Bigger and Better

Hi friends! My college career is wrapping up, and I am so excited to be graduating tomorrow! As a result, I'm looking to consolidate some of my ministry efforts into a "centralized" location, and this means my blog will be moving to a new address!

 I will be blogging more regularly - once or twice each week, so things will hopefully be more consistent in that regard! I'm pretty excited about the change, and I hope that you will see fit to join me in my adventures over at my new home!

Cheers,

www.AlexandraTarr.com

Train Hard

Hey everyone! I apologize for the extended absence -- I've had a lot going on. I promise that I've been writing though, albeit for a somewhat different audience; I'm not sure how well a discussion surrounding the oleaginous zones of sorghum agglomerates that have undergone high-shear extrusion processes would fit with this demographic of readers. Selah. I'll save you the trauma of reading my senior design project report, but overall it went well, is finished, and is finally submitted! Praise be.

It's been a long haul, and I think I might treasure my 80+ page report more than my actual diploma. Eighty times as many pieces of paper means it's that much more valuable, right? Ha. It was definitely a lesson in endurance, though, and has helped me move away from my social-media-induced ADD. I kind of had to learn to focus for more than ten-minute increments to help write 17,000 words about cereal. But now I can safely say that I'm your girl if you have any food science questions related to granola. Here's a picture for your viewing pleasure:

Yummy granola cereal made from sorghum that can also be cooked into an all-natural, fruity porridge. Think cream of wheat, but way healthier and way, way more delicious!

My senior design project is one of those things that makes me feel very accomplished. Working on it for so long and having poured out so much of myself, it almost has become like a part of me. (I am now 99% human and 1% sorghum.) It's kind of like running a mini-marathon: in it for the long-haul, and finally crossing the finish line hurts so good; although I'm not sure whether running extremely long distances for no reason or committing four months of my life to the study of sorghum makes me question my sanity more. 

More valuable than the academic savvy I gained from this project, though, were the lessons in patience, perseverance, and critical thinking I learned. While my spiral-bound sorghum smarts will sit on a bookshelf for the rest of eternity, I'll be able to apply those other lessons to all areas of my life on a daily basis. (I'm not sure I can say the same about running half-marathons. That just made me tired.)

Character lessons are important not only for professional settings, but for spiritual settings as well. There are some sins in my life that I've been battling for a while, and when I'm worn and weary I tend to lose motivation. Maybe you can relate? But while there isn't anything spiritual about sorghum or sprinting, practices that require endurance can help equip us to persevere in our relationship with God. Paul wrote in 1 Timothy 4:8-10,

"8 For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.9 This is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance. 10 That is why we labor and strive, because we have put our hope in the living God, who is the Savior of all people, and especially of those who believe."

I'm reluctant to over-spiritualize secular matters -- though apparently #RepsForJesus is trending on Instagram. But, there is some value in being open to learning life lessons from everyday things. The food product my senior design team created was in tandem with USAID, targeted to feed hungry children. It's more than philanthropy, though. It can be philosophy as well, and it was. It taught me about individual strengths and weaknesses that create a need for unity in the body of Christ. It taught me about leaning into God's strength when I feel drained and weak. It taught me about breathing through the stress and remembering that the things I labor for are not of this world. 

Huh.

Turns out, there may have been more to my degree objective than I originally thought.

BIG SIN vs little sin

I kind of like cleaning. Washing dishes is my favorite, and there's a certain satisfaction in having a spotless stove. One thing that I find somewhat unpleasant, though, is wiping down the counters and tables. Often times, they already look perfectly clean, but the blackened Clorox wipe when I've finished suggests quite the opposite. It's always so strange to realize that something that looked pretty clean was actually really dirty.

This concept can be reflective of sin. It's easy to notice big sins in our lives (or, let's face it...other people's lives) but it's tempting to kind of sweep our "little" transgressions under the rug. In my own life, there are a lot of things that I kind of forget are actually sinful and just think of them as "things I probably shouldn't do." Cursing, gossiping, judgments, eating six sea salt caramels instead of a reasonable number (#gluttony) to name a few. When I look in the spiritual mirror, I think I look pretty good -- pretty clean. Compared to the "big" sins, I'm not doing that bad. 

Right. 

I'm pretty sure, though, that if I were to take a metaphorical Clorox sheet and wipe down my soul, it would be pretty revealing. I know I'm not alone in having this mindset, and it's not merely a cultural phenomenon, either. The Pharisees were notorious for this type of thinking.

John 8:1-11New International Version (NIV)

8 

1 but Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.

2 At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them. 3 The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group 4 and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. 5 In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” 6 They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.

But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger.7 When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” 8 Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.

9 At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there.10 Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

11 “No one, sir,” she said.

“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”

Jesus sees all sin the same way. There really is no such thing as "big sin vs little sin." We're all unclean before the Lord and it's only through Jesus's death on the cross that we are liberated from the consequences. Guess what? The consequences for our so-called "little sins" are the same as those for people with "big sins." At the end of the day, we are all dirty tables, no matter how clean we look.

I'll spare you a picture of my towel-filled trash can, but here's a shot of my table after I cleaned it. It's almost annoying that it looks exactly the same after I've laboriously scrubbed it. Sometimes it makes me almost resent the cleaning process -- there's no visual change, so why bother breaking my back? (Okay, okay...wiping down the table isn't all that difficult...)

This is part of the danger with categorizing sins as "big" or "little." In Luke 7, a sinful woman is washing Jesus's feet with her tears and hair. Simon the Pharisee is questioning why Jesus would let such a filthy person touch him. Jesus responds:

41 “Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii,[c] and the other fifty. 42 Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”

43 Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.”

“You have judged correctly,” Jesus said.

I guess if I dumped a bucket of mud on my kitchen table before cleaning it, I'd feel a bit more accomplished afterwards. Obviously I'd never do that - that would be really counterproductive. If loving Jesus is to be the foremost priority in my life, it's imperative that I recognize what he has done for me. Of course, I'm not going to go outside, shoot everyone on the street, rob a few banks and build myself a shrine so that Jesus can forgive me more (a la Romans 6:1) - especially because despite those being horrible things, they're no worse in God's eyes than the gossiping, judgmentalism and gluttony I'm guilty of.  

One of my goals lately has been to really work through these "little sins" in my life. Why? Because they're not so little, and because ignoring them can put a wall of self-righteousness between me and God and between me and people who don't know Jesus yet. It's part of humility - no matter how clean I look, I need Jesus just as much as the woman at the well (John 4). 

My challenge for you (and me) is this: Don't let unconfessed sin fester. Pray about it. Ask for forgiveness, ask for strength to overcome it, and ultimately remember that Christ already conquered it on the cross. There's power in that. If you feel stuck in a sin, remember that Jesus already won, and you don't have to be bound to that behavior anymore. #liberated

PS: Don't be a table

When There's Nothing Else to Do

There's a school of thought regarding prayer that prayer shouldn't be a last resort - it should be our go-to option for addressing any and every situation. Before, during and after we approach any course of action, we should be praying. 1 Thessalonians 5 in its discussion of the Christian life says, in verse 17, "Pray continually." I don't think Paul could have been more clear. 

Rather than using prayer as a last resort, we should use it as the basis upon we base everything we do. That is, prayer is a channel for action, allowing God to provide us His strength, allowing the holy spirit to guide us, and allowing for grace to abound where we will inevitably fall short. In many cases, prayer should be accompanied by action. Following suit with the "ACTS" or "CHAT" patterns for prayer:

• Prayers of Confession should be accompanied by a behavior change (true repentance)
• Prayers of Honoring/Adoration should be reflected in the way we lead our lives (in such a way that honors God)
• Prayers of Asking/Supplication should be accompanied by action when possible (prayer and freshly baked cookies for a friend going through a hard time)
• Prayers of Thanksgiving should be reflected by an overall attitude of gratitude (choosing to praise rather than complain in all circumstances)

"Be One" by Natalie Grant expands upon this principle by saying, "Why sit around and wait for a hero yet to come when you can be one?"

In principle, this makes a whole lot of sense. But in practice (aka real life) there are times when we simply can't be that hero, and the only thing we can do is pray. Sometimes this can make us feel helpless, fearful or lost, but in reality it can be (and really should be) a comfort. See, prayer is powerful, and crying out to God in times of need or concern is an acknowledgement that He is greater than our problems, stronger than our human weaknesses, and sovereign. Prayer seeks Him and His plan, no matter where we are in this life, no matter how helpless we feel. 

I got a little taste of that truth today. Driving to work this afternoon, I saw a girl walking along the side of the road. I assumed she was a high school student since the bus had just passed about 15 minutes prior, and I was traveling through a residential area pretty far from my university's campus. As I approached, I saw that she was crying. My stomach felt queasy - I hate seeing people upset. After a few minutes I turned around and pulled over. I called out to her and asked if she was okay. She said she was fine and kept walking. I pulled up closer. 

"Really, are you sure? You don't look okay. You were crying."

"I'm fine, really."

"But maybe I can help! Please? What's your name?" 

The girl just kept walking, her eyeliner smeared. She was definitely a teenager. I was scared for her, just walking along the side of a busy street like that. Anyone could pull over, and maybe they wouldn't all have the same intentions that I did. My heart was broken for her as I remembered the times in my own teenage years that the fear and pain of living in a broken family had caused me to wander the streets aimlessly, wanting to be anywhere but home. 

I sighed, shifted my car back to "drive" and went to work. She's been on my mind ever since, though. Looking back, I'm not sure what I would have done to help. There probably wasn't anything I could have done. We were strangers. We still are, except she has been on my heart all day, and I've been praying for her all afternoon. 

In my position, as the concerned drive-byer, the only thing I can do is pray. But that isn't a limiting factor per-say. Prayer is powerful. Prayer empowers me to submit my own concern to God's perfect plan for her life, and it adds my voice and action to the action of the Lord as He works out His will for my good, her good, and the good of every single person He created. 

See, even though I never learned her name, I can pray for that girl who was crying on the side of the road. I can pray for healing, for strength, and that she will come to know the Lord if she doesn't already. I can pray for safety that wherever she was going and whatever she was running from would be resolved. I can pray that God's will for her life would come to fruition. I can pray. And that actually means a lot.

Christians are criticized for "merely praying" during terrorist attacks, natural disasters, and other horrible events. What many don't realize, though, is that prayer is the single most important thing we can be doing for our brothers and sisters, the best among all "back-up plans," and the absolute most effective way to help in any and every situation. Next time you feel helpless when there's nothing else to do, remember that prayer is powerful and effective, and it's the best thing you can be doing.

Biblical Womanhood: Letting my own ideas get in the way of what scripture really says

For the longest time, the word "feminism" really irked me. What came to mind when I heard it said was the image of a crowd of man-hating millenials in masculine tee-shirts together with gray-haired, middle-aged women in pantsuits, all of whom rioting in favor of singleness, childlessness, and unprecedented salary increases. My view of feminism was in line with the stereotypical portrayal of "feminazis," and I judged the idea hard-core.

I thought (ignorantly) that my own commitment to "Christian womanhood" warranted that I be proudly averse towards feminist ideaologies on principle. Given that I wanted (still do) both marriage and children in the future, enjoyed spending time with the men in my family, and refused to cut my hair off, I declared myself "the opposite of feminist" and considered wearing only skirts for the rest of my life to prove that I was proud of being a female. Interestingly, this pharisaical wardrobe change was more about obstinance and less about scripture. In full disclosure, I never actually consulted the word about this whole femininity thing, merely accepting the misconstrued applications that I read online of 1 Corinthians 14:13, 1 Timothy 2:9,15, and 1 Peter 3:5 to name a few. 

#ModestIsHottest

With time, I devoted less thought to this issue (admittedly, there was less media coverage about it) and continued to peruse scripture on my own. What I came to notice though is that God's views about femininity have less to do with silence and more to do with strength. He cares less about my wardrobe and more about my heart, less about my political views and more about my servitude. Yes, the bible uses the words "gentle, submissive, and care-taking" in the same sentence as "women," but not so we can devote all our efforts toward being those things. Rather, God asks us to embrace those qualities that he integrated into His perfect design for women so that we can more fruitfully work toward His purposes. 

It quickly became clear to me that my own ideas about so-called "Christian womanhood" got in the way of understanding what God really thinks of me and what He asks me to be. As a woman, I am to be active instead of passive, humble instead of prideful, and biblical instead of political. I still don't call myself a "feminist" because I don't really understand the definition, and to be honest, I don't really care to know it. The feminism struggle is a wordly affair. We shouldn't be battling with policymakers and publicists about our "rights" and whatever. Titus 3:9 says "But avoid foolish controversies, genealogies, dissensions and quarrels about the law, for they are unprofitable and worthless." Why? Because "our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ," a la Philippians 3:20.

Instead we should be focusing our efforts on being the people God calls us to be and furthering His kingdom - all while embracing the unique and special qualities He gave us. There are countless stories of gentle, submissive and care-taking women in the bible who are also strong leaders, passionate activists, wise mentors and even prophets. Yes, you read that correctly! Deborah, the fourth judge of Israel, was a dedicated wife, an influential hymn author, a powerful warrior, and a prophet with a key role in encouraging people to obey the Lord! (Read about how she drove a stake through the temple of a corrupt king in Judges 4.)

Holla

As I am learning more about who I am as a daughter of Christ and how that truth should be shaping my life, I find myself inspired by biblical heroes like Deborah. She was a musician, a counselor, mentor and advisor, a determined ruler, a prophet who inspired Godliness, and a fearless warrior. Through all of this, she was honorably named "The Mother of Israel," a title that suggests the strength and courage behind some of the unique roles that God gives us as women. 

I've learned quite a bit from Deborah this week, but the biggest lesson is that it's dangerous to blindly accept controversial ideaologies without having a firm grasp of the scripture that backs them up. Sometimes our preconceived notions about Christianity aren't biblical at all. The key example from this anecdote is the two different ways that the words "gentle, submissive, and care-taking" can be construed, demonstrating how both legalism and liberalism can pull us away from the the heart and purpose of God for our lives. Reading about (and being inspired by) Deborah has given new meaning to 2 Timothy 3:16-17 for me, showing how God can open our eyes and change our hearts through His word, the only caveat being that we have to actually read it. I think that's pretty awesome.

*Backtracking through the whole post, here is a list of some of the different qualities that God values in women:

This is not an "Easter Post"

A few weeks ago, my friend Hailey shared with me a really cool story called "The Rag Man." It's a poetic allegory in which a strong, young, smart man travels around a city advertising his rag cleaning service. The narrator quickly realizes that there is something unique about this "rag man" because when he replaces the wet, used handkerchief of a crying woman and the dirty, stained bandage of an injured man, he takes their burdens onto himself. The recipients are healthy and happy again, but the rag man is bleeding and brokenhearted in their place. The rag man is, of course, a symbol for Jesus and what He did for us on the cross.

I loved this story because it gave context to what sometimes seems like an abstract idea. "Sin" can be a strange word at times, especially in our American culture when religious beliefs are frowned upon in light of relativism. "The Rag Man" draws an analogy for how sin affects our souls like physical injuries affect our bodies, or how loss and sadness affect our emotional selves. Just as Jesus performed miracles during His life on earth, including the healing people's bodies, He also cleansed our souls and removed the dirt, blood, stains, pain, and suffering that result from our disobedience to God. He took it all onto himself -- all the anguish and terror, the hurt and heartache, everything that we deserve --  and He endured it in our place. It can be hard to think about, sometimes, what "hell" means: death as the wages for our sin. But thinking of it in terms of a bruised and bleeding laceration, being doubled over in pain, or the deepest sadness and loss I can imagine, multiplied by ten, gives an interesting perspective into the significance of Christ's death on the cross. It hurt for Him just as it would for us. There were two key differences, though: One, He didn't deserve any of it. Two, He then rose from the dead, conquering sin and removing the power of the grave.

It might seem like I'm doing this whole "Easter Blogpost" a day late (and a dollar short) but I wouldn't say this is merely an "Easter Post." See, what Christ did on the cross changed everything about life. It changed life for the Jews back in year 33 of Jesus's time on earth, and it changed my life in 2011 when His death became real for me. What happened on the first Easter -- that fateful "third day" -- wasn't limited to an annual celebration. Christ's resurrection marked the beginning of His reign as the ruler of the universe. The fact that He rose from the dead is what defines Christianity, and should be the single most influential factor in the life of every Christian (and really every person) today. When Christ died, He paid the price for our sins. But when He rose again, He transcended humanness and displayed His glory as the one who conquered death. Christ began His ministry as king on the first Easter, and that is what gives us hope every year on (and after) Easter today. As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 15:19, "If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied." Christ's teachings for life help us to live in a way that is pleasing to the Lord, but it is only in His death and resurrection that the struggle of our time on earth becomes significant in the context of eternity. By returning from the dead, He broke the power of sin and subsequent death. That, friends, is why we have hope - and not just for Easter Sunday. In Christ's resurrection, we have hope for every single day of our lives.

Casting Lots (and what I learned from it)

Are you good at decision making? I'm sure not. I'm an over-analyzer, and I'm terrified of making the "wrong choice." The fear is paralyzing, and I just swing back and forth on a pendulum as my deadlines approach. Usually a decision is made after a brief bout of panic, and then I finally sign my name and the decision is made. I then can breathe again...at least until the next decision comes around.

I've been in a long and difficult period of waiting this year, wondering what God's plan is for my life, wondering if I'll get into certain graduate programs, wondering whether I even want to get into said graduate programs. As a horrible decision maker, I never really know what I actually want, which is why I sometimes over-spiritualize my decisions. On one hand I wonder if, since a door has opened, it means that the path is too easy, that God expects me to give more of myself, and to show I'm really committed by choosing the harder path. Alternatively, if a door is closed, I wonder if it maybe wasn't closed for good, and I should look for another way to go down that route. But, then again, maybe it was closed because God has something else in mind. I've blogged about these decisions before, which only goes to show how long this has been a struggle for me. 

Today, after deliberating again (multiple times) with my sister and my bible, I decided to take a new approach: casting lots. [Try not to judge me yet! I can explain!]

In Joshua 18, God had already instructed Joshua to divvy up the land among the seven tribes. In 18:8, he tells the tribes, "Go and make a survey of the land and write a description of it, then return to me, and I will cast lots for you here at Shiloh in the presence of the Lord." The people obey and write up the descriptions, Joshua casts the lots, and the land is divided accordingly. My study bible mentioned that there are a number of ways these "lots" could have been cast. But ultimately, no matter the methodology, casting lots removed the human choice from the decision-making process and allowed God to make matches as He saw fit. In my human brain, that sounded like kind of a haphazard, illogical, statistically unsound way of making decisions. So, I tried it.

I wrote up seven different "options" that I'm considering for my future, many of which are out of my control. I folded up my papers, prayed, shook my hands, and threw the pieces into the air. I closed my eyes, grabbed at one, and held it in my palm. My heart was beating fast.

Was this going to be God's answer to my prayers? Is this His plan for my life? Is this legit?

I prayed again, hands trembling, before opening the paper. I was nervous and unsure as I read it. I took a breath. What was I doing? I folded up the paper, threw it back in the pile, mixed up the papers again and picked again. I got the same answer a second time. 

Weird.

That's when I started thinking. Do I believe that God coordinated which answer I chose (twice)? I don't know. Maybe. Will God strike me down if I choose something else besides the lot I was cast? Probably not. What I do know is that casting lots is biblical, no matter how unscientific it seems. More importantly, the piece of paper I chose from the pile probably doesn't matter that much. Casting lots, I've realized, is less about the actual assignments and more about the fact that God is in control of it all. No matter what we choose - no matter what route we take - God has already determined it. He has already written our lives, and there's freedom in that. Casting lots isn't about the decision, it's about the trust. Trusting God with our lives, taking our human desires and "5-year-plans" out of the mix, submitting ourselves to His purposes: that's faith. Today, I cast lots. Like my sister says, "Just pick something." What I choose really isn't as important as whether or not I allow God to use it. We all have a lifelong ministry, and whether we are accepted to graduate school or not, whether we get our dream jobs or not, whether our life goes the way we thought or not, probably doesn't matter. His plan for us is good, and good things take time.God's plan is less about us and more about him. So, even if you don't cast lots, cast lets. Let God be in control of your life. It's like the proverbial saying, "Let go and let God." 

I'm trying, folks. So pray for me, will you?

*If you're in a similar situation, shoot me a Facebook message or leave a comment. I'll pray for you, too.

The Painted Pinkie

I'm not very good about caring for my fingernails. Even after I managed to quite biting my nails in eighth grade, I never made a priority to take care of them. I periodically am inspired to throw on a coat of cheap polish here and there, but I've never been one to keep up with overgrown cuticles, less a few trips to the salon for prom and weddings. I've also noticed that guitar-playing isn't so great for the maintenance of freshly manicured nails.

On mission trips, a fun way to engage with kids and other women is to offer to paint their nails. It's a wordless way of saying, "It doesn't matter how dirty you are, I still think you're beautiful and worthy, and I want to serve you." It's almost akin to modern-day feet washing. Last week in Nicaragua, my team and I were planning to paint our friend Nubia's nails for her when Humberto joined the conversation. He proudly showed us his chipped coat of paint on his fifth finger. "It's for good luck and happiness," he said, adding that he'd had a colorful pinkie for 5 months. We laughed and added a fresh layer of blue polish over the green he had. Ervin thought it was cool too, so we painted his nail as well.

In the states, I'd seen quite a few people keep an accent color on a single finger, but never thought much of it. I always figured it was just a trend (it was) and never felt compelled to do it myself. But yesterday when I was finally scraping the dirt and sand out from under my nails, reflecting on the mission work that had turned them brittle and yellow, I remembered Humberto's painted pinkie. It was his own special form of meditation every day, reminding himself to think positively and to look for luck. It's an interesting concept, but not a new one. Tattoos, jewelry and even clothing can all be similar symbols, reminding us of something important. I don't wear a wedding ring, but I have bracelets that remind me to keep my focus on God, such as the one in the following picture with Jeremiah 29:11 inscribed in it. 

After my conversation with Alberto last Tuesday, my teammates and I started another discussion about tattoos. Kyla mentioned that someone she looks up to a lot draws an X on his wrist every day to remind himself to "seek first the kingdom." We noted that the daily action of drawing the X was a unique and meaningful alternative to getting a tattoo, because it requires intentionality. Tattoos are maybe less effective at reminding the wearer of the cause because it's so easy to get used to them, and they almost don't even phase us after a while. My tattoo is like that sometimes, especially because it's in such an inconspicuous location. 

So, yesterday after cleaning and clipping my nails, I decided to follow Humberto's example and painted my pinkie a different color than the rest of my fingers. My purpose wasn't for luck or happiness, but rather to remember the important lessons that God taught me while in Nicaragua, some of which I haven't even realized yet. These next couple weeks will be a roller coaster of emotions, as I know I will be going through periods of both joyful remembrance as well as brokenhearted-ness, and God will be instructing and shaping me as I reflect. My hope is that the accent on my pinkie will remind me to be praying for my brothers and sisters in Nicaragua, my teammates in the US, and for the strength to submit my life to the Lord. As it chips, I'll add a fresh coat, being intentional about this lifelong journey as a missionary both here at home as well as abroad.

What I Learned: the overarching theme of my week in Nicaragua (2016)

I'm back. Home. We did it. We built a house. It feels pretty good. 

Yet, somehow, all I can think about is the people. My teammates. My workmates. The Fuller Center Crew. Cristina's family. Jesus. 

Our first day in Las Penitas, before we started working. 

Coming into this trip, I had a lot of fear. It was strange and unprecedented. Unexpected. Anxiety comes from the weirdest places, and it kept me awake all night before we left for Nicaragua. Why? I am almost ashamed to admit that I was scared of the people. I was scared of traveling with a group of people I didn't know. What will they think of me? I was scared to meet the family we would be building for. How will we communicate? I was scared to work in Nicaragua. What is the perception of "white people" in Las Penitas? The Holy Spirit brought 2 Timothy 1:7 to my mind that night at 3:30 am: "But God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and a sound mind." During this trip, the truth of the Lord broke my chains and left me empty of my defenses, then covered me with grace and strength, building relationships where walls once stood. He conquered my fearful spirit by being faithful in His promises. I'm walking away from a week in one of the poorest places in the world, feeling like the richest girl alive because I have had the opportunity to serve a loving, just and merciful God who died for me, who renews my strength day by day, and who is continually shaping me into the woman He designed. He wrote me into His story, and it is such a blessing. 

This picture speaks the thousands of words that I can't. It shows the love among us that turned strangers into family. I am awed by the humble and hardworking spirit of our trip leader, Hailey D; Kyla's maturity and commitment to the Lord; the wise stewarding of gifts by Curt along with his fearlessness; Nicole's gentleness, complemented by her unrelenting pursuit of God's purposes in any and every situation; Halie B's mothering instinct, incessant preoccupation with the broken, and desire to proclaim God's redeeming power. I laughed with 'Berto and Benito about my broken Spanish language skills and marveled after their perseverance. Santos patiently helped us with our translations, led us throughout the building process, and always greeted us with a smile. Danilo organized everything we could have needed or wanted; Nubia selflessly washed our dirty, ragged clothing after long, sweaty days in the sun; Ervin and his cousin Norman laughed with us and showed us what it means to sacrifice leisure for the benefit of others. I am so grateful for the group of people in the picture above. It was an honor to serve God with them, and we now share a special connection and the unique commonality of having labored together for our Lord: a fruit that will keep on giving. 

Overall, I experienced God in a new way on this trip through relationality. In the past, I've had discipleship/mentoring relationships, but there is something different about altogether giving of ourselves as a group. We were united as a body this week by our shared love for God and the progression of our shared experiences. Each one of us came from a different background and most of us are now at home in Christ's church, though we are still waiting on God's intervention for a few. But nonetheless, a new meaning was given to Jesus's proclamation that the poor are blessed, and that they are our brothers and sisters. We all are God's beloved, and it's so beautiful to choose to allow grace to reign despite our own inadequacies, living in the freedom of Christ. The church is the bride of Jesus, and He is our leader, our role model and our savior. He is what gives us unity, and it is incredible to deliberately leave the comfortable Christian bubble to be found among the lost. I can't wait to see God continue to work in and through this amazing group of people, and I'm so grateful to have had the opportunity to know them for eternity. 

Breaking bread. It's the best!

Done

It's hard to believe that the trip is over, the work is done, and that we will be coming home tomorrow. The past few days were a whirlwind as we jumped into building and fell into a routine. The first few days seemed to take three times as long whereas yesterday and today flew by. I can't believe that what was once a parcel of dry dirt is now a home, brick and mortar, two windows and two doors. It's an amazing feeling of accomplishment to look at the house and know that we built it, but even more joyful to see Cristina, who now has a home of her very own. 

This is a picture of the house in progress (yesterday). Today it has four walls and a roof. When we left the worksite, half of the concrete floor was left to be poured but it was otherwise complete, porch and all. 

It's amazing to see how God used the six of us in so many different ways. My team members are giving, selfless, encouraging and inspirational workers who labor after the Lord's purposes. Even when we were tired, dirty and drained of all we had to offer, there was hardly any complaining. God showed me His glory through these humble women and men, and I have been stretched and strengthened likewise. It is such an amazing answer to prayer.

Yesterday afternoon my teammates and I were praying for opportunities to share our faith with the people we were with. This was a huge request, given the massive language barriers between us. Yet in broken Spanish, we learned that Alberto met Jesus while imprisoned in America for a crime he didn't commit, Nubia and her family are Christ followers who wake up daily with a song on their lips, and we were able to share our love and joy with and without words. I also had the opportunity to talk with Benito about his spiritual life, which is pretty limited. Like me, He went to a Catholic church occasionally as a child but never learned anything worthwhile or felt connected. We both ultimately gave up on God after experiencing hard things in life, and struggled to reconcile painful circumstances with a supposedly all-loving God. I was then able to follow up somewhat by sharing how that perspective changed for me when I went to church with my sister as a teen, heard the gospel for the first time, and realized the true meaning of life. My prayer is that one day Benito will experience the same life change. 

Overall, I continue to be blown away by the similarities between myself and the people we are with. I am finding culture to be meaningless in a way, because we are all united in our humanity - both the good and bad aspects. This truth paints a picture of Christ as well, who experienced life as a human and knew all the temptations we face. Black, brown or white, old or young, irrespective of native language, we all are human. We are known and loved by the creator of the universe, and He is writing a story in which we all have a place. I am so thankful that Jesus knows me personally, and that I can lean into him for strength in situations he has already walked through. What a relief! 

Covered in dirt, but having fun!

I'm so excited to come home and continue to process what I've learned this past week. Before we do, though, we will have the opportunity to serve dinner tomorrow night to all the engineers and Fuller Center leaders who helped us, as well as the family we built for. Please pray for meaningful conversations, safety, and a fun night of fellowship! 

 

 

Contrast

One of the things I've noticed here that has totally floored me is the contrast in wealth within a small area. The hostel we are staying at is really nice. There is a beautiful beach just across the street and we are staying in an area where a lot of wealthy people have their beach homes. Yet, 5 minutes down the street where we have been working is completely overcome by poverty. The dirt roads are littered with trash and dead animals, the houses are built out of old pieces of metal scaffolding, and the barbed wire is pulled to the ground, causing more harm than protection. It's hard to comprehend how so much need and so much excess can exist so near to each other. 

This is a picture of the pool inside our absolutely gorgeous hotel. The paint is fresh, there are colorful hammocks hanging under grass huts, and the paved walkways are lined with palms. And yet, here is a picture of the conditions under which most of the people in the villiage live:

It's such a culture shock. I saw houses similar to that one the last time I was in Nicaragua, but I personally haven't come across them ever in America. It's like I live in a bubble, and always think of the poor as just that: "the poor." People assigned to a name. That's what they are: Poor. Okay. Move on. 

It's such an unfortunate attitude to have, because the wealth of love, soul and personality that these people have is indescribable. They are just as human and vivacious and alive as myself, just as sentimental, just as experiential, just as intellectual, comical and in need of love. Despite not being different from us, it's so easy to categorize them and ignore them. They're "the poor." Period. How can we be okay with ending the sentence there? There has to be more to the story!

During our devotional time today, we talked about Mark 1:40-44 when Jesus layed His hands on the leper to heal him.  I'd heard the story before but I'd never contemplated the fact that Jesus didn't actually need to physically use touch for healing. He can command the world with the power of His words...or probably even without them as well. Yet, He chose to use physical touch, connecting on a human level, to communicate His love. I feel like our fear of touch, of connection, of being on the same level as the poor, prevents us from reaching out to them. Whether it's a woman on a street corner, a forgotten elderly man in a nursing home, or a family in Nicaragua, they need  human relationality. Most importantly, they need the love of Jesus. I'm horrified sometimes that I can fall into such cold heartedness, especially considering all that Jesus has done for me. I'm a wretched sinner myself, still distracted by temptation, and yet Jesus continues to keep me from the death that I deserve. There are people both here in Nicaragua and home in the USA who are the walking dead. Their wages are death but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ. Keeping that good news to myself would be, and is, terribly selfish. (Romans 6:23)

 At least we're making progress. 😝

 

 

Secunda Dia

Day two. Today was our first full day of working at the site. We made a lot of progress on the house, and the walls are halfway finished! Mostly our work involves applying mortar to the underlying layer, adding another round of bricks, and then filling the holes with concrete. We also sift and shovel sand to mix into the concrete and mortar, carry the cinder blocks (bricks) and kind of gent everything organized. Rebar poles are inserted into the holes on the cinder blocks and secured with concrete. 

I don't have a picture of the progress on the house, but here's what we ate for dinner yesterday. It was some sort of cold, sour pork and fried mixed vegetables. It was delicious!!

 We took a brief siesta (break) to go play with the children at the nearby school. We painted the girls' nails and played soccer with some of the other kids. Hayden Alexander was excited that my name is kind of like his. 

We also had he opportunity to sing some songs in Spanish during our devotional, and we included one of the engineers from the work site, Danillo. It was amazing to worship in multiple languages. We prayed together in both English and Spanish, and the Holy Spirit was loud and clear among us. It was awesome. 

We had another chance to dip in the ocean before dinner. The waves are the biggest I've ever seen. The riptides are super strong as well and it's definitely humbling to feel the sand pulled out from beneath our feet. 

 After dinner today, I had a really encouraging conversation with one of the employees at the Fuller Center. He asked me how I felt about tattoos (random, I know) and was surprised to learn that I have one. In Nicaraguan culture, women who have tattoos are viewed as lazy, kind of "trashy," etc. He also brought up that in Catholicism, tattoos are frowned upon because of the verse that talks about the body being a temple, and how it should be kept clean. I was able to explain the difference between legalism and grace, and how the conditions of our hearts determine whether our behavior is sinful or not. Since tattoos aren't explicitly prohibited in the bible, it needs to be discerned on a case by case basis. My own tattoo serves as a reminder to myself to lean into God's strength during hard times. It's also a great conversation starter with others when they ask about my tattoo's meaning. Definitely not sinful. I'm so grateful for the opportunity to share and have a real life faith conversation. I'm continuing to pray that God will open the door to conversations, conquering the language barriers. 

Thank you for praying for us, we definitely have been encouraged by your support!

Day one in a different world

The first day is complete and it has been crazy and intense and naturally, nothing like I would have expected. We slept a little later because we didn't get to our hostel until 3 am. It was a crazy journey and we almost ran over some horses on the highway (seriously). Our driver was such a sweet man though, and was sure to point out landmarks like half-painted cathedrals and government buildings. 

This is Orlando, our driver. He picked us up at the airport last night and brought us to the market in Leon this morning. He is married to a woman named Christina, has four kids and, so far, four grandkids. At breakfast this morning, I told him the story about how I once accidentally called someone's child a monkey, and he thought it was hilarious. ("Que mono" literally translates to "how monkey." In Spain, it can be used to mean "how cute!" I learned the hard way that it doesn't also mean that in Nicaragua.)

Orlando is the first person I had the opportunity to get to know so far this trip. I know Spanish pretty well (conversationally) but it takes a lot of mental focus to discern what someone is saying. Orlando was patient with me and helped me refine my grammar skills, which I am really appreciative for. The language barrier is moreover difficult, but it's such a blessing to see how God united us in conversation WITHOUT words. Laughter is universal in humanity, and it's so freeing to share in wordless conversation. 

Here's a picture of our "living quarters." I feel kind of spoiled. I share a room with my friend Hailey. We have our own bathroom and are trying to remember not to flush the toilet paper down. Sorry if that's TMI, but it's also #truelyfe

This is a poorly framed picture of where we started building the house today. Currently the family consists of a married couple, the lady's parents, her aunt, her sister and her nephews. When we finish building, the married couple will be able to live in the house by themselves, which will be exciting. It's just a little square room, but they will finally have a private place to call their own, so I'm really glad for them. 

It's a strange place to be, where a one room, concrete room in a baking hot country littered with garbage, starving animals and contaminated water is a coveted gift. It's such a juxtaposition to the world I live in for the other 51 weeks of the year, where the poorest people in America are on par with some of the richest here in Nicaragua. That contrasted with the world we are called to live in, so many people in Nicaragua are exponentially richer than the millionaires in America, or at least the ones that know Jesus. I need to remember that. 

My trip leader asked us during our devotional time to consider why it was that God called us here to Nicaragua and what he is doing through us. I'm of course not sure what that is just yet, but I'm trying to remember to keep an eternal perspective. Neither concrete, one-room homes nor stone mansions will last very long, and neither one can give us lasting joy. But the gifts of God give us hope and strength for this life as well as the promise of eternity by his side. So no matter whether I'm struggling to figure out how to build a house, or if I'm studying in college, or working a 9-to-5, keeping my eyes on the giver of life is a good way to follow after his purposes. It sometimes feels like a different world here, irrelevant and inapplicable to my "normal status-quo." But God is the same yesterday and today, in all circumstances, and among all people, believers or not. All I need is a willing mind and an open heart, no matter where I go, and God will use me. 

"For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans to help you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11

Please continue to pray for our team, and especially that we will be able to communicate the truth in Jeremiah 29:11 to the people around us. 

 

This is across the street. Gorgeous, huh? No filter, either. 

 

 

 

And So It Begins...

A team of 6 from my church at school  are traveling to Nicaragua this week to build a house. I'm grateful to be able to share that our adventure started off uneventfully. We all woke up around 4:15, piled into the cars and chowed some delicious bagel sandwiches that my sister made for us. (She's the bomb.) Our first flight left on time and we arrived in Houston at around 11 am. We walked a few laps around the airport, taking the express train to each terminal in search of the best place to eat. We had a 10 hour layover, so mostly we were just looking for ways to entertain ourselves.

We eventually found a cool Texas BBQ place that had delicious pulled pork. We lunched and then resumed galavanting around the airport. Amid our stint on a moving walkway, I noticed a familiar face standing along some of the gate benches. "Hey, that's Brene Brown!" I exclaimed, and she looked up at me. "Are you Brene Brown?" I asked eagerly, as the walkway slowly moved me down the hall. I convinced my group to track back to where she was. She graciously indulged my overly-enthusiastic fan behavior by agreeing to take a picture with us, wished us well on our mission trip, and then we left her to be with her family for their vacation. It was great. She is great. If you haven't read any of her books, check out Daring Greatly because it is brilliant, and follow up with a few of her Ted Talks. You won't regret it. 

My favorite part of our meeting was when my team member, Curt, introduced himself. She thought he said "Courage." "You're name is Courage? Mine's Vulnerability." LOL. 

So, one celebrity sighting later, we sought out a remote(ish) area with a place to plug in our phones, and commenced the card games, bible studying, naps, and other time fillers. I opened up to my favorite Old Testament book. 

The proverb of today (Proverbs 13) was vastly useful as we continue to pray and prepare our hearts to be servants. "The righteous eat to their hearts' content, but the stomach of the wicked goes hungry."

In America, we are undeniably rich. We have unlimited access to food, wealth and fortune, and are ever in pursuit of personal fame. But those things are comparatively unimportant. It's imperative that we remember that going to help the poor isn't about giving material goods, including food and shelter. It's about providing lasting sustenance to the spiritually starving. We have the gift of reconciliation with God, which grants eternal life. We can experience life on earth to the fullest with Jesus walking with us, and we have hope in eternity with him. Sharing His truth and gift with the poor is what makes these sacrificial trips worth it. The spiritual high is what keeps us coming back, knowing that sharing what we have doesn't decrease the richness of knowing Christ, but instead multiplies it. 

What other gift can do that?

 Please continue to pray for safety and effectiveness for our team members, as well as for interpersonal cohesiveness and joyful attitudes, as we venture out of our comfort zones. 

 

 

Hobbies

I heard some advice recently about choosing a vocation. Three questions I was encouraged to ask were: (1) "Is it in line with God's plan?" (2) "Do I like it?" and (3) "Am I good at it?" I've noticed that these three questions are helpful in discerning decisions with temporary ramifications as well. It can be difficult to figure out God's plan sometimes and I'm not at all an expert. A few ways I've been able to figure out if something is part of God's plan for my own life are through prayer and listening for the Holy Spirit's guidance, inspiration in scripture, and something as simple (yet powerful) as looking to see if the door remains open throughout my time of prayer and processing. Obviously whatever way we end up spending our lives should be moreover enjoyable and fulfilling (aside from the everyday difficulties and annoyances of course.) We also should be skilled or talented enough in that area to where we can do a good job and make an impact in the field. 

The latter two are sometimes neglected when I see blogs about choosing a path to pursue. Really, liking something and being good at something tend to go hand in hand. The more we like something, the more we tend to practice it, and the more skilled we become. This is why I think hobbies can be important in our spiritual lives. The things we are good at, no matter how insignificant they might seem, can be used for God's purposes. 

Writing, making music and taking pictures are a few of my hobbies, and they are definitely tools that can be used by God. This blog is an obvious example. Group hobbies like sports can also be a medium through which the gospel can be shared. My church from home hosts sports and art camps where people come to refine their skills but end up getting a solid dose of Jesus as well. We can also work for God's purpose in the ways we represent ourselves. Gracious losers and humble winners in competitions are sometimes hard to come by, and we can make a statement as Christians in that way.

Below are a few ways that we can use our hobbies to impact the world for Christ. 

If you like...

• Cooking - Volunteer at a soup kitchen, host a dinner for men or women from your church, or lead prayer before a delicious home-cooked meal with your potentially non-believing friends.
• Writing - Host a blog, write about important social issues, or share your worldview through writing.
• Music - Serve as a worship leader, perform praise music in public, or write encouraging music.
• Sewing - Donate clothing for the homeless, or make pillows/quilts with encouraging messages.
• Team sports - Volunteer with at-risk kids, or work as a coach for young people, encouraging them in righteousness. You could also host a mini tournament at your church, drawing people to engage with other believers and build relationships.
• Art - Communicate sacred concepts through art work, help teach others while sharing the gospel, donate your work to your church or a christian organization to help make the area beautiful, or volunteer at a youth program, helping teach kids how to make art.
• Gardening - Donate a portion of your crop to a food pantry or soup kitchen, volunteer at a community garden, or offer to help your neighbors with theirs.
• Shopping - Donate old items to a fundraiser, host a clothing swap at your church, or sell items to raise money for an important cause.
• Running - Host a race to raise awareness or money for an important cause, or invite someone for a jog, starting a good conversation along the route.

No matter what your hobby is, it can be a great way to engage with other people in a meaningful way, sharing life with our brothers and sisters. Most hobbies can be used to directly impact the kingdom, and it's only a matter of using your brain (or sometimes combining a few brains) to come up with a way to make a difference. Our hobbies are gifts, and if we steward them well, they can be used for good in the world. Even if you're not an expert, you can make a difference!