Soldier

Incredibly rich, full of simplicity, wonder and beauty. This is how I would have described my life. On any given day mother cooks, sews and takes care of my younger siblings while pappa heads out to earn his living amongst the other fisherman. The smell of cassava meat and fried plantains follows me as I rise to look after my daily chores. My days begin before the dawn rises but even as I grumble at the early hour, I can’t help but stare in awe at the beauty of the sun beginning to rise over the plains. As I venture out to work in the fields planting crops and feeding the minimal livestock our family owns, the hot equatorial sun beats down on my skin, sweat pours down my face; I smile at the little children running around barefoot, playing in the streets. Completing my first set of chores, I move on to our daily supply of water. Three miles to the nearest water source gives ample time to day dream and bask in the beautiful surroundings of my mother land, Africa. One day, I want to return to school, maybe become a doctor; make a difference in my village. That day life seemed just as it should, but in the blink of an eye everything changed and it would never be the same again. I heard the music blaring from a distance, vehicles approaching rapidly, gunshots and screaming from every direction. One by one, bodies began to fall; I was frozen in terror until I realized I needed to run. I ran, but I didn’t run fast enough. I was captured. On that day my family was killed, villages were burned and I was forced into a life of evil beyond all human comprehension. In an instant, I went from being a child to being a soldier.
Survival. This is how we learned to live in the wake of that day. We were children forced in the name of revolution, to brutalize and pillage communities, along the way kidnapping other children to “enlist” them into the cause. In a fog of dazed reality, side-effects from the things we are forced to take but eventually became accustomed and quite addicted to in order to endure the endless days, we press on. We were numb. We forget what it is like to feel; feel love, feel hurt, feel pain. Those emotions are buried deep, in a place where we ourselves have no idea how to reach. Months and even years pass but the day comes; a miracle has happened and we are freed and the revolution is at a supposed cease-fire. Now we are without a home, without family, without identity. We don’t know where we belong or where we are going. There are camps for children of the war; there are people who care for us, who try and help us overcome what we have seen, what we have lived and what we have done. Is it safe to let them in? Can I trust them? Nightmares plague my sleepless nights. Silence becomes my only security. If I don’t speak then no one will know. No one will have to hear. I long to speak, I want to scream, I desire to cry. But if I do will they still look at me the same? I was a child soldier. I am an orphan. I am God’s child. Do you see me?

I will not leave you as orphans, I will come for you. John 14:18

Radical Living

Lately I’ve been called passionate and radical. I can’t even begin to explain how universally ironic it is to imagine that I am radical. Honestly, I almost want to weep at that thought. If I am radical, then this world is in serious trouble. It is. That’s not some overly dramatic response, its truth. To have a deep passion is one thing but to actually do something, to get up and move, is another. Taking a trip once a year to give a hand to those in need, if that is all that I have done, is not radical. It’s actually pathetic. When I look in the mirror, I don’t see a hero. I just see a girl, but she is a willing girl. A girl who has been, who has seen, and who can not ignore even when, confession here, she would often times like to.
I also see a redeemed girl. A girl so humbly aware of the pit she used to be in and what God has done in her life, she is driven to sharing it with others. And I do see a girl who by God, and God alone, has a passion to serve His people. Not just the people in her church where there is comfort and ease. Not just the people in and around her city, who by all worldly standards are in fact wealthy, but also the other half of the world. I say also here because we are called to serve in our local church and in our community. But in addition to serving in and around where you live, there’s an entire other half of human population we would like to pretend does not exist because we don’t have to see it; it’s not in our face convicting us on a daily basis. We pretend it does not exist because if we really opened our eyes to the desperation in the world then we would have to do something about it. We would have to step out of our comfort zone, lest we be so bold as to look God in the eye and say “that is not my calling.”
It’s not a special calling, it is a commandment. It’s not a gift that God chose only a select few to give. He wills us to look to the ends of the earth and see the plight of His children, realize how blessed we are, get up, and do something about it.
Why does it take a picture of a child with swarming flies in their eyes, swollen belly or a bone-thin skeleton to ignite in us a sense of duty. Should it be a duty to feed our brothers and sisters? We are Christians, before anyone else it is our job. It is the call of the church to serve those in need because it was the call of Christ. Jesus says: “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound..” Isaiah 61:1 Time and time again He stretched out His hand to the poor, the sick and the broken. If the Bible commands us to be like Him, and it does, then caring for His people is part of the package. None are exempt.
I am not proposing that we feel a sense of guilt about the gifts and blessings that God has bestowed upon us. Guilt is not a motivation for anything Godly. We can not help where we were born, what we have, or the blessings He has given us. Life is a gift that God intended for us to enjoy and fully. But we should remember that the cross comes with an extreme cost. And if we were really honest with ourselves, I included, we don’t want to be uncomfortable. So instead we blow it off; children starving, dying, desperate for someone to call mom and dad, desperate even for just a hug, children being sold into sex slavery, under the guise of “not being called.” We can not enjoy the things that we have been blessed with while turning a blind eye to the ones that Jesus called us to care for. Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our God and Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world. James 1:27
Maybe you truly do not feel particularly called to go to the nations and feed, clothe, love and preach the Word. But you can send someone; you can financially back those efforts. You can feed from a distance. There are a number of ways that you can join hands with others to make a difference. John Piper said there are three types of people, the goers, the senders and the disobedient. The question is which one are you?
I will not leave you as orphans; I will come for you. John 14:18

Why?

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. Proverbs 3:5
Do you trust God, not only when life seems to be going in your favor, but when it's not? Do you trust God when you just don't understand? Such an easy task when life appears to be going your way. You can preach to others about the glory of Heaven, the power of God's hands, the spectacular overflowing love He gives us all. You can counsel others in their time of need, have words of encouragement and laughter to lift spirits, but put self to the test and it's an entirely different story. Faith begins to fade, your spirit begins to diminish and your heart begins to ask why, why me?
We all face trials, tribulations and periods of just plain suffering. You can answer the why me question with a worldly viewpoint such as: we suffer so that there will be compassion, which is a by product of the impact of witnessing suffering or, you could answer it with God's viewpoint. In Romans Paul explains suffering in such that he reminds us of Gods plans.
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28

In other words: everything works together for His good. He has purpose in absolutely everything. Brokenness leads to blessing, death leads to life (John 12:24) and suffering leads to glory (Romans 8:17).. Without trials, you would remain the same and Gods purpose is to change you. His goal is to make you better, make you stronger, and most importantly to make you like His Son. He wants you to be whole and to be confident of your purpose in life. He doesn't want you to stay paralyzed in questioning; he wants you to already know the answer. Trust Me.
Ruth Bell Graham said "I lay my "whys?" before Your cross in worship kneeling, my mind beyond all hope, my heart beyond all feeling; and worshiping, realize that I in knowing You, don't need a "why?"

He is faithful. He is good. He is just. He is God.

The Blind Man

Approaching the red light, about to turn off my street, I saw him. As I sat in my car and awaited the signal to turn, I couldn't help but watch his graceful strides and effortless ease. He carried his grocery bags in one hand and his walking stick with the other. Headed to run simple errands, just the normal day to day things that I take for granted, I watched this man and felt deep compassion. I don't know his name, I don't know his story but for some reason on this day I was deeply drawn to him. I wondered what his life was like. I wanted to know his struggles, his pain, his joy and what it is that drives him to get out of bed each morning. I wanted to just walk with him and talk. As the light changed signaling it was time for me to go, I drove past him and looked in my rear view mirror as he crossed the street and I began to reflect on my own heart.
There is so much in this life that we take for granted, even the beautiful gift of visual sight. What a gift to see the sunrise over the ocean, the red sunset over the African plains, animals grazing at the foot of a river, a babies first smile, the look on a couples face on their wedding day, front row seats at your favorite sporting event, the joy in someone who has truly given their heart over to Christ. Then, I thought about what a gift it might be to not see some of the evil in this world, to not be tempted by things which can only be seen. Though evil transcends just vision, it was just something I pondered as I watched him walk away. I began to thank God for the little things, like vision, that we take for granted. I began to look around me as I drove and take in my surroundings, asking God to remind me to never miss the beauty of this world; of His creation. As I think back to that graceful man I saw that day, I thank him and God for reminding me of how blessed I am.

Patience With Others

We have this fleshly ingrained defensive mind set that we must be understood; a stubborn manner of believing that people need to get us, to understand us, and to agree with us. We will go to great lengths to argue our points and express our opinions in trying to make people understand. We are called to speak the Truth, share our faith, pray, and then leave it up to God.

Jesus never defended who He was. When people turned their backs on Him, it didn't anger Him. When Christ hung from the cross people snared, shouted insults and said if you are the King, prove it and come down off that cross. If you do, then we will believe. Did He get down? No. Why? Because it was His calling as the Son of God, God’s will, and He because He lovingly accepted the punishment due to us. He also knew that even if He had granted such requests for proof, they still would not have believed. When they threw insults, objects and punches He didn't become enraged, He became sad. Imagine that immense kind of love.

We love to argue and we despise being misunderstood. Hearts have become calloused instead of softened. Instead of swallowing our pride, regardless of whom is to blame in a situation, we choose to ignore. We would rather wait, forever perhaps, until people come to us in resolution. Christ did not turn from the Cross saying "it's not my fault." He accepted it. He embraced it. He did it for you, and for me. Are you capable of that same kind of love? People may not hear, but continue to speak. They may not understand, but continue to be patient. They may get angry, but continue to show them love. That same love was given to you on the cross.

"You will be ever hearing but never understanding; you will be ever seeing but never perceiving. For this people's heart has become calloused; they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts and turn, and I would heal them." Matthew 13:13-15

Do you see me?

The day before Christmas Eve. The air has turned cold and the wind whips about me as if tiny razors attack my flesh. Traffic races past and piles up, stacked car upon car, as shoppers bustle about in a hurry to frantically get those last minute gifts for the cherished of their life. It is loud as cars honk angrily at each other, frustrated that there's a limited amount of time to get everything done before they have to rush home to greet out of town guests and friends and ensure dinner is on the table. The sound of the bell from the Salvation Army volunteer rings in my ears as people ignore, pretending they are on their cellphone or distracted by children, so they don't feel any guilt of not searching around for even a few pieces of spare change. The smell of fresh baked bread pours out from an open door of a nearby restaurant as happy patrons exit. Water begins to beat down from the sky and crash upon my face. I would reach for an umbrella but I don't even own a coat. I reach down to remove my shoe, so that I can massage the nubs where my legs once were; they are sore from standing. I hold out my hand, swallowing any ounce of pride I had left, but people just look away. They judge me. They assume I am an addict, an invalid, a man who gave up on life and therefore unworthy of compassion. They don't know my story, they don't even ask. I begin to dance; to put on a show. Society has taught me that it's not enough to just be in need, but if I can entertain them, make them laugh, maybe then they'll search their wallets, passing up the tens and fives for the crumpled up old ones. It matters not to me as I would graciously take anything. It is so cold out and I haven't eaten in days. Am I hideous? Am I that unlovable? Don't they see me? Does anybody see me?

I am homeless. I am a veteran. I am hungry, cold, handicapped and in need. Most importantly, I am God's child. Do you see me?

'For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me. "Then the righteous will answer Him, 'Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You something to drink? 'And when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?' "The King will answer and say to them, 'Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me." Matthew 25:35-40

Bowed Down

The Lord raises up those who are bowed down. Psalm 146:8

When you are kneeled before the Father, you are in a position of honor and more importantly humility. There is something incredibly significant about the position of being bowed before God. It is an act of love and an admission of need. You silently lower yourself to a position in order to say "God I need you" and to praise and thank Him. When you are at your lowest point, He then is at His highest. When you are kneeled down, face to the ground, there is nowhere to go but up. Being bowed mirrors a similar significance of baptism, being buried with Christ and rising. The significance is in the rising. Jesus was buried, and then he arose. God never places us in a position where we cannot rise above. When we kneel we eventually stand and it is there we can rise to walk in newness of life.