Seis Mas

It's a rainy Saturday morning and I am sitting on my bed in my robe looking out the open door to a moss and lichen-covered tree filled with limes.  I ache sometimes when I catch these glimpses of exquisite beauty, knowing that soon and very soon I will not have the privilege of seeing this same view again.

I am leaving 6 weeks from today.  Writing it gives me a suffocated feeling.

I am going back to America, LAND that I LOOOOVE (from the mountains, to the valleys...) and I often ask my God

WHY?

because I basically have the most awesome life ever.  I get to look out my bedroom door at lime trees; listen to children laughing while the rooster crows atop his perch on Ysidro's lawn mower.  I get to roll my rumbly old jeep down the ragged road of El Callejon, crammed with 6 or 7 people, a lunch box and some water jugs while kids run toward us calling out my name, "EMI!!!"  I get to spend hours mixing paint colors, encouraging muralists to keep on painting amid the heat and bugs and rain and dirt.  I get to take profound truths leaving in Spanish from Francisco's lips, translate them and send them on to English hearing ears, watching eyes widen or close depending on how the words are received in the hearts.

Martina squeezes me tight in the mornings on my way to the breakfast line.  Natan rolls his eyes and shakes his head, not quite ready to greet the day with cheer (or my smile).

I have an incredible life.

Only 6 more weeks of Chinola juice.  6 more weeks of Sancocho.  6 more weeks of dodging motorcycles, of passionate worship, of kisses on the cheeks, of brightly color-coordinated women and waxed and preened men, of copy shops being out of paper and grocery stores being out of bread, of ice cream shops being out of ice cream and restaurants being out of cheese.

6 more weeks of junky old pick-ups loudly selling mattresses, platanos (a do' peso') and mother-in-laws.

And 6 more weeks of my beautiful friends.

O Jarabacoa, what am I going to do without you?  I have loved you and I have hated you and I have laughed at you and also with you.  I have cried with you, turned my back on you, invited you back in and spilled my heart onto you.  I will never be the same.

i like to paint

and i like to draw.

I Feel Like...

While taking siesta out on the balcony at the Escuela d'Arte Vocacional de Jarabacoa one humid afternoon, Vanessa, a visiting volunteer from California brought up an interesting topic/discovery: how often we tend to over use the phrases "I feel like...", "do you know what I mean?"  and everyone's favorite, "like".   She used an example to illustrate what she meant.  After biting into a chip, she said, "I feel like these chips are too salty".  I had to laugh.  Are salty chips a feeling?  Somehow, 'I feel like' has replaced 'In my opinion' or 'From my perspective'.  I asked her and our other volunteer, Denisse, if they thought it was because 'tolerance' has become the pervading value of modern American culture.  Vanessa suggested it came from the whole psychology office phenomenon of being asked 'how do you feel about that?'  I started thinking about Jerry Springer, Ricki Lake, Geraldo and all those other 'talk shows' where people sit up on a stage and share how they 'feel'.    I thought about all the training I've had in communication skills in where I've been taught to express my emotions in a conflict situation without falsely judging the other person: "When you said... I felt..." instead of "You make me feel..."  Anyway, the overall conclusion of our conversation was that we, as a society, are losing authority in the things that we say.  We have become afraid to speak our mind in the event we might offend.  We question our opinions or avoid conflict by preempting our opinions with a non-confrontational 'I feel like...'   I told them, "You know, if I were to eliminate the phrases that take pressure off of my being 'wrong', I would probably think more before I speak and say a whole lot less.  And, what I would say, would have authority or impact.  I would sound like I knew what I was talking about."

Ever since this conversation, I have been extra aware of my tendency to not speak with authority or confidence.  Often times, I actually DO have a strong opinion, but to avoid conflict, I will mask it behind the phrases, "I feel like" or "do you know what I mean?" (this is used to draw the other person into a place of harmony in agreement).

This also got me thinking again about a conversation I had a while back with a friend about blogging-- how everyone is blogging/twittering/facebooking these days, wanting to have a voice in this world.  However, so often we use these platforms for being heard to say nothing of importance or real significance at all: Amy Babb is soooo tireddd!  Amy Babb is going shopping. Amy Babb...fill in the blank.  

What is the deal with wanting to communicate so much without actually saying anything?

"Do not be rash with your mouth, and let not your heart utter anything hastily before God.  For God is in heaven and you on earth; therefore let your words be few.  For a dream comes through much activity and a fool's voice is known by his many words."  Ecclesiastes 5:2,3

"He who has knowledge spares his words, and a man of understanding is of a calm spirit.  Even a fool is counted wise when he holds his peace; when he shuts his lips, he is considered perceptive." Proverbs 17:27,28

Thanks to Vanessa, Denisse and Josh for bringing my attention back to the power of speech.

All for Love

I've been laid up for a month now after having had surgery to have a Plantar wart extracted from the bottom of my right foot. I wasn't even going to mention this in a blog cuz I honestly thought that it was a small enough thing of no consequence. It has turned into...bah. Long story. Without going into details, the healing process has taken a really long time. I have been stuck in the house for a month and only got off crutches a few days ago. I even had to miss working our first outreach of the summer :(
All this to share that I have been doing a lot of reading. As you may have read below, I finally finished all of my required discipleship reading. Then I started reading a book I picked up when I lived in Kansas City 5 years ago and had never read. It's on Mike Bickle's top 10 books to read list. "When Jesus Returns" by David Pawson. AWESOME. About a third of the way into it, I stared having dreams again. I get dreams from the Lord in cycles and it had been a while. However, these dreams were full of symbology and needed some more paying attention to. So, then I got out my book called "The Seer" by Jim Goll to see if I could glean any dream interpretation wisdom from it. Not too much. It had been a while since I'd read it, so I kind of skimmed through it. I love Jim Goll's writing. He wrote a great book called 'Kneeling on the Promises' which I wish I had brought down here with me, but... sidetrack.
Okay. After two weeks of reading informational books, I confess I just wanted some fiction. So, I had my roommate Amy go borrow some from our boss's house. I ended up with Brock and Bodie Thoene's book series the A.D. Chronicles (missing book 2, however). I'd heard of the Thoene's before, but had never really been interested in reading any of their stuff. If for no other reason, I am glad that the surgery aftermath caused such intense boredom that I decided to read these books. They take place during Jesus' time and are so full of history and are just, plainly, anointed. I have been so deeply moved as I encounter the love and mercy of Christ on every page.
As I've mentioned before in earlier posts, I have a tendency to get 'religious' on myself-- and subsequently on others. I have that inner drive to be perfect before the Lord; so desperately want to be pure and shining, and then become incredibly disheartened when I fall short. I don't think this is necessarily a bad quality, however what has struck me is just how easily I can fall back into a 'works' oriented way of operating in my spiritual walk. Ten months of reading books on holiness and fear of the Lord left me feeling so unholy, so self-absorbed. With each book I read, I would be convicted of sin, feel utterly repentant and grieved at my inability to change myself. I would read, feel horrible, ask God for forgiveness, forget about it a few days later, read the next book, feel convicted, etc. In just a few days of reading these fiction novels, I have been transformed. What I mean is: encountering the presence of Jesus can, in an instant, bring healing, bring revelation, bring comfort, bring repentance, bring WHATEVER it is that we truly need. I have just been blown away, as I always am, when I encounter the love of Christ in such a way that it sidesteps what I think the real 'issues' are and goes straight to the heart of the matter. The ways that I act out are always rooted in something I am usually unaware of. But, Jesus is aware. Intimately so. And, He loves me so much that He goes right past all the shame I have about sin and touches on the places that need His healing touch so that I have no desire to even act out in the ways that I was. Am I making sense?
There is a time and a place for being convicted of sin. I believe the 10 months of discipleship reading laid the groundwork for Jesus to then just come in and love me into more wholeness. Hosea scribed, "He has torn us, but He will heal us."

In the book of Revelation, an angel says to John, "The bride has made herself ready!" I have often wondered what that meant. How can we, as the bride, make ourselves ready for communion with our Bridegroom? I finally feel like I am getting a picture of what this means. In the last year, I have been actively pursuing more training, more discipline, more teaching. I have been asking God to take inventory of my heart, to shine the light on areas that don't please Him. It has been incredibly painful and uncomfortable-- definitely confusing at times. What I didn't know was that I was preparing myself to meet Him at a deeper place of communion. I was making myself ready to meet Him.  He tore me apart, ripped me open, exposed things I didn't want to deal with, just so that He could then come and love me tenderly in the deepest, most wounded and ugly areas of my heart.  His love for us is so fervently jealous that He comes to burn up everything that hinders love in our lives.  He so desperately wants to 'catch the little foxes that spoil the vines, for our vines have tender grapes'.  Those little foxes, all those little things that we allow to linger-- sins, attitudes, judgments-- spoil the abundance of fruit He wants to grow in our relationship with Him.

I now have about a hundred other Scriptures popping into my mind that relate to all this... I better stop while I'm ahead.

Make yourself ready. Seek Him while He may be found.  Catch the little foxes. Let Him tear you, and then heal you.

Ya, Terminé! I'm Finished!

It's only the minimum, but I finally finished reading the very last book for my discipleship class at Fraternidad Cristiana Amor a Quisqueya!!  We still have about a month left of classes to attend, but yesterday evening I polished off the very last book.  Discipleship class at my church here is a 10 month commitment-- we meet every Saturday evening from 5-7 and receive great teaching from our pastor, Popín.  Within the first 10 weeks of class we are required to read the entire Bible, starting in Matthew and ending with Malachi.  The rest of our 'spare' time is spent reading a minimum of 12 assigned books the pastor has read and picked out for us.  Then we write reports on each one.  For the most part, I really liked his selection, though I was realizing the other day that every single book was written by a man.  I don't believe this was intentional, just interesting. The principles of discipleship aren't sex-related, though I do enjoy hearing a woman's perspective, too.

Anyway, here is a list of the books I had to read and I put an asterisk next to my faves:

1. Causa de una Tirania (this is a book in Spanish about the Dominican dictator Trujillo)
2. Stop Flirting with the Church and Fall in Love with the Family of God-- Joshua Harris
3. A Tale of Three Kings-- Gene Edwards
4. El Martir de Las Catacumbas (only available in Spanish and the author didn't have his name on the book)
5. The Heavenly Man-- Brother Yun *
6. Spiritual Warfare-- Dean Sherman *
7. El Clamor en el Barrio-- Freddie García
8. Not Even a Hint-- Joshua Harris
9. Fear of the Lord-- John Bevere *
10. Undercover-- John Bevere *
11. The Prayer of Jesus-- (can't remember the author's name, but it was my least favorite)
12. The Twelve Transgressions-- Sergio Scataglini *

After reading all these books and taking this class, the overall resounding theme is: I am not my own.  It has been both hard and good to have the Light shine on weak and sinful areas of my character these last 10 months. It has been both frustrating and a relief to know that these areas do not just 'go away' and that I will continually have to go to the Cross with them.  I both hated and loved acknowledging that I, truly, can't do life on my own-- I literally need the Spirit of God to transform me and enable me to do the things my flesh doesn't want to do.  I have discovered just how much I cling to 'religion' (doing godly things without God-- spirit of independence) and reject 'relationship' (humble surrendering to the One who can actually do godly things because He IS God).  Sanctification is a fiery process that I both desire and want to run from.  But as Paul exhorts in 1 Thessalonians 5:19: "Do not put out the Spirit's fire;"  and 4 verses later, "May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through.  May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.  The one who calls you is faithful and he will do it." !!!!

I am so thankful for God's faithfulness to us, the promise that he will do it as we continue to believe in and walk in Christ.  I can't make myself blameless, I can't be perfect, but Christ in me, the hope of glory, CAN and WANTS to as long as I keep myself yoked to Him with a broken and contrite spirit, desiring communion.

Being a disciple is being broken at the feet of Jesus.

Things that make you laugh AFTER the fact

"I have two letters for you: D...R..."

This comment made by my boss a while back was immediately followed by an eruption of laughter.  The laughter erupted from us Americans.  This comment has since become our signature statement whenever something transpires here in the DR-- things that make you go 'hmmm'.  

I had one of those somethings happen just yesterday.

After a 3-day staff retreat where God just blew us open, I dragged my very tired body to work in the morning.  Francisco I don't think even made it out of bed because his bright face never showed up.  Anyway, after sitting there at the school for a bit, I promptly fell asleep.  This never happens to me.  Never.  I can't even fall asleep on airplanes-- and often it takes hours for me to pass out in my own bed!  I was that wiped out.  I somehow jerked myself awake in time to greet a student who dropped by to show me some drawings she had been doing.  After she left, I felt the call of the sandman lulling me back to sleep and I thought-- NO! I must be productive!  I decided it would be a good time to go make photocopies I had put off for too long.  So, I gathered all the materials, locked up the school, hopped in my jeep and drove around town in circles for a good 15 minutes.  The town was packed and there was nowhere to park.  Nowhere.  At this point I had developed a good sized headache and decided it might be best if I just went home and finished sleeping.  On the way, I saw a little photocopy shop I'd never seen before and THERE WAS PARKING OUT FRONT!  I grabbed my books, other sheets of paper and my purse and sauntered into the little store.  The minute I walked in, the girl from behind the counter asked me what I needed.  I said I needed her to photocopy some stuff for me.  *This is one of the reasons I put off getting copies for so long-- you can't just do it yourself and the majority of the time your copies come out looking terrible (not good for an art school)*

She just looked at me and said, "You have to go to the other photocopy place.  We don't have any paper."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!

This wasn't so funny at the time.

I just smiled and thought, "Of course you don't have paper.  What was I thinking?"

Instead of driving circles around town again in search of a copy shop who actually HAS paper, I decided to stick with the original plan and just go home and sleep.

I have two letters for you...

2- Second Encounter

This afternoon on my walk to work, I passed two light- blue and tan uniformed high school girls giggling and gossiping with eachother.  A normal sight.  However when they reached the corner, one of them looked into our yard, ritually crossed herself, kissed her fingers and just kept walking.  I had an inner chuckle thinking about when I was in high school and my friend Kelly would interrupt a conversation to kiss her fingers and touch the roof of her car every time we went through a yellow light on the drive to school or passed a cemetery.  

As I continued my stroll in the spring heat, I pondered this young girl's action, wondering how religious or devoted she really was.  Obviously she was brought up Catholic and had been taught these little rituals of reverence (oh, by the way, we have a shrine to the Virgin Mary in our front yard-- well, the owners do).  Then one of the military guards who sits in front of a rich person's house with a rifle asked me why I was walking on such a hot day.  I smiled, telling him I liked the sun and then I forgot all about the girl.  She came back to mind, however, on my trek back home.  In my mind I started having an imaginary conversation with her.  I asked her why she crossed herself and kissed her fingers.  Her imaginary self told me that she was blessing the Virgin Mary and God and recognizing that a shrine was a place of holiness.  I nodded to her and then shared with her the Scripture about when we believe in Christ, our bodies become temples of the Holy Spirit, so just imagine crossing yourself and kissing your fingers all day long because YOU are that holy place where He dwells!  That's when I gasped.  All of a sudden I had an instant revelation of how much I do not reverence the Holy Spirit who lives inside of me.  I can go a whole day complaining, daydreaming, thinking about Him, asking Him to bless my food, etc, but how often do I take time to stop and recognize His holiness within me? Ew.  I felt like both Peter and Isaiah when, in the presence of holiness, exploded with "I'm not worthy! I'm unclean!" sentiments.  For a split second I was taken into heaven before the throne where all the angels cry 'HOLY!' and the elders throw their crowns.  Powerful.

I often make my living relationship with the Living God a common thing.  I take for granted that I am saved by grace through faith and that I have eternal life.  I often forget that I have the only holy presence that exists inhabiting this earthly frame.  That is His mercy.

I am not sharing this because I feel condemned.  I am sharing this because I was awesomely humbled and, today, fell in love with Him just one more time.

What may have been a mindless ritual, God used to awaken this sleeping bride.