The Source of Love

I am completely in love with my nephew Caleb. I can't get enough of his little face, the way he scrunches up his nose when he's sleeping and his long little fingers that he likes to wave around. I might never know what it feels like to love one's own child, but the love I have for him fills my heart in a amazing, unexpected way. Caleb has done nothing to earn my love for him (except being stinkin' cute). He has no idea who I am, and I have yet to hold him, meet him in person.

We rode the bus back from the border, which is always an adventure and most often not a pleasant one. I get motion sick (light-headed, dizzy and weak), and this particular bus was rocky and the driver perhaps adding to the constant swaying with his speed and whipping around whatever was in his way. Cambodians get car sick very easily too. One mother brought her little girl up to the front when the motor in the back started emitting a strong burning smell that was too much for her to stand (but this did not warrant a stop to check things out by the driver). When the little girl lost her lunch, the mother brushed it on the floor (um, right next to me) with a towel that had probably been used for the same purpose several times.

The emotions in my heart were anything but love at that moment. Honestly I was frustrated that she was being inconsiderate to the people around her, that she wasn't prepared with the little black bags they hand out for such purposes. I blamed her, and crossed the line into judgment, wondering how she didn't know you just don't do that.

Why was that my reaction? She didn't do anything to earn my personal scorn. Yes, it was a rather unpleasant situation, and I was not at my best either after the wear and tear of bus travel. But why is it easy to love Caleb and not this woman?

I was struggling a bit with this as I lay awake this morning. If I am to work in western Cambodia, there will be a lot of people who are like this woman. I am called to love them. Not because  there is a deep love in my heart for them but because God loves them. What if I had looked past myself, past the surface, to love the woman on the bus like God loves her? Would I have found a way to be more compassionate, instead of pulling back in disgust?

We cheapen love when we make it out to just be a feeling. In some ways, love is a way of seeing, seeing past the ugly exterior or the behavior that is contrary to what we consider to be right, to the heart of the matter. Isn't that what God did with us? He saw past the sin that covered us like a black slime. He loved us even while we were still sinners. His love for us is not dependent on us, how we act or look or what we do. That is the beauty of grace, the beauty of love that gave all on the cross for us.

There is probably no way I can love the people of Cambodia or even be passionate about their salvation on my own accord. It must God's grace and love that fills my heart, an unending flow of His love through me for those hard moments and even in the good. Oh that He would fill me with more of His love.

A New Measuring Stick

This is going to get real honest here, folks. I'm pondering the topic of beauty along with the other ladies at Velvet Ashes, and it has often been a bit of a touchy subject for me.

Why? Well, I think it is for a lot of us actually.  For most of my life I have not felt beautiful. I was the Sarah of Sarah, Plain and Tall. I classified myself in the "Not Beautiful" category in high school mostly because I didn't fit the definition in my head of what beautiful was. I wasn't like the other girls in my youth group with their gorgeous blond hair, cool jeans, pretty skin and detailed makeup. I had thick dark hair that wasn't curly and wasn't straight but a very uncooperative wavy. I did not have cool clothes or nice skin, and I didn't even start to wear makeup until my college days.

For many years I have operated under the impression that in order to be beautiful I needed to adorn the outside of me- pretty hair, pretty clothes. But, moving to Southeast Asia has really opened my eyes to a different kind of beauty. Or at least helped me see that we all have a certain understanding of beauty whether defined by personal circumstances or cultural influence. All the things that I used to use to feel beautiful were taken away in my new life: makeup, doing my hair, fancy clothes and jewelry. I have to live with the reality of a tropical climate, and honestly, who wants to spend 30 minutes straightening their hair when the humidity will just turn it back to curly in 10 minutes?

I was finding that I could be content with my own beauty, with no masks. And then it came time for our organizational worldwide conference at the beginning of October. There were going to be people from America there, people who actually stayed caught up on current fashions and would look much more put together than me. I struggled, looking in the mirror and in my closet and feeling incredibly lacking.

I fell on my face before The Lord and asked Him for a new measuring stick. My standard of beauty was always in comparison to someone else, some magazine picture or popular girl or elegant woman. But God didn't want me to look at all of those others and then put myself up against them. He wanted me to see beauty according to His measuring stick.

God must love diversity, don't you think? Just take a look around. The range of flowers with colors in every hue, animals of every size and shape, mountains and oceans. Every person is different, from their hair type to the size of their nose. If God loves diversity then why don't we? Instead of comparing myself to people, why can I not appreciate the beauty of the way that God has created them?

I saw a lot of beauty around me during that trip, appreciated the beauty in the amazing people that are part of my organizational family, in the gorgeous landscaping of the place where we were staying. It's freeing you know? It is changing how I look at myself and how I look at people around me. I don't have to be jealous of someone but can appreciate how God created them and compliment them sincerely. I can accept a compliment from someone without thinking, "They are just saying that to be polite", or feeling pride from their words. I can just enjoy a day to dress up and wear pretty earrings because I love bright colors and not feel like I have to in order to meet a certain standard.

In the end it is not about what we put on the outside anyway, but the beauty of a heart full of joy, a heart set on the glory of God. These things pour out of us as the very best "adornment", pointing back to the author of every form of beauty that we see and the One who is ultimately beautiful.

Fun Skirt Friday! Actually this was totally by accident, but our friends thought it was funny that my teammate and I dressed alike! Nothing like fun colors to add a bit of beauty to our day. 

To Baby Caleb

On Saturday my beautiful nephew Caleb Gideon was born. I could easily talk about this kid for 50 bazillion blog posts to come, but I will try not to. Although I must say he is about the most beautiful baby I have every seen!

With Uncle Josh

Caleb, I love that you get to be part of two amazing families. You have aunts and uncles and grandparents that love Jesus. Your mommy and daddy are two of the sweetest people I know, and they are going to raise you in a family that puts God first, that is full of love and full of fun too.

More than likely you will grow up in a country other than America. You will learn to love a culture that is different from the one your parents came from, you will have to discover how you fit in the middle of the two. I love that for you, little man, but I hate it for you in some ways too. I love that you will learn to be flexible, to speak another language, to have a passport before you even reach your first birthday. You are going to have friends from lots of different places, experience things most other kids don't get to experience.

But you are going to have to learn to say goodbye, and say it a lot. You'll probably spend a good portion of your growing up years away from your amazing grandparents and aunts and uncles. You will see hard things, things this auntie would much rather protect you from. You will probably see things that will be difficult to understand, and I pray your heart stays tender through it all. I pray that you will see that no matter what, God is good. No matter what, He is with you. I hope that you will grow to love your passport country and understand the amazing heritage that you have. I hope that you will learn to love and serve Jesus just as your parents are.

I hope that I get lots of opportunities to spoil you rotten, precious boy! You are so loved.

Your auntie, Sarah

{Lessons} Abide and Obey

Trees.

I grew up heading out to the cornfields when I needed a place to think, to clear my head. I loved the sound of the wind in the trees, vibrant green in the summer if we were getting enough rain and all shades of red and yellow and brown as the ears of corn grew dry and ready for harvest. In the quiet, just me and my Father and thoughts going every which way, I sorted out life and decisions and relationships.

I didn't realize how much I would miss the beauty of trees, of anything green. When the traffic and constant construction noises cause my head to pound and my heart to constrict and all I want to do is find a place to walk, out of the city and all that entails, a place of solitude to sort it all out.

I came back from our organizational conference last week with a head full of ideas and plans and a heart full of excitement and trepidation and fear. Vision casting? Praying more? Seed sowing more? Are you sure you called the right person, Father?

In the somewhat stillness of my room, I started drawing a tree. I have never been exactly artistic, but drawing even in the simplest form has been an outlet for me of late. As the tree took shape, the leaves bright green, I was reminded of the passage from John 15 that talks about the vine and the branches.

John 15:5-10 I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If anyone does not remain in me, he is like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish and it will be given to you. This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love.  

Abide and obey. Then the fruit will come. It is not my job to grow the fruit, or take credit for the fruit, this is all for the Father's glory. I need to abide, spending precious time with Him even if there are no beautiful cornfields or trees to be found. He is my resting place, my place of solitude where I sort it all out. As I obey what He is telling me, then the fruit will come and it won't be about pleasing humans or numbers or goals, but praise to Jesus.

Thailand 

Just Do It Scared

"Their faces look the same!"

Kristin and I are not unaccustomed to this comment overheard as we go about our daily lives in Cambodia; in fact we have random strangers from America now coming up to us to ask if we are sisters. This time I heard a woman selling coffee remark to her friend on our similar faces as we joined Jeremy, a colleague in town and Dacey, a friend from the home office, to walk and pray.

The little alleyway-turned-street was packed with various food and drink vendors, shop owners selling goodies in front of their homes and motos fending for space among the throngs of early morning coffee-drinkers.

I laughed a bit when I heard the woman's comment and paused to report the news to the rest of the group. "Go sit by her!" Jeremy said, and my insides twisted up. "Wait, what?" I thought. "What do I say?" But then I remembered a phrase that has stuck with me for the last several months: "Just do it scared". Too often we think we need to wait to share until we have it all together, and the fear has faded. Nope!

So, I turned around, and slid into the plastic chair next to the woman at the table as she sipped her iced coffee. Before I could get much farther than, "Hello, aunt!", she asked, "Do you know Jesus?" I smiled. "Yes, do you?" She went on to speak of who Jesus was to her, how He had healed her and her family and provided for their needs. She told us about the little group that met in her home and invited us to share Jesus along the river front with her. We delighted in getting to know her and praying a prayer of blessing over her as we departed.

God does not ask us to be brave because of our own ability, but to trust Him and hang on when He throws open the door so His glory can shine through!

* I am thankful for my friend Amie who orginally shared the phrase "Just do it scared" with me back in March.