Gracefully Frank: 2014

Today, what the Lord has been doing in my heart all week long, came together in one song. What has been swirling around in my head, floated its way down to my heart, swelled up to my eyes, and fell down my face as this song was sung way out-loud at church this morning. The Little Drummer Boy. Have you ever cried to Little Drummer Boy? I haven't. But I hadn't heard it quite like this before. In that place of worship, this song became personal to me. It's not just the little drummer boy that has a drum. Think about the words. Put yourself in the drummer boy's place as you listen.

Click here to listen and watch The Little Drummer Boy performed at North Church in Edmond, OK.

This is from the Christmas service a couple of years ago at the church I have been visiting here in Edmond. It is a lot like their performance yesterday.

But, I never asked for this drum.

I worked in Dallas this week. One day while we talked about where the Lord is at work, where He is leading us to join him...the conversation turned again to the only place my Dad has ever said "you're not going there," and meant it. But, this week it looked like doors were opening up again for that to be on my itinerary this coming year. My gut wrenched, and I got to again consider surrender. Would I go? Do I mean it? Am I in it for me? Or for Him and for them, whose prayers He is responding to? Would He respond to their prayers through us? Through me? There are thousands of reasons why that is a ridiculous thought in my understanding. But, what a gift that is, that He would answer their prayers through us. Would I trade that gift? (this isn't the drum I ordered) Do I love Him? Or do I just want Him to love me, the way I want Him to love me. Do I trust Him? "Go deeper..." By bedtime that night I knew it would not be my "no" that would keep me from going there; and by the next morning, it looked as if the Lord was making it clear to others there are other viable options. But, He had my yes again. Patiently, he had my yes again. "pa rum pa pum pum."

But, I need a different drum.

The more I go, the less I'm home. The more life moves on without me and I can't get a grasp on where my place is. I want Him to love me in a way that gives me a place that makes sense to me. But, every time a place I have longed for, or concluded was His plan, falls away, He roots me deeper into Him. My place, His answer, is beside Him. Faithfully, resting in Him. Trusting Him. Believing. Not what I can see, but in what He has said. Not what I thought He was doing, but in the truth that He is Lord of my life, and He has brought me exactly where He was leading. I have tried to maintain location, be where I thought He wanted me to be, say yes, let go, be strong, be vulnerable, be patient, be obedient, learn more, do more, be more. Build my alter of sacrifice to Him just perfect, so that He will be pleased with me. But, its not my works that pleases Him...its my faith. It's belief. He has definitely been guiding, and blessing me because He is faithful and obedience does lead to blessing, but many times its not to where or what I think He is doing. Was I wrong in my faith? No. I am sometimes wrong in my conclusions though. Life is constantly a surprise, no matter how predictable I would like it to be. A few weeks ago at church the Pastor shared the story of how Elijah trusted God so much that he poured water on the alter. (1 Kings 18) He drenched everything around it to display God's glory when He rained down fire on an alter where no man could have even created a spark. Friends, my alter is sopping wet. Any act of service I thought I could do to please him, any patience, any place I could go, it is all soaked. No plans are certain. Only faith remains. Letting go of plans/thoughts/understandings, trusting God, pouring water on the alter...leaves only faith. Faith is my one little dusty drum. "pa rum pa pum pum."

You want to hear this drum. Just me, and my drum? What if you make me play this drum, and it is the only drum I'll ever have to play. Will I still play for you? Even if its just you? Shall I play for you? When no one else can hear it; when I play it with weak knees and a hurting heart, do you still want me to play? Shouldn't I be a better player, before you hear my drum? Before you ask me to play for others? Shouldn't I love this drum more? I have been so ungrateful for this drum. Aren't You mad at me? Even when I have questions, doubt my drumming, and slip in prayers for a different drum...why do you keep wanting to hear this drum?

"Shall I play for you? (pa rum pum pum pum) Mary nodded...(pa rum pum pum pum)."

So I play for him. 'Me and my drum. I'll play for you. I'll play for you. Forever.' My drum is stretched and tuned by you, to Your ear, for Your pleasure, out of Your love for me. By faith I will play it for you. Wherever you want me to play it, I will play it for you, to honor you.

"I played my best for Him. (pa rum pum pum pum). Then He smiled at me. (pa rum pum pum pum)...Me and my drum."

Has your drum gotten dusty while you've been trying to do things, figure out things, build an alter, have been grieving, hoping, hurting, or have been distracted by things that sparkle and shine? The drum is His gift to you. Faith is what pleases Him. Without it, it is actually impossible to please Him. So, pressure off, soak the alter, dust off your drum, and play it for him in whatever circumstances you face, and whatever condition it is in. He is listening for the sound of your drum. He will take care of everything else.

This has been my gift this Christmas. This reminder, this freedom, this comfort, this joy. (pa rum pum pum pum.)

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Good morning jet lag. Life is really quiet at 3AM. After sitting in that quiet for a bit and drinking some coffee I've spent a little time putting words to pictures. I didn't have much opportunity to journal while I was in Istanbul for one training and Albania for two training meetings. My time in Istanbul was fairly short, and my down time in Albania was spent in pj's on the couch visiting with our partners there whose home I stayed in. Once I arrived in Sri Lanka where my co-worker and I spent a week and a half doing three 2-day trainings in three different cities, I found a couple of opportunities to capture a few moments.

I landed at the airport where my friend was waiting. We took a taxi to the ferry then walked through parts of the city to my hotel.

Istanbul

Gypsies in Istanbul.

Istanbul

Albania

The rains fell most of the day here in Sri Lanka. It's familiar to me now. The smell, the breeze, the way chai tastes a little more wonderful when drinking it to rain. Like drinking coffee on the porch when its raining at home. I arrived in Sri Lanka after a couple of weeks of already being gone from home. A little tired, and out of routine. But, this morning the Lord is bringing back to my mind His presence and why I'm here...because I love him, and I love sharing His hope.

I probably haven't changed much since childhood in one main way: when I'm tired, I can get a little cranky or be a little more prone to tears. And being away from home like this can create a deep tired...even when I'm sleeping pretty well and my hosts are wonderful. So this morning tears and cranky were on high alert. Slowly, but surely, he has begun whispering His love to me though. Through the rain. Through the hugs of those who say "welcome sister" with sweet smiles and open arms. Some of them have traveled four hours in difficult public transportation to be here this morning, and will sleep on a concrete floor tonight to be here tomorrow. They melt my tired selfish heart, and as we began a time of worship to begin our first training day in Sri Lanka I hear the words "Oh Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder..." My favorite hymn. It's the hymn I like to sing to Him when my soul is singing. It was appropriate to sing it today in Colombo.

Then the rains fell again. In buckets. While we were driving up very curvy mountain roads. We stopped again at the Pinnawella Elephant Orphanage. No elephants tried to kill me this time. Then on up the mountain, more rain. I wanted to e-mail and ask for prayer, but it was the middle of the night at home. We are 11 and a half hours ahead of Oklahoma. But, the Lord heard my prayers (I may have been the only one nervous), and we arrived in Kandy safe and sound. Kandy is an ancient city in Sri Lanka. It was the capital of the Kandyan Empire. It is a holiday today for Buddhists and this is an important place for them as one of Buddha's teeth was brought to this place after his cremation and they have built a very large temple for it making this a sacred place for them. We were not allowed to see the tooth.

This guy thought we were all there to see him.

After an overnight stay with friends in Kandy we were driven to Nuwara Eliya. The word beautiful just doesn't work to describe this area where the tea plantations cover the mountains here in Sri Lanka. We visited a tea factory and sipped tea where King Charles sipped tea once last year. It is called Mackwoods. I have a very important friend, whose middle name is Mack, that I have collected a new Christmas ornament from here to add others I have begun collecting for her. I bet Prince Charles picked one up for his tree, too. We stayed at a Swedish Mission House built many many years ago. It's one of those places that my memories of it will make me grow in fondness for it. Creaky old wood and smell, a wonderful cook, and mosquitoes that stung (bit?) my face 4 times. It was very cold, but with 5 blankets I was able to stay warm through our nights there. The drive into the little town where our next training was held was scary at times, but our drivers were very compassionate toward our occasional quiet scream or gasp. The trainings there were wonderful. Our Hope Center is working hard to offer hope and help to their community. They invited me to share the Sunday morning message. To a crowd of about 300 I was able to share about having a transformed life through applying God's Word to our life. Putting on the new self and practicing. The words "not by might, not by power, but by His Spirit" went through my mind and heart constantly. God is faithful, He will do what He promises through us. Right before I stepped up to share the message another familiar (to me) song of worship began to play...Give Thanks. You may or may not have heard of this song, but I have. And of all the songs in the whole wide world they would sing in this little community high in the mountains of Sri Lanka tea country they picked that one...God was reminding me of his presence through this song. I laughed out loud when they began to play it. When I was a freshman at East Jr. High, Mrs. Green assigned this song to me to sing at our state competition. I would play the piano and sing this song over and over to practice. I maybe can carry a tune, but I am not a singer...I got a low score for my performance at the state comp...but the song is forever ingrained in my memory. I remember how nervous I was for that competition, because I knew I was not a technical singer. I was nervous Sunday morning, too. Nervous to stand before these people and speak His name. He gave me a little gift of getting out of my own head and reminding me how big he is. That song. 24 years later standing there listening to our Sri Lanka friends sing it. Either that was "what a coincidence," or that was "our God is a mighty God." I know what I have chosen to believe. So I stepped up and shared the message He sent me to share. He was my confidence. I love how He does that.

Give Thanks

After church we drove nearly 4 hours on probably the most uncomfortable drive of my life. :) I was hanging on to the van through the open window for most of the trip. I was fascinated by the sights and sounds and smells as we drove through a cloud in the mountains, I was tossed around like a rag doll with no seat belt in the back of a van, and we only saw one rescue operation happening for a truck that had gone over the side. No big deal. They told us that doesn't happen very often. OK. Don't look to the right or to the left...just keep my eyes on Him. We made it. I sit right now in a fairly large city in Sri Lanka. When we first walked in last night and we met the director again, whom I met last January at an earlier training and she began to immediately cry. She is so thankful for this ministry. Through her tears she told us stories of how God has begun changing lives through the ministry of this Hope Center, and she asked us to tell June Hunt how much she loves her and prays for her everyday. She is so thankful for how helpful this ministry has been as she is loving her community and giving Hope to those around her. Me, too. She was worth the drive.

One more sleep, and we start the 7 hour drive, 4 hour wait in the airport, 4 hour fight, 1 hour layover, 16 hour flight, 3 hour layover, 2 hour flight then 20 minute drive home with one of my best friends who will be at the airport waiting for me. Thanks Tiff. You are always worth the drive, too.

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I'm not sure which are my real memories, and which memories are there from pictures...but either way I remember my great-grandma Hannah. As a little kid I remember thinking she is very old and we need to be careful around her. I remember her soft voice, her square jawline and that she always wore a hairnet over her silver hair that was arranged in waves on her head. She had pointy glasses that even in the 80's looked like vintage wear. I remember her as quiet. I remember seeing how my grandma Bonnie treated her and thinking grandma really loves her mom.

The home she and grandpa Monroe lived in still looked like a homestead in their little town of Nelagoney that really didn't look like a town anymore. Both were pieces of Oklahoma history almost untouched by the progress of time. It was a tiny house. I remember drinking milk out of bottles from her refrigerator and eating some of her commodity cheese; going out to look at the pigs across the fence, getting chased around by geese (or maybe they were ducks?) and eating pecans out of shells sitting in the doorway of one of their sheds with grandpa all before I was 7 or 8 years old. I don't have many memories with Hannah and Monroe, but the ones I have seem to come with sounds and smells and feelings. They are dusty like the Osage County road with a lot of cattle guards that led to their little house. The memories smell like Thanksgiving to me, and they kind of whisper like both of their sweet soft great-grandparent sounding voices. I feel a deep respect when I think of them.

For the past two weeks I've been part of training events in foreign lands. Some lands that look as protected from time as Hannah and Monroe's home in Oklahoma. After I left home a few weeks ago my mom posted this picture a relative had found and recently given to my grandma Bonnie. This is Hannah.

She is around age 14. We have never seen a picture of her this young. As I have been sharing with people again in these trainings about seeing themselves through God's eyes, her eyes in this picture just kept coming back to my thoughts, and I kept going back to look at her face and study them until I finally made her picture the lock screen on my phone. I wonder how Hannah saw herself through those eyes? How was she affected by the eyes that viewed her, and how did she pass that on.

Hannah Ellen Golden Robertson grew up the daughter of a very abusive man from a long line of outlaws, and a very faith-filled woman from a long line of preachers. Although she never shared specifics, she shared enough for us to know she suffered abuse in her early life. But then, Monroe saw her through his eyes, and after marrying around age 15, Hannah went from a home of uncertainty to a home she would share with him for over 60 years. She raised a houseful of laughing, tender-hearted kids who honored and loved her. She took the heritage of her mom, Ida's faith; and did not pass on her dad's abuse. From the stories I've heard she had a strong will to obey and honor God; one she passed on to my grandma Bonnie, and one my family has been blessed, guided and protected by. There have been many strong and tender women and many protective and devoted men who have come from Hannah and Monroe and their sons and daughters: Leroy, Leora, Bonnie, Kendall, Wayne, Jean and Albert.

After a long day of being driven in the pouring rain on narrow winding roads up a mountain I've never been on before, I'm sitting in the home of friends on the other side of the world from Hannah and Monroe's little homestead, and I just wanted to share a little bit of her --whose face I can't get over -- and thank God for His protection of her heart and her faith. I have come to learn not everyone makes it through as Hannah did. The faith of her children is a testimony to God's faithfulness to bless the generations who came before her and to the woman of great character behind those eyes.

Here is one of my forever favorite pictures. This is how I remember them. Even if I didn't know them I think I would love this picture. It was taken after sharing a lifetime together, celebrating their 60th wedding anniversary.

Hannah passed away about a year before Monroe did. He was in the hospital for several days before he died and was unable to speak. He knew his last day was near, but he still remembered an important date that was coming up soon. He asked for a pen and piece of paper. In writing as soft as his sweet voice we could read the words his shaky letters spelled: "Hannah and Monroe anniversary in heaven." It didn't get any sweeter than Monroe's love for Hannah.

I have liked having her memory and her picture with me on this trip. I have carried her through three countries now, and we have one more to go before we start back home.

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"The heart of man plans his way, but The Lord establishes his steps." Proverbs 16:9

One of the best moments of these trips is when I finally buckle into my seat on the first flight out of town. That's the moment I quit planning. If it's not packed, I won't have it. If I don't have a spreadsheet for it, a session plan for it, or an emergency plan for it...I will just have to rely on The Lord for it. (insert winky face here). When I buckle in, I truly understand I am at the end of any perceived strength or control I think I have. I just get to go along for the ride. Trusting that whatever plans I have made...He will establish my steps. What sweet grace this is to me. This life The Lord has led me to is not just about the work He is doing through me, but in his great love its also about the work he is doing in me. As my boss says "our greatest testimony is our own changed life. I am humbled to dust, and so thankful He is changing me. Coming to realize this God that I have thought just wanted my obedience, wants my heart. Wants me to know His love, and then share his love, unconditionally, with others. No comparisons. No guilt trips. No hidden agendas waiting around the corner. He loves us. He makes a way for us. He establishes our steps if we will just let him. My steps to Oklahoma. My steps to Zimbabwe, and whatever steps He has for me next. All for Him. I like this life. Unscripted, but not unestablished. Not unplanned. Just unknown by me.

I am definitely in one of my happy places when I have the opportunity to share the ministry resources and perspectives of Hope For The Heart. To see understanding in the faces in front of me, to see some well up with tears, to have them afterward tell me what they are getting from God's word and especially how they realize how they have not been seeing themselves through God's eyes, but are so thankful for this teaching, and to know where the work needs to begin...first in themselves and then in those they disciple and counsel. I would go all the way to Zimbabwe if I had to, to take this message to people...oh wait. I didn't write the book. God asked June to do that, and I am so thankful He did because I am a living testimony of the message of the book, and through this ministry He gave her I get to carry His message here. I want to be just as faithful to share this message at home. The need is just as great.

We are doing 3 2-day conferences in Zimbabwe and one conference in Zambia. Today is a complete day of rest. The first since we arrived that is not a travel or training day. I am so thankful to be still today. We did walk down to a shopping area for lunch and to walk through a little craft market. I am not feeling completely well so lots of water and probably an early bedtime before meetings begin again in the morning.

Some notes and pictures:

Harare smells like Osage County during burn season.
The people here are very nice and welcoming.

After we arrived in the capital city of Harare we drove (4 hours wide open with no air conditioner and the windows down) to a smaller town for our first two day conference. When we arrived our hotel did not have our reservations. They had rooms for us that first night, and then a cancellation for us to stay the second night. We found an African snake on our porch one morning. Did I mention the snake? The yard men killed it by throwing bricks at it. Then we had African snake blood on our porch. The conference went so well. The ladies are wonderful and so excited to have counseling help for their community. The Lord is growing their ministry there. It is fun to witness it and get to join them in the work for even a short time. I loved getting to sing and dance with them. I'm afraid I've got rhythm and I may start busting it out more often. Or maybe just when I'm in a land far far away. I love their music!

The hotel did not have a room for us the third night, so one of the people I'm traveling with spent a few hours trying to find us other accommodations for our final night there. A lot of places were booked, but there was an animal reserve right outside town that had opening....the catch was their opening were for tents down by the river. "I don't do tents." "I don't do Africa." "That is not who I am." My friend said..."I'm pretty sure this is who you are now...you are going to have to quit saying this is not who you are because here you are staying in this tent in Africa." Ok. I wonder who else I am that I've been saying I'm not? I'm sure The Lord will show me. The tents were nice and we had cots and a bathroom and monkeys all over the place. And a lot of strange animal noises all through the night. I was awake for a bit of it. Before we left the next day to drive to the next town we got to take an hour safari drive. We had been pretty nervous (I say we because it makes me feel better) about where we were going to stay that third night. But it gave us a little overnight adventure we did not plan, but were blessed with. Until the elephant tried to kill me.

During the safari we drove into a little grove of trees where three elephants were hanging out. Two of them moseyed over to our truck and started acting a little riled up. Our driver began trying to calm them down when the third elephant headed straight for me in the open air truck we were in. I was in the first of three rows. Our driver started to tell me not to panic as the elephant's trunk came into my lap. One of my friends began pleading the blood of Jesus over me as two others were laughing so hard they could not be of any assistance as I in my calm yet panicked voice just kept repeating "I'm very uncomfortable. I'm very uncomfortable." Thankfully the elephant did not snap my neck with the brush of his trunk. But he did get trunk juice on me before he walked away. Puke. But now I have slept in a tent in Africa and tamed a wild elephant. Right? That's how I am going to remember it. It reminds me of a time I almost got eaten by crocodiles.

The next training began the next morning. And again we were so blessed by both days and the way The Lord calls us and equips us. We left right after the conference to try and get back to Harare before dark because the roads here rarely have lines or road signs. So not only is everyone driving on the wrong side of the road, but there are no lane markings on the very busy highway between here and there. We only had about an hour to drive after dark and we made it safe and sound. Skipping dinner I went pretty much straight to bed.

Tomorrow we will meet with our in-country committee before starting the third round of trainings on Tuesday. The temperatures here are beautiful. Flowers are blooming and when you don't smell something burning you can smell gardenia and other flowers in the air. I like it here.

Walking to church.

On the road out of Harare.

Sweet ladies at our first training.

Part of our Zimbabwe Hope For The Heart Team.

Worship before the conference.

Our tent.

Killer elephants.

Killer elephants thinking they're hot stuff.

I love getting a bouquet of flowers.

Walking to our meeting. She was the first one there that morning.

I wish everyone could see Gertrude smile. She has begun counseling in the small village where she lives about 70 km away from where our training was held. Then she began walking 6km and 7km to villages neighboring hers because people there are hurting too, and she wants to take God's word to them. She meets with people under shade trees on the outskirts of their village. Sometimes groups and sometimes with individuals. She raises two children by herself. If God had asked me to come here just for her I would have. Just to encourage her heart. Just to hug her. And remind her as her sister in Christ that she is not unseen or forgotten. That she is loved with an everlasting love. To somehow maybe be part of sweet grace to her. She is beautiful. She would like to have a bicycle to make getting to people easier. She didn't ask for it. Our partner there mentioned the need. If you are reading this would you pray for her?

On the road back to Harare.

It's always difficult to put into words what my heart is beating out. Especially tired, a little puny and thousands of miles from home. I just want to always share the goodness, faithfulness and love of The Lord. Its not about the harrowing account of my taming a wild African elephant, but I hope you see the reality that God IS. It's not follow Jesus and you will go to Africa, but follow Jesus and he will give you new life. He will transform you, set you free, and establish your steps to be who He created you to be...His. Loved. Transformed. I lived a lot of years being someone I was not made to be. Sharing the story of my own changed life through Jesus down this road filled with challenges and sweet grace is the only way I know to do that. I hope it makes you want to seek him. This blog is not part of my job, its just my personal story, but if you would like to know more about the ministry that has brought me here, or find the book Seeing Yourself Through God's Eyes, you can go to the ministry website. www.hopefortheheart.com. If you get the book let me know and let's have coffee and talk about it. It's so great for small group or Sunday School study.

Ok. That's all for tonight from Zimbabwe.

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Yesterday.

"Haley, Haley you are worried and bothered about so many things; but only one thing is necessary..." When Jesus said these things in Luke 10 he was talking to Martha, not me. But, scripture is there to teach us how to know the will of the Father. And as I have been busily worried and bothered by the international and national news, trying to get presentations for my next trip that begins tomorrow ready, as well as personally pack and get my emotions and head ready to travel for two days straight, this scripture popping up in my quiet time this morning was perfect. "so many things; but only One is necessary." Only One is necessary, and like Mary I want to choose the right One. Only my proximity to him, will determine the value of my location, my words, my work, my love.

On Monday I spent half the day on work that I found out later had already been done. My bad. So on Tuesday I skipped my morning park and sunrise time (one of my favorite times of day) and went straight to my new office/2nd bedroom. I thanked The Lord for the reminder that I cannot do this without him, especially after wasting what in my mind was precious time on Monday, and asked him to give me clarity to get done what needed to get done. He did, and it is. Today I got a notice from the US Consulate in Zimbabwe that typhoid is on the rise in Harare. I'm at the laundromat as I type this out. I had mashed potatoes at lunch, instead of veggies. I am not done packing. I'm hoping my print job will be ready when I go back by there. They were swamped with people and work and one announced that if she did not get her smoke break she was going to start screaming. She maybe needed the reminder I received this morning...."you are so worried and bothered about so many things; but only One thing is necessary. Sometimes just saying His name is enough. Jesus. Perspective. Help. Hope. On the path of life with Him...it all seems to work out.

Today.

I'm at Will Rogers airport. My brother picked me up well before the crack of dawn to get me here. Thanks Chris. So far I've had 3 strangers ask me where I'm headed (that does't happen at DFW) and their faces kind of wrinkle up when I say Zimbabwe. "A lot going on over there right now," one guy said. Africa is a really really big continent, but from here everywhere is "over there."

I stopped by for a bottle of water and saw one of June Hunt's books in the airport bookstore. How to Deal with Difficult Relatioships. It's a good one. I'm going to DFW then Dubai then Harare. Then, in a few days, to Lusaka. Then in a few days after that back to Dubai, to Chicago the land back here at home in Oklahoma. That feels good to type out. That will take about 21 days to complete.

I always get a little weak kneed before these trips, anxious...but when I am weak....He is the One who is strong. Which reminds me of a little song...sing it if you know it.

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I've begun packing again. Not for a trip, but for a move. The move back to Oklahoma. Happy sigh. It was 7 years ago this month that I committed to moving to Texas and beginning that long haul at Seminary. And now as these boxes get taped up, I'm committing to move home. It's kind of hard for me to believe, but it is definitely happening.

I have certainly not been shy about how much I love home (definition home: Oklahoma, where I come from, the general vicinity where most all my family live - "most" is for you Lane). Where the waving wheat smells sweet. (Disclaimer: I haven't actually spent a lot of time smelling waving wheat in Oklahoma). Home is where my parents are. Where cancer is present, and even more importantly isn't present. Where my grandma's voice can still be heard in person. Where my brother and the 4 people he brought into our life, live and love and are in plays and ballgames and like to drink coffee on the porch. Where some of my life-long and favorite friends are a couple of miles away instead of a state and a couple of months away. (Some of my other favorite friends will remain here in Texas.) Home is where the Lord first called me, second called me and now for the third time has called me back to serve Him. That is where I am moving. The place where I can live life to serve the Lord, and be the daughter, sister and friend I love to be. Oklahoma. I know the step toward home isn't always the next one. I cannot type out words to explain how grateful I am for this to be the next step for me.

I had a friend ask me why I didn't just move there already, if that is where I want to be. I've had other people ask me the same type of question. My decision is to believe in who God is, and trust His Word, His plans and His Spirit to guide me. That when He says He has plans for me, for life, for ministry, for relationships, for purpose, that He means it. That it's concrete, not in theory, not in general to humanity...but for me (and for you). And I (you) can rely on His timing and trustworthiness to reveal it. I could have chosen to move home several times over the past couple of years. When Dad got sick, when other family were hurting beyond what I would consider reasonable. When I experienced difficulties and trials here. I could have said God would want me to move home. I could have dug to justify, and to run home. But, there wasn't peace. Peace came in the "be still." There wasn't firm direction. Had I gone home before, it would have been in my own strength, my own wisdom. Like a loving Father he would not have abandoned me...he doesn't do that. He would have still worked. He would have still shown me, but there probably wouldn't be the joy, like there is now, in knowing it's Him that is making the way. Instead of me digging one out. I have decided several times, that I would stay and root here in Texas, say "yes" to everything, dig in be present many times, but again His ways are higher than mine. A good reminder to not resolve myself to what I think is the plan, but to resolve myself daily to the Plan Maker. You don't waste as much time that way.

When I took my current position with Hope For The Heart last year, I thought that was the final plan: I would be in Texas. (I'm always trying to get to that final answer moment) I knew for certain on 8-16 that this job is where God was leading. I had no idea that this job, that I thought was locking me in, would be the very way God would bring me back to the land where I know He wants me to serve, and love and be loved, and live. He brought me to Texas, but from all the way down here, he kept making my heart new up there. I am not who I was, at all, 7 years ago. I am not who I was, at all 4 years ago. God is good. And faithful. He gives the wheat and the honey. Just like He told me He would. Getting to work from home, and move to Oklahoma isn't the proof that God is good or faithful. That truth was never contingent on where I live. God is good. Believe and See. The rest is just gravy. Good gravy if you will.

I'm so thankful to continue working for Hope For The Heart, as I move to Edmond to join the works-from-home crowd. Because of the nature of this work, and the heavy travel involved, my position has been opened to be a remote work position to allow me the opportunity to be surrendered to the work He has called me to, and have time to build into home and family. Now as I continue to go to lands he calls me to, Where The Trees Talk and Hope is needed, I will get to come home to the people I love. I will continue sharing about discipleship and transformed lives over there, and can live that out back here with the lives and family God has given me. I don't know exactly what that will look like...but, I know that's what He is doing. My life is transformed through my relationship with Jesus Christ and the power of God's Word. I'm not who I was, because of who He is. And I like it. I like to share it. I like to talk frankly about it. I like to show others it is possible. I live to honor who Christ is and His authority in my life through living out this change. I am getting to serve Him in ways that are incredibly difficult for me, and I love more than I imagined possible. And now I get to do that from home sweet 'homa. I might burst. I will still cross the Red River southbound often, thankfully. But, I like to drive, I like to sing in the car. I like to stop in Ardmore and get a coffee. I have a few deeply sweet friendships that I love here that I already look forward to seeing on my visits back, because I have already started missing them.

In our staff devotions this week we were asked what we think of when we hear the word surrender. I realized that 7 years ago surrender to me meant: giving in, loss, insecurity (leaving my job and going to school), fear...but I was committed to it, because He had made it so ridiculously clear. Surrender meant obedience. I thought mostly about what I would have to do in that surrender. But, the first words I listed on my paper this week were: release, freedom, new life, letting go. Like Elsa walking up a snow covered mountain. It immediately struck me how different surrender looks now. Now I think more about what HE will do when I surrender. It's not loss anymore, it's life. It's gain. One step at a time. Blind and weak; bold and certain. It's no longer just about obedience. I surrender, because now, even when its hard, my heart wants to be wherever He sends me. I don't ever want to be anywhere else; whatever wave He tells me to step on. (and there have definitely been some hard waves that have been scary to step on.) But, case in point, sometimes those waves are exactly where you want to step, and you kind of do the happy dance as you put your foot down. Guess what I'm doing right now. God is good.

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I'm back in Amman, Jordan, sitting on a patio because the weather is beautiful here with highs in the 80s and a really nice breeze, while listening to a sermon podcast on sowing and reaping as the Muslim call to prayer is ringing out overhead. My ankles and hair are showing and I'm feeling a little self conscious. Not everything has gone smoothly on this trip, but it has gone gracefully. I was not surprisingly wound up before this trip, I'm thankful again for the people in my life that walk and pray me through those moments. The flights were good. 9 hours to Paris. 3 hour layover. 5 hours to Amman. When I arrived in Amman I walked down to the luggage carousel with my new friend who was on his way to serve in a place where true hell is breaking loose. The Lord is softly and tenderly calling to him, but so far he is not ready to step on those waves. He can rely on his own strength to swim, so maybe he doesn't see the need to walk on the water. He does pray Psalm 144:1-2. He told me to look that one up and I promised I would pray that for him as well. I told him I am also praying that God would make His presence in his life very apparent and speak to him in those moments our prayers are answered so my friend will believe and know that God is with him. I pray his heart and mind would be transformed so that he doesn't have to fight the waves, but is lifted up to walk on them through whatever storms he is about to face. As he and I and about 9 others whose luggage did not arrive were ushered to the help desk, I was increasingly grateful he was with me. His liaison here in Amman spoke Arabic, and as they figured out what needed to be done about our luggage I felt taken care of again, a long way from home needing help, and it was there. That's when God spoke to me and reminded me He is answering my prayers so I will believe and know that He is with me. See how He does that. That's a good time. That kind of thing will make me go anywhere.

Today has been a nice day of rest and peace. Many times we fly in the night before training begins, but the flights got me here a day early this time. It is so much less stressful, and I am really thankful to "be still," here in Jordan near the place those words were first given us, and "know that He is God." This is a great place for someone who loves history and Jesus to hang out for a few days. I'm not seeing any of that history from this hotel cafe where I've had two cups of strong coffee, but I've been reading about it. You could probably turn on your tv and see more of it than I am. I can confirm that Jordan is actually here though, and that it is just an hour and a half flight from Baghdad and 45 miles from Jerusalem. That's just a little further than Ponca to Pawhuska. I can also confirm that God is here or else, as any of you who know me or have read this blog know, I surely wouldn't be.

Notes to self: Don't get sunburned right before a trip. Don't drink two cups of Jordanian coffee back to back with no lunch. Relax. Pray for my friends. Keep sowing.