Thursday, March 17, 2011
Beauty.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
little.
Falling asleep, listening to Norah Jones, and praying for Shantel.
Spinning, laughing, dancing, to her favorite song
A little girl with nothing wrong, is all alone.
Eyes wide open, always hoping for the sun
And she'll sing a song to anyone who comes along.
Fragile as a leaf in autumn
Just falling to the ground, without a sound.
Crooked little smile on her face,
Tells a tale of grace, that's all her own.
She's a little girl, with nothing wrong
And she's all alone.
"In faithfulness he will bring forth justice;
he will not falter or be discouraged
till he establishes justice on earth."
He has called her out in righteousness.
He takes hold of her hand.
He keeps her and will make her a light to the Gentiles.
Like Jesus, for Shantel I am steady and undiscouraged.
I hold a jewel of hope for her and she sings songs of grace to me.
I show her love and faithfulness and she shows me unwavering faith.
And she sings that song to anyone who comes along.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
faithfulness.
from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name.
And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge--that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God"
He stands in the gap while I am on my knees.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
different.
The first 5 days back in Zambia have been a whirlwind. It took a couple of days for me to get my brain all the way here (I think my body arrived a little faster).
The circumstances are different. Sophie and I are still working for GEMS, but even our role in that has changed. We are staying for a shorter time period (June), living in a different area, and find ourselves surrounded by a vastly different and diverse group of people.
One thing I very much lacked last year in Zambia was fellowship. It’s amazing how much a person can miss living in community, even when surrounded by people. We lived in the heart of a Zambian compound and our house was always full of Zambian women and children. How wonderful, right? But what I didn’t know that I would miss was a community of people who could enjoy a plate of spaghetti with me, or someone that I could talk fast to. I didn’t know I would wish for a group of people to laugh with me or to invite me over for the night. I didn’t know I would, but I did--I longed for familiarity.
This time around the setting has changed. We are living on the the campus of a seminary here in Lusaka. There are families scattered amongst the big shade trees and grassy lawns. We have mzungus (even American ones) inviting us over for dinner or to lunch every day. There are students and professors working and going to class. We even have access to the internet from the library. It is all so very different.
Every new thing takes a little getting used to. It is a very nice place, almost entirely free of the dust that always took over our previous home. It is shady and green. It is QUIET. There are absolutely zero knocks on our gate. There is community.
I’m realizing that while all of the people, the noise, the dust, the lack of privacy, and the constant harassment that comes with being a mzungu did wear me out and push me to the point of insanity (at times), I REALLY miss that. I miss the smelly, dirty, runny-nosed, no-pants, kids that would knock on our gate at all hours of the day until we answered-maybe for water, maybe for a sweet.
The fact of the matter is just that--it’s different. This change has also helped me realize that there are different types of community that I love to be a part of and usually cannot be experienced in the same place. If I want to hang out with North Americans, then I have to live where they live and live like they do. If I want to enjoy the children and be at the heart of the Zambian culture, then I have to struggle through the chaos of living right in the middle of a compound. Either way community is a part of my life and I’m getting to know people, they’re just different.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
faithful.

Today has been the best.
I don't have many words to say other than the Lord has been faithful to Shantel, his little girl.
He has heard her cries and lifted her out of her situation into a loving home, that of her true guardian.
Of all the reasons I am here in Zambia, she is number one.
Of all the callings God has on my life to be here for this time, she is the greatest.
Of all the aspects of ministry I carry out, she is my favorite.
Ten months of my life given to save hers, far more than worth every hardship.
I never knew the hope and the future that the Lord, her lion, had in store.
I will say that today was the pinnacle of them all, every day that I have spent in Zambia so far.
The Lion won. The victory belongs to Him.
His timing and his plan placed her once again on our doorstep at the perfect time.
And she is safe.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
fruit.
In fact, all I want in life is fruit.
Lately, I've been a bit interested in and consumed by our garden outside.
Vegetables, flowers, spices, fruit trees, watermelon vines...I love it.
Flowers alone are not enough for me.
Flowers do not bring about satisfaction quite like a tomato plant.
They are beautiful and they smell nice, but I'm not really a person about looks.
I like the harvest.
Having a garden, tending it, and waiting for the ripening of my labor--that's what does it for me. My new interest in gardening has helped me see the parallels between reaping the fruit of the soil and the life that I love to live.
It's all about the fruit.
The fruit is why I'm in Zambia.
But instead of tomatoes and watermelons and green onions and cabbage, I get to see the fruit of my labor in changed lives for the Kingdom of God.
And it's the truth--nothing else would do it for me.
I live for the harvest.





Sunday, July 25, 2010
Stones that Last.

The first time I came to Zambia in 2008, I never thought that just two years down the road I would be living here. I never thought that God would call me to more than just that week. And as my heart was swept away by my group of Zambian little girls, the last thought in my mind was that I would one day live within walking distance of them. I never knew my investment would be longterm.


It wasn't until He called me to Zambia and I spent time here that I understood what He had been engraving into my life...the stones that last.


























