Hope in You

You came in to a world that chose to ignore you and despise

A world choosing self, believing lies, and refusing to give you even a tithe

Yet you looked right through us and saw our brokenness, and we saw compassion in your eyes.

You left it all and came when we did not deserve

We fought over worldly status, but you abandoned your throne and came to serve

I don’t deserve your service, but somehow still I have the nerve to live a life of self-service

You claimed to be the I AM and then,

You walked on water, went to hell and came back again

I was alone in the desert of night, wasting away, thirst cutting my soul like a knife

You came to me, my light, my living water, bringing me out of death to life.

I aimed to follow you; yet my intentions were thin, full of meaningless attempts to cover up my sin

I heard you calling out to me, telling me of hope from above

And I again turned from you, hiding among the rocks of despair, but still hungry, desperate, and craving for your love.

You came to me, like a dove from heaven, saying you were the door and the only way in.

You took my shame, took my pain, took my sinful name-replaced it with your name, and said I am enough.

You Resuscitated me. Rejuvenated me. I’m Rescued and Resurrected. You brought me back to life. You are the only way, the only truth, and the true meaning to life.

Place of Peace

“I’ve been through the wasteland and it’s only a mile ago from here.“*

Recently I had the opportunity to leave home behind and venture southwest of Nairobi into land traditionally inhabited by Maasai. It is a short distance yet one that can feel of complete isolation. Given the increase of temperatures, dryness, and a myriad of cattle and other obstacles encountered along the rugged road, the journey can be intense. It’s a road of personalized specific location, yet one we all travel.

“And now it’s a memory, but it’s only a smile ago from here.”*

After traveling the path of pitfalls and potholes a slight incline in the road suddenly clears opening up into what at first appears to be a dusty little civilization. At first glance the tiny red particles clinging to all living things give the illusion of decay, however, upon clearing the vision, a broken down sign reading Kiserian can be seen.

Kiserian in Maasai language means “place of peace.”

Living in the desert is not so much about living independently as it is about learning dependency. A journey to learn dependency upon a life sustaining source.

Treks into dryness can be full of extreme hardships. The desert, with its abrasive and biting methods, has a way of humbling and stripping away at our core. Showing our perceived strengths as the mirages they truly are. A sojourner in barren lands seeks rest, life giving water, and ultimately a place of peace.

The journey is often one of extreme hardships, but in learning dependency upon a life sustaining source, it is not a journey of waste leading to death. Perhaps this was in part why the Israelites needed to spend so long in the desert. They stood on their metaphorical mountain top having seen the the awesomeness of God yet still seemed to miss the deeper more personal connection He offered. Mountain top experiences are truly uplifting and inspiring but many times it’s in the shadowed valleys of dryness and isolation where deeper dependency and growth are learned.

Whether or not we’re on top of a mountain or huddled in the valley of shadows, the place of peace is near. It’s only a mile or so away. Our lasting Kiserian journeys to a tree and exits an empty cave.

“Lead me to the cross
Where Your love poured out
Bring me to my knees
Lord I lay me down
Rid me of myself
I belong to You
Lead me, lead me to the cross”**

*Wasteland by Dakota Motor Company

** Lead Me to the Cross by Hillsong United

 

 

There is a Time

Swirling dust, dry cough

Dryness choking life away.

Brown attacking all things green until nothing wants to stay.

***

Darkness arrives, fear invades

An ambush on life by the wolf.

Violent aggression of demonic proportions released in our compound and self.

***

Crisping leaves, vibrance dies

Dismal life to live.

Receding waters death abounds there’s nothing left to give.

***

Dusty lines, destructive words

Two kings shout toe to toe.

Anxiety, hoarding, fear destroying, running battles keeping heads down low.

***

God is great and God is good

Yet precious life is lost.

When will we realize he’s our only hope, he’s already paid the cost?

***

Expanding air, flowing electrons

Lightning strikes the ground.

Rolling thunder filling all senses, the earth is screaming out loud.

***

Pressure builds, tensions rise

The ballot is once more cast.

Hope is blurred by drops of blood dripping much too fast.

***

Dampness materializes, drops accumulate

The rains have come with force.

Falling wetness coming daily creating a new course.

***

Swelling reservoirs, seceding lands

Opposing forces throughout the republic.

Green floods forth, giving hope for today, and an ulcer to the stomach.

***

God is great and God is good

Yet precious life is lost.

When will we realize he’s our only hope, he’s already paid the cost?

***

From bilateral to mono, calm to chaotic, a new season we’re hoping for.

From life to death, and death to life, the Sustainer of Hope we cry for.

 

 

I Need a Breakdown

Time hung motionless in mid-air, while barreling onward at the same time. Confusion cleared as clarity cascaded upon the scene. To everyone present, it was obvious that a collision was in process. Gasps of breath by all involved as metal collided with metal. The slamming of one vehicle into another. It was a breakdown of all things harmonious.

Adrenaline coursed, while a crowd gathered and pushed all participants towards unhealthy confrontation. Strangers and friends stepped out to console. Onlookers gawked, emotions ran high, police arrived, and vehicles limped to the side of the highway. Police reports, cultural differences, and complicated conversations. It was a breakdown of all things comfortable.

“Hello this is roadside services.”

“Yes, I need a tow truck”

“Oh, you need a breakdown?”

“No. I’ve already had one. I need a tow truck.”

“So are you in need of a breakdown?”

“I have a breakdown. I need a tow truck.”

“Do you have a breakdown already, or do you need one?

“I’ve had a breakdown and am in need of a tow truck to tow my car.”

“So you would like us to send you a breakdown?”

“You’re giving me a breakdown. I need a tow truck.”

“Oh, alright. I’ll give you a breakdown to tow your car.”

“What?”

Apparently, in Kenyan English a “breakdown” is a tow truck. Which would have been good to know before my breakdown. And so, after much anticipation, and in sincere thankfulness, I received my breakdown.

So many lessons one could pull from this incident.

“…give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” 1 Thessalonians 5:18

 

Don’t Put Stickers On The Cat

 

Do you ever see what you’re saying? I mean really stop and soak in the things that come out of your mouth, then pause and reflect upon what you’ve just said? I’m not entirely sure what this communicates about myself, however in the past week I’ve heard unusual phrases uttered, such as “Don’t put stickers on the cat.” bursting forth from my mouth. It seems common sense to me that one should not put sticky adhesive things all over a hairy creature, yet those were the words I heard myself say. I can concede that curiosity was the motivating force behind the sticker scenario, but what about this phrase?

“Don’t jump on your brother’s head.”

And how many times must it be said before the message is understood? Apparently, my attempts to leave a lasting impression are not readily grasped. Ok, I’ll admit, the jumping was probably more about curiosity again. Or perhaps, “Don’t put the diaper pail on your head. It’s not a helmet.” Or “Don’t stretch out your brother’s underwear. Get it off your head.”  Or “Don’t put the lollipop back in your mouth.” after it fell sticky side down in the ant infested dust. And then there’s yesterday’s fun little exchange, “Don’t talk about poop in public.” Michael’s retort, in much too loud of a voice was, “But Papa. You’re talking about poop right now.” We were standing in the middle of the grocery store with a plethora of people around us watching out of either curiosity or some strange sense of humor. Or both.

As I hear what I’m saying, I see what I’m communicating. Naturally, my intentions are to instruct and keep the house from falling apart, but I’m not sure my intentions are as visible as I think. Of course if one should fail to notice a pattern there is always evidence of the sickening realization that the message was misinterpreted when you hear your own words boomerang upon you or others.

“Joshua. The Bible says to listen to your elders. I’m your elder. So don’t move around so much. And don’t take my pillow. And don’t keep pulling the blanket.”

See the theme? At least Michael got a little rationale woven into the message, right? He took the theme “Don’t” that I provided, and polished it with a little biblical wording. Given his tone and delivery I find it hard to believe that he was truly trying to better his brother with instruction on the proper way to go to sleep. Furthermore, I seriously doubt the two-year old learned anything other than “don’t” from that little interaction. All the right wording does nothing to change the motives that lie underneath the surface.

“But what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this defiles a person.” Matthew 15:18

“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” Psalm 51:10

Vision Through Dust

Although only a passerby it was evident that life in this place of dust was wrestling for survival. Survival from sickness. Survival from suffering. Survival from danger. Survival from trappings of common conveniences. Perhaps even survival from the anxieties and burdens we layer upon ourselves like fine dust. Yet through this reddish-brown residue covering every aspect of life, was transparency.

Passing by town after town, all with similar struggles and lengthy Maasai names, it occurred to me that the challenges and sacrifices one makes entering into this land as an outsider were not as great as I once thought. Living in the shadow of Kilimanjaro no doubt brings many challenging transitions from one opportunity of living to another, however, the joy that springs forth is fulfilling and freeing. Extended vision upon dust misses the grandeur of the mountain behind.

David Livingston said:

“People talk of the sacrifice I have made in spending so much of my life in Africa. Can that be called a sacrifice which is simply paid back as a small part of a great debt owing to our God, which we can never repay? Is that a sacrifice which brings its own blest reward in healthful activity, the consciousness of doing good, peace of mind, and a bright hope of a glorious destiny hereafter? Away with the word in such a view and with such a thought! It is emphatically no sacrifice. Say rather it is a privilege. Anxiety, sickness, suffering, or danger now and then with a foregoing of the common conveniences and charities of this life, may make us pause and cause the spirit to waver and the soul to sink; but let this only be for a moment. All these are nothing when compared with the glory which shall be revealed in and for us. I never made a sacrifice.” ***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*** (Cited in Samuel Zwemer, “The Glory of the Impossible” in Perspectives on the World Christian Movement, Ralph Winter and Stephen Hawthorne, eds. 1981.

Not The Christmas Christmas

“It’s the real Christmas. Not the Christmas Christmas.” Said Michael excitedly upon finding a book for Benjamin to read to him about the first Christmas.

Calculations are taken. Calendars are rearranged. Checklists are made. And the cramming of grades, cookies, and ideas begin. Yes, it’s the time of the year when words like good and tidings go together without people looking at you strange. Family traditions are upheld, new traditions are forged, twice as much food is consumed, and pop culture takes a break from the norm. It can be a wonderful time to press pause and reflect upon what really matters most. Yet, sometimes it feels like we’re merely moving pieces of our lives around trying to stay one step ahead, in preparation for the next event. When it feels like we are merely ticking off boxes in a checklist of activities, events, and productions it can be easy to loose focus on the plot.

When told that we would be putting Christmas decorations up Benjamin excitedly exclaimed that he would make a Christmas decoration out of Lego blocks.

Either he is confused over the time of year it is or else he really gets what it’s all about.

To Follow

 

Benjamin read the sign and questioned whether or not this was wise but after being assured by the guide, he followed. What once was beautiful green grass had turned to a dirty brown path from all the followers.

Some of us have been taught to disregard established signs and encouraged to make our own paths. Others of us are taught to always obey them in spite of personal thoughts that may differ. Still others are taught to differentiate, going back and forth, based on an intricate internal system of ethics. And each of us grows up thinking the way of life around us is normal.

I’m sure the migratory creatures of the world never question why they are compelled to propel themselves in front of the waiting crocodile. Going with the herd often feels wisest regardless of where they are going. Sometimes following for the sake of following is not right. Although the boys are growing up in a transitional tribe where normal is a mix of locations, cultures, and the typical state or condition of things is as solid as liquid, they are not blind followers. Like crossing zebra and wildebeest they do not question the moments of chaos and obstacles that may arise in their path. Chaos and obstacles are normal. However, unlike the seemingly blind migratory creatures, we can question to make sure we are not flinging ourselves in front of metaphorical crocodiles. Even so, being a follower can be costly.

Following through life’s rapids, magically appearing obstacles, and plummeting waterfalls are never fun. However, all are navigable with the right guide. When you know you’re following a purpose and headed in the right direction the departures and river crossings of life are merely normal. And as hard as it is to step away from the herd mentality, it can be done.

It’s been said that a smooth stone has endured many tumbles in order to be considered smooth. There are times when this is exactly how we feel our lives are developing. Our paths are naturally full of trials and obstacles, but it is in the chaos of the moment that our character stands to make the decision of which path to follow. Which guide we choose. The path may be narrow. The path may be wide. However, unlike the animal kingdom, we have a say in which path to follow. But without a purposeful end in sight it is nothing but a foray into the heart of darkness.

Outline of a Family

 

A seed was planted many years ago

An immature thought covered in naivete

Roads diverged, paths crossed

Time passed, events unfolded

Marriage began, maturation multiplied

 

The metaphorical bun was eaten

We cried out to God for a revelation

Show me what to do

God protected and sent you

A “son of my right hand”-Benjamin- came forth

Joy filled hearts, sanctity of life

 

Time passed, events unfolded

The ground opened, radiation flowed

We cried out to God for a revelation

Show me what to do

God protected and sent you

A little MAN “who is like God”-Michael- marched forth

Joy filled hearts, sanctity of life

Time passed, events unfolded

God shook us, migrated our lives

The dormant seed began to awaken

Planted before families combined

Nurtured enough to sustain

 

Ten years along an idea took shape

Discussions, prayer, lunch dates

We cried out to God for a revelation

Show me what to do

 

Paper pregnant, shifting lives

A life with a non-traditional beginning

God’s hands around you in warmth and protection

God protected and sent you

Joy filled hearts, sanctity of life

“God is salvation”, Joshua

“God will be with you wherever you go*”

Three lives intertwined with two

“A cord of three strands is not quickly broken**”

And life began anew

 

“Our God is a God who saves…Let God arise… His love reigns now and forever.” -Let God Arise by Chris Tomlin

 

* Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.”-Joshua 1:9

** Ecclesiastes 4:12

 

 

 

 

 

The Middle

“Somewhere between who I am and who I use to be. Somewhere in the middle you’ll find me.”

Sometimes the details seem fuzzy. Sometimes the words are vague. Yet somehow we know there is depth in the message regardless of the surrounding haze. The word carries power. So it was when I received a text message from Jacinta. Although details wallowed in murkiness the message rang out loud and clear. I had just seen her late Friday afternoon as she left my house having spent the day talking, singing, and cleaning. She had been in a particularly jovial mood and Joshua was happy to be held by her and dance around in delight. She had laughed at Joshua’s attempts for food and as always we spoke of several topics about God’s guidance and compassion. As so often I do I uttered the words “take care” as she left. Words intended to convey a sentiment of friendliness and support.

When the text came through mid afternoon on Sunday, I had to read it several times to grasp specific meaning or nuances of the words. When money is involved, and there is always a shortage of it, a text message can be quite concise. Straining to make sense of the message, the day seemed to slow while thoughts intensified their swirling. These could not be the words of the same lady who entered our house and lives each week. The author of the text seemed to be distant from the happiness I had last seen surrounding Jacinta. I checked with three people to make sure I was reading it correctly. Sometimes we can read emotions into words that were not intended. My attempts to make sense of the senseless fell in vain. Had her phone been stolen? Was this even her? There are plenty of cons throughout Nairobi these days and identity theft is a common pursuit by many. While helping was what my heart leapt towards, caution was how my hand responded. What do you say and how, or to what degree, do you help in a situation where life and death are part of the equation? In talking to Jacinta she told me through tears of how her son and oldest daughter had been kidnapped on their way home from school. Now they, along with 12 other children, were being held for ransom. Death was promised if payment was not met.

“Somewhere between my heart and my hand. Somewhere between my faith and my plans. Somewhere between the safety of the boat and the crashing waves…Somewhere in the middle you’ll find me.”

Raw bi-polar emotions, sickening churning stomachs, with heightened and frayed nerves can not even begin to do justice to my feelings, let alone those of a mother whose children have been kidnapped. Flurries of phone calls, prayer chains passionate in pursuit, faith in a Savior that is unwavering, yet desperately holding onto a hope that His will is your will. When you’re in the middle of selling your worldly possessions, inherited family land, and begging anyone who will listen for money, desperation starts to become a deafening voice. I’m sure that words of comfort without visible action can seem meaningless. Perhaps my words of “I’m praying” were easier to swallow. Talking with a mother the day payment is due, yet who is still desperately searching and pleading for money to save her children, is not an easy place to be.

“Just how close can I get, Lord, to my surrender without losing all control?” 

“Fearless warriors in a picket fence, reckless abandon wrapped in common sense. Deep water faith in the shallow end and we are caught in the middle.”

Finding myself stuck in the middle of a mother and her kidnapped children you can’t help but hear the heart crying out in pained compassion. In a twisted, albeit enlightening, moment of character development, I found myself stepping in to teach a class about how our actions, the fruit of our beliefs, identify and define us. Explaining how our character ultimately leads to our behavior, and our behavior will point either towards the true Word that heals and cleanses our hearts or else it will point to self-absorption, I wrestled not only with my words but also my deeds. Saying you love your neighbor and actually loving your neighbor are not the same.

How often do we rationalize our positions digging deep into ourselves? Do we wash our hands stepping away when the road in front of us seems more than we can bear? Talking with Jacinta it was clear that in spite of the wretched and inhumane circumstances of the place she now found herself, she continued to stand on the word of God. Her understanding that God had not left her side held fast. There are and will be times when we are all caught in the middle, “Between the darkness and the light.” It is not our words that will be weighed. Only where we stand.

“With eyes wide open to the differences, the god we want and the God who is. But will we trade our dreams for His? Or are we caught in the middle?”

***

Afterward:

All 14 children were released, including both of Jacinta’s, after a week in captivity. Please pray for her children and family as they continue to undergo counseling for the psychological trauma they have survived. The effects of being caught in the middle run deep and long.

 

All quotes in italics from:

—Somewhere in the Middle by Casting Crowns on their album “The Altar And The Door”