Moved By Compassion.

Throughout Scripture describing the days that Jesus walked our sod you will find again and again that Jesus was not in a hurry. He was attentive, aware and ready. We also read that Jesus was consistently, “Moved by compassion.” He was moved by compassion to feed hungry people, teach the mysteries of the Kingdom, heal the sick, raise the dead, minister to people with the simplest to the most profound of needs. I have read these words many times standing in amazement at Jesus' ways and yet wondered what does that really mean? What would it look like for me to be “moved by compassion?” Or better yet, what would it take? My heart's desire is to look more and more like Jesus each day I live on the earth which means that sometime I must experience this mystery firsthand.

I believe in the last week I felt it. I know for certain that Jesus gave me a glimpse of what was happening in His heart those many times when He Himself was so overflowing with compassion that He was moved to action. Over the past few weeks, I have become a sort of answering service for the sick in our church and community who need prayer. It has been amazing to me because each time I receive these late night desperate calls (and they are always late night) truly the only thing I have been able to do is pray. Every time we have prayed God has come through with supernatural healing and provided testimonies of His power and grace at work. He is just so good at that.

This past week following my lessons at Mmusi Primary I was approached or rather stopped in my tracks by a student of mine named Tirelo. This sweet, quiet, 6th grade boy who I know from class, ran up to me after school begging me to come and pray for His mom. To be honest, I was shocked and then really humbled. There he was with his big brown desperate eyes reaching out for someone to join him before the Throne on behalf of his pregnant and suffering mom. Tirelo's family is not saved as far as I know but this boy had faith and just like Jesus was prompted to act in response to faith, so was I.

Late last night Tirelo, his grandma and I went to visit his mom, Lydia, at the public hospital. Even as we approached the maternity ward with the nervous and anxious Tirelo running ahead, I could sense the Lord about to ruin me in new ways. While I will edit out the heart wrenching conditions that I find at this hospital, as I sat in the courtyard with my hand on Lydia's shoulder, my heart was aching with compassion. As she recounted the various pains and concerns for her health, I could physically feel my heart breaking. I wanted to find a doctor and demand answers, share some words with the cooks who refused to feed her something she could safely keep down, protect the baby growing inside of her, just do something. My skin was crawling with the sensation of the Spirit moving inside of me (sounds creepy but really it was amazing). As I was literally moved by compassion and love for this women I don't know and her son who looked on with eyes of faith, I was able to give her Jesus. She needed healing, comfort, love, and covering and in Jesus alone she will receive all of the above.

I rose early today to greet Lydia with much needed breakfast and a tender dose of Jesus. To tell you the truth I still don't know this women well but Jesus is moving compassionately through me to make sure that Lydia knows Him. I have decided I want to be moved by compassion all the time. I want to let the things that break God's heart really ruin mine. I want to be attentive and ready for the miraculous move of the Spirit as He draws all men and women to Himself.

Please pray for Lydia's healing and salvation.
Please pray that I would walk in deeper faith.
Pray for yourself to let God move you in new compassionate ways to reach those around you.

To-Do.

Today's To-Do List:

1. Trust God Steadily.

2. Hope unswervingly.

3. Love Extravagantly.

I Choose Jesus.

Have you ever had one of those revelations that stops you in your tracks?
I did this week.
It was humbling, freeing, and life changing.

God's promises are not to be viewed solely in light of my dreams, desires, and life circumstances.
God's promises are meant to reveal the Promiser.
Yes, His promises apply and are at work in my circumstances
but the Promiser is the reward, not my desires.

I knew this deep in my heart once, but I let my heart forget.
I was sincerely grieved and then gracefully restored to an undivided pursuit of the only One worth running after.

Forget the rest, I choose Jesus.

Seasons of the Soul.

Though I live in and have lived in various places that lack the beloved change and newness that different seasons bring, I love seasons.

The changing of seasons fosters hope that change is around the corner and allows us to mark life's path on this journey. Through my many years walking with God, I have found that there also happens to be the constant changing of spiritual seasons that bring a new perspective, shape me, and display the works and creativity of my Maker.

As I have sought the Lord as to this mysteriously marvelous work He is doing in me, I have found a parallel between my spiritual season and my favorite natural season, Autumn. Autumn is marked by its brilliant array of colors, a majestic display of the manner in which God views change. With each leaf fading from deep cranberry red to rich burnt orange, creation declares that change in the eyes of its Creator is nothing more than stunningly beautiful. I have found myself many times stopping to soak in the colorful dance of drifting leaves, sense the fresh, cool winds that begin to blow, and marvel at the distinct signs of this savored season.

So it is with my soul. There is an almost indescribable newness stirring deep within my spirit. As I have faithfully come to Him, God has been tenderly painting His truths across my heart day by day. Each delicate and divinely decorated truth reflects the beauty of its artist and has freed me to embrace the changes that God is bringing about in my life. God is not harsh or demanding that changes be made but instead has sent the gentle, cool breeze of His Spirit. The wind of the Spirit is a wind of change.

With its mysterious paths about me it graciously removes places in me that are dead and dying. It strips me bare in anticipation for the future seasons to come. For me this has been a season where God has tended to the carving out of my character. I have felt the biting, cool air convict, correct, and shape the deepest places in me. It has also been a freeing season that releases me to let the molding hands of God transform and renew me. God has stripped me and strengthened me. He has delivered whispers of His love amidst the changing of my soul that allows me to embrace His loving transformation. I crave something new in me. I long for the sweet buds of Spring in my life and God has been faithfully preparing me for such a season. Until Spring comes, I choose to stand in wonder at this Autumn of my soul and let this season categorized by change reflect the works of God in my life.

Man in a Manger.

Dreams, I sincerely don't understand them.
I did, however, have a dream last night that is probably one of the funniest dreams I have ever had. So funny, that I have been repeatedly laughing out loud every time it comes to mind. No need to analyze this one, but I felt obligated to share the humor for your enjoyment.

(Disclaimer: The is not a true story, it was only a funny dream, do not be alarmed)

In my dreams...
My dear friend Branden Carpenter was scheduled to speak to the high school and junior high kids in 180 at Westside Church. All of my Bend friends were gathered in the 180 room and were delighted to hear the anointed Word as Branden brilliantly delivered it. He got so excited about kids taking notes on his talk while speaking that half-way through he peaced out of the sermon to find paper and never came back. That was funny...but it got so much better. I caught up with Branden later on in the entry way at church and we were discussing how he felt the first service had gone. Minus the dismissing himself half-way through we both agreed that he had done well. He still had two more services to speak at so, I, the wonderful friend that I am felt it necessary to give him some suggestions.

Due to the fact that Branden was speaking on the Christmas story, I suggested the genius idea that Branden dress up in swaddling close, climb into a man-sized manger and preach his sermons from there. Now, I was not being funny at all, I was completely serious. I went on to tell him that I felt that the visual would really be an asset to his sermon points. The best part is that he sincerely agreed and did it.

There he was swaddling himself up in a blanket and climbing into the giant manger (never mind why Westside church had a giant man-sized manger) and preaching to a room full of busy, bustling teenagers. The visual will probably keep me laughing for days to come. I love that dream, I love my friend Branden, and I love laughing.

Ode to My Pops.

This past week my dear Daddy-O celebrated a birthday and I find myself compelled to compile this list of reasons why I adore my Dad.

Here goes (in no particular order)...

1. He taught me to dance...and I don't mean slow dance. My dad has won multiple dance competitions versus people half his age and has instilled in me the principle to never just stand there, you've got to BUST A MOVE. For this I am grateful.

2. He thinks I am funny and laughs at my frogginess. He may totally be faking it but regardless, he appreciates a good laugh and I dearly love to laugh with him.

3. He loves bowling as much as I do. On my last day in the States before moving to Bots, he was so committed to our mutual love for the game that he took me bowling, a date with my dad that I adore.

4. He rides a Harley and lets me come along. He nurtures his beautiful Heritage Soft Tail Harley Davidson with the an attitude of appreciation and impeccable care.

5. He is a man that prays. I know that the work of God in my life is directly related to the faithfulness of my Dad to pray. His prayers have shaped me, covered me, and allowed God to do countless miracles. There are no words to thank him for this.

6. He loves my Mum. The example and faithfulness of my parents to stick it out through thick and thin has created a heritage of faith that I am so blessed to inherit.

7. He is just really darling...now I know that guys don't like to hear that they are darling but the truth is my Dad is. He IS muscular, dapper, handsome and incredibly manly too, but he also happens to be darling, a fact that he must accept.

8. He is OCD like me. My dad is the cleanest, tidiest person I know. It has been rumored all my life that in his garage (yes, the garage is HIS room), the nails all point the same direction and you could eat off the floor. I have to say it is probably true and his OCD tendencies make me feel normal.

9. He is the definition of friendly His friendliness once made our family create a rule that says he is not allowed to talk to strangers unless they talk to him first. Deep down, I admire my Dad's friendly ways for with them he is able to make anybody feel welcome, accepted and valued. I love him for this.

10. He loves me. Sincerely, sacrificially, and consistently I never have to guess of my Dad's love for me. Whether it is in a hidden note, a quick email, or tender hug when I am home, my Dad competes vigorously to be my biggest fan. His love encourages, steadies, and strengthens me as his baby. Bottom line, I love him.

Happy Birthday Daddy O.

Thanks for being such a rad Dad.

Off the Top Of My Heart: The Sting of Sacrifice.

In the last few days, I have felt what I call the “Sting of Sacrifice.” It's that feeling that comes like an unexpected wave washing over me and leaving a pit in my stomach, not to mention my heart. Serving God in Africa is what I was created to do in this season, there is no doubt in my mind. I love serving here because God has placed His heart for this country in me. As much as my heart is filled with dreams and desires for the future, when all is said and done, all I want to do is to please God. I long to please Him in fact. He is my greatest treasure and the pursuit of all I do.

The thing I am learning, however, is that running hard after God requires sacrifice. Sometimes I forget things I have laid down in order to follow Jesus. This week I have physically felt the sacrifice. I have been weighted down with my own wonderings about the future and groan in my Spirit for the Promises of God, those gracious whispers to me, to move from faith into sight. In terms of suffering, I know the way I have felt is minimal compared to the sufferings of Christ not to mention countless brothers and sisters around the world persecuted for their faith.

My soul has found reprieve in the truth that my God is a God of grace. He knows the sting of sacrifice in me and the weight of my wonderings. Sacrificing for the sake of Christ doesn't make me noble, but it does allow me to know Jesus more. I have found myself unsure of what to do with this sting that won't leave and He gently urges me to lay it at His feet. His burden is light and He alone sees the sacrifices I have made to say, “Yes,” to Him. For me, that is enough. As I lay down my all before the Lord, my sacrifice becomes no sacrifice at all. In the light of God's mercy and grace, my life becomes an offering.

I am grateful...
That Jesus knows.
That Jesus cares.
That Jesus is at work when I can't see it.
That I belong to Him.