This is a post I have been rolling around in my head for weeks now. I don’t have any complete thoughts about it because it is still so relevant to me, but I am going to try my best to put into words my recent thoughts and feelings about ministry life.

Recently, I have found myself doing countless things that I don’t feel capable of. I’m ashamed to admit that in the last weeks I have not been the “faithful servant” God asks us to be. Instead I have been stuck in a combination of confused, frustrated, heartbroken, and angry. God has put things in my hands lately that I just want to get rid of. I immediately want to drop it on the ground and stomp it to pieces, or pass it on to someone else as fast as I can hot-potato style. But instead of smashing it, passing it on, or pretending it’s not there, I have to take it, embrace it, nurture it, and make it work.

This season is a hard one. I am frustrated because no matter how hard I try I am not good at a lot of things. I like to be right. I like to have the right answers, to have it all together, to know what I’m doing. But I don’t, and I haven’t for quite awhile now. It’s a humbling thing to be bad at something, and yet still have to do it on a regular basis.

Most days when I am working at the orphanage or in the village I get this overwhelming feeling that I am way out of my range of abilities. I am not a teacher. I am not an evangelist, I am not a cook, I am not a shopper, I am not a doctor, and the list goes on…. I am not a lot of things. Yet, here I am, teaching, evangelizing, cooking, shopping, doctoring etc. And it hurts. The weight and stress of  teaching Bible lessons, caring for sick children, loving on desperate moms, nurturing hurting kids, and the over all heart brokenness is getting to me. I am tired of the people I love being used and abused. I am tired of helpless children being hurt for the amusement of others. I am tired of seeing my friends go without food. I am tired of sickness, of pain, of suffering. I am tired of children being abandoned. I am tired of seeing so many people written off as unimportant, useless, and worthless.

I am not a lot of things, but I am a follower of Christ, and his servant, a slave to righteousness, a light in darkness, an ambassador of hope. And for that reason, I keep going. It’s the reason I don’t roll over into a hole and cry. Every day I wake up with purpose. And most days that purpose requires me to do a lot of things that I’m not good at.  
God has been working in my heart, humbling me, preparing me, nurturing me, and so many other things. I feel content and joyful, but my heart continues to break. God is my hope, my rock, my foothold, my love, and it is He that will repair these broken hearts, heal the sick, love the hurting, all I have to do is show up and be willing. And that is one of the things I'm really good at.

Romans 6:16 says “Don't you realize that you become the slave of whatever you choose to obey? You can be a slave to sin, which leads to death, or you can choose to obey God, which leads to righteous living.”

I have chosen to obey God, and now I have to do what it is He has given me to do.

She looks at me and her eyes are without hope. Her children are working on a craft a few feet away. They act as if everything is normal, giggling at one another as they color the pictures with the “wrong” colors. I look at them and smile, glad that something so small can bring them joy, but when I turn back around, all I can see is the mask, a smile on her lips, but not in her eyes.

Their mother is 28 years old, but her eyes speak of a long and hard life. I don’t know what to say to her. But right as I open my mouth, she begins to speak. She tells me she feels powerless, useless, and hopeless. She is trying her hardest, but nobody is satisfied and the less satisfied they are, the more cautious and timid she becomes. Their criticism is killing her, and she doesn’t know how to keep going, especially now that her husband is threatening divorce.  She tries to smile at me, but instead a cry of embarrassment comes from her mouth and tears start rolling down her face. No words come. I just hold her in my arms, praying that God will give me the words when the time is right.

After a few minutes of a silent embrace she lifts her head and asks me something I was not prepared for. She asks me if they are right; If she is really a bad mother because she has chosen to care for an injured man and her elderly father in law as well as her three children even though she barely has the money to feed herself; If she is really a failure because her son is can’t seem to focus in school and has been reported for bad behavior yet again; If she is worthless because she can’t find a job with the little education she has; If she is stupid for putting others before herself, feeding her children while she doesn’t eat for days.

Her head is downcast, kicking the loose dust back and fourth, packing it into her dirt floors. I grab her hand, and she lifts her face but her eyes avoid mine. Before I can think of the right way to say it my anger slips through and all I say is, “No. They couldn’t be more wrong”

Her eyes look at me like what I am saying she has never heard before. My mind tells me to stop talking. I just called her mother, husband, sister and pastor liars, I could probably just shut up and everything would be okay, but my mouth doesn’t close and my sermon begins.

This woman is the strongest, most courageous, selfless, humble woman I have ever met; yet the world tells her differently.

Today she found hope.

We read through the Bible, jumping verse-to-verse reading what the Word says about us, the children of God.  The eyes that were once hopeless and broken lit with fire. All of a sudden her value didn’t come from what her family and friends said about her, but what God says about her.

She is made in his image. She is fearfully and wonderfully made. She is capable. She is valued. She is courageous. She is beautiful. And she is loved.

This is what empowerment is. This is what the Bible teaches us. This is forgiveness. This is a second chance. This is what it means to be valued, not for how much money you make or your fancy diplomas but because the King of the Universe is your father, and you are worth something.

Pure and Genuine Religion

They tell me to “hold them loosely” but as hard as I try, I can’t loosen my grip. At least not yet. 

My heart was never prepared for this. Growing up in Tulsa, Oklahoma, I have had the same friends since before I could even speak. We have pictures together eating animal crackers in the church nursery and dressed up in high heals with lipstick all over our faces at each others slumber parties. Never have I been good at letting go, for I have never had much practice. 

Since moving to Guatemala I have seen so many people, loving, passionate, wonderful people, walk out of my life just as quickly as they walked in. This life is transient. People come and go, and growing close to anyone is one of my greatest fears, for the fear of later losing them. 

Yet here I am, working with and growing daily closer and more in love with the children of Casa del Destino (House of Destiny) knowing in the back of my mind that at some point I will have to let my grip relax, and let these sweet children walk away to their new life. Their life without me. People try to encourage me, “They will be so happy with their new family,” “they deserve this,” and all I can say is I know. I know these kids will be so happy and blessed by their new families. I know God hand picked their families for them. I know that they have the right to a family that loves them. I know they have a destiny to do amazing things whether we are in the picture or not, but until that day comes, I will not let them go.

While they are here, while they are with us, we get to hold them as tight as possible. They are ours until they are not. I will not hold them loosely. I will hold them as tightly snuggled to my chest as I possibly can until there is somebody else to take my place, because they also deserve that.  Happiness doesn’t start the day they get adopted, it starts the day Casa del Destino receives them, for the house I work in is full of people, me included, who love no matter the turn out. 

A few weeks ago one of our babies got adopted out of our house. I know that his adoption is exactly what God had planned for him, but though that makes it easier to let go, it doesn’t make the pain go away. Pablo’s name still comes up daily at the house. The workers and I talk about him and day dream about what he might be doing at the moment. The other kids tell stories that start with “Remember that time Pablo...” and pray for him at the dinner table and before bed. We talk about how he made us laugh, and how sometimes we still think “OH! I better go get Pablo!” and then remember that that is not our job anymore, but his mom’s. His absence has left a Pablito sized hole in our house. And it’s a hole that will never go away. Pablo belonged with us until he belonged with them.  His sweet smile, his little booty crack showing when his diaper was heavy,  and Elvis style hair will never be forgotten. For this little guy changed our hearts and our lives just by living and loving us. 

Kids have the ability to change people without trying. Have you ever heard a mom say, “I was the most prepared mom in the world, until I saw his face, then everything changed and all of a sudden I had no clue”? Well they say it not because it’s the cliche thing to say but because its true. 

Kids push us to our limits. They have the ability to infuriate you, only to smile a second later, melting away all rage. They have the gift of finding your buttons and pushing them over and over again, like one of those annoying baby pianos that everyone- except the parents who live with it- think are “cute”. Yet, in all of that craziness, kids also have the ability to melt your heart, make you a better person, teach you to love, teach you what it means to sacrifice, and break your heart only to put it back together with their little pudgy fingers. 

Right now, in this country there are hundreds of thousands of kids that have been abandoned, left in the streets, their parents have died or simply lost their rights to them. There are kids who have never known the love of an earthly father, never even seen his face, never known his name. There are kids who have nothing and no one because their parents couldn’t or wouldn’t go through the challenges in order to have the greatest privilege the world can offer- raising a child. 

Right now, Casa del Destino, the orphanage that I work at, has felt in their hearts that it is time to take in more babies. When babies come to the home we never know what condition they will be in or what their stories are. Sometimes we don’t even know their full name or date of birth, but what we do know is from that day on that baby will be fed, clothed, held, taught, played with, prayed over, and most importantly, it will be oh so loved. 

In order for this to happen, we need money. To be honest, sometimes the numbers seem like too much, but we know and will speak in faith when we say that God WILL provide, not just for us, but for the precious children we have yet to know. God already knows them, already loves them, and already has a beautiful plan for them. 

Because I know you are wondering, it costs about $450 a month to clothe, feed, diaper, and care for a child in our home. 

The children that come to us are special. They have a destiny and God planned future, that we get to be a part of. I promise, I will get attached, and some day, much like the day Pablo left us, I will have to loosen my grip on them and let them go, but until that day, we will love them and do everything we can to let them know that their Heavenly Father wants them, loves them, and will fight to have them by his side. 

Letting go will never be something I get used to. Having people leave is never easy, but loving them is always worth it. God works in ways that are so powerful and mysterious that we may never know what comes from our actions, words, gifts, prayers, but I assure you that they will be used. 

In order to invest in the life of a child, to save them from the streets, clean them up, and give them a home, you can pray for us, share this post, click the like button, or donate. Please, don’t forget about us. The harvest is great... 

"Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you" James 1:27

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Checks made payable to Going Into all the World Ministries and sent to PO BOX 79638 Saginaw TX 76179.

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Religion Rant

Sometimes in order to get words to flow from my mouth, I have to first let them flow onto paper, so here I am exercising my words, my thoughts, my opinions, my life. I've been listening to a lot of sermon's lately. It seems that when my words seem to quit flowing, the words of others do an incredible job of relighting a fire in my soul. If you haven't ever listened to Ed Gungor's sermons... you should. His words and the light that flows from them challenges me in ways that my eager heart needs and craves. Awhile back we had this movement of a bunch of hipster Christians that "hated religion". I, admittedly, was one of them. I spoke the words, "It's not a religion, it's a relationship" Lord only knows how many times, and ranted about how the church has turned this incredible relationship into something so much less like a passionate love story and more like a grudge filled check list.
Well, this is my new rant. What I have learned in the past months is that to love is to work. It's not convenient. It doesn't always feel good. And at times the big bright exit sign seems to be flashing in neon lights. But love says that quitting isn't an option because for whatever reason, doing something I hate for someone I love is worth it.
Let's get real. Who really enjoys reading Leviticus? I'm attempting for the first time to read the Bible all the way through within this year. I was doing what I considered a great job until I reached the point that I had to read Leviticus. (It goes out of order, so really it was like 4 months into the process). Let me tell you, Leviticus is NOT a fun book to read. Every night when I sat down to read I found myself repenting that I just couldn't get myself to care. I read with heavy eyes, grudging through each new way to kill and eat some animal to atone for this or that sin, and I must say, I found myself praying that God would give me supernatural reading abilities so I could get through it faster. But you know what? It wasn't for nothing. Though I have yet to have a deep conversation with anyone on the subject of Leviticus, I realized during the week it took me to read it that my love for the Lord was growing. The inspiring, uplifting, challenging verses are great, and they have got me through a lot of stuff, but for whatever reason, the fact that I was reading something so utterly uninteresting to me because I said I would changed my perspective on so many things. You see, relationships are not easy. I can't imagine my mother ever saying that she loved changing diapers so much that every time she did it just lit a little fire in her soul. No, I happen to know my mother does not really enjoy changing diapers, but she did it because she loved me, and for whatever reason, she loves me more because of the innumerable diapers she changed in my babyhood. That, my friends, it what makes love grow.
It's the gross things, the wiping of the snot, the diaper cleaning, the chores, the errands, the nasty that helps love grow. Please don't get me wrong, I'm not saying reading the Bible, praying, fasting, and such is nasty, but I must admit, sometimes it's just not desirable. I mean, we live in the world of Netflix, Facebook, Twitter and the like, and all these things scream CONSUME, while the Lord says, SACRIFICE.
So no matter how much you hate it or how "little time" you have, read your Bible. Grudge your way through Leviticus, and talk to God during the day, more than just meal times. Sacrifice something. It SUCKS, let me tell you, but that's what makes that "passionate relationship" with your Savior more than just a book full of inspiring quotes and a cool Jesus t-shirt. It makes it real. You have to have some religion to have a relationship. You have to have a relationship for the religion to be worth it. So don't go all one way or all the other. The check list wont get you to heaven. In fact you may make it to the pearly gates with all your checks in the boxes just for the Lord of the Universe to say "I never knew you." You may get there, expecting your WWJD bracelet and your "Jesus is my homeboy" shirt to be enough to give you a pass to the streets of gold, and Jesus will just look at you and shake his head, tears in his eyes, sad that for all that time and all your best intentions, you missed it.


^{Matthew 7:21-23}  “Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven. ²² Many will say to Me in that day, ‘Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and done many wonders in Your name?’ ²³ And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from Me'.

John 12:25
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"Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life."

And the Walls Came Crumbling Down

As here I sit, on my comfy new couch, pictures strewn across the floor, the dishes from dinner with my neighbors piled up in the sink, and the rain falling peacefully on my metal roof one word fills my heart: contentment. In the past month or two I have found that Guatemala is becoming deeper etched into my soul. My dreams have been filled with laughing children, profound ideas, and an ever expanding promise. I don't know what God has for me in the next weeks, months, years, etc. but I do know that where I am right now is exactly where I'm supposed to be and that God is taking advantage of every second of it.

Never has my heart been more exposed than it is now. Yet never has it been more secure in the hands of my Savior, my Protector and Friend.  I have fallen in love with this place, and the people who fill it. I have brought people close, loved them like I would never have let myself before, and opened my heart, praying that the the benefits and relationships from this will outweigh the hurt that could come at any given moment. 

One thing I have come to know full well is that building walls and guarding my heart, keeps people from seeing the One who lives in it. In the past I decided that building walls was the easiest way to survive. With walls in place it was nearly impossible to get hurt, and when someone or something mades it over the wall, it meant I needed to build them stronger, higher, and thicker. I hid my heart away from anything that could bring me pain. Though I appeared like a happy, genuine, sincere person, my heart was far away, practically unapproachable. My heart was safe, yes. But I came to realize that in all the world there was practically nobody who knew what was behind those gargantuan man made barriers. The most tender part of my soul was locked away, only occasionally slipping through the thin cracks and after years of being shut in, it hurt more to stay that way than to set myself free. So a few short months ago the demolition process began. I started to tear the walls down, brick by brick, and with every piece that fell to the ground I began to share the real me and I began to get hurt. As the pain came and went, I began to realize the changes happening not only in me and my relationship with my Savior, but with the people around me. My vulnerability and weakness was more attractive than my falsified strength. People were no longer attracted to me, but rather attracted to the One who sustained me. It was then that I realized that the only way to truly submit to God's will for me is to have faith that he will give me the strength to overcome any situation, and that even when I feel like my heart is broken forever, He can fix it. 

It constantly amazes me how God can use things that feel like tragedies to further his Kingdom. I'm beginning to trust that each little heartbreak and each disappointment is simply because of my lack of faith and twisted perspective. God smiles at me, and just shakes his head the way any father does when their kid does something dumb, puts me back on my feet and encourages me to take the next step, only looking back to see that where I fell was the exact thing I needed to keep moving forward. Even when I betray Him, throw up my walls, and hide my face from him, it is His faithfulness never fails.  

X Marks the Spot

I feel like I am shamelessly free for the first time in my life. I am free to love people. Free to serve. Free to do the things that God has sown in my heart since childhood. Every day, my heart prayer is to be used. To be a living example and to be constantly humbled. Years ago, my dream was Guatemala. In my mind Guatemala was the big red X that marked the spot where dreams come true. My years of schooling and education was all about getting through. I found myself going through the motions and following the dash lines on the map, just praying I could hold on until I could finally reached the final stop, the idealized goal.
Since I can remember, I spent my Saturdays watching some kind of adventure movie, curled up on the couch with my dad. During the commercial breaks we joked about the unrealistic circumstances, talked about how the story had to end, and laughed and teased about the protagonist's journey to whatever God forsaken country or cave full of treasures. The entire movie is leading up to the point that the characters, despite their many trials, meet this one moment, this one place. Rarely do we see what comes after the fact. What do the characters do once they have fulfilled their lifelong struggle to find the big red X on the map of life?
Last year, I got on a plane, my daddy and oldest brother in tow, and reached my idealized destination. Months later, the question hit me... what do I do next? I have reached my goal. Now what? I can't just sit here and stare at the treasure that took me so long to find. I have to do something.
I live in what I consider the most beautiful country full of the most beautiful people on this earth. (Sure, I might be a little biased). I am surrounded by people who work day after day to just meet their simple means, yet still have a smile on their face as they sit around my too small table, sipping coffee and watching their children raid my pantry, looking for the cookies and candies I have hidden in the shelves. For most women, the laundry, dishes, cooking, and household chores take up their entire day. Much less earning income and providing for their hilariously bright and active children. Kids often go to bed hungry. Dads do what they can to provide if they are around at all.
Sometimes I get overwhelmed. I feel like everyone I meet needs a job, help with their homework, and some extra food to fill their bellies. Sometimes I just want to say no more, I can't help, I am just a girl. It is when those thoughts hit the recesses of my mind that I am immediately reminded of my strong, powerful and compassionate Savior, who has put me here, in this country, town, and apartment to further His Kingdom. And thankfully, that requires very little of me and a whole lot of Him.
I can no longer see Guatemala as just a destination. Instead, I can only view this beautiful place as a little piece to God's big picture. I wasn't put here to sit and stare at my treasure. The dream isn't just a destination, it is just a piece in the beautiful process to fulfill the words, "On earth as it is in heaven." For that is the ultimate prize, the infinite destination.

Faithful

I feel like I could write for days about the ways God has been working in my heart in the last few months.  I have written this blog over and over again, but no words I write on a page will accurately depict the changes, the lessons, and the second chances I have experienced recently.

God has been working in my life in ways that I have always longed for, but never imagined could actually happen to me. In Hebrews 6 it says that hope is an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. For the first time in quite awhile I feel that I am filled with hope. The hope that God is going to use me. The hope that my ministry will change lives. The hope that I am walking toward what God most wants for me.

One of the things I both love and hate about the God I serve is the fact that he insists on using people's weaknesses to show that He is strong. God sometimes gives us tasks that he knows we cannot complete on our own. He asks us to do things that will never be done without complete and total reliance on him.   It is completely against my human nature to work with my weaknesses. I like people to think I am strong, that I have it figured out, that I know exactly what I am doing and am confident that I am doing it right. Thankfully, that is not my reality. I am weak and feeble, leaning on a God that carries the world in his hands. And there is something so encouraging and powerful to know that He chose me despite my weaknesses (maybe even because of them).

Though I appear to be independent and at times rebellious of societal pressures, I am insecure and straight up fearful when it comes to doing things on my own. I don't like being put in a place where I could "fail" (whatever that means). But with each day and each little stumble, I am learning what it truly means to rejoice in my weaknesses. I am learning to accept that the cracks and imperfections that cover the surface of my life are what make me so valuable to God. It is because of these faults and this brokenness, that it is unmistakingly clear that anything I do is not from my own power, but something much greater.

When I returned to Guatemala a month ago, I had absolutely no idea what God wanted from me. I was discouraged, beaten down, and full of shame. I had spent two months in the States, and frankly it wasn't the least bit relaxing. I was feeling pressure from every angle. The devil put lies in my head telling me that I should just give up my dream and do the "normal thing". I was downtrodden, broken, and bruised, but despite my illness, my brokenness, and the lapse in joy, one thing was certain: I had to return to Guatemala.

I didn't know what I would encounter when returning to the place I now lovingly call home. I was open to anything and everything, praying that God would guide every step. Trusting that He would lead me, just as he once led Abraham in the "Walk until I tell you to stop" manner.  The first few steps were the hardest, but as I started walking tentatively and prayerfully, one small step after another, I came to realize that trusting the Lord was the only thing that would bring me to my destination.

In my mind I had it all planned out. My back up plans were prepared and I'm sure God just chuckled knowingly as I clumsily strategized how, when, and where He was going to lead me. A week after I arrived in Guatemala, I picked up my parents from the airport to take them to the Intermissions Conference (a weekend conference where missionaries from all over Guatemala gather for fellowship and worship).  Throughout the weekend, my dad would be counseling the missionaries and teaching workshops, I would be relaxing (and in my mind making all kinds of promising connections) and my mom would be hanging out, loving me, and helping me step out of my box and network. The conference was completely encouraging and uplifting, but I left feeling a little discouraged because I still had no promising leads as to where to even begin looking for work. I prayed and prayed that God would just make it clear to me. That I would be overwhelmed with clarity.

The night after the conference I found myself laying in bed thinking about a question my dad had asked in a class about a month before: "If Jesus was here on Earth for one day where would He be, who would He be with, and what would He be doing?" The answer to this question differs quite completely from person to person, because God has given us all passion and compassion for different things, thus there is no right answer (which I hate). I thought about this question for weeks. The fact that I could not come up with an answer bothered me more than you can imagine. If Jesus were on the Earth for just a day would he go to Africa? The US? Asia? Would he feed the hungry? Would he be preaching? Would he focus on a small group? A large group? Would he do miracles?  Finally, I came up with the answer I think I have feared for years: He would love the broken, renew the hearts of the discouraged, and nurse back to health the shattered hearts.

My dad founded a Christian counseling ministry called Plumbline when I was an infant, thus his ministry has been a part of my life since I was a child. Most MK's run as far away from the ministry life as they can, but I've never been one to follow the stereotypes. In my short 19 years, I have seen hearts renewed, lives changed, people healed, and souls saved, but it was never without hard work and hours spent in counseling sessions. I think as Christians we like to believe that once we have Jesus in our lives, the past goes away, and the hurts just don't hurt so bad. Sadly, it's just not true. There has to be healing.

Since living in Guatemala I have seen time and time again spiritual band-aids put on deep wounds. It doesn't do much to really heal the wound as much as just cover it up. I want to change that. I feel that God has put the burden on my heart to follow the passion that has been branded into my mind since childhood: bringing healing to a broken soul through counseling.

With this newfound clarity came a lot of confusion. I found myself feeling overwhelmed without even leaving my bedroom or putting on shoes. The vision of a counseling center is the goal. It is the dream that may take a lifetime to build, but the question remained: What is step one?

I prayed for a whole ten minutes before receiving a text message from a missionary that I had met the first night of the conference and talked with for about 5 minutes the entire weekend. I, being the doubtful crazy person I am, ignored it and kept on praying. I went through my day, buying groceries, visiting a friend, delivering my laundry to the service, and my thoughts kept coming back to that text message that sat idly in my inbox. I planned to call her in the afternoon. Before lunchtime, my phone rang and I was thrilled to see that the same person that had messaged me was now calling me. "Persistent. I like persistent," I thought as I managed to drive my standard down the cobblestone streets and answer my phone, holding it with my ear and shoulder as I switched gears. We chatted for a few minutes about language school and living in Antigua. I smiled as I drove wondering just what God was going to do. I was delighted when she invited me to her home to chat and help me find connections in the missionary community. Little did I know, the conversation we had in front of her house that same afternoon and the agreement that I would help her with her kids the following days would quickly turn into a ministry partnership. I think God smiled as he said, "Andrea, stop. This is it, look around, this is what I have given you".

To say that God has been faithful is the understatement of the century. He has blessed me more than I could ever deserve. He has loved and comforted me more than I can even fathom. He has taken me from the pit of my despair, and set me on firm ground once again, and I feel overwhelmed with the peace of His wonderful presence.

I am still trying to figure out the logistics of how God will use me. I have no clue where he will lead, or what my ministry will grow into as the years progress, but never have I been more confident in the Lords ability to lead me.

Romans 5:3-5
Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

Zephaniah 3:17
The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save; He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.