she came in, quiet without words.

She pushed my hand away twice before I felt it tugging on my sleeve.
She wrapped my arm around herself then.

She crumpled the song sheet, brows furrowed and hand clenched in concentration.
She whispered not long after, asking more than once to take the bulletin home.

She came in, quiet without words.
She lifted her hands in the Doxology.

She squirmed in the seat, feet all over the chairs and floor and in the air.
And then she stopped squirming, and she looked up at me as we sang:

Your plans are still to prosper, You have not forgotten us.
You're faithful forever, perfect in love; You are sovereign over us.

Six Little Girls and My One Heart

The stars shine down in the black blue sky tonight, whispering reminders of my Father whose presence is faithful and with us even in the valley, even in the darkness. I never knew that in a single day one's heart could be filled, broken, overflowed again and blessed so freely before it begins to sting with heartache and burst with laughter and rest at the end of the day knowing that it has learned and been taught by His mighty hand on the six small girls we had in preschool church today. A paragraph for each so you can get a taste of the blessing too.

The youngest of the bunch is new to all of us and known to some as the little chipmunk that waddles into church, sleepy eyed and smiling, ready to give hugs and secretly knowing that after church we will play. She doesn't know which color crayon connects to her name. The girl smiles as she calls her brother by his traditional name, seeking him out in the crowd, unaware that the language of her people is slipping away quickly and that she's one of just a handful of children I know who uses that Sahaptin word for brother. Love flows out of this little one, and He, out of His perfect love, is showing it to me from the color queen one Sunday at a time.

Her cheeks scrunch up when she smiles and make her eyes tiny, and her voice is much softer than that of the other girls. She comes with her hair done and is eager to help pass out snacks. Her love for those around her feels unconditional when we're in that preschool classroom, and I can't help but wonder where all of us will be in ten years; she'll be thirteen, I'll be twenty-seven. Watching her love others gives me hope: hope for her generation, and hope for the Lord to work miracles in His earth.

"Now you're an Indian! I'm an Indian too, but I don't always wear feathers," is what I heard as a five-year-old stuck a peacock feather in my hair tonight while we watched four baby peacocks follow their mama across the yard. After the feather was in place, she grabbed her cousin's hand and pulled her close, their hands held, to watch the babies and mama duck under the fence and out of sight. They turned back to face me, giggling, squinty eyed as the sun set. My heart couldn't help but swell and ache all at once.

I've written about the girl whose name is music before, and I've written about the Lord's plan and purpose that is so far beyond my own, a concept my heart battles daily, moment by moment, when it comes to resting in it. He is still teaching me through the music girl. Today the lesson was one of praying for hope and joy in the life of this dear one, as well as for the thoughts of my own heart to be ones of contentment and peace in His will. In Suffering and the Sovereignty of God, John Piper writes in regard to our human questionings of God's will: "Moreover, we will not always, right now, have these answers for ourselves. But in glory the answers will be clear, when we will see Jesus face to face. Then we will see that God has indeed done all that He pleased and has done it perfectly, both for His glory and our good." Be still, my heart.

Hope and a future stick out in my
mind from Jeremiah when I think of the sand box princess. Each night this week she's asked to play in the sand. After we run fast to reach the edge of the grass, our sandals come off and we jump into the dusty ground that is warm in between our toes. She offers to build me something, all the while eager to share the buckets and shovels with me, because "Sharing is nice," as she tells me herself. Her mind is wild with imaginings and as her Elsa braids blow in the wind, I'm reminded of His miraculous grace. Lord is using her in my life to teach me even more about the ever-present balance between brokenness and beauty.

She comes, hair crazy in a mad pigtail attempt but too short to fit into the ponytails, ready to sit in a lap and be loved. She talks more now than I've ever known her to before, and her words hold a lovely trio of care, laughter, and sass. Her face is lit up in every single picture I've seen of her, and she's who I picture when I hear the truth that joy comes in the morning.

I can't think back far enough to when I didn't know these six girls and more like them. There are at least fifteen names on our role sheet, and we get to taste His love in a new way each Sunday with a different handful of them there with us. I am truly prone to wander, but He has taken my heart and sealed it, and it's so full of preschool love.

He is Sovereign.

My heart has felt heavy this past week: overwhelmed, weighed down by the brokenness of this earth. I've journaled daily and finished each page disappointed at my own ability to put my thoughts into words. It seemed that each day this past week the Enemy worked hard to bring me down, to put lies into my head and bring me to doubt God's goodness and His will. I'm learning that like most things out here, you can't be prepared for what you'll encounter, no matter how hard you or others try. It's not a matter of anyone not doing a good enough job; it's a matter of God working in our lives.

I watched a little one distance herself from me at church over the past couple of Sundays: no longer does she want to sit with me or listen to me. This week alone I watched her detach herself from me almost completely and reattach herself to someone else in the span of five days. No longer did she seek me out or smile at me when I called her name. It felt like she left me in the dust without looking back.

The fact that I know this kind of behavior is common doesn't change the fact that it hurts. It hurts badly. I found myself in tears Thursday evening, asking myself questions. Why did she attach to someone else? What did I do wrong? What did she want from someone else that I couldn't give her? Why wasn't I enough?

But as I continued to journal and read and process and talk with other members of our summer staff, I realized that I was asking the wrong questions, that it's not about me being enough. It's not about me doing anything. It hurts, and it's not about me.

It's about the Lord working in the lives of all of us.

He is still teaching me to look to Him and to give Him the praise for these relationships and blessings, to rely on Him. He is still showing me that I am not the one doing anything, but that He is the One working all things for His glory.

He is teaching the girl whose name is music about His love for her that never fails and never changes. He is showing her that He is good no matter what.

He is teaching all of us that He ordains everything according to His will. He is teaching all of us that He is sovereign.

Thanks be to God that He is all I have
And if I have Him not, I have nothing at all
Nothing at all.
     Dom Julian of St. Benet's Hall

Is it Sunday yet?

As of yesterday, March 8th, we have been on the Rez for two months, and now that we are here, I feel like I have a constant mental countdown until Sunday. Every day that passes signifies one less day until I am able to worship with little people surrounding me, praising Our Father for His goodness. As I had hoped and prayed, I do get to help with the preschoolers on Sunday morning, and last Sunday we had eleven little people sitting in our row during church! I love all of the kids, but the preschoolers have a special place in my heart. My heart is full to hear them, the littlest ones, singing praises to Our Father. One little girl in particular leans her head really close to mine and listens to hear which words I'm singing, and then she sings them aloud when she has them memorized. I wish you all could hear her tiny voice too; it is a continual reminder that God's eye is on the sparrow so how much more does He care for each one of us?

Another little girl who is often found sitting next to me during church doesn't sing. She rarely speaks. She's had a green runny nose for the past month and it was at least a couple of days of springtime Kids Club before I saw her smiling. She has been coming to church regularly since I've been here, and each Sunday I get tiny, tiny glimpses of a tiny friendship between us. The past two Sundays we have spent considerable amounts of time on the monkey bars after church. She can't do them all by herself, but with my help she can pull herself across. The moments we spend together on the monkey bars bring my heart so much joy - she smiles, even laughs some, her little tongue sticking out in determination where two front teeth used to be. Just last Sunday, she was telling me when she wanted me to let her dangle from the bars and when she needed help, a huge change from just two months ago when she wouldn't even tell me her name. The Lord heals brokenness, and that's what's happening, little by little, on those monkey bars.

a full heart

My heart is full. At the end of week three, I am overwhelmed by the glimpses of true hope and the love of God the Father that I see descending on the Yakama Reservation in these clear times of beauty and of brokenness. These three weeks have come with their joys and their sorrows, but His grace will never cease to be sufficient.

 

Kids Club this past week broke my heart and refilled and overflowed the cracks of leaving home behind for a new home more times than I can count. I'm making new tiny native friends and laughing as if no time has passed with native friends from the past. As I watched the team members this past week, many of whom came out here for the first time and had no idea what they were getting themselves into, I was reminded of my first trip out to the Rez in 2013. The constant reminders each afternoon of the Lord's everlasting, abundant faithfulness to His beloved children blessed my soul again and again: the kids I interacted with who didn't speak or smile or laugh two summers ago are the ones jumping up to reach my shoulders and give me hugs. They're the ones giggling hysterically and giving high-fives, the little the ones getting a running/jump-start to a piggy back ride and "claiming" their spot in my lap for story time. Such a significant, obvious change has taken place here, and I know I'm not alone in saying that I feel so blessed and privileged to see it as a "local." The Lord has been and will continue to be a solid foundation of sufficient grace and mercy for His people. My heart is overflowing with the knowledge of the unconditional love and forever promises that God has made to all of us, His children; thank you for your prayers for this community. God is faithful, and He is answering the prayers and cries of His people.

The Lord is blessing the people of White Swan with a knowledge of Himself and His unchanging nature, and He is working through and in and among His people from all over the world. He who called you is faithful, and He will do surely it. What a joy it was to be able to say see-you-laters on Friday afternoon with the knowledge of the fact that we finally live here, that these relationships will grow in the hope of the Lord.

 

 

*head into hands*

Considering that I have several finals this week, blogging tonight might not be the smartest decision, but hopefully it captures my "both feet in both worlds" heart right about now. I've been sitting here for well over an hour, writing and deleting more words whenever my hands aren't holding up my heavy mind.

I feel like I sit with my head in my hands a lot, sometimes as a result of frustration (which is usually very closely related to math or science), but most of the time just because I'm thinking and processing. It's hard to think about everything. It's hard to justify everything. It's hard to explain everything. It's risky to think and to justify and to explain, and sometimes I hold my breath a little, because I have absolutely no idea what kind of a reaction I'll get, from myself or from other people. 

I don't even know where to begin most of the time. The stories and memories break my heart, and I want it to break the hearts of others as well. I want it to resonate with people that the little boy cries all the time because he doesn't sleep at night, that the park is swept over with "pokeys" and I don't know if the little sisters live there anymore because the windows are covered in boards.

I want people to know that the happiness seems to be endless on the swings; I want people to know that there is no sweeter sound than hearing little girls sing during church and no brighter sight than seeing the huckleberry eyes dance in harmony with the ocean eyes. There are so many smiles and laughs that I can't possibly count them all: I want other people to see the beauty more than they see the broken, but I never feel like I've made the beauty outweigh the broken when I've finished explaining.

I think about my tiny four-year-old friends on the Rez during English, and I think about the Chemistry final when I'm journaling about the same four-year-old friends. It's crazy. I felt like crumbling this morning when I heard someone say that there are only 8 more days until the end of the semester; I feel the same way thinking about the fact that I won't make it to the Rez on Sunday.

Then I have to remind myself that no one said anything about it being easy. The Narnian Beavers in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe taught us that. "Course He isn't safe. But He's good."

Remember this, had any other condition been better for you than the one in which you are, divine love would have put you there. ~ C.H. Spurgeon  

Christmas 2014

Throughout this past week, I told the Lord that it would really make my Christmas if Rida and Azie showed up at church. But "Thy will be done," so I also told Him that I wouldn't be disappointed if they didn't come.

Fast-forward a few days, and there I was on Sunday morning at 10:30, dressing up three awesome Wise Men in some pretty cool make-shift capes and putting oversized foam crowns covered with shiny glued-on jewels on their heads. It was so priceless, especially when you tell them to follow the bright, stolid little Star, as featured below.














         I hadn't seen the girls, and I didn't really have any chance to be disappointed: the Wise Men kept me on my toes. It was 10:40 when I looked out the window. And who did I see walking from their car and into the church building? None but little Rida and Azie and their family! The girls looked like little beautiful, glittering snowballs, arriving in their white puffy dresses with white sweaters, creamy tights, and black mary-jane shoes. I don't ever want to forget the thought of seeing them in those little snowball dresses.
__________________________________________________________________________________

"Harmony," I whisper. 
The little girl's eyes light up and she gets a running start, her arms stretched out and ready to envelop that girl who comes to help in the preschool room sometimes. She hugs me and I'm not prepared for but very thrilled with the jump that lands her in my lap. Her huckleberry eyes focus on the picture she makes as she sits in her own little silence amidst the noise of at least a hundred kids. She colors, and I stroke her black hair that is half-braided and half undone, whispering one more time that I'm so happy she got on that red bus.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Her voice is four times higher than the average person's and she's at least four times smaller than the average person. Her bangs are uneven and she pointed to the words of Christmas carols, singing loudly the choruses that she knew. Her laugh is one of my favorite sounds in the world.

Little Reminders

As we’ve just come home from Hope Fellowship’s Christmas service and feast, evident reminders of God’s calling continue to encourage me. Little giggles and hands gripping my fingers make me stop and give thanks for this opportunity. God answering my prayers and bringing kids to church that I haven’t seen since the summer. The living nativity skit during church bringing smiles and laughter. Kids stuffing their faces with potatoes and cookies. Little voices singing songs about the birth of our Savior. Laughing my head off with fifth graders. Candy canes and beads flying everywhere. You can’t love too much or be too loved on with these kids. I can’t express how grateful I am to love on these kids and spend the next part of my life on the Yakama Rez.

Here’s a glimpse of Christmas at Sacred Road.

Me and Jill

Craft time

Alma and Tatiana

Skye

Me and Daylene

Emily and Alma

A Day on the Rez

We made another trip over to the Rez today.  Even though it makes for a long day -- get up early, drive over, go to church, stay for lunch and play with the kids, look at a couple of houses, then drive back -- we always love the trip.  Seeing the staff, catching up a bit and then spending some with the kids helps to reconfirm why we are doing this.

Two highlights of the day.

The first was seeing Octavia (named changed of this precious little girl).  I often refer to Octavia as appearing shell shocked.  Whether she has fetal alcohol syndrome (FAS), is a crack baby, has other mental and emotional issues, or has any combination of those is not really in doubt. She is a handful to say the least. In the past, it has taken one person specifically assigned to Octavia to keep her focused and without creating chaos around her.

But as the kids were lining up to go into church this morning, I look over and all by herself Octavia is picking up pens and crayons and putting them in their containers. Then she was stacking up the containers to get things organized. I was amazed. In the last few months she has started to settle down, learn to control herself and is now even making a positive contribution. She's able to sit through church too and seems to be able to listen to the service and participate. Very cool to see how the time spent with her is having an impact on her life.

Me and Daylene on the teeter-totter

The other highlight was the little cutie, Daylene. I was able to spend some time with her a few weeks ago -- putting together a puzzle and then pushing her on the swing for what seemed like 30 minutes. Today she came in and sat down by me. I didn't recognize her until later, but when she first sat down she was her normal, quiet, shy self. She wouldn't talk to me until I commented about her temporary tattoos on her arms and then she wanted to show them to me. After church it was a bit of a struggle to get her to eat lunch; she really wanted to go play on the playground.

Once we got on the playground she wanted to swing on the tire swing, super fast, in her words. She wanted to slide down the slide, play on the teeter totter (see the picture), and pet the dog (Cooper). She asked me if I knew her brother and talked about what a nice dog Cooper was and told me about her dog. I found out later that she is known for not talking to anyone. Even her older sister talks about her not talking to people.

These kids struggle.  Their home life is a mess. It shows itself in many ways.  Like Octavia, they might be out of control, unable to focus and acting out.  Or they may be like Daylene, who doesn't talk to anyone and is a bit difficult to manage.

To be able to spend time with them, give them fun experiences where they can get away from the issues in their life and be around people that love and care for them is very special.  It can be easy to focus on that and say, "Look at all the good we are doing!"  There is good being done and the love of Christ is being extended to "the least of these."

But it can't stop there. Showing mercy without sharing the Good News of the resurrection of Christ does nothing eternally. It's like giving a band-aid to someone with cancer. Those of us in Christ are called to help alleviate suffering in this world.

"Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke?  Is it not to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?" Isaiah 58:6, 7

Christ is the way, the truth, and the life. True suffering, suffering beyond just physical, mental and emotional suffering, can only be alleviated in Christ.  Suffering of the soul is alleviated by the true Shepherd.

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You set a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever."  Psalm 23

change in the little ones

That little one that used to walk around with a tear stained face and messed hair - it can't be the same girl! The one who could only be comforted by one person - can it be that she is really laughing? The Lord has His hand on her! Now she runs to the playground, she holds the words to the songs in her hands, she sits calmly! She responds eagerly to conversation. She hugs the members littler than herself. She responds to love and she loves.

He used to sit quietly, shyly looking at everything from his spot on the car mat. He grew cold in the winter months and wouldn't tell a soul, his little self nearly numb to the icy shivers. Now he laughs and laughs, trying to speak words and laugh at the same time! He laughs, watching his younger brother throw the basketball as hard as his tiny arms will let him. He laughs, stuffing blue cotton candy into his mouth, smearing his Cheeto covered hands on my face and getting the most precious kick out of himself. He grows in the light and hope of the Lord.

We never thought she'd run, we never expected her to laugh. She fought, tensed in anger, refusing to engage. That was the little two-year-old I knew: the one that toppled over and turned down attention from those she didn't know. Now, just a year later, the same little girl runs, so fast that I think she will land on the ground! She laughs, running to the see-saws and swings. She knows of Jesus.

Change is taking place in even the littlest ones, and what a beautiful blessing it is to see.

 

Why We Are Joining Sacred Road Ministries

I spent some time with a little boy recently.  One of the same children that I spent time with last summer on our mission trip to White Swan.

Last summer he was a quiet little boy that didn't talk and hardly interacted.  He had sores on his arms and legs from an infection that was going around at the time.  He wasn't eating very much.  He spent a fair amount of time just sitting on my lap.

Last Thursday night there was an Open House for the community to get a chance to see the new church building for Hope Fellowship. I was able to spend some more time with him.

This little boy didn't look much taller than last summer.  A sure sign that he still isn't eating much.  It took him awhile but he started to open up as we played on the new play equipment. Laughing a bit and having fun climbing around on the new play toys.

After a bit, I was finally able to talk him into getting some dinner.  Sacred Road provided free hot dogs, chips, watermelon and drinks for everyone that came.  He said he didn't want a hot dog so we just had some watermelon and chips.

Have you ever thought about what our sin is like in the eyes of God?  We compare ourselves to others.  Our sin isn't nearly as bad as theirs so we must be pretty good.  But God compares our sin to His perfect law.  He compares our sin to His perfect, righteous and holy nature.  And our sin isn't just bad, it is evil in His eyes.

After eating we went back up to the play equipment.  Shortly after, the little boy had a bathroom accident. He's probably 4 or 5 years old.  It got all over the slide, the sidewalk, his shoes and pants.  One of the interns (bless her heart) and I gave him a shower and cleaned him up.  I threw away his old clothes and we gave him some new ones.

So what did God do?  He sent His Son, His perfect Son, to bear the wrath that our sin deserved.  

After getting him cleaned up, we went and played basketball for a really long time.  One of the basketball hoops was lowered to about 6 feet.   I would lift him up and he would dunk the basketball.  Then he would kick the ball and we'd chase after it.  He would be laughing the whole time.  We both had a blast.

I try not to think about what might be happening in this boy's home. But what I do think about is that the love of Christ is being extended to this little boy through the actions of His people. Through the actions of His church in White Swan.

This little boy walking around in his own filth is not all that different than me walking around in my sin. Without Christ I would be no different.  Without the gift of faith that God gives I would be walking around in the filth of my sin, dead in my sin.

"Jesus said to him, 'I am the way, and the truth, and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me."  John 14:6

I'm thankful for the opportunity to share the love of Christ to those like this little boy.  I pray that God will change his heart.  I'm daily amazed by the fact that He has chosen to change mine.

Through the Eyes of a Journalist

Sunday, July 13:
These little kiddos are my favorite! I love hearing the tiny voices behind me sing of God's mighty grace and love. Forever sat with me during church: she's a sweetheart that whines at the tiniest accidental scratch from my finger nail and wears a ripped tank top. She is squirmy and always moving around. Her brother Drake was baptized a few weeks back at Hope Fellowship's dedication service. I love the preschoolers.

Monday, July 14:
Ahhh! I saw Rida at Kids Club!!! I haven't seen her since November. She seemed better off last summer: cleaner, more aware of things going on around her, better fed, easier to understand. She came to Kids Club late; I gave her a big hug and told her that I was so glad to see her. She mumbled something about food, how she came for the snacks. Later, during snack and story time, I asked her if she had eaten today, and she said no. She doesn't speak as clearly as many of the other kids. But I have missed that girl like CRAZY. It was such a joy to see her pop bubbles and laugh, hold her, let her lean against me during story time, paint her nails, just to see her smile.

Rida

Tuesday, July 15:
Rida came to Kids Club again! She would tug on my braid all afternoon to get my attention from her secure grip on my shoulders. Her little voice told me that she wanted me to braid her hair like mine was braided. So we found a spot in the shade: she sat; I braided. I was told later that doing someone's hair is an honor here, something that is typically only done by people that you really care about, like your family. I loved watching Rida fling her braid from shoulder to shoulder. This girl is such a joy and I'm so thankful for every minute that I can spend with her.

Rida and her sister, Azie

Wednesday, July 16:
104 degrees at Kids Club = hot. And it's even warmer when kids want you to play tag with them on your back! The attendance was low today, I felt. Leah and I did chalk and made our fingerprints on the concrete. Marcus, one that my dad played with last summer, sat with me during snack time. He would crack up upon discovering that he could blow air into his empty Capri Sun juice pouch. He blew it up and held it to my lips: "Drink it! There's lots!" I pretended to drink it, licking my lips. He's a smart little one: "No, drink it for reals!" Lucas, Marcus' younger brother, doesn't talk much, if at all. Both of them loved the sprinklers all week. The Lord is working out here, and it is so awesome to see the smiles on each little face.

Leah

Thursday, July 17:
Today was our off day, and I'm already drinking my second cup of coffee. It has been hot and busy and I feel like I'm going to be endlessly low on sleep when I live here! But sitting with those kids at Kids Club confirms that this is where the Lord wants me. I love playing with the kids and hearing them laugh as other interns and I chase each other with squealing kiddos on my back. I love letting them sit in my lap and make crafts. I love their messy faces and watching them gulp down water. These kids need Jesus.

Hunnie

Friday, July 18:
Anna tells me that she is five, but she looks three years old. She hardly smiled today, but she did let me pick her up for a tiny bit. She spent a good 10 minutes making a single beaded bracelet. I watched, agreeing with youth interns about the low attendance and laughing about the week. Anna just sat there, focused and silent. Her face lit up a couple of times, the first being when she finished the bracelet and put it on my wrist. I love this little one.

Saturday, July 19:
I'm multitasking twenty-four-seven, always thinking, running low on sleep, busy, tired, dirty, and out of my comfort zone, but the Lord is faithfully pouring me out for the hungry and satisfying the desires of the afflicted. He is continually showing me that this is where I'm supposed to be. It's hard, hard to see the straight faces and scars and hear the silence of oh, so many hurts. It's hard to know that there's nothing I can do except try to show them a fraction of what Christ showed me. I am not enough. I will never be enough,  I can never do enough. But Christ is enough.

Today, Sunday, July 20:
The time I spent with the preschoolers this morning was so awesome. We had six kids in there today: three native children and three children of staff members. I love all of them. I love watching the missionary kids play dolls and cook in the pretend kitchen with the native girls after they are dismissed for preschool. I love seeing how each of them is artistic in his own way. Harmony puts her baby dolls to sleep. Millie and Lyddie read books together. Joey races his cars. Anna came to church, the same little one from Kids Club on Friday. She was happier today, but she still doesn't like to be held much. I was pleasantly surprised when she sat on my lap for a good portion of the service without squirming too much. She sat and played with the bracelets on my hands, one of which was the one that she had beaded for me at Kids Club. She sat quietly, fingering them and pulling the rubber band bracelet that another sweet girl, Samantha, made for me. I think it was a calming distraction for her. She played dolls so sweetly with the other girls during preschool time, sharing and laughing and taking care of her babies, cooking for them and dressing them. There are around twelve kids living in her house as of now. Her hair is tangled and her lips are either chapped or covered in lollipop or popsicle. Pray for her safety and for this little girl, along with so many others, to know that the joy of the Lord will be her strength.

Harmony

Beauty in the Brokenness

 

 After being out here on the Rez during the last team week and now this week, the Lord has done nothing but encourage and confirm his plan for us to be here. All of my doubts and worries have washed away, and it's as if they were never even there. I'm so thankful to be here and to be able to move out here and serve Christ in this way. 

He's truly helped me see all of the beauty in this broken land. I love to get down in the dirt and make crafts with these kids, to run through the sprinklers with squealing children on my back, to buy seventy loaves of bread at bakery outlets for team breakfasts, and to see these smiles every day.

Me and Hunnie



 Rida

Me, Rida, Emily, and Azie

The Future . . . Now

Susie and I have had fun the last few days.  Both girls are gone to different places so it has just been us.  Now this weekend we are over in White Swan for the dedication service of the new church building for Hope Fellowship.

While I'm not looking forward to the girls being out of the house for good, the last few days and our time tomorrow are giving us a glimpse of what life will be like in a few short years.

But before they go off to college, we'll be spending a lot of time together in White Swan.

Looking forward to the new year.

Abounding Joy

Okay, so how many more months until I can move? Every time I visit the Rez I get more and more excited.

This past Tuesday, my 8th grade class took a trip to the reservation with my teacher, my mom, and me to get a glimpse of life on the Rez. I was so happy they could get an experience of my future life and so ecstatic I could get back to the reservation. We had an amazing time.

On Wednesday, we spent the first half of the day working at the new church: painting sheds, scraping rust, and painting the church. I loved getting to know the spring break teams from projects and hearing how they, too, were being blessed by their experience at Sacred Road. It was also pretty cool to be known as "the family" who was moving to the Rez.

I was most looking forward to my time at kids club though. And I wasn't disappointed. The precious faces and personalities of these children never fail to bless me. As we drove into Totus park, seeing those children running around made me smile so big. Soon after we arrived the children who did not live in the Totus housing development drove in on the Sacred Road buses. As the first girl, Jill, (top left) climbed on my back, I felt this sensation of overwhelming joy and peace and love. I met more children yesterday than I have ever met and each one of them had their own adorable smile and pair of sweet, chocolate eyes. The happiness in each of these suffering children is astounding. You think you had a bad day? Nothing compares to these kids who go through unbelieveable things and still find joy.

I am so happy and feel so blessed that I could visit the reservation again. It gets me so excited for my new life and the blessings that will overcome the hardships.

Please continue to pray for a swift building process as the church building is finished. Pray that these kids will continue to come to kids club during their spring break weeks, and that they will get excited to come to kids club in the summer. Pray that my family will still find peace in our new adventure. Praise God that I could have this trip and that we're so excited.

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Hope Fellowship Church in process

Painting the sheds

Craft time at kids club

Jay and Me

Bubbles with Jill and Jay

 

 

Our God is so Good.

 


"Pray the two sisters I love will be bold enough to go to church together and enjoy themselves. They are quiet and cautious, but pray that they will remember the Sacred Road staff from Kids Club this summer and feel welcome," reads my post from February 3rd.

This little kiddo came to church on Sunday!

Thank you, thank you, thank you for praying with me for this precious daughter of the King. After over eight months of praying that Rida would come to church, the Lord answered our prayers and brought her safely to church with the same beautiful smile that I saw in the summer! We serve an amazing God! Thank Him with me and please continue to pray for her little heart, that she will continue to come and feel the unending love of Christ.

I am full speed ahead to the Rez. I am so excited. My week has been made. Ahh! I am just so happy. I'm pretty sure I did a little happy dance in my room on Sunday night when I saw her face again. I have hardly stopped smiling! I don't think there are any words beyond these that can accurately describe how I feel: God is so good. So unbelievably good.

I want to be there.

I'm sure you've gotten this idea by now, but in case you haven't:  I cannot wait to be a part of the things happening on the Rez! I miss that busy week last summer and I can't wait to live it again.

Yakama? is written on many a Sunday's square in the calendar. I wish wholeheartedly that I could cross out the ? and the plans could be confirmed. I can guarantee that every Saturday there are thoughts of, "Let me check the weather forecast." Every Saturday I hope that there won't be snow and that someone will spontaneously suggest visiting Yakama the next day for church.

Kids Clubs are happening over two weeks during the month of March. The SRM team will meet at the housing projects again for the same VBS-type-activities that go on during the summer. I would almost give anything to be there! I am already praying, and I hope you will join me in praying, that these two weeks will be some of the best ever. That kids will come and enjoy themselves and receive the love of Christ. And also for the staff and interns, that they will be filled with an abundance of love and patience and peace over the month of March in all of the prep for these two weeks.

I am in my homey-suburbs for a reason and the Lord has tasks for me here, but I can't help but hope that one of these days the weather forecast will be clear of snow and we will head back over to the Rez.

Specific Prayer Requests

As I sit here with a stuffed nose, oversized sweatshirt, and a picture of that same little five-year-old boy that stole a piece of my heart, I am struck by the over-all encouraging response we have gotten about this crazy adventure. I cannot wait to get out to the Rez; I cannot wait to show the love of Christ to this little boy and his sister. Thank you for helping make this possible.

The comments regarding this change in our lives have been amazing. The kind, genuine responses really do mean a lot to us. Just the other evening, we were sitting around the dinner table (eating a meat/carrot/potato stew that allowed me to flash forward to our future country life). We were discussing the many people who have been such a blessing to us these past few months and who are continuing to show great generosity. Thank you. Please continue to come before the Lord in prayer, especially regarding the following.

Pray for peace for my family during this seemingly slow transition to Rez life. Pray for Rachel and my school situations for junior and freshman year. Pray for the Lord to strengthen us and give us the ability to do His work without tiring. But above all, pray for His will to be done in everything.

Pray for all of us as we continue to spread the word about God's call for our lives. Pray that we will be equipped with the right words to say and have gracious responses to those we talk to.

Thank the Lord for the daily encouragement we are receiving from both financial and prayer partners.

Pray for church each Sunday evening on the Rez. Pray that the attendance will be high and that the children will be focused and alert and joyful. Pray that their hearts will be softened and receptive to Christ's love. Pray that they will feel super duper loved and appreciated and want to come back next week. Pray that all of them will be safe and provided for at home.

Pray the two sisters I love will be bold enough to go to church together and enjoy themselves. They are quiet and cautious, but pray that they will remember the Sacred Road staff from Kids Club this summer and feel welcome.

Pray for the five and three-year-old. Pray for them. Their little hearts are hurting and only Christ can give them comfort. Thank the Lord that they have been able to spend some time with other staff families this week and enjoy a taste of what a loving, Christ-centered family looks like.

Hope.

If you could see my desk, in fact, my whole room, right now, you would be appalled. It's embarrassing. But I have to set that aside. I need to write. I can't focus on Watership Down with two faces in my head: the faces of two kids whose lives really are pain. They are really two of the most beautiful kids I have ever seen; their dark eyes are so innocent but their tiny hearts have been hurt and scarred.

This entire week, I've been thinking almost nonstop about these two little kids on the Rez. He is five and she is three. They giggle, they are full of energy, and they love macaroni and cheese. They smile like any other kid out there. They make me laugh. I want to talk to them constantly. They are sweet and playful. But their hearts hurt. They lack sleep, they are malnourished, they are unkempt, they cry.

Their faces keep reminding me of the life I am living compared to theirs. I can't get over the fact that I'm eating three meals a day when they are barely eating one. That I have a closet stuffed with clothes and a tiny three-year-old wears a mismatched broken sandal and a black dress shoe. I am so incredibly blessed with a family that loves me, encourages me, feeds me, laughs with me, and comforts me; the "family" of these precious kids fell apart even before they were born. I think about their house that is covered with inappropriate dirt, compared to mine that is bursting with everything, with every need of mine already met.

I struggle with this. I struggle with the life I am living and the life they are living. My happy, complete, safe life and their broken one. From human eyes, it looks like these two sweethearts are hopeless. No one is watching out for them, no one is making sure they eat, no one is making sure they are clean. Their future is hopeless.

If it weren't for Christ, they would be hopeless. But God's grace and God's Kingdom are for little children like these. It is for the helpless, the scarred, the broken. His Kingdom is for the five-year-olds and the three-year-olds on the Rez. They have hope. Their King will return.

I can only finish with this: Come Lord Jesus.