knows
that no matter how good we think we are, we are ALL sinners in need of a
savior. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
That’s why He came. That’s why He died. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i>“…for all have sinned and fall short of the glory
of God, and all are<b> justified freely by his grace</b> through the redemption that
came by Christ Jesus. (Romans 3:23-24)</i></div>
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
In her <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Beloved Disciple</i> Bible study Beth Moore says, “When someone falls they are not
necessarily a fraud—often they are just foolish. Wise is the man or woman who
realizes he or she, too, could momentarily deny Christ. May we never withhold
from another something that—in due time—we may desperately need.” (p. 50)</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Jesus didn’t cast Peter out as we would have, He did
something far more shocking. He gave him grace. </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
And He does the same thing for each of us. <i>Amazing grace that saved a wretch like me...</i><br />
<br />
In this time of justified outrage, betrayal and
hurt can we do the same? If we say we follow Jesus, do we really have a choice?<br />
<br />
We are...<br />
...forgiven<br />
...redeemed<br />
...restored<br />
...justified<br />
...loved<br />
...His.</div>KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-82205507096372148692011-11-08T05:03:00.000-05:002011-11-08T05:03:01.101-05:00UndignifiedIt doesn't matter what era or continent we live on. What age or gender we are. How rich or poor; holy or sinful; educated or ignorant. When our Creator knit us together in our mothers' wombs, He put His fingerprints all over our souls. And He gave us a universal love language to connect with Him: worship. <br />
<br />
Since the beginning, worship has bound God's faithful together. And torn them apart. <br />
<br />
After King David brought the Ark of the Covenant back to his city, the people erupted into spontaneous and enthusiastic praise of God—singing, dancing and playing instruments. The most unrestrained of them all, perhaps, was David who "danced before the LORD with all his might."<br />
<br />
His wife Michal watched the goings on from a window and thought David's behavior was downright detestable. She greeted him with a verbal slap across the face: "How the king of Israel has distinguished himself today, disrobing in
the sight of the slave girls of his servants as any vulgar fellow
would!" <br />
<br />
Yet, even stinging criticism couldn't dampen David's joy. "I will celebrate before the LORD. I will become even more
undignified than this, and I will be humiliated in my own eyes."<br />
<br />
I marvel at David's freedom. But for me—and many of those I know—undignified... humiliated... foolish... in worship? Not likely.<br />
<br />
In Haiti there's a rural village called Kwa Kok (Cross of the Rooster). There's no church or school there and the residents have to walk two hours to reach the nearest church. As a result most of them just don't go to church.<br />
<br />
The Sunday I was in Haiti we brought church to Kwa Kok. Under the
branches of a massive shade tree we set up the chairs we'd brought.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aDJVUuZaEbs/TriYyHXTwFI/AAAAAAAAClc/mV7ZzaWD9T0/s1600/IMG_0170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aDJVUuZaEbs/TriYyHXTwFI/AAAAAAAAClc/mV7ZzaWD9T0/s400/IMG_0170.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Church To Go." Do NOT try this at home! (Yes the truck is moving!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
People gathered to check out the commotion. They went back to their homes to clean up and put on their Sunday best. Some returned with their own chairs and benches. Soon the seats were all filled and it was standing room only. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hCQkcsD7Fc4/TriYySn9fJI/AAAAAAAAClg/2duScv05ZOY/s1600/IMG_0203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hCQkcsD7Fc4/TriYySn9fJI/AAAAAAAAClg/2duScv05ZOY/s400/IMG_0203.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Folks quickly changed into their Sunday best.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Pastor Valentin (our Haitian leader) and his wife led the service. Others offered songs and prayers and testimony. The worship was beautiful. And humble. And reverent. No one seemed to notice that we weren't in an actual church. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1VFY3wfOZVI/TriYxth5CMI/AAAAAAAAClY/QxhdanNs9Lw/s1600/IMG_2257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1VFY3wfOZVI/TriYxth5CMI/AAAAAAAAClY/QxhdanNs9Lw/s400/IMG_2257.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Part way through the service there was a disturbance. Behind the worship leader (in full view of the congregation) was a dirt lane, and coming down this lane was a man. But he wasn't walking. It seemed he was horribly crippled and only had the use of his left arm, which he was using to drag himself along the dirt to make his way to church. He was filthy and other than wearing a t-shirt, he was completely naked.<br />
<br />
At first I was shocked and horrified by the scene. I'd never seen anything like this before, certainly not at church! I wasn't sure how to respond.<br />
<br />
But the service never skipped a beat as the man joined us. A few helped him sit on a bench. Then, in what seemed like seconds later, Dessalines (from our Haitian team) walked over to him with a pair of boxer shorts that he and Pastor Valentin helped the man put them on. I remember thinking how remarkable it was that we had an extra pair of shorts with us. <br />
<br />
I found out later that we didn't have an extra pair. In a split second, Dessalines made the decision to go into our bus, remove his boxer shorts and give them to the man. Not because someone asked him to do it, but because he loves Jesus—and this is what Jesus would do. (I'm not sure there was a dry eye among us Americans as we witnessed this stunningly beautiful scene.)<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I6eBlIufaVc/TriYzIk5K0I/AAAAAAAAClo/oOZ3_DKOYnk/s1600/IMG_2289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I6eBlIufaVc/TriYzIk5K0I/AAAAAAAAClo/oOZ3_DKOYnk/s400/IMG_2289.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The man is there on end, to the right. He sat there all through worship and VBS, clapping as he could. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The man stayed with us all afternoon. Perhaps having church in Kwa Kok was an answer to his prayers. I imagine he heard our singing and decided that no matter how difficult or painful it would be, he had to join us. Did he hope for healing? As he made his was down the dirt path, naked and filthy, did his determination waver as he felt the eyes of the congregation upon him.<br />
<br />
Maybe some muttered their disapproval or whispered to their neighbor, "How he distinguished himself today, disrobing in the sight of the Americans as any vulgar fellow
would!"? <br />
<br />
And yet, surely he responded, "I will celebrate before the Lord. I will become even more
undignified than this, and I will be humiliated in my own eyes."<br />
<br />
And in his celebration we experienced the love language of worship. <i>Mesi Senye!</i>KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-7585926403915662392011-11-02T16:48:00.000-04:002011-12-08T06:57:15.312-05:00There's No Place Like HomeHaiti. Ayiti. Land of high mountains.<br />
<br />
To most of the world, Haiti is about mountains of rubble. Tent cities. Intense poverty. Violence. Government corruption. And death. It’s about brokenness so broken it can never be put back together.<br />
<br />
It’s a place we pity. Or fear. Or despise.<br />
<br />
To me Haiti is about people and stories and relationships. It’s about beauty and culture. Determination and perseverance. Faith and family. And most of all love. In Haiti God’s love—for others and for me—seems most real. And I feel the most free to share this love.<br />
<br />
God has given me many wonderful gifts in my life. Haiti is one of the most wonderful.
Why this is true is still a mystery to me. But it is true nonetheless.<br />
<br />
This was my third trip to Haiti and it was amazing in its own special way. Going back now is like a homecoming—returning to a place that holds my heart and visiting with friends who now seem like family.<br />
<br />
Because our group (of six) was especially small so I had lots of time to deepen relationships with my Haitian friends and get to know them better. Our days followed the traditional model of <a href="http://www.foundationforpeace.org/" target="_blank">Foundation for Peace</a> trips: worship in Haitian churches, work at the construction site (we’re building a large vocational school), morning and nighttime group devotions, VBS for the children and a day at the beach. This time I even got to teach English in a school that FFP runs. It was in fact, the same school that my church helped to build!<br />
<br />
There are so many stories to share of what I witnessed and experienced. I hope to capture them here so that you see some of the beauty Haiti beholds, and you get a glimpse of a God bigger, more powerful and more faithful than you imagine.<br />
<br />
Most of all I hope that these stories inspire you to search your heart for where God is calling you. Where does your heart break for His children? Where is He calling you to follow?<br />
<br />
P.S. We are already planning our return trip in March. This trip is open to anyone who wants to join us. No special skills are required. If you live nearby, come to an informational meeting at <a href="http://www.woodside-church.org/" target="_blank">Woodside Church</a> on November 13 at 11:00am. Otherwise, send me a note to let me know you’re interested and I’ll add you to our list.<br />
<br />
<i>Glwa pou Bondye!</i> (Glory to God!)<br />
<i>Bondye beni ou! </i>(God bless you)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqVBRPYYLdrMLcBO2QyfWd-WHI4k479hdJDv9UWtaRPcWgwFoBGi8ZJUeulGjl-F6uLwJQyUj4RFQ1zE3O_YZUHhoummjLymj8ZdbD5EZY1qSoIwYWhqUsnk44CE6wv-PUkWQqGvDV9TBs/s1600/IMG_2268.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqVBRPYYLdrMLcBO2QyfWd-WHI4k479hdJDv9UWtaRPcWgwFoBGi8ZJUeulGjl-F6uLwJQyUj4RFQ1zE3O_YZUHhoummjLymj8ZdbD5EZY1qSoIwYWhqUsnk44CE6wv-PUkWQqGvDV9TBs/s400/IMG_2268.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Children in a remote village (Kwa Kok) who came to our worship service and VBS. How their clothes are so white astounds me. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpkYD3Qvlx2qGWPmzx701OwrliZ1tUYG4442JXhwFdYl_qolLs2Q7Ayh6HVLGq7UQS-GJus0CXkQ2oHtup1pjXNdxb13BYHZgwFfQjnAKbwX5V1bccr7RYG-FuX08h1aEqB-2opCZGL62/s1600/IMG_2248.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpkYD3Qvlx2qGWPmzx701OwrliZ1tUYG4442JXhwFdYl_qolLs2Q7Ayh6HVLGq7UQS-GJus0CXkQ2oHtup1pjXNdxb13BYHZgwFfQjnAKbwX5V1bccr7RYG-FuX08h1aEqB-2opCZGL62/s400/IMG_2248.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My little friend at a worship service...who I finally got to smile.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbBLjo9FzoY4ddyRoPEKWja6Q9pRUP0iOQ10xov4WZPrdDf4Wm4z0AeMOFW_4jb1ZBvqG9qFx9ZXUxYhtE8RNUmR-xObpwS-8RKcMovPxXnR7DcXgIVmlI_1eMjv8Rg_klSBBm7teHhQ0P/s1600/IMG_2330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbBLjo9FzoY4ddyRoPEKWja6Q9pRUP0iOQ10xov4WZPrdDf4Wm4z0AeMOFW_4jb1ZBvqG9qFx9ZXUxYhtE8RNUmR-xObpwS-8RKcMovPxXnR7DcXgIVmlI_1eMjv8Rg_klSBBm7teHhQ0P/s400/IMG_2330.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The massive cathedral in Port-au-Prince, devastated by the earthquake. Walking around felt like walking in a tomb. Very intense.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading home from my big adventure teaching -- with Eben and Dessalines.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our friends on the worksite. Amazing men and such hard workers! <i>Bon travay, zanmi mwen!</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">VBS at an orphanage.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-21494556875534573312011-10-13T03:30:00.000-04:002011-12-08T06:57:15.303-05:00Going to Visit a Piece of My Heart<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Wow, it's been a long time since I've posted. Life's been busy and priorities have been focused elsewhere. One thing I've been doing is learning to design websites in WordPress so my brain cells have been happy.<br />
<br />
Thought I'd jot off a quick few words to share my exciting news.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow at this time I will be in the place that has captured my heart more than any other--Haiti. I and two others from my church are flying to Port-au-Prince tomorrow morning. We're heading out for another 10-day short-term mission filled with construction of the vocational school we in March, vacation Bible schools and best of all we'll get to hike again into the mountains to distribute water purification tablets to residents of a rural village. I also hope to connect with old friends...and make new ones. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's the school that we broke ground on last March. We spent the entire time digging foundation trenches. This time we'll get to build concrete block walls.</td></tr>
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Our team is small...only six of us this time...but I know that though we are few, God is equipping us to be His army. He has prepared the work for us to do. And He knows just where we need to be and whom we need to reach.<br />
<br />
Haiti is the one place that breaks my heart for God's people more than any other. The land and the people have captured my heart and a part of it lives there the 345 days I'm back home. My spirit is "right" in Haiti and I feel peace and connectedness in a way I don't at home. To say that I'm excited surely doesn't express the deep longing I have to return.<br />
<br />
<br />
I am longing to see my Haitian friends, especially my "son" Jude. God crossed our paths and linked our hearts for a reason. I pray I get a deeper understanding of that on this visit. His life is so hard and I feel so powerless to really make much of a difference. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jude and I.</td></tr>
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Our last trip to Haiti was so amazing I
know this time will be different, but I trust that God has something
new, but just as wonderful in store. Please pray for our team. For our safety. For the work that we'll do.
For the people that we'll serve. For the worship that we'll share. For
the relationships that we'll deepen. Pray that through it all God is
glorified. I especially pray that God shows me
how to carry this passion and purpose into the other 345 days of my year. <br />
<br />
<i>Where does your heart break for God's children? </i><br />
<i>Where is your "Haiti?" </i><br />
<i>What are you doing to get there?</i>KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-37371307828088297622011-09-19T10:43:00.001-04:002011-09-19T10:43:36.594-04:00Poser? Or One of Us?I used to be a cyclist.<br />
<br />
Twelve years ago, after a short but scary battle with cancer, I valued my health as a gift and wanted to do something with it to help others.<br />
<br />
I joined the local chapter of Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s<a href="http://www.teamintraining.org/"> Team in Training</a>—a group that uses marathons, biking and triathlons to raise money for cancer research. I’d long wondered if I had it in me to do a long-distance event.<br />
<br />
In the cold of winter we started training for the Santa Fe Century, a 100-mile bike ride. I resisted buying all that ridiculous looking bike attire and an expensive road bike. Seriously, does anyone look good in that stuff?<br />
<br />
Months passed and the miles added up. Eventually vanity gave way to practicality. I gave in and bought the jerseys, the shoes and even the road bike. I finally looked—and felt—like a cyclist.<br />
<br />
May came and our team flew to New Mexico for the big event. The Santa Fe Century was a difficult, incredible and exhilarating life experience. As a result I continued with Team in Training and did lots more bike riding in the subsequent years—on my own, with my team, at local events, with local clubs.<br />
<br />
Besides discovering that I really don’t enjoy biking more than 50 miles at a time, I found that cyclists are a pretty exclusive bunch. In cycling circles, you are without a doubt judged by your gear, your attire, your bike’s fancy extras and your street cred—especially when you’re
a woman. The more advanced the group, the more they seemed to say:<br />
<br />
“Are you one of us … or are you a poser?” <i>||<a href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/2011/09/poser-or-one-of-us/"> KEEP READING...</a></i><i>||</i><read rest...="" the=""></read>KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-42526324914894729652011-09-11T21:23:00.001-04:002011-09-11T21:23:27.595-04:00You Are Our HopeDevastation. Terror. Horror.<br />
We sit in the ashes.<br />
Where is our hope?<br />
<br />
The father of lies sneers,<br />
“Look. I have taken away your security
and confidence and innocence.<br />
I have taken away your family and possessions.<br />
I have destroyed your foundations.<br />
You cannot overcome the darkness.<br />
All is lost.”<br />
<br />
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<br />
Shock. Anger. Grief.<br />
We stare in disbelief.<br />
Where is our hope?<br />
Death overtakes the light.<br />
But for a moment.<br />
Amid the fires of hell.<br />
We lift our eyes.<br />
Where does our help come from?<br />
<br />
Even now.<br />
Especially now—our hope is in You.<br />
In the midst of hell.<br />
We feel the nearness of heaven. <br />
You are our rock.<br />
Our fortress and our strong tower.<br />
In this storm, and every storm.<br />
You lift us out of the muck.<br />
And set us on solid ground.<br />
<br />
You give and take away.<br />
Blessed be your name.<br />
Praise you oh Lord.<br />
You are faithful.<br />
And steadfast.<br />
And true to your promises.<br />
<br />
Out of the rubble and the chaos.<br />
Your make beautiful things out of the dust.<br />
You are making us new.<br />
Day by day.<br />
We are broken, but not destroyed.<br />
<br />
No one.<br />
No action.<br />
Nothing can take away what You give.<br />
In You, we are victorious.<br />
Praise be to You O God.<br />
Our savior and redeemer.<br />
<br />
On 9/11.<br />
In Haiti.<br />
In death, disasters and destruction.<br />
You are our hope.<br />
Today and always.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>This song wrecked me when I first heard it in a slide show on Haiti. It's become a favorite. Today a special choir at church sang this song. It was comfort from heaven. </i><br />
<a href="http://youtu.be/OR7VOKQ0xJY">Beautiful Things by Gungor </a><br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/OR7VOKQ0xJY" width="420"></iframe>KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-20463962745343146292011-08-25T19:34:00.003-04:002011-08-25T19:34:54.381-04:0029 Ways to Stay Creative<a href="http://www.jonacuff.com/blog">Jon Acuff</a> is an amazing writer/blogger--probably my favorite. This video was on his blog today. It's so clever and well-done that I wanted to share it. My favorite is #17. What's yours?<br />
<br />
<br />
<iframe frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/24302498" width="400"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/24302498">29 WAYS TO STAY CREATIVE</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/tofudesign">TO-FU</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-85025308373889259122011-08-23T03:46:00.000-04:002011-08-23T03:46:00.591-04:00Garden PrimerToday marked a personal first.<br />
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I ate a cantaloupe grown in my own garden.<br />
<br />
Now before you admire my exceptional gardening skills, let me tell you—this has been my worst year gardening.
<br />
In March I planted cold-weather seeds like lettuce, pea, spinach and arugula. I pictured bushy plants and the bounty of salads we’d have. And I waited with anticipation for the seeds to germinate and the plants to grow—“35 days to harvest” the seed packets promised.<br />
<br />
I waited. And waited. And waited. 35 days became 50, then 70...<br />
<br />
A few sprouts emerged. The peas gave early hope of success. But just when the peas started to climb their trellis, a critter got to them. It was a pea pod massacre.<br />
<br />
Seemingly frozen in time, tiny shoots of lettuce didn’t grow. And I’m not sure the spinach ever germinated! It all gave new meaning to the term “micro greens.”<br />
<br />
Discouraged, but not defeated, in May I set my sights to the summer planting. I added compost and fertilizer to spruce up the soil. Tiny tomato, cucumber, zucchini and melon plants made their home in my garden. Yet again, I had hope.<br />
<br />
At the end of June (100 days after planting) I discovered that the lettuces had finally grown enough to be picked. Excitedly, I snipped off some tender leaves and went inside to concoct a salad. I took a bite. Mmmm! Wait … does the lettuce taste bitter? Nah. Well, maybe… but it’s not that bad, really.<br />
<br />
The next week I picked a leaf of lettuce and bit it. The bitter flavor filled my mouth. “Yuck!” I said and spit it out. Lettuce season was officially over. One, one-person salad was the extent of my harvest. I ripped out the plants to make room for the summer bounty.<br />
<br />
The good news is that I’m having the best tomato season I’ve had in a long time. Gazpacho, BLTs, tuna stuffed tomatoes, tomatoes and mozzarella, and plain old sliced tomatoes have been dietary staples for the last month.<br />
<br />
The other summer plants showed promise. Now the cucumber vines are yellowing and ready to bite the dust. The zucchini got a root rot after only a few weeks of producing fruit. Now the condition is spreading to the melons and they’re dying too. Plus, the weeds are taking over, too.<br />
<br />
But how exciting it was to discover a cantaloupe growing in the giant tangle of melon vines! Our first one—ever. Sadly, however, it might be the only one.<br />
<br />
So yes, I’m bummed about the unfruitfulness of my gardening efforts. My gardening motto has always been “low maintenance.” I plant and water, and fertilize a little bit. Veggies grow. We pick them. We eat them. I don’t want to go to a lot of trouble.<br />
<br />
In my personal and spiritual life I want low maintenance, too. I‘ll sow seeds to share the gospel, till the soil of my gifts, fertilize a friendship or water a ministry. And I expect to see results.
<br />
<br />
But often, like my garden, there is no harvest. A friendship doesn’t blossom. Efforts to share my gifts are unfruitful. A ministry withers. I’ll be honest. My response isn’t to dig deeper and try harder. It’s to reassess and move to greener pastures. I don’t want to waste my time—or suffer the disappointment.<br />
<br />
In any type of garden—real or metaphorical—it’s hard to keep going when we can’t see the results.
But doesn’t this attitude run contrary to the gospel message? Isn’t our motivation for more than what is evident before our eyes? Aren’t perseverance and generosity key components of living a life surrendered to the Master Gardener?<br />
<br />
Indeed, God’s Word offers instruction: “Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously. And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.” (2 Corinthians 9: 6, 8)<br />
<br />
I hear Jesus saying, “Keep going. Keep sowing. Keep tending—in all your gardens—one cantaloupe, one heart won for me at a time. Don’t strive for results you can see. Strive because you love me. I will bless your efforts abundantly. Take time to plant and to water, but know that it is I alone, who makes things grow. Trust me to take care of the harvest.”<br />
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This week wild weather hit our area. Thunderstorm after thunderstorm dumped buckets of water on my flailing garden. Mini-floods surrounded it. And even hail pummeled it. The wounded plants are history and the living ones are limping.<br />
<br />
But, the skies will clear and the sun will dry the soil. Bountiful harvest or not, I’m not ready to quit. After all, fall lettuce planting season is right around the corner and I have hope.<br />
<br />
Lettuce, anyone?KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-23693907547302231462011-08-20T16:06:00.001-04:002011-08-20T16:07:12.693-04:00Slip Sliding Away!It's been a wild week of weather here. Blue skies filled with puffy clouds have quickly turned black as one thunderstorm after another has come through. After one wicked storm--that even included hail--our backyard looked like creekside property. Taking advantage of this rare opportunity, my son headed out for some fun. We all had a great laugh. I thought you might too!<br />
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<br />KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-32726407942920129532011-08-16T08:19:00.000-04:002011-08-16T08:19:44.858-04:00Traveling Lessons<div style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<i>It's a statistical fact that most young adults turn their backs on the faith of their childhoods. As a parent, do you worry that your kids' faith is equipped for the journey into adulthood? What steps are you taking to prepare them? I'm writing about this today on the Internet Cafe. Grab a cup of coffee and join me <a href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/2011/08/traveling-lessons/">there</a>.</i></div>
<br />
I want to thank Harold Camping.<br />
<br />
Not because I think the May 21st-end-of-the-world pastor offered much useful information to end times conversations, but because he got people talking. Personally, all the hubbub spurred me to have the “S” talk with my kids.<br />
<br />
Not that “S” talk, the other one—salvation.<br />
<br />
On separate occasions, I talked one-on-one with my 16-year-daughter and 13-year-old son and asked: “If the world ended today, would you go to heaven?”<br />
<br />
Both answered, “I don’t know.”<br />
<br />
I followed up, “What do you think you need to do to get into heaven?”<br />
<br />
Their responses ranged from “I’m not sure” to “go to church and be a good person” to “believe in God.” Neither of them mentioned Jesus.<br />
<br />
Their answers surprised and saddened me since my kids have grown up going to church. When they were little they learned about Jesus at Christian preschool, Sunday School and Vacation Bible School. Back then they were willing and eager faith participants with whom I’d sing Bible songs and teach simple lessons about God. <i><< <a href="http://internetcafedevotions.com/2011/08/traveling-lessons/">Continue reading ...</a> >> </i>KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-82692669511877208692011-08-12T09:03:00.000-04:002011-08-12T09:03:16.992-04:00This Wandering Heart<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Falling back.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Backsliding.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Straying.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Wandering.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
It’s our inclination. Our human nature. Our inner
compass. We set out to follow God, but we get distracted, complacent or seduced
by something else. We follow our whims and desires. And travel in a different
direction. Isaiah wrote about this heart condition: “All of us,
like sheep, have strayed away. We have left God's paths to follow our own. “
(53:6)</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Again and again we trade in God’s plan for our own. It
makes being a Christian darn hard work. Impossible work it seems sometimes. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
In our prison ministry backsliding is a common theme. Several
of the inmates gave powerful testimonies this week in the church service. One inmate
told how he’d been actively involved with a prison ministry, coming in every
week (like our group does). Through tear-filled eyes he shared how he’d “fallen
away” a few months ago and done things that landed him in prison. Now he was
the one being ministered to. Humbled and broken, he still trusted God’s plan
for His life. He encouraged the men, especially those getting out soon, to
stick closely with Jesus. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
“It’s so easy to stray,” he cautioned. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
His words touched us all. And they got me thinking. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
So many of the inmates love the Lord and want to start a
new life with Christ. But their home environments are filled with drugs,
violence, gangs, crime and broken families. When (or if) they get out, the
cards are so stacked against them to become productive, law-abiding citizens,
let alone faithful followers of Jesus. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
When they return home it’s so easy to wander
back into their old lives and habits. The consequences of doing so are
likely harsh and dramatic—putting many right back in prison. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
In my own life it’s so easy to stray as well. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
So often I choose my own way instead of God’s. I squander
my gifts. I get lazy about prayer, Bible study and devotions. I get distracted
and neglect God. And more than anything
else, I let the ebb and flow of life lure me into complacency, busyness and
comfort. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Certainly my prediliction to wander isn't a bad as the inmate's, right? For starters, I probably won't end up in prison. <br />
<br />
Yet, in God's eyes, isn't the end result the same? Haven't we both made the same choice: our own way over God's? Aren't we both left with parched souls and hearts far from the Lord?<br />
<br />
Doesn’t my backsliding
grieve God just as much as the prisoners’? In fact, might it grieve Him more?
After all He has given me every good gift to succeed: education, money, a
loving family, security, opportunity, freedom. The odds are stacked in my
favor. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
But I know even these blessings aren't enough to stay the course. <br />
<br /></div>
Thankfully God knows the fatal condition of our wandering hearts and
gave us the cure—Jesus. <br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
“But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was
crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and
by his wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us
has turned to our own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.“
(Isaiah 53:5-6)</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
</div>
Sinner, saint and soccer mom. We are all sinners saved by grace.Not one of us can stay true to God’s path on our own. To
each of us, Jesus invites, “Come to me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
And come we must. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing: </b>verse 4</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<i>O to grace how great a debtor</i><br />
<i>Daily I’m constrained to be!</i><br />
<i>Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,</i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Bind my wandering heart to Thee.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Prone to leave the God I love;</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Seal it for Thy courts above. </i></div>
</div>
KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-16162020296006719602011-07-26T14:30:00.001-04:002011-07-26T14:31:16.083-04:00Hasta Luego!<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
It's almost time to say goodbye. Our three weeks with our
Spanish student is coming to a close. In three hours we'll be heading to the
airport for our final farewells. Right now our kids are enjoying one
last American outing bowling and clinging to our last moments together.</div>
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<br /></div>
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It has been a wonderful experience in every sense. Norma,
our student, was a lovely guest. Everything we could have hoped for. She and my
daughter bonded immediately. And my son, initially shy, opened up and was
teasing his new "sister" in short order -- the international boy
language of acceptance. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Since two of our neighbors also hosted students we've all
spent lots of time together. There's been dinner at a local Spanish restaurant,
a camp out, game nights, cookouts, Hershey Park, bowling and just hanging out.
My daughter has been able to joion the students on some of their trips and
she's really gotten close with the group. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Last night was the goodbye dinner. Spanish dishes were
shared, stories told and hugs shared. Being together and seeing the emotions
all the families and students shared really consolidated the amazing experience
this was for everyone involved. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I am so thankful we took a chance to do this, not really
knowing what it would be like. Our entire family has been tremendously blessed
by meeting Norma, making her part of our family and sharing rich experiences
together. While our final goodbyes will surely be tear-filled, we have expanded
our hearts and opened our lives to new Spanish friends. Ones we will hopefully
visit our Spanish friends in the future. And maybe this will be the start of a summer tradition. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Hasta luego. Dios te bendiga! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying a day at the beach and learning to boogie board</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6YjlusBCHDE1HvCdJFIk7hTNG87QO4kcRPXRM7A0Xv6GjymLVub7FlJcKKSSAJbj8lJOyh65deG7IU7j-yzmJqZtVhRly70tGrSuHdfvKJ_CLKIDaSRNnkoKu2Zb3QNRe0UUhx69pHHbX/s1600/IMG_1461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6YjlusBCHDE1HvCdJFIk7hTNG87QO4kcRPXRM7A0Xv6GjymLVub7FlJcKKSSAJbj8lJOyh65deG7IU7j-yzmJqZtVhRly70tGrSuHdfvKJ_CLKIDaSRNnkoKu2Zb3QNRe0UUhx69pHHbX/s320/IMG_1461.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hermanos y hermanas</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">American and Spanish hermanas</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Escaping the heat at the Trenton Thunder baseball game</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making an authentic Spanish dish </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9yAOLEJZY_8g-bHjeBELXNv50iSHKJTLi2SLQAIAxlEHXQSSqXf9sAeq8CyVfMQBmsYTmPxOCBp7OrQxFi_VZB4BH-VwMBA7ogFtjUkklq8LzgXhmpvMFlC07jC3ehNmSlW7DQAniYwBx/s1600/IMG_1508.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9yAOLEJZY_8g-bHjeBELXNv50iSHKJTLi2SLQAIAxlEHXQSSqXf9sAeq8CyVfMQBmsYTmPxOCBp7OrQxFi_VZB4BH-VwMBA7ogFtjUkklq8LzgXhmpvMFlC07jC3ehNmSlW7DQAniYwBx/s320/IMG_1508.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tortilla Espanola and Empanda. Delicioso!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRaiL8Z9LQ-Da8iLWsUvjgBR3KDvURbfzBKL0_0YLqoGAd3E24VByu1GYmYiqZ9i1ogF0UlQxLeCmhe1yTIGKrUJW3e7kNtkzOK0eME057qplOiEOG6a-pum2uEo6xdD3baBuNu6FzDRRd/s1600/IMG_1548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRaiL8Z9LQ-Da8iLWsUvjgBR3KDvURbfzBKL0_0YLqoGAd3E24VByu1GYmYiqZ9i1ogF0UlQxLeCmhe1yTIGKrUJW3e7kNtkzOK0eME057qplOiEOG6a-pum2uEo6xdD3baBuNu6FzDRRd/s320/IMG_1548.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the students at the goodbye party.</td></tr>
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KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-61454235655209050952011-07-21T17:45:00.002-04:002011-07-26T12:10:34.052-04:00Give Me Some Relief!So many thoughts. So little time. I have many half-written ideas sailing about in my head, looking for a place to harbor to rest and unload. But in the storm that summer brings, they're finding none and drifting out to the far reaches of my consciousness, hoping to set anchor another day.<br />
<br />
Right now the number one topic of conversation is the heat. Here in the Philadelphia area it is 98 right now. Tomorrow is supposed to be hotter. Much of the country is under a sweltering blanket of blistering misery during the nation's worst heat wave in years.<br />
<br />
I write this from the luxury of my air conditioned home and savor the respite we have from the stifling heat. But, if you're 40 or older, chances are you didn't grow up with air-conditioning. You lived with fans and shade trees and swimming pools and cold glasses of lemonade. Life was sweaty and uncomfortable, but it went on. <i>(I didn't live in an air-conditioned house until 13 years ago!)</i><br />
<br />
As I read the paper this morning I couldn't help think that when it comes to the heat, we've become a bunch of crybabies. Somehow since the beginning of time, societies survived and even thrived without air conditioning, yet now we view this modern luxury at the top of Maslov's Hierarchy of Needs along with food and water.<br />
<br />
The issue specifically in my cross-hairs is that in order to save a substantial amount of money, Bucks County (where I live) has <a href="http://www.phillyburbs.com/news/local/courier_times_news/bucks-backs-off-on-power-cutback/article_ffbf8a1b-c24f-500d-8720-32973aa0b6fd.html">decided to turn off the A/C</a> in county buildings for three hours (from 3 to 6pm) on the hottest days of the summer. The County Commissioners call it, "a shared sacrifice." The temps inside county buildings, including the prisons, are rising to about 84 degrees.<i> (My daily thermostat is set at 80.)</i> Complaints are coming in saying this is akin to abuse. That it's intolerable, punishing and inhumane. They say people are getting sick and fainting. <br />
<br />
Seriously?! Three hours without air-conditioning is abusive? Have you been to Haiti or Somalia . . . or even your own inner city? A/C schmacy. The world is filled with people living without homes and food and clean water. And three hours without cooled air is insufferable? Imagine our soldiers in Afghanistan wearing full body armor in 140 degree heat, weighed down by an automatic weapon, ammo and gear. That, is a sacrifice!<br />
<br />
In our quest for lives lived in climate-controlled comfort I fear we lose sight of the bigger picture. Of the better things. Of the truly important and valuable.<br />
<br />
As followers of Jesus, we're supposed to live life differently. If you and I can't survive trial by summer heat, how will we survive the trials by fire? God says, "See, I have refined you, though not as silver; I have tested you in the furnace of affliction." (Isaiah 48:10) Heat burns. And refines. And makes pure and precious.<br />
<br />
Heat is a necessary part of the process: "These [trials] have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater
worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result
in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed." (1 Peter 1:6-7)<br />
<br />
And in this life it's a given: "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)<br />
<br />
<i>Will we accept the refining by fire . . . or will we hunker down in air-conditioned comfort to escape the heat?</i><br />
<br />
ETA 7/26/11: Last Friday was 102 degrees . . . plus humidity. It was horribly hot and I spent the day inside the air-conditioning crying like a baby! <i><br /></i><br />
<br />KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359970966501743019.post-60780364780429543742011-07-12T06:28:00.001-04:002011-07-12T06:28:01.731-04:00Not Good . . . but Better!It’s no secret I have a yen for home improvements but with bathrooms and front doors finished, and no plans for the near future, I've been getting a little antsy. So I set my sights on improving the space right here...my blog. Welcome to my spruced up corner of the blogosphere.<br />
<br />
I’ve been writing here for more than three years—sporadically more than anything, but pressing on nonetheless. It's been a place I've pondered and processed and grew and shared. As I reflect on these last years—almost 300 posts and tens of thousands of words written—I see that while I've changed the look of my blog, God has changed me.<br />
<br />
When I started writing here I was playing lots of tennis and having a great time with it. Much of my days were filled with tennis matches and drills and lunches with friends. Life was good and full and carefree. But tennis had become more than a hobby; it was more like a part time job (that I paid for). And something inside told me that God hadn’t put me on this earth to spend my days that way—that He had more planned for me.<br />
<br />
I pulled back from tennis a bit, but continued to play competitively. And then in a match almost exactly three years ago from today, I went for a shot and hurt my elbow badly. The diagnosis? <a href="http://awesomegodordinarygirl.blogspot.com/2008/06/clay-achin.html">Tennis elbow</a>. What should have gone away in 12 weeks lingered for months. I saw many doctors and therapists, and tried all sorts of treatments. Nothing worked. “Give it time,” most of the specialists said. <br />
<br />
The fall tennis season started without me and I <a href="http://awesomegodordinarygirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/stuck-in-middle.html">mourned the loss</a> of a big part of my life. I looked for ways to fill my surplus of free time and started to write more. I started to focus less on myself and more on others. I discovered gifts I didn’t know I had. And my relationship with God became more intimate and personal. <br />
<br />
When I look the last three post-tennis years, I am amazed at the places God has led me. How He’s changed my outlook and centered my thoughts on His work. His children. His purpose for my life. <br />
Since I set down my tennis racket, I’ve:<br />
<ul>
<li>Been to <a href="http://awesomegodordinarygirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/great-conference.html">writers’ conferences</a></li>
<li>Joined a writers’ group.</li>
<li>Had stories and articles published (and actually got paid!)</li>
<li>Been on—not just one—but four <a href="http://awesomegodordinarygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/who-me.html">mission trips</a>. And have plans for more in the near future.</li>
<li>Developed a deep love for missions and <a href="http://awesomegodordinarygirl.blogspot.com/2010/04/love-its-all-you-need.html">Haiti </a>in particular.</li>
<li>Joined the <a href="http://awesomegodordinarygirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/most-unlikely-place.html">prison ministry</a>.</li>
<li>Backpacked the <a href="http://awesomegodordinarygirl.blogspot.com/2010/04/love-its-all-you-need.html">Grand Canyon</a>.</li>
<li>Confronted (although not conquered) my fear of public speaking. </li>
<li> Made close friends who have a heart for writing, for missions and especially for the Lord.</li>
</ul>
<br />
I don’t know why I hurt my elbow…or why it refuses to get better. Was it bad luck? An accident? Divine intervention? Perhaps. I do know that when one door closed, a wonderful path came into view. One I started on reluctantly, but now travel enthusiastically. On the road I’ve experienced God in rich and powerful ways. He’s opened my eyes and broken my heart to love His children. And He’s awakened a sense of adventure that is such a part of who I am now. <br />
<br />
With the improvements God’s done in me, it’s fitting my blog reflects that change. I no longer see myself as primarily a thinker. A ponderer. An observer. Now I’m a do-er. A risk taker. An adventurer.<br />
<br />
And with our awesome God as my guide I’m discovering I’m not so ordinary after all.<br />
<br />
We may be happy and comfortable in our lives, but our plans are not always God’s plans, and the good things we do are not always the best He has in store.<br />
<br />
<i>Where is God be leading you from "good" to "best" ... from thinking to doing?</i><br />
<br />
<blockquote>
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the
renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what
God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." (Romans 12:2)</i></span><i><br /></i></blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zdnwkBLkGbU/S5k0TSx31dI/AAAAAAAAAvk/W2bPsuHzsrg/s1600/IMG_3947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zdnwkBLkGbU/S5k0TSx31dI/AAAAAAAAAvk/W2bPsuHzsrg/s320/IMG_3947.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haiti and Me . . . March 2010</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />KelliGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00261710060954867880noreply@blogger.com9