My Run In With The Likes of Caitlyn Jenner

   

There was a palpable buzz in the room, especially for 8:30am on a Saturday morning. It's been a decade now, but I don't think I'll ever forget this day. I was in a group meeting for persons with schizophrenia. Yes, as an attendee; it was a requirement for my graduate studies in counseling. We had to attend Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, Narcotics Anonymous meetings, and the rest we got to choose. If I had a stalker during this time in my life, I'm pretty sure I scared him away.  I worked full time and went to school full time so, this 8:30am Saturday meeting was about my only option.
 
   I was nervous;  I wasn't afraid of mentally ill people, heck! I am one, I just didn't know what to expect. I sure did not expect to walk into a room of over 40 people, my text book said group therapy should be done in small groups, like 10-12 people. Guess they hadn't read my book.  It was chaotic! Everyone was talking loudly all at once and moving about the room, there was no identifiable leader, I seriously almost bailed. Eventually someone called everyone to order and said because there were so many today they would split us into two groups, sigh of relief, I'm not the only one who thought this was WAY too many people for a group. I spoke quickly with the leader making sure it was okay for me to be there and let her know that I would just be a silent observer and could even sit outside the circle if need be. "Nonsense," she said, "you sit with us and at the end we'll have some Q&A for you."

   I found a place on a tattered couch next to a tall skinny guy with wild curly hair, whiskers, tired eyes, oh and bright red lipstick, green eyeshadow, and a jean mini skirt. They say that in group settings of strangers, people will still subconsciously gravitate towards those they have the most in common with.  Since learning this, I've observed this to be true of most people, not sure what this says about me, but this was my seat of choice.  In all honesty, I think it was because it was the seat closest to the door.  The group leader asked us to turn to our neighbor and give a 2 minute update of our week, how we were doing, etc. Sam and I began to converse. (By the way,  I made up the name Sam.) Sam had had a rough week, people had been unkind, work had been harder than usual, my heart went out to Sam and so did my hand, I had reflexively placed my hand on Sam's arm. Sam's week had been so tough that it took up our 2 minutes so I didn't have the chance to introduce myself or clarify why I was there. At the break time I noticed they had a Coke machine so I was heading out to my car to get some change when Sam asked if I was leaving, "Nope, just getting change for the machine, you want a drink too?"

  When the meeting was called to order we returned to our same seats enjoying our cokes. After there had been a lot of sharing, the leader decides to introduce me and tell the group why I'm there. (I was hoping she'd forgotten about me.) She told me to ask anything I'd like, so I asked if anyone would be willing to share with me what a typical day is like for them. Their answers revealed that there really is no typical day, some days are okay, even uneventful, other days are filled with a rollercoaster of feelings, highs, lows, fears, anxieties, and chaos, but group helps, they told me. Sam said that a typical day is wanting to cut off body parts that feel like they don't belong. "Alone, crazy, uncomfortable in my own skin! " Again, my heart and hand went out. They were then able to ask me questions, they all spoke at once, and asked where I was from, if I was married, if I was scared of them, and what school I attended. I chuckled and began to feel more at ease and answered TN, nope, no way, and Assemblies of God Theological Seminary.

  Just when I was about to sigh with relief that the morning had gone so well, Sam jumped up and faced me. "So you're a Christian?" "Yes," I stammered, shocked at the question and the tone. "I don't believe you're a Christian!" The leader tried to interject, but I put my hand up to let her know I was okay. I really wasn't okay, my heart was pounding and I'm sure my face was red, but I wanted to know what on earth I had done in the last hour to warrant this response. Sam faced me and with a trembling voice said, "you sat beside me, you looked me in the eye,  you bought me a coke, you even touched me, I don't believe you're a Christian! The Christians who come into my work, if they don't ask for a different server they mock me, "Mam, Sir, whatever you are!" They leave Bible verses instead of tips, they're mean, horrible people!" The room got loud in agreement. The leader took charge and I don't know what she said, because my ears were ringing with panic, but she transitioned everyone to the snacks and it was all over in a matter of a minute or two. I wanted to just bolt for the door, I was shaking, but I turned to Sam and said, "I'm so sorry, can I pray for you?" I prayed thru my own tears and gave Sam a quick hug before I ran to sit in my car and put my head on my steering wheel. What just happened?! 

  It took me a long while to process it all, not this whole decade, but a while.  I was, AM, grateful for the experience especially while the nation was shouting back and forth about Caitlyn Jenner. Nothing I did that day was intentional, except maybe sit near the door. I was not attempting to be Christlike, I was there learning about the struggle of the people in this room for a class. My first reaction when Sam accused me of not being a Christian was offense and anger,  my mind said, "Hey! Wait a minute I was nice to you even though you're weird!" ** Before you jump all over me about my non PC comment, you need to know that I think anyone not like me is weird, you like cats? You're weird. You ENJOY sci-fi movies?  You're weird. You DON'T like to travel? You're weird. You love cottage cheese? Weird. Your idea of a fun day is shoe shopping?! Super weird. After hearing Sam's previous experiences with Christians I was relieved my affiliation did not show.  I may not have acted like a Christian that day, but I think I might have acted like Christ. (I was just as surprised as you are!) I'm sure no saint. and I don't know Sam's story or Jenner's real story, I'm sure there's some heartbreak and brokenness in there, but I do know a real love and a real Savior and it's Him I want to communicate to all you weirdos out there. My encounter with Sam changed me in so many ways that day and I pray that Sam encountered the real love of a real Savior that day, who can heal all of our brokenness no matter how weird we may be.

The Power of One

"He'll rule a nation one day- we just don't know if it will be for good or for evil!" we say in jest of my 3 year old nephew, Malachi- who is a delightful mix of sugar and spice all rolled up into one. He's the cute one in the photos to your left. I guess I'm taking for granted that you don't find Jesus, Hitler, or MLK Jr. cute though.

  I watched, "The Woman in Gold," last night, it wouldn't have been my movie of choice as I still haven't gotten over, "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas," but when my friend text me about it I figured it was about fashion.

   This one image, shown for a split second, stung me.
It's terrifying, awe striking, and unbelievable the influence and power that one man had. I had to shift my thinking to other ones so as not to become overwhelmed. I told myself just this past Monday we celebrated MLK Jr. another historical picture of the power of one, but then again, they killed him. I finally found some solace when the thought, "Before you know it all this snow will melt and we'll be hiding Easter eggs and celebrating the power of The One, they killed him too, but He got up, so enjoy the movie." Now you know my self soothing secrets.  But this post isn't about Malachi, Hitler, MLK, or even Jesus. In a way, it's about a man by the name of Abu al Barakat and in another way it's not about him either; it's about you or me, us.

   While I worked on Eurasia Experience and summer in southern Asia plans today, I listened to a message by Pastor Curt Harlow, it was about us too. It was called The Lost Sheep. He was preaching from the parable of the lost sheep so the title was appropriate yet lacking in creativity. I've both heard and preached this passage many times, but he brought to light something I hadn't known before.  In this time, if someone killed another man's sheep and was taken to court, he had to pay both for that sheep and all the sheep that sheep would've produced- they had to pay for the potential of the sheep. Sheep may be dumb, but they sure were (are) valuable to the shepherd. Which takes the sting off the Biblical comparison to us a bit.

  The fact that the shepherd would leave the 99 for 1 makes more sense if you understand the power of the 1. The shepherd did and does. I forget sometimes though.

  I don't much like crowds, they overwhelm me, plus I'm 5'2", the view isn't always pleasant for me. There were many times in Thailand where I was overwhelmed. Discouraged and disheartened as I looked in the mirror I would think, "Who do you think you are? This country is less than 1% Christian, what could you possibly do?" I didn't have a lot of faith in the power of that 1% or that 1 sheep staring back at me in the mirror. Surrounded by idols and Buddhist temples that 1 sheep in the mirror looked pretty dumb and insignificant.

  Here's a freebie, in case you didn't know this, the Bible says the enemy comes to steal, kill, and destroy, but he rarely has to go to those lengths when he can just discourage, dishearten, disappoint, distract, or frighten us. Turns out this sheep really is a little dumb, forgetting the power of One.

  My new assignment recently took me to a few places that are not 1% Christian, but 0% Christian and 100% Muslim. Actually, it's against the law NOT to be Muslim and that's not an old law; it's a 2008 law.

  Two things strike you immediately when you land on these islands- they're beautiful and they're serious about Islam.
                                           

I was familiar with a culture deeply rooted in its religion I mean, they say, "To be Thai is to be Buddhist," but there's no law mandating it so this must go deeper I thought, but I thought wrong. It's so rare that I'm wrong I was pretty surprised, but the truth is, up until the 12th century these islands were entirely Buddhist, which is quite a bit different from Muslim, in case you were wondering. But now they are 100% Muslim. I even saw the ruins of one of the first Buddhist temples here, it sits in this old grave yard.











This is where Abu comes in and my faith in the power of 1 and the power of The One grew three sizes that day outside this gated tomb.



   They tell me Abu is buried here, but they also tell me Elvis is buried at Graceland so who really knows?  Abu was a devout Muslim who visited these Buddhist islands from Morocco. A stranger visiting a foreign land is said to be responsible for the conversion of these islands to Islam and is greatly memorialized and honored here today.

  This is why my faith grew three sizes, this is what excited me! No! Not because the islands converted from Buddhism to Islam, but because of the power of one!  I want to be like Abu! You and I may only be one, well, technically we are 2, but you know what I mean. What can I, one, do in this overwhelming crowd?  I can remember Abu and the power of One. Here's to fulfilling our potential that the Shepherd sees. Embrace your power of one today, after all it's The One who supplies it anyway. Why yes, 1 person can make a difference, I sure know One who did for me.

What the Media Isn't Showing You about How THOUSANDS of University Students Rang in the New Year

I'm sure the hotel thought they were in for it when man buns, hoodies, and skinny jeans filled the lobby of the downtown Dallas Sheraton. I mean what would you expect from a couple thousand college students from state schools all over the south central US converging on a hotel to celebrate the New Year?  To be honest, I wasn't real sure what to expect myself.   #SCSalt was one of several XA (Chi Alpha) conferences going on around the United States this past week. I was there to represent Eurasia, to see if any of these selfie takers might be interested in serving or studying abroad.  Their hoodies and backpacks revealed they were from LSU, Texas A&M, OSU, Rice, Sam Houston, and lots of other letters and greek symbols with which I was not familiar.  My high hopes of having hundreds of students sign up to work with us in Eurasia diminished as we set up our booth directly across from the wildly popular 'sign up for a dodge ball tournament that would start way past my bed time' booth. I lowered my expectations and dodged a few frisbees.  Before the booth was even assembled students began to come over, I didn't really engage too much, I mean, the first gathering wouldn't start till later in the evening at 8pm so if I was going to make it thru the week with those late hours I needed to get in an afternoon nap! With little to no prompting they began to ask about opportunities in Israel, Russia, India, & ministry to the Syrian refugees. My curiosity was spiked,  cynical me wondered if these were some random religious studies majors in need of an internship so I inquired further. Computer science, nursing, English, music, graphic arts, archeology, and something to do with animals were the majors they rattled off. I tried to keep my jaw from dropping as they began to tell me about what they hoped to do with these things in the future and further inquired about opportunities to serve in Eurasia. These were some sharp twenty somethings, who had just paid hundreds of dollars to spend a week of their precious Christmas break at a conference with sessions about missions, prayer, and godly sexuality?! Is this real life? Are these real live university students from the United States of America?!  I surely had not heard about them as I flipped thru People and watched the news during my pedicure yesterday. I DID see interviews of people who looked a lot like them toting kegs and cases out of the liquor store promising the news anchor that they would not drink and drive and some versions of them talk about what they would be wearing on New Years and how many parties they planned to attend. I still wasn't convinced this handful of students who stood before me represented the masses that were gathering here in Dallas and at the other venues across the nation, I mean, it really seemed too good to be true. As they filled the lobby each day and night, students continued to come and inquire about opportunities to take Jesus to some of the toughest nations of the world.  Astounded and filled with awe I sat in the very back of their closing New Year's Eve service and took the above photo. I watched these future doctors, musicians, archeologists, teachers, video game creators, and tech geniuses- worship the Lord unashamedly. I watched precious moments as huge football players embraced one another in prayer, as students knelt all around the room praying for their families, campuses, and futures, as young couples prayed and worshipped together. Hope filled my heart not just for new workers in Eurasia, but for the future of my own nation. Standing before me on New Year's Eve this was IT, our future America seeking the Lord. The service closed out around 11pm and the event transitioned into a New Year's celebration with lots of music, food, laughter, and midnight kisses. (I know this from the hashtagged photos and noise level I could still hear from my bed in my 12th floor hotel room.) Happy New Year America, our future is BRIGHT!

Mr. Monty

A fixture in my life went home to be with Jesus this morning.  Always there. I'm having trouble processing today because something that's always there has to still be there,  right?  My family has attended the same church all my life, actually all my dad's life. I not only had the same pastor for 30 plus years, I've had the same church family. Well, obviously there were ebbs and flows in attendance, probably less than 100 people sometimes, close to 300 at another. People come and people go, but that's not true of all people. Some people stay, some people do not go. They don't just tell you about the faithfulness of God they model it, they live it, they ARE the faithfulness of God.

My older brother was six years older than me the baby nine years younger, yet we all had the same first Sunday School teachers. Actually, that's nothing, my former Sunday School classmates have children now and THEY had the same Sunday School teachers too.  Mr. Monty and Miss Laura. When I called their house this week to say, whatever you say in moments like this, "Thank you... I love you.... I'm praying... see you there....," whatever you can manage to get out before your heartache catches in your throat and words are replaced with sobs. A nurse or family member, a voice I didn't recognize answered the phone and I wasn't prepared for that, I stuttered, "May I speak to Mr. Monty or Miss Laura?" I'm sure they thought why is this grown woman using nursery school titles? Because I may not have remained 4 years old, (although I'm told I DID remain in (read refused to leave) the 4yo SS class till I was maybe 6), but they've remained Mr. Monty and Miss Laura in my life. Fixtures. Faithfulness.

As I've played and replayed the memory reel over and over in my mind today the only memories I have of Mr. Monty are of smiles, of being hugged and told, "We love you, you know that?" Of him saying, "She's on our tab!" to the waitress. Of Christmas and Birthday cards EVERY single year of my life.  Of being handed check, after check after check. I started going on mission's trips in 1995, therefore I started fundraising in 1995 and haven't really stopped, there is not one trip they did not contribute to monetarily and prayerfully. So every good thing done, every life changed, every soul heaven gained on those trips, he's finding out right now as he stands before Jesus that those too are on his tab.  Supporters, like church attenders, ebb and flow too especially when you fundraise for 20 years, but again they, Mr. Monty and Miss Laura, are the exception or rather the exceptional.  Since becoming a full time missionary in 2009, I get a monthly statement that lists every supporter who gave that month, I do not have a statement that doesn't list Ernest M. and Laura Gilliam. Loving. Generous. Consistent. Faithful.  Like captions, in my mind's eye I see these words underneath the memories, the moments, that if compiled span my entire life. Captions that equal the attributes of the life of Mr. Monty. Attributes that are listed in Galatians 5:22:  "The fruit of the Spirit is Love, Joy, Peace, Forbearance, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self-Control..." I don't know about you, but I might get one or two of these listed as my attributes on a really good day, but the other days it's hit or miss, or miss again.

I'm astounded when I look my memory reel and I look at Galatians 5:22 and it's ALL there in the life of Mr. Monty, every word, every evidence of a life lived full of the Spirit of God. Love oozed in word and deed, Joy evidenced with smiles & laughter & other intangible measures, Forbearance in love and showing up for so many from cute toddlers, thru the difficult teen years, into adulthood, when you can take smelly boys on campouts and put up with them week after week, 45 years of marriage, and 60 plus years of serving your church, your community, and the Lord every single day. Kindness and Goodness relate more to how you made others feel - my FB feed, full of tributes, says Mr. Monty was more than kind and good. Faithfulness is probably the best way to describe Mr. Monty, a fixture, always there, not just in presence, but in service and duty, and most of all character. Gentleness you do not teach a children's Sunday School class that children do not want to graduate from for over 30 years without being gentle. In all my years of knowing Mr. Monty, I cannot recollect even one memory of him being angry, hateful, or even impatient with me, this, to me, is a picture of Self Control.  It's ALL there.

So, Mr. Monty, thank you for being a real live example of what it means to be Christlike, it's taught us and molded us, and shaped me into who I am today. Your life has challenged me to get it right more often, to show up, to remain faithful and in step with the Savior that you taught me about with flannel boards, and popsicle sticks, and Easter bunny costumes. So, Thank you, I love you, see you there...

I'm totally confused by this photo, how is the bunny standing there if Mr. Monty is OUTSIDE the costume?
The Easter Bunny must be real. 

MENE TEKEL: The Handwriting on the Wall

This post is mostly just the notes from my pastor's message this morning, but it answered a lot of my, "Why is my own culture freaking me out more than all the Asians, Haitians, and Africans combined?" 

You can read past posts about how coming to America has sent my brain into a tail spin, but I thought I might not be the only person to benefit from this message so I'm relaying it here, so thanks Pastor Jeremy Godwin for being a "guest blogger" today! 

Can you read the handwriting on the wall?  Daniel 5:26-27 "God has numbered the days of your kingdom and brought it to an end; you have been weighed in the balances and found wanting." 

Is your life out of balance?  I searched the internet for a good image and this one was actually titled, "Mary's Unbalanced Life," so I took that as I sign that it was the one to use! 

My pastor speculated this morning that our number one problem is the PACE of our lives. Coming most recently from a much SLOWER Asian culture I can say, "TRUE STORY!" 

If the handwriting on your walls is saying, UNBALANCED! UNBALANCED! UNBALANCED! 

Then keep on reading my notes from this morning's service:  

   When My Life is Out of Balance:

1. The risk of making sinful (bad, dumb, wrong, unhealthy, unBiblical) choices greatly increases.

     Luke 21:34:  But watch yourselves lest your hearts be weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the cares of this life and that day come upon you suddenly like a trap. 

2.  My emotions are inconsistent. 

      Job 9:25:  My days are swifter than a runner, they flee away; they see no good. 

3. I am less productive.

     Proverbs 21:5: Careful planning puts you ahead in the long run; hurry and scurry puts you further behind. 

      Proverbs 19:2:  A person in a hurry makes mistakes. 

4.  I end up empty inside. 

     Ps. 39:6:  Surely a man goes about as a shadow! Surely for nothing they are in turmoil, man heaps up wealth and does not know who will gather. 

5.  I can't hear God.  (YIKES!)

    Ps. 46:10:  Be STILL, and know that I am God. 

So, if the handwriting is there, what can we do about it?  Afterall, this is your LIFE! 

How to Catch Your Breath

Mark 6:31:  And He said to them, "Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest awhile." For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure to even eat. 

1. Stop the constant push for more. 

   Ecc. 4:6:  Better is a handful of quietness than two hands full of toil and striving after the wind. 

   Proverbs 14:30:  A tranquil heart gives life to the flesh, but envy makes the bones rot. 

   Proverbs 20:25:  It is a snare to say rashly, "It is holy," and to reflect only after making vows. 

** It's always easier to get into something than to get out of something!!!** 

2. Keep the sabbath day. 

   Exodus 20:9-10:  Six days you shall labor, and o all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God.  On it you shall not do any work, you, or your son, or your daughter, your male or female servant, your livestock, or the sojourner who is within your gates. 

3.  Stay close to Jesus. 

   Ps. 23:1-3:  The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters.  He restores my soul.  He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake."

    Matthew 11:28-30: Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you fill find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light"  

  So, what do we need to do?  What every cop I've ever met has told me to do, "Slow Down!" 

Hard Shell or Soft Shell, 10K miles, and Tide Detergent

First of all, the answer is HARD SHELL! But we'll get to that in a minute because it mostly starts with my arrival back into the states in mid December.

For anyone wondering, reverse culture shock is a beast and still going, going, and going like the stinking Energizer Bunny! I'm not a fan.

So I arrived and was homeless until mid March, true story! I guess you could say I was living out of my car since between then and now I've put about 10K miles on it, but mostly I stayed in OPP (which I hope really does stand for Other People's Property) I'm definitely down with OPP yeah you know me- my friends have some really nice digs!

**Thank you Mom & Dad, Matthew & Cara, Carrie,  Coles, Ross', Whitehursts, Sandy, McConvilles, Tiffs, Mentons, Gambers, Waters, Days,  Montgomerys, Bagunus, Hollemans, Whitleys, Bales, Lauren,  McKays, Shands, Allens, Fentons,  Tuttles, Libba, Phillips, Lusbys, Harts, Aimee, Cruises, Louisiana District, Kolmans, Kirkpatricks, Yanceys, Grants, Steinbachs, McCarty, Shanna, and Jamie for your time, support, and hospitality already this year! ** 

Wow! I really get around! And I really did enjoy my time with each of them, but what I could've done without was all the stuff in my car- like 3 XL suit cases, a couple of totes, a couple overnight bags, all pertinent electronics, missions booth stuff, back pack, couple of purses, Vicks humidifier, case of water, case of coke,  you know, my LIFE! oh wait, let's not forget the 100oz, 64 load, bottle of liquid, original scent Tide detergent. It's like my American Express, I don't leave home without it.

Do you know what happens when a 100oz, 64 load bottle of thick blue liquid original scent Tide spills in your car/home/mobile office/closet/storage unit?  Because I DO!

 I'd just driven from OKC to Dallas and was checking into the Holiday Inn about to go pick Sara up from the airport and take her to the Thai Consulate to get her Visa. Other than the snow storm I'd just survived in OK, things had been pretty smooth as far as travels go, I was determined to be prepared and organized and just enjoy the road! I was unloading my neatly packed overnight bag when I noticed it, my soft shell suit case appeared to have something purple all over it, I touched it hesitantly it was sticky, I pulled it out thinking no harm, no foul I'll clean it off! WRONG! Harm AND Foul!

I'm not sure my description can do it justice, but I'm going to try:

First of all, I calmly went inside checked in and grabbed a nice white towel from my hotel room and went down to assess the damage. So.. imagine all that STUFF in my car. Imagine, a small canvas bag of electronics, chargers, camera, ipod, USBs, SOAKED! Imagine my brand new prayer cards in a cardboard box, DRIPPING! Imagine books filled with BLUE pages! Imagine my new to me car, recently detailed, with FORMERLY light tan, cloth interior! Imagine a bottle of 100oz Tide with about 20oz left! EVERY NOOK & CRANNY!  Did I mention it is raining? Because it's raining. I'm soaked, the parking lot is getting a good cleaning as soap bubbles surround the back of my car. Nonetheless I pulled it all out and wiped it down best I could, tossing what could not be salvaged, and went to close the hatch of my SUV. Do you know what happens in that indentation around the license plate when the hatch has been up in the rain for a good 20 minutes? It fills with water. Do you know what happens to said water when the hatch is slammed shut and you are 5'2'? My head was soaked and my silk blouse transparent! I then trekked thru the lobby and up to the 3rd floor of the Holiday Inn Express soaked with my newly blue STUFF! I ran the tub full of water and stuck it all in there, I didn't know what else to do. Then I opened the soft shell suit case to get out a change of clothes and surprise I now have thick sweaters and shirts and jeans pretreated with Tide, in a frenzy I dumped them all into the tub.  I threw on dry clothes and drove to the airport to pick up my friend. I came back to a blue liquid filled tub with electronics and sweaters, oops! It was then that we noted that there was a washer and dryer on the ground floor.. so we hauled the blue soaking wet sweaters and jeans, down the hall and into the elevator, machines full so we had to make a couple more trips. There are now "caution wet floor!" signs in the elevators and pretty much every where we had been and maids cursing in Spanish about some unknown agua azul!

Rereading this, I really CANNOT do this situation justice, but hopefully this gives you a glimpse to the Tide Fiasco.

What did I get out of this aside from a great smelling vehicle and lots of blue stuff?

Well, I had really been wrestling with God on some issues, some plights of those I love specifically stuff like  Psalm 51:17 where it says, The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; A broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise. 

Why do you want us to be broken,  Lord? (Granted there are dozens of more verses about how He's near the brokenhearted, He desires to revive the broken in spirit, He heals the brokenhearted, etc. etc.) But He really desires for us to be broken for Him? It just sounds terrible. It doesn't preach, Lord. I don't like seeing my friends broken either.  And I don't really want any part of it myself, I'd tell Him. Then the Tide spilled.

64 loads is a lot of good cleaning out of one whole, sealed tightly bottle, but you wouldn't believe how far it can go when it's broken and spilled out. It reached nooks and crannies there's no way I could have even dreamed to reach or pour into from the whole, tightly sealed bottle. As I continue to find the tide and get whiffs from the back of my car, I'm reminded that when we're broken for Him even if some of that is for REAL brokenness, times of pain, discomfort, ugliness even, our reach is greater. Whole and tightly sealed with my controlled times of pouring out I've got 64 clean loads. Broken and spilled out my life reaches nearly unlimited nooks and crannies and nations. My reach is far extended and the pour is uncontrolled (by me anyway) now He's guiding and controlling the pours, it's reaching people and places I wasn't even aware existed (like the insides of USBs!) or maybe even kids in a village, up a mountain, and across a creek.

In her brokenness she now reaches mothers who have lost children born too soon because her story can now ooze into the depths of their pain and bring fellowship and healing. Out of his broken past he reaches those in the throes addiction. In their brokenness for the lost of Kenya they live among them and bring water to their parched souls and parched land. Out of the brokenness of poverty they endeavor to feed the nations. Out of the brokenness of a devastating tornado she joins the disaster relief team. Out of a broken home, a lonely childhood, they foster, they adopt. And these are just a few of my friends.

I guess the moral of the story is we should embrace our brokenness, but always buy hardshell luggage.

Clarity

This will just be a quickie, as I realize I really need to get back into the habit of writing whether it's here, an overdue newsletter, or recording the amazing grace filled stories of the Thai believers God gave me the privilege of working with over the last couple of years.

I must confess, US life is quite a bit faster paced and more overwhelming in a lot of ways than life in Thailand. Although abroad we have access to a lot of your news and articles and internet buzz, most of the time we have to seek it out, type it in, go looking for it. Here, not so much. Here the news, the noise, the opinions, the stuff, the BUZZ is just EVERYWHERE, ALL THE TIME! Sometimes I feel like I'm inside the Temple Grandin movie!

It's dizzying, like I drank too much and then I realize that I DID! Of the noise, I've listened too much, read too much, watched too much, put out too much and drank in too much- information, STUFF overload! This is not a blog about how I'm going to fast from my phone, the internet, television, billboards, my ipod, magazines, newspapers, my kindle,  the radio, books, blogs, social media, articles, movies, articles about movies, people, the voices in my head or any of it, or God forbid Netflix,  although it's all something to consider throwing out the window. It's about where I've found clarity in the midst of all that swirls and swooshes and swoops around me constantly, all the time, it's about what silences what surrounds us, the inescapable buzz.

I have many, many bad habits, but I have ONE really GOOD one. ONE that brings clarity, peace, understanding, straightening, cleansing, sets me upright, restores, renews, comforts, inspires, encourages, transforms, heals and guides me.  It's not a great therapist, 8 glasses of water a day, my best friend, it's not prayer, it's not fasting, it's not cross fit, it's not going to church, or Oprah or Joel Osteen podcasts, it's not helping others, or worship music, or yoga, or my mission's habit or even coca-cola. It's reading God's word, studying God's word, memorizing God's word.

I DO use guided Bible studies, but ones that systematically go thru God's Word because at the end of the day that's where the answers are, that's where the TRUTH is, that's where peace and clarity and an abundant life are found, in it's pages, in heeding it's guidance, it's very CLEAR direction for how to get thru all that swirls, swooshes, swoops, storms, and stomps around you today. This is my TRUTH. This is where clarity is found.