four-minute friday: hope house

Go. I'm cheating. It's after midnight, so technically it's Saturday already.

We took our new interns to Hope House for the first time today. I was flooded with a strange mix of emotions. I was glad to be there. Utterly elated to hold and hug my James. The buzz of excitement that overflowed from the interns was almost tangible.

Yet at the same time, I felt a hole in my heart, in the room, in the children's eyes -- a hole the size of last year's interns.

I watched the children wander hesitantly, tentatively into the room, beholding a whole new group of people. They were reserved. Shy. Withdrawn. Unsure. Confused. And then that wall slowly tumbled down. By the end, the kids were hanging all over the interns. Their hearts opened wide to let in these strangers who will very soon become friends. Loved ones.

I would be wise to let my heart do the same.

Done.

the truth you know

"Let us live up to what we have already attained." What I hear in that statement is act on the truth you know.

I may not feel ready to do the next-right-thing that's in front of me. I may feel as though I lack the knowledge, skills, or sheer courage to put one foot in front of the other. I may not know the fullness of what to do to fix any given situation. But I typically know enough to start. I can act on the truth I know. I just usually don't.

It's easier to wait for God to lay it all out. Because then my paralysis is His fault, not mine.

When I feel overwhelmed by a situation or an aspect of myself I need to work on, the enormity of it all makes me shrug. "I just don't know where to start." Because I don't know how to do it all, I do nothing.

And I call it "waiting on God". Meanwhile, He's waiting on me.

Why should I expect God to show me the whole plan when I'm not being obedient to the small thing He's already shown me? Why should I expect Him to keep speaking when I haven't acted on what He's already said?

As small and inconsequential as it may be, I need to do the bit I know to do. Take that first step. And trust that His light will shine at the exact moment I need to know what to do next.

I love the encouragement and challenge that's wrapped in the charge to "press on," a mere two verses earlier. I've never read on, though, and continued the thought. It's as though the next part is telling me how to press on. By living up to what I've already attained.

Press on. By acting on the truth you know.

lessons from virgin oil

You're probably familiar with the story. Jesus told it. Ten virgins were waiting for the groom to arrive; five were wise enough to have oil in their lamps, five were foolish enough not to.

All ten showed up seemingly ready. From the outside, they all looked prepared. Only someone who knew what was going on inside those lamps would've known they weren't ready, would've known they were actually empty inside. There's always more going on than you can actually see. You need to look closer, dig a little, peek inside.

The foolish women tried to borrow oil from those that had some, but they couldn't. What someone else has will never be sufficient for me. I can't live off my husband's. My ministry's. My yesterday's. I need my own for today. And I need to get it myself.

How often do I show up with nothing to give? And what am I gonna do about it?

four-minute friday: jeans

Go. I'm a finicky clothing shopper.

I prefer to do it alone. My basic standards for any article of clothing are comfort and compatibility. It needs to be oh-so-comfortable, and it needs to match just about everything else I already own. I'm a weird height and often "between sizes", which makes it a challenge for me to find something I really like that fits perfectly. Even if I end up with armfuls of stuff, I usually discard most of it along the way to the checkout. (Niel gets so annoyed when I do this!)

I am in desperate need of jeans. I have two pairs that I wear fairly constantly, and these two pairs have been with me for most of my decade in Africa. I'm serious. (They're a great advertisement for the durability of Gap jeans.)

They are comfortable and comforting, in the way only a favorite-pair-of-jeans can be. They are worn in, and now worn through in certain spots. Namely, the butt and the crotch. What's up with that? The stitching around the zipper and button has just begun to unravel on one pair, so basically the crotch is falling apart entirely. Yikes.

My beloved Joyce has patched them multiple times, the most recent being yet another patch on the butt last week. She told me I just need to get new pants.

My mission is to buy a few pairs of jeans when I go home in a few months, so I told Joyce we just need to get these to last till April. I tried to buy some last time I went home, and failed miserably.

I have to, have to, have to this time.

Done.

four-minute friday: 10 years old

Go.

Now the challenge is to get this typed in and posted before the power goes out again. I think we've spent more time without power than with it today.

2008 is a pretty monumental year for us. Thrive Africa turned 10 years old! We've been working on a new page for the website that tells more about our journey. It was fun writing the copy for it, although it was challenging to not go on and on about things. (I've got a decade worth of stories to tell... It's hard to fit that onto one page!)

We even dug out some old pictures from our early years and scanned them in (yes, we used film back then!). There's a whole gallery of these classic photos on the ministry site. (Kitty, enjoy the trip down memory lane!)

You can read our story and see our pictures here.

(Yay! Power's still on...)

Done.