Thursday, December 19, 2013
Sunday, August 18, 2013
My Life
Surrender
When I sing the hymn, “Take My Life,” the words echo
in my soul for days afterwards, stirring a cry of my heart.
Take
my life, and let it be
Consecrated,
Lord, to Thee;
Take
my moments and my days,
Let
them flow in ceaseless praise,
Let
them flow in ceaseless praise
I read the story behind the hymn, and admire the
passionate purpose behind the touching words. The devotion behind the lyrics by
Francis Havergal, whose main desire was to surrender all of her possessions and
being to the Lord for His purpose, resonates deeply. In her short life, she had
but one purpose: to surrender her life to God.
“I have been crucified with Christ; and it is
no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in
the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself up
for me,” (Galatians 2:20).
It’s when the "going gets tough" and the "tough gets
going" that I should fall to my knees in surrender. It’s when I want to give up,
fall down, sink in, or let go, and instead I need to rejoice that I’ve got a
Holy Power living in me, and I just need to stop trying.
Surrendering is dropping agendas and plans, and
embracing the unthinkable, knowing that it’s a far better plan to surrender.
When I don’t get to do what I want to do, but instead I meet a friend and listen
to her pour out her heart, I thank God for making me surrender to His agenda.
It’s when I/you/we surrender our
*precious* minutes, hours, days, months, years (a.k.a LIFE) in order to embrace
Him.
It’s when I, finally, get through my stubborn
cranium that surrendering to His will is best, but oh, so hard.
Take
my hands, and let them move
At
the impulse of Thy love;
Take
my feet and let them be
Swift
and beautiful for Thee,
Swift
and beautiful for Thee
Surrender is when we give Him our hands and feet, to take us
and make us, not what we want, but what He desires.
Take
my voice, and let me sing
Always,
only, for my King;
Take
my lips, and let them be
Filled
with messages from Thee,
Filled
with messages from Thee.
When we lay
down our words, our voice, our praise, to Him—that’s surrender.
Take
my silver and my gold;
Not
a mite would I withhold;
Take
my intellect, and use
Every
power as Thou shalt choose,
Every
power as Thou shalt choose.
Surrender, is when we give our most prized material
possessions, our entire being, our
everything, and give it all to Him, to make and mold what He will. Surrender is the story of the missionary couple who sold all of their belongings, left their loved ones, and traveled to Africa to shout out His Name to others. That's surrender.
Take
my will, and make it Thine;
It
shall be no longer mine.
Take
my heart; it is Thine own;
It
shall be Thy royal throne,
It
shall be Thy royal throne.
Surrender, sweet surrender, is when I lay down my
will, and make it His and when I give Him my heart, and it becomes His.
I’m a flawed human being, I need Him.
Monday, July 1, 2013
A Heart for Haiti
The hope in the eyes of the girls
overflow with natural joy and laughter—the most beautiful sound I’ve ever
heard. Their smiles melt hearts, their laughter is electrifying, and their
touch is comforting. They embrace and welcome those who walk into their midst,
making one feel as if they had always been friends with these little
Haitian girls.
If
you walk onto the premises of the Consolation Center, one can instantly feel
the most calming and peaceful spirit residing. From sounds of laughter to the
smiles and handshakes of all those who pass, you can feel God’s presence in an
overwhelming sense.
From
the moment I stepped off the airplane, into the densely hot and dusty, I knew
that my life was going to change. As I anxiously followed my father, I prayed
that my God would change my life and that every step I took would be to serve
Him
Words that come to mind when I’m questioned about my time in
Haiti are: hope, joy, compassion, and love. Words that one wouldn’t suppose
would reflect an impoverished nation and yet these words were clearly what I
took home with me. As in all places, along with the overwhelming sense of
compassion and hope is an overwhelming sense of despair and darkness; but in
the midst of what I saw, the hope drew a veil across the darkness in an
awe-inspiring way.
The
notes scribbled in beautiful cursive English through the pages of my prayer
journal, from my newly formed “little sisters” tell me of how they were going
to pray for me. “Jesus loves you and so do I,” a token of hope that spoke from
their hearts.
While
we sat drawing pictures to translate English to Creole and vice-versa, they paused
to sing a song, reminding me that, “This is the day that the Lord has made/I
will rejoice.”
(For
the record, I learned while I was there that I CANNOT play dominoes correctly.
Even with the language barrier they kindly told me that I just wasn’t getting
the hang of the game. )
During
the church service, the outdoor sanctuary resounded with the voices of men and
women, speaking two languages, but singing praises to one God. It was amazing.
It’s not something I can describe simply, but an experience that touched me
deeply.
One year ago, almost to the date, I was faced
with a heavy burden on my heart for missions. This burden had grown in weight,
for years I had felt God working in my life and my heart toward missions, and I
prayed that the Lord would open this door if it was in His will. God lit a fire
in me that burned constantly for people, people in my present life, but
particularly in foreign fields. My parents encouraged me to become practiced in
sharing my faith, joining friends for evangelism and becoming comfortable sharing
the Gospel. Still, my heart was burdened, and I felt an intense motivation to
join a trip on the field.
Generally I was unaccustomed to
taking colossal steps, but the fire in me for the Gospel wasn’t easily
extinguished and I felt that this was a true sensation from God. I searched and prayed, for opportunities that
would allow me to immerse myself into a foreign mission, show me the real,
un-fictionalized and hard reality of missions, and one that would leave me
excited about the Gospel. Quite the tall order, but I knew that the Lord was in
control of my footsteps.
Through a series of miraculous
events, we found an organization that was located in three areas, Peru, India
and Haiti. The first step, out of many in partnership with this country I hope,
was through an organization called Global Compassion Network. GCN is an
instrumental organization that encourages and promotes self-sustainability,
care for the poor and the powerless, and promoter of the Gospel.
With Haiti being a familiar place
for my trip partner, aka my Dad, and a country close to his heart we prayed
about the next step. I prayed that God would close the door for this trip if it
wasn’t in His will, but knowing that if He kept the door open that tremendous
things would happen.
Between the months, I prepared for
my trip and I was encouraged to fill myself with the Holy Spirit, to become
focused completely in Him. In order to show love and compassion to those around
us, it’s vital that we make Him our full focus. I desperately wanted to show
people the love that I received when I first committed my life to Christ. I
desired to provide them with examples of how Christ demonstrates His love for
us.
My goal was to show compassion to
these people, but in truth I was the one that felt the compassion, I was the
one touched, and I was the one who was blessed beyond words. In my journal on
Day 4 I wrote, “God is moving in me and those around me in an incredible way, and I’m
touched by all that I see and experience. I feel such a connection to this
country. What an experience it is to be amidst all of these wonderful people
and to see how much hope they have, when it appears that they have nothing.
They possess so much in the Lord and are so grateful.” From the
dominoes that keep their attention for hours, to the scrambled T.V. that they
gather around to watch, they appear to have nothing. But their happiness
goes further than materialistic things, it goes to the heart.
To my Americanized expectations, I
expected to see disparity amongst the poverty, but instead I saw hope. When I
expected to change lives, my life was changed instead. You can’t help but be
changed when you’re walking the filthy streets, passing bare-boned women, who
don’t have two coins to rub together, but flash a beautiful smile as you walk
by. You can’t help but be touched when you cuddle the three year old girl who
just lost her mom and doesn’t always smile. How can you not be touched when you
have forty-hot bodies crouching over you to see a picture on your phone, for
the eighteenth time in five minutes?

When our trip ended, I tearfully
loaded up the luggage and headed back for the trek to the airport. I waved and
hugged goodbye my little Haitian friends, probably one of the hardest parts of
my trip. (If it was at all possible for me to have toted one of them in my
suitcase, I would’ve done so)
I waved goodbye to the desperately poor but
hopeful country, touched to my heart. As I drove away I had a sense that this
would not be the last time I would step foot in the country.
The Lord had guided my footsteps
and He had led me to this place, and I loved it. I’m so excited to see
where the Lord will lead me in this season of my life and I feel so confident
that God will do incredible things in the lives of those in Les Cayes, Haiti. I
was only there for 10 days, but long enough to catch a glimpse of the
incandescent, love and hope they hold.

This is merely the beginning of one
chapter of my journey. I’m holding onto the promise that the Lord will guide my
footsteps into a place designed to serve Him, and I’m enjoying it so much. I
can only smile in sheer delight at what He is doing currently and what He will
do in the future. God is my Everything and I doubt that I could have absorbed the fullness of my trip if He hadn't been at the center of my life.
If you make Him your Everything, He'll lead you to beautiful places.
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