Faith

Categories Following Christ, Missions

Tiempo menos doce horas (T minus 12 hours)

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Twelve more hours before my plane lifts off. I’ll be on my way. Layover in Houston, arrive in Laredo. A few days in Laredo and we’ll go down to Juamave. I’m leaving. It’s actually happening. A month in Mexico. Wow.

I can hardly believe the words that I see appearing on the screen before me. Mexico? It’s surreal. A month? It’s so long, so short.

I’m not a missionary. I’m not a traveler. I’m not anything spectacular. I’m not a teacher. I’m not brilliant. All I’m doing is trying to be obedient.

I don’t know what God has planned–which is why I’m going to have to leave the planning up to Him. From the first nudge in my soul ’til now, I have been apprehensive, doubtful, nervous.

How could I even dare such a thing?

I don’t think I really can. Instead, I must rely on God to do the daring for me.

Five and a half years ago, I stood in a wood in Kansas and stepped through a tree-door. I heard an invitation from the lover of my soul. He invited me to come and see. I had to leave my mundane, attractive, well-planned world. I had to leave the tame I’d always known. I had to fix my eyes on my wild man lover–and follow Him wherever he led.

Five and a half years later, I stand twelve hours from a plane trip that may well change my life. Maybe I’m over-dramatizing the situation–but I tend to think not. The last time I heard such clear direction, my view of ministry was transformed. The time before that, I came to understand justification–and had my shame taken away. How can this time be any different?

I don’t know what the next month may hold–but I know what my role in it shall be. I shall lock eyes with my wild man lover. I shall take hold of His hand. I shall respond to His ever invitation. I will go and see.

They said to Him, “Rabbi” (which is to say, when translated, Teacher), “where are You staying?” He said to them, “Come and see.” They came and saw where He was staying, and remained with Him…
John 1:38-39

Categories Everyday Life, Missions

Every spare moment

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In 9 days, I’ll get on a plane to fly to Laredo, TX. I’ll spend a few days with the family in Laredo while the kids attend a conference, and then I’ll be in Mexico. Until then, I need to spend every spare moment preparing.

There are some things that I just need to get done before I go–the two quilts sitting in the living room, the pile of library books on my desk, final arrangements for the 20S Sunday school when I’m gone. I have a date with a friend Wednesday afternoon to work on quilting. Nytejok had her baby last Friday–so I’m already late on that quilt (I still need to sandwich, baste, quilt, and bind it). I haven’t heard from Nyayan–but she’s due the 17th, so it should be any day. I only have to bind her quilt. Sunday School is almost all arranged–I just need to confirm everything. The library books, on the other hand…

I just checked my account and I have 39 books currently out. All are due before I’ll be back from Mexico. Some are personal reading: Dr. Seuss, The Essential Canon of Classical Music, books on environmental issues, books on managing allergies. Others are specifically related to Mexico: a Spanish dictionary, a “learning Spanish” book, grammar references, math references, reading references, spelling references, creative writing references.

The real task that’s eating my spare time? Preparing for any possibility. I have no idea where my student is at academically except that she’s fourteen years and she’s behind. She could be working anywhere from fourth grade level to eighth grade level–or be at multiple levels. She could have all sorts of gaps in her education–or she could be completely on track. I don’t know.

I know that they haven’t been using a set curriculum–instead they’ve been using a lot of internet resources. Which means I have no way to gauge what her education has consisted of heretofore. I know that Caroline wants me to focus on Math and English.

So, I’ve looked at a Middle School scope and sequence. I’ve determined the large scale topics that I may need to discuss. I’ve begun preparing review sheets–basically a text that I can use as a resource to “fill in” any “holes” that may exist. I have a long way to go.

Today? I reformatted a review sheet on using the dictionary. I began a review sheet on parts of speech. I started working on a summary of spelling rules. I read part of a grammar resource. I read part of a spelling resource. I played some Spider Solitaire on my computer–why did I do that? I don’t have time for that. I know I don’t have time for that.

I’m overwhelmed by the intensity of this task. I’m overwhelmed by how much there is to prepare, by how much there is to do once I’m there. I feel incredibly insufficient for the challenge. How can I even dream of doing this? How can I even think that I can impart something meaningful in one short month? How can I think that I can prepare something meaningful in one short week?

There’s no way. Which is why I’m spending every spare moment praying.

“With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” Matthew 19:26

Categories Faith, Missions

The stretching begins

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I’m going to Mexico in two weeks. I don’t have my plane tickets yet. I tried calling the family I’m staying with to check on what times it would work best for me to arrive (since they’ll be at a conference that week–and I don’t want to make them miss too much). The first time I called, someone answered “Bueno”. I asked to speak to Jim or Caroline. I heard the audible click of the phone hanging up. I call right back. Maybe they thought I was a salesperson or something. “Bueno.” “Hi, this is Rebekah Menter. May I speak to Jim or Caroline?” A torrent of Spanish that I can’t understand. Then they hang up.

I know it’s the right number. It’s the same one I called weeks ago and got ahold of them with. It’s the same one listed in their e-mail. It’s a Nebraska number that rings in Mexico–for Pete’s sake, it’s the right number. But I can’t do anything about it. I take a nap.

Wake up from my nap. Maybe I’ll try again. This time I’ll try out my Spanish skills. “Bueno.” “Hola, me llamo Rebekah Menter. Puedo hablar a Jim o Caroline?” I don’t understand the Spanish they respond with. I’m trying to think on my feet and I completely bungle my next question. Another Spanish answer–it sounds like someone else speaking this time. I try again. I speak in English this time. I’m frustrated that I can’t figure out how to ask them to give Jim and Caroline a message to call me. I’m frustrated because I can’t understand what they’re saying. Finally I apologize, “Perdon. Lo siento. Adios.” “Okay, bye” they say. I hear the click again.

I’m going to Mexico for a month. I leave in two weeks. And I don’t have my plane ticket yet. I’m not even sure the James’ are aware that I’m going to be flying rather than driving as we originally discussed. I don’t know if they’ve gotten my e-mail. I can’t get ahold of them by phone.

This is way out of my comfort zone. I created a three ring binder with descriptions of all the attractions in Yellowstone, a list of animals and birds to identify, and the most likely hikes to take for our family vacation to Yellowstone last year. I thrive on detailed itineraries and advance planning. I like to have something ready for every eventuality–but I like to know the way things “should” go too. I don’t have any of that here.

I know that God told me to go. I know that Jim and Caroline are expecting me. I know that I’m going to be tutoring their daughter. I don’t know when I’m leaving or coming back. I don’t know what I’m going to tutor their daughter in when I get there. I’m not even sure what level exactly she’s at. I know her age, but I’m not sure her grade level–and I’m even less sure about her ability level. Is she mathematically bright and an English dunce? Or maybe she’s an arts and literature person but not at all interested in science? I don’t know. I don’t know what curriculum or resources they currently use. I don’t know what subject matter she’s currently studying. I don’t know what books she’s read. I’m completely in the dark.

It’s incredibly uncomfortable.

I tell God that I’m having a hard time with it. He responds, as usual, with “Be still. I’m God.” But it’s awfully hard to continue to be still when the deadline is racing up and NOTHING IS CERTAIN! But, I guess, I have to learn to be like Abraham, to pick up my tents and leave when God says “Go”, even if I have no idea where He’s taking me.

Categories Faith, Rants, Reflections

You are a conqueror!

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Girls have a great longing to be wanted, to be desired, to be seen as valuable. Guys have great longings too. They want to be conquerors, to be protectors, to be providers. Both sets of longings affect their owners’ relationships with the opposite sex. When women are single for a prolonged amount of time (even if that’s only six weeks since they first got interested in guys!), they start wondering if maybe they’re unwanted, undesirable, worthless. Guys, when they’re single, start thinking that maybe they’re weak, powerless, ineffective, impotent.

We recognize this in women–and we have a hundred books and a hundred speakers to tell the women that it isn’t so. “You are valuable.” we tell our single women. “You are desirable not because some boy somewhere decided that he could get something from you, but because the King of the Universe wanted you so badly He gave everything for you.” Walk into any Christian bookstore and you can find plenty of resources for single women dealing with this topic.

The other side of the equation is a bit murkier. We don’t really say much to the single men. “Don’t lust.” “Don’t sleep around.” “Be a man–do what’s best for her.” Instead of encouraging the men, often we end up discouraging them. Our unspoken words sound more like, “You’re right, you aren’t really a man. You haven’t even got your own impulses figured out–how can you even think about marrying? You’re not a man–you don’t want to protect her.”

Maybe I’ve even been guilty. My younger brothers tease Anna and I about getting them some brothers-in-law and I say “That’s not my job.” I don’t clarify that it’s not necessarily the guy’s job either. So maybe the impression I’m leaving is that it’s the guys’ job to find themselves wives. If they can’t find themselves a wife–I guess they just aren’t doing their job.

Weak. Powerless. Ineffective. Impotent. Bad Provider. Bad Protector. Conquered. How often do we tell them that’s what they are? We rag on them for their lust–while we openly discuss “hot guys” and the relative merits of Colin Firth vs. Hugh Grant (okay it’s official: I’m getting old!). We play our little games of “You’ve got to protect me”–from the other Christian boys. We tease them with their powerlessness against PC culture–“Hitting you isn’t abuse. You’re a white male!” “Get yourself a date” we tell them, as if that’s all there is to it.

Why don’t we tell them what they really need to hear? Why don’t we say something constructive? Why don’t we tell them what God thinks of them?

Why is it that we’ve been so sensitive to the women’s feelings of being unloved, unwanted, undesirable, worthless–and we’ve been so insensitive to the men’s inner longings? Instead of affirming them in their manhood–we continue to tear them down.

Well, I’ve got news. You, single man, are a conqueror. You are a champion for truth, for righteousness. You are not a captive to your lusts, a bondservant to your base desires. You are a beacon of integrity. You are strong. You are effective.

You’re not a bad provider because you’ve failed to “PWN” yourself a wife. Rather, you’re a good provider. I’ve seen how you paid for someone’s lunch when she didn’t have any cash handy. I’ve seen how you denied yourself to move someone on that hot afternoon after you’d been working all week. I’ve seen how you volunteered for the sound ministry, the children’s church ministry, Royal Rangers, and ushering. You’re a good provider.

You haven’t failed at protecting–I’ve seen you walk that girl to her car when the night was dark. I’ve been the girl you walked to the car. Thanks for not worrying about what people would think. Thanks for not trying to be PC. Thanks for standing firm and protecting–even when the world would leave us helpless. Thanks for being men and lifting the body up in prayer. You may not have a “family” you’re protecting–but you’ve protected us–and I thank you.

It’s not your job to find yourself a wife–that’s God’s job. I’m sorry I ever implied otherwise. I’m sorry I held on to my “feminist ideals” at the expense of your self-worth–thanks for serving me anyway. I’m sorry I tried to manipulate you into doing whatever I wanted, that I acted as if your heart wasn’t worthwhile. I’m sorry that I spoke lies to you about who you are. I’m sorry I stayed silent even when I knew the truth.

Please forgive me for staying silent. I can’t stay silent any longer. Because the truth is that you are a conqueror. You are powerful and effective. You are needed. You’re not less because you’re single. You haven’t failed because you’re single. You don’t need to hurry up and get a move on. You’re doing just fine. Actually, you’re doing more than fine. You’re doing a great job. We need you. Keep up the good work.

Categories Everyday Life, Following Christ

Adios a los Estados Unidos. !Hola Mexico!

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I’ve kept my summer in the realm of possibilities for months now–since last October when Caroline told me that she was looking for a tutor for Rebekah. At that time, I didn’t know which internship I would get into. I didn’t know what my financial status would be. I’m not even sure I had finalized plans for a job during my hiatus from school. So a summer in Mexico was only ever a possibility, not anywhere close to a reality.

But today I finally made the call that changed it all. Caroline is expecting me to meet them in Texas in the middle of July. She’s expecting me to be there for a month. I’m checking on prices for plane tickets, comparing them to prices for driving down. I need to talk to my boss about unpaid leave tomorrow. I’m on my way to Mexico.

It won’t be a vacation–but it won’t be a “missions trip” either. It’s my chance to minister to Jim and Caroline and to their children. It’s my chance to bless their family. I don’t have a lot to give–my Spanish is somewhere along the spectrum of bad to awful, sometimes I feel my faith is incredibly weak–but I can teach. I can teach grammar and spelling and reading and writing. I can teach math and science. Maybe I can help them develop healthy eating habits as they’ve requested that I do. I don’t have a lot. I don’t consider myself a missionary. Nor do I consider this a missions trip. Instead, it is a chance for me to serve God by serving His people.

“I could do that” was the first thing I thought when Caroline mentioned the need. But there was so much uncertainty. Where would I be? What would my finances be? I couldn’t say anything and get her hopes up and not be able to follow through. So I waited. The sense I had whenever I mentioned the possibility was the same as I had when I’d first heard God tell me to go to Florida. I was excited. I was scared to death. I wanted with all my heart to be obedient. I wanted with all my heart for God to call me to do something else.

“Mexico–Lord, what about my Spanish?”
I was Moses’ tongue. I can be yours too.
But work…
Do you trust Me, Rebekah?

It’ll be an adventure. It’ll be hard work. It’ll be exhausting. It’ll be exhilarating. But God didn’t call me to have a bag packed for no reason–He called me to pack my bag so I’d be ready to go.

So, adios a los Estados Unidos. !Hola, Mexico! Estoy viniendo a ustedes.

Categories Everyday Life, Following Christ

…as to the Lord…

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And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not to men.” Colossians 3:23

I’ve always interpreted that Scripture to mean that I should always work as hard as possible–put everything I have into my work. But recently, I’ve been forced to re-evaluate that position.

We’ve been incredibly busy at work, putting in overtime and working at least six days a week. I’m blessed that my bosses have honored my decision not to work on Sundays–some of my fellow employees are working 8 or 9 days in a row before they get a break.

With the busyness, I’ve shifted into warp speed. I go into the dishroom every night about fifteen minutes before we close the serving lines and stay there until the last dish is cleaned, the machine is shut down, and the floors are mopped. It takes at least an hour and a half. During that time, I’m flying–running from one end of the room to grab some pans, rearranging dishes on the belt, putting pans on the line, scrubbing some pans for a while, zipping back to the belt, helping out with trays coming in, then back to more pans. Around and around I go, moving a hundred miles a minute. By the time the dishroom is done, so am I. Done for, that is. I can’t do anything else that evening. I’ve exhausted myself. I drop the moment I get home and can’t do anything productive until I drag myself to work the next morning at 11.

And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not to men.” If that means working as hard as possible, putting all that I have into my work, I’ve been doing it. But somehow, I’m starting to think that my original interpretation needs some tweaking.

See, when I’m moving a hundred miles a minute, I’m not doing it for the Lord–I’m doing it for me. I want to get done. I want others to see how hardworking I am. I want to take responsibility for everything. I’m doing it for the accolades. Ultimately, I’m doing it for my pride.

Heartily, as to the Lord. What does the Lord expect and require from me in regard to work? With what attitude would He have me work?

I did an informal word study on “work” today–and discovered that the primary reference to work in Scriptures is, amazingly, in reference to the Sabbath. God worked 6 days. Then He rested. Man is to do all his work in 6 days. Then he is to rest. What is the penalty for breaking the Sabbath? Death.

I’m beginning to formulate an idea in my mind. Maybe God doesn’t want me to give my all to my work. Certainly He wouldn’t have me be slothful. But maybe God’s plan is actually that I work diligently, with excellence, but in such a way that I am not consumed by work. I know we usually use the phrase “consumed by work” to refer to someone who lives, eats, and breathes work–and has no life outside of work. We use it to refer to a workaholic. But in reality, to be consumed means “to be used up, to be completely destroyed.” I’ve been working to the degree that work is using me up, destroying me. And that’s not honoring to God.

So maybe, just maybe, God wants me to not work so hard. Maybe He wants me to take a Sabbath–even at work. Maybe He considers me more important than my work, and wants me to do my work in such a way that I can remain healthy in the midst of it.

So this week, I have an assignment: to learn how to work heartily (with warmth and sincerity, thoroughly, completely, with zest or enthusiasm, with great appetite or enjoyment) as if working for the Lord instead of for my pride.

Categories Everyday Life, Faith

On being UNDAMNED

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“Damn you, Rebekah!” someone told me today.

“You can’t,” thought I. “I can’t, and neither can anyone else.”

I didn’t tell this person what I was thinking. But I was thinking, “I’ve already been undamned, by someone with much more authority than you or I.”

Damn

  1. To pronounce an adverse judgment upon
  2. To cause the failure of, ruin
  3. To condemn as harmful, illegal, or immoral
  4. To condemn to everlasting punishment
  5. To swear at

It just so happens that I have already been undamned. The adverse judgment that once was upon me has been removed. My failure has been removed. My condemnation as harmful, illegal, and immoral has been removed. My condemnation to everlasting punishment has been removed. So the last definition of damn, “to swear at” has very little hold over me. “What can separate me from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus?” Certainly not man’s damning.

Categories Following Christ

The Rains Fall

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It’s been a discouraging last several months–with so many things going on personally and feeling like the heavens are brass. Feeling like my prayers are unheard–or maybe I’m not even really praying–maybe I’m just repeating a ritual trying to conjure something into existence.

It’s been raining almost continually in Nebraska this entire spring. Many of the farmers are still struggling to get their crops planted. But my heart has been in drought.

Today, the rains began to fall–and I can’t say how wonderful it feels.

Instead of having a formal “class” in Sunday School today, we prayed together for requests and then headed out into pre-service prayer for a time of personally seeking God. God led me to Jeremiah 29–my life verses.

Verse 10 says “After 70 years are completed at Babylon, I will visit you and perform my good word toward you.” Wow. How quick I am to doubt that God will fulfill His word–yet the Jews had to wait 70 years for their return from captivity.

Verse 11 gives hope: “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you…thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” God reminded me not to despair–His plans for me haven’t changed. The thoughts that He has toward me still include a future and a hope.

Verses 12-14 echo the inklings God has been speaking through Matthew–“And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart. I will be found by you…” God isn’t so far off that He will not be found. When I ask, I will receive. When I seek, I will find. He opens the door to me when I knock.

Finally, God took me back to Matthew 6:25-34 for the bottom line: “Do not worry. I am God. Seek Me.”

Amen

Categories Faith, Family & Friends, Reflections

Love Languages

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Looking at “Love Languages” comes and goes in popularity at my church. We hear a bit about it and then hear nothing for a long while before we hear it again. Each of the times it rises again, I take the test again, hoping to ascertain my personal “love language”. Every time, I am disappointed–as with every attempt to categorize myself, I find that I am on the border–or maybe I just want to think I’m different so I intentionally sabotage the results.

Then there are those people you can immediately place into a category–not because they are stereotypical, but because they abound so very much in that certain area. My friend Michelle jumps to mind. I don’t know how anybody who thinks about it could not see that her love language is gifts.

I’ve been helping Michelle move this last week–and as we’ve been packing or unpacking, she’ll find something she no longer wants and offer it to me. Or she’ll think of someone else who could use it. “This will be perfect for…” “I bought this for… but I forgot about it…so now I’ll give it to…” “Do you think … would enjoy this?” She’s so generous with everything–abounding in giving.

She reminds me of the chapter in II Corinthians where Paul speaks of the generosity of the Macedonians “that in a great trial of affliction…their deep poverty abounded in the riches of their liberality. for I bear witness that according to their ability, yes, and beyond their ability, they were freely willing…” (II Corinthians 8:2-3) Michelle is far from rich–she lives on government assistance and disability. She has what she needs–just barely. But even as she experiences want, even as she struggles under huge physical and emotional burdens, she searches out ways to shower gifts on others. She’ll go without so that she can give. That’s just the kind of person she is.

That’s certainly not my love language. I like giving gifts, and I like receiving them. But they’re not a way of life with me. I’m not sure what my love language is. I used to think that it was physical touch. I was always a very physically affectionate child–wanting hugs and kisses and sharing nose juice with Daddy (Eskimo kisses). My brother John’s love language is definitely physical touch–and that hasn’t lessened as he’s grown older. I don’t think my language is acts of service–that’s my Mom’s and I’m nothing like her on that count. I like to do stuff for people–but I generally don’t like receiving acts of service much–or at least, it doesn’t communicate love to me like it does to her. Which leaves quality time and words of affirmation. And those two are hard to determine between. I love spending time with people–I love a good quality chat–a chat of hearts to hearts and minds to minds. I like to do things together–like quilting with Joanna, or scrapbooking with Debbie, or eating lunch with my Dad. But I also really value the words–when someone recognizes something I’ve done, when my Dad compares me to my favorite role models, when I’m told that I matter.

I guess it isn’t so important that I know my own as it is that I know others–after all, what good does it do to know my own love language? A Love Language is something that one speaks involuntarily. I don’t need to learn how to speak my own language. Instead, I must seek to learn others’ languages–so that I can translate the love that I might easily speak in my own language into a language they can understand.

So tell me, what’s your language?

Categories Following Christ, Reflections

Questions, Comments, Observations?

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In our 20s Sunday School, I’m fond of asking for “questions, comments, observations?” as we read each passage. But sometimes I forget to answer my own questions when I’m doing my personal reading. I read the word as I would a novel, taking it as it comes, doing it to pass time–or because “I’m reading every book in Eiseley Library.

I want to know God, to have an encounter with Him in the Word. I want to see God and to hear His voice through the Word. I want the Word to come alive. But it doesn’t seem that it is so–and even asking for it seems so often to be another dry religious ritual. Either I’m passionlessly asking for passion, or I’m conjuring emotion. It feels fake.

Sunday morning in Sunday school, I shared a bit of my struggles with the class–that just happened to be Debbie and two of my brothers. And I resolved yesterday that I was going to keep on seeking, keep on knocking. I resolved that even if I go through the flames, I will worship God and Him only.

Last night I read Matthew 4–and for the first time in a long time, I asked myself for questions, comments, and observations. And, to my surprise, I discovered a lot.

For instance, have you ever noticed that verse says that Jesus was “led by the Spirit into the wilderness”? The Spirit was leading; Jesus was following–and He ended up in the wilderness. So often when I end up in a wilderness, I get depressed because I figure that either the Spirit isn’t leading or I’m not following. I end up either mad at God or full of condemnation towards myself. But the Spirit led Jesus into the wilderness.

And then I noticed something new about the first temptation. Jesus had been fasting 40 days. He was hungry. The devil comes to Him and says “If you are the Son of Man, command these stones to become bread.” Now that’s a strange temptation. What’s sinful about making stones into bread? Jesus made water into wine–working that type of miracle apparently isn’t taboo. So why not just do it?

Jesus’ answer was deeper than the devil expected, I’m sure. “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” The devil was urging Jesus to give into His body’s hunger. Satan would have loved for Christ to be ruled by the needs of His body, by the cares of His flesh. Satan would have loved it if Jesus had become concerned about what He was going to eat, where He was going to sleep, what He would wear. From the devil’s perspective–it would have been great if Jesus had lived for food and by His body’s hunger.

But the devil’s wish was denied. “Man doesn’t live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” I can see a bit of a double meaning in Jesus’ answer. Man can’t live on physical food–He must also be fed by the Word–that’s our traditional interpretation (and it’s correct too). But isn’t it also true–and do not Jesus’ actions illustrate that man cannot be led by his hunger for physical food–but He must “live by” and be led by the Word of God.

It was and continues to be a moment of slow epiphany for me. I “knew” the first meaning–and that’s why I kept plugging on with reading the Word–but the second meaning was lost in the shuffle. I was being led by my body–by going to work to pay the bills and coming home and keeping the house clean and eating meals and fulfilling all those things my body (and flesh) demands. I was simply seeking Maslow’s hierarchy of “needs”. But I was not living by the Word of God–I was not being led by the Word–such that at God’s word I travel or stand still.

Help me Lord, to live beyond bread–beyond the worries of this world. Help me to live by your word–hearing Your voice and obeying, following Your leading–whether to the garden or to the wilderness.