The front door stood wide open and as we walked up, Johnjo hurried to put out his cigarette and hide the evidence. We were back, exactly one week later, just like he asked. And this time, I knew exactly what I was going to say.
A week earlier Mickey, Ernest (our translator), and I met Johnjo, who lives down the street from the church we are doing ministry with this month. A young farmer, Johnjo was out working his small field when we stopped to chat with him. As we talked, he mostly looked at the ground, especially avoiding eye contact when he learned that we worked with Deliverance Church. As the conversation progressed we asked if he went to church anywhere around here and if he was a Christian. Very quietly, never looking up, he whispered in Swahilli,
“I know about Jesus and want to make him the Lord of my life, but I can’t. I’m addicted to cigarettes.”
I stood looking at him dumbfounded, not knowing what to say.
Cigarettes?
He knew about Jesus, believed in Jesus, wanted to follow Jesus, but didn’t think he could?
Because of cigarettes?
I knew that cigarettes aren’t accepted in the Kenyan church. It is very much a taboo to smoke here, especially if you are a Christian. It’s a sin and just isn’t allowed. Period. It’s a cultural thing. I get it. Well, kind of. But really? This man saw his addiction to tobacco as a wall keeping him from knowing Christ. I couldn’t believe it.
As I looked at Johnjo I saw something familiar radiating off of him. Something I know all too well. It was shame. A heavy yoke of guilt.
Ernest looked at me and asked me what I had to say to this man standing in front of me. I froze, overly aware of the weight my words might carry in this moment. My heart was pounding, my breath was short from nerves and I had no idea what to say except, “Jesus doesn’t require you to be perfect to come to him. Do you know that?”
He nodded, still looking at the ground, and asked us to come back in one week. He would be ready to talk then.
I promised that we would be back and told him that we would be praying for him in the meantime. As we retraced our steps down the dirt road I couldn’t help but thinking that maybe I blew it. This guy told me that he WANTED to accept Christ, and I didn’t have much to say. I just gave up and left. But somewhere under the doubt and the frustration, I felt an unexplainable hope. I wasn’t giving up on this.
Over the course of the week I prayed for Johnjo every time I thought of him. And one day, as we were driving home from ministry, a clarity came and I knew exactly what I was going to say. It wasn’t profound. It was just simple truth. Truth that I know so well. I couldn’t believe it hadn’t come to me earlier.
And so as we stood at Johnjo’s door for a second time, watching him hurry over to us after putting out his cigarette, I was ready…
That's how long I'm giving myself to mourn the end of my time in Asia.
Twenty four more hours to be sad, to reminisce, to soak in every last drop of this continent.
The Lord has been so good to me in Southeast Asia. It's hard to put into words what has happened here, because I'm not sure I can even fully wrap my mind around it yet. This has been a season of newness. Of receiving. Of dreaming. Of saying YES to the Lord. Of walking in who I am – who He really created me to be – after being stripped and broken and put back together in Central America. My emotions have been all over the place - I’ve gone from feeling like I’d never be able to pick myself up off of the floor again to beingoverwhelmed with gratitude for all that the Lord was doing in and around me. And through it all, the goodness of the Lord has been my constant reality.
Not only that, but I just adore this place. The people. The food. The sights and smells and sounds. The culture. This was the leg of the race I was most excited for when I signed up, and it has lived up to the hype in my head and heart.
And so I’m mourning. Because the season is coming to an end.
The wind has changed, the leaves have turned, and they are already fluttering to the ground. Tomorrow a new season begins. Tomorrow we fly to Africa.
It’s a change I haven’t let myself dwell on much. I’ve been too busy reveling in the beauty of what I have here. And although today I’m grieving all that I leave behind, when I step on that plane tomorrow it will be with a ready heart. A heart that is expectant of what the Lord will do in Africa. Knowing that I walk into Africa carrying all that the Lord has done and who He has shaped me into during my time in Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam and Malaysia. I’ll walk onto that plane with a heart that is ready to dance into yet a new season, knowing that as good as the past was, I was created for such a time as THIS. I was created to live in the present.
So today I mourn. But tomorrow… tomorrow I dance. All the way to Africa!
For most of us, the World Race is lived in co-ed community. (Because of numbers, our squad does have two all-women teams.) It's been such a cool experience to walk alongside the men on my two teams. They have encouraged me, spoken into my true identity, protected me and shown me what it means to be loved by a man as a sister. Some of my most valuable lessons on the race have been delivered through these men.
Dave, Dan, Nate and Mickey: I love you dearly. Thank you for being godly men who demonstrate the love of Jesus to me minute by minute. You are men of honor, sacrifice, love and life. I am so blessed to call you my brothers.
As cool as it's been to do life with these men, this month offers us something different. Something valuable. Something sweet. Something annointed. Something necessary.
Malaysia offers us a chance to do life and ministry with only women. Otherwise known as:
womanistry.
This month our squad is split into men and women. The men are off in the jungle somewhere doing manly things, and we women are separeated into four teams in two different cities. We are stepping into the experience of living together, doing ministry together, worshiping together, and learning and growing together as sisters in Christ. For those of us who have only been on co-ed teams during the race, it's definitely a new experience. But it's so good!
The two all women teams doing ministry in Penang
This month is also different for me in another way. While we were in Cambodia my squad leaders asked if I would lead one of the all women teams this month. I accepted, and so I've been getting my heart and mind ready to step into this new position of leadership. I've been beside myself with excitement as this month approached. I've been so anxious to do life with the women on my team! But as my team and I sat in our bedroom the first night talking about our hopes and visions for the month I heard this sentiment multiple times:
"This month is important because I want to learn to connect with women better. I don't have a lot of female friends and I just have never enjoyed being around a bunch of girls."
The expressions of the statement varied, but the root was the same: I find it hard to connect with women.
A couple of days later I was talking with one of my teammates about this and asked her why she thought this was a difficulty for her and others on our team. Her response made my heart sink:
"Girls are just mean."
It's true isn't it? Isn't that the picture our society has accepted as truth about women? Women are:
catty
dramatic
high maintenance
backstabbing
bitchy
cunning
And somewhere along the way, even WEas women have bought into this mindset. We've accepted it as truth that other women are not to be trusted. That we're not safe in those relationships. That women can't do life together without high drama.
Enough!!!
What society tells us about women is a lie.
It just is.
It's only when we believe the lie that it starts to become true.
So I'm standing and saying that I will choose to speak truth about women. Truth about who we were created to be. Truth about how the Father sees us. Truth about what's in our hearts, even if sometimes we don't see it in ourselves yet.
So fellow womankind, listen up. Here's what your Father in heaven says about you:
You are precious.
You are worth far more than rubies.
You hold dignity.
You are majestic.
You are strong.
You are noble.
You are beautiful.
You are beloved.
You are delightful.
You have a voice.
You have the power to bring life.
Women, there is something about us that other women need.
And the world needs it too.
And that's why this month is so exciting for me. I get to spend time with and walk alongside one of the Lord's most beautiful creations: womankind.
For my team and I this is going to be a month full of speaking life into each other. Of choosing each other. Of preferring each other. Of honoring each other. Of pressing in to each other. Of saying yes to who we are as women. Of true femininity. And it's going to be good.
Kelly, Rachel, Kat, Taralah, Jaime, Courtney and Laura, you are deeply loved.
I am so blessed to be FULLY FUNDED for the World Race! Thank you so much for giving, praying and supporting me. In doing so you have become a part of this journey. Thank you for your faithfulness. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!
There are still several people on my squad that are in DESPERATE NEED of funding. If these people are not fully funded in the next week they will be sent home and will not continue to Africa with us.
The people you'll read about below aren't just people - they are my dear friends, my teammates, my brothers and sisters. We are walking in this together, and the Lord has used them not only to bless the nations, but also to bless me deeply. Life on the field wouldn't be the same without them.
Our lives are about intersections. This is one of them. Their lives have intersected with mine, just as yours has. And now your life can intersect with another person that I love dearly. By blessing them you are blessing me.
Below is a video/blog our amazing squad leaders made. PLEASE watch, read, and consider how you can help B-squad stay on the field TOGETHER. We are saying that the jig is up - we are believing for miraculous provision. Will you be part of that miracle?
Thank you - I love you!
Disclaimer: If you choose to watch the video above, you are making the choice to open your heart and ask yourself, "What can I do to help?" This may require a little sacrifice and we have no way of keeping you accountable but we ask that you give generously.. Thank-you and Enjoy!
Half way has come and gone...
Adventures have been lived...
Relationships have given us purpose...
The Spirit has sent us for whirlwinds...
The Father has prepared the way for us...
Worship has left us undignified before God...
BUT...
WE NEED YOUR HELP!!!
This is a cry out for support!!!
B-Squad has stood together through so much and we know that we are to finish this journey together. Every member serves as a piece to the Kingdom Bringing, Life Altering, Spirit Breathing, Love Giving and Good News Preaching that this journey and our squad have to offer.
We have had the opportunity to play with toothless kids, witness miracles, see people come to know Jesus, help each other become closer in our own walks, offer our bodies to grueling physical labor, laugh with people we have come to love but the following people need your help to continue and finish the Race...
Read their blogs and choose to support and fight for them! The amount is how much they have left to raise.
I'm not really sure how to describe exactly where I am right now. It's a good place. A new place. A big place. I think the easiest way to let you in to what I'm experiening is to just let you see a page from my heart - a peek into my journal.
3-27-12
Day 172
Lord, I'm sitting in a coffee shop in VIETNAM right now. Last night I sat in a dirty alleyway on a little metal chair sipping a fresh fruit smoothie from a street cart and chatting with girls I love. It's hard to wrap my mind around. I'm just sitting here overwhelemed-
by this life I'm living
by your love for me
by the transformation I'm expereincing
by your love for the nations
by how broken the world is
by how you use broken people to heal your broken world
by the memories of the last six months
by the thought of the five months ahead
by the dreams you're placing in my heart
by the knowledge that those dreams are impossible without you
by the weight of your spirit and your love
by your very heart
Many times this month I've suddenly had to fight off tears that seem to come out of nowhere. They're not tears of saddness. Not tears of joy, exactly. They are the tears of a daughter just trying to grasp and hold on to and sort through everything you've given me. I'm realizing I can't really understand it all, I can't hold it in my hands or my brain, so I just have to sit and rest in it. At random moments I'm hit by the weight of it and my chest gets tight and tears prick the back of my eyes and all I can do is take this giant breath and rest in you. And it's overwhelming. But it's so good. Thank you for meeting me and speaking to me this month - in a coffee shop, in an alleyway, on the shores of the South China Sea, in my bedroom, in an orphanage, in the middle of a crowded street, on the back of a moto... thank you for overwhelming me. Because you are nothing less than overwhelming.
So that's where I am. In this place of abundance. Of being totally overwhelmed by the goodness of the Lord and all that He is calling me into. I've recieved a lot this month. Words, dreams, pushing and pulling and being romanced by the heart of the Father. Vietnam has been a really special pit stop in my relationship with the Lord. And I'm so thankful to be so overwhelmed.
It can be hard sometimes to feel beautiful on the Race.
I don't have a lot of clothes in my pack, and the ones I do have aren't exactly what I would wear at home. My selection of accessories and makeup and hair tools and products are pretty slim.
I'm sweaty a lot of the time. Gym shorts have now become an acceptable item of clothing to wear outside of the gym. Makeup only happens sometimes. My "dressy" shoes are a pair of Toms and my "cute" shirt is a black tank top. My stretchy headbands have become my best friends.
And while I've learned so much about not tying the things I wear or how I fix my hair to my identity, there are days where I just long to feel normal. I want to put on a cute dress or an outfit that makes me feel spectacular and curl my hair and rock a pair of great boots! It doesn't make me who I am, but I like fashion and fixing my hair and feeling pretty. Beauty is fun for me, and I'm ok with that!
So I've admittedly been thinking a lot about how I look and what I wear lately because I've been frustrated by my lack of options. But yesterday I spent the morning with some women who gave me a new perspective on beauty.
As soon as I laid eyes on them they took my breath away. They were stunning.
Every line told a story. Every wrinkle an experience, every spot, a year lived.
Their eyes held wisdom and knowledge and experience and life and love and stories beyond what my mind can comprehend at my age.
We couldn't communicate with words, but we sat together and laughed and held hands, smiled and took in the world. I told them over and over how beautiful they were. I took their photos and showed them the images - "you are so beautiful!" They just laughed at me.
And they are beautiful. Not the kind of beautiful you get out of a bottle or off of a hanger. The kind of beautiful that runs deep. That you can only earn by living and loving and doing life for a long time. Their beauty transcends culture and current trends. It's in their very being.
As I hugged them goodbye it was with a renewed spirit and a refreshed perspective. They have the kind of beauty that I want. I want beauty that radiates from my heart and my spirit. What I have in my pack doesn't matter so much.
(But that's not gonna stop me from rocking those boots when I get home!) :)
Oh you know.... just the HALFWAY mark of the World Race!
It's true. There are a few different ways to "measure" half way, but today is halfway through March - halfway through our sixth month of ministry. So we're calling official. The Race is halfway over.
It's hard to believe. But then again it's not. Truthfully, I feel like I'm living in this very strange timewarp. Like I just left Indy yesterday, but like I've been gone forever. Like the end is so far away, but it will be here in a flash.
Trying to reflect on and process and make sense of the time just gets my mind and my heart all twisted up, and inevitably I end up either mourning the time that's behind me already or wishing away the days ahead. So I'm not going to try to make sense of right now. I'm just saying yes. Yes to where I've been. Yes to what's in front of me. And most importantly, yes to today.
My words can't do justice describing what happens in my heart when I think of the ways you've joined me on this journey. I'm humbled. I'm giddy. I'm incredibly thankful.
For giving financially.
For praying.
For sending ecouraging words.
For dropping everything for a Skype date.
For loving me from far away.
For reading my stories from across the world.
Thank you. Thank you.Thank you.
Here are some highlights of the first 160 days of my journey on this crazy thing called The World Race.
To keep my heart guarded. After having my heart smashed to pieces by the children I lived with in Guatemala and their stories, I just didn’t want to let my heart be that soft again. I wasn’t sure I could endure it ten more times.
And so for months, there’s been a careful measure of separation between my heart and those I serve.
But then I got to Cambodia.
And I looked in his eyes.
And saw her innocence.
And his smile.
And her heart.
And her joy.
And I melted.
And even though I spent much of the month resisting in my heart, they wore me down. I let them in.
And as I was covered with hugs and kisses that last day, my heart sank. Because here I was with a hurting heart, saying hello to a hard goodbye. Again.
As I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other and walk away, I stole a glance over my shoulder.
And saw bright eyes, big smiles, little hands still waving, and the love of the Father absolutely covering them.
And with their cheerful goodbyes ringing in my ears and hot tears stinging my eyes, I took a deep breath and realized... it's worth it. If opening my heart means experiencing pain, I still say yes. I say yes because I can't love someone well if I keep a wall up. And if I can't love people well, why am I here?
In some ways, our team is “roughing it” more this month than the rest of the Race so far.
We don’t have running water.
The water we use for bathing, washing and even some cooking comes from a pond out our backdoor.
We only have a couple hours of unpredictable generator power each evening,.
We’re kind of out in the middle of nowhere.
The nearest market where we can buy food is 45 minutes away, and our transportation is a homemade Tuk Tuk.
And it’s HOT. Really, really hot.
The great thing about this month, though, is that our circumstances have fostered an incredible environment for our team to grow closer. With our power situation, we are sparing in using our electronics, because charging them is an ordeal, and never guaranteed. Our entertainment options are kind of limited. And at the end of the day, most of our options like reading or playing cards fade with the sunlight. We do have one solar generated light that casts a dim glow throughout one room of our choosing, but many nights we’ve gone without it – whether to save us from the onslaught of bugs or because the battery pack failed. And so we’re left with just each other and our imaginations.
Some of my favorite evenings this month have been spent in total darkness. Scattered around the room in hammocks, laying on the floor or sitting in chairs, we do something kind of crazy. We just start talking to each other. And not the idle chatter that accompanies work or play. We chat all day as we dig holes and cut vegetables for our meal and sit around the table to eat. But this is different.
It’s purposeful.
And focused.
There aren’t any distractions – not even anything else to look around at.
And so with our sense of sight turned off, we really tune in to what other people are saying. And respond. And enter into this mode of intimacy and intentionality that our culture of distractions most often allows us to escape.
It’s not always serious conversation. In fact, a lot of the time it’s hilarious, and we spend as much time laughing as we do talking. We play games too, ones that only require talking like, “Password” and “What’s Yours Like?” It’s quality time at its finest. And it’s so fun.
Our time spent in the dark has been a time of discovery.
When is the last time you shut everything off and just spent time with people? It’s not something that happens that often in our American lifestyles – the distractions are too attractive. Even when we’re with people, we have TV’s, cell phones, computers, and music to compliment our company.
Valuing people over things is something I've talked a lot about and valued for a long time, but it wasn’t until I was actually stripped of those things that I realized how different it can really be when your sole focus is on people.
Try it.
No, really. You don't have to be in the middle of a rice field in Cambodia to deepen your conversations with others. Get some people you love together. For just thirty minutes, eliminate all distractions. Shut off your TV, music, phone, maybe even the lights. And just have a conversation. Really tune in to what other people are saying. And just see what a difference the darkness makes.
Here are a few things various internet travel sites say about Poipet, Cambodia:
Its name rhymes with “toilet” which is appropriate, given the way the city smells and what it has to offer.
A gritty border town, Poipet hosts a bewildering array of touts, beggars, thieves and dodgy casinos, which all contrive to separate money from the unwary.
Spending time in Poipet involves being hassled, scammed and frustrated.
Any visitor should explore Poipet with the expectation of spending more than reasonable and also of losing the contents of his pockets.
Awesome. Right?
Yeah, that’s what we thought too when our team found out THAT’S where we’d be spending the month of February doing ministry. A whole month in a place whose nickname is Toilet?! COME. ON. !!!!! That WOULD happen to us. The whole week before arriving we made mocking and sarcastic comments about how great our month in “Toilet Town” would be. Never technically complaining, but clearly our minds were made up about our home for the month.
The day we headed to our ministry site, we got in a van and followed our contact to our location. To our surprise, 20 miles before reaching Poi Pet, we turned left. Down a dirt road. We laughed that we must be taking a short cut to the city. But the dirt road went on. And on. And on. With each passing minute, our nervous laughter and the jokes increased as we looked out the window incredulously… we were being led into the middle of freaking nowhere.
We rolled up and piled out at the small house we’d be staying in. No electricity. No running water. And nothing else in sight. Um, what happened to Poipet? Apparently, we’d been relieved of spending our month in Toilet Town.
Our set up at our ministry site has actually been a huge blessing. We’ve had great quality time as a team and a lot of rest, both of which we were in desperate need of after last month. It’s been an adventure, and one we’ve greatly enjoyed. But after a week of eating only rice, eggs and potatoes (which we’ve learned to get creative with and cook very well, in my opinion) having no entertainment beyond ourselves, our books and a couple of games, and seeing the same surroundings day after day, we were ready for a change.
And suddenly, Toilet Town wasn’t sounding so bad.
In fact, we eagerly anticipated the weekend and celebrated when our contact suggested we should go to Poipet for the weekend and even stay the night!
We were beside ourselves.
Beggars, thieves and casinos? Scamming, hassling and frustration? Forget that. All we could think about were restaurants, cold drinks and ice cream! Air conditioning, lights and taxis!
Toilet Town? More like heaven, thank you very much.
So last Saturday morning we grabbed our daypacks and eagerly crammed onto our property’s homemade Tuk Tuk to make the journey back down the dirt road to Poipet.
Our overnight stay was as glorious as we’d imagined it to be. Air conditioning and real beds, all the coke we could drink, burgers and fries for dinner, and a grocery store that sold peanut butter. Thank you, Jesus!
As we rattled along on the ride back home, I couldn’t help but smile to myself and thank the Lord for how He changes our hearts. It’s pretty comical how drastically our view of Poipet changed with our circumstances. Hearts that were grumbling about having to spend a month in a seedy border town now leap for joy at the very thought of civilization. What we once imagined to be our nightmare has become our getaway.
The Race tends to do that. Turn our perspective upside down. Our adventures in Toilet Town are just a small glimpse of a much bigger heart change that is happening in me. It’s a work in progress. And it’s beautiful.
