a voice in kenya

I heard God's voice today.

Our devotional booklet has focused on learning to hear the voice of God, and I've been working on that during the trip. Before leaving for home visits this morning, I asked God specifically to help me hear his voice today.  Our visitations to Tumaini kids and their families took us to a number of homes, some of them with very little.  But one was different than the others.

Louise is a grandmother raising her two grandchildren, Rachel and Wambua, because their mom died several years ago through HIV AIDS.  Dad's still around, but is sickly and probably has the disease as well.  In addition to this loss, Louise has lost other children, one who died giving birth and others to AIDS.  She is a faithful believer, a widow, and probably more than 70 years old.  She struggles just to make sure her family is taken care of.  And Tumaini helps.

Her home consists of a few brick and mud structures that appear little more than small storage sheds.  But she and the kids have used them for shelter since last April.  It was during heavy rains then that another small brick and mud structure in which they were sleeping began to collapse.  Some of the walls gave way in the downpour as the children began screaming, "We're dead! We're dead!"  Somehow, walls that should have fallen on them didn't and they were spared.

As Louise shared her story and we surveyed the half-collapsed home, Stanley said quietly to me, "Tumaini doesn't typically involve itself in building homes, but I believe God wants us to rebuild this one."  It was then God spoke to my heart and said, "You- you and people you know- make sure this home is redone and this family is safe."  I stood there quietly considering the situation.  How could we not?  I acknowledged what I believed I heard, told Stanley what God had laid on my heart, and asked how much it would cost.  He said he would have estimates and a man ready to begin in a couple of days, but he thought it should be about $700.  I calmly thought, "Our missions budget can probably afford that." 

Then I heard God's voice again. "No," he clearly told me, "Not just from your budget. I want greater awareness and ownership from others.  I want you to ask and involve people." 

Really.  That's what he told me.

So there it is.  I believe with all my heart God heard my prayer this morning and spoke to me.  It's not exactly what I was expecting (I'm not sure just what I was expecting), but he spoke.  And I'm kinda excited, because he's either spoken, speaking, or going to speak to someone else about his or her part in this.  If you think God might be speaking to you, let me know.  Soon.  More rains are on the way and this family needs assistance before something else falls.

It's not about the money.  It's about listening.  And responding.  I'm trying to hear him and follow what I believe he's saying to me.  It's not always easy.  Too many voices, too many distractions, too much talking on my part.  But I know something for sure tonight.

I heard God's voice today.

a great day for a party

It's warming up. The days are brighter, longer, and filled with hope. At least that's how I feel today. I'm reading through the New Testament letter to the Colossian church this morning, and I'm reminded again of the supremacy of Christ. Paul tells us (me) that Jesus is the glue that holds everything in this universe together- everything. And the shedding of his blood on the cross was the needed ingredient to bring peace and reconciliation to humankind, reconnecting us to a vital relationship with the Father. I need that word today. It helps me keep my priorities in order. Helps me remember why I do what I do. Helps me look beyond the immediate to the bigger, eternal picture.

In my last post, I talked about those at our church's door looking for help. Often it's physical relief they seek, but even that lends itself to the opportunity to talk about other, deeper issues. We get a lot of people coming by, as you might imagine. Sometimes I confess I get weary listening and helping. Sometimes the fruit yield in this kind of ministry is small, and it can be discouraging. Sometimes I forget why I'm really here.

But not yesterday. Yesterday the angels threw a party. You see, last week I spoke with a man who'd been coming off and on for food and prayer. His current situation was not good, he was looking at being on the streets, and he was at the end of his rope. We provided enough assistance to get him through the immediate crisis, and he told me he wanted to bring his daughter and talk more about Christ.

Yesterday he did just that. He returned with his 16 year-old daughter and the three of us talked at length about what it means to follow the path of Jesus. At the end of the conversation they both told me they wanted to make that commitment! We prayed together, they received Christ as Lord and Savior. I gave them Scriptures to read about baptism. Told them to come back after their lunch and we'd go from there.

Sure enough, that afternoon they were back. We talked some more, answered some questions, and then I had the privilege of baptizing them into Christ. A party in heaven broke out as two who were lost had been found! And I remembered again why I really do what I do, why I'm really here. It's because people need to know. They need to see. They need to hear. They need to feel and understand God's love for them, regardless of their situation. What Christ has done for them. How much they mean to him. How valuable they really are. Colossians 1:13 says it like this:

For he [God] has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

PARTY ON!

where'd all those weeds come from?

It was time. Way past time. I looked at my back yard with great horror at the mini-jungle of weeds that seemed to spring up overnight while I was busy with other things.

It happened so quietly, so subtly, so subversively. While I was looking the other way, the spring rains, warming weather and my lack of attention provided fertile ground for these nasty organic intruders. Admittedly, I'd actually seen them in earlier stages, poking their fuzzy heads just above the brickwork. Present but not menacing. Rooted but not a threat. At least not yet. No worries, I thought to myself. I'll handle their impact and curtail their spread easily. Piece of cake. I'll take care of it...tomorrow. Later. When it's more convenient. When I feel like it.

Aww, come on. Who was I kidding? It's never convenient. I never feel like it. Tomorrow is always just that. I'd failed to take care of my back yard because I'd spent so much time taking care of other issues, other items, other opportunities. And some days I'd come home and just not feel like working at it...so I didn't.

It made me think about my own life, and how easy it is to get caught up with other people and their issues, getting involved in lots of good causes, showing concern for the back yards of others. Sometimes at the expense of my own. It just seems easier to help somebody else with his or her situation, while letting my own circumstances slide, just get by, or become overgrown with life's weeds. And what good is it if I help everyone else clean up their mess, but end up caught in my own?

Last Saturday was the day of reckoning. I clothed myself with items whose appearance I knew would be forever altered, grabbed my heavy duty weed whacker (thanks, Paul D.), a shovel, trash can and Tiger Balm (OK, that came later), told my wife that if she didn't hear from me in a couple hours to bring the machete and come searching, and headed out to do what I should've been doing all along the way. I didn't finish everything on that day, but after a few minor skirmishes with the enemy and a lot of effort, I reclaimed my back yard. Now to get to the finishing touches before I have to start all over...

Helping others is what we're designed for. It's part of our privilege with each other. But make sure that as you get involved with others' needs, you keep the weeds knocked down in your own heart, your own family, your own back yard. The Apostle Paul reminded us in Galatians 6:1: "Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted." Help others, but take care of your own place as you do it.

Otherwise, you may end up in deep weeds.

my purple purse

One of the great ministries at our church is our twice-weekly Community Assistance, during which we provide grocery, transportation and referrals, along with listening ears, caring hearts and a personal touch. Here's a story that comes from one of our workers:

My name is Joyce and serve the church's Food Pantry. We have 80 to 100 people each week that come for food. We talk to them and pray with them. When I first started, I wanted to quit because I couldn't see the purpose and found it depressing. But the Lord wouldn't let me quit, so I went- not wanting to, but compelled to.

It's been a year now and I've gotten to know those less fortunate than myself. There is one homeless woman in her sixties- always smiling and always pleasant. One day as I was talking to and praying with her, I admired her purse. It was a little plastic purple purse. That evening as I went to my car, she was in the parking lot and gave me my own plastic purple purse! It cost her $1.99 and she gave it to me as a gift. I can't describe the feeling that came over me. I felt so very blessed. The Lord confirmed to me that I am where He wants me to be and I'm blessed that a homeless person gave me the gift of my own purple purse. It means everything to me, and makes me feel so humble. Our Lord is awesome.

These are the kinds of blessings- sometimes tough to quantify, but tangible in their own ways- that we receive when we give ourselves for the sake of those around us. Especially those with great need. And you can be assured that Joyce's purple purse is a daily reminder to her of God's great compassion and mercy for us all, as He gave Himself for our needs...that we might give Him our lives and love in return. Our lives, our plastic purple purses. Maybe with little value to others but of immeasurable value to God.

Our God really is awesome.