This morning I groggily woke up upon hearing my roommate call my name. Turns out she actually didn't call me, it was just another of God's ploys to get me out of bed. I had to take Nyquil last night and needed a sober wake-up call. Anyway, I crawled out of bed and started vigorously rubbing my arms. I quickly ran over to my fan to turn it off. I thought about my sweatshirt in the closet. These are all signs that IT'S FINALLY GETTING COLD!!! By this time last year, I had been donning the sweaters and scarves (all lightweight, mind you) for a month already. This whole global warming issue has gotten completely out of hand. I hear it's happening in America, too (or at least in California where it's been in the 80's and 90's where it's usually in the 50's by now). This is a little disappointing, I must say. It is especially disappointing because I get to go home in 2 days. All fall I have been daydreaming about getting to don my favorite wool coat, drink piping hot holiday-flavored espresso drinks and sitting by the homefires singing along to Christmas carols played by my stepdad on his old baby grand. I guess I will still get to do some of these things, except I might have to make those drinks iced and the wool coat might just be slung over the back of my chair. Boo. Christmas carols still on, though.
But, IT'S FINALLY GETTING COLD HERE!! Yes, friends, today is my first official' it's-quite-possible-I- may-be-able-to-wear-this-hoody-all-day' day! Woo-hoo! It's also pouring down rain, which might also mean I won't want to wear my hoody all day since it'll probably get soaked. Sigh.
HAPPY IT'S FINALLY GETTING COLD HERE DAY!!!!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Why I love the Dominican Republic
Yesterday I was sitting out front of Martina's house after lunch. The sun was shining, Venicio and a couple of Haitian guys were pasting cement over a concrete wall that borders their house making it look more adobe style. Yeimi, Fran's wife and daughter of Martina and Venicio, was sitting in the chair next to me, picking the paint off her fingernails and Natan, Fran's littlest, was sitting on top of Bo-Bo's dog kennel rocking back and forth violently while he told me a story I understood little of. It was one of those moments in life where I inherently knew I needed to soak up every detail because I knew I'd never get this day back. Then something more wonderful happened. One of the Haitian guys turned from his work to ask Venicio a question about his shoes. I didn't really hear the question, but I did hear Martina run from inside the house and start publicly 'telling' on her husband some anecdote regarding the shoes. She made fun of him so loudly and they were both laughing and then they started pinching, tickling and hitting at eachother playfully. A husband and wife in their fifties, married for over 26 years, acting all giddy and silly, laughing hysterically. Then Venicio grabbed her in his arms, hugged her tight and said, "Mujer!" (woman). I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I laughed.
There are moments like these that come and renew my spirit, that lift up my heart and when I think to myself, 'I love the Dominican Republic'. Shortly after I headed back to the art site to open up for our afternoon students. I got there a little early and so decided to start back on a painting that has been giving me trouble. I have some how lost communication with the originial idea and it keeps transforming, yet not yet into what it will be. Anyway, I took it outside to spray another layer of gold spray paint on it to subdue some of the other colors. As I was shaking up the can, three of our new teenage art students loudly barged in. "Amy! Que tu haces? (what are you doing?)" Jose Daniel asked and so I explained and then he patted me on the shoulder and said to his friends (I'll just write it in English for y'all), "See! I told you guys she was amazing. You're even better than Profe (Francisco). You are such a Tigeraza (have no idea how to translate that except to say a combo between 'fierce' and 'the bomb') !" I gently full-nelsoned him, commanded them to 'get to work!' and we all laughed.
Francisco finally came in to work. He had vertigo yesterday because of an ear infection (or rather, water had gotten in his ears when he went swimming in the river). I poured in some Hydrogen Peroxide mixed with water (something he'd never heard of) and he delightedly giggled at the sound of it fizzing in his ears. He felt almost immediately better and then we started joking around. He playfully teased the art students, I told him all the 'bad' words I had learned since I'd been here (I didn't actually know they weren't appropriate until I said one and he, with shocked expression, asked me where I'd learned that word). He thought it was hilarious.
What a jovial day.
I love the Dominican Republic.
There are moments like these that come and renew my spirit, that lift up my heart and when I think to myself, 'I love the Dominican Republic'. Shortly after I headed back to the art site to open up for our afternoon students. I got there a little early and so decided to start back on a painting that has been giving me trouble. I have some how lost communication with the originial idea and it keeps transforming, yet not yet into what it will be. Anyway, I took it outside to spray another layer of gold spray paint on it to subdue some of the other colors. As I was shaking up the can, three of our new teenage art students loudly barged in. "Amy! Que tu haces? (what are you doing?)" Jose Daniel asked and so I explained and then he patted me on the shoulder and said to his friends (I'll just write it in English for y'all), "See! I told you guys she was amazing. You're even better than Profe (Francisco). You are such a Tigeraza (have no idea how to translate that except to say a combo between 'fierce' and 'the bomb') !" I gently full-nelsoned him, commanded them to 'get to work!' and we all laughed.
Francisco finally came in to work. He had vertigo yesterday because of an ear infection (or rather, water had gotten in his ears when he went swimming in the river). I poured in some Hydrogen Peroxide mixed with water (something he'd never heard of) and he delightedly giggled at the sound of it fizzing in his ears. He felt almost immediately better and then we started joking around. He playfully teased the art students, I told him all the 'bad' words I had learned since I'd been here (I didn't actually know they weren't appropriate until I said one and he, with shocked expression, asked me where I'd learned that word). He thought it was hilarious.
What a jovial day.
I love the Dominican Republic.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
The All Consuming Fire
Are we comfortable with God's jealousy? Do we understand His passionate love that burns continually, constantly and is directed toward us? I know that it is often hard for me when He comes with that burning, searing fire of purification, of sanctification. My flesh and its desires writhe in pain, crying out for it to cease. I want to run and hide, find refuge among the familiar systems that I've built to keep myself 'safe'. At the same time, my soul craves His touch, no matter what form it comes in and my spirit cries out for completion; to be redeemed and restored to its perfect likeness, made in His image. We who are born again, who have been born anew of His Spirit and who have been given freedom to choose Him, receive His jealous love as those inner fires of transformation, trials, persecutions. His passion is fierce, relentless. He is all-consuming. I imagine these are what the fires of Hell are. Un-renewed people standing in His fire of love, yet unable to enter into its full embrace. He is everywhere and there is nowhere one can go to escape His presence. The presence of the Living God is a fire that consumes everything it its path. It is a love to be consumed by, but those who do not have His life-giving Spirit will never be able to enter into that consuming love. They will feel it on them, burning, but will never be able to be transformed into it. This is torture. An unquenchable fire. We who have received Christ and position ourselves before Him become those very living flames of love, both purified and purifying; being sanctified, yet already holy.
This is our privilege.
Let his holy, purifying, perfecting love come in and chase out all fear, all foe, all sin, all death.
"Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom which cannot be shaken, let us have grace, by which we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear. For our God is a consuming fire." Hebrews 12:28,29
Saturday, November 1, 2008
The Things We Don't Understand
"...being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ;" Php. 1:6
He's never done. And even though I have the above scripture pretty much memorized, He still catches me off guard when He comes in to complete more of the work.
I remember thinking back in 2005 when I was going on a short-term trip to Nigeria to administer Polio vaccine that I was entering the last 'promise of God' that I knew about in my own life. What I mean is that throughout my growing up years, every so often I'd get these flash visions of myself as an adult standing in Africa, holding a baby and talking with some women. In my mind, that was the be all, end all. But, as I was standing in Africa just 3 years ago, holding a baby and talking to some women, I felt fulfilled. I didn't feel called to move my whole life to Africa. I remember coming back to California feeling confounded and a little lost. Silly, I know. Just months later, our church decided to establish a missions program and I lead an 8-person team down here to the Dominican Republic. While here for two weeks, God resurrected this old dream I'd had as a 15 year old, to live for a couple years in a Spanish speaking country, get fluent and make art. I had let that dream die due to many factors and had a hard time reconciling myself with it as God kept moving my heart around, opening a desire to come and serve here. And, still, within my first year here, I kept asking God, "But, what next? I mean, I've been in Africa, I'm doing the Spanish/art thing now, but what comes after, God?"
It's amazing what things we forget, what things we don't understand. But, God never forgets, nor is He short on understanding. Not only did He form me in my mother's womb, He chose where I would live, what I would do and the kind of relationship I would have with Him.
Ever since I was little, maybe 5 or 6, I would tell people that I was going to write a book one day. As I grew a little older and learned how to write, I was always penning short stories, TV scripts, poems. I even had a dream as a teenager where I was reading at the title of a book and when I looked to see who the author was, it was me! Something in me has always known I was made to be a writer. Yet, a different something in me felt like it wasn't noble enough. But, this last year, God has been, once again, coming in to remind me of the work still left uncompleted in the life He designed for me. And the ways He comes in to lovingly remind me, to encourage me as my adoring Father... well, he just knocks me down every time.
Tonight I was feeling discouraged for various reasons, but as I took my seat in the front row of my weekly discipleship class at church, I set my mind to glean all I could from the teaching. The pastor at one point asked a question, which I answered under my breath not intending to be heard, but he did hear it and he pointed at me and said, "Amy Babb. Amy Babb. You have the name of an author. 'Written by Amy Babb.'" He giggled, I answered the question so everyone could hear and he moved on. He didn't know it, but God had just used this man to affirm me in something that I so long to do, so long to be.
I think that it's hard sometimes to believe that the things we most desire are really God's desires for us. I often struggle with the seeming contradiction of: "Delight yourself also in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart" and "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked, who can know it?" I realize these things are not in contradiction because God is completely true always, but I have still gotten caught in the trap of believing that my good desires are not necessarily good. I think part of this comes from walking through fires and trials that God has called me into, things I didn't desire, but were from Him.
Okay, I admit it. I want to be an expert on the ways of God. It's true. I want all understanding, all knowledge-- just overall omni-whatever. But I also love surprises. I beg God daily to reveal His will in my life, but when He actually does it, I get that same excitement of receiving an unexpected present. That's how I felt tonight. God has been telling me, through my desire, through encouragement of others, that yes, writing is something he wants me to do. But He went the extra mile tonight and caught me off guard by using someone who barely knows me. I don't get it. I'll never get His love that continually works on my behalf. I'll never understand why sometimes He talks to me non-stop and at others is silent for too long (in my opinion :) ).
I want to be complete, yet I love that there are things left for Him to do. I want to be in the fulness of His presence, yet I love it when He shows up unexpectedly after a long absence. I am addicted to the mystery.
He's never done. And even though I have the above scripture pretty much memorized, He still catches me off guard when He comes in to complete more of the work.
I remember thinking back in 2005 when I was going on a short-term trip to Nigeria to administer Polio vaccine that I was entering the last 'promise of God' that I knew about in my own life. What I mean is that throughout my growing up years, every so often I'd get these flash visions of myself as an adult standing in Africa, holding a baby and talking with some women. In my mind, that was the be all, end all. But, as I was standing in Africa just 3 years ago, holding a baby and talking to some women, I felt fulfilled. I didn't feel called to move my whole life to Africa. I remember coming back to California feeling confounded and a little lost. Silly, I know. Just months later, our church decided to establish a missions program and I lead an 8-person team down here to the Dominican Republic. While here for two weeks, God resurrected this old dream I'd had as a 15 year old, to live for a couple years in a Spanish speaking country, get fluent and make art. I had let that dream die due to many factors and had a hard time reconciling myself with it as God kept moving my heart around, opening a desire to come and serve here. And, still, within my first year here, I kept asking God, "But, what next? I mean, I've been in Africa, I'm doing the Spanish/art thing now, but what comes after, God?"
It's amazing what things we forget, what things we don't understand. But, God never forgets, nor is He short on understanding. Not only did He form me in my mother's womb, He chose where I would live, what I would do and the kind of relationship I would have with Him.
Ever since I was little, maybe 5 or 6, I would tell people that I was going to write a book one day. As I grew a little older and learned how to write, I was always penning short stories, TV scripts, poems. I even had a dream as a teenager where I was reading at the title of a book and when I looked to see who the author was, it was me! Something in me has always known I was made to be a writer. Yet, a different something in me felt like it wasn't noble enough. But, this last year, God has been, once again, coming in to remind me of the work still left uncompleted in the life He designed for me. And the ways He comes in to lovingly remind me, to encourage me as my adoring Father... well, he just knocks me down every time.
Tonight I was feeling discouraged for various reasons, but as I took my seat in the front row of my weekly discipleship class at church, I set my mind to glean all I could from the teaching. The pastor at one point asked a question, which I answered under my breath not intending to be heard, but he did hear it and he pointed at me and said, "Amy Babb. Amy Babb. You have the name of an author. 'Written by Amy Babb.'" He giggled, I answered the question so everyone could hear and he moved on. He didn't know it, but God had just used this man to affirm me in something that I so long to do, so long to be.
I think that it's hard sometimes to believe that the things we most desire are really God's desires for us. I often struggle with the seeming contradiction of: "Delight yourself also in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart" and "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked, who can know it?" I realize these things are not in contradiction because God is completely true always, but I have still gotten caught in the trap of believing that my good desires are not necessarily good. I think part of this comes from walking through fires and trials that God has called me into, things I didn't desire, but were from Him.
Okay, I admit it. I want to be an expert on the ways of God. It's true. I want all understanding, all knowledge-- just overall omni-whatever. But I also love surprises. I beg God daily to reveal His will in my life, but when He actually does it, I get that same excitement of receiving an unexpected present. That's how I felt tonight. God has been telling me, through my desire, through encouragement of others, that yes, writing is something he wants me to do. But He went the extra mile tonight and caught me off guard by using someone who barely knows me. I don't get it. I'll never get His love that continually works on my behalf. I'll never understand why sometimes He talks to me non-stop and at others is silent for too long (in my opinion :) ).
I want to be complete, yet I love that there are things left for Him to do. I want to be in the fulness of His presence, yet I love it when He shows up unexpectedly after a long absence. I am addicted to the mystery.
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