Many people shy away from the number 13.  It’s unlucky.  Some people are even afraid of it.

But there are times when the number 13 just shines.  Take a baker’s dozen, for instance.  Getting an extra donut in your box isn’t such a bad thing, is it?

And on this day, the number 13 sparkled for another reason.  Today we celebrated the 13th recipient of the “David L. Edwards Servant-Leader Award for Faculty Excellence in Spirit and Service.”  This year’s honoree was Dr. Kenneth Hanna, president of the Houston Extension campus.

Most of the time, we know the honoree.  But with Dr. Hanna being in Houston, we had never had the opportunity to meet him or his wife, so it was a special privilege to be able to spend time with them after chapel and at the celebratory lunch at Maggiano’s.  Because of Matt’s unemployment he was also able to join us, which made this day extra-special for me.

The chapel speaker was Dr. Don Campbell, former DTS president and professor.  Though he is quite elderly and struggles with the debilitating effects of Parkinson’s disease, his mind and wit are as sharp as ever.  He brought a powerful message from 1 Corinthians about keeping the correct perspective as we endure this challenge called “life.”  It is such an honor to sit in these chapel services, hearing God speak through these faithful men who have devoted their lives to training future pastors, missionaries, and Christian leaders.

Following chapel, we took our requisite pictures with the plaque.

Dr. Hanna with his lovely wife, Mary

Dr. Grassmick, who presents the award each year, tries very hard to keep the recipient a surprise until the moment the name is announced in chapel.  It’s always a challenge to get the recipient’s wife and/or family members into the chapel and keep them somewhat “hidden” until that moment.  We saw Dr. Hanna enter with his wife and proceed to sit onstage.  Come to find out, all it took was Dr. Grassmick saying, “We’d like to have you and your wife at chapel next Wednesday.”  and Dr. Hanna said, “Okay.”  And that was that.

Dr. & Mrs. Hanna in front of the plaque that hangs in the Academic Dean’s office,

just across from where Dad’s office used to be.

Last year, we used the last available space on the plaque.  So this year, we were treated to a surprise ourselves…a new plaque, with 12 new spaces!  We look forward to honoring more good and faithful servants in the years to come.

DATELINE:  Village of Hope, near Biyali, Uganda.  7:09 P.M. Village time.  That’s 11:09 A.M. CST for those of you keeping score at home.

THE MISSION BEGINS!

This was our first full day at the Village. We enjoyed a breakfast of french toast - which may simply be fried sweet bread - but it was REALLY good!  After breakfast, we spent some time in prayer, specifically for the Village of Hope.  There was an outside chance that an important decision could be made today, and we felt a great need to pray on behalf of those involved in the decision-making process, and for the outcome to be favorable.

There had been an issue with getting the examinations printed for the children, so Careenna and Connor spent some time in the “office” typing up the mathematics exams for the children to take tomorrow.  While they worked on that, several others of us went down to the school office to organize the supplies we had brought, as well as the clothes and ESL and craft materials.

It took much longer for Connor and Careenna to finish the exam, but once they were done we were able to have our team devotionals.  Dave had asked me if I’d be willing to share devotions today and of course, I was happy to oblige. Read the rest of this entry »

DATELINE:  Gulu, Uganda.  10:15 P.M. Gulu time.  That’s 2:15 P.M. for those of you keeping score at home.

WORSHIP

What a day!  What an amazing, incredible, glorious day!  A day filled with the joy of the Lord and His incredible presence here with us! Read the rest of this entry »

DATELINE:  Gulu, Uganda.  9:39 P.M. Gulu time.  That’s 1:39 P.M. CST for those of you keeping score at home.

LET THE LITTLE CHILDREN COME

What a day!  What an amazing, incredible, beautiful, heartbreaking day! Read the rest of this entry »

Note:  These blog entries are taken directly from my journaling over the past two weeks.  I have backdated them to reflect the actual dates and times of my writing.  And I promise to do a better job of blogging this trip than the one I took in November.  Who knows, I might even write about the entire trip this time!?!

DATELINE: August 4, 2010.  6:04 P.M. CST.  That’s 2:04 A.M. Gulu time for those of you keeping score at home.

Today, I return to Africa.  Technically, I’ll only make it halfway - to Amsterdam - today.  I’ll make it to Africa tomorrow.  Even in terms of Dallas time.

Regardless, I’m going back!  What an honor, a privilege this is! Read the rest of this entry »

This week was VBS at McKinney Fellowship.  Our theme for the week - in case you hadn’t already guessed - was Cokesbury’s Galactic Blast, a week of learning about the universe, the cosmos, and the God who created and rules over all of it.

As you might suspect, I was privileged to be on the worship team for the evening VBS for the elementary school-age children.  Although I technically wasn’t “in charge”, I was able to lead each evening’s worship set at the opening and closing ceremonies and helped teach the songs during the rotations.  We had approximately 800 children throughout the week, excited to learn and be a part of each day’s activities.

Quite honestly, this year’s music didn’t really speak to me.  I just wasn’t “feeling it.”  As much as I enjoy being onstage, I just didn’t connect with the songs we were teaching this year.  Frankly there were times I put on a happy face and forced myself to be enthusiastic and energetic, all the while praying continuously that God would speak to the children in spite of me.

As He always does, God honored that prayer.

During one evening’s worship rotation, I felt a strong leading to share the gospel as I was teaching the words and motions to one of our songs.  Even though it wasn’t the “official” night to have a gospel presentation, I knew God was asking me to do it.  As I spoke, particularly to one group of older children, I could feel the Holy Spirit burning passionately inside me.  The words spilled out uncontrollably - I can’t even remember what I said - but I know I said more than I intended.  I was actually a little embarrassed that I had gotten so carried away with “preaching” when we were supposed to be worshiping.

After that rotation, our children’s pastor came up to me with an odd look on his face, one that I couldn’t quite place.  I was afraid I’d said too much, said the wrong thing, that someone had complained about something I’d said or done…and in a low voice he looked at me and said, “Don’t say anything when I tell you this.”  Instantly I turned off my microphone, certain I was going to get a mild chastising.  “That girl in the back row behind me…she’s NOT a Christian.  She’s unchurched.  You just gave a totally clear presentation of the gospel…and she was here for every word.  I don’t know how God is going to use that, but I just wanted you to know.”  As he spoke, a huge smile spread over his face and his eyes brightened.  “Keep it up.”  And he turned and walked away.

I sat there, humbled.  To think that God would use me - despite all my inner complaining - to share His message of love and forgiveness and sow the seed that will hopefully one day reap a great harvest was an amazing thought.  And as I watched the children on our final night give themselves over with complete abandon to joyous, exuberant worship, I realized that it *is* really all about Him.

HE is the true Galactic Blast.  He just lets me tune the spaceship’s radio every once in awhile.

If you’re interested, a video montage of VBS is available here.

Sometimes, I’m such a twit.  I can’t tell you how glad I am that God, in His infinite patience and endless love and mercy, never actually says that to me.  But I’m sure there are times He must feel like it.

This epiphany came to me this weekend after spending several days trying to climb out of the deep dark emotional funk I’ve been in.  The circumstances of the past couple of weeks, coupled with a never-ending list of stuff I gotta do, have worn me down.  Physically, I’m tired.  Mentally, I’m frazzled.  And spiritually, I’m empty.  The sum of all these parts is depression.  Darkness.  Despair.  And as much as I hate being in that place, I’ve been unable to find my way out.

Until this morning.

As the sun pierced through the windows in my studio, it was like God opened a ray of light into my soul and spoke directly to my heart.  I was re-reading our passage of study for our Uganda trip meeting when suddenly He had me park here for awhile:

I am not praying that You take them out of the world but that You protect them from the evil one.  John 17:15

As I meditated on this, He gently moved my eyes back a few verses to read this:

I have told you these things so that in Me you may have peace. You will have suffering in this world. Be courageous! I have conquered the world.  John 16:33

And then He sent me here:

Consider it a great joy, my brothers, whenever you experience various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.  James 1:2-3

You’re probably more of a quick study than me.  By now, you’ve probably noticed a theme, a trend, an obvious connection.  Eventually, I did too.  But what struck me is that these verses contain a promise, too.  Maybe not a happy, all-warm-and-fuzzy, let’s-get-together-and-sing-Kum-ba-Yah kind of promise, but a promise nonetheless.  These verses promise us that as believers - heck, as human beings - we will experience trials.  There’s no escaping them.  We might as well accept that fact and be prepared, because it’s gonna happen.  Cancer.  Job loss.  Accidents.  Political strife.  Some trials are more difficult than others, but there is no escaping that promise.  Trials will happen.  Life is hard.

Oddly enough, as God reminded me of this promise, I began to feel energized.  Renewed.  Fearless.  And - ironically - hopeful.  Crazy as it seems, this reminder that hardship is inescapable, that trials are promised, that life is difficult brought me a sense of calm and restored optimism.  Because there is more to the story.  Like all optimists, I search for the silver lining.  And there’s a big one.

Our trials have a happy ending.  It’s guaranteed.  I don’t know exactly what that happy ending is, because it’s different for everyone and unique to each situation.  We are protected from the evil one.  Christ has overcome the world.  We have the strength to endure - which means an end is in sight.  We will get through it.  We will succeed.  We will have joy once again.  Just read those verses again and I’m sure you’ll see it.

Is it any wonder, then, that this song spoke so deeply to me this morning as I had the privilege of singing it at church with my favorite trio?

You know, there are some verses in the Bible that frighten me.

It’s not the ones about the wrath of God, or His mighty arm of justice, or the consequences of sin.  I can live with all those.

No, it’s ones like this:

And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”  2 Corinthians 12:9

Or this one:

My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience.  James 1:2-3

And especially this one:

Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.  John 15:2

Frankly, verses like that make my stomach a little fluttery.  If I really allow those words to penetrate my heart and sink into my mind, I find myself getting a little weak in the knees.  Honestly - dare I say it? - these passages scare the hell out of me. (pun intended)

I know it sounds crazy.  I know you must think I’m playing a few cards short of a full deck here…I’m a few ants short of a picnic…the lights are on but no one’s home.  Whatever. Throw out any cliche’ you want.  “Why?” you ask.  Why would passages like that strike fear in my heart?

Because those verses represent the moment I surrender all control and open myself to whatever - and I mean WHAT.EV.ER - God wants to do with me.  Suddenly my life becomes not so much about me and what I want and what I think is best for me and the choices I want to make, but rather what God wants to do with me, what He thinks is best for me, and the choices He wants me to make.  And sometimes, that process is painful.  It means I allow God to do what is necessary to shape me and mold me into His image.  It means that the road may get bumpy.  It means He may choose to test my faith.  It means He may allow me to undergo some fiery trials to refine and purify my heart, my thoughts, my actions.

And that’s not often a pleasant process.

So, today was one of those days.  I admit, I was a little fearful when Matt went to his oncologist appointment.  Certainly, I’m always a little nervous.  That’s natural.  Though the risk of relapse is small, there’s always that chance that his cancer could come back.  It could come back and not be as treatable, as easily cured as it was the first time.  It could metastasize and show up differently and be a different kind of cancer…the list goes on and on.  Most of the time I can keep it in check just knowing how God healed Matt.  But this time things were a little different.  With Matt being laid off, I know we’re in a time of testing.  We’re in the refiner’s fire.  And I was afraid that at this appointment something just might “show up”…to further our testing, to put not just our feet to the fire, but our whole bodies.

That’s what made the good news of Matt’s appointment today so extra-special.  No worries.  No concerns about how to handle a major illness without health insurance or benefits.  No fear over how we’re going to pay for testing and treatment without a steady paycheck.  No stress about doctor’s appointments and hospital stays while in the midst of job interviews.

Maybe I need to focus a little more on some other verses.  You know, like this one:

And my God will supply all your needs, according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.  Philippians 4:19

That one doesn’t seem frightening at all.

Deep conversations can happen when you least expect them.  Oh sure, you’re prepared for them around the dinner table, or before bedtime, when things are quiet and the mind has a chance to unwind and relax a bit.  For my kids, however, it’s always those short bits of time when we’re in the car, hustling from one location to another that they choose to explore the mysteries of life, the intricacies of faith, and test the limits of my understanding on all matters scientific and mathematical - like multiplication or 3-digit addition.

Today’s topic revolved around Matt’s job.  Listening to their musings, fielding their questions, I was struck with how deeply this layoff is affecting them.  As they shared with me their fears - fears of losing our house, of having to move, of not being able to pay for clothes or food, and yes, even of living on the street - I realized that this “life storm” is not just being felt by Matt and me.  It’s affecting our whole family.  And God will use this experience to deepen not only Matt’s and my faith, but also our children’s.

They are learning to pray persistently and specifically.

They are learning to ask boldly for God’s blessing as we obey through tough times.

They are learning to trust for God’s provision in the face of dwindling resources.

They are learning to be grateful for what we have, and not take “things” for granted.

They are learning the hard lessons of patience and perseverance and humility.

They are learning to be totally dependent on God alone when we are helpless to solve the problem.

As a parent, it’s incredibly difficult to watch your children suffer.  It’s natural to want to protect them against the hardships of life and the cruelty of the world.  It’s our desire to only give them good things, and to try our best to keep them from failing or falling.  But it’s through those experiences that we learn the most: about ourselves, about the strength and bonds of family and friends, about God.

May I, like them, open my eyes to the wonder of child-like faith.  May God teach me through their obedience, and may I come to see my Abba Father in fresh new ways as we weather this storm together.

In my last post, I was “abiding.”  That was before the past four days.  I know Mom said there’d be days like this, but we’re more than halfway to a full week…and counting.

I almost don’t even know where to begin.  This has been a week of daily tragedies.  Something new every day that rocks my world, shakes me to the core, and tests the limits of my faith.  Something new every day that causes me to cling to the feet of the one on the throne, to grab the very soles of His feet and hang on for dear life, to trust that somehow, some way He knows what He is doing and has all of this chaos under control.  Something that makes me lift my tear-filled eyes to meet His, searching, seeking for assurance and answers.  Something that makes me realize how incapable I am of handling life on my own.  Something that makes me know how desperately and completely I need Him.

So, in a nutshell, here is the week-at-a-glance…and bear in mind, it’s only Wednesday.

Sunday

We received word that the organization we will be working with in Uganda - an organization that is dedicated to rebuilding the lives of orphans devastated by years of war and civil unrest, an organization whose very name infuses HOPE into the lives of the hopeless, an organization of peace and love and healing in Jesus’ name - was the victim of serious (and false) legal and political accusations.  In order to protect those involved, I will not share the nature of these accusations, but be assured they were serious enough to shut down the whole operation and destroy all that God has spent the last three years building up.

Monday

I awoke to the horrific news of the bombing in Kampala.  Our church had just sent a team there to do church planting/revival and medical clinics.  In fact, Sunday’s worship service was a celebration of their trip and reports from the various team members who participated.  One of the local nurses who worked with our group lost her 26-year-old daughter in the bombing.  And most of you have probably heard of the tragic death of Nick Henn, who worked with Invisible Children rescuing Acholi orphans from devastating circumstances.  Though I don’t have a direct connection to Nick or Invisible Children, the organization I will be traveling to Uganda with (and yes, we will be traveling through Kampala on our way home) also supports Acholi orphans.  We are definitely on the same team, and for that, I feel a special kinship with Nick Henn.

Tuesday

We received a call from some dear friends whose lives have become intricately layered with ours over the past couple of years informing us that the husband had been seriously injured in a motorcycle accident that evening on his way home from work.  Though his injuries do not appear at this point to be life-threatening, they are multiple and serious, and will require a rather long rehabilitation.  To make matters worse, it was the day of their 14th wedding anniversary.

Wednesday

And then came today and an unforgettable “good news/bad news” phone call.  We had planned to take advantage of a discount ticket opportunity to visit Hawaiian Falls for the day.  Matt had gone in to work and would plan to meet us around 2:30.  The kids and I would arrive closer to lunch time and enjoy a picnic-style lunch before splashing our way through the afternoon.  About 11:30, as I was on my way to the park, Matt informed me that the good news was he was leaving then to meet us, since he had the rest of the day off.  The bad news…you guessed it.  He also has tomorrow off.  And Friday.  And next Monday.  And so on.  And so on.  A baker’s dozen of employees were let go today and he was one of the “unlucky 13.”  And while we are optimistic and have faith that ultimately God will provide - a new job, finances in the meantime, and full funding for my trip to Uganda now that we have no “fallback” option - that doesn’t mean that the process is easy.  It’s discouraging.  It’s disheartening.  It’s depressing.  It’s stressful.  And only God knows what the future has in store - for us, for Matt, for our home and ministry and family.

At this point, I might be tempted not to wake up tomorrow.  To fear what lies ahead and what tragedy awaits in the next 24 hours.  But thankfully I know the One who holds tomorrow:

• He’s the Judge, who will deliver justice to those who oppose His plans.
• He’s the Conqueror, who will destroy His enemies and reign victorious.
• He’s the Great Physician, who heals our wounds, and restores us to life abundant.
• He’s the Provider, who ensures our needs are met above and beyond anything we could ask or imagine.

He is.  He was.  He ever will be.  And I will choose to cling to Him.