Gracefully Frank

For days, the words "Fishermen and Shepherds" have been running through my mind.  My sometimes not-thinking-too-clearly mind as I have been recovering from my first international food sickness. I'm choosing to not blog details about that, but the struggle was real. But, feeling mostly well again ...my thoughts now go back to fishermen and shepherds.

This is my I’m-turning-forty blog. I’m turning 40. Forty-year-old Haley Scully. Did you turn 40 one time? Are you going to turn 40 one day?

I mean 40. How did this happen? I’ve been watching my friends turn 40 over these past several months, so it’s not like I’ve had no warning. But, I can’t even believe they are 40. I would swear we were just 17. But, I checked my calendar again and it’s coming in like 6 days. Forty. 40. For-T. How old are you, Haley? 40. Ok.

It’s different than turning 10, 20 or 30. Not just in the number of years, but also in self-perception and social connotation. At 10, I was all about finally being double digits, Smurfs, rainbows, unicorns. At twenty I was coming out of some really hurtful times, I hardened my resolve and thought “I’m an adult now, and need to act like one.” At thirty, I realized “I’m really an adult now, and it’s time to get a handle on some things.” And now at 40, I no longer have a plan on how to act. Finally. I know what I know, and I have some ideas about what I don’t know. I don’t have everything figured out, but there is a Light to my path and I am committed to it. It has inexplicably guided me. I believe. No longer one foot on, one foot off. Not just a habit or what I grew up believing. My faith is mine because I sought the Lord. I am not looking for a path, person, place or thing to accommodate who I think I should be. I trust the Maker of the path is creating me as I take the steps He shows me … I’m a pilgrim in progress if you will, but not the bonnet wearing kind of pilgrim.  After 3 years of first beginning to read John Bunyan’s version of the progress of a pilgrim, I’m just now to the part where the Keeper of the Gate let Christiana and Mercy in. It’s a book worth the attention I’m finally giving it. It’s amazing how spot on it relates to today though written in 1678. “There is nothing new under the sun.” Ecclesiastes 1:9

However, when one turns the big 4-0, there are some questions that come up whether you are searching or not. Questions concerning reflection and vision like: Where have I been? Where am I going? Am I doing this right? Forty doesn’t feel like I thought it would. It doesn’t look like I thought it would, and I’m pretty sure it doesn’t mean what I once was afraid it meant.

It’s easy to look at the tangibles, the demographics, the statuses in our lives to try and justify, validate or prove we are doing life right. We can blame others for what we find, and we give others the glory. We can maybe take a peak around to do a little comparison… “I’m better off than them” or “I’m worse off than them.” We can look at lists we once created to see if we’ve checked things off. Have we achieved what is appropriate? I'm forty! Does my life matter? Have we made the decisions we needed to make? Have we become everything we wanted to be? Turns out you can’t be anything you dream of being even if you put your mind to it. I’m not Princess Leia. No one has asked me to sing the National Anthem at the Superbowl. I’m not a congresswoman for the great state of Oklahoma (yet). (but, maybe I haven't really put my mind to those things) My oldest is not graduating from high school this year. There is no wedding anniversary to celebrate. But on the flipside, listing all the things I am, have done, or am doing is as fruitless as listing those things I’m not when considering if I am doing this right …if I’m doing life right at this checkpoint.  I’ve been accepted as many times as rejected, although I tend to focus on one over the other. I’m sure there are more of both to come. I’ve had successes and failures. But, snapshots and spot checks on birthdays don’t define a life. Maybe you can relate to some of these questions or thoughts?

Everything I have could be gone tomorrow, or everything I want could show up. Maybe you’ve lost everything, or maybe you have everything you could ever want. We can compare and compete all day long, but when we finally confess we are not in control and only by God’s grace do we live and breathe and move, do we come to a place of rest; or should I say do I come to a place of rest as I turn 40 or any other age. So if comparison or competitions aren’t my markers for if I’m ok sliding into the big 4-tee, four-ty, forty … what then? “Vanity, vanity…”?

In the last few years, I’ve had to fight hard and dig deep through trials in my life and in my family, and as God has given me the opportunity to talk the talk in places I never imagined going. With trials and opportunity comes refinement. So, to refine and conform me to His image, as He carries me through trials or guides me through opportunities …He keeps leading me to cliffs to trust fall. He keeps lifting me off to new places.  He keeps exposing my weaknesses, to make me stronger. He keeps making me do, not just be. He keeps increasing my joy. He keeps setting me free. He keeps reminding me of His love right when I need it. Sometimes I limp down the path He leads me on. Sometimes He carries me. But, sometimes I fly.

What I do not have, or what I do have ...

Where I have not been, or where I have been ...

These things don’t define me or validate my life at 40. Don’t let them define you. That’s harder to do when you have everything you want, it’s somehow easier to do when you’ve been left wanting. Both come with perks and disadvantages; that we may or may not be aware of.

My life is defined by Jesus Christ. Whoever I am with, wherever I may go, I am His disciple. In plenty or in want; in a crowd or alone. My life is built on Him. That is what we are made for. I took some time getting here, but it doesn’t matter. My rebellion could never overcome His love and faithfulness.

I am also a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a friend. I could be better at all of those, but I find the better I get at being defined by Christ, by His life, by His guidance, the better I get at those other roles. As I turn 40 I want to be more like Him. I don’t want to act like an adult, I want to live like a Believer. I have said to friends, so I’ll type it in my blog, my 20’s were filled with trying really-really hard to be who I thought I should be.  My 30’s were filled with gracious tearing down and rebuilding to be who I was made to be.  And, my 40’s…well, I’m about to find out. I am looking forward to this next decade with a faithful and grateful heart.

I will give You thanks with all my heart;
I will sing praises to You before the gods.
I will bow down toward Your holy temple
And give thanks to Your name for Your lovingkindness and Your truth;
For You have magnified Your word according to all Your name.
On the day I called, You answered me;
You made me bold with strength in my soul.

All the kings of the earth will give thanks to You, O Lord,
When they have heard the words of Your mouth.
And they will sing of the ways of the Lord,
For great is the glory of the Lord.
For though the Lord is exalted,
Yet He regards the lowly,
But the haughty He knows from afar.

Though I walk in the midst of trouble, You will revive me;
You will stretch forth Your hand against the wrath of my enemies,
And Your right hand will save me.
The Lord will accomplish what concerns me;
Your lovingkindness, O Lord, is everlasting;
Do not forsake the works of Your hands.

P.S. All went as planned...

Sometimes I practice my Dirty Harry face.  I squint up my eyes and kind of squinch up my lips to try and look a little more tough, and a little less like a target as I walk through crowded streets in far away lands where the trees talk.  Our partners are always so attentive and try to protect me/us from people who may be willing to risk taking a chance on me to get my backpack or phone.  That kind of thing could happen anywhere, but there have been a few places lately where we had to think about it a little more.   I’ve been told I do not blend in well, so I do a little extra to look like someone that may not blend in, but is not easy to mess with.  I’m sure it works. Some times I sneak a smile at someone who’s eye I catch.  Especially if they are very young or very old.  Have I mentioned I love older people?  What if no one else has been friendly to them today?  What if they prayed for someone to just see them today?  It’s the Jesus and Glenda in me.  The Haley in me is all Dirty Harry faced and nothing but business as she strolls through your streets in her black knee high boots, that one half-price Dillard’s outfit she has to do training in and her purple back pack strapped around front so you can’t get into it behind her. All spice no sugar.

I got my first lesson in blending in many years ago during my first trip to New York during another lifetime.  I wore my cuuute red capris and a great shirt with some splashes of color on it.  It was my “I’m going to New York and I’m cute” outfit.  I walked into the office of my New York bosses and one of them looked me up and down and asked what other clothes I brought.  I assured her everything else was black.  The next day, dressed in black,  I greeted everyone who got on the elevator we were riding with a little “good morning” or “hello.”  I was told “we don’t speak to everyone who gets on the elevator.”  Noted.  Wear black. Don’t speak.  She was just helping me culturally assimilate.  Right? Right.

Today, I’m not wearing red capris.  Today,  I’m wearing my red Canadian Mounty winter coat.  I’m sure to culturally assimilate in this.  This morning’s 4 am wake up call came about 30 minutes after I actually woke up.  Tomorrow’s wake up call will be even earlier as we head to the next airport, the next plane, and next destination.  But, not just the next people.  My heart is already there.  I met these friends last year, and I’m so excited to be with them again.  These journeys can be a little stressful, but following Jesus wherever He leads is always worth it, and the people I get to call friends change me a little bit at every stop.  Sometimes I get a little distracted by the stress of the journey.  I really wish I didn’t waste that time.  I love this beautiful life and am so very thankful.  Sometimes stressful. Sometimes isolating.  Sometimes exhausting.  I’m not sure why none of my flights can be at a time that does not leave me feeling a bit like a walking zombie.  (I’m just assuming how walking Zombie’s feel) and (I don’t really believe in Zombies), but when I am weak…Someone else’s strength is more real to me.  I will boast in and be thankful for my weakness for just that reason. His grace is always sufficient for me.  (2 Corinthians 12:9)  I’m not nearly such a boss when I’m tired and cold and have some kind of inner ear/sinus thing happening.  But, He.  He is a boss.  The mountains He moves…  I pray wherever you are as you read this you might stop and ask where He is in your life?  Have you looked for him?  Jeremiah 29:13-14.

I’m at my fun friend’s house now smelling crock pot chicken and mashed potatoes. I've already started faking a Canadian accent.  It just happens, and I don't know how to stop it.  I’m all checked into their guest room, and am feeling at home, far away from home.  Happy sigh.

Flying into Canada looks a lot different than flying into South America… Here was the view out my window earlier today. I was a little intimidated by the forecasted temperature.  And it is cold, but it is still planet Earth.  People are walking around.  No one is a frozen statue as soon as they walk outside.  Groceries are being bought, coffee is being drunk.  Schools are in session.  Church doors are open.  Cars are driving around with people inside of them.  It's just cold.   I like it up here.

We arrived in Bogota well past my bedtime several days ago to temperatures in the 70's, sweet friends, and something in the air that made the space between my eyes swell up and my head throb. After a couple of Benadryl that expired in 2012, I was feeling better and ready for the week. Here are some sites as we walked to and from the church and our training events. 

A Market.

It was Sunday lunch time, and still Christmas in Bogota.

There is amazing graffiti in Colombia.

Bogota out our hotel window.

We had a few days of meetings and training with our partners from around this part of Colombia. I’m so honored to meet and work with these people. These friends. After our first two days of meetings and training we had some free time before our flight to Medellin for the next training. So our friends took us on a road trip to see the Cathedral de Sal Zipaquira. It was an underground salt cavern that has been turned into a walk through the stations of the cross of the Via Dolorosa.  The grand finale is a cross carved out of salt so high I can’t describe it. My first panic attack (in what feels like another life now) was in an underground cavern in Branson, MO (scary place), but this time there was no panic, no attack. I’ve been made new. 





My alarm went off this morning at 3:45. I thought I would dread that, but I was in the middle of a weird nightmare, so the alarm going off was welcome. Actually all three of our alarms went off at 3:45. We didn’t want to oversleep. So a melodic dinging, a buzzer, and the song 10,000 Reasons brought us out of our short nights sleep. We’ve got a flight to catch. The 8 hour drive to Medellin turns into a 45 minute flight when you lift off the roads that wind around the mountains and into the sky where it’s a straight shot. We met another group of pastors in Medellin who flew in from a coastal town in Colombia where they have begun a Hope ministry. Our first stop was a Hope Center near an apartment community. I speak a few words of Spanish, (“donde es el bano” being probably the most vital) but I understand maybe 2 words. So when meeting partners I pray a lot and become an official picture taker, hugger and cliché American trying to speak the few High School Spanish words I remember. We discussed plans for this week that would include a trip far outside cities I’ve heard of. It had already been confirmed a few days before we left the U.S. that I would not go on that portion of the trip. They say I don’t look Latina. (What?!?) A Hope Center counselor looked at me, not knowing I wasn’t planning to go, and said in her broken English “She has to hide her eyes in dark glasses and shut up.” They told her la gringa was not going. We laughed, and in my mind I drifted off to my happy place. Later, I was told the deeper reason why it was best that we not go. The pain that region has experienced is heartbreaking, and stirs up a lot of anger. I’m so thankful God sees their pain and has led the pastor who is now working with Hope to travel there and serve them. He cannot talk about them without crying. His love for them is deep and outloud. He is giving his life to lead them to Jesus so they not only experience life transformation, but they come to know the transforming Savior. Jesus is the point. Jesus is the hope. He is the reason for everything. 

The plan was to drive straight to our hotel (with hot water which is necessary to specify), but they decided we needed to see “el grande piedra.” I thought, a rock? But this is a little more than a big rock. It was worth the drive. We paid for it with a late night again, as it pushed our next meeting back a couple of hours. But, how often would we get to see that rock? I have a new magnet to put on my fridge to commemorate the visit. 

The Rock of Guatape.

Then it was training day. I love training day. It is when I get to experience God’s faithfulness in a different way than any other day. There are language barriers and cultural barriers and He breaks through them all. According to His word, I pray for His word, His leading, His presence, His will, and in ways I cannot always describe He does all of it. He leads the conversations in directions of His planning, because it certainly isn’t mine. It is such a gift to be so incapable (can’t speak their language, can’t relate to their specific cultural histories or perspectives); that we get to experience Him without the clutter of our own expectations through our times together. It grows my faith and courage to see Him work through us, in-spite of us. Sometimes we have language barriers even when we all speak English, and cultural barriers even when we live in the same town. Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding, (Proverbs 3:5) and cross some barriers.   

The training was in the first Baptist church in Medellin founded by American missionaries many years ago. I was tired, a little emo, and got overwhelmed thinking about the footsteps we were walking in. I am so thankful for their faith and courage. I wonder what God did in their hearts, how he united them, comforted them, provided for them, entrusted them to be there. I hope they get to see a glimpse of the church their faith built and the fruit of their labor there.  

Peeking into the sanctuary.

View out a window of Hope.

Medellin is surrounded by mountains, and the mountains are covered with homes.

A historic church in a little town called Santa Fe de Antioquia.

I’m home now. Met my family at church today. Sang “Jesus At The Center Of It All” with the people of the Church I worship with on Sunday. And I deeply rejoiced at who He is; and let those words sink deeper and deeper into my heart, praying they would flow out more and more through my life. Rejoice is a word I’m focused on this year. A woman at our ministry encouraged us to pray for a word, and I did, and this is the one that kept coming at me. I wanted my word to be Divergent, but it wasn't.  Rejoice is a great word.  As the Lord has graciously directed and redirected my life, He has helped me see more clearly and be better at thanksgiving (thankfully).  But, Rejoice is one I think I need to practice.  Rejoice seems like thankfulness kicked up a notch with gladness and maybe a little appropriate dancing.  The Bible discusses rejoicing in trials and suffering for we know the outcome, and also rejoicing in gladness and praise for the good the Lord has done.  Come what may, this will be a year of Rejoicing. Rejoice. He is truly the center of it all. 

I'll let you know how it goes. 

As I looked into the rearview mirror to pull out of my garage I could see snow.  I hoped that snow would not delay the first of 3 flights today intended to take me to a country in South America.  A new country for me.  I made it to Will Rogers; made it through security after getting called to the side room for a pat down, and then made it to seat 16A.  After an hour delay (not too long to mess with my next flight) and some de-icer sprayed on the plane… lift off.

I’m sitting now at one of those airport tables, with people speaking an Eastern European language next to me, a hot coffee in front of me, and words floating around in my head wanting to find a place to land. This is my first trip of the year, and my first trip leaving my new home. A beautiful gift of a place to settle into.  My heart is so thankful I am nearly nauseous.

My packing routine had to be redeveloped because I live in a new space with new doorways and rooms.  I still have clothes and shoes in bags in closets.  “Where will my suitcases go as I pack? What room will be my staging ground?” (the living room so I can watch a movie) “What movie will I watch as I pack?” (You’ve Got Mail) It’s always either You’ve Got Mail, National Treasure, Evan Almighty or Walter Mitty.  Don’t judge. I’m not necessarily proud of the cinematic genius of these movies, but I love them; and before a trip I need to keep things nice and light, maybe with a touch of adventure.  One might think I would be used to this by now, and so many aspects of it I am, but I still really have to quiet my heart before each trip and steady myself.  Once you’ve known the nearly debilitating (sometimes more than nearly) fear I’ve known, there is always a bit of a lingering thought that it will rise up again.  Fear not just limited to flying.

But, I don’t fear what I used to… I no longer fear not being in control (I've always had a problem with my conviction coming across as bossy, and sometimes masking my bossy as conviction.  I have one of those tones of voices.  I am still an organizer. In my own will it’s controlling, in submission to His will hopefully helpful and flexible).  I no longer fear death (before I’ve done everything I want to do). I still probably have some fear of the pain that could come with it.  I’m a chicken. I no longer fear if I am being a schmuck following The Lord (I am convinced of Him fully.  I practiced believing, taking those steps of faith and He has proven himself. He didn’t have to, but He said if I sought him with all my heart I would find him. Jeremiah 29:13).  I no longer fear if He is using me, but not loving me (careful who you listen to about your worth). I no longer fear if he will be good to me (in the way I want him to be good to me).  That is a quickly typed and quickly read sentence, but that sentence describes what has been the long dark night of the soul for me. And this past year, God in his Word, in his guidance, in his silence, in my soul has helped me lift off from that place. I don’t fear those who don’t understand me or reject me. I don’t fear not having a life I recognize based on my own expectations.  I am too busy rejoicing in who He is,  and living the life He has given, to worry about what He is doing. What a breath of fresh air for this sometimes prone to overthink-er.  That’s as gracefully frank as I can put it. One day, one flight, one trip, one life.

When we are sorting through our faith, working out our salvation, wrestling… it is like we are in a storm.  We are all scheduled for lift off at different times, based on our surrender and destinations.  Those who go ahead of us get to look back at us with encouragement and tell us to hold strong.  Even if you don’t fully trust.  Even if you still have questions… “is God real?” “Does He have a plan for me?”  “Is it good?”  “Will it hurt?” “Is it worth it?” I can encourage you the answer to all of those is yes.  Yes in your addiction.  Yes in your depression.  Yes in the work of your hands.  Yes in your relationships.  Yes in your singleness.  Yes in your __________.  It’s the good kind of hurt.  The kind that sets us free, and makes us stronger, and puts us on the right course. It’s always worth it, because He is truly God.  Your God.  Your Creator, and He is good.  And, He loves you.  And that means you may want to take some steps of faith, forgive, let go, be disciplined, step up, and lift off.

I lifted off in a storm this morning.  Maybe proverbially like one you are in today.  But as we rocked through the rough winds, thankfully we kept going; and eventually we lifted through the storm into the sunshine.  Be encouraged.  Hold strong.  Seek God.  Hope in who He is and His goodness, not in the answers you are looking for.  He may have better plans for you. He is faithful to give you what you need, to get you to the abundant that He promises.  An abundance not dependent on other people or other things, but an abundance in your heart and soul.  Abundance that transcends this life, all the way through to eternity.

It rained this week in Bolivia.  Everyday that I was there.  Except this morning as I rode to the airport with our Argentinian partners, driven by a Pastor who had become a friend.  Bolivia constantly made me think of Sri Lanka.  The palm trees, the buildings.  I’ve wondered if they are  along the same either longitude or latitude.  I can’t google right now from a cruising altitude of 35,000 ft to remember which of those is correct, and needing to remember doesn’t normally come up in everyday life. I remember a lot of other things though.  It was the assassination of Franz Ferdinand that started WW1, for example.  I still can’t get over Rasputin, or Coach Poole telling us about him. It was very hot and humid last week in Bolivia.  I’m a thousand times glad we weren’t here last week.

This was the shortest trip I’ve been on since beginning this season I find myself skipping through.  Six days.  I joked I only needed an overnight bag, but still brought a carry on and a half empty checked bag.  I could have survived with just the carry on, but I have a system.  Traveling to our Latin American partners is a lot closer than I am used to going.  A friend asked me if Bolivia was in Central or South America.  Uhh…  I can confirm now it is in far South America.  They speak Spanish, but it was more difficult for me to understand than it was to understand our friends in Mexico or Guatemala.  Like states in the U.S. different countries have different accents and some are harder to understand…even for a fluent Spanish speaker such as Yo.  But, I quickly came to know their hearts, even though this was the most difficult language barrier of any place I’ve visited.  Their love and care for us was a gracious blessing.  The Lord has given us partners and friends that are just incredibly wonderful people.  Of course people are going to usually be nice when they have visitors come to town, but every time I go to visit a partner, they go WAY out of their way to see our needs are abundantly met.  I’m so thankful.  They are grace to me in this journey.  Their hugs, their smiles, their tears all leave forever pictures in my mind and occupy spaces in my heart I didn’t even know were there.

Since this was such a short trip I didn’t have opportunity to have a day to see a few sights.  But we did have one hour one afternoon to walk around the city center of Santa Cruz.  I love seeing everyday life in these places.  Taking a few snapshot of sights, and breathing in the air, where I may never go again, but I did once. I got to see them.  The people in the city and on the streets.  I got to smile at them, say “buenos dias (morning) buenos tardes (afternoon) or buenos noches (good evening).   I get to take word of them back home.  And for some, share their story through Hope.  My favorite part of any trip is sharing with them what the Lord has sent us to share.  Giving them help and hope as they are surrendered to the Lord to help the hurting people around them.  Sharing with them what the Lord has equipped me with to share.  Not of my own wisdom, but of His and of those whose shoulders  I stand on in my family,  in the professors at Southwestern, and in HFTH.  All for Jesus.  It all begins with Him, and it is all for Him.  Our Hope is built on nothing less. No matter the country, the language, the hurts or the happiness.  What an amazing privilege to speak His name, and encourage trusting him in the midst of sometimes incredibly difficult places and circumstance; and with all confidence say he is faithful, he loves them and he is good.  All the time.  Just...I love this.

Here are a few pictures from 5 days in Bolivia…

Flying into La Paz.

So now I’m en-route  to Miami, then Dallas, then OKC.  I’m listening to Mumford & Sons.  I guess I will never ever ever get tired of them.  Ever.  I have an answer to what is the best thing you have eaten on these trips:  a homemade empanada in Santa Cruz, Bolivia.  The pastry itself was a destination of delicious.  It wasn’t just the vehicle to hold the filling.  It would win awards even if it was empty.  But, then the  filling.  Hang with me here:  chicken, raisins, peas, olives, egg….  Those where the things I could see and taste.  I don’t know what the seasonings were, but I’m not kidding.  Best thing.  Hands down. The wife of the Pastor who drove us to town this morning has a food stand in their little village where she sells these empanadas everyday.  She is known as one of the best cooks around.  Also, if you happen to watch Bolivian nightly news, I’ll probably be on it.  The Governor of all of Santa Cruz is on the flight with me, or maybe  I am on the flight with him.  I stood next to him in line with at least 10 television cameras aimed at him.  He said “buenas dias” to me.  I maybe should have fainted, but I just responded to him in kind.  Soooo….by bedtime I may be famous in Bolivia. And, also I may very well not be.

 Vaya con Dios Bolivia amigas y amigos.