I don’t know about you, but for me, it’s been “one of those weeks.” One of those weeks that you wish ended as quick as it came; but you know it’s not going to. One of those weeks that leave you crawling in your bed on Monday night weeping because it’s not even close to being over. One of those weeks that leave you fearful of Tuesday just wondering how on earth you’re going to get through. One of those weeks that leave you in time with God saying, “remind me that You’re faitful, don’t let me forget it, I’m desperate for it.” Yeah… I’ve had one of those weeks & it’s only Tuesday.
I’ve been wanting to update for quite a while, but for some unapparent reason I haven’t, I haven’t even written in my journal since September, or even consistently in about a year. That’s so odd for me… but somehow this “week”, (I say “week” because it’s only Tuesday) has led me here, typing again, trying my very best to get every ounce of what I’m feeling & what life is leaving me – onto this thing I call a “blog.”
For some reason I find it easier to write when things aren’t going as I’ve hoped, or when things just leave me weeping in my bed at 11:30 Monday night wishing tomorrow was some other day other than only Tuesday…
Monday was quite a day, I slowly made my way to the van that my Dad & my sister were in, my sister & I were going to be dropped off at my cousin’s house for Lunch like we are everyday. I could tell as soon as I got into the van that something was wrong – my Dad has somehow become a more tender man in the past few years than what I ever thought was possible, & if you know my dad then you know that “tender” was never an easy word to use to describe him, but it’s become harder for him to hide what he’s feeling…. tears come easier & emotions aren’t as easily veiled anymore. As we were driving he looked over at Britt & I & said, “Uncle Donald died. He was in the Hospital, he was very sick & they let him go home Sunday & Sunday night he died in his sleep.” & I just sat there, looking at him repeatedly, wondering if what he said was really true. It was. The only words that seemed to leave my mouth were, “Uncle Donald?” “What was wrong?” “Are we going to the funeral?” “How’s everyone taking it?” “I don’t even know what to think.”
I really didn’t know what to think…. Britt & Uncle Donald, well he’s was our Great Uncle, & him & Britt had gotten close over the past few years. Somehow he seemed like an older, man, version of Britt. They both we’re the joksters, Britt being 16 & him being in his 80′s, they were decades apart but yet extremely close. But for me… Uncle Donald was the man who I saw when I went to Cleveland to visit my Dad’s side of the family, & the man who always made me laugh & told me he loved me even though we didn’t know eachother well. He was the man who just last week I found myself thinking, “I want to visit Uncle Donald & get to know him better.” It tears me up that I didn’t get that chance… because he was always that man that I longed to know, I never got to see him often, but he was one of those men whose child-like spirit was more than evident, & whose love for God was obvious. I am thankful for having him as a part of my life… but it’s more like the memories of seeing him at my Great-Grandma’s 100+ birthday parties instead of sitting with him on a bench in the park discussing our lives. My memories of him can make me laugh, but the memories I don’t have of him make me weep. And I did; I have wept.
I don’t know why but for some reason our car & van seemed to be the place where all “bad news” was spilt yesterday. Britt & I were getting picked up from school, by our Mom this time to go home. & she mentioned Uncle Donald knowing that Dad had told us about him. & then she said, “Did he tell you about your Great Uncle Bob?” & my heart sank. Uncle Bob is to me, what Uncle Donald was to Britt. I got fearful. & I quickly said, “no! What about Uncle Bob?” & she said, “Grandma (my Dad’s Mom, Uncle Donald & Bob’s sister) said he didn’t want you to know, he didn’t even know your Dad knew.” And Britt looked at her & said, “You can mention him & then not tell us what’s going on!” I quickly agreed. And she said, “Teresa, he especially didn’t want you knowing, that’s what Grandma said, she knows how close you two are.” And she took a deep breath & said, “Uncle Bob has cancer. I guess he’s had it for quite some time & hasn’t wanted anyone to know, but he’s not doing well at all right now.” Tears crept into my eyes… without me wanting them there.
Uncle Bob is 85 years old & doesn’t look a day over 50 – my Dad’s side of the family is known for that! If you’ve ever watched “The Cosby Show” my sister & I have giggled over it for years, but he reminds us so much of the man who plays Bill Cosby’s dad. This man has an old soul, & yet knows how to connect with someone as young as me. This is the man who walks in the room & everyone is eager to talk to. He’s the one, who, like his brother Donald, allows God to be so evident in him. He’s the man who calls me unexpectedly & asks me a million questions about my life. He’s the man who Britt & I have a picture with in our Kitchen & I look at it quite frequently saying “I want to go to Chicago to see Bob.” Honestly, he’s the man who resembles the type of man that I’d want to be married to someday. I love the fact that he’s in my life.
So, this “week” has left me in whirlwind… of death, cancer, ‘wish I had’s', & …. doctor visits.
Yes, so, unfortunately, in the midst of this chaos something has happened with my own body that’s left me in a whirlwind. I’ve been getting in contact with doctors & went to the doctors yesterday to have some tests done & will need more done within the next few weeks. I’m not going to get into detail, but please do pray… that’s all I’ll say on that.
Yeah… it’s been one of those weeks.
Teresa
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Guess Whose 17!?
So, I turned 17 on Saturday.
For some reason that has become something that is extremely odd for me to try to grasp. 17 is still young, it’s terribly young, but yet it shocks me that a whole year has passed again. And honestly, this was quite a year.
Yesterday morning at Church my friend Jess came up to me and jokingly asked, “so, do you feel older?” And I thouht about her question and said, “no, I don’t feel older, but I feel different. It’s weird to think that a whole year has gone by and I’m not too sure if I’m proud of the past year.” And she just looked at me and said “Hmm…” I kind of wish I would’ve answered her question differently. It’s not that my whole year of being 16 was one that I was fully unproud of; even though I struggled off and on with sin, some other things [not necessarily bad things] happened as well. I guess it was an unexpected year.
I don’t feel older… I feel different.
I keep being asked, “how was your birthday?” and the answer I keep giving is, “fine” or “it was okay.” There’s so much thought behind those answers even though those answers themselves aren’t thoughtful. The past 3 days were spent fully on wondering why I wasn’t completely proud of the past year, looking back at the way God stretched me in ways I thought were unimaginable, contemplating the tons of people that I met and their stories, reflecting on what burdens God had brought into my life. Honestly, it’s so weird to think that so much can happen in only 365 days. That doesn’t seem that long, really.
I’m not afraid of this year ahead; infact, I’m eager to see what God has in store and what He allows. This past year has made me realize evenmore that He is not a predictable God, in the sense that we sometimes don’t know what He’s going to allow or what He has planned.
So… I feel different, I grew some, I was stretched some.
I finally began to truly cherish friendships with people my own age; I’ve always leaned towards people who are older then me. I learned that white-water-rafting won’t kill me no matter how fearful I am; well, atleast the first time of experiencing it. I began writing 2 books. I learned that I had a great amount of bitterness towards my Dad because of my childhood. I learned that forgiving someone is truly freeing. I learned that I must try to reconcile relationships even when it feels like I’m the only one trying and willing. I learned that I struggle off and on with slight depression. I learned that I view, even the word “depression” as weakness. I found out that I truly love my family and cherish them. I found that my 9 neices and nephews grow up fast and that it makes me cry. I realized that it my deepest time of hurt and confusion I ran to God. One of my siblings tried to commit suicide. I almost lost the person in my life that I’m closest to. I’ve realized that I find myself on the floor face down weeping and praying when I’m most broken or desperate. I noticed that I truly am blessed with my Church family. I was blessed with new and amazing friendships and I haven’t been able to say that for years. I took 2 cooking classes. I learned that I sometimes pull myself away from something new because I doubt myself. I learned that I like some Chinese foods. I felt what it means to really miss someone. I went for a year without seeing my best friend – states away makes that a sad fact. I let go of the dream of becoming a musician. I’ve cried myself to sleep more this year than I ever have in my lifetime. I wondered if I fell too far away from God. I’ve learned that I’m super weak. I’ve learned that with Christ I’m strong.
I’ve decided that I want to go to Bryan College. I thought that maybe I would re-plan my trip to India through Gospel For Asia for the Summer after I graduate. I began to speak about Modern-Day Slavery and even contacted a Congressman. I fought for a petition about Modern-Day Slavery. I felt like I wasted my summer and wept on my Kitchen floor over it. I decided that I want to be a foster mom at some point in my life after befriending a family full of foster kids. This Summer I met 3 new friends from India, one who was even involved in Gospel For Asia. I met a Hindu who shunned me after he heard I was a Christian.
God gave me a sometimes unbearble burden over India & also Modern Day Slavery.I got fearful that sin was going to lead me to falling away from Christ – then I prayed instead of allowing myself to think that over and over again. I thought about going counceling. I began to believe that clouds are painted against the sky and not actual moving created things. I realized that I really hate it when people joke about drugs. I cried when I thought no one was looking. Had my friend Renny from India grasp my hands and look me in the eyes and say, “You can go to India, but know that you may not make it, you may not come back” it made me even more fearful. I’ve prayed to God almost weekly that my sibling who tried to commit suicide will still be there when I wake up in the morning. I began to love wearing flats. I started liking skinny jeans. I’ve made myself question why I believe what I believe. I learned about William Wilberforce and Zach Hunter. I’ve realized that I really really really miss writing music. I began to write poetry. I’ve re-learned that Tennessee is my favorite state. I wanted to learn to play the drums. Felt fear. Felt like I’ve succeeded. I felt left out. I’ve questioned if someone meant more to me then I did to them. I watched God change me. I watched the struggle with sin change me. I struggled with nightmares about India & also Modern-Day Slavery.I prayed and wept over the Hindi man who shunned me. My morals challenged a teacher of mine and he decided to stop cussing in class.
I learned that at some point I want to live in India, not only go for mission trips through GFA. As much as I convince myself that the world’s view of me means nothing to me, I’ve realized that at times it really does. I learned that I try to defend my sin and myself before God. I realized that I don’t have a defense when I’m before Him. I went on a missions trip to Tennessee. A homeless man changed my life and made me weep. I cried over India countless times. I prayed for a young girl I love but have never met. An adult man told me that he looked up to me. My 5th neice was born, which makes 9 neices and nephews. I went horse-back riding. I almost when bungee jumping. I learned to trust fully that God is near even when I want to doubt it. I’ve learned that my days don’t feel the same if I don’t spend time with God in the mornings like I like to. I got furious with God. I realized that I probably don’t have a right to be angry with God. I questioned if God was only angry at me. I feared God’s anger. I realized God is graceful and merciful. I’ve become unafraid of being vunerable and saying, “Be near me God and help me.”
This year was so full… it was full of brokenness, hope, restoration, frusteration, meeting new people, burdens for slaves and India, meeting friends from India. May the year to come be even more.
Teresa
For some reason that has become something that is extremely odd for me to try to grasp. 17 is still young, it’s terribly young, but yet it shocks me that a whole year has passed again. And honestly, this was quite a year.
Yesterday morning at Church my friend Jess came up to me and jokingly asked, “so, do you feel older?” And I thouht about her question and said, “no, I don’t feel older, but I feel different. It’s weird to think that a whole year has gone by and I’m not too sure if I’m proud of the past year.” And she just looked at me and said “Hmm…” I kind of wish I would’ve answered her question differently. It’s not that my whole year of being 16 was one that I was fully unproud of; even though I struggled off and on with sin, some other things [not necessarily bad things] happened as well. I guess it was an unexpected year.
I don’t feel older… I feel different.
I keep being asked, “how was your birthday?” and the answer I keep giving is, “fine” or “it was okay.” There’s so much thought behind those answers even though those answers themselves aren’t thoughtful. The past 3 days were spent fully on wondering why I wasn’t completely proud of the past year, looking back at the way God stretched me in ways I thought were unimaginable, contemplating the tons of people that I met and their stories, reflecting on what burdens God had brought into my life. Honestly, it’s so weird to think that so much can happen in only 365 days. That doesn’t seem that long, really.
I’m not afraid of this year ahead; infact, I’m eager to see what God has in store and what He allows. This past year has made me realize evenmore that He is not a predictable God, in the sense that we sometimes don’t know what He’s going to allow or what He has planned.
So… I feel different, I grew some, I was stretched some.
I finally began to truly cherish friendships with people my own age; I’ve always leaned towards people who are older then me. I learned that white-water-rafting won’t kill me no matter how fearful I am; well, atleast the first time of experiencing it. I began writing 2 books. I learned that I had a great amount of bitterness towards my Dad because of my childhood. I learned that forgiving someone is truly freeing. I learned that I must try to reconcile relationships even when it feels like I’m the only one trying and willing. I learned that I struggle off and on with slight depression. I learned that I view, even the word “depression” as weakness. I found out that I truly love my family and cherish them. I found that my 9 neices and nephews grow up fast and that it makes me cry. I realized that it my deepest time of hurt and confusion I ran to God. One of my siblings tried to commit suicide. I almost lost the person in my life that I’m closest to. I’ve realized that I find myself on the floor face down weeping and praying when I’m most broken or desperate. I noticed that I truly am blessed with my Church family. I was blessed with new and amazing friendships and I haven’t been able to say that for years. I took 2 cooking classes. I learned that I sometimes pull myself away from something new because I doubt myself. I learned that I like some Chinese foods. I felt what it means to really miss someone. I went for a year without seeing my best friend – states away makes that a sad fact. I let go of the dream of becoming a musician. I’ve cried myself to sleep more this year than I ever have in my lifetime. I wondered if I fell too far away from God. I’ve learned that I’m super weak. I’ve learned that with Christ I’m strong.
I’ve decided that I want to go to Bryan College. I thought that maybe I would re-plan my trip to India through Gospel For Asia for the Summer after I graduate. I began to speak about Modern-Day Slavery and even contacted a Congressman. I fought for a petition about Modern-Day Slavery. I felt like I wasted my summer and wept on my Kitchen floor over it. I decided that I want to be a foster mom at some point in my life after befriending a family full of foster kids. This Summer I met 3 new friends from India, one who was even involved in Gospel For Asia. I met a Hindu who shunned me after he heard I was a Christian.
God gave me a sometimes unbearble burden over India & also Modern Day Slavery.I got fearful that sin was going to lead me to falling away from Christ – then I prayed instead of allowing myself to think that over and over again. I thought about going counceling. I began to believe that clouds are painted against the sky and not actual moving created things. I realized that I really hate it when people joke about drugs. I cried when I thought no one was looking. Had my friend Renny from India grasp my hands and look me in the eyes and say, “You can go to India, but know that you may not make it, you may not come back” it made me even more fearful. I’ve prayed to God almost weekly that my sibling who tried to commit suicide will still be there when I wake up in the morning. I began to love wearing flats. I started liking skinny jeans. I’ve made myself question why I believe what I believe. I learned about William Wilberforce and Zach Hunter. I’ve realized that I really really really miss writing music. I began to write poetry. I’ve re-learned that Tennessee is my favorite state. I wanted to learn to play the drums. Felt fear. Felt like I’ve succeeded. I felt left out. I’ve questioned if someone meant more to me then I did to them. I watched God change me. I watched the struggle with sin change me. I struggled with nightmares about India & also Modern-Day Slavery.I prayed and wept over the Hindi man who shunned me. My morals challenged a teacher of mine and he decided to stop cussing in class.
I learned that at some point I want to live in India, not only go for mission trips through GFA. As much as I convince myself that the world’s view of me means nothing to me, I’ve realized that at times it really does. I learned that I try to defend my sin and myself before God. I realized that I don’t have a defense when I’m before Him. I went on a missions trip to Tennessee. A homeless man changed my life and made me weep. I cried over India countless times. I prayed for a young girl I love but have never met. An adult man told me that he looked up to me. My 5th neice was born, which makes 9 neices and nephews. I went horse-back riding. I almost when bungee jumping. I learned to trust fully that God is near even when I want to doubt it. I’ve learned that my days don’t feel the same if I don’t spend time with God in the mornings like I like to. I got furious with God. I realized that I probably don’t have a right to be angry with God. I questioned if God was only angry at me. I feared God’s anger. I realized God is graceful and merciful. I’ve become unafraid of being vunerable and saying, “Be near me God and help me.”
This year was so full… it was full of brokenness, hope, restoration, frusteration, meeting new people, burdens for slaves and India, meeting friends from India. May the year to come be even more.
Teresa
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Empty Handed & Offended
I kept saying that I was going to write about the missions trip that I was on in Tennessee June 16th-21st. I finally am; & I’m kind of eager to… but I want to share one story in particular.
Our second day on the missions trip my Youth Group & the adults who came along split into 2 groups. Both groups went to a different homeless shelter. Sadly, at our shelter the people staying there were somewhere else at the time. I kept telling my Youth Pastor how I was disappointed about that – I had gone expecting to be able to talk with at least a few people, to just hear their stories & complete honesty. I’m the type of person who loves conversation & honesty, I long for it I think. But, also, I said I wanted to be able to talk with at least a few people – I’m also a shy & quiet person… so wanting that seemed odd for me, but I guess I’m kind of getting a balance in that somehow. :)
After my group was done with half the day of doing a few things at the shelter we went to a near-by “park” [the type with benches [AND A BUILT IN WATERFALL/FOUNTAIN]. But, we ate lunch there & while a group of us were eating lunch nearly 15people started walking up to us asking for sandwiches & drinks & so on. Later we found out that this was a park where homeless often stayed & the very spot we were sitting & eating was the very spot many people came to give food to the homeless… so we were front & center with people crowding around us thinking we were there to feed them… so we did just that. We fed them, they walked away with sandwiches, drinks & chips in hand.
I made my way to the sandwiches again, after already having one I decided to get a half of another one. Sadly, after only 3 or 4 bites into the sandwich I decided that I actually didn’t want it & threw it away. Now, some will that is very “American-like” honestly, I just think it’s very human-like, I think it’s often in our nature to be greedy & wasteful, to want more than we can chew & then spit it out anyway [not only with food]. We aren’t satisfied or are at least hard to satisfy… I don’t think it’s only Americans, I think it’s humans in general – of course, we [Americans] display it more often.
Literally 10minutes after I had thrown away this 2nd sandwich of mine an African American [I actually hate it when people use someones race to describe them - I'm not sure why I do, but anyway, I just did it.] man who looked like he was in his late 50′s, walked over to us in his tattered & torn clothing. This man’s face alone made me smile! He walked up to us being completely giddy like he knew what he was going to get – that sandwich in his hand like everyone else. But he walked up to my Youth Pastor asking, “Can I have a sandwich?” Phil looked at him & said, “I’m sorry but we just gave the last one away.” The mans face went from giddy to disappointment – I’ve never seen the feeling of disappointment so real or so evident. This man who had come to us thinking he was going to get the expected was soon haunted with the thought that he wasn’t going to get anything at all.
Phil placed a little bag of chips into this mans hand. I stood there watching all of this take place with a granola bar in my hand – this man looked at me as if I was going to give it to him – it hadn’t even crossed my mind that I had food in my hand until the man was walking blocks away.
I’m weeping while sharing this…
I went back to my dorm at Bryan College, where we were staying. I locked myself in my room & wept bitterly with my head in my hands, & saying random words to God while praying. I sat there crying & praying for nearly an hour. I never once remembered throwing my sandwich away until I got back to my dorm, as soon as I walked in it hit me – ‘I threw away what could’ve been that man’s meal.’ I remember repeatedly saying to God, “God I feel as if his hunger is my burden.” I honestly think there are very few times that I’ve ever been that broken before. Me… I go around speaking about modern-day slavery & the unGodly injustice of it all – I’m writing two books about it right now & contacting Congressman. The very reality of that [modern-day slavery] scars me – burdens me… but also a man, in tattered & torn clothing leaves me in a room alone weeping for over an hour. I don’t think it was the fact that he didn’t get food that left me so broken [that was part of it] but I think the fact that the man was literally the poor & needy Jesus speaks of was what broke me.
I think within that hour I realized that its really offended my heart. It really offended my heart in thinking how so many people live that way, & what Jesus commanded to be in my heart – to be that poor in my spirit, to be that needy & desperate for Him. Jesus commands me to love the poor & the needy, to love the outcaste, to show justice & mercy to slaves I’m burdened for & passionate about, to love the homeless & the looked-down-upon, to love the people He has given me a love for – the Dalits in India who are considered “Untouchable” or subhuman.
A year ago I hadn’t even known about half of the people mentioned above – I hadn’t known that slavery was still going on in Africa, Asia, the Middle East or America… or even Ohio, or that people were Dalits in the country I love – India. But, a year ago it really offended my heart somehow. I remember a night about a year ago I was having some time with God & I uttered the words through weeping bitterly & praying, “God give me a burden for the poor & the needy. God, use me in whatever way you want. I’m willing.” I wrote those very words in my journal as well – I just wanted to be broken for who He is broken for & I wanted to be willing to be used in anyway He wanted me even if it wasn’t completely directed toward those very people.
Funny thing is [or not so funny]… God is faithful. That’s expected right? Not only is God faithful by leading us to trusting Him, or being our Comforter, or whatever it may be… but He’s faithful in laying it out bare & giving us what we’ve asked of Him, if it’s according to His will. After saying those very words, “God give me a burden for the poor & needy. God, use me in whatever way you want. I’m willing” it was brought to my attention about “Untouchables” in India & I started writing a young girl through Gospel For Asia who is a Christian & an Untouchable. Then modern-day slavery was brought to my attention this December & now I’m fighting to end the unGodly injustice… & then the poor & needy were literally standing in front of me asking for food.
Now please realize that I don’t want to over-spiritualize anything in the previous paragraph, I think we so often do that, but I do think God gives us opportunities if we ask for them & without God I don’t know if I believe some of these things would’ve happened.
I kind of feel like the man who asked us for food… empty handed. I come before God empty handed, absolutely left with nothing to give Him that is worthy of anything. He doesn’t desire sacrifices, He doesn’t want what I think “will make it better” He desires a broken & contrite heart.
The one who’s being broken, healed, offended & used by God… & it’s a good thing.
Teresa [read the previous entry as well!]
Our second day on the missions trip my Youth Group & the adults who came along split into 2 groups. Both groups went to a different homeless shelter. Sadly, at our shelter the people staying there were somewhere else at the time. I kept telling my Youth Pastor how I was disappointed about that – I had gone expecting to be able to talk with at least a few people, to just hear their stories & complete honesty. I’m the type of person who loves conversation & honesty, I long for it I think. But, also, I said I wanted to be able to talk with at least a few people – I’m also a shy & quiet person… so wanting that seemed odd for me, but I guess I’m kind of getting a balance in that somehow. :)
After my group was done with half the day of doing a few things at the shelter we went to a near-by “park” [the type with benches [AND A BUILT IN WATERFALL/FOUNTAIN]. But, we ate lunch there & while a group of us were eating lunch nearly 15people started walking up to us asking for sandwiches & drinks & so on. Later we found out that this was a park where homeless often stayed & the very spot we were sitting & eating was the very spot many people came to give food to the homeless… so we were front & center with people crowding around us thinking we were there to feed them… so we did just that. We fed them, they walked away with sandwiches, drinks & chips in hand.
I made my way to the sandwiches again, after already having one I decided to get a half of another one. Sadly, after only 3 or 4 bites into the sandwich I decided that I actually didn’t want it & threw it away. Now, some will that is very “American-like” honestly, I just think it’s very human-like, I think it’s often in our nature to be greedy & wasteful, to want more than we can chew & then spit it out anyway [not only with food]. We aren’t satisfied or are at least hard to satisfy… I don’t think it’s only Americans, I think it’s humans in general – of course, we [Americans] display it more often.
Literally 10minutes after I had thrown away this 2nd sandwich of mine an African American [I actually hate it when people use someones race to describe them - I'm not sure why I do, but anyway, I just did it.] man who looked like he was in his late 50′s, walked over to us in his tattered & torn clothing. This man’s face alone made me smile! He walked up to us being completely giddy like he knew what he was going to get – that sandwich in his hand like everyone else. But he walked up to my Youth Pastor asking, “Can I have a sandwich?” Phil looked at him & said, “I’m sorry but we just gave the last one away.” The mans face went from giddy to disappointment – I’ve never seen the feeling of disappointment so real or so evident. This man who had come to us thinking he was going to get the expected was soon haunted with the thought that he wasn’t going to get anything at all.
Phil placed a little bag of chips into this mans hand. I stood there watching all of this take place with a granola bar in my hand – this man looked at me as if I was going to give it to him – it hadn’t even crossed my mind that I had food in my hand until the man was walking blocks away.
I’m weeping while sharing this…
I went back to my dorm at Bryan College, where we were staying. I locked myself in my room & wept bitterly with my head in my hands, & saying random words to God while praying. I sat there crying & praying for nearly an hour. I never once remembered throwing my sandwich away until I got back to my dorm, as soon as I walked in it hit me – ‘I threw away what could’ve been that man’s meal.’ I remember repeatedly saying to God, “God I feel as if his hunger is my burden.” I honestly think there are very few times that I’ve ever been that broken before. Me… I go around speaking about modern-day slavery & the unGodly injustice of it all – I’m writing two books about it right now & contacting Congressman. The very reality of that [modern-day slavery] scars me – burdens me… but also a man, in tattered & torn clothing leaves me in a room alone weeping for over an hour. I don’t think it was the fact that he didn’t get food that left me so broken [that was part of it] but I think the fact that the man was literally the poor & needy Jesus speaks of was what broke me.
I think within that hour I realized that its really offended my heart. It really offended my heart in thinking how so many people live that way, & what Jesus commanded to be in my heart – to be that poor in my spirit, to be that needy & desperate for Him. Jesus commands me to love the poor & the needy, to love the outcaste, to show justice & mercy to slaves I’m burdened for & passionate about, to love the homeless & the looked-down-upon, to love the people He has given me a love for – the Dalits in India who are considered “Untouchable” or subhuman.
A year ago I hadn’t even known about half of the people mentioned above – I hadn’t known that slavery was still going on in Africa, Asia, the Middle East or America… or even Ohio, or that people were Dalits in the country I love – India. But, a year ago it really offended my heart somehow. I remember a night about a year ago I was having some time with God & I uttered the words through weeping bitterly & praying, “God give me a burden for the poor & the needy. God, use me in whatever way you want. I’m willing.” I wrote those very words in my journal as well – I just wanted to be broken for who He is broken for & I wanted to be willing to be used in anyway He wanted me even if it wasn’t completely directed toward those very people.
Funny thing is [or not so funny]… God is faithful. That’s expected right? Not only is God faithful by leading us to trusting Him, or being our Comforter, or whatever it may be… but He’s faithful in laying it out bare & giving us what we’ve asked of Him, if it’s according to His will. After saying those very words, “God give me a burden for the poor & needy. God, use me in whatever way you want. I’m willing” it was brought to my attention about “Untouchables” in India & I started writing a young girl through Gospel For Asia who is a Christian & an Untouchable. Then modern-day slavery was brought to my attention this December & now I’m fighting to end the unGodly injustice… & then the poor & needy were literally standing in front of me asking for food.
Now please realize that I don’t want to over-spiritualize anything in the previous paragraph, I think we so often do that, but I do think God gives us opportunities if we ask for them & without God I don’t know if I believe some of these things would’ve happened.
I kind of feel like the man who asked us for food… empty handed. I come before God empty handed, absolutely left with nothing to give Him that is worthy of anything. He doesn’t desire sacrifices, He doesn’t want what I think “will make it better” He desires a broken & contrite heart.
The one who’s being broken, healed, offended & used by God… & it’s a good thing.
Teresa [read the previous entry as well!]
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Child-like Simplicity
“Hey Mista!”
Those are two words that I heard all last week from a sweet 4 year old named miss Molly Meyer; minus the “miss” part. Last week I helped with Vacation Bible School at my church; the 4 year olds was the group that I was with. I don’t know why but as a young kid I never liked Bible School. And I take that back, I do know why. As a kid I never wanted anything to do with God, nothing that even connected with Him, not until I was 13 1/2 anyway… that woul explain why I didn’t like VBS.
BUT, this week had been free-ing for me, in more ways than one. I spent a total of 20hours with 24 4year olds this week. I know some people may find that overwhelming or exhausting and possibly rightly so; but I found and find it refreshing. There’s something about that child-like simplicity that draws me in; it’s something that leaves me light-hearted. And I’m smiling now just thinking about it.
My Youth Pastor had told those of us who were from the Youth Group helping with VBS to connect with the kids, even if it was just one child in our group that we connected with. He told us that child would remember that connection – and that was one of the things he wanted from this week, second to learning more about Jesus. Unintentionally during this week I connected with one of those 24 like no one else. We have 3 pastors at our Church and Pastor Shawn’s daughter, Molly Meyer, had been in my group of the 4 year olds. I don’t know what it is but if I were a 4 year old I’d be pretty darn jealous if this girl wasn’t my best friend. She clung to me throughout the whole week; she literally would not let go of me. She’d either be in my arms being held, sitting on my lap, holding my hand, or holding onto my leg while we were both standing listening to what it was that we were suppossed to be doing next.
Miss Molly Meyer seemed to be quiet at first. I had briefly met her a few months before Vacation Bible School when I was at a friends house and her and her brothers were there as well. She seemed quiet and reserved, very soft spoken. I guess she can be quite deceiving. *grin* Because this week with every passing day it seemed that she became louder, sillier and even more expressive. She was the one who wouldn’t let go of me but yet I’d soon see her behind me as I turned around and she’d be telling me to watch how high she could go as she jumped into the air. She sat on the picnic table with me when it was play time and talked about flowers and how her daddy (Pastor Shawn) kills the “yellow flowers” (dandelions) so she warned me never to bring them to her house. *grin* As we were sitting there talking about those “flowers” another 4 year old sat beside us and Molly looked at him and said, “we’re talking about flowers, if you don’t want to listen then you can leave.” I don’t know if she meant for it to be said in a harsh way but after she said it she smiled so I figured she wasn’t trying to be mean… he left. *grin* I also felt completely blessed because I learned later this week that she must trust me an aweful lot; because she fell and skinned her knee and I was the person she wanted when she was hurt. I felt blessed.
One of my favorite things was the fact that she suddenly started saying “Hey Mista” (hey mister) out of no where. She’d hold my hand as we were walking and suddenly jump up and shout “Hey Mista! Teresa did you here heeya (hear) me that time?” As if I could say no?
(yes, I am rambling and bragging about a 4 year old girl.)
But, my favorite time during these past 5 days was when almost everyone had left the Church and very few of us were left there. The Meyer family was getting ready to leave and after talking with Kay (Molly’s Mom, Shawn’s wife) I bent down and asked Molly for a hug, it was the 4th one she had given me that day; although the other ones were by her choice. And then I said, “oh, but can I have just one more?” And she looked at me and shook her head with a sly smile on her face and said “nooo” and then quickly said “I’m just teasing!” and gave me a huge hug. She left my arms and began to walk away with her family and suddenly turned around and ran back to my arms and said “I want just one more!”
She made my week! :)
Sitting here now a part of me wonders what it was that made her cling to me like she did. I wonder what it is that drew her to me. One of the mornings of VBS she simply said to me, “I want to be just like you.” I kind of giggled at that but within seconds her words really hit me – what on earth would truly make her want to be “just like me?” It made me smile nonstop but its made me wonder as well – can one single life really have that much affect on someone elses. (remember, I’m an overthinker.) I’ve always been the one to be on Molly’s end, wanting to be like that person whose impacted my life; it feels odd being on the other end.
Maybe it is because I come from a big family and have 9 nieces and nephews that has led me to love this type of simplicity; maybe that has something to do with what has led me to love children the way I do. Or maybe I just long for the simplicity that they have and seem to hold onto so easily. I’m guessing it’s all of these reasons. I love children, I love their nature and their simplicity, their excitement and wonder.
This all tends to make me smile… child-like simplicity. Molly. It all makes me smile.
I’ll be sharing soon about the missions trip that I went on this week… seriously, look out for the blog entry “Empty Handed.”
Teresa
Those are two words that I heard all last week from a sweet 4 year old named miss Molly Meyer; minus the “miss” part. Last week I helped with Vacation Bible School at my church; the 4 year olds was the group that I was with. I don’t know why but as a young kid I never liked Bible School. And I take that back, I do know why. As a kid I never wanted anything to do with God, nothing that even connected with Him, not until I was 13 1/2 anyway… that woul explain why I didn’t like VBS.
BUT, this week had been free-ing for me, in more ways than one. I spent a total of 20hours with 24 4year olds this week. I know some people may find that overwhelming or exhausting and possibly rightly so; but I found and find it refreshing. There’s something about that child-like simplicity that draws me in; it’s something that leaves me light-hearted. And I’m smiling now just thinking about it.
My Youth Pastor had told those of us who were from the Youth Group helping with VBS to connect with the kids, even if it was just one child in our group that we connected with. He told us that child would remember that connection – and that was one of the things he wanted from this week, second to learning more about Jesus. Unintentionally during this week I connected with one of those 24 like no one else. We have 3 pastors at our Church and Pastor Shawn’s daughter, Molly Meyer, had been in my group of the 4 year olds. I don’t know what it is but if I were a 4 year old I’d be pretty darn jealous if this girl wasn’t my best friend. She clung to me throughout the whole week; she literally would not let go of me. She’d either be in my arms being held, sitting on my lap, holding my hand, or holding onto my leg while we were both standing listening to what it was that we were suppossed to be doing next.
Miss Molly Meyer seemed to be quiet at first. I had briefly met her a few months before Vacation Bible School when I was at a friends house and her and her brothers were there as well. She seemed quiet and reserved, very soft spoken. I guess she can be quite deceiving. *grin* Because this week with every passing day it seemed that she became louder, sillier and even more expressive. She was the one who wouldn’t let go of me but yet I’d soon see her behind me as I turned around and she’d be telling me to watch how high she could go as she jumped into the air. She sat on the picnic table with me when it was play time and talked about flowers and how her daddy (Pastor Shawn) kills the “yellow flowers” (dandelions) so she warned me never to bring them to her house. *grin* As we were sitting there talking about those “flowers” another 4 year old sat beside us and Molly looked at him and said, “we’re talking about flowers, if you don’t want to listen then you can leave.” I don’t know if she meant for it to be said in a harsh way but after she said it she smiled so I figured she wasn’t trying to be mean… he left. *grin* I also felt completely blessed because I learned later this week that she must trust me an aweful lot; because she fell and skinned her knee and I was the person she wanted when she was hurt. I felt blessed.
One of my favorite things was the fact that she suddenly started saying “Hey Mista” (hey mister) out of no where. She’d hold my hand as we were walking and suddenly jump up and shout “Hey Mista! Teresa did you here heeya (hear) me that time?” As if I could say no?
(yes, I am rambling and bragging about a 4 year old girl.)
But, my favorite time during these past 5 days was when almost everyone had left the Church and very few of us were left there. The Meyer family was getting ready to leave and after talking with Kay (Molly’s Mom, Shawn’s wife) I bent down and asked Molly for a hug, it was the 4th one she had given me that day; although the other ones were by her choice. And then I said, “oh, but can I have just one more?” And she looked at me and shook her head with a sly smile on her face and said “nooo” and then quickly said “I’m just teasing!” and gave me a huge hug. She left my arms and began to walk away with her family and suddenly turned around and ran back to my arms and said “I want just one more!”
She made my week! :)
Sitting here now a part of me wonders what it was that made her cling to me like she did. I wonder what it is that drew her to me. One of the mornings of VBS she simply said to me, “I want to be just like you.” I kind of giggled at that but within seconds her words really hit me – what on earth would truly make her want to be “just like me?” It made me smile nonstop but its made me wonder as well – can one single life really have that much affect on someone elses. (remember, I’m an overthinker.) I’ve always been the one to be on Molly’s end, wanting to be like that person whose impacted my life; it feels odd being on the other end.
Maybe it is because I come from a big family and have 9 nieces and nephews that has led me to love this type of simplicity; maybe that has something to do with what has led me to love children the way I do. Or maybe I just long for the simplicity that they have and seem to hold onto so easily. I’m guessing it’s all of these reasons. I love children, I love their nature and their simplicity, their excitement and wonder.
This all tends to make me smile… child-like simplicity. Molly. It all makes me smile.
I’ll be sharing soon about the missions trip that I went on this week… seriously, look out for the blog entry “Empty Handed.”
Teresa
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Isolation & Desperation
So, I’ve never thought my life as one to be blogworthy… but I still didn’t think that’d lead to me not writing for over 2 months! I’ve had countless people come up to me during the weeks and ask, “have you just stopped writing or what?” and I’ve had people leave comments on here asking me what’s happened. Seriously, I don’t know whats happened, it’s a sad fact though.
I’m not going to write a “where in the heck has Teresa been” blog. I’m not going to catch up with everything I’ve been doing, because honestly, I wouldn’t know where to begin… not that my life is hectic and blogworthy or anything. *grin*
I will not lie though, these past few weeks have been insane for me. I haven’t been busy, I haven’t began traveling for my speaking events, I haven’t been gone all day and only home to get some sleep. No, infact I’ve mostly sat in my room since May 22nd thinking about the thoughts that have swarmed my head and the heaviness that conviction can bring.
Truth be told, I’ve been struggling off and on with a sin since sometime in April, and since the end of May I’ve been hiding it (someone had known about it before then but thought that I had stopped struggling with it because I had led them on to believe so.) I think that is the very thing that has kept me from writing – when I write I can easily become an open book, and I didn’t want to allow my thoughts to completely spill out into these words here; so I stopped writing all together. The conviction became so unbearable that I stopped writing in my personal journal because I didn’t want to take the time to have to think about the sin long enough to write about what was going on. The conviction became so unbearably heavy that my past two weeks were filled with nights of not getting to bed until 7am and sleeping for the next 3hours because my nights were heavy, my heart was heavy. I got to the point where I completely felt unworthy to come before God in any way… so what did I do? I stopped spending time with God, I claimed to be sick so that I wouldn’t be driving to Church with the family on that Sunday morning.
After I began to get used to not having time with God during those 2 weeks I suddenly became desperate for it. God isn’t Someone you can easily run from… especially if you’re like me and you know that you actually want to be with Him but are just being stubborn and selfish… and sinful.
My isolation created desperation.
Isolating myself from God, from the Church, from loved ones around me were the very things I thought would make my conviction a lighter load – I hated the feeling of conviction, I don’t think we were created to like it though. But, those very things I did in hope to give myself a lighter load were the very things that led me to a place of desperation. It led me to a place of complete brokenness, complete weariness. It led me to a place where I could truthfully say “I am poor and needy.” (Psalm 86)
Last night and today those past few weeks have left me feeling that I have wasted time. That’s a burden like no other. In my (almost) 3 years of following Christ I have never gone so long without spending time with God; those few weeks felt like a life time. But that burden is real; the burden of feeling as if I had wasted time. The burden that leaves you questioning “what could I have been doing if I wasn’t in this sin?” Truth is I won’t know, and I probably wouldn’t want to know if I could.
The past few nights (when I’m most likely dealing with the heaviness of it all) kind of felt like the someone following Jesus who is right behind Him, trying to be steady in every step and then suddenly taking a fall, a trap placed right in front of me and instead of looking down and seeing the trap there, I fall right into it. Not only do I fall into it but I get up and out of the trap running to make my way closer to Jesus who is still leading me and then suddenly I look back and see that trap there again and run from Jesus to make my way back to that trap. And even when running toward the trap I keep looking back towards Jesus who has stopped, Who hasn’t continued to walk without me, but is waiting for me; walking toward me even though I’m too darn stubborn to get out of that trap.
The heavy-heartedness was real. Conviction was real. Regret was real. The pain was real. The sorrow was real. The disappointment was real. The wretched feeling was real. The feeling of unworthiness was real.
The light-heartedness of Jesus is real. The forgivness from Him is real. The joy He can give is real. The comfort in sorrow He can give is real. The worth He creates in us is real.
I am unworthy of the forgiveness He willingly gives me; but I want to be one who willingly accepts it. One who runs towards Him in complete desperation instead of allowing my feeling of unworthiness to win this. I’m running towards Him in complete desperation.
I’m not going to write a “where in the heck has Teresa been” blog. I’m not going to catch up with everything I’ve been doing, because honestly, I wouldn’t know where to begin… not that my life is hectic and blogworthy or anything. *grin*
I will not lie though, these past few weeks have been insane for me. I haven’t been busy, I haven’t began traveling for my speaking events, I haven’t been gone all day and only home to get some sleep. No, infact I’ve mostly sat in my room since May 22nd thinking about the thoughts that have swarmed my head and the heaviness that conviction can bring.
Truth be told, I’ve been struggling off and on with a sin since sometime in April, and since the end of May I’ve been hiding it (someone had known about it before then but thought that I had stopped struggling with it because I had led them on to believe so.) I think that is the very thing that has kept me from writing – when I write I can easily become an open book, and I didn’t want to allow my thoughts to completely spill out into these words here; so I stopped writing all together. The conviction became so unbearable that I stopped writing in my personal journal because I didn’t want to take the time to have to think about the sin long enough to write about what was going on. The conviction became so unbearably heavy that my past two weeks were filled with nights of not getting to bed until 7am and sleeping for the next 3hours because my nights were heavy, my heart was heavy. I got to the point where I completely felt unworthy to come before God in any way… so what did I do? I stopped spending time with God, I claimed to be sick so that I wouldn’t be driving to Church with the family on that Sunday morning.
After I began to get used to not having time with God during those 2 weeks I suddenly became desperate for it. God isn’t Someone you can easily run from… especially if you’re like me and you know that you actually want to be with Him but are just being stubborn and selfish… and sinful.
My isolation created desperation.
Isolating myself from God, from the Church, from loved ones around me were the very things I thought would make my conviction a lighter load – I hated the feeling of conviction, I don’t think we were created to like it though. But, those very things I did in hope to give myself a lighter load were the very things that led me to a place of desperation. It led me to a place of complete brokenness, complete weariness. It led me to a place where I could truthfully say “I am poor and needy.” (Psalm 86)
Last night and today those past few weeks have left me feeling that I have wasted time. That’s a burden like no other. In my (almost) 3 years of following Christ I have never gone so long without spending time with God; those few weeks felt like a life time. But that burden is real; the burden of feeling as if I had wasted time. The burden that leaves you questioning “what could I have been doing if I wasn’t in this sin?” Truth is I won’t know, and I probably wouldn’t want to know if I could.
The past few nights (when I’m most likely dealing with the heaviness of it all) kind of felt like the someone following Jesus who is right behind Him, trying to be steady in every step and then suddenly taking a fall, a trap placed right in front of me and instead of looking down and seeing the trap there, I fall right into it. Not only do I fall into it but I get up and out of the trap running to make my way closer to Jesus who is still leading me and then suddenly I look back and see that trap there again and run from Jesus to make my way back to that trap. And even when running toward the trap I keep looking back towards Jesus who has stopped, Who hasn’t continued to walk without me, but is waiting for me; walking toward me even though I’m too darn stubborn to get out of that trap.
The heavy-heartedness was real. Conviction was real. Regret was real. The pain was real. The sorrow was real. The disappointment was real. The wretched feeling was real. The feeling of unworthiness was real.
The light-heartedness of Jesus is real. The forgivness from Him is real. The joy He can give is real. The comfort in sorrow He can give is real. The worth He creates in us is real.
I am unworthy of the forgiveness He willingly gives me; but I want to be one who willingly accepts it. One who runs towards Him in complete desperation instead of allowing my feeling of unworthiness to win this. I’m running towards Him in complete desperation.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
A Man's Thoughts...
Today I saw and talked with a man that I greatly respect; Nazih. I’ve known him since I was born and have loved my times of talking with him ever since. He’s in his early 60′s and his opinions on things have always left me wondering about my own. This 60 year old man who I greatly respect is from Jordan. If I remember right, 3 years ago he told me that he came to America to study to be a doctor when he was in his 20′s or 30′s. By the way… Nazih is my doctor.
He walked in the room that my Mom and I were in. As soon as he walked in after we had said “hi” to eachother and realized it had been over 3years since we’ve seen eachother and he had checked me and went over all of my syptoms … I quickly asked him something that I was trying to figure out while in the waiting room a few moments earlier. I asked “Where is Jordan? Isn’t it in the Middle East?” He looked up from his medical papers and looked at me like he expected that kind of question from me, and said, “Yes Teresa. It’s in the Middle East. Jordan is near Israel, and Israel is close to the Gaza Strip and the West Bank. But yes… Jordan isn’t too far from Israel though.” Nazih said a few other things that his extremely heavy accent left me unable to understand even after asking him to repeat it a few times. He looked at me awhile and I smiled and said okay; he had answered my question. He went back to the table full of tissue boxes, tongue depressers (don’t you hate those sticks that they put in your mouth!? – thankfully I didn’t have to this time!) and his medical papers that he had been looking at.
After he had been reading over his papers I suddenly said “I want to go to Israel, India and Africa on mission trips.” Now, first of all, if you know me at all you know that I have a love for India; I have for the past year and a half. Africa has never really been a place I’ve been interested in until this year; and Israel has only been an interest of mine during the past few months, those interests made me want to go there on a mission trip as well. After I said those words Nazih put his pen down and said “Don’t go to Israel! They are thieves and liars! All they do is steal and they don’t deserve what they have! The Israelites should have never been on the earth!” I literally just sat there taken aback! When he looked at me I probably looked a bit shocked and scared at the same time. He looked at me blankly for a few moments and then over at my Mom and back to his medical sheets.
For moments I just sat there in the silence trying to allow everything he just said to somehow be clearer in my mind… yeah, that didn’t work. “What makes you think that?” is what I asked him. In the back of my mind I kept thinking “But the Israeli’s are God’s chosen people, right? And he’s talking like he means all of the Israelites.” (I’m sure he did not mean ALL of the Israelites by the way.) He put down his pen and walked towards me. I was a bit intimidated, I couldn’t tell if he was angry or just giving me his opinion on this… but either way, I wanted his answers. I figured he wasn’t angry since I allowed my questions and feelings to be bias. He said to me, “Teresa, the Israeli’s are thieves, they’ve stolen land and homes from the Palestinians. The Palestinians are left being refugees and poorer than what they once were. They are thieves and liars, horrible people. I cannot stand the Israeli’s.”
The one thought swirmming through my mind was that he really didn’t like the Israelites. (you’re thinking, “duh!”) But seriously, to me it seemed more than just anger after hearing about these things on the News or reading them in a book – I questioned if he personally had experienced things with the Israelites when he lived in Jordan.
I looked at him and said confusingly to him… “Isn’t Israel and Palestine… hmm, well the Gaza Strip?” And he said, “The Israeli’s and the Palestinians have been fighting over the Gaza Strip and the West Bank.” Somehow he went from there and said that between Israel and Jordan was the Jordan River. Bagdad was brought into the picture… some of you are shaking in your boots right now, eh? *grin* Not only was our conversation filled with the war of Israel and Palestine but the Middle East in general. I know some people don’t like those topics … but, apparently, I guess I do. I don’t think it’s the Middle East that exactly interests me, but people.
Honestly, for the past year I’ve always been a bit aware of the issues with Israel and Palestine; I do not know how – I was never directly taught about it. I’ve considered myself a fairly aware person overall. But obviously I knew less than I thought when I had to wonder what continent Jordan, Israel and Palestine were on. The fact that I kept the thought “But the Israelites are God’s chosen people” should give you a glimpse into my ignorance; I was allowing that fact to determain what I thought about the whole thing. I don’t think I need to take sides – but I think I need to allow other things to determain what I think of this – especially after this conversation. Most of the time while sitting in his office I kept the thought “Well the Isrealites are God’s chosen people; they are right. They should have the land. They are God’s people, they can’t be wrong.” Why did I think that? Probably because I was acting as a simple minded person who thought that because God’s name is mentioned then they are right (not saying they are right or wrong – I actually don’t think either of them are fully right or fully wrong.) The sad fact is, is that some people would agree with me on that about themselves. Rarely do people take both sides into consideration. Yes, the Israeli’s are God’s chosen people; I won’t argue with that. The Bible is God-breathed and it’s Truth, and that very thing is written in the Old Testament about the Israelites. Don’t think that I’m doubting that.
Before I left Nazih looked at me and he said, “Teresa, if you want to go to Israel, go to to Israel. But be careful, please, be careful! Learn as much as you can about the Middle East before ever deciding to go there; read a lot, learn a lot. Teresa, if you go there unknowing about things the Israeli’s will want your head. Seriously Teresa, I plead with you; be careful when going to Israel. Just be careful Teresa, please be careful.”
After we walked out of the room and into the main area, he was filling out my prescription and I walked up to him and said “I hope you don’t think I was being rude; I only wanted your opinions.” And he said, “No, you weren’t being rude at all, not all Teresa. I hope you didn’t think I was being rude either, I wasn’t trying to be, I was only giving you my opinions.”
To be honest with you, I think my heart goes out to the Palestinians. I mean, I’m not taking sides though. I don’t know all of the history; but from what I do know most of their land has been taken from them and whatnot – they only have 8% left. I will not argue that the Israeli’s are God’s chosen people; but that does not mean that all of the Israli’s actions will be Godly; that isn’t a promised thing, we’re all sinners. A part of me wonders if some (not all) of the Israeli’s think they deserve the Gaza Strip and the West Bank because that label is attached to them in the Old Testament… “Israelites: God’s chosen people??” I’m not saying that all of them do, I’m just wondering. I wonder if the Israelites (those who have an influence on the war), those who love God, if they truly would listen to the words “Give without expecting in return” or if they would allow the fact that they are God’s chosen people in the Old Testement to humble them (yes, I think pride is an issue here – I could be wrong), just how differently the issues could be solved. And if the Palestinians (those who have an influence on the war), those who love God, focused on the fact that they are called to love their neighbor and love their enimies; just how different this would be now. Both of these people (the ones joined in on the war – not all people) seem to be focusing on the fact that “I’m an Isralite” or “I’m a Palestinian; I’m not saying that it’s a bad thing for them to love their countries; but what I’m saying is that the longer some of them focus on their differences and not the fact that something needs to be solved, the messier things are going to get. Just some thoughts…
Okay. So, that was longer than I expected. Please do leave your thoughts. I’m not asking you to resist or side with me – because honestly, I’m not bias over this – I don’t know enough and I don’t have to take a side; I just want your opinions.
“What keeps us apart from one another? Some would say an ocean. Others would say cultural differences. What must we change about ourselves to break down the wall that seperates us? I think it begins by abandoning the pointed finger of blame. It begins by coming with humble spirits and a sincere desire to know one another. Otherwise it becomes an us/them mentality and the wall simply becomes thicker.” -Jena Lee
Teresa
He walked in the room that my Mom and I were in. As soon as he walked in after we had said “hi” to eachother and realized it had been over 3years since we’ve seen eachother and he had checked me and went over all of my syptoms … I quickly asked him something that I was trying to figure out while in the waiting room a few moments earlier. I asked “Where is Jordan? Isn’t it in the Middle East?” He looked up from his medical papers and looked at me like he expected that kind of question from me, and said, “Yes Teresa. It’s in the Middle East. Jordan is near Israel, and Israel is close to the Gaza Strip and the West Bank. But yes… Jordan isn’t too far from Israel though.” Nazih said a few other things that his extremely heavy accent left me unable to understand even after asking him to repeat it a few times. He looked at me awhile and I smiled and said okay; he had answered my question. He went back to the table full of tissue boxes, tongue depressers (don’t you hate those sticks that they put in your mouth!? – thankfully I didn’t have to this time!) and his medical papers that he had been looking at.
After he had been reading over his papers I suddenly said “I want to go to Israel, India and Africa on mission trips.” Now, first of all, if you know me at all you know that I have a love for India; I have for the past year and a half. Africa has never really been a place I’ve been interested in until this year; and Israel has only been an interest of mine during the past few months, those interests made me want to go there on a mission trip as well. After I said those words Nazih put his pen down and said “Don’t go to Israel! They are thieves and liars! All they do is steal and they don’t deserve what they have! The Israelites should have never been on the earth!” I literally just sat there taken aback! When he looked at me I probably looked a bit shocked and scared at the same time. He looked at me blankly for a few moments and then over at my Mom and back to his medical sheets.
For moments I just sat there in the silence trying to allow everything he just said to somehow be clearer in my mind… yeah, that didn’t work. “What makes you think that?” is what I asked him. In the back of my mind I kept thinking “But the Israeli’s are God’s chosen people, right? And he’s talking like he means all of the Israelites.” (I’m sure he did not mean ALL of the Israelites by the way.) He put down his pen and walked towards me. I was a bit intimidated, I couldn’t tell if he was angry or just giving me his opinion on this… but either way, I wanted his answers. I figured he wasn’t angry since I allowed my questions and feelings to be bias. He said to me, “Teresa, the Israeli’s are thieves, they’ve stolen land and homes from the Palestinians. The Palestinians are left being refugees and poorer than what they once were. They are thieves and liars, horrible people. I cannot stand the Israeli’s.”
The one thought swirmming through my mind was that he really didn’t like the Israelites. (you’re thinking, “duh!”) But seriously, to me it seemed more than just anger after hearing about these things on the News or reading them in a book – I questioned if he personally had experienced things with the Israelites when he lived in Jordan.
I looked at him and said confusingly to him… “Isn’t Israel and Palestine… hmm, well the Gaza Strip?” And he said, “The Israeli’s and the Palestinians have been fighting over the Gaza Strip and the West Bank.” Somehow he went from there and said that between Israel and Jordan was the Jordan River. Bagdad was brought into the picture… some of you are shaking in your boots right now, eh? *grin* Not only was our conversation filled with the war of Israel and Palestine but the Middle East in general. I know some people don’t like those topics … but, apparently, I guess I do. I don’t think it’s the Middle East that exactly interests me, but people.
Honestly, for the past year I’ve always been a bit aware of the issues with Israel and Palestine; I do not know how – I was never directly taught about it. I’ve considered myself a fairly aware person overall. But obviously I knew less than I thought when I had to wonder what continent Jordan, Israel and Palestine were on. The fact that I kept the thought “But the Israelites are God’s chosen people” should give you a glimpse into my ignorance; I was allowing that fact to determain what I thought about the whole thing. I don’t think I need to take sides – but I think I need to allow other things to determain what I think of this – especially after this conversation. Most of the time while sitting in his office I kept the thought “Well the Isrealites are God’s chosen people; they are right. They should have the land. They are God’s people, they can’t be wrong.” Why did I think that? Probably because I was acting as a simple minded person who thought that because God’s name is mentioned then they are right (not saying they are right or wrong – I actually don’t think either of them are fully right or fully wrong.) The sad fact is, is that some people would agree with me on that about themselves. Rarely do people take both sides into consideration. Yes, the Israeli’s are God’s chosen people; I won’t argue with that. The Bible is God-breathed and it’s Truth, and that very thing is written in the Old Testament about the Israelites. Don’t think that I’m doubting that.
Before I left Nazih looked at me and he said, “Teresa, if you want to go to Israel, go to to Israel. But be careful, please, be careful! Learn as much as you can about the Middle East before ever deciding to go there; read a lot, learn a lot. Teresa, if you go there unknowing about things the Israeli’s will want your head. Seriously Teresa, I plead with you; be careful when going to Israel. Just be careful Teresa, please be careful.”
After we walked out of the room and into the main area, he was filling out my prescription and I walked up to him and said “I hope you don’t think I was being rude; I only wanted your opinions.” And he said, “No, you weren’t being rude at all, not all Teresa. I hope you didn’t think I was being rude either, I wasn’t trying to be, I was only giving you my opinions.”
To be honest with you, I think my heart goes out to the Palestinians. I mean, I’m not taking sides though. I don’t know all of the history; but from what I do know most of their land has been taken from them and whatnot – they only have 8% left. I will not argue that the Israeli’s are God’s chosen people; but that does not mean that all of the Israli’s actions will be Godly; that isn’t a promised thing, we’re all sinners. A part of me wonders if some (not all) of the Israeli’s think they deserve the Gaza Strip and the West Bank because that label is attached to them in the Old Testament… “Israelites: God’s chosen people??” I’m not saying that all of them do, I’m just wondering. I wonder if the Israelites (those who have an influence on the war), those who love God, if they truly would listen to the words “Give without expecting in return” or if they would allow the fact that they are God’s chosen people in the Old Testement to humble them (yes, I think pride is an issue here – I could be wrong), just how differently the issues could be solved. And if the Palestinians (those who have an influence on the war), those who love God, focused on the fact that they are called to love their neighbor and love their enimies; just how different this would be now. Both of these people (the ones joined in on the war – not all people) seem to be focusing on the fact that “I’m an Isralite” or “I’m a Palestinian; I’m not saying that it’s a bad thing for them to love their countries; but what I’m saying is that the longer some of them focus on their differences and not the fact that something needs to be solved, the messier things are going to get. Just some thoughts…
Okay. So, that was longer than I expected. Please do leave your thoughts. I’m not asking you to resist or side with me – because honestly, I’m not bias over this – I don’t know enough and I don’t have to take a side; I just want your opinions.
“What keeps us apart from one another? Some would say an ocean. Others would say cultural differences. What must we change about ourselves to break down the wall that seperates us? I think it begins by abandoning the pointed finger of blame. It begins by coming with humble spirits and a sincere desire to know one another. Otherwise it becomes an us/them mentality and the wall simply becomes thicker.” -Jena Lee
Teresa
Monday, March 31, 2008
Simply GOOD!
Today is simply GOOD. I’m sitting in my room looking out the window. The shining sun is creating shadows of twigs from bushes dancing across my drawn curtains. The grass outside is actually beginning to turn green; the brown “grass” is finally being covered. Signs of Spring my friends! And Bethany Dillon is singing in my ears ‘You change me/ You change me/ Thank You Jesus, I can see You change me.’ I’m trying to let the beauty of all of this sink in… there’s no explanation for this peace in me other than Jesus. These past few weeks have been crazy; they have WRECKED me.
I’ve wanted to write for the past few weeks but one thing has kept me from it. Truth be told: I was struggling with a private sin for about 2 1/2 weeks. One that only a friend of mine and my sister knew about. I have yet to gain the courage to tell anyone what the sin is; but I talked to one friend about it often. On Easter, at Church, I told her that I had never felt the battle between Spirit and flesh so real!
Those 2 1/2 weeks left me dealing with more doubt, guilt, shame, anger and selfishness than I probably have at any other time. I felt so much weight and pressure to just pull it together; and I asked myself often if my desire was truly God or my flesh. Asking myself that made me completely uncomfortable… why? Because I thought I had become okay with my sin. I was knowingly sinning against God and asking myself if my desire was God or my flesh. I told my friend that this sin of mine was a sin that was from my past; and that did more than just scare me. I told her that I felt that since this sin was from my past that I was heading back into that direction… she didn’t agree, and I’m glad. *grin* She told me that since that sin was from my past than Satan had an easier attack on me; since I’ve already commited that sin my flesh found it easier to commit again. Her words changed my mind.
Honestly though; I had never felt so stuck. I felt like this sin was something that I wasn’t going to get away from. I kept giving in… falling, giving in… falling, almost giving up… falling. I kept fighting it with my own strength, and I’m not that strong. It’s real friends, the battle between Spirit and flesh is real!
And why is today simply good? I know the above doesn’t sound all that great. *grin* But, today is simply good because today I told my friend Caroline that I feel alittle free-er, that I feel relieved and like a weight has been lifted. Last night I spent time before God just weeping… if you walked in I’d probably look a bit pathetic to you… just laying on my bed like I was at the feet of Jesus, just weeping and praying… and weeping some more.
Truth be told: He isn’t just angry, He isn’t pushing me away, He doesn’t want me to fight alone, He doesn’t want me to give in and give up, His love hasn’t grown cold. He’s merciful, I’m the one who pushes Him away and yet He still calls me to Him, He wants to fight for me with His strength, He wants me to realize the truth of His character and not the lies I’ve tended to believe. He wants to pick me up and dust me off and allow me to be the one who falls at His feet with the perfume, tears and hair… and tell me that I’ve been forgiven. It makes me weep, because it’s TRUE. It’s SAVING me and it’s CHANGING me. He is changing me! It sounds foolish and rediculous, this sinless, pure God has always wanted to SAVE me from my sin and change me! It sounds foolish, it doesn’t make sense, but it changes me.
Thank you Jesus! It’s been a hard, battle-filled, depressing… yet, interesting, heart-softening, mind-changing few weeks with Him in this.
A few days ago a new friend of mine told me that she used to struggle with the sin of doubt a lot. She said that only one person knows about it; but that she struggled with it for 12 years, (I gasped when she said that!) She said that for 12 years she doubted if she was truly God’s if her salvation was real… I’d think that doubt was also accompanied by fear. During this past 2 weeks friends, doubt and fear were things that had become unwanted friends of mine. They are both things that I’ve struggled with off and on; but I literally had a huge fear that my current sin was changing who I was in Christ – I feared that I was no longer His. …One sin leads to another, eh?
But friends, it’s good. Today is simply GOOD.
I hope that all makes sense… I felt scattered, unsure of what words were next. It’s good! I’m out if this battle that I’ve been fighting for 2 1/2 weeks because I trusted HIM and I fell to His feet.
Thank You Jesus!
I’ve wanted to write for the past few weeks but one thing has kept me from it. Truth be told: I was struggling with a private sin for about 2 1/2 weeks. One that only a friend of mine and my sister knew about. I have yet to gain the courage to tell anyone what the sin is; but I talked to one friend about it often. On Easter, at Church, I told her that I had never felt the battle between Spirit and flesh so real!
Those 2 1/2 weeks left me dealing with more doubt, guilt, shame, anger and selfishness than I probably have at any other time. I felt so much weight and pressure to just pull it together; and I asked myself often if my desire was truly God or my flesh. Asking myself that made me completely uncomfortable… why? Because I thought I had become okay with my sin. I was knowingly sinning against God and asking myself if my desire was God or my flesh. I told my friend that this sin of mine was a sin that was from my past; and that did more than just scare me. I told her that I felt that since this sin was from my past that I was heading back into that direction… she didn’t agree, and I’m glad. *grin* She told me that since that sin was from my past than Satan had an easier attack on me; since I’ve already commited that sin my flesh found it easier to commit again. Her words changed my mind.
Honestly though; I had never felt so stuck. I felt like this sin was something that I wasn’t going to get away from. I kept giving in… falling, giving in… falling, almost giving up… falling. I kept fighting it with my own strength, and I’m not that strong. It’s real friends, the battle between Spirit and flesh is real!
And why is today simply good? I know the above doesn’t sound all that great. *grin* But, today is simply good because today I told my friend Caroline that I feel alittle free-er, that I feel relieved and like a weight has been lifted. Last night I spent time before God just weeping… if you walked in I’d probably look a bit pathetic to you… just laying on my bed like I was at the feet of Jesus, just weeping and praying… and weeping some more.
Truth be told: He isn’t just angry, He isn’t pushing me away, He doesn’t want me to fight alone, He doesn’t want me to give in and give up, His love hasn’t grown cold. He’s merciful, I’m the one who pushes Him away and yet He still calls me to Him, He wants to fight for me with His strength, He wants me to realize the truth of His character and not the lies I’ve tended to believe. He wants to pick me up and dust me off and allow me to be the one who falls at His feet with the perfume, tears and hair… and tell me that I’ve been forgiven. It makes me weep, because it’s TRUE. It’s SAVING me and it’s CHANGING me. He is changing me! It sounds foolish and rediculous, this sinless, pure God has always wanted to SAVE me from my sin and change me! It sounds foolish, it doesn’t make sense, but it changes me.
Thank you Jesus! It’s been a hard, battle-filled, depressing… yet, interesting, heart-softening, mind-changing few weeks with Him in this.
A few days ago a new friend of mine told me that she used to struggle with the sin of doubt a lot. She said that only one person knows about it; but that she struggled with it for 12 years, (I gasped when she said that!) She said that for 12 years she doubted if she was truly God’s if her salvation was real… I’d think that doubt was also accompanied by fear. During this past 2 weeks friends, doubt and fear were things that had become unwanted friends of mine. They are both things that I’ve struggled with off and on; but I literally had a huge fear that my current sin was changing who I was in Christ – I feared that I was no longer His. …One sin leads to another, eh?
But friends, it’s good. Today is simply GOOD.
I hope that all makes sense… I felt scattered, unsure of what words were next. It’s good! I’m out if this battle that I’ve been fighting for 2 1/2 weeks because I trusted HIM and I fell to His feet.
Thank You Jesus!
Friday, March 14, 2008
Something Foriegn
I haven’t written in a month. How I did it, I don’t know. Why I did it, simply because I didn’t want to write about the struggles and valleys that I faced during the past month. I don’t think I’ve ever grown or struggled so much in such a short amount of time.
To sum up the past 4 or so weeks… I struggled with feeling more distance from God than I ever have, I struggled with more loneliness than I had ever felt. Someone I knew commited suicide, I found out family members of mine were getting abused. I questioned if I was fit for being an abolitionist or if God would really want to use me, I asked God if He was ignoring me or angry with me. I felt too much pressure about school and my grades – so I started allowing certain grades to slip. And then I fell into a sin that I was knowingly commiting against God… it was quite a 4 weeks!
… It had honestly felt as if the sun was hidden beneathe a dark cloud for months at a time, and that my own voice was silent and I forgot that many surrounding me had willing, listening ears.
Tuesday evening I was in the car making my way to a dear friend of mine. Now, Ohio is known for its massive spread of fields and glorious sunsets and sunrises. But, there was something extremely precious about that sunset I had seen when on the road. I felt that God was really grabbing my attention. The wintery fields were beaming with gold and reflecting the sun off of the white snow. And the sky was filled with the brightest orange and yet hints of red, pink, and purple. I was completely overwhelmed, and tears streamed down my face.
The sun was setting, but in my life the sun has been rising… and it’s glorious. =)
Thank you Jesus!
I was with a new and sweet friend of mine yesterday evening. While we were in the car, making our way to Church, we were both talking about where we’ve been. She’s been struggling with many things physically, which many think it’s from a fall she had a few months ago that led to a minor concussion. I can only guess that that physical struggle leads to emotional and spiritual struggles as well. She sat beside me driving and told me that she was really doing well; she was doing well and was exciting about it. I think her and I were both quite stoked to know that!! *grin* And I shared with her a glimpse of where I’ve been for the past several months and told her that the new season I’m in after all of these struggles is giving me a glimpse of peace, and that it honestly feels foriegn. The feeling of peace feels more than alittle foriegn to me. I told her that I’ve been following Christ for almost 3years and yet the past 2 years have been full of struggle and complete peace had been something hard to truly feel, and she said that when we follow Christ is when our true struggle really begins… that made me feel a little less like a loner in that thought! *grin*
Feeling distant from God is leading to trusting that He is near, the well-known struggle of loneliness is turning into a glimpse and reminder that I am truly loved. The struggle of dealing with the suicide is still hard and even harder watching those who were affected in a greater way than I was, my heart is still broken for my family members who were getting abused. I trust that God has me where He wants me with abolition even if I sometimes doubt that He’d want to use me, I know that God never walks away from those who are His own and that His anger lasts only for a moment. I know that with school if I do my best that is all that is really asked of me, and I know that I serve a God who hears my broken and contrite heart when I’m struggling with the guilt of sin.
Its felt as if the sun has been hidden beneathe a dark cloud for months at a time. And the sun was setting Tuesday night. But the sun is rising at the moment that I’ve least expected it. I’m given a glimpse of something so foriegn as peace…. and I can see the Son.
Thank you to those of you who have prayed.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
One Wish: To Be Like Jeremiah
I woke up this morning at 7:30 after re-setting the alarm 2 or 3 times after it first went off at 6:45. Last night when I set my alarm for 6:45 right before going to sleep around 11, I thought I’d be eager to get out of bed about a half-hour earlier then I normally do on Saturdays. But, this morning I was anything but eager, (which isn’t normal – I love early mornings and having hours of quiet and time to myself before others are up) my body just longed to be in bed. I must admit though, it felt good under the warm covers. :)
I just had some much needed time with Jesus this morning. I spend time reading the Word and praying every morning, and time in prayer every night. But, it’s beginning to amaze me that I never feel completely fulfilled; not that God doesn’t fulfill me. But, with every morning waking up, I realize that spending time with Him only creates more desire to spend time with Him; it only leaves me desperate for it again. I’ve never come to that point where it’s like “Okay, now I feel completely fulfilled, I’ve learned everything that I have to learn, I’ve come to the point where I can stop.” Friends, I don’t think we are ever going to come to that point. *grin*
One thing that has been circling in my mind during the past… good month, has been the reminder of how unfaithful I am. Just before getting my laptop to start writing, I started thinking about that. And I thought, or maybe I said it outloud (I tend to be one who does that often) “If I had one wish, I’d wish to be like Jeremiah.” Now, I don’t know that if someone told me I had one wish, if that’d be the first thing to come to my mind. But why would I possibly wish to be like Jeremiah? Not because he struggled, not because he’s written about in the Bible, not because he was a prophet…. but, simply because he was faithful.
It’s really not easy to be truly faithful, is it?… I know some of you are like “Well duh Teresa, of course it’s not.” I know, that’s obvious. But, seriously, it’s hard to be truly faithful, to be truly obedient. That seems to be a lesson that I just can’t seem to learn; I seem to keep having a reminder of how unfaithful I am, of just how hard it really is to be truly faithful. Or maybe it’s a lesson that I’m too stubborn to learn.
I feel like I’m stuck in such a spot.
Back to faithful Jeremiah…
Pastor Mike has been teaching on Jeremiah’s life for 13weeks now, off and on. I was reminded this morning just how much I love this mans life – or maybe I just now realized it. Either way, he knew what it meant to be faithful. He’s called by God to be a prophet, to show nations there sin and draw them near to God, and to tell them that if they don’t – they will be punished. Because he does these very things he’s looked at as a fool, he’s pitied, looked down upon. He struggles physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually; and he’s had death threat upon death threat thrown against him. He’s a courageous, yet humble man. He runs even while in the valleys, and even when facing hardship and a curve in the road, he doesn’t give in or give up, he remains faithful.
I’ve longed to be like Jeremiah. The past 2 1/2 months have been terribly hard. Things have been placed in front of me that I’ve never expected. I want to lay it all before God, and realize that my part is only to be faithful… even when I want to give in and give up.
“Be strong, all you people of the land,’ declares the LORD, ‘and work. For I am with you,’ declares the LORD Almighty. ‘This is what I covenanted with you when you came out of Egypt. And My Spirit remains amoung you. Do not fear.’ -Haggai 2: 4-5
I just had some much needed time with Jesus this morning. I spend time reading the Word and praying every morning, and time in prayer every night. But, it’s beginning to amaze me that I never feel completely fulfilled; not that God doesn’t fulfill me. But, with every morning waking up, I realize that spending time with Him only creates more desire to spend time with Him; it only leaves me desperate for it again. I’ve never come to that point where it’s like “Okay, now I feel completely fulfilled, I’ve learned everything that I have to learn, I’ve come to the point where I can stop.” Friends, I don’t think we are ever going to come to that point. *grin*
One thing that has been circling in my mind during the past… good month, has been the reminder of how unfaithful I am. Just before getting my laptop to start writing, I started thinking about that. And I thought, or maybe I said it outloud (I tend to be one who does that often) “If I had one wish, I’d wish to be like Jeremiah.” Now, I don’t know that if someone told me I had one wish, if that’d be the first thing to come to my mind. But why would I possibly wish to be like Jeremiah? Not because he struggled, not because he’s written about in the Bible, not because he was a prophet…. but, simply because he was faithful.
It’s really not easy to be truly faithful, is it?… I know some of you are like “Well duh Teresa, of course it’s not.” I know, that’s obvious. But, seriously, it’s hard to be truly faithful, to be truly obedient. That seems to be a lesson that I just can’t seem to learn; I seem to keep having a reminder of how unfaithful I am, of just how hard it really is to be truly faithful. Or maybe it’s a lesson that I’m too stubborn to learn.
I feel like I’m stuck in such a spot.
Back to faithful Jeremiah…
Pastor Mike has been teaching on Jeremiah’s life for 13weeks now, off and on. I was reminded this morning just how much I love this mans life – or maybe I just now realized it. Either way, he knew what it meant to be faithful. He’s called by God to be a prophet, to show nations there sin and draw them near to God, and to tell them that if they don’t – they will be punished. Because he does these very things he’s looked at as a fool, he’s pitied, looked down upon. He struggles physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually; and he’s had death threat upon death threat thrown against him. He’s a courageous, yet humble man. He runs even while in the valleys, and even when facing hardship and a curve in the road, he doesn’t give in or give up, he remains faithful.
I’ve longed to be like Jeremiah. The past 2 1/2 months have been terribly hard. Things have been placed in front of me that I’ve never expected. I want to lay it all before God, and realize that my part is only to be faithful… even when I want to give in and give up.
“Be strong, all you people of the land,’ declares the LORD, ‘and work. For I am with you,’ declares the LORD Almighty. ‘This is what I covenanted with you when you came out of Egypt. And My Spirit remains amoung you. Do not fear.’ -Haggai 2: 4-5
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Losing Sleeping & Other Things : Part II
If you did not read Part 1 to thinks post... be sure to do so, and then come back and read this. :)
Its taken me longer to write part 2 of the last post than I thought it would have. My weeks had become filled with many things. Every day was scheduled for me last week and this weekend was finally a time I had to settle down. And to be honest with you, I didn't feel like pulling out the laptop and typing this instead of spending some time with close ones, more time with God, and finally getting a decent amount of sleep after 4 1/2 weeks of getting 3-4hrs of sleep each night. Those things seemed more appealing to me. :)
One of the othe reasons I can think of, is because I realize that once I type these words I can't take them back. That once I tell you what the nightmares have been caused by or what this huge passion and burden is; I can't pretend I didn't tell everyone who decides to read this blog. And I'm a bit in stuck in wondering how to go about it... so bear with me.
I'm not sure if many of you have heard of the man, William Wilberforce. 200 years ago he lived in Great Britian and abolished the Trans-Atlantic slave trade in all of the British empire. There is now a movie about this once young man, called "Amazing Grace." It's my favorite movie, if you have not watched it, do!
I heard about this movie a few months ago, somehow I came across it. When I heard about this movie and about William Wilberforce, I also heard about a very young man (he's my age, 16) Zach Hunter. Zach Hunter is a modern-day abolitionist. After a few months of looking into what he does, I became one as well.
Truth is, I'm an abolitionist. Those aren't the words that are hard for me to share... they actually come quit easily to me. The words that are hard for me to share are the ones that are used when describing what abolition and modern-day slavery has changed in my life, what nightmares I have had, what I've struggled with because of this, and what a few people have said to me.
There are atleast 27million slaves in the world, 800,000 of them being in America. Something that was abolished 200 years ago is still being practiced. Men, women and children in other countries are tricked into thinking they can get a job in their countries or America - when really they are being sold into slavery. These same people are working on agricultral plantations, brick kilns, rice mill factories, and young women and girls are being sold into brothels to be tortured and abused daily for the pleasure and amusement of many men.
I sat with all of these thoughts in my mind for weeks... weeks of keeping silent and not sharing any of these things with people. Keeping all of my feelings on this to myself; it hit me in a very personal way. But during my Christmas break I was hit with modern-day slavery in ways that I did not expect. I woke up a few days before Christmas to find myself in a cold sweat, a shaking body, with tears running down my face, and gasping for air. I woke up from a nightmare of seeing faces of those in modern-day slavery. I was so fearful that morning that I couldn't open my bedroom curtain fearing that I'd see the faces that were in my nightmare outside of my window. I kept silent until sometime between Christmas and New Years, then I finally shared this with a few dear people and family members at home.
Only days after sharing this with people I had struggled immensly with this. With these weekly nightmares, nights of no sleep, nights of pacing my room for hours, nights of telling God I didn't understand, weeks of thinking this great passion and unsettling burden was unbearable. But, after weeks of having these things in my company I felt as if Iwasn't doing anything. As if these nightmares, questions, passions, burdens, and nights of no sleep were not enough. I knew clearly that I could not simply change these things, these things that I now struggle with - but that I needed desperately to do something.
So, after a week of thinking and wondering what to do... I mentioned to a fairly new friend of mine, who I've talked to about this often, if I could speak everytime before her band plays at their gigs. Honestly... when she told me yes I told her that I had wished she said no. Because I'm fearful. This passion and burden are greater and more unbearable that I ever thought they would be. A few months ago I didn't even know about the unGodly injustice of modern-day slavery and now its become a huge part of my life. But, even with this fear I am still going to be speaking. I'm stepping out of my comfortzone, because it's not about my comfort, it never has been. Sometimes, I think to honor God, we have to do things that stretch us; things that we could never dream of doing without Him.
If you are a pray-er, I ask that you pray for me. These weekly nightmares, nights of no sleep, spending time with God and weeping bitterly because of this, they haven't ended... and honestly, I'm not sure they will. And I ask that you pray that I'd trust God with this, and also would know that fear should not over take such a passion and burden like this. I truly trust this passion and burden was God-given, I never would have sought out something like this. I'm desperate for prayer friends...
"No matter how loud you shout, you will not drown out the voice of the people!"
"We're too young to realize that certain things are impossible, so we will do them anyway."
"It seems to me, that if there is a bad taste it your mouth you spit it out; you don't constantly swallow it back." -Amazing Grace, movie
Teresa
Its taken me longer to write part 2 of the last post than I thought it would have. My weeks had become filled with many things. Every day was scheduled for me last week and this weekend was finally a time I had to settle down. And to be honest with you, I didn't feel like pulling out the laptop and typing this instead of spending some time with close ones, more time with God, and finally getting a decent amount of sleep after 4 1/2 weeks of getting 3-4hrs of sleep each night. Those things seemed more appealing to me. :)
One of the othe reasons I can think of, is because I realize that once I type these words I can't take them back. That once I tell you what the nightmares have been caused by or what this huge passion and burden is; I can't pretend I didn't tell everyone who decides to read this blog. And I'm a bit in stuck in wondering how to go about it... so bear with me.
I'm not sure if many of you have heard of the man, William Wilberforce. 200 years ago he lived in Great Britian and abolished the Trans-Atlantic slave trade in all of the British empire. There is now a movie about this once young man, called "Amazing Grace." It's my favorite movie, if you have not watched it, do!
I heard about this movie a few months ago, somehow I came across it. When I heard about this movie and about William Wilberforce, I also heard about a very young man (he's my age, 16) Zach Hunter. Zach Hunter is a modern-day abolitionist. After a few months of looking into what he does, I became one as well.
Truth is, I'm an abolitionist. Those aren't the words that are hard for me to share... they actually come quit easily to me. The words that are hard for me to share are the ones that are used when describing what abolition and modern-day slavery has changed in my life, what nightmares I have had, what I've struggled with because of this, and what a few people have said to me.
There are atleast 27million slaves in the world, 800,000 of them being in America. Something that was abolished 200 years ago is still being practiced. Men, women and children in other countries are tricked into thinking they can get a job in their countries or America - when really they are being sold into slavery. These same people are working on agricultral plantations, brick kilns, rice mill factories, and young women and girls are being sold into brothels to be tortured and abused daily for the pleasure and amusement of many men.
I sat with all of these thoughts in my mind for weeks... weeks of keeping silent and not sharing any of these things with people. Keeping all of my feelings on this to myself; it hit me in a very personal way. But during my Christmas break I was hit with modern-day slavery in ways that I did not expect. I woke up a few days before Christmas to find myself in a cold sweat, a shaking body, with tears running down my face, and gasping for air. I woke up from a nightmare of seeing faces of those in modern-day slavery. I was so fearful that morning that I couldn't open my bedroom curtain fearing that I'd see the faces that were in my nightmare outside of my window. I kept silent until sometime between Christmas and New Years, then I finally shared this with a few dear people and family members at home.
Only days after sharing this with people I had struggled immensly with this. With these weekly nightmares, nights of no sleep, nights of pacing my room for hours, nights of telling God I didn't understand, weeks of thinking this great passion and unsettling burden was unbearable. But, after weeks of having these things in my company I felt as if Iwasn't doing anything. As if these nightmares, questions, passions, burdens, and nights of no sleep were not enough. I knew clearly that I could not simply change these things, these things that I now struggle with - but that I needed desperately to do something.
So, after a week of thinking and wondering what to do... I mentioned to a fairly new friend of mine, who I've talked to about this often, if I could speak everytime before her band plays at their gigs. Honestly... when she told me yes I told her that I had wished she said no. Because I'm fearful. This passion and burden are greater and more unbearable that I ever thought they would be. A few months ago I didn't even know about the unGodly injustice of modern-day slavery and now its become a huge part of my life. But, even with this fear I am still going to be speaking. I'm stepping out of my comfortzone, because it's not about my comfort, it never has been. Sometimes, I think to honor God, we have to do things that stretch us; things that we could never dream of doing without Him.
If you are a pray-er, I ask that you pray for me. These weekly nightmares, nights of no sleep, spending time with God and weeping bitterly because of this, they haven't ended... and honestly, I'm not sure they will. And I ask that you pray that I'd trust God with this, and also would know that fear should not over take such a passion and burden like this. I truly trust this passion and burden was God-given, I never would have sought out something like this. I'm desperate for prayer friends...
"No matter how loud you shout, you will not drown out the voice of the people!"
"We're too young to realize that certain things are impossible, so we will do them anyway."
"It seems to me, that if there is a bad taste it your mouth you spit it out; you don't constantly swallow it back." -Amazing Grace, movie
Teresa
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