martha and mary

"As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"

"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." - Luke 10:38-42

The Biblical story of sisters Martha and Mary has always been one of my favorites. I don't know why. I think it's because as a whole, it's very simple, yet it speaks volumes.

Sometimes I feel bad for Martha. After all, she's only trying to serve Jesus in the best way that she knows how - by being hospitable. I picture her stirring pots, sweeping dirt and setting the table with wildflowers all at the same time while Mary is sitting outside talking with Jesus. Martha impatiently peeks her head out every now and then, her temper boiling. How could Mary do this to her? And then, to add insult to injury, Jesus basically tells her to calm down when she complains.

I'd be humiliated.

But Jesus was making a point. Sure, he was honored and appreciated being invited into Martha's home...but instead of running around frantically concerning herself with numerous unimportant details, she should have been taking the time to simply enjoy his company. Not because he was anyone special, but for her own sake. Jesus wanted her to relax.

There's a time and a place for both things, working and relaxing, and sometimes it can be very difficult to find a healthy balance. On occasion, though, the two can and perhaps should be done together.

Tomorrow morning I leave for Colombia, this time with a challenge. For the next 10 days, I want to be Martha and Mary - not one or the other. Not that I've necessarily ever been more like one in particular when I go, but this time I want to be conscious of it. I want to spend this time working - serving the staff at El Camino, taking care of the children, praying for the locals and encouraging my team. But I also want to spend this time relaxing - not worrying, not concerning myself with the crap of life, just sitting at the feet of Jesus, listening to whatever God wants me to hear.

We don't need to get caught up in the things of this world. We don't need to get angry or upset about our circumstances. Instead, we can choose what's better. We can be still and know that God is God, and relax. And it will not be taken away from us.

updated photos

Wilson has sent us some school photos of some of the kids, as well as some amazing black and whites! Enjoy...


A group photo with Aldrin on the left and Wilson on the right. Not all of the children are here.


Wilson helping Felipe and Luis Miguel with their homework.


Emilio


Luis Alfredo


Ana Maria


Brayan


Cristian


Esteban


Fabian Arboleda


Fabian Losada


Mauricio


Emilio


Katerine


Jessica


Kevin


Melanie


Yessica


Jhon Janer


Juan Sebastian


Luis Miguel


Maira


Marcos


Miguel Perlaza


Miguel Angel


Oscar

steps

I don't know what God is up to, but i'm not worried about it.

Last night we called Colombia again, and were informed that Aldrin had left. My first instinct, of course, was to be really upset. Not only was i concerned for the children in his absense, but we had just begun to hatch a real plan to bring Aldrin here to raise funds for El Camino, which now seemed to be thwarted. If only he'd hung in there just a little while longer, I thought. If only we could have told him...

But that worry lasted about thirty seconds. Because in my heart i know this is not the end. I know that our plan was designed by God. He fashioned it a long time ago, and all we're doing is carrying it out. I don't care what obstacles get in the way, or what faith is lost by man, or how hopeless the situation seems.

Proverbs 16:9 says, "In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps." There is a lot of disheartenment going on around El Camino, and i don't just mean among our Colombian brothers and sisters. There is a sense of urgency, a lack of trust in the provision that God has promised. I think we can all relate to this feeling, having experienced it so many times in our own lives. We think to ourselves, "This isn't right. This isn't the way i wanted things to turn out at all. I had this vision, this goal, this dream, and where did it all go?" And we get so frustrated, so tired of waiting for the things that were promised to us that we just give up. We feel foolish for believing.

There's always a plan. Anyone who tells you they've never planned on anything is lying. They might not plan their lives day-to-day, but they're always thinking about the future. They're working towards something, they have hope for something. If they didn't, they wouldn't bother living. And plans don't have to be drawn out to exist; they don't have to be detailed or even entertained. You could be walking through the park one day and watch a dog tackle a little boy, sending him into fits of contagious giggles...and for half a second, a picture can flash through your mind of you with a dog and a child in that park and a pair of housekeys jammed into your pocket where your wallet is stashed, and that's a plan. You've imagined yourself in another time, another life, another setting, with more to fill your heart to the brim than you can presently claim.

It hasn't happened yet. It's just a plan.

Plans take steps.

Steps take time.

Time takes patience.

Patience takes faith.

We can plan all we want, but if we don't allow God to direct our steps, we're going to get lost. Days will go by, weeks, sometimes years...and we'll keep turning over the same rocks and discovering all the same trees, and eventually we're going to give up. We'll lose patience. We'll lose faith.

Children never lose faith. Even though funds are lacking, and even though staff are leaving, the children at El Camino remain happy. Talking to them over the phone, one would think they were completely oblivious to the status of things, but we know they are not. They simply don't worry about anything. Gabriela, too, maintains that she is happy and trusts that God will take care of them. And he does. Which is why i pray for El Camino and all who reside there and/or work there, but i don't worry. Because i know that he is looking out for them. He's not ignoring them, he's directing steps.

Delay does not mean denial. My pastor said that on Sunday, and it's stuck with me ever since. Tomorrow i meet with him to discuss the possibility of moving to Colombia for any length of time.

I'm not worried.

ready. set. wait.

I can't sleep.

There's a lot going on in my head right now, and a lot of it hangs in the balance of uncertainty. I've always said that the only thing i'm sure of other than God is Colombia...so naturally, when i'm not thinking about everything, i'm thinking about that.

What am i doing here? This is the question that has me stumped, day after day. I can ask myself about all kinds of other things in my life and what will become of them, but none bother me so much as this. If i'm sure about Colombia, then what am i doing wasting my time being unsure of everything else? There are children over there who need help, and i'm available and capable to give it...so again, what am i doing here?

I had a crazy thought tonight. Most of my craziest thoughts come to me right around this time, but it's not until morning that i realize how crazy they actually are. I figure i've still got a good seven hours at least before that moment hits, so i might as well milk this idea for all it's worth while my brain is up to it. Anyway, here's the thought: What if i moved to Colombia? I know i've mentioned the possibility before, but in the past i was thinking along the lines of maybe two months, if that. Now i'm talking perhaps four.

Winter in Colombia.

Why not? I mean, honestly, what's keeping me? I don't have kids or a house...my job will still be here when i get back...and the people i'd miss the most would either be happy and support me or join up with me at some point anyway.

I don't want to be brash, but the truth is, each day that goes by i feel more and more like i'm just biding my time, and for what? I don't even know. So maybe i didn't start off on the right foot in this stage of my life. If God's mercies are new every morning, then tomorrow i have an opportunity to begin again with a clean slate. And maybe all the things i hoped i'd be experiencing by now aren't meant to play a part in my life just yet. But if that's the case, then i'm wasting a heck of a lot of time being confused and stumbling around trying to attain them in vain when all the while i could be missing out on something wonderful, something truly important.

I don't want to let this opportunity go by. I'm young, i'm able, i'm unbound. If God can use me to serve somewhere, then i want him to. I saw a movie recently about a group of strangers who became connected while fighting in the war in Iraq. Most of the movie focused on their lives after returning home...those who survived, that is. While most of them struggled and faced trials and experienced tragedies and in the end found something meaningful to help get them through the daily grind of life, there was one young man who eventually chose to go back to Iraq and continue fighting. Not necessarily because he was for the war, but because he was for his men. He felt it was his calling to support them, to give as much of himself and his skills as humanly possible simply because he could. He was young and able and unbound. At first, much the same as i imagine most viewers felt, i couldn't quite understand why someone with so much potential for life in general would choose to jump right back into the fire when he'd been given the chance to escape. And i'm in no way comparing myself to a soldier, but now i think i get it. When this young man came home, he became horribly confused and unsure about everything he'd ever known. He tried to make the best of it, but his heart remained in Iraq. He knew that he could be used to serve somewhere, and so he went back.

I'm still not 100% sold on the idea of moving to Colombia. For all i know, the sun will come up tomorrow and with it, Reason. But i'm starting to wonder if Reason is just another term for Excuse in the Idiot's Guide to Kidding Oneself.

In imminence, i wait.

the dinosaurs are happy tonight

My mother and i came home tonight with these big old grins on our faces. We had just finished talking to Gabriela and a bunch of the kids at El Camino, who were enjoying their first real meal in a while.

Somewhere around 1:00 this afternoon, we had the money wired down to Gabriela through Western Union. By 4:00, she had already paid off her debt to the grocer and was food shopping for the kids. On top of that, welfare finally came and delivered 100lbs of sugar and 300lbs of rice. The immediacy of the whole process was simply astounding, and even now i'm amazed at how in fact God goes about rewarding the faithful. Not only does Gabriela spend every minute of her life running a large home and taking care of abandoned children, she never worries about where her provision will come from.

Needless to say, Gabriela was very thankful, and so were the kids. We used the speakerphone again so my mother and i could both talk to them, and boy is that fun. Hearing their voices and giggles like that makes me feel like i'm right there with them...sitting outside in the warmth of the evening, watching them eat dinner with such gusto. The little ones would be kicking their legs back and forth under the tables while the older ones would serve them milk or juice. All of them asked when we were coming, even though they'd been told already a hundred times. They thanked us for the food and said they loved us.

I realized today that i'm always going to feel incomplete without these kids...without Brayan and Emilio and Marcos and Cristian, Melanie and Yessica...all of them so beautiful and all of them taking up another little space in my heart. And if i ever start to forget even a tiny piece of all that wonderfulness known as El Camino, i'm just one phone call away from remembering.

Thank you, God, for always remembering.

true religion

Almost everyone already knows at this point, but here's the official statement: We're going back to Colombia. And by we, i mean myself, my parents and three other people from my church, as well as six people from a church out of Michigan. It's a large team and most are new to the mission field, so i'm actually quite interested to see how the dynamics of it will play out. We leave July 9th, but it's never too early to start praying for us!

There are a couple of updates, and i'll start with fundraising. The cost of this trip is $1500/person, which is normal. We put together another variety show and raised a lot of money that night, which was pretty awesome. We've sent out all our letters and started the annoying but necessary harassment rituals with friends and family and yes, even strangers. But the coolest thing i think we've done so far is find sponsors for each and every child and staff member at El Camino. We handed out these large plastic bags to people and after they picked which child or adult they wanted to sponsor, they went out and bought some new articles of clothing to fill the bag with. A bunch of people even wrote little notes, which makes me excited for them because i know they'll be getting a response back. I can't wait to distribute these bags in Colombia. This will probably be the first time the children have ever received brand new clothing at the orphanage, nevermind clothes they don't have to share...it's certainly the first time we've brought them. I can already see the looks on their faces, and that fills me with joy. For those of us who've been to El Camino several times, it's going to be a great moment.

Unfortunately, i'm going to bring the mood down a bit. We were informed the other night by Gabriela that the children have no food right now. El Camino is facing severe hardships, and they've been struggling for a while but when the children are going hungry, you know things are pretty bad. There are several reasons we know of why this is happening, and probably more that we don't know. The first is longstanding debt. When we went to Colombia in November, Gabriela owed some money to someone for shoes that she bought for the children, so we paid that off. Now she owes money to the grocery store, which is enough to prevent her from going back until she can come up with the money. The other, more major, reason for the financial stress is lack of support. El Camino is a non-profit home run strictly by donations, and last month they were surviving off of 40% of their usual income.

My mother's been keeping my pastor updated over the last couple of days, and he's been amazing, determined to find some way to meet the immediate needs of the children's home. All of us have been reminded of James 1:27, the guiding verse behind every missionary: "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress..." And so my pastor decided it would be best to wire some money down to Colombia, which should take place tomorrow morning. We'll be sending them money to pay off their debt to the supermarket as well as some money for food.

It breaks my heart to stand by and watch the children in Colombia suffer. And yet, we're not just standing by. We're seeing a need, and we're meeting it. And someday, when we stand before God in the new Jerusalem, as it is written in the book of Matthew, He'll say, "Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me." Not, "You read your Bible every night and went to church every Sunday." Not, "You never uttered a curse or lashed out in anger." You took care of the orphans and widows. You put their needs before your own. You gave even when you had nothing to give. That is the religion of the God i serve.

I'm not patting ourselves on the back with this story, i'm reminding us all of what is truly important in life. Mainly, i'm reminding myself. Why i choose Jesus Christ, and why i believe. Because it's not about rules or trying to reach impossible levels of perfection or earn my way to an afterlife. It's about love...accepting it, and then giving it away.

tomorrow morning

I'm awakened gently, seduced from sleep by the warmth of the rays from the early morning sun on my face and the miscellaneous signs of life taking place all around me. I stir in bed, but my eyes remain closed. I don't want to open them just yet. I want to enjoy this moment to its fullest, to savor every aspect of its existence, to pretend as though this is exactly how i'm going to wake up every day for the rest of my life.

Children are laughing. Little feet are slapping on the porch as they run right by my room. Someone is sweeping the courtyard, the swish of the broom nearly hypnotizing. Dishes are clinking in the kitchen and i can hear one of the staff kindly ordering a handful of curious children out of the house. I smell coffee.

Finally, reluctantly, i open my eyes. The sunlight is pouring through in such a way that it's making pictures on the floor with the shadows. Someone has drawn the curtains to the sliding glass doors that take up an entire wall in this room, leaving only the sheer drapery underneath so that i can see everything going on outside. Efraim is cleaning the pool, little Carlos at his side. One of the boys is feeding the dog in the backyard under the lime trees. And two of the smallest girls are sitting right outside my doors coloring and chattering in Spanish, where every few minutes another child skitters by shouting. Eventually, they start walking back the other way, hidden under enormous piles of clothing. It's laundry day.

I should probably get up.

I don't normally roll out of bed this late when i'm here (and really, it's still quite early), because every minute is precious and each one not spent with the children feels like a loss. But i feel the extra half-hour of sleep today will be worth it later when i've got the energy to give them my undivided attention for as long as they need it. You can't be lazy here. You don't want to be.

I take the world's fastest shower and hop into some clothes and wander down the empty hallway, past the kitchen and the living/dining area, and step through the open door into the day. I am immediately bombarded with children - one hugging my leg, one with his arm around my waist, and one jumping up and down with his hands outstretched towards me yelling, "Lléveme!" I bend forward and scoop him up in my arms and demand that he kiss my cheek. He does, and then i tickle him. The laughter that tumbles out of his mouth is beyond infectious and makes my heart swell.

This is the perfect morning, I think to myself, but this is only half true. When i'm in Colombia, every morning is the perfect morning. No, there's no thunderstorm, i didn't sleep till noon, and i won't be eating waffles for breakfast. I also technically woke up alone. But none of that really matters. It's true that i never know what to expect on any given morning when i'm here. I may be waking up at quarter to four. I may have to hand-wash thirty plastic dining chairs or fold laundry for thirty little bodies. I may be drinking papaya juice for the seventh day in a row. But it's all perfect, every bit of it, every time. Because everything holds meaning. Every morning i wake up and there's a purpose waiting for me, a sense of joy that there's much to be done and so many special people to do it with. I'm complete when i wake and i'm complete when i fall asleep, and even if my dreams are filled with worries and doubts and insecurities, with the dawn always comes a new completion.

When i'm back in the U.S., i don't experience this cycle very often. I suppose part of that stems from the fact that i honestly consider Colombia my home now and really, how could i expect to feel complete when i'm so far from home? But i hold on to the possibility, the hope that one day things will change and no matter where i am or what circumstances i'm under, i can wake up and think to myself, This is the perfect morning. And i can't help but wonder what that will look like tomorrow...a week from now...five years...ten years. Will i be alone or drinking papaya juice or watching the sun rise or cleaning up vomit? Will i be getting ready for work or crying because of a bad dream? Will i be making pancakes so big they'll have to be eaten straight off the table, syrup and all?

I don't know. All i know is, a wise man with a guitar once pointed out that tomorrow is a long time...so i hope my tomorrow is perfect.