And The Lord Will Guide You

What a year this has been! I apologize for my delay in an update; it has been a very busy past few months as I transitioned into East Valley High School for my sophomore year and continue to settle into life on the east side of Washington state. 

These past few months, I have struggled with feelings of guilt. I left many friends and the life I knew in Seattle and moved to an unknown place for a known God. I knew that I’d be giving up a lot and that it’d be one of the hardest things I’ve done. I was blessed throughout the summer with forming relationships with the children here. I started leading a group of K-2nd grade girls on Sunday mornings and was blessed beyond belief by their friendships and getting to share God’s love with them. I felt like things were working out great. I missed my friends, but I knew that I was right where I was supposed to be and loved the kids here.

Then school started. Transferring into a new school as a sophomore is hard, but I began making new friends. I was blessed with great teachers. I looked forward and continue to look forward to school every day, and Sunday mornings every weekend. However, I started feeling a lot of guilt. Leaving Seattle was really difficult. The summer was difficult. Once school started, things seemed easier; almost normal again.  I started feeling like I hadn’t really given up anything. I had, but I felt like I had gotten it back and it wasn’t hard anymore.

Suddenly, my guilt turned to thankfulness. I believe that our God is so great that he fulfilled his promise in Isaiah 58:10-11 by blessing me for fulfilling His work. “If you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday. And the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places.”

One of the truths that I often forget is that life is about serving God and only Him. He will bless the work that is fulfilled for his glory. 

Pray that I will make an impact in the lives of the K-2nd grade girls every Sunday morning, and that the Lord would provide wisdom in how to teach them about His love. 

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.

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.

 

 

Training & Transitioning

The Transition Bridge: an illustration of the transition onto the mission field, beginning with the settled and unsettled phases and moving into complete chaos before one can feel somewhat resettled and then finally 60% settled once again.

One randomly selected "family" and two single individuals journeyed across the bridge made of chairs [settled stage], rocking chairs [unsettled stage], exercise bouncy balls [chaos stage], rocking chairs [resettling], and secure chairs [new settled stage]. The family, made up of a mom and dad and two children, was linked together quite closely with hiking gear and clips because a family is a close unit and communicates in a way unique from that of the singles. Mom travels backwards because she wants to make sure her children make it safely across, and Dad wants to help out more but he cannot because of his position on the bridge. He is bringing up the rear and helping his kids across while facing his wife to communicate more easily. Sometimes the kids bounce a little, in the midst of the chaos, because it can be exciting and sometimes even fun, which puts the family off balance even more and makes Mom and Dad wonder if anything else could possibly be added to the chaos. When one family member struggles and loses balance, the whole family struggles and comes together even more than before. And if one family member falls, the whole family "falls" and must return from the field.

The two single teammates are attached by a stretchy phone cord on each end of the family and must learn that, because the family is close and concerned with the safety of one another, it can be easy for the singles to feel somewhat left out. The singles also might have to work at a slower pace if the family is working at a slower pace to avoid the discomfort of the cord's tension.

And sometimes, in the middle of the chaos, Mom will get a message from someone: "Hey, we haven't gotten a newsletter in a while." "Hey, what are you doing with the money we are sending you? Could we get an update soon?" And Mom is thinking, Um, we are in the midst of serious chaos and we are just trying to make it, but she says, "We are really busy but we are doing okay."

The supporters on the outside help the family during the transition and lift them up in prayer from "home-base," supporting them and encouraging them from off the field. While the supporters are not attached to the traveling team by a cord, they are very much essential to the team's wellbeing. The family cannot make it across the chaos phase without support.

While all of the supporters and prayer warriors and encouragers are essential to our journey, the team must realize that it is God who holds the bridge in His unmoving hands and it is God who is our true hope and strength.

Thy Faithfulness

The snow has been falling steadily in Palmer Lake, Colorado, for the past twenty-four hours, and it is forecasted to fall for another twelve. I just walked outside for a few minutes to experience what 9 degrees feels like when it's combined with 11mph winds that whirl tiny snowflakes around in the sky. I don't think I've ever been so cold in my life - I'm a true Seattleite and I'm definitely not used to ten inches of snow and temperatures below twenty.

Being here at Mission Training International (MTI) has been such a wonderful experience. I am learning so much about so many different things. The first two weeks of training have been focused almost entirely on language learning and how to best approach any new language. In the moments that we aren't making strange new sounds with our mouths or consuming caffeine to keep us awake, we are talking about what it means to enter a new culture and engage fully in the paradox that is ministry.

It isn't easy to be here (nor is it easy to remain inside for days on end due to snow!), but it is so good to be here. It is such a blessing to see how God has brought all 68 of us here and to hear how He has called each one of us in a totally unique way. It has been such an encouragement to know that we are all experiencing the joys and hardships and blessings and discouragements of heading onto the mission field, and while each of us is experiencing something different, each of us knows what it means to truly rely on the Lord and trust His goodness.

God's faithfulness has been the subject of nearly all of my journal entries these past two weeks, and every day He shows His great faithfulness in such a new way. His grace and constant love are so overwhelming and His mercies are indeed new every morning, for which I am especially grateful. But ministry is a paradox. Some days are harder than others, and on those hard days that faithfulness looks as simple as a hot cup of tea in the evenings or a letter slipped under the door by one of my tiny five-year-old pen pals who are each heading onto mission fields of their own with their families.

But as we learn to appreciate the hard and the good of ministry by comparing both sides to a rubber duck, we see the blessing that comes with them both and that you cannot have the good without having the hard. Whether today was a "yuck-duck" day or a "yay-duck" day, all I have needed Thy hand hath provided, and great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.  
 

*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.
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"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.

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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

bittersweet weeks

These past few weeks have felt really bittersweet, and I write that honestly. This "both feet in both worlds" is hitting me hard. Lot 42 in the Porter's Landing Development is sold. I've been thinking and journaling and reading quite a bit lately, and Radical: Taking Back Your Faith From the American Dream by David Platt is hitting me over the head hard. Kind teachers and sweet friends have told me each day this week that they want me to stay in Bothell. It really does mean a lot - I'm thankful for the relationships that I've made, but they are exactly what makes this whole transition so difficult! Last night, with little Rida's sparkly summer butterfly from Kids Club hanging in my room, I wrote what ended up to be quite a long "statement" detailing why I want to be a part of Cedar Park's Independent Study Program. It was hard, I'll admit.

When you ask me if I'm excited, I'll tell you that I'm so excited, that I absolutely cannot wait to get to the Rez. The wobbly, singing preschoolers during church, the car mat at Totus Park, the see-saw and swings. The faces at Christmas, the tiny kiddos in the donated puffy jackets that are a size too big. I can't help but smile as I write this (I get to experience Christmas with them again this year!) The warm church in the middle of a cold, dry desert. Most of my heart was left in White Swan a year and a half ago. I'm beyond excited to be there all the time.

But on the other hand, this semester is moving much faster than I thought it would, and this transition much harder than I thought it would be. I'm so thankful for all of the prayers and encouragement over the past year and a half - it has been such a blessing. Don't stop praying for us now - please don't stop.

The Risk of Serving Christ

What is a risk? 

risk 
a noun: exposure to the chance of injury or loss; a hazard or dangerous choice.

Though some might say that my family is taking a great risk, I don't agree. John Piper sums up my thoughts exactly in his book, Don't Waste Your Life. 

“The tragic hypocrisy is that the enchantment of security lets us take risks every day for ourselves but paralyzes us from taking risks for others on the Calvary road of love. We are deluded and think that it may jeopardize a security that in fact does not even exist." (81)

In other words: risk is not real. Your heart could stop beating before the end of this sentence, yet you didn't think anything of opening up the link to this post. But if you were asked to travel to Africa with the "risk" of getting ebola, would you think twice? 

In my PNW History this week, I'm studying the gospel brought to the Northwest. The Spalding and Whitman's stories have been very impacting. On the day that Eliza Spalding and her husband moved onto the mission field with the Nez Perce Native Americans, she wrote, "I trust it is the love of Christ which has made me, not only willing, but anxious to promote my Master's cause among the benighted Indians. O blessed privilege to labor in the vineyard of my Savior; and point the lost and perishing to Him, for He is the way, the truth, and the life."

I don't believe that my family is taking a risk. I'm not saying I don't get scared, but I try to keep my mind on the fact that whatever happens will be God's will. The Lord has given me so much comfort as we keep moving on this journey. Even though I'm going to miss my friends here, I feel so privileged to go and serve in a place that needs Jesus.

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.

 

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 Things of Earth are Dimming

I think some people might wonder if our family is always excited for this new adventure in life. My dad, mom, Emily and I go through a lot of worry and doubt. Here’s a bit of an example of my worry. Most of the time I try to be really positive and excited about moving, but I’ve had a hard time with it this month. I’ve just finished middle school and I’ve made some amazing friendships along the way. Sometimes I cannot even imagine leaving all of my friends and my life here. To be completely honest, my feelings constantly change about the Rez. I get really, really excited about it, but sometimes I have a really hard time with the whole idea of it. Sometimes I really feel the enemy’s arrows of doubt.

But while these arrows do not cease, I also feel the Lord strengthening me to stand secure with the shield of faith. When I have days of doubt, when I cry from worry, when I freak out from anxiety, the Lord always brings up some passage of his Word, or plants a song in my ears, or gives me some brilliant sign that comforts me.

Just tonight I was sharing with my family that recently I’ve been feeling really anxious. I was sitting in my room on the floor crying, and I just felt the urge to listen to music. I opened up my iTunes to the top charts of Christian and Gospel music, and the first song I saw was a new single from my favorite Christian artist, For King & Country. The song was called “Fix my Eyes.” I bought the song that instant, even though I hadn’t heard it yet. And just tonight, I found myself sobbing in my bedroom, brought to tears by the overwhelming encouragement and guidance from this song. These are the lyrics that really got my attention:

The things of Earth are dimming

In the light of Your glory and grace

I'll set my sights upon Heaven

I'm fixing my eyes on you

 

I’d love like I’m not scared

Give when it’s not fair

Live life for another

Take time for my brother

 Fight for the weak ones

Speak out for freedom

Find faith in the battle

Stand tall and above it all

I'd fix my eyes on you

I’ve been worrying about the things of this earth, fixing my eyes on all of the things below, and forgetting what God has planned for me. The things of earth are dimming. I have to fix my eyes on the things of God.

Confessions from a Future Missionary Kid

I've been learning and studying a lot on St. Augustine these past few months, and in that time, I have been completely awed by this man's awareness of the holiness and splendor of our God. From a wretched, sinful man, to a holy, Christian Saint, Augustine had an amazing comprehension of the Lord. I am blessed to have an insight into his joy and faith that he put into words as I've been reading his Confessions.

As I've been reading Augustine's book, it has a different meaning to me than it might to most. The comfort and blessing of our journey to Sacred Road is sustained in my heart as I learn more about the majestic, merciful, awesome Father in heaven. This book has been just what I have needed to help me through some doubts during the past month.

If you haven't read John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress or Augustine's Confessions, I highly suggest that you do. When I face trials on the Rez, I really think these two books will encourage me and I know they will encourage you.

St. Augustine has been such a light for me in this journey.There is no doubt that the Lord has been at work in my heart while reading, and that He has been showing me that I can fulfill His call.

The Sacrifice

As I've been reflecting on the sufferings that Jesus went through for us, I have received more and more peace about my journey. As it says in Romans 8:32, "He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?"

Why should I complain? I haven't given up anything in this life. I mean, sure, the little things. Yet God gave his one and only Son that we might have life.

"For from him and through him and to him are all things." Romans 11:36

Why should we not live our lives for Him?

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.

God's Chosen Fast

One of my favorite passages of Scripture right now is Isaiah 58 which is one of the focus chapters for Sacred Road's mission. I love the reminder that it gives to us that God's chosen fast for us is to help the oppressed and needy and to loose the bonds of wickedness. On those days when I'm feeling discouraged, this gives me the encouragement I need to bring my sight back on fulfilling the task that God has set before me.

⁶ “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^[b] go free,
    and to break every yoke?
⁷ 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?
⁸ Then shall your light break forth like the dawn,
    and your healing shall spring up speedily;
your righteousness shall go before you;
    the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.
⁹ Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
    you shall cry, and he will say, ‘Here I am.’