Simple Moments.

I am a blogging misfit as of late.

I am sorry...more for me then for you.

It is no secret that I love writing and this new trend of reenacting a chicken-with-its-head-cut-off (which is frightening in real life, I have seen it in person, believe me) has caused this love to escape me. This frankly, will not do.

So, I promise I am back. Even if I write short little snippets, I will write. You have my word on it. Ha.

Lately with the craziness of my life consumed by lesson planning and teaching for the masses (and I mean literally, “the masses” I think I am up to about 170 students), I have been struck with the simple little moments that make it all worth it. These seemingly mundane and otherwise insignificant moments that make this little chica squeal inside. When these moments are stirred altogether, they become a recipe that mixes perfectly into a life of rich fullness with the sweetest aroma.

Delectable Moments As of Late...

My nephew Joshua (by choice, age 2) laying his sweet head on my shoulder and patting my arm while we read Martha Stewart's Living together on the sofa. That little fella melts my heart in a hundred million ways.

The youthers playing endless games of Skipbo in sweltering heat while incessantly laughing, chatting, and savoring each others' company. Oh, the delight of family.

The brilliant musical happenings of two of my high school students who agreed to beat box and “free flow” rap for me at break time. “Miss J” got a shout out like you wouldn't believe.

Opening up my birthday packages from home with endless giftings and finding not 1 BUT 4 boxes of Cracklin' Oat Bran. It is the little things people, little indeed.

My 6^th grade darlings presenting me with my birthday present that was a pretty little bag filled with:

3 small bags of chips, 2 oranges, 1 yogurt, 5 sweets, 2 pieces of bubble gum, 2 juice boxes, and exactly $1.12 in coins (in Pula, naturally). Makes you wonder what they all ate for lunch that day, ne? Oh, the sweetness of sincere sacrifice.

Having the joy of busting a' move alongside my fellow African teachers in honor of Botswana Day and Shakira's, Waka, Waka dance. I was rewarded with a, “Well done, Mam, well done,” from my students whose faces were painted with shock. They just never knew I had it in me.

Phone calls on my way to teach from beloved, missed friends at home that have me laughing so hysterically that I look I have been weeping (and if you know me, well, you know I had been) as I go to teach. I am crazy about a hearty laugh.

Countless uniform-clad little African darlings racing to greet me along the path with ear to ear grins. The endless echoes of “Hello, Miss Javens,” across the school yard from squirmy littles.

Befriending Walter-the postman, who waited an hour and a half at the central post office to fetch my birthday packages which seemed to be “lost” and then miraculously “found.” Getting long-awaited birthday packages ON your actual birthday...priceless. Walter, I couldn't have done it without you.

Hearing the mysterious whispers of Hope at the most unexpected times. Sensing unexplainable joy rise up when circumstances in no way warrant it. Sensing the nearness of my God who can't be seen but is at work in powerful, miraculous ways all around me.

These moments make up my life.

This life I have been given... is certainly a good.

God's Word Blows My Mind.

So, there is the verse that I can't get over. I am totally in love with its consistent ability to blow my mind, shoot adrenaline into my faith-life and make me smile. The thing is God's Word IS living and active and when I found myself waning in the faith department the HS reminded me of this little treasure. Not only that, He dared me to put my name in it and to dream big. He is just good like that.

I know that this verse recounts the glory of the fabulous faith of Abraham but I have found it my goal and prayer that this verse could also be said about me when I am old and gray. For effectiveness sake, I have included my name right next to Abe's (feel free to plug your little name in there too!) as verses 24 promises that the same goes for us if we dare to outrageously believe God. I am in. You?

The Original...
Romans 4:20-22
“Abraham never wavered in believing God's promises. In fact, his faith grew stronger, and in this he brought glory to God. He was absolutely convinced that God was able to anything he promised. And because of Abraham's faith, God declared him to be righteous.”


The “Yes and AMEN to that!” Version...
“[Jenna] never wavered in believing God's promises. In fact, [her] faith grew stronger, and in this [she] brought glory to God. [She] was absolutely convinced that God was able to anything he promised. And because of [Jenna's] faith, God declared [her] to be righteous.”

Obedience is Bliss.

Living in a house with a 2 ½ year old lends itself quite easily to repeated lessons on the topic of obedience. It is a fact that on any given you day you will undoubtedly hear the words, “Joshua, listen and OBEY,” uttered with forced-patience from the lips of his Mom, Dad, or me, his Auntie. I am finding that obedience sometimes is a funny thing. From the youngest age so many of us form ideas on this slippery little word that relates the action with either reward or punishment. Sadly, obedience tends to become associated with being forced to submit and do the things that we do not want to do.

The thing is that God didn't create obedience that way.

This morning while reading the somewhat dismal judgments on the rebellion of God's people in the book of Ezekiel, I found this little verse (actually repeated twice so you know it HAS to be important!) that popped out at me and shown a pretty little light on obedience.

Ezekiel 20:13

“...They [The Israelites] wouldn't obey my instructions even though obedience would have given them life.”

Let this truth of God's Word settle a bit in your spirit...Obedience gives LIFE. I can tell you there is this unspeakable joy, peace, and richness to a life lived in obedience to the will of God. It is not a life lived in numb, mindless obedience but rather a life fully alert to God's very best and willing to jump right in. I have gone through seasons where obedience was not fun and was for sure a choice of my will, but the more I allow the Holy Spirit to work in my life this remarkable thing happens...I actually become delighted to obey the Lord. Yep, it is totally true.

As I thought over this alternative perspective on obedience before the Lord this morning, I felt my heart begin to ask some thrilling questions they may challenge the way you view obedience too.

What if the things God is asking us to do in obedience were actually the very things we desired to do most? ...Then obedience would be easy and delightful.

What if we viewed obedience as a way to express our love for a God who has done more then we can fathom? ...Then obedience would be intimate.

What if I allowed my heart to be so tuned to the Spirit of God that it was easy for me to hear and know what God would ask of me? ...Then obedience would give purpose.

What if we just simply trusted that God is for us and obeyed Him?

...Then we would find this life God speaks of.

Obedience will always be a matter of the heart.

I so desperately desire my heart to be in step with all the marvelous plans of my God for me that obedience is no longer a duty but a pleasure. For obedience truly is bliss.

I Spy.

So, I realize I have been absent for a bit and thus I thought I would break the silence with a nonsensical thought that has been bouncing around my noggin'.

I occasionally get emails from the American Consulate & Embassy in my little inbox. Sometimes the info is of the mundane nature (fees being raised) and other times if is shocking (multiple gang attacks targeting foreigners at the mall I frequent, no worries).
Regardless of the email's contents, the bottom of each email reads...

“This email is UNCLASSIFIED”

This sentence leaves me with the suspense and anticipation that someday I will actually receive an email on the contrary with four little words filled with intrigue and espionage possibilities...

“This email is CLASSIFIED.”

If only, people, if only. I will keep you posted.
However, if I tell you, I may have to kill you.

2010 FIFA World Cup: The Noisiest Classroom There Is.

Who would have thought that FIFA's 2010 World Cup would prove to be such a willing teacher? I sure did not and yet, with these matches being in my backyard so to speak, I have consistently learned new and surprising things about myself. In honour of this momentous event coming to a close I feel inspired to share these new realizations. Here goes (in no particular order)...

I DO enjoy watching soccer on TV. Who knew? I had no idea. I have never before been so captivated and addicted to watching any sport on television. In the past I have naively claimed that watching soccer on TV is like watching chaotic ants dancing. Alas, it is not so. The rhythm and precision with which which these players execute their moves is mesmerizing. After all of these years I admit I was wrong. I love the World Cup.

I am diseased. All along I have been infected with a disease that has only now come to my attention...I call it the “Unable-to-keep-your-mouth-shut-during-a-match-disease.” There is no possible way for me to watch a soccer game and not a)Hold one-sided convos with players/teams b) Make ridiculously embarrassing sounds of excitement, despair, or any other emotion that arises. c) Feel the need to offer my verbal condolences to the losing side. It's an illness and I am looking into getting medication.

Vuvuzelas are our friends. Having lived in Africa for multiple years I have already had time to develop a relationship with the obnoxiously loud and uncalled for nature of a Vuvuzela. But guess what? It is physically possible to develop immunity to the incessant hooting of this excessively used celebratory instrument. I know, because I have. It is brilliant. Attention: Vuvuzela-ers...hoot away at all hours of the night for no apparent reason, your racket is dead to me. HA.

Player look-alikes. I have begun to take note that far too many times I have looked at a myriad of players and said to myself, “Oh my goodness, that Spanish (German, Uraguan, fill-in-country-here) player looks just like [so and so] from home!” Can it really be that these players really,truly look like my guys friends from home? I doubt it. Having the same freckles, facial hair and hair colour does not a look-alike make. Homesick much?

Work out regime. When it comes to watching the World Cup matches I can't not care. Me caring means that for the entire 90+ minutes I have every muscle in my body clenched as deep stress and excitement overtakes me. Thus I have inserted this viewing pleasure as part of my weekly work routine. Boy, am I toned let me tell you.

I Heart Soccer Talk. I am completely obsessed with holding conversations with knowledgeable soccer fans (usually of the male persuasion) whilst dropping impressive soccer vocabulary, repeating what I heard analyst say the night before, and giving my take on the previous match. I even got into a convo with my trainer at the gym this week. I sounded so smooth and soccer-educated you have no idea.

Compassion. I am sad to say that the close of the World Cup does offer me some relief. One thing I have definitely learned about myself is that I am WAY too compassionate during these games. Every missed goal, every goal keeper mistake, every team error twists my heart in pain as compassion overwhelms. I have to cover my eyes when they show the losers on their knees crying and for some reason I find myself channeling the players' moms and imagining how heartbroken their Mommy's are. I realize this is weird but I can't help it. I wish I could transport myself into the TV at times and give these sad little fellas a hug. If only. It would really do my vicariously-aching heart some good.

Soccer, Futbol, Football...Call it what you like. It's a beautiful game.

Oh, and GO SPAIN!!!!!

Road Trip Revelation.

My fresh revelation for today...neither holy nor anointed, but still just as true.

I have begun to view my 2 hour (round trip) drive from my village to "town," as a road trip.
I know this because I find myself incessantly overcome with the urge to purchase road trip edible essentials every time I am heading home.

You know the stuff they sell right by the register? Yea, that stuff.
Sad thing is the urge too often gives way to purchasing. Now road trips are awesome because you can embrace the beef jerky, pop, candy and sweets guilt free because you can justify it as necessary sustenance for the once in a blue moon journey. It is part of the "road trip experience." Trouble is that I make this trek almost everyday...sometimes twice.

Have you ever considered what might happen if you, too, viewed your commute as if it were a road trip. Yes, it is a scary, scary thing indeed. But then again, somewhat thrilling too.

Choose Faith.

Hebrews 11:40

God had a better plan for us: that their faith [The faith of the Saints before us] and our faith would come together to make one completed whole, their lives of faith not complete apart from ours.

The faith of the Saints that have gone before me is not complete until I walk the path of faith that God has set before me. My faith completes and bring wholeness to their picture of faith. Their faith beckons me on to believe when things look impossible, to walk in hope, and to cast aside the tendency to make decisions based on sight. My faith will also blaze the trail for those that follow behind me.

Today, I feel the responsibility and thrill of being a woman of faith.

My mustard seed faith is part of a masterpiece that God is preparing for His glory.

In the depths of my heart I just get this sense that, Jesus, the Author and Finisher of my faith is not finished writing my story quite yet. And so, today I simply and sincerely choose faith.