iPads Like Loaves And Fish

This is a story within a story about the amazing ways in which God works.

About a month ago, I shared the following story with my church family:

I'd like to share a story with you from JOY Ministry where we share the love of Jesus with individuals who have special needs and their families. A few months ago, I was hanging out with one of our students in the Joy room during Sunday service. This young man has autism and does not speak, but has a very active mind and greatly enjoys his time at Joy. We were playing one of his favorite computer games when I noticed that he had stopped playing the game and was instead typing letter after letter as the computer repeated the letters back to him. 

As I continued to watch, I realized that while he could not speak, he could type out words. I asked our director if we had a text-to-speech program that he could use.  She had an iPad with an app that would read back whatever was typed into it. I began typing into it everything I said to this young man. Then, when he wanted something, I handed it to him and asked him to type out what he wanted. Next thing I know, he had typed out, "iwantgoldfish." I don't think we've ever dished up goldfish more quickly than we did in that moment. The iPad had given him a voice. Suddenly, he did not have to rely on our guessing about what he wanted. He could tell us himself. As I left that day, my mind raced over the possibilities. We now had a window into his world - a window that could lead not just to conversations about goldfish, but to conversations about Jesus as well.

As I thought about it, I felt God leading me to pray for an iPad for this young man and his family. I did not know how to make it happen, but could not shake the feeling that I was somehow supposed to help get one for them. I shared the goldfish story with my parents and they in turn told my 90 year-old grandfather. He turned to them and asked how much it would cost to purchase one. When they told him, he said, "I can do that," and pulled out his checkbook. A few weeks later, I was able to surprise this family with their very own iPad...and found out that it was something they had been praying about for a long time! It was an incredible experience to get to be a small part of God's provision for this family! I am constantly amazed by the ways He chooses to work through His church.

Through this process, we have learned what a benefit iPads can be to people with special needs. They are extremely portable and easy to use. And though text-to-speech and picture board apps, this piece of technology can give a voice to someone who is otherwise silenced by their special needs. Because we have several individuals like the young man in my story, JOY Ministry would like to obtain several iPads for use here at the church on Sundays and during Respite care. We are willing to look at any offer that's out there - old or new, donated or possibly sold at a good price. We want to give them a voice! If you are willing to contribute to this effort in any way - including cash donations - please talk to L__. No help is too small...if we all pitch in a little, we can work together to give a new voice to the amazing individuals who participate in our JOY Ministry.

Immediately after the first service, a lady I had never met before came up to me and asked where she should direct a check to help purchase the iPads. I was so excited that someone had been inspired to chip in! Three days later, the director of JOY emailed me to say that we had raised $725, enough for 3 (older) iPads. I was amazed. Two weeks later, she told me to sit down for the following story:

She had been walking through the church lobby and saw a gentleman who was new to the church reading one of the JOY brochures. She stopped to talk to him and show him the JOY room. He asked about the iPad effort, saying he had been there the Sunday I had shared about the need. She told him how excited we were about the three iPads she had been able to order. He asked if that was enough for the program. She told him it was a blessing, and when he pressed, admitted that we could really use two more. On his way out the door, he asked one more time if we really just needed two more. She thought about what we could do with four, but felt a check and confirmed the two because she did not want to ask for more than the knew we could absolutely use. On his way out the door, the gentleman handed her a check and said, "Here's your two more and a little extra." She opened it and it was for $1,000…enough for the four she really wanted!

I was floored (still am, actually)! God took a prayer, a simple story and the gift of my grandfather (who lives hundreds of miles away) and multiplied it beyond what I had dared to hope for - like the loaves and fish Jesus blessed so many years ago (John 6:1-13).  It's such a vivid reminder of how God can take even the smallest offering and turn it into big things for His kingdom.  No matter how old or young, rich or poor you are, never underestimate God.

Friday and Saturday in Guatemala

Yesterday evening I was watching a Beth Moore DVD and she talked about how some of the best writers will never write their greatest works because they do not have the discipline to finish what they start. Now, I'm not claiming to be a great writer, but it did hit home. I will finish this series (tonight!) ... and I will keep writing.

In my defense, a little something called Staff Training week interrupted life by bringing in my summer staff and 9 straight, long days at work...Anyway, back to Guatemala...

On Friday we finished up our stove installations and pouring concrete floors. That evening we went to "The Feeding" where the ladies of El Camino prepare food for the people who live in the landfill. Rice, beans and coffee are doled out from the church building in the landfill based on how many people from each family are there. If a family member is unable to come, a church member goes to visit them and to guarantee that everyone gets their fair share. The line stretches way down the alleyway as people wait for the good, hot food. It was a blessing to watch the church reach out and meet an immediate need for so many people.

Afterwards, we went to the construction site for the new school and prayed for the ministry that will happen there. By providing Christian education so close to the landfill, we hope to be able to break the cycle of poverty in the lives of many children. In the words of Pastor Saul's daughter Olivia, we hope to show them that there is life outside the landfill. Two years ago, the team sat and patted the dirt as they prayed, not knowing even if the permit to build would be granted by the city. And then, this year, we laid hands on the first story walls, and the almost leveled soccer field and marveled God's provision. He is so good.

On Saturday, we loaded up and headed back to the airport for the flight back to Atlanta. It was hard to say goodbye to the many people I had bonded with so quickly. It was an amazing experience to be a part of the global body of Christ at work in Guatemala and to experience the love and connection that come from a shared love of Christ. And, because the team and I were only a small part of that body, we know that the work goes on, even though we had to leave. I also know that I will see those people again, at least in heaven. However, if God chooses to answer Ingrid's and my prayers in the way we hope, it will be sooner than that.

Thursday in Guatemala

I fell off the blogging wagon a week ago Thursday. So, now I'm dusting myself off and am going to get back on to finish posting about the Guatemala trip... We'll pick back up on Thursday...

On Thursday morning, I went with the team that was doing VBS in the landfill. We teamed up with some of the ladies from the local church and gathered about 40 kids into the small metal building the church had constructed in the landfill. As the kids were filtering in, I wandered around the building saying hello and talking to the kids as much as I could. During this time, I saw three kids whom I will never forget.

The first was Christian. He was eight, vivacious and quite talented at shooting marbles. He attempted to teach me to shoot two different ways and enthusiastically chased down each one of my misfires that ricocheted around the building. We had many laughs as he patiently corrected my technique and had me try again. After about ten minutes of this, he sidled up to me, placed his four precious marbled in my palm, closed my hand around them and whispered in my ear, "It's a gift!" And my heart broke over his generous spirit. As much as I wanted to honor his gift, there was no way I could walk off with what was possibly the only four marbles this kid owned. I stumbled through a reply of how I wanted him to keep them in broken Spanish as I placed the marbles back into his hand, praying that he would understand how much I appreciated the gift even though I could not take it with me. Sometimes generosity at its finest is in the smallest gifts.

Then there was Juan. He was ten, had a great smile and the eyes of one much older. David, one of our teens, sat next to him and they taught each other different words in English and Spanish. As I watched their exchange, I couldn't help but notice Juan frequently scanning the room with a watchful eye. It made sense when at one point, he sat down on one of the benches with three smaller children beside him. When I asked who they were, he told me that they were his two younger siblings and his nephew. As I watched them throughout the morning, it was obvious that Juan was responsible for all three and he took great care of them. At the end of VBS, he gathered them up with all of their crafts and headed home. The next time I saw him, he was once again taking care of the younger kids. Still watching and still smiling.

Lastly, there was a little girl - I didn't get her name, but wish I had. She was no older than ten and was of a slight build. Strapped to her back in true Guatemalan fashion was her younger brother. He must have weighed fully half as much as she did, but she carried him with a smile on her face. And as she sat on the floor making her macaroni necklace, she tended him with a smile. When he fussed, she bounced him on her knee and when it was time to go, still smiling, she hefted him up and worked, with the assistance of some of the church ladies, to bind him to her back once more for the trek home. Great love, it seems, can also come in small packages.

These three will forever have a place in my heart and I pray that they will come to fully know the great gift and the great love that Jesus has to give them.

Wednesday in Guatemala

On Wednesday we traveled to the beautiful city of Antigua. We spent the afternoon there exploring and shopping among the vendors who all have a "special price, just for you" (and everyone else)! But, first, we spent the morning at the special needs hospital.

This hospital is home to over two hundred people with special needs, from children to senior citizens. Since I've worked with people with special needs in several capacities, I was curious to see how the facility functions. It is funded completely by donations and while the environment is sparse and reminiscent of the mental wards portrayed in old movies, it was obvious that the caring staff and volunteers did all they could with what they had.

We were there during Holy Week, so the people who were at the hospital were those whose family could not afford to come get them or who had no family at all. For a while, I hung out with Jessica, a young teenage girl with a beautiful smile. I pushed her wheelchair around the courtyard for a while and then we played catch with a ball. Jessica smiled and laughed from time to time, occasionally focusing her eyes on my face.

When she had to go with one of the nurses, I wandered over to visit with Andrea and her new friend Roberto. When Roberto tried to scratch his head but had trouble reaching, I scratched it for him, and in the process discovered that he loved to have his head rubbed. Everytime I stopped, he would grin and lean his head towards me until I started again.

Andrea also introduced me to Lionel, a 14 year old boy who weighed only 40 lbs. He looked only ten or so and had severe physical disabilities. He was brought to the hospital from a rural area by one if the volunteers. His family could not feed him and was under pressure to let him die because the other people in the area did not understand what was wrong with him. Like many of the others, he would not have a home, the care he needs or possibly even his life if it were not for the hospital and the dedicated people who keep it running.

Matthew 25:40 ESV
"And the King will answer them, 'Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.' "

Tuesday in Guatemala

As I look at what I wrote down about Tuesday, it just doesn't have the same spark that Monday did. Honestly, that is a good thing. Too many days like Monday in a row and I'd be wrung out. Don't get me wrong - Tuesday was good. That morning we returned to the preschool and did another day of VBS. Then, that afternoon we traveled to the Malnutrition Center near Antigua and loved on some kids there. These kids range from infants to young children and are brought to the center because their families cannot afford to feed them and so they are starving. The Center takes them in and puts them on a special diet to bring them back to health when possible. It is a unique partnership between the Lion's Club and the Florida Baptist Convention that keeps this center running and fulfilling this vital mission.

Many of the kids at the center are too young to speak and certainly don't understand English. However, that did not stop them from soaking up every ounce of love that the team had to give and then returning it with smiles, hugs and giggles. Sometimes love doesn't need words.

Monday in Guatemala

On Monday morning we went to the preschool for the first time. Kids swarmed everywhere - jumping up, hugging, climbing - there was so much joy and love in that one little building it seemed sometimes that it might burst at the seams. After a rousing song time, they dispersed into their classrooms for crafts. I was concerned that my camera might be a barrier between me and the kids, so I took the time to talk to them a bit before asking to take their photo. I was really touched when a little boy named Kevin took one look at me, pointed to a flower sticker on his sticker sheet and said "For you!" I helped him take it off the sheet and he promptly attached it to the back of my hand - where I proudly wore it for the rest of the day.

As the kids continued to warm up to us, they would shyly walk up to me and ask if I would take their picture and then they would want to see it. One of the little boys, Denny, was less shy than the rest and kept coming back for more photos. Inspired by the fun I had with Jessica the day before, I asked Denny if he would like to take a photo. Did he ever! Denny and I took photos of everything in site...Eddie the translator, the door, the plant in the window, Andrea and several shots of nothing in particular. Before I knew it, I was surrounded by kids wanting to take photos...and for the rest of our days at the preschool, one of my most used phrases was, "My turn, my turn! I have to do my job!" (Said in Spanish with an American accent.) Another lesson learned in the field - what we see as barriers, God can use as opportunities to show love.

That night, the guys from our team went to the Coffee and Bread service that El Camino holds for a local population commonly known as "the glue guys." These people find themselves homeless and broken because of their addiction to the glue they sniff to numb their pain. While they went, the girls stayed at the seminary and committed to pray for them the entire time they were gone. We prayed for truth and freedom for the people the guys were serving and Andrea gave each girl the name of one of the guys and challenged us to ask God for a word for him. My mind was so busy that night I wasn't sure that I was hearing God clearly and since I had been assigned Cliff, the youth minister, I was pretty nervous. But one verse kept coming to mind, "Be still and know..." Wait, was that for him or for me? I was trying to be still, but it was not working very well.

However, that was all I had, so that is what I wrote down and as I prayed for the guys and the people they were serving, I added a prayer that God would correct me if I had heard wrong. Before we had begun to wrap up our prayer time, the guys returned, banging on our door like conquering heroes bearing gifts of McDonald's ice cream sundaes. Grateful as we were, we insisted that they remain outside until we finished. Once we finally let them in, ice cream was handed around and they began to share about the service - what they had seen and experienced. It was heart-wrenching and many of them wept as they shared about the helplessness and gratefulness of these people held captive by glue. We knew then the weight of the prayers we had prayed that night.

Then came the time to hand the guys the words we had written for them. I could tell that many of the girls were feeling the same way that I was about handing over these slips of paper. What if we were wrong? However, as the guys read them, they began to share how applicable it was to what they had experience that night, and in some cases how it lined up with what God had been working in them for longer periods of time. To the man, each one was accurate and encouraging. Oh, the worship time we had together that night. God was present and had been heard by everyone there. Listening to God became a theme for the week and it was an incredible experience to watch all of these students walk out what they heard God speak.

"Before they call I will answer;
    while they are still speaking I will hear." Isaiah 65:24 NIV

More stories tomorrow...

Sunday in Guatemala

On Sunday morning we went to the service at Igelsia Bautista El Camino, the local church that was our host church for the trip. I was very excited to see the church family that was the core of the ongoing work at the preschool and the landfill. One of my favorite parts of the trip was working with other believers in a totally different part of the world. In spite of our many differences, we discovered many commonalities, mainly centered in our mutual love for Christ. It was so neat to discover that bond that crossed languages, cultures and oceans. And so, it was great fun to be a part of their Sunday service. My new friend Olivia provided translation throughout the service and I enjoyed seeing how my mental translation lined up with hers. 

Their service was not all that different from many I've experienced in the States and I even recognized a few of the songs. The people were so warm and welcoming that there was no awkwardness in being there. The biggest surprise came during communion (what a cool picture of the global body of Christ!) when I discovered that we were drinking purple Gatorade. I don't know if that is usual for them or if it was something they did for us because it was bottled (the water there tends to make Americans sick), but it worked! Overall, the best part was the realization that this was a small taste of heaven - believers of different nations and languages all praising the Lord together. 

After church, we traveled to do shortened versions of our VBS program at an orphanage and an AIDS hospital. It was a bit of a whirlwind working with so many different kids in such a short time. At the orphanage, I spent most of the time getting adjusted to my recently acquired gear and maxing out my limited Spanish with the kids. I found myself hopping from kid to kid because if I got too deep into a conversation, I would run out of Spanish words!

Finally, one of the older girls, 15 year-old Jessica, was willing to work with me when I couldn't find a word. She didn't speak English, but she would start listing off Spanish words until we found the one I needed to continue the conversation. When I found her sitting with one of the dogs and discovered that her favorite class in school was an art class (I just found out that it actually translates as visual arts), I knew I had found a kindred spirit. So, I asked her if she would like to take some photos with my camera. She said yes, and the photo you see to the right is one that she took of "Burro" the dog (Burro translates as donkey, by the way). I think she's a natural.

At the end of the day, I walked away with a new found experience of how God's love and kindness can cross barriers caused by differences and could not wait to try it again the next day.

More stories to come tomorrow...

Guatemala Photos and Recap

Guatemala April 2012, a set on Flickr.

I'm finally posting my Guatemala photos today. You can see the whole stream here. I wanted to have this done two weeks ago, but that didn't happen. There's something about zooming back into real life with work, commitments and that pesky need for sleep that somehow overrides the best of intentions. Half of them were edited on the flight back...and the other half were edited last night. And last night, as I edited, the faces, places, sounds and smells came trickling back from the edges of my mind bringing with them a myriad of feelings. The entire trip was phenomenal and it was hard to leave.

God's presence was tangibly thick in the youth group, in preschool, in the church and in the landfill. He worked in amazing ways while we were there. However, because we partnered with a local church (watch that story here), I know that the work did not start when we arrived and did not end when we left. That is very comforting. God is still working in Guatemala City and I'm grateful for the small part I got to play for the week we were there.

I'm not really sure how else to sum up the entire trip...it seems impossible to compress such a huge experience into words. So, I've decided to simply share one story from each day over the next week. After all, these stories are the building blocks of the whole and I hope they will provide a glimpse of what God did in and through our team four weeks ago in Guatemala City.

Four weeks ago today, at this point we were standing in line at customs, waiting for permission to enter the country. After an hour or so, we got through, claimed our baggage (well, everyone except Cliff that is, but he found his later) and walked out of the airport to face a huge crowd of Guatemalans just standing outside the airport. People where everywhere, starring, selling something or begging. Thankfully Allie and a team from the local church were also waiting for us. They gathered us up, sang a welcome song and then herded all 24 of us into vans and cars to take us to the seminary where we were staying.

My thought process at that point was something along the lines of, "Hola! Me llamo Mindy...Como se llama? Repita por favor? Oh. Mucho gusto conocerlo...I mean, conocerla...argh, I already messed up the whole gender specific thing... well, at least she's still smiling...(In pure English: Hi! My name is Mindy. What is your name? Say it again, please? Oh. It's a pleasure meet you. ((In Spanish, certain parts of speech have to match the gender of the person or thing you are referring to, something I find very difficult.))) Names and faces swirled in my head as I tried to figure out who was who and did what (I had only met the team I arrived with 3 hours before in Atlanta). As we drove to the seminary, I sat back and tried to take it all in. Yes, this really was happening... I had finally made it out of the country on a mission trip...and I could not wait to see what God was going to do.

To be continued...

Guatemala Video #1

Here is the first Guatemala video. Enjoy!



I will be posting more stories here soon...This video had to be finished for Lakewood's Missions Sunday (today).  Between meeting that deadline, work and attempting to catch up with the rest of my life, I haven't had the time to write or finish working on my photos...but they are coming...soon!

So far...

So far (since my last entry) we have worked in the preschool doing VBS for the children, assembled stoves in the landfill and visited children at a malnutrition home. I have at least a dozen stories to tell, but want to wait until I can do them more justice.

So far I have captured over 60 GB of photos and video footage, have discovered the peanut butter, luna bars, trail mix and black beans are delicious any time of day and have spoken more Spanish in there days than in all my years in school combined.

And so far the best part of the trip is the way God keeps showing up in so many different ways. From providing the local drivers who insist on carrying my camera pack for me (an huge, unexpected blessing!) to bringing salvation in the landfill, to using my camera becoming a tool for hands on ministry (here and now, not just later) and showing up in a powerful way in the midst of the youth group, He is continually amazing me.

God is at work and I can't wait to see what else He has in store.

No Words

The truth is that I want to blog, but I'm not sure what to say. I've seen so much in the last day and a half...we've prayer walked through the landfill and school construction site, attended the church we're partnering with, visited an orphanage and an aids hospital.

So much to take in and so little time to process. I don't even have the words in my own head...I think they've all been spent maxing out my limited Spanish.

But, this much I know, God is good, connecting with believers in another country is amazing and love doesn't require words.

Here we go!

I was hanging nose down thirty feet in the air, my fingers wrapped around the cord that could send me plummeting toward the ground. For a brief moment I looked down and thought, "What am I doing??" But that thought was quickly replaced by, "This is going to be AWESOME!!" I called out, "Pulling!" Jerked my hand foreward and heard the click.

I soared downward as the ground rushed up to meet me in a brief moment of freefall before the belay cable of the giant swing caught and swung me upward like a massive pendulum. I was flying, quite literally, by the seat of my pants. What a rush!

Such is a leap of faith. And as I stand here in the security line, I feel as if my fingers are wrapped around another cord. Same thought process, but this time I'm expecting even better results because I'm on belay with the King of the Universe.

Guatemala, here we come! Journey on!

Packed and ready

Finally packed! Just four hours of work in the morning...or, later this morning, rather...and the Guatemalan adventure begins!

Ven Conmigo A Guatemala! (Come with me to Guatemala!)

Yes, I am going to Guatemala! If you know my history with mission trips (described here in "Redeeming My Limits"), you'll understand how thrilling this is to me.  I really didn't mean to go a whole month without blogging, especially with such exciting news...but my last post "Don't Panic" was quite descriptive of how I was forced to approach the last several weeks. In the midst of an unusually busy work schedule, I nailed down the details of a mission trip to Guatemala set for the first week of April and was launched into the throes of making the dream a reality. Support letters were written late at night and stuffed in the van on the way to Dallas for a marketing event, lunch breaks and evenings were consumed by phone calls and research....It was incredible to watch the way that God pulled all of the details together so quickly, but I was scrambling to keep up with Him! The next right thing was all I could manage, but it was enough.

I cannot wait to share the fully story of how this all came about and what God is doing here - it is all very exciting, but will have to wait for another time. I will also be posting updates here during the trip (March 31 - April 7) assuming the internet connection is good. However, for now, here is a brief overview of the trip.

In a land known as Guatemala, there is a story that needs to be told:

“They say in Guatemala that if you’re born poor, you die poor.  The Guatemala City basurero (dump) covers forty acres of land with the city’s trash. Yellow trucks line up every day to tip their loads onto the heap, and residents of the slums outside the dump crowd around the trucks before they even come to a stop. Scavengers with the most seniority rush to touch the trucks’ sides — a flat palm against the cargo hold marks their scavenging space for when the trucks pull away, unleashing crumbling waves of garbage.  Along with the tons of trash are recyclables, and the lucky hangers-on get dibs on glass, aluminum, old furniture, and any other hot commodities that come pouring out. Regulars at the dump know which trucks carry trash from supermarkets and restaurants, so every morning is a race to grab up anything edible, or that can be sold.” 
[from Endeavors Magazine, January 14, 2008]

My home church in Georgia is actively working to change the outcome of the lives of these people who are born into the dump. For several years now, they have partnered with a Guatemalan pastor to both help provide for the immediate needs of these people and to help them rise above their poverty. Teams visit Guatemala City several times a year and provide services such as concrete floors and energy efficient stoves for the homes in the dump, sewing lessons for the women and VBS for the children. They recently helped construct a Christian school near the dump and are providing quality education for the children who live there. Their intent is to not just provide “fish” for these people, but also to “teach them to fish” for themselves so they can break the cycle of poverty for the next generation.

This trip is their annual youth mission trip to Guatemala and the team is mainly comprised of teenagers who will be spending their Spring Break serving the people of Guatemala City. My objective is to come along side the team and use video and photos to capture the story that is in the making – not just the story of this team, but the heritage of love and the prospect of hope in which so many people have invested both time and resources.  This is a story that needs to be told so that God may be glorified through the work that He is doing here. He is changing lives and saving hearts. The Lord is breaking through the chains of poverty in Guatemala City to give His richness of love, truth and tangible help to those who desperately need Him. My desire is that others who may never make the trip would be able see and experience this love of Christ in action.   My hope is the power of this story will inspire many to support and work with us so that God may continue to be glorified for generations to come.

Please be partnering with me in prayer as I prepare for this trip! Pray for the team that is going, the people we will work with and that God will give me eyes and ears for the stories that need to be shared. And please stay tuned...

Don't Panic

The view from the top of the zipline.

Something about spending a lot of time in a harness 40+ feet in the air changes your perspective. I began to see panic differently during the time that I worked in adventure recreation. One of my favorite places to work was the top of the zipline - a small platform perched on the side of a small mountain where I was paid to convince people that they wanted to step off into thin air (after being clipped into a heavy-duty cable, of course). As you can imagine, I had a lot of opportunities to observe panic.

Given the situation, it was entirely natural for people to have some sort of fear response. What they were about to do did appear crazy. However, I began to notice that they had an option of how to deal with the initial fear of the situation. They could put it in mental override, notice the safety precautions in place, listen to my safety briefing, ask any questions they had and then proceed to have a thrilling ride down the zipline. Or, they could panic.

Panic would occur when a person allowed fear to take control of their actions. It would root their feet in place, cause them to grab hold of the nearest object, close their eyes and shut down. When a person reached the state of full-on panic, it was very difficult to get through to them. Unless they decided to override their panic with reason, there was nothing that I could do to help them move forward. They were stuck and their only option was to go back. It was always very sad for me to watch someone climb back down the ladder because they would not overcome their panic. There was a sense of loss because I knew what they were missing.

On the flip side, there were the people who would instead choose to fight back. I could see the battle in their eyes. Something inside was screaming very loudly, "You're crazy! Don't do it!" But, something else was saying, "This is going to be awesome!" Sometimes there were tears. Sometimes it took a group of people chanting their name. Once, I even had a lady ask if I would pray her down the zipline. I said, "Sure! 3, 2, 1, go! Dear Jesus, I ask that you will be with this lady as she goes down the zipline..." I don't remember the rest, but it worked. She had the ride of her life. And I never once had someone come back and tell me they were sorry they went. More often than not, they came marching back up to the top, enthused and ready to go again.

Those experiences changed the way I handle panic in my own life. First, I learned that panic is a choice and it can be overcome. Secondly, I learned that panic does not lead to good results. Yes, there are times that fear keeps us from harm. But, panic shuts down the logical thought process that allows us to analyze a situation and determine whether or not a fear is valid. Third, I learned that the best way to combat panic is to do the next right thing.

For the people on the zipline, the next right thing was following whatever instruction I gave next. For me, it is walking through whatever next step the Father puts in front of me. Sometimes the big picture of life gets overwhelming and I feel tempted to panic. However, I am working on developing the discipline of praying through situations instead of panicking. Instead of shutting down in misery, I invite Jesus into the situation (very much like praying that lady down the zipline) and then do the next right thing, whatever it may be. Sometimes it's a small step ("Put your hand here on the tether") and sometimes it's a leap of faith ("When I say go, step off the platform"). And slowly but surely, the screams of "You're crazy!" are being drowned out by the voice that says, "This is going to be awesome!"


"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." 
Hebrews 11:1 ESV

P.S. For more on praying through things, I highly recommend The Circle Maker by Mark Batterson. It's a great read!

The Day That Pablo Got It Right

I'd like to introduce you to Pablo Erikson, descendant of the great Viking warhorses. In all honesty his heritage probably isn't that grand, but if you knew him you would understand the embellishment. Pablo is a character.

We became well acquainted on my first trail clearing ride at Glorieta. He was our packhorse and carried the chainsaws, fuel and other tools. When we reached the top of Baldy after a 4+ hour ride, we stopped for lunch and turned the horses loose to graze. Pablo, friendly fellow that he is, came over to see if what we were eating was more tasty than grass and took interest in my sandwich. I thought it was cute and hopped up to snap a photo. Much to my surprise, when I returned to my seat there was a large bite missing out of my lunch!  That was just the beginning... Pablo kept my life interesting by mastering the art of snatching Lefty's wallet out of his back pocket, fitting an entire lead rope in his mouth like a wad of gum, blowing out his belly to keep his cinch loose and giving me the innocent look when I came out of the tackroom to see what the disturbance was at the tie rail.

Known as the horse with the mohawk, he often lived up to it and was a real punk. But every now and again, the mischief gave way to a glimpse of something brighter. One of those times came on a day when the mud was so deep it was seeping into the tops of my boots. The trails were much too slick to ride and so I was filling my day with barn chores. About half way through the morning I decided to let the horses out into a small area of grass we had fenced off with electric wire for grazing. Since I was going to be at the barn, I could keep an eye on them and let them enjoy the good grass - a rare treat in New Mexico!

So, I started making my way out into the pasture, whistling and calling. The mud and muck were deep and slick and I slipped, slid and almost face planted several times. When I finally found a few of the herd, I started making my way behind them to drive them in, thinking all the while how much they were going to enjoy that grass. However, as soon as they sensed my intention to take them in, they snorted, wheeled and ran away into the hills. They thought I was going to make them work. I started to follow, slipped once more and realized that it was useless - there was no way I was going to catch them in footing that bad. 

Frustrated and muddy I headed back to the barn. As I rounded the corner to the catch pen, I heard a noise and looked up. There was Pablo looking expectantly at me, "Hi! I'm here! What are we going to do?" I laughed, patted his neck and led him out to the grazing area where he spent several hours with the grass all to himself (the stuff of dreams for that pony).

As I walked away, recalled that C.S. Lewis once wrote we are all like children who continue making mudpies because we cannot imagine what is meant by a holiday at the sea.  I wondered how many times Jesus had wanted to offer me green pastures and I chose mud instead. I'll probably never know in this life, but the day that Pablo got it right has inspired me to keep my heart open for any sea holidays that might look like just more work at first glance.

I'm Ok With Eight Out Of Twelve

Back in October I wrote a post called Story Bricks about how God had put it on my heart to start writing again and committed to posting once a week from then until the end of the year. Well, I just tallied eight posts in twelve weeks. Math isn't my strong suit, but that's not quite once a week. A few years ago, that would have really bothered me. I would have beaten myself up mentally for not making my goal and then probably quit writing because I was frustrated with not keeping up. However, the past few years have been quite the journey in grace for my go-get-'em perfectionist side.

You see, when you're put flat on your back (literally) with a severe injury, you receive a crash course in grace whether you want it or not. All of the sudden there are things you simply cannot do...and there are even more things that you should not do because the long term consequences greatly outweigh the any short term gain. And thus, you learn to say "I can't." I know...it's much cooler to say that "can't" isn't in my vocabulary, but bear with me here as I explain the way I've learned to think about "can't."

1. It's ok to say "I can't" when there's something greater at risk. For me this started with having to say to myself "I can't do ____________ without risking my ability to walk the rest of my life." Walking is pretty important to me, so that helped keep things in perspective. I've since learned to carry this thought process into other situations such as "I can't help with this wonderful ministry that needs help without risking ___________________ (blank being something important I know deserves priority)." This is important because if I don't prioritize I risk burnout.
2. Sometimes "I can't" is really "I can't yet." Recovery can be an excruciatingly slow process, but if you try to rush it, you can end up frustrated or - worse - re-injured. Growing in life is often the same way. It takes a slow, steady plodding and a recognition that you're just human after all (and you wouldn't look good in spandex anyway). You have to give yourself the grace to grow.
3. Having to admit that "I can't" opens the door for me to receive grace from others. I've always loved helping others but have been a bit resistant to receiving help. However, after being forced into requiring it, I've learned that there is something deeply touching when people truly help you. Often this means having to explain why you can't (as much as the situation warrants, anyhow) so that people understand what is going on.
   But I have been pleasantly surprised by how willing people are to both understand and help. From my college roommate who was willing to help me with things like getting boxes off shelves to my current roommate who is re-learning to cook with me after I discovered that I am gluten intolerant (even though she is not) and many people in between, I have discovered the quiet yet surprisingly rich blessing that comes in letting others journey with you though helping. 

In these ways I have put "can't" back in to my vocabulary and truly believe that I am better off for it. And so, I'm able to say that I'm ok with eight out of twelve. I managed to keep my priorities fairly straight during those twelve weeks. Also, I have learned a lot about my writing process, including the fact that my ideas have to "stew" for a while. I'd still like to get to where I'm posting once a week, but I'm not there yet. Thus, I will keep writing with that goal in mind and humbly ask for the help of anyone out there reading this to encourage me to keep going (comments are a great way to do that, btw).  Journey on!