If We Are The Body

"I always wonder what I would do if I lived in Europe during that time. But then I remember that it's happening today, and I am doing nothing."

I whispered to my husband as we clung to each other.
Both rocked to our core by what we had just finished watching.
"The Courageous Heart of Irena Sendler."


A movie based on the life of Irena Sendler, a woman who was a Social Worker in Poland during WW2. Every day she would enter the Jewish Ghetto to bring food, blankets and medicine to the thousands crammed inside, thinking she was doing enough. Then one day she realized she wasn't, and she started to sneak children out one or two at a time.
She saved 2,500 Jewish children before being arrested. When she wouldn't give the Nazis the information they needed, they pulled her onto a table and started to beat her feet until she couldn't walk. The next day they would do that same. And the next.

What struck me the most is the faces of the two men who were holding her down while another beat her. After they were done, those two men would pull her down to her cell and throw her in.

Hatred.
Disgust.
Greed.
Anger.

That's all I could see on their faces. They enjoyed beating her, pushing her. My husband whispered "Those aren't men."
And he is right.

What man, what human being made by God let's themselves treat another human, a woman who is weaker and more vulnerable, a woman they are supposed to protect, with hatred and violence?

What kind of human being would stand by when they know that is going on?

Millions of Jews were murdered during the holocaust, the number is around 6,000,000.
Today, 27,000,000 woman and children are enslaved in human trafficking.

Did you think slavery was abolished by America's civil war? You would be wrong.

It's only grown.

But if we are the Body

Why aren't His arms reaching?

Why aren't His hands healing?

Why aren't His words teaching?

And if we are the body,

Why aren't His feet going?

Why is His love not showing them there is a way?

There is a way.

-Casting Crowns

If I say I am a Christ follower, then does that not mean I have an obligation to protect the weak? The hurting? To be His arms and feet to the lost.

When I think of someone hurting the girls in our Youth group, the precious boy I nanny, the kids I see playing around our town, I am filled with anger. I am filled with fear. I can not imagine that kind of evil, that kind of lust and greed.

And so I cling to God, I cling to His promises and I feel his urgent push, it's not so gentle anymore. How can I not do something?

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Are you going to be the one inflicting pain?

Are you going to be the one doing nothing when you know what's going on?

Or are you going to save lives?

Irena thought she was doing all she could, do you think that too?

Strangers...again.

"You keep me up at night so I'll talk to you, don't you?"

I say into the darkness. My husband is beside me, breathing steadily. He falls asleep so easily while I am left with my thoughts, and the darkness.

"Is it because that's the only time I talk to you?" This thought brings a tear that falls slowly down my face. "I'm sorry." I think about all the times I say that in a day. "I'm sorry Lord."

Then a familiar picture comes to mind, one that I have had pop into my head for years, one that I reenact and dream about time and time again.

It is my first moment in Heaven, thousands of people surround me and I gaze around in wonder. Then I see Him, Jesus, and I stop.
My mouth hangs open and I stare, dumb founded at Him. Then I see a silly, stupid, crazy, God-like grin spread upon His face and I run to Him. He grabs me and holds me tightly, like He never wants to let me go, like He has been waiting for such a long time. I cling to Him, knowing this is it, this is worth it all.

Then He laughs, a beautiful laugh that starts deep, deep inside and bubbles out, the most wonderful laugh I have ever heard. He swings me around and we both laugh and cry.
He looks at me and says "Welcome home."

And that's where it ends, there is no "Good and faithful servant." because I haven't deserved that yet. I mess up countless times.

I get angry.
I gossip.
I say no to God and His still small voice.
I am content with the mundane.
I waste hours on the Internet.
I don't do what I know I should.

And the list goes on.
I don't hear Him saying those words because I am only a little girl, who desperately tries to do what she can, what she has been taught. Whatever I do that's right is not to my credit, but only to God's. It is HIM in me that is beautiful, that is good.
He is who I will cling to when I enter Heaven, because it is His blood that has given me life, and life to the full. So I wait, and live in such a way as to deserve those words.

I tell him all of this as I lay there, listening to Jordan's breathing.

I tell my Lord all that I am thinking, I pray for my friends, for the girls in my Bible Study, that they will know they are beautiful and treasured, that God would be their comfort in this crazy adolescent time. I pray for the high school girls I recently met and was able to talk about purity with. I pray for a friend who lives in darkness, a friend who is struggling with committing all to God, wisdom for a friend in the midst of making a big decision. I pray for a friend who's birthday is tomorrow, a friend who just started a relationship, a friend who now has a new life of health after battling for years without it, a friend welcoming a baby in a few short months, a friend who longs to welcome a baby. I pray and I pray.

And then I stop, because something isn't right. "Oh shoot, I'm talking too much again, I'm sorry God, please speak to me." I say, all the while knowing that I can never stop talking or thinking long enough to hear Him, and yet He loves me still and finds countless other ways to speak to me.
But then it happens.

"Am I talking to you as if I'm a stranger?" I whisper.
"As if You are?"

Imagine, the God of the Universe, the God who created me in His image and has loved me through every moment, being a stranger. I felt like I had to introduce myself.

"I love you." I whisper.

And I see His silly, stupid, crazy, God-like grin, and I run to Him.

Crafts!!

I have a weakness. I have a lot of weaknesses, but I want to talk about this one in particular. CRAFTS! I would rather be doing crafts, making cards, scrap booking, painting, than almost anything else in the world!

My Husband is also very creative and constantly gives me ideas. Here is one of them that I made yesterday. I hesitate to post it because well, everyone else may think it's ugly but I decided to step out on a limb and do something scary! I try to do something scary everyday, here is today's.

I bought some bamboo at Ikea for $2.00 each and didn't want to buy more pots to plant them, so Jordan told me what i would need.

A yogurt container with lid, scissors, glue, thin rope or twine and potting dirt.

Not pictured- a laptop or TV with one of your favourite shows on, or favourite music playing.

This is a must.

Start by cutting off the top of the yogurt container, you don't have to, but I thought it would be easier. Then start gluing the rope or twine on to the top and keep going around in a spiral like motion. Ignore the wire, I was going to make handles but it didn't work. =)

Keep going...

And going...

...This is why you want the show or music, this craft takes a very long time.

Once it's completely covered with rope or twine, poke holes in the bottom and set it aside. Grab the yogurt lid and do what you want with it, I wrapped the rope around the outside.

Once the lid is finished, place the dirt inside and the plant. Before you water it (which should be right away) make sure the lid is underneath!

VOILA! Potted plants that cost less than $10.00! I know it's not the most elegant thing, but if you, like us, are trying to save money while decorating the house and having fun with it then I would recommend this craft!

Bamboo is a lot of fun and doesn't need direct sun light which is what we need in this house! Especially in the winter. I hope you enjoyed!

Complacency

"How did I get here again? Didn't I just leave?

I TOLD YOU I DON'T LIKE THIS PLACE.

Please, bring me back. Hello? Hello?! I know you're there, I can hear you. Why can't I understand you? I said I needed your help but not here. Please not here. It's cold, it's dark, and I'm all alone.

Will I ever escape? I don't remember how I did it last time, did I push down the walls? Did I run?
Think. Why did I end up here again?

Oh. Oh no. No please. I want to forget. Hello? Why can't you just talk to me? I know you can help, you could make this go away. It would be easier than breathing. I can't do it on my own. I don't want to even move. I was so happy before, for a little while. Wasn't I?

...No, it was complacency that I felt. But I was starting to feel better, I was starting to smile, to think of other things. I even laughed. Really laughed. Do I have to fake that again? I know in You I have freedom, but bondage is sometimes easier to bear.

Did you hear that? Do you hear me? What's happened to me?

I used to be so free, so protected. I used to go to sleep at night knowing I was safe, knowing I had no burdens to bear. Do you remember me twirling in my living room dressed all in pink, pretending I was a ballerina? Dancing. But I wanted to grow up, I wanted to leave home. Could you bring me back there? I could be a child forever.
But no, I can't.

Can you at least make me complacent again? I don't like this. I don't want to feel. I messed up I know but I don't know any other way. You're too perfect. I'm too messy. I'm sorry."


Suddenly the girl awoke, she looked around her and realized she was in a ballroom. A huge ballroom with golds, greens, blues and purples surrounding her in pictures on the wall. Her ears caught a familiar sound and she could faintly hear music playing all around her. She turned to go, knowing that this was no place for her, for a sinner. But a breeze opened the door, holding her in place. There He was, blocking the doorway. "NO!" she cried. "I told you, I don't want to feel!"
He didn't move, but a slow grin spread upon His face as he held out His hand. He waited. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Five seconds was all it took for her hand to reach his. She held her head down, ashamed and He gently pushed her chin up until she was looking into His eyes. Eyes she knew and loved. All she saw was love. He held her close and as they moved, the music once faint grew and grew. She knew this song, it was their song. How could she have forgotten? This is where she belonged.
"Will I leave again?" She whispered
Instead of answering, He held her closer and said "I will always find you."

Hungry?

We recently arrived back from two weeks away and were planning on replenishing our fridge as soon as we got back. It has now been 6 days and we've had no time to shop.
It's amazing what we've been finding in our pantry and fridge that we normally don't use because of all the other food we have. The only fruit we have is a bag of apples and let me tell you, we are finding very interesting ways to use apples. Last night our snack was popcorn and Jordan said "Apple cinnamon popcorn!" So apple cinnamon popcorn it was, I have never heard of such a thing but it was so good!
The hardest thing to go without though, is milk. Mainly because of tea, though Jordan does need his cereal. Guess what? We found out we have powdered milk! I was surprised that it tastes relatively the same and when I needed my chai yesterday, powdered milk was excited to step in for the real kind.

If someone were to come to our house and open our fridge they would probably think we were fasting. But the truth is, we haven't gone hungry once. Even though our usual food is missing and we finished our last frozen pizza yesterday, we still have enough to make apple cinnamon popcorn.

The first few months of being a bride were so exciting for me. I finally was able to cook for someone and show my husband how talented I am! So I bought lots of groceries and started trying out all the best recipes. We ate very well but soon found out that I had gone a little over budget. OK, I had managed to go a LOT over budget.
Lately I've been realizing that just because we need to eat well and food is everywhere around us in this country, it doesn't mean we can't be frugal with our meals. I bought a book called "Cut Your grocery Bill in Half with America's Cheapest Family" by Steve and Annette Economides. Definitely a recommended read!
I have found some very helpful tips, tips that are incredibly simple and should be used by everyone. They go on a huge grocery shopping trip once a month and the next day cook meals they then freeze and use throughout the month. When they run out of fruit, milk and such they go back to the grocery store.
I am starting slow and going every two weeks because we don't have a deep freezer yet. One tip I have been using is writing down our meal plan each week and schedule so we know when we only have half an hour to cook and eat (this happens often) and when we have a few hours so I can take my time.

I have been thinking about food, and cooking, and meal plans for a while. Especially since our food has been sparse here. At the same time, I have become a "Compassion advocate" an organization I've talked about before in this blog (the month of November), one I have wanted to be involved in since I was a little girl! I am trying to find a home for 6 more children, and only have their packets till January 31st.
We sponsor two children and I know they have a much different view of food planning that I do. Now that they are in Compassions system, they have food to eat, they know that their next meal will be soon, even if it's only rice and beans. But there are millions of women and mothers who can't plan their meals per week, much less per day. They can't show off their talent to their husbands and children because there is no food.

Here I am in Canada with tons of food in my cupboards that I never eat unless we have nothing else to eat, and I think that we hardly have any food. Can you imagine one of those women coming to my house? She would have a feast!
I'm embarrassed of my wealth, though by this country's standards we have none! I'm embarrassed of my complaints and thoughts that we don't have enough.
When I went to the Dominican Republic at 17 years of age and saw first hand how amazing the organization Compassion is, I resolved never to say "I'm starving" again. And I haven't. Because I've seen starving. I saw the kids on the street, their bellies sticking out, their arms and legs nothing but bones. And I saw the joyful faces on the children who were sponsored with Compassion. Even though they have nothing compared to us, they had more than we ever will. They escaped from poverty, from day to day hunger. I want more children to escape, which is why I signed on to be an advocate.

Don't worry, I'm going shopping today and plan to make some amazing meals for my hard working husband. As we sit at the table, we will thank God for the food and both of us will think of all those who can't say that. And then we will eat.

Always

Music moves me. It envelopes me whenever I hear it. I can't explain the effect it has on me in words. It brings me to tears, it stops me in my tracks, it teaches me more than a sermon ever could and it makes me move wherever I'm at. Yes, I am one of those strange people you see moving to their own beat, seen or unseen. Whenever I hear music I can't help but dance. Which I'm sure has raised some eyebrows in our Baptist Church.
Lately music has been making me close my eyes and cry silent tears. But not any kind of music, music about Jesus. About His love for me and mankind. Songs that speak of His healing touch, His grace.
I can't explain that either, I think it comes from a deep assurance that no matter what happens, He is with me. That sentence should be in flashing colours with fireworks shooting from it.

He is with me when I feel like a failure. He is with me when the dishes are piled high and I am on a campaign to rid the world of bathrooms to clean. He is with me when I can't sleep because pain that I can't bear is too great. He is with me when I scream out WHY? into the silent house. He is with me when I laugh at my Husband's impression of me saying "Just love meeeeee." He is with me when I wish friends were closer and when I rejoice that my best friend is ten minutes away! He is with me when I know it's my fault the fight started but am never the first one to say I'm sorry. He is with me when I dream about the future and our 9 children. HE IS WITH ME.

My husband always prays for God to be with so and so, and I've told him that you never have to ask that of God. It says in the Bible "And lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age."
Wow! The God of the Universe is with me and you always. That makes me incredibly thankful and totally embarrassed. He's seen it all. The times I gossip, lie, cheat and fight. And I'm glad. Because I can't hide anything from Him yet He loves me and is with me always.


That's enough to make me cry tears of thankfulness. What about you?

You are My Hiding Place

"You are my hiding place, you always fill my heart with songs of deliverance.
Whenever I am afraid I will trust in you.

I will trust in you.
Let the weak say I am strong
In the strength of the Lord."

Hug a Pastor's Wife

I haven't written in a while. Mostly because I don't know where to start, or what to write. Even now I have no idea what word will come next.

Our life is so full right now, but I am once again broken. Do you ever feel that way? Right now I am listening to a song and this is what I hear- "When I'm broken, scared by sin, death gives way to life again. when I suffer, when I'm down, in YOU I'm free, in YOU I'm found." (You're Not Shaken by Phil Stacey)

Isn't it funny how God works?

My help comes from the Lord.

I have been realizing how completely incapable I am to do this "job" of a Pastor's Wife. In fact I sometimes detest it. (shock!) It's lonely. It's tiring. It's discouraging. It's annoying. It's heart breaking. It's busy. It's draining. Did I mention it's lonely?

I never thought I would write that in this blog. In my nightmares I can see the people in our church reading it and pulling me aside. Writing this must mean I'm really crazy.

The fact is, our church is wonderful, most of the people are wonderful and I feel so blessed to be serving there.

But another fact? No matter what church a Pastor and Pastor's wife serve at, it will ALWAYS be discouraging and draining and lonely at some point.

Why is that? Why Lord?

Because people are lonely, and discouraging, annoying, busy and draining. Anyone who works with people or is a person knows that!

I have always had the dream to work overseas. Specifically to work at or start an orphanage. I long to look after orphans and widows in their distress as the last few verses of James tell us perfect 'religion' is. Maybe God has that in our future, I don't know. What I do know is, we are called to be in this little town on the prairies, and that is where we will be till God calls us elsewhere. Orphans and widows, people in need, are not only overseas. but right here. I long to be His hands and feet, to say YES to God daily for whatever He asks. I need to remind myself of that so often! Satan seeks to kill and destroy, especially those who know the Lord is their hope and I will not let him do that to me or my husband.

I'm sorry if my thoughts don't make sense, I am writing from somewhere deep down that even I don't understand. I am slowly starting to grasp my role as my Husbands helper. And I am in no means wanting sympathy. Our life is so full remember? And rich. I am blessed beyond measure.

We were told by a dear friend that ministry during your first year of marriage is not the smartest idea and I now see why. At the time I said that if we weren't doing this, we would be doing some other kind of ministry for that is where our hearts are! And it's true. But every now and then I am reminded of that conversation and have a very different response in mind.

It is crazy, our schedule is WAY too busy for a first year of marriage. But I have resolved never to be that person that when asked how I am I always respond with "So busy!" And then talk for twenty minutes about why to the poor person who asked.

Life will always be busy. I would much rather have it busy then sit around doing nothing, I have been there and will take this life over that one any day.

So, what am I trying to say in this pathetic post? Life is not rosy as a Youth Pastor's wife, it's busy and sometimes heart breaking but it is RICH in all things good. There is never a dull moment.

Could you do something for me though? The next time you see your Pastors wife, give her a hug. Heaven knows she needs it.