Solitude

Solitude is the furnace of transformation rather than an escape from busyness. Times of solitude develop sensitivity to God and allow us to savour intimate moments, to let them fill us and satisfy us.
-Lorie Martin, Author of Invited

is it time?

As I typed out the last paragraphs of the grant application, a flood of emotions came over me. Not one emotion. Not even two. To be honest, I don't even know what to think.

Fiji is not just some place on a map. It's not just a bunch of islands, and some people. Along time ago, I began asking the Lord what He wanted from me. What should I do for Him? What can I give Him?

Night after night I'd ask, and night after night I'd get the same answer. "I just want your heart"

I was confused. I thought I had done that. I thought we we're squared up- yet the same response again and again caused me to question, "What does He mean?" When we went to Fiji the first time, I had asked, no, even told God: "Give me your heart for these people. Don't send me if you can't give me your heart." As I sat one day, in a few moments of stolen solitude, overlooking the south pacific ocean from a bamboo bench, I felt something. I think in that moment God put missions in my heart. Before then, I didn't like missions much. I was convinced that I was not called to missions. But there, on that trip, something changed. I fell in love with fiji. The people, the culture, the land. God put it in my heart, because it's in His- and now, more than two years later from that afternoon on the bench, my heart still yearns to be with the people of Fiji.

It's been hard. This thing thats so in my heart, I feel I've had to die to time and time again. It's not time, it's not time, it's not time. I wish some times that I could just go. I wish I could leave this. All this stress. All this technology. All this administrative stuff. All this waste. Something in me wants to run away to the simpler pace of life that is Fiji. But it's not time. I remember the feeling I had when it was time to leave after my one and a half month trip, about this time last year. I felt sick to my stomach entering the airport. So .... big. So commercial. I had just come from the village. I wanted to stay. The contrast was too much.

I didn't know what I was going back to. Life took a slow time getting started once I came home. Eventually I found my footing, just in time to enter in to a dark season of the soul. God was doing some inner purging. Meanwhile on the top, youth continued at full speed and in the new year, became a source of actual (part time) income. I fell in love again with youth ministry. Which took time, because often I think of Fiji. Often I wish it were time. Often I dream. Often.

So now this grant comes up. A second time. The first time got my hopes up and dashed them. So this time, I walk on eggshells. I love what I do. Youth. Soon to be Mexico and Chapel. I love it all. I love ministry. I love the people here,.. but what about... what about there? is there something there for me? am i done there? Is it a not now? or a not never? What if this grant goes through? what about youth? what about solo? what about maca? what about? The reality of what this grant going through to me, is so much bigger than steve or those guys think. to me, this is life. Something like this grant could be the start of what I think I was made for. But all I need to know.. .is... is it time?

clean

I think i've tries tried to read through the Bible probably a dozen or so times before. I think I've probably stopped once i got to Leviticus. this time I'm determined to make it through. it all seems so meaningless... or is it?

There was such care and strategy placed on the Presence of God. Such holy reverence. A true and serious respect. Step by step, everything.. EVERYTHING was done right. Done exactly as the Lord asked. Done exactly how He wanted it.

Everything and everyone was so clean, so pure and so serious about the altar and the holy of holies. According to Jewish tradition, the priest had bells on the bottom of His robe, and a rope around his ankle. If the bells stopped ringing, it was assumed he had died in the presence of a most holy God, and the would pull him out by the rope.

Though I am eternally grateful that Jesus was the final sin offering, and that I can come boldly to the throne, sure of His glad welcome, I regret the way Christ followers today have forsaken the reverence and awe that Holy One of Israel demands.

I'm surprised at His mercy and patience with us. Time and time again, we defile His presence. We have forgotten the gravity of entering in. Grace says "Come in, the curtain was torn!" and I agree full heartedly. Yet, are we not to revere the Lord? Fear Him for He is holy? Consecrate ourselves that He may come? Jesus came not to abolish the law, but to fulfill it. Yet in the name of "grace" have we not disregarded the all that He wrote in the earlier parts of His Holy Book?

If we are to see the fullness's of His presence, if we are to receive all the He has for us, if we are to truly enter into the fullness of His grace, can I convey from my heart my deepest desire? Lord, would we not grieve Your Holy Spirit. Would we revere Your presence. There is more of You that we have not seen. I'm looking forward to the day when we cannot stand in the chapel, for our knees fall weak before You. I'm looking forward to the day when you come in power and overtake our services, our meetings, our worship times. Not only at church, please Lord. Please- overtake our homes, our families, our jobs. Our day to day. Holy spirit, forgive us. Forgive us. Forgive us.

"Who may ascend the hill of the Lord? Who may stand in His holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart. Who has not lifted us his soul to an idol, nor sworn deceitfully... such is the generation of those who seek You, who seek your face, O God of Jacob...." Psalm 24:3,4,6

dancing in the fields.

There is this something inside of me that wants to have all my ducks in a row. I want to have everything under control. I want to know what we are doing, where we are going, and what I need to do to get us there. That is the role of an administrative type person.

But I've been thinking. I think God likes wildflowers.

Untamed, natural beauty. Grown not because it was in a green house, or in precise little rows. These small colorful beauties grow just because He wants them too. They grow where He wants them to, and how He wants them to.

I want to live a lot less like petunias and a lot more like fireweed. I want ministry too look a lot more like a lush meadow with tall grass painted with flowers of purple and white, and a lot less like an institution.

Maybe I don't need to have all my ducks in a row to find success in what He's doing. Maybe all I need to do is continue to water the things that He's already planted. Maybe then I'd spend a lot less time worrying and a lot more time dancing in the fields with the One who made the fields...

my altar

So I'm reading through the Bible in 90 days. Or at least trying to. It's not going so well yet, but it IS going, so... I'll stick with that. I'm hoping to catch up on my 20 hr ride to nowhere tomorrow. Don't know if I actually will, but it's a nice thought.

Pushing through Genesis caused me to see something. Altars.

It was so common for people to build an altar to remember the good God had done. We live in a fast paced society. We are a fast paced people. We rarely stop to breath, let alone remember. Even in our spiritual lives we run from one thing to the next. Always on the go, always heading forward- and fast. Never looking back.

I like the past. I like the things I've seen God do. I look back and say, "look at the pit from which I was hewn!" Look at where I was heading. Look at how good He has been to me! Look at that He's done! I kept reading, about the people and their altars, and how they'd remember and thankfulness rose up inside of me.

I'm so thankful for where he has taken me. I'm so thankful for all He has done with the youth, and at classic. I'm so thankful that He opens door for me, like Mexico. I'm so thankful that I was born here, that I have the parents I do, and the family and church family that I do. I'm so thankful that I'm supported and loved. I'm so thankful for the opportunities He's given me and the life I get to live. What a privilege. THank you Lord!

In running to "the next thing" and the "fresh revelation" and all those good things, may I never stop giving thanks, and may I always remember all that you have done. You are so faithful. Thank you.

CLASSIC 2010 "note"

.....What's that? ....its quiet.

I havn't heard much quiet these past few days....

I... I seem to be lost for words. another rarity.

Classic is over. Four days with 27 junior highers in the bush is done. It was, by far, the best classic yet. God is so faithful. Leading up to classic (or any big event really) I come under a lot of attack. A lot. Tons of doubt floods my mind and I consider throwing in the towel. time & time again. I know the truth that the greater the attack, the greater the breakthrough, but sometimes i wish it could be easier.

I saw kids hear Gods voice for the first time. I saw others get reunited with a heavenly Father who has been waiting to talk to them. I saw kids prophecy over each other. I saw kids encounter the undeniable presence of God for the first time. Get filled with the holy spirit for the first time, speak in tongues for the first time. With tears streaming down many faces, I saw kids get reignited and refilled. Stirred with fresh passion.

I saw the faithfulness of God to bring about the things that you've yearned for. Long for. Prayed for. Cried over and ached for. I saw Him come through.

I saw my heart reconnect with a place and a people that I have, at times despised. I long for distant shores, and it's hard to stay home. It's hard to keep plowing and planting when the soil is so hard here. It's hard ground, and there is often little fruit.

I saw good fruit this week. I'm so pleased. I got home and lay on my bed for moment with this joy in my heart as a Voice in my spirit spoke so clearly : "You conquered! you conquered!" I feel like God is smiling on me. I feel Him say "Well done, good and faithful servant" I think I needed to conquer, to override some feelings of defeat.

I saw Him changing me. I feel different now. I can't put my finger on it, but it's something. Something good.

I want to say that Classic is over, but .... I have a feeling that it's really only just begun.

( i guess i found my words... ) :0 Until next time

Jen

...

it's funny how a few words can bring you back to memories you tired to forget. It's funny how a picture can bring back emotions you thought you left behind. I still have a soft heart toward you. it's funny, another word for alone is...well...you know the rest.

I HAVE A GOAL

I have a goal to be the most organized for this classic than I have EVER been before. I have a goal to surprise myself and get'er done way before , so that ... the week of and the days of i am not stressed. that is my goal. a stress free classic. i dont know if thats even possible... but.... here's hoping.

i've got good family

i've got good family. good good family. im not so much talking about my blood related family, though they're good too. im talking about the 30 minute calls from grandma ruth, and the random coffees with kate because she was thinking and praying about me. im talking about the kind words in the office when i needed a little encouragement but didn't have the courage to ask. im talking about my family. the people who seemed to be able to read what im not saying, and communicate what i need but fail to request. sometimes i don't like how we do things here. but i do like who we do them with. i've got good family.

somewhere over the rainbow

sometimes i think about the fact that you are somewhere, doing something, and i dont even know it. you have some job i dont know about, and drive some car that i've never seen. maybe you go to some church that i've never been to and have some friends that i've never met and laugh at some jokes i've never heard. all i do know is that you are. somewhere, you are. and every day of not knowing brings me one day closer to knowing. and thats what gets me by. that one day you'll be at some job that i know about, and have friends that im friends with and laugh at things that i get. but probably we'll still drive my car. im just saying....

im in quarantine

I'm 22. I've lived in this house all my life. about 3 years ago we got new neighbors. It took them 2 years to realize that I lived in this house too. I "live" here, but really, what that means is that my stuff is here and I sleep here. Sometimes, if im lucky. I eat here. I try to anyways, cause it's cheeper that way. I'm not really at home that often. but>> For the next week, I will be at home. I will not go out. I will not see ppl. I will be here. In my house. Here's why.

I think im in love....

Just me and you and the open road.

here's hoping....

Probably that one.

COMPENSATION

in other news.... because of the previously stated "release" on my finances.... I think I shall buy myself a car. Yes, yes I shall. That makes me feel better already :P

tomorrow is a new day...

What's next? The closing of the door means the opening of a new one. When I was younger, I remember saying to myself that my greatest fear would be waking up every day doing something that was not in the will of God. Next is whatever is in your will.

Is is done? Nope. I don't think so. My hopes got a little crushed. I cried a few tears, but I'm ok. I have a lot of questions. Ones that, in due time, I think He will answer.

I love Fiji. I can't get it out of my heart. God put it there. We will meet again. My face will feel your sun, and my feet will walk your shores. I will love your people, eat your food and speak your language. You are so precious to me. The memories I have of you are so fond, and I cherish them. They play over in my mind, sort of like an old film at a family get together, where we laugh again at the things that made us laugh once, cry again with the things that broke our hearts once, and rejoice again with the things that made us rejoice once. I rejoice over you, Fiji.

Thank You for tomorrow. And thank You for when the time will come. I don't understand the delay, but I will trust in You.

"Just shut up, will you?"

I find it so easy to get wrapped up in "what I do" It's so easy to let JH become my life. Become who I am. Become my identity. Ministry should never be the essence of who we are, only a reflection of who we are. You'll tell it by the fruit. I think I'm on a journey of sorts. Rediscovering who I am in Christ, once all the facade of ministry is gone. Even worship is easy to hide behind when you don't want to deal with what's really going on inside. How many times have I missed it? How many times have I sang just loud enough to drown out my own thoughts, and any possibility of hearing His voice. "Shhhhh" is what I hear the Father saying. Or perhaps in a less correct sort of way... "Just shut up, will you?"

and so I think I enter... the quiet season. A season of redefining identify. A season of new revelation. Fresh bread and new wine. A still season, without much stirring. I'm not sure as I know what all that means, but I have a feeling I'm about to find out.

nigahiga on youtube...

i can't figure out what is worse. people who vlog or people who follow people who vlog..... who is the bigger waster of time.... ??

about a boy

Some words I was reminded of this morning...

"I don't wanna miss out on the promises of God because I was impatient. I believe in the process of God. I have to. Cause somedays, I get lonely and I wish that he, whoever he is- was here. But I am believing for great things from my Father, who has bigger things than I can even imagine... I'm excited about the process."
-TFS Girls Workshop 2009

This is me, being honest.

You know, sometimes I wanna quit. ok, more than sometimes. Often. Often I want to quit. Often I want to throw in the towel, call it a day and go home. Often I want to give up. More than often. Almost daily.

Every week goes the same. The days coming up to wednesday consist of me wondering what in the world I should do. Almost frantically, I prepare what little I feel I know, and then wednesday comes. I wake up. I stay in bed a little longer than I should, wondering if I didn't get out, would any notice? of course they would, and I'd be in trouble for it. i don't really have an option.

So I get up. Again. And like every week before that, I wonder why I do this? Why I put myself through it all. Why. Why. Why shouldn't I leave? It's this all worth it? No one ever said that carrying vision would be easy. I've never been promised that. I know what He's called me to do, but what was once conviction is taking some convincing.

Then I put my plan into action, the one I made up frantically in the past few days, and hours leading up to this. The kids come in. It's go time. Not performace time, but pour out time. Time to give it all we got, even though sometimes I don't feel like I got all that much to give, and thats when it happens. A kid tells me something important.They let go and raise their hands when they sing. Holy Spirit whispers a word to give to one of them in worship. I see them understanding the Word more. I hold a broken kid as they cry. They come up to me after and ask me to pray for them for something. Whatever it is, I get lost in it and somewhere inbetween the caos of it all I forget. I forget that only hours before I contemplated walking out. Giving up. Finding a "real job". I forget and my heart turns soft and I love what I do. Every week, on wednesdays about 9:00, I smile. I think, "I am where I am supposed to be. This, for now, is right."

Then I go home to sleep. I sleep well those nights. Rested and satisfied. But then I wake up and it's thursday-and already I think - "shoot... it's almost Wednesday!" and we start all over again.

Byran

When he talked, his eyes smiled. He was nothing that I thought he'd be. I thought he would be socially awkward because he'd been living in the mountain bush for more than 15 years. I thought at least he would have had poor conversational skills. He looked young, and spoke like he knew allot. He did know allot. He told us of his guinea pigs they are raising in the house they built, and about the rabbit they rescued from life sentence in a demeaningly small cage. Once, about a year ago, september he encountered a cougar. He said that because he had seen the cougar before the cougar had seen him, that he had the upper hand. I thought that sounded heroic, to have the upper hand on a cougar. Byran taught me that with a cat, it's all about the stare down. If you look away first, it either means that you are submitting or that you are weak. Byran told me that he won the stare down, which made him seem heroic. After that I wasn't sure if I should look him in the eye when he talked to me, or not.