Nica 2012

Time flies and it’s hard to believe it has been a year since I was last in Managua, Nicaragua.  There are many emotions as I have prepared, but in the midst of a very, very busy and stressful time here at work, there will be a little air to breathe as I get to chaperone a group of High School students on a mission trip to Nicaragua.  I have the most amazing job.

God always is up to something, and every time I’ve gone, He has surprised me with his strength (which I shouldn’t be!), peace, hope and joy in the faces of these children.

Pray for us.  We fly out March 21st, and return the 30th.  Check up on us through the week with our blog.

death

Death is such a funny thing, I mean, funny in a not so funny way.  I tend to stay far away from hospitals, breathing apparatuses… and just everything of that genre.

But the other day, I had to go to the hospital to visit my Aunt (actually my great Aunt, but we always just called her Aunt, like the regular kind), and have yet another encounter and be near death.  It’s been just over a year since my Grandma passed away, but the feeling is still all too real, even as I was missing her today.

Anyway, hospitals.  I don’t think I’ve been to the hospital to visit someone since my Grandpa died, in the summer of 2006, but walking in through those double doors, and down the hall to ICU only brought back memories of him, and of course my Grandma.

I tried not to think about it, but when my Mom called as I was working yesterday, I knew why she was calling.  I work at the church, so I had already heard the situation was critical, but still, I agreed to visit the hospital in my parents brief absence, even though she was sedated at the time.  I went about my work, then threw on my jacket, and decided just to walk over, since the hospital isn’t far from the church.  On the way, I really didn’t think about how it would feel, I didn’t want to.  But then again, maybe I just shouldn’t think about it, since it wasn’t really about ME at all.

I stayed for maybe an hour, visiting with her caregiver, and another relative (I honestly can’t even tell you how she’s related to us… we have so many interesting extended family connections, and just don’t really know them too well).

Her breathing and heart rate was irregular, but the only thing I could think about was my Grandpa, and remembering seeing him in a similar fashion, almost 6 years ago.

I wasn’t close with my Aunt, we never spent much time with her, you know, life is busy. My Dad knew her well and cared for her a lot over these past 8 or so years, when her health worsened.

Death is just so interesting, not funny, just so weird and intriguing.  I’m so uncomfortable being around it, because it just seems so wrong to sit in the same room where someone is dying and reminisce, laugh, tell stories about their lives, and be… so alive.

Someday I will die, and actually it will be a beautiful thing.  Seeing the face of God, seeing relatives that I’ve seen pass onto the other side.  It will be amazing.  But the scary, and more sobering thing to think about now is that so many around us don’t know Christ, and will not have heaven to look forward to.  They won’t experience a beautiful death, they don’t know what it’s like to have the peace of God.  This has been a topic of conversation with friends lately, and just realize the fragility of life.

Every breath is life, and a second chance to start again.  Just remember that, as you live and dance your way to death.

lessons learned

I’ve been in a jet-lag haze for the past week.  Yesterday morning was the first morning I woke feeling semi-normal.  But even that was waking up at 5:30 am.  I’m ready for normal, calm, peace.  Yeah right, that won’t be happening until… maybe July.

I hit the ground running Monday.  Ate lunch, unpacked, did laundry, worked out, then slept, sorta.  Meetings all week, extra rehearsals, more meetings, more planning.  It’s exhausting, but at the same time it’s good.  I’m glad to be here.

Many things were pressed into my heart while I was away, and when I returned, I returned with a desire and flame to be here, where I know God wants me.  There’s a lot I could say, but I don’t want to bore you all.  Let’s just say the ways I thought God was leading when I left, were just not really what I thought.  I like to plan, I like to dream, I love thinking about the future, but in the midst of all the planning, I forgot to remain in the present.  Even while I was on my trip, I really have a habit of not remaining in the here and now, and, well for now on, it’s a discipline for me.

Psalm 90 speaks a lot about who God is, and who we are in light of him.  But I love verse 12- teach us to realize the brevity of life that we may gain a heart of wisdom (sorry that may not be exact.. too tired to move right now and check).

Life is precious, never forget that.  Be you.  And be right where you are, right now.

moments

Where I collide
with the world
is not where my heart begins beating

Where time stills
and all is dark
is when I can rest my head and begin

Searching for peace
yet never finding it
yet by faith and by the light I step

The assurance of the dawn
the timeliness of the sunset
is where my heart beats and where my blood spills

The average
is never just average
it is precious it is a gift

The newness will fade
but Constance remains
in each day and each sunrise

Where my heart lies
and the world collides
is only the beginning of eternity

travel reflections: India

When I traveled and lived in India for 2 months after I graduated from college in 2007, there were many things about my experience there that will forever alter the way I view life.  I remember the long plane rides, and long lay overs in the various airports that threw a blanket of tiredness over our team, but did not extinguish my joy for being there, though the trip would be overshadowed by a darkness I never could quite put my finger on.

Car ride from Medford to Redding
Van trip from Redding to San Fransisco
Midnight flight from San Fransisco to Taipei
Flight from Taipei to Bangkok
Flight from Bangkok to Kolkata, India
Overnight sleeping in the Kolkata airport
Flight from Kolkata, India to Dimapur, India.

I believe it could have been a full 48 hours before we finally reached our place of arrival: Great Comission Kid’s Academy in outside of Dimapur, India, in Nagaland.  The only Christian state in India, and you’ve probably never heard of it.

Though we were all more tired than we ever had been in our lives, or probably ever will be, we were warmly greeted at the school by the most precious children I have ever met.  Each one was truly beautiful, and their smiles lighted up their faces.  I quickly became acquainted with my friends Abane, Jenny, and Zuve, and they showed us girls to our room.

It was hot, that was for sure.  The heat invades you from deep down, and it feels like you are constantly sweating, or have just gotten out of the shower.  We put our suitcases carefully alongside the wall, and organized ourselves. We would be there for 5 weeks, but at that point, we all just wanted to close our eyes and nap.  However, there was no rest for us, we were immediately introduced to all the children, and to the Dozo family, who run the school.  The kids were precious, and had prepared an entire program for us!  We felt welcomed, even though we were quite weary from our travels.

The Naga people are not Indian in their culture and practices.  There are many tribes of the Naga people, and they are decedents of southern China, as far as nationality is, and they look Asian and not Indian.  There was a long history of the Naga people being headhunters; they killed foreigners, and especially Christians for many, many years.  In the 1970’s the was a huge revival that swept through Nagaland, and many, many were saved, and they stopped headhunting.  The history is incredible, but the result of this revival was a culture becoming Christian.

Anyway, rambling.  My heart was touched by these children.  They had a heart for Jesus to know him and serve him, most wanted to be missionaries when they grew up!

The most difficult thing about India was not this first part of the trip.  Nagaland was like a home away from home, a family across the ocean, and I still correspond with them even today.  My heart broke time and time again, and became hard again and again while walking the streets of Kolkata.

We took an overnight bus to Shillong, a beautiful part of India, it was stunning.  Then, we flew from Guwahati to Kolkata.

As soon as walking outside the Kolkata airport, it is complete chaos, and you are hit by a million smells, and a wave of heat even greater than Nagaland.  Loud and noisy taxi drivers trying to rip off foreigners, and then potentially even kill you en route to your destination; driving as fast and as dangerously as possible.  Upon our arrival at the airport, we were supposed to be met by our other team, already in Kolkata, but after waiting several hours, we figured they were not coming.  We needed to find our way to either the guest house they were staying at, or just find some place to stay, as it was getting late.

I was angry at this point, our team was comprised of people who did not like to take charge, including our team leader, so naturally being the activator I am, I took charge.  “Let’s just find some place to stay, and we will find them in the morning.  It’s getting late, and it’s too dangerous for us to just be wandering the streets”.

Daniel and I (the more assertive of the group) told the team to wait with all our luggage, and we set out to find a guest house that was generally clean, and that had “air con” (which was the most important thing we were looking for in the pollution and humidity of downtown Kolkata).  We were so hungry, we hadn’t eaten since breakfast and it was well past 9 or 10 at night at that point.  I didn’t care anymore, I was just ready to find a place and go to sleep before I began to say anything I would regret to our team members.

As Daniel and I walked the streets we found many foreigners in this section.  I was shocked at how many of them were just sitting out on the streets, conversing with locals in Hindi, and many of them enjoying a cold beer.  I was fascinated; they looked as though they had made this place their home, at least for now, but didn’t they have families?  What were they doing all the way across the world?  As many of them appeared to be Americans, or Europeans.  I was so intrigued.

After stopping at quite a few guest houses, we finally found one at a decent price, “600 rupees a night, with air con”, the large Indian man said in broken English.  I looked at Daniel, “I don’t think we will find anything better, and these look pretty clean.”  He agreed, “Yes, it will have to do for tonight, I will find an internet cafe and let Cassie know where we are, hopefully they will find us in the morning”.  Daniel had been looking forward to seeing his girlfriend Cassie for quite some time, he and I had enjoyed some good conversation the past 5 weeks on the team, but he was certainly ready to see Cassie after so much time apart.  I smiled, “I’m not worried, we will find them in the morning”. It also was Daniels’ 21st birthday that day, oh, I knew he wanted to see Cassie, but for the night, I had arranged for one of our friends in Nagaland to buy him a little special 21-year-old beverage (shh don’t tell!).  At least he would have that tonight, I knew I wouldn’t be able to steal away and enjoy a sip with him, our leader was a little uptight about those things.

We returned to the rest of the team, and showed them our place.  When asked if I wanted anything to eat, I replied with a self-loathing response, “No, I’m not hungry.  I’m just going to bed”.

As soon as I shut my eyes, I drifted off into a hard sleep, and tried to not think about the hardness of the beds, or the fact that there could be little creatures in our sheets.

We spent three weeks in Kolkata, and to this day I still have many distinct memories from my time there.  It was really, really difficult, one of the most difficult times in my life, only unlike the children on the streets, or the dying man laying on the side of the road with a small cup begging for money, I had a beautiful home to return to, and lots of material belongings.  They had nothing.  The brokenness became hardness in my heart.  Every time I stepped out onto the streets, I had to ignore the children.  Ignore the beggar.  Ignore the stares and whispering.  I had to pretend I could not see or hear them.  India is a corrupt government, so even if we gave to these people, the money would likely go to a harsh owner of these people.  If you have seen the film Slumdog Millionaire, you know some of this.

We eventually found our other team, and stayed in a beautiful guest house with an amazing garden outside, away from the loud, busy streets of Kolkata.  A haven from the harsh world outside.

But to this day, I still see all their faces.  I still wonder if they are alive.  I still wonder: how do we bridge the gap between poverty and wealth?  How can I change the hearts of these people?  Only God can bring an answer to these questions, but we can be faithful to pray.  Pray that God will provide, as he does, and pray that these people can be reached with the hope of the gospel.  That is what matters.  That is what the goal is.

wrestling the angels

sometimes, we wrestle with angels
sometimes for a name
sometimes for more than a name

i wrestle for life
to feel my flesh and blood
and know it’s real

to fight for living
and breathing
and being human

give me a name
give me a task
tell me what you want me to do

the path is too dark
to meander to and fro
so just tell me what you want me to do

give me a name
call my heart from where it lies
rescue this drifting soul

God himself is with us
emmanuel
God has made his home among us

Among us wretched sinners
filthy and scarred
carrying our shame and sin

He has made his dwelling
yet we still wrestle with him
for a task and a name

Give me answers
Give me peace
Give me something i still can believe in

Give me joy
Give me life
Just give me You

Forgiven Much

There’s a lot more I could have said, and I wanted to say.   Worship flows out of understanding ourselves in relation to who God is, and realizing how he sees us: as forgiven.  And by the way, completely unrelated, Robbie Seay Band released a new CD, you should support them and buy it here, it’s amazing!

Here you go, if you haven’t read the eConnect already, or if you care to read:

Staff Corner
Meridith Johnson
, Worship Director

Forgiven Much

       As we have journeyed through Galatians, it seems the word “legalism” and “legalistic” has been used quite a number of times, but part of understanding our legalistic ways, also comes from understanding the depth of our sin and our depravity.  Part of this process involves naming sin for exactly what it is: brokenness and separation from the heart of God.
       In Luke 7, there is a familiar story of Jesus eating with the Pharisees, and during the meal, a “certain immoral woman” came with an expensive jar of perfume, and began to anoint and wash his feet.  Listen to this account of Luke, verse 38 says, “Then she knelt behind him at his feet, and she wiped them off with her hair.  Then she kept kissing his feet and putting perfume on them.”  The natural response of the Pharisees was something like this, “If he knew who this woman was, and the kinds of sin she has committed, how could he let this woman touch him!?”
      There are many lessons in this particular account of Christ, but what Jesus says at the end of this section is something to be taken to heart, “I tell you, her sins- and they are many- have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love.  But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love.”  One commentary states, “The woman was not forgiven because of her love; rather, she loved because she was forgiven.  Her faith brought her salvation…” (The Bible Knowledge Commentary, 224).
      When it comes to legalism in our hearts, how often do we sit back with arms folded and disapproving looks on our faces when someone begins to admit their sin?  This week, Greg will share with us about good behavior, our motives behind our good behavior and what it really reveals about our hearts.  We have been forgiven of much, so therefore, we should love much.  Our love comes from gratitude in our hearts from the simple act of forgiveness.
       I love this story, from Luke 7, because each of us can find ourselves in one or both of the parties spoken about, the sinful woman, and the arrogant Pharisee.   How can we seek to identify ourselves as sinners, who have been forgiven, and to love much?  What are our motives behind our actions?  Is it true “love” for Christ?  Or simply out of legalistic expectations?

Take a few moments to read through this poetic song, of the story from Luke 7, when our response toward Christ and others is motivated by gratitude and love, our worship becomes authentic, and our love for others is even more genuine.

From glass alabaster she poured out the depths of her soul ,
O foot of Christ would you wait if her harlotries known?
Falls a tear to darken the dirt of humblest offerings to forgive the hurt.
She is strong enough to stand in your love I can hear her say:
I am weak, I am poor, I am broken Lord, but I’m yours […]
Looking forward to worshiping with you all on Sunday,
 Meridith

memoirs

Memories and images of you and i
like a dream you always have
but seem to forget when you awake
and hope it isn’t real

Saying goodbye again and again
but realizing you left when i began to speak
or that you were never really there
just an image

If i had never met you
i’d never know how strong i am
But now  the memories are faded
yet brought back to life again, today

But you seek the comfort of having someone near
even if it breaks her heart
or any heart
you don’t really seem to care

All that matters is the illusion of happiness
superficial joy
but i know you are still searching
i know deep inside you are always confused

For we cannot move forward
until we embrace our pain
You will never forgive her unless you try
and i can only try to forgive you, with a sorry-less goodbye

Though the blood has long been healed
my scar still remains
though i’m sure you will never know
or probably care

i wish you the best
i hope you can find yourself
i hope you begin to know how to feel
and forgive, start there.

O Love…

O Love that wilt not let me go
George Matheson 

O Love that wilt not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

O light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

travel plans

Bangkok Friends,

I can’t tell you how crazy the past few weeks have been, not just for me, but I know for each and every one of you.  The flood has been less than ideal, but mostly, it’s heart breaking hearing that Thailand is going through this difficult crisis.  Prayers are going up for you all.

Anyway, in light of the flooding, I’ve decided to postpone my trip to see you all, January 11-30.  I know right now I would be fine to make it to GES, Nichada, and those areas, but when I come, I have plans to do more traveling, shopping and other sightseeing that right now I know I wouldn’t be able to do with the flooding.

I love and miss you all, and can’t wait to smile, laugh, play music, catch up, and enjoy life with each of you.  My heart is with you all!

With Love,
Miss Meri