Anti-Ordinary

My hair is blowing everywhere and my face is caked with a fresh layer of red dirt. The scene is beautiful as my mind leaves this ride and returns to one very similar nearly four years ago. The view is near the same but the one viewing it is not at all because the One who created it is creating something new in the viewer.

Although sometimes the changes that life brings scare me to death, I have full confidence in a Faithful God. You see I've been here before. I've been in mid air after jumping off an unfamiliar cliff and I've landed on my feet into one of the greatest adventures anyone has ever been on. I look around and I see the faces of a new generation of dreamers, a new generation of cliff jumpers.

The potential brewing in this place is greater than a hunch or a feeling, it's real and I believe in it so much. I believe that God is raising up leaders, mothers, fathers, pastors, doctors, businessmen, children, disciples, and visionaries from this village in the middle of nowhere Malawi Africa to shake the nations. He uses the foolish things of this world to shame the wise. That's the God I Serve!!!

Just when I start to question I'm reminded of the feeling right before the jump. The feeling of uncontrollable excitement over the unknown adventure that is about to unfold and the belief in a God that is big enough to make something incredible out of a little bit of faith that jumps.

I want to live my life jumping, taking insane risks just to watch what God will do. I never want the ordinary to be ordinary. I want extraordinary and I will not settle for less.

Abba I pray for extraordinary moments and I thank you for catching me after every jump. I thank you that I get to live a life of riding in backs of dirty trucks to unknown places, singing in dark rooms to the God of light, laughing in crowded buses with dear friends, eating on straw mats the food of sacrifice and survival, and rocking on a porch with sweet babies that are now seen.

You are a God of newness and change, a God of risks and jumps, A God that catches and sustains, and You are a God that took my ordinary and made it not. I'm Anti-Ordinary and I'll never go back.

I Won't Stop

"You will show me the path of life.; In Your Presence oh God is fullness of Joy and at Your right hand are pleasures forevermore." Psalms 16:11

It doesn’t matter where I am in the world there is one place that I find freedom, rest, strength, and fullness of Joy. 2000 years ago I was given full access to that place. There is nothing like Your presence oh God.

In Ethiopia I saw your presence in a giggle of a baby infected with HIV, in a thank you from a mother receiving a hot meal, in the wide eyes of a girl named Sarah, in the dirty water washed over a widow’s feet, in the modern youth room on the 8^th floor of a nice office building, and in the sweet sound of hundreds inviting Jesus to be their best friend.

Your Presence is thick in this place.

I have found myself on this grand journey to see the world and carry Your Name. But as I go I’m realizing more and more that I am not taking You but I’m finding You, or rather You are finding me. It’s not about a number or a ministry or a church, It’s only about knowing you more. If I have unlimited access to You then I can go anywhere or nowhere at all and still be lost in the joy it brings. Your Presence is a place of freedom that gives me the right to be who you have called me to be.

My prayer is that as I go I will not try to introduce You to a place You already know but rather that everywhere my feet step I declare, “This is a place of freedom, this is the Lord’s dwelling place!” That is my declaration for Ethiopia and that is my declaration for Malawi. May You reign and may You bring freedom. So I will go anywhere or nowhere just to know You and to declare Your freedom. I will point to You all my days so that when others look at me they will only be directed straight to You.

“Begin to know Him---and never stop!”- Oswald Chambers

33 Days!!!!

I haven't been able to think of anything else. My mind has been consumed with the countdown. The countdown until I am back with those my heart loves.

As I spoke with one of my professors today he made a comment about how my face changes when I start to talk about Malawi, its the place that makes my eyes light up. I tear up during prayer and weep during alone time. It's almost time! 33 DAYS!

33 Days until I am back on African soil. The first 15 days I have the incredible opportunity to minister to those who have never heard the good news of Christ! My team and I have the privilege to go and share the love that has been so freely lavished onto us with a people that is so close to our hearts. I am beyond honored that the Lord would allow me to be even a small part of this trip. Then onto Malawi.

I dream about walking down the hill and seeing my kiddos and hugging my mommas. I can almost hear them. It's hard to focus on statistics homework when my mind is so infatuated with the excitement of the tomorrows. So what do I do when I miss them so much I wanna cry and never get out of bed? I look at pictures...Thank God for the camera!

As I was stocking everyone's Facebook who has ever been to Mtendere Village I found this picture of my handsome son.

Jaziel, or Jazzy to me, is the love of my life! My family and I have sponsored him since my first trip to Malawi in 2011. I have watched him grow from a crazy four year old, to a bold 5 year old, then he was a confident 6 year old.  He makes my heart so very happy! I can't wait to be able to be with him again. 

But the thing I really love about this picture isn't just that he is super cute and that he is my son but rather the look on his face. That is not a face of a scared vulnerable little boy. That is not a face of a kid who doesn't think he will get another meal very soon.  That is not a face of a child who is shocked when he gets a second meal of the day because he has never had more than one a day in his life, much less a third! No, that is not his face at all. But it was...

When Jazzy first came to Mtendere he was not used to having a plate full of food three times a day. In fact it was something so bizarre to him that he literally did not believe the other kids at Mtendere when they said that he was allowed to have it again. But now he knows. 

He knows what it's like to eat and be full. He knows what it's like to have new clothes to wear. He knows what it's like to be loved. 

My favorite memory of Jazzy is this past summer when I got to take him into town to get pizza. Jazzy had never been to town and never had pizza before. He loved every minute of it. But my favorite moment was when he looked me straight in the eye and stole MY pizza off my plate. He took a big ole bite and just smiled with cheese coming all out his mouth. I wasn't mad at all, because he wasn't taking it cause he didn't have his own. He wasn't taking it cause he was afraid he wouldn't have enough. He took it cause he knew that I was his family and what's mine is his. He was comfortable enough to receive my love and eat my food. 

Once Jazzy and I were walking through the village and one of the momma's asked him something in Chichewa. He paused for a second then answered. He grabbed my hand and smiled. I later asked the momma what she said. She told me that she asked him if we could understand each other since he didn't know English and I am not the greatest at Chichewa. He paused before confidently answering yes. She looked at me and said "you understand each other because of love not language." I was wrecked! 

Jazzy knows what its like to be full of love. And in just a few short weeks he is gonna get spoiled with love again. I have seen the effects that love has on a child and I will spend every day of the rest of my life to see more kids eat off my plate. 

Sometimes it's hard...

There are moments where it’s easy and there are moments where it’s the hardest thing I have ever done.

Sometimes I forget. Sometimes I get so caught up in my life that I forget that they still exist when I am not there. But then it hits me like a train and I remember.

As I read the email my heart dropped. Multiple emotions flooded me as I tried to compose myself. I am reminded of the importance of the moment.

Two more of my beautiful girls are no longer at the village. I read on to find out that my dear friends have succumbed to the culture’s definition of their lives.

I remember tears rolling down my face as I laughed watching Doro try to learn cheerleading.  I remember dancing and singing so loud that the housemothers rushed out to hush us. I remember running across the basketball court as I watched our girls rise up into their incredible potential. I remember praying over them and hopelessly trying to hold back tears as we said “see you soon”.

I should have been there. I should have taken off the semester like I wanted to and I should have been there for them. I should have said more in the moments I had with them. I should have tried harder to speak true identity. I should have fought for them. Oh God protect them.

In a culture that advocates for premature marriage and motherhood, convincing a young girl that she is worth more than a preconceived negotiation is not an easy task.

But I close my eyes and I remember sitting in a room full of young women with eyes glazed over as we spoke the Father’s heart over them. And  I hope that something stuck…

Two more Lord? Two more don’t finish high school. Two more go back to a place that rejected them. Two more that I will probably never see again…

My thoughts have gone back to these two girls so many times over the past few weeks. I can’t shake it. I miss them and I want more for them. I want to see them succeed. I want to go find them and bring them home. I want to be with the other girls who just lost another person in their lives.

Then God whispers…”The story isn’t over. I’m not done yet…and neither are you!”

So I pray and I wage war for my girls. I will stand in the gap even though I am not there physically because I believe in the wonderful plans that God has for my sweet friends. The story is not over!  Join me in praying for the young ladies in Malawi. Pray that they would realize their identity as a daughter of the Most High and that they would stand confident in that even when the culture says otherwise.

Fading Smudges

It's happening. It happens every time and every time the bitter-sweetness of the moment is just as real as the first time.

The smudges are fading... 

The red-ish brown marks of dirty fingers throughout the pages of my Bible are beginning to disappear. Some would think it better for the pages of the Word of God to be clean, while I respect your stance, I disagree. Because when I see the dirty print of one of my Malawian brothers or sisters on one of the pages its like I'm there again, going on a journey of discovering Jesus with them.

 My memory of the red dust begins to fade and I start to forget. I become preoccupied. While yes my beloved family is always on my mind, life happens. But when I see the smudge during my daily reading or in one of my religion classes suddenly life stops and I'm sitting next to Lekelini in Lumbadzi church and she is flipping through the pages of my Bible as fast as she can. She cant seem to find the book fast enough but I don't help because I love what comes next...she finds the book, chapter, and verse and glances towards me to make sure I know she did it by herself. I tell her through our unspoken look just how incredibly proud of her I am! She runs her finger across the words as the service continues leaving a small strike of smudges behind her.

The smudges remind me of the little unmemorable moments that I told myself to never forget. And yet when the smudges are gone the reminders come less. I still remember the big things, its just the daily life moments that I miss. The smudges fading is a close to a season. It happens every year the smudges, or what ever the significant memory is (once is was my chaco tan line on my feet), fade away. The moment I can't see them any more is heart breaking. It's the moment of reality. But it is also a moment of great joy. It is seeing the closing of one season to bring in the new one! If the smudges stayed forever I would never be able to move past the past. I would dwell daily on the past moves of God instead of pursuing the present move.  I am so thankful for the smudges in life that remind me of what God has done, but I am also thankful that He allows them to fade so that we can move on. I am beyond excited to see what happens this year as my smudges fade and I watch as God cleanses me to prepare me. But yet I still pray and believe in a God who loves the good smudges and He will allow me to see them when I need to be reminded of what He has done so that I will know He is faithful to do it again...and maybe this time next year the smudges will be giant stains that declare the greatness of a faithful God.

Real World

My heart is full. I spent another 6 weeks with these people I have come to love so dearly and could have spent 100 more. People keep asking about being back in the "real world" and Im not so sure that my American lifestyle is that. I think what is over there is real in more ways then we know how to handle real. Let me share with you a few real things that shook my world this summer. 

This is Josen. He is an incredibly an funny and animated little kid. In the top picture he is sitting with my baby Andrew who just turned 4. Josen is five years old but because of extreme malnutrition he gives the appearance of a 3 year old. Since coming to Mtendere he is growing and learning to be loved. He brings so much joy even though he is still suffering the affects of his former life. Malnutrition is a real problem, and Josen is a real victim and he is really beating the odds and living to grow into a healthy young boy. 

I'm learning that my friendships that I have made in Malawi are real. This summer I learned more from my friends at Mtendere then I could ever teach them. Through many afternoons of hanging out, listening to music, eating "chamanga" (roasted maize), and talking about life, real relationships grew. I hear people point out the differences in our lives so often but when I am there more often then not we are talking about the things we share in common. And those are the things that really matter in life. 

I had the incredible opportunity to watch my malawian brothers and sisters and best friends minister to their community in huge ways this summer. The kids at Mtendere organized trips to local villages where they would hold youth rallies and share the gospel with whoever showed up. They brought gifts and they loved on these kids. God did amazing things and I was able to just witness this. 

As I sat and watched, I began to notice the kids that were showing up for the youth rally. They were dirty, some with runny noses or strange rashes, some were taking care of younger children, many of them with ripped clothing. As I sat with a crowd around me, because many had never seen white people before, I couldn't help but realize the incredible miracle that was occurring. These were our kids...

This was the reality that most of our children knew before they were able to come to Mtendere. My friends were these kids. And now they are able to come and minister and love on these kids. In that moment I was overwhelmingly thankful that my "real world" consists of beautiful relationships with 160 amazing young Malawians that are changing their communities and changing people like me who have the privilege to sit and get to know them. 

A Faithful Answer

Last night I was sitting in the dark in a rocking chair on the porch listening to the sound of the village. The moon was bright as I watched the shadows of movement and tried to listen closely to the small voices sharing secrets in Chichewa. I closed my eyes…God You are faithful…

I have graciously said those four words so many times this year. And He is. He is orchestrating a special move of His Spirit in this place. For the past few months my constant prayer for this place is to see God change the lives of these kids from the inside out and that they would respond by sharing this love with everyone they encounter. I desperately want to see them go deeper and grasp the fullness of joy that comes with dwelling with their Redeemer. The past four days God has shown me how He is answering my prayers, and it has absolutely nothing to do with anything I have done. The kids themselves are leading nightly prayer meetings and sharing their testimonies with each other. They have taken the initiative to organize trips to other surrounding villages to go and pray and minister to teenagers and show them the Father’s Love. God is allowing me to participate and witness what He is doing this place. He is faithful!

In the midst of this sweet moment the battle is raging all the more.  A battle that three years ago I refused to listen for, thinking that if I didn’t listen or look then it didn’t exist. Because the truth was I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to realize the reality that so many of my family came from and was constantly surrounded by. I couldn’t imagine the darkness that infuses so much of this culture and tradition. But God has not called me to ignorance but to war. Prayerfully waging war with the God of the angel armies on my side! So as I sat with my eyes closed listening to the sweet sounds of my kids and the horrific sounds of the battle raging around them…I pray with complete confidence in victory.

I am confident in the Father’s love and I am confident that this place will be a place of prayer, joy, and victory. I am confident that this place will be known as a place defined in Kingdom culture. I am confident in a generation of young Malawian boys and girls who choose to live in the Spirit and refuse to succumb to evil because of tradition. I am confident in a God who is able.  

I close my eyes…God You are faithful!