Respond.

This is one of those posts that I've hesitated in publishing. It's more of a personal monologue, but something inside me is prodding me to share it.

Life so easily becomes a revolving doorway of what I can get out of it. More than ever, this 'young adult' age category I'm in causes me to constantly reflect and anticipate how I can get the most of my present and future. Who I choose to be with, who chooses to be with me, how I can constantly maximize my time and money, what credentials I can chalk up to reach the next rung of the ladder. I even bring my faith into it, how I am stretching my character, how I am actively ministering and being received by others, etc...

In my life I see all of these facets melting together and presented to God as if to say, 'Here you go. Here's what I've made of myself.'
And then waiting for a response. Waiting in expectation for acknowledgement or rewards, or for some kind of perfect story to unfold.

God does not respond to what we do; we respond to what God does. 

~ Romans 3:27 (The Message)

Once again, this Living Word on my coffee table makes me want to squirm. Makes these 'God in a box' theories get pounded and washed away by the simplest black and white truths.
Paul states it plain and simple. He explains here that God isn't the one responding to us. Instead, it's the other way around.

The fog lifts. Exposing the ideals and idols that I've so carefully constructed for myself.
Hasn't it always been about God? 

Always has, and always will. He designed for me to live in line with Him for sake of His glory. And as Paul writes, to RESPOND to Him, not expect a response.
Because He's working. Moving. Teaching. Building. Beckoning us.

To openly receive and give His gifts back to Him, not selfishly hoarding them on my own merit. Not building up a list of righteous acts so that I can use them like a credit card on the things I've been wishing for.

With this revelation in my heart, I want to live my life as a response to the character of God. His love, His justice, His power.
Oh Lord, may you continue to cause me to stumble on these truths and beckon me to continue on, ever chasing after You. Ever responding to only You.

Stories.

KaraLynn sent this article out to us girls on staff last week.
I've been reading it almost every day since, and feel like it's about time that I share it with the rest of you. So read, and be challenged.

Your Story Must Be Told ~ By Shauna Niequist (taken from relevantmagazine.com)

For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes: first to the Jew, then to the Gentile.
   Romans 1:16 NIV  

MY LIFE IS not a story about me. And your life's not a story about you. My life is a story about who God is and what He does in a human heart. There's nothing small or inconsequential about our stories. There is, in fact, nothing bigger. And when we tell the truth about our lives—the broken parts, the secret parts, the beautiful parts—then the Gospel comes to life, an actual story about redemption, instead of abstraction and theory and things you learn in Sunday school.

If you want your community to be marked by radical honesty, by risky, terrifying, ultimately redemptive truth-telling, you must start telling your truth first. If we allow the Gospel to be told only on Sundays, only in sanctuaries, that life-changing story will lose its ability to change lives. When Christ walked among us, He entrusted the Gospel to regular people—not just religious professionals. If you have been transformed by the grace of God, then you have within you all you need to write your manifesto, your poem, your song, your battle cry, your love letter to a beautiful and broken world.

The Giver.

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights. ~ James 1:17

This month, I've been able to dwell on this verse and tangibly see and testify its truth. I've seen miracles in my lifetime, but I have to say, this one takes the cake.
Rewind back to October 2009 with me... This is where it all began, when two children left their footprints on a dusty trail, and on my heart.

That evening, the sun sank below the horizon and so did my hope.  I dialogued and journaled for days, trying to chase down the answers to my questions.  Days turned to weeks.  I knew there was a reason that I had crossed paths with these children.  The unsettled feeling in my stomach told me that this was not the end of the story.  I had to see Shaylyn and Senson again and meet their families.  Little did I know what doors the Lord would open, and to what magnitude He would reveal His presence and provision.

Since that first meeting, and with the help of some Haitian friends, I have had the blessing of visiting Shaylyn and Senson again and again, and build friendships with their family and a neighbouring family, both who lost their homes in hurricanes during the fall of 2008.  I've learned more about the way they have lived in their small makeshift tents since then, and their patient hope for better shelter.  I've fallen in love with their children and watched them grow.  I've prayed alongside them that the Lord would provide for their most immediate and long-term needs.

Sometimes when I've walked home from their dwelling places in the valley, I have more hope than when I came, but I still have to sift through the questions in my mind.  The most prominent ones remain long after: Would I have the same kind of peace and trust in the Lord as these dear friends?  What if I too had lost everything and had to live in a tent like theirs?  Why have I been given such abundant blessing in world of poverty?

Time progressed on, and with it came new ministries and programs at MOH, one of them being the 500 Homes Project.  This past fall, with a lot of generous support and prayers across the US and Canada, these families were added to the list of house recipients.

And this morning, together with the Louissaint and Ferdinand families and the many of friends who have been the hands and feet of this project gathered together under their new tin roof. We prayed, we sang, we cried and we rejoiced as the house keys were presented. There are no words to properly express the fullness of my heart.

Because what began as a vacant piece of land on a hillside has now become two wonderful dwelling places for years and years to come.  Strong brick walls keep the families warm and sheltered from gusty mountain winds.  Tin roofs to protect their belongings and keep them dry from heavy downpours as we embark on another rainy season.  Cement floors that can be swept and cleaned, and a beautiful hillside view of their new village and beyond to the Caribbean Sea.
Indeed, the Lord knew this outcome even back to that first night I met Shaylyn and Senson on the mission road.  He had this story of provision planned since the beginning, far before I ever heard of Mission of Hope.  But what reveres me the most is how He allowed me to join in the story, and how He has given me a front row seat in watching His loving arms gently put back the pieces. I am blessed to know these families, who continue to teach me what it means to be fully dependent and trusting of the Lord's provision, believing that He will never leave or forsake us.

I once heard it said that sometimes God has to take us to through the valley before we can stand on the mountain.
For the Louissaint and Ferdinand families, He has done just that.  Praise be to the Father of lights, who is the Giver of perfect gifts.

Fabric scraps.

I am so thankful for the chance to spend time at 3cords. With a class size of 2, my afternoons are usually freed up to walk down to the perfectly purple building full of beautiful friends. Denise, Natacha and Nadege are usually hovering over their sewing machines and filling the room with a steady hum. Rosenie and Gernise are at their usual spot in the sunlight, making make fabric flowers, or cutting patterns for clutches and purses. And Elphine, Walnise and Sounlove are weaving and braiding their fabric strips into cords. All the while, the ladies chatter along to their favourite background music of Celine Dion, Annie Parsons, or Shalom Radio.
Mary Maude meets me at the door to take my arm, and steers me into her office where she shows off the latest finished products, then lets me try on and gush all over them.

Today at closing time, while the ladies got washed up and primped by the mirror, I took the broom and began to sweep up all of the little scraps of fabric that had been used throughout the day. I smiled to myself as I travelled from workstation to workstation, picking up new colours and fabrics as I went. By the end, I had gathered a rainbow spectrum of bright pinks and oranges, deep blues, fluorescent greens and neutral earth tones, to name a few.
Looking at the heap of colour, it struck me that each different hue, added it's own flavour of brilliance to the mix. Even though some were more dull and others clashed, together they created a beautiful mosaic.

And so it is with each of us. We each have our own uniqueness. Our own perfections and flaws, triumphs and defeats, all ordained and bestowed upon us from the Lord. Together, just as these ladies come alongside one another each day to build up and to love, we too are called to complement each other. I feel so blessed to rub shoulders with these incredible ladies. Indeed, they form a rainbow of brilliance.

Up to something.

I love listening to the stories of those around me. Animated narratives from my boys before school starts, passerby prayers in the heat of the day, lively tales from Mobile Clinic journeys or Hope House kid antics amidst the crowds at dinner, heart-to-hearts in the glow of low light deep into the evening.

As I've listened to the stories of my friends and neighbours this week, a familiar thread has woven it's way back and forth and through. It's a phrase that ties all of the ups and downs, tears and triumphs into meaning.

God is up to something.

Well, of course He is. He always is. But it's not a truth I want to shrug my shoulders to. This week I've tried to pinpoint more specific ways I recognize Him for the stories He writes. In the different facets of our days, if we let Him take the pen, He unravels the mysteries of His grace, and gives us real-time glimpses into His love.

It's usually only in the answered prayers and triumphs that I turn around and recognize how intricately the Lord used both the struggles and satisfactions to bring me through. But what I am realizing through the daily lives of myself and my neighbours is that when all the the pieces fall apart, and far before our awareness takes hold, God is still up to something.

And so even in the evening tremor, even in the prison sentence, even in orphaned twins. He is up to something. May we have a faith like David to be strong, take heart, and wait for the Lord (Psalm 27:14).

We may never fathom the depth to which He is at work on this side of heaven, but someday I believe we will. Until then, it's my prayer that you too may be encouraged wherever you find yourself today. Know that amidst the highs and lows that the Author is at work, writing a story of beauty and redemption all the way to our Promised land.

Teagan's post.

Please take a minute to check out the blog of my dear friend, Teagan. Next week she'll be returning with her classmates (annnnd LIZ!) to the land she loves. So proud of this girl... It's worth the read!

http://vdmkids.blogspot.com/2012/03/wow.html#comment-form

Field Trip!

After visiting the mountain families at their current dwellings this afternoon, Robenson and I asked them if they'd like to join us on our extended trek to see the progress on their new houses. Both mommies and 5 of their kids came along for the journey, and it was AWESOME to visit the homes, for some of them, the first time. So thankful I brought my camera on this field trip!

The kids eagerly led the way, and I did my best to keep up...

Senson reaching the property...

Checking out the interior...

The Ferdinand family standing by their new home...

The Louissaint family with their home... To be painted pink and white by their request :)

Dida and Senson hanging out in their house...