Then Comes the Rest

I believe in hard work. As a girl who grew up in the United States, learning what it takes to achieve the “American Dream,” that is not unique to me. Doesn’t it seem like if you’re not busy, you’re not working hard enough?

But let me tell you, busyness in the life of a missionary does not mean we are accomplishing more by not having time to breathe. It is a fight to not give in to burn-out. It is a challenge to live in the tension of wanting to work as hard as we can, while at the same time having to disconnect and let people accustom to our absence.

My worth is not measured by what I do, how much I do, and what I accomplish. My worth is discovered in what Jesus Christ has already done for me.

For that reason, I can rest.

I can breathe.

Because I am not working to prove my love for him; I am working just because he loved me first.

And he gave me the privilege of entering in to his rest.

Hebrews 4:9-11 says, “There remains, then, a Sabbath rest for the people of God; for anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from his own work, just as God did from his. Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest so that no one will fall by following their example of disobedience.”

For people who find themselves in vocational ministry, it is always tricky to know when to rest. After all, we have to work on Sundays.  But there is a Sabbath rest for us. However, we must “make every effort” to enter into it. “Wait a second, we have to work hard in order to rest? That seems a little wrong.”

It is WORK to let go. It is WORK to surrender. But we encounter rest when we do. That’s the promise.

Right now, we have begun the process of handing over the ministry in Cusco to our leaders who will be staying, namely our pastor. I want to tell you, THIS IS NOT EASY. But I have experienced the peace that comes with surrender. I do not know what is going to happen when I leave Cusco. But it is out of my hands, it is in God’s hands, and I have peace about that.

So I will rest. I will not sleep more, but I will find shelter in him. I will not work less, but I will make every effort to enter into His rest.

And I will let go. He will carry my burdens. I will take on his yoke.

And then comes the rest. 

Surreal

This is a very strange time.

Less than five weeks remain as a 40/40 in Cusco.

And while part of me wants to jump up and down shouting, "WOO HOO" at the reading of that sentence, the rest of me is filled with sadness.

It is very surreal to want to give my absolute best these last few weeks of work, but at the same time need to disconnect from people, and say goodbye.

Surreal.

This past weekend, the Cusco team went to Arequipa for a time of debriefing and saying goodbye. It is slightly different for me, since I am not actually re-entering my home culture, and I am not leaving Peru and will be spending more time in Arequipa.

But I think it was a valuable time for us.

And it was great to see our friends.

So pray for us these last few weeks. Last day in Cusco is April 27th.

There's A Party in Heaven

Seven weeks and counting. Then I am done being a 40/40 in Cusco. Even writing that sentence feels surreal, because these two years have quickly passed us by, and wrapping things up includes bittersweet feelings as we think about saying goodbye to the disciples we have made, and leaving all of our hard work in the hands of our local pastor.

Work has had its ups and downs, times of extreme victory and times of mundane routine. It becomes less about the big events and more about the small moments and slow transformation happening in people’s lives.

What I will carry home as a highlight happened in the life of Jovana on Saturday, March 10, 2012. As I begin to tell this story, I am not even sure that words can convey how special it was. But I will try.

Jovana is from Lamay. If I recall correctly, I met her in my first few months of working there, but we began studying the Bible with her in her home in August of last year. The first thing Jovana told us when we met her was that she was Catholic, and her family was Catholic. But she showed great interest in learning with us.

Teaching Jovana was different than teaching most other people, women with no education who have never learned to read or write. Jovana is very bright, very intelligent. She could teach herself anything, and when she read a passage of the Bible ONCE, she would explain to us exactly what it meant. That NEVER happens. I mean EVER.

But she hadn’t really made a commitment yet. The roots of her tradition, her religion, and her family’s customs bound her tightly in a not only dead, but pagan version of Catholicism.

On Saturday we were visiting her with our pastor. Heading to her house, I knew it would be a make-or-break meeting. After all this time, I knew things couldn’t continue as they were, with her dipping her toes into the pool of faith but refusing to dive in. There were only two possible outcomes: we would either leave there and not return because she would no longer want us to teach the Bible to her, or she would go all in, giving up dead religion in exchange for a live Savior who wants to be her friend. We had reached a breaking point.

Once we got to talking, Jovana expressed her fear that if she “changed religions,” God would be upset with her. After all, her family is Catholic, and she has always been Catholic. Pastor Arnaldo showed her through the Word that religion does not bring us closer to God, and that this kind of religion is actually upsetting to God. At the beginning, her face was full of doubt, but it changed—it softened. She had her questions answered and realized for herself what I already new—that she could not continue as she was. She was doing the Christian hokey-pokey and had to finally “put [her] whole self in.”

And she did. I felt the Holy Spirit in that room. I saw her break open and give herself to the Lord. I was overjoyed and couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

Jovana came to church that night for the first time. She wanted to give her tithe that night. She wants to share with her family what Christ has done in her life, and it is a beautiful thing.

This type of change is not as common as we wish it would be. It is hard to get to this place. But oh so worth it.

Content

I think it is easy to wonder, will life ever get easier? But maybe it doesn't get easier. Maybe we just learn to be content. And contentment comes from finding joy in the little things. Gratitude is the secret to joy. I've said it before; I just don't have it down yet.

But today, I want to share a few things I am grateful for.

On Saturday morning, our contact and friend, Pascuala in Coya, prayed to close our discipleship class. It brings true joy to my heart to hear our contacts pray. Seriously, one of my favorite things. Six months ago, this woman didn't own a Bible. She didn't know anything about Jesus Christ. She had never experienced the love of God. Now, she is a transformed woman. She has quit drinking. She is much more patient. Her daughters have seen a change in her attitude. She is now a child of God.

And she prayed. It wasn't eloquent. It wasn't impressive. But it was beautiful. I fancy it a sweet, sweet sound in God's ears.

Then we have Genara en Lamay. She is trying to change. She already seems so sweet. But she told us, "You know, you guys aren't around all the time." It is easy to follow God's word when the missionaries are around. But when they are not, she says, it is pretty easy to fight with her husband. I am so thankful for her honesty. She confided in us her struggles, and it is obvious how much she still wants to grow.

There are women in these towns truly seeking God.

And it is a lovely thing to see, and to be a part of.

It brings joy to my heart.

Adulterous Heart

Take me captive, all the way through
Not just a piece, not just a part
What now seeks gold, may it just seek you
It is restless, this adulterous heart
Desperate for worth, but wrongly searching
Finding pleasure in things that just leave it empty
Never tied down, always looking and running
Chasing after every vain fancy

So tie me down, hold me captive
Like a prisoner of love I will just stay
Contented with you is the only way to live
Giving my heart, no longer to go astray
In you is my worth, and all that I want
Nevermore will I lift my soul to another
To love you most is the first commandment
"You must love the LORD, and there is no other."

REST

When all words have been used
When all music dies out
When the sun fades
And the moon and stars disappear
I will rest in you.

When my muscles have no more strength
When my voice is gone
When my heart caves in
And my mind is out of answers
I will rest in you.

I don't need anything found in this world
Possessions leave me more greedy
Time is not money, people worth more than cash
The hurt we feel doesn't go away quickly
So I will rest in you.

This body is like a rental car
I am not eternal; I fade like the wind
My limitations only leave me restless
And until I dance with you in glory
I will rest in you.

I Want Joy

I actually posted this quote to this blog last year, but as I think about how I want to live my life this year, it returns to mind:


You cannot be too gentle, too kind. Shun even to appear harsh in your treatment of each other. Joy, radiant joy, streams from the face of him who gives and kindles joy in the heart of him who receives. All condemnation is from the devil. Never condemn each other. We condemn others only because we shun knowing ourselves. When we gaze at our own failings, we see such a swamp that nothing in another can equal it. That is why we turn away, and make much of the faults of others. Instead of condemning others, strive to reach inner peace. Keep silent, refrain from judgment. This will raise you above the deadly arrows of slander, insult and outrage and will shield your glowing hearts against all evil.
-St. Seraphim of Sarov-


This year, I want joy.


Radiant joy.


I believe joy actually begins with gratitude.


So every day, I want to be thankful.


I want to focus everything on Christ, and him crucified. 


And the joy will come.


So here's to a new year.


New trials. New adventures. New difficulties. New joys.


But God is the same. 


And joy comes from him.


So, thanks, Lord.


          And so it begins...