Shedding a Few Tears

There are tears today as I look at the clock just now and think of Emily.  It is 10:20 a.m. and she is finishing up her last day at Cedar Park High School.  There were tears last night at bedtime as she and I talked and prayed about today.  I thanked the Lord for giving my daughters willing hearts to leave so many things behind....special friends, favorite teachers, classes, routines we are familiar with.

Two nights ago Rachel babysat her cousins and she told me she was going to miss them so much.  I felt myself on the verge of tears.  We are going to miss grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. 

There were good-byes at co-op yesterday and tears pricked my eyes throughout most of the day.  I'm going to miss this little world I've been in.  

I think we may have just entered one of the hard parts of this journey.   The verse going through my head today is:  "Whoever loses His life for my sake, will find it,"  (Matthew 16:25).

As I'm typing this, my phone is beeping with texts.  One is from a friend saying she is praying for me and asking how am I doing?  Another friend is texting saying she is making a huge batch of spaghetti sauce and can we use some for a dinner next week.  Providential?  Absolutely.  God is amazing.  His eye is on the sparrow and I know He is watching me. 

It's time to wipe these tears off because Darren is texting me right now saying the storage PODS are on their way! 

Thank you all for walking with us, caring for us, praying for us and cheering us on.  

*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  

A History Lesson

Joshua Tsavatewa is the Children's Director at Sacred Road Ministries. He recently sent out the update below regarding a trip he took with Wendell Lee, a Yakama elder back to the east coast. He talks about the Indian Boarding Schools and their place in Native American history. It is very well done and, with his permission, I thought many of you might be interested in learning more about this.

As you read, keep in mind the ministry Joshua has with the children of the Yakama Nation. Joshua could use partners to come alongside him in prayer and finances. Financial partners that might come alongside him to help with his personal support as well as to fully fund the needs of the Children's Ministry. If the Lord so moves, here is the link.

Dear Friends and Family.

“And God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. God saw the people of Israel – and God knew.”  Exodus 2:24-25

We recently covered the story of Moses with the children and this passage has been on my mind, and it’s long been one of my favorites. I love the sequence of God hears, God remembers, God sees, God knows, and then God MOVES, as the story of the Exodus then unfolds. His timing is not always ours but He is always at work. 

I’ve also thought about that passage because of recent events. At the end of September, Wendell Lee and I traveled to Pennsylvania for the East Coast Talking Circle. While we were there we went to Carlisle to see the Carlisle Indian Industrial School. In my letters, I haven’t talked about much of the past regarding Native history, and most of you have a general grasp of the tragic history.

Sadly, few know of the legacy of the boarding schools. Until the 1970s, thousands and thousands of Indian children were taken (often by force) from their families and raised by strangers while their culture was systematically destroyed and/or undermined. There are countless stories of neglect, abuse, mistreatment, and death. The schools were always run by whites and usually had Christian denominational ties. The schools have left many scars on Native communities, and the influence is especially seen today with many parents and grandparents who do not know how to love or care for children, as they were not loved as a child.

Carlisle was the first Indian Boarding School, and its founder famously said, “Kill the Indian, and save the man.” So when Wendell and I went to Carlisle, it was with very heavy and sad hearts. It was made even worse when we visited the old campus. It’s now a military base with no memorial to what happened. There’s barely any recognition of the hurt and pain that Native communities experienced and still feel today that came from those schools. Wendell and I had just been at The Talking Circle where we both shared about how Native communities feel forgotten, invisible, and ignored. Then we visited Carlisle to see one of the most important events in Native history brushed off. It’s not exactly the same, but imagine if Auschwitz were a giant German military base today with a few plaques? 

Carlisle, and every other Indian Boarding School, has a cemetery. 186 children are buried there. A few weeks ago, Anglican Bishop Mark MacDonald spoke here on the Yakama Reservation regarding the Truth and Reconciliation Process in Canada and the trauma of Canadian Boarding Schools. He pointed out, “What kind of schools have cemeteries?”  At Carlisle, and all the others, hundreds of children died, and when you read their stories, it breaks your heart. I walked through the cemetery at Carlisle and read off the names – names that also belong to children I work with: Charles, Alfred, Maggie, Anthony, Lucy, Leah, Robert, Elizabeth, Percy, and so on. I also thought about the pain and heartache they face because of what was inflicted on their grandparents and passed on to them. 

There’s a lot of pain, death, hurt, and sadness in Native communities, and when I got back to the Rez, it all kind of overwhelmed me. I began to feel overcome by grief and despair. I talked with Chuck about my trip to Carlisle and it became clear that I can be nowhere else but here, working with the kids here to give them hope in the light of Christ. I thought of John 6 when many disciples leave Jesus and Jesus asks Peter, “Do you want to go away as well?” Peter responds, “Where are we going to go? You have eternal life.” At times, it appears the light is going to be snuffed out and darkness will triumph. However, we, like Anna and Simeon, hold on to the promise, and believe in the one who has eternal life. 

We also know that the story of The Exodus is replayed over and over again in our lives and in others. God hears His people’s cry, remembers His covenant, sees the pain and hurt, knows our weakness and that we are dust, and then He Himself comes to deliver us. 

I write all this so you can have more insights into what we face here and how you can pray for us. I know God’s people have been praying for White Swan for many years and He is moving here. It’s a wonderful thing! Many are coming to faith and walking with God. But there are 310 Reservations in the USA, and 961 Reserves in Canada and I don’t know about the Indigenous communities of Latin America. But there are hundreds of pockets of poverty and darkness with layer upon layer of sin and sadness. Thank you for your continued prayer and support and please pray especially that God would bring more people and reach more Native Peoples. Pray that God’s people cry out on behalf of Native people, that God would hear His people, and He would move in Native communities. 

Here a couple of links if you want to find out more about boarding schools:

Here’s a great article from the Washington Post regarding a visit to Carlisle, and the story of Ernest, son of Chief White Thunder.

Rabbit Proof Fence is the best movie dealing with boarding schools. Aboriginal boarding schools, but basically the exact same as what happened here. Here’s the Trailer. Watch it; it’s a powerful movie. 

Here are some pictures I took at Carlisle. 

Requests:

Please pray for us during the Christmas season. It’s very busy and the roads can get icy.

Please pray for me as I’m now teaching the lesson for the Middle School kids

Praises:

We’ve been averaging 70 teenagers for Youth Group on Tuesdays, and as a result split them so the High school kids meet downstairs and the Middle School kids meet upstairs. It’s a great problem to have too many kids!

We took a record 95 teenagers to the Corn Maze in October, and it was a huge success, lots of fun, and a great outreach. 

We had an awesome Art Day in November! You can read and see more about it by clicking here. 

Grace and Peace,

Joshua Tsavatewa

Cell 509-930-0100

www.sacredroadministries.com

jtsavatewa.blogspot.com

jtsavatewa2002@yahoo.com

youtube.com/sacredroad

Address (mail)                             

PO Box 223                                 

Harrah, WA 98933                                              

Address (support)

Sacred Road Ministries

PO Box 400

Harrah, WA 98933

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

A Call to Missions

Our family will head to Colorado for a month of missionary/cross-cultural training in February 2015.  This is done through Mission Training International (MTI) -- a missionary training organization that has been around for 60 years.  We will attend classes and learn practical skills to help us through the challenges and adjustments of another culture.  We are all pretty excited to see what we will learn.  I've been amazed too, at the small world of how many people we know who have either been to MTI or know someone who attended it -- all with rave reviews. 

Interestingly, the last time I was in Colorado was when I was in high school.  I attended a nationwide Christian and Missionary Alliance youth conference, called "LIFE", at Colorado State University.  Hundreds of youth from the CMA denomination attended.  There were wonderful speakers and times of worship each day.

One evening someone spoke -- possibly Morris Dirks, I don't quite remember -- and it was about the call to missions.  The message touched my heart and I felt the Holy Spirit speaking to me about missions.  I went forward, prayed and told the Lord that if He ever called me into missions, I would obey and go.  I was pretty convinced that missions was going to be in my future.

Fast forward a few years later.  Darren and I were dating and I told him I thought I was supposed to be a missionary. He told me he did not picture himself ever doing that.  But he encouraged me and said, "We will serve the Lord in the church here in the U.S."  I agreed that would be good as well, but I did wonder why I had felt that strong call to missions that one night in Colorado.

When this whole idea of leaving our current life and moving to Sacred Road came up last year, one of my first thoughts went back to this night at the LIFE conference, of course.

I wrestled with it.  "Lord, you aren't asking me to go now, are you?  Things are different now.  My life feels settled and good.  We can't just pick up and go."  Hadn't that door to missions closed years ago?

Thankfully the Lord gently showed me that He was calling me now.  He reminded me that His timing and ways are different than mine.  He reminded me that He had put that seed in my heart long ago and now it was time to obey.  

I love how the Lord weaves our lives and how He knew He would be sending me back to Colorado someday -- for missionary training!  I never cease to be amazed at His goodness and perfect plan!

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.