Snakes and Scorpions

Shortly before I left for Zimbabwe in 2006 I had a dream. A very vivid and haunting dream.

I was with a group of my friends in something like an orchard. Actually, the setting actually is what I would imagine the Garden of Eden to look like. Lots of full and green trees.

Although the surroundings seemed peaceful, my dream was anything but. There was a snake, a very large snake, slithering through the trees. In the dream it definitely looked like a snake. The huge kind of snake that you see versions of in museums and zoos because of their unbelievable size. But as slithery and snake like that it was, there was a human quality about it.

The snake's desire was clear; he was there to devour and destroy life. With his desire clear, my only ambition in the dream was to keep my friends alive. Every ounce of energy I had, everything I did, was for survival.

The beautiful fullness of the trees gave the snake a good disguise. We would run and hide and think were were safe, but as soon as we would let our guard down, that snake would poke its head out to attack.

In my dream I took on the role of protector. I would jump in front of the person in danger, and fight the snake until he would resign. Then we would run for safety, to once again find the snake there waiting.

It seemed like this went on for days, running and running, fighting and fighting, to protect my friends from the snake. Until finally, in my dream, one of my friends grabbed me by the shoulders, looking me straight in the eyes. As she began to speak, I saw the snake slithering down from a tree behind her, and it, too, was looking me in the eyes.

My focus now on the snake, I tried to escape from her grasp. I needed to protect her from the serpant. Instead she held on tight, shook me back to attention, and said, these exact words,

"Rebecca, don't you see? The snake isn't after us. It wants you."

And with those haunting words, I awoke.

The verse that immediately came to mind was Luke 10:19.

I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power if the enemy; nothing will harm you.

I knew to expect spiritual warfare going into a country where satan had claimed the land, the president and the government for himself.

But this dream shook me, and it warned me.

The thing about spiritual warfare is that it uses disguise. It can come in many shapes and forms. I have found that often times I spend much energy putting my guard up in areas I expect to find attack.

And while my focus is on those areas, a battle is being waged against me that I have not fought back against, because I have not recognized it.

The serpant is sneaky. He slithers through the lush green trees.

I went to Zimbabwe covered in prayer. I set up my guard against lonliness, pride, discouragment, helplessness, and fear.

And then three weeks after my arrival, as I was hitting my stride and the relational wheels had been set in motion, I came down with malaria.

And it held me down.

I found that every ounce of energy I had was used for survival. The next two weeks were a daze. High fevers and severe dehydration caused my mind to be jumbled.

One night, when I was at my worst, I stumbled to the bathroom in the dark without shoes. An instinctive warning shreiked through my body, and physically stopped me. I fumbled for a flashlight, and at my feet was a centipede. Not a normal centipede, the largest one I have ever seen. A centipede with plenty of poison to easily kill me in my weakened condition. As I moved away to find something to kill it with, it disappeared.

My friends turned my room upside down and inside out to find that centipede, and never found it.

A couple days later Tecla physically forced me outside to get fresh air. I was so sick, and so cold, I had stayed under the covers for a good week. Although it was well over 100 degrees, I sat on a bench in the sunlight shivering. As Tecla stood and talked to me, her face changed to restrained panic. She pulled me up and walked me several feet away. It wasn't until a few minutes later, when they were removing the nest, that I saw the swarm of wasps that had formed near where my head was. Tecla said she is sure the nest formed and the wasps appeared right in front of her, as she stood there talking to me.

It was that day I realized that I had been holding Luke 10:19 close to my heart and constantly in my mind, but I was translating it metaphorically, when in my situation I needed to be taking it literally as well.

I was suddenly aware that Satan's attack on me was physical. He did not just want to wear me down spiritually. He physically wanted to destroy me. He wanted me dead. But God literally has given me authority to trample on snakes and scorpions, mosquitos and centipedes, and even wasps.

I literally encountered deadly snakes and scorpions. I encountered many things that Satan wanted to use to wipe me out. But God protected me. He prepared me for war and armed me for battle.

I put my faith in an ever-loving and all-powerful God. I knew he had me in Zimbabwe for a purpose. In faith I claimed his authority over my life. I stopped living for mere survival, and lived in abundance and joy.

As I plan to return to Zimbabwe, I am arming up for battle once again. I do not know how Satan will disguise himself, but I ask that you would join in covering me in prayer.

Pray that I would be armed with spiritual discernment and clarity of mind.

I would be so honored if you would stand with me in this way, claiming authority over the schemes of the serpant.

It is the most important role you can play.

Rocked

In my quest to learn people's stories, I am reading "Tortured for Christ" by Richard Wurmbrand. He is the founder of The Voice of the Martys, and this book is part of his story from prison.

You may remember a post I wrote about this organization and the book giveaway a few months back.

I love reading, and I never pass up a free book. Well, it has been sitting on my shelf for a while now, and I figured it was time to learn Richard Wurmbrand's story.

Can I just say, I just finished chapter two, and I can already say with assurance that you need to go out and get this book right now.

Right now.

My world has been rocked.

And I have only read two chapters.

R.W. writes in plain language that makes me feel like he is sitting at my table and sharing with me personally the most horrid and beautiful things I have ever heard.

Now I understand why they are giving the book away for free. It is something every Christian needs to read. I am tempted to share with you some of the things I have read, in two chapters, that have convicted me and encouraged me, brought me to tears, and brought me to my knees. But I could never do them justice.

You can go here to request your free copy of this book. And you can also order copies for your friends. If I knew your address I would send you one right now.

So, if you are looking for something to rock your world, read this book. You will not be disapointed.

The Challenge. August 2010.

So, how did you guys do with July's challenge?

There are two countries that really stood out to me that I have never spent much time learning about or praying for before.

The first is Afghanistan. I hear about it all the time in the news, but in reality, how much does the news really say? I didn't know much about the country past Islam, the Taliban, and death tolls. Well, maybe I knew I little bit more than that, but not much.



When learning the history of this war-torn country, the people that God really placed on my heart are the women. I won't go into much detail, but really, the way of life for the women of Afghanistan in recent history is beyond my comprehension. I am far from being a feminist, but I am so thankful for the freedom I have known my whole life.

I will leave it to you (for now) to research more if you are interested, but I will recommend a book called "A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini. The characters and story are fictional, but the setting is real life Afghanistan over a stretch of several decades. I promise, if you read this book, you will be changed.

The second country, Eritrea, is one I knew nothing about other than location.



What drew me to Eritrea is a man named Andy.

Andy works at a Photo Lab. Six years ago when I returned from my first trip to Africa, I went to his photo lab to get my pictures developed. When I went to pick them up he said he really enjoyed my pictures from Ethiopia, because they reminded him of home.

I learned that Andy was from Eritrea, and fled to Ethiopia due to political crisis in his home country, and from there he moved to the United States.

Other than what Andy had told me about Eritea, I never learned anything more. That is until I was looking over the map of persecuted countries, and saw Eritrea there in red.

I don't use that photo lab anymore (thanks to digital cameras and the internet), but every once in a while I'll stop by and say hi to Andy. He has followed my journey to Zimbabwe and back, and when I walk in he greets me with a warm smile and says, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be somewhere in Africa?" (He says that everytime :)

After I read more about Eritrea and the suffering its people, specifically its Christians, have under gone, it really gives me a greater respect and intrigue for my friend.

And that brings me to this month's challenge:

Learn somebody's story.

I hope to, this month, visit Andy and learn more of his story, as well as others.

We interact with dozens of people everday. I have noticed the older I get and the more of a hurry I am in, the shorter and less significant these interactions become.

It could be anyone: your barista, someone you work with, someone who goes to your church, a friend of a friend, someone you interact with online...the possibilities are endless. Challenge yourself to go a little deeper with someone outside your normal comfortable circle.

To this day I have a friend that I shook hands with at a church I was visiting three years ago during the usual 1 minute "greet someone you don't know" time, a friend who I met two years ago sitting the row in front of me at a concert, and a friend I made six years ago at a photo lab.

These monthly challenges are things, in my own life, that I see need change, or that God places on my heart to do. This month's challenge is personal to me, as it is something I miss about myself.

I want to slow down and take the time once again to really hear people, to know them, and to learn their stories. Will you join me?

Community

When I moved to Zimbabwe in 2006, one of my main responsibilities there was to oversee the building of 3 homes.

The project was called "One Child at a Time", and it was a blessing project to be done in addition to the ministry Tecla does on a day to day basis.

Tecla's ministry is unique in a way that she has decided not to build an orphanage to care for the orphans she encounters. Instead she works to place them in loving homes, one child at a time.



In a country where there is no foster care system, God placed it on her heart to try to provide the best for these kids, which is family.

Surprisingly, in a country where the unemployment rate is 95%, Tecla does not have much difficulty finding loving parents to care for these orphaned children.

Before arriving in Zimbabwe, I was a bit worried that these children were being taken in by families who did not necessarily want to accept these kids as their own children, but rather take them in as workers. Although this option can be much better than what the children would face out on the streets, it is not the best that God desires for his kids.

When I arrived I discovered loving families who had taken in these children as their own. Some of them are related to the orphans they care for, some not. But what touched me the most was seeing the sacrifice this meant.

These families, all of them headed by single women, do not have a penny to spare. They do not have the option of buying more porridge to fill the hungry tummies. Instead they sacrifice their own. They do not house these children as slaves, but instead these women work twice as hard so that they too can attend school with their new siblings.




This is where Tecla comes in. She does not place these children into homes and then walk away. She continues to work with them and their families to make sure they are all provided for. Everything Tecla does on a day to day basis comes out of her own pocket. She works hard to run a business, but not to get rich. She works hard so she can ensure these families are provided for.

Tecla has taken on the role as a caregiver. These mothers try their best to care for their families, but at times this is impossible. Tecla will help provide food, clothing, medical treatment, and school fees as she can. She'll visit home to home, and see where her extra care is needed. But sometimes there are needs that she cannot meet.

For example, when a family is sleeping like sardines on a dirt floor, covered by a holey tin roof. "Houses" that welcome in centipedes, snakes, mosquitos, and scorpions, and offer no protection from intruders. The cost of providing healthy living conditions is a cost beyond what Tecla can provide. But the cost of not is something she cannot bare. This is where we decided to help.



Because of inflation rates we pushed to get the houses built as quickly as possible. I thought I was there for a year, but there was a sense of urgency to finish the homes. Now I understand why.

We were able to complete three homes in three months. Three homes with roofs, cement floors, doors, and windows. Homes for families that work harder and sacrifice more than most could imagaine.



Although Tecla and I worked hard to get everything in order for these houses to be built, the famlies worked even harder. We hired a contractor to help, but it was the families who did most of the work. When one family was not working on their own home, they were helping one of the other families with theirs.





After spending years in a private college and church, and hearing sermon after sermon on community, it was in Zimbabwe where I actually learned what community really means.

A Mended Heart

Remember Achile?

Well, thanks to Compassion International and you, he has been given a second chance at life. Oh how I would love to watch him run and laugh and play with his mended heart.



And in case you were wondering, I am still fighting the urge to jump on a plane and travel half way around the world just to hug him.

Brothers.

Stephenson and Joseph were born as cousins.


But they were raised as brothers.

Both of them innocent victims of AIDS. Both of them born to mothers who didn't survive to see their sons grow up. Both of them raised by their grandma.



Both boys were born into more adversity and responsibililty than any child should be. But they had eachother. Not only were they brothers, they were best friends.

Stephenson and Joseph were born with so much in common, even their age. But they were born with one huge difference. A huge gap that even brotherhood couldn't fill.

Joseph was born HIV positive. Stephenson was not.




When I met these boys and was first touched by their bond of brotherhood they were thirteen.

Stephenson had walked Joseph several miles to find Tecla. This was a common practice for them. Some days it was to visit, or recieve food, but more often than not, and on that day, it was because Joseph was sick.

During the months I spent getting to know these boys, I experienced the constant rollercoaster that they called life.



Joseph never felt well, but he would go a couple weeks feeling okay. Then he would get sick again. A cold, TB, or dehydration would crash in on his weakened immune system, and it would knock him out for weeks. Through it all Stephenson was by his side. He cared for him with complete love and respect. He never left his brother.

A friend loves at all times.

Every time they walked through the gate at the lodge I held my breath. Many days it meant a trip to the hospital, but some days, my very favorite days, it meant time. Time together. Time to get to know these children. Time to soak up their beauty and wisdom and grace.

One of Stephenson's favorite things to do when they'd visit was jump rope. I loved watching him jump rope, and so did Joseph. The laughter and joy of being a child, and having a rare moment to play like a child, was something Joseph and I both watched in admiration. His joy flowed out to us as we watched.



Shortly after I left Zimbabwe, Joseph and Stephenson's grandma passed away.




Stephenson then became Joseph's sole caregiver. Quite a responsibility for a 14 year old boy.

Not only did Stephenson continue to care for Joseph, he did it with love and grace, and with a smile on his face.

A brother is born for adversity.

Stephenson devoted his life to caring for his brother.

Then, in October of 2008,  Joe passed away.

I was devastated. I cannot even begin to imagine what Stephenson felt.

But in my sadness God gave me a vision. A vision of Joseph jumping rope with that same laughter and joy that I had seen wash over Stephenson's face. I realized that Joseph, for probably the first time ever, felt well. Joseph had suffered his entire life. But now he has no sickness or suffering or pain.



He is well.

The story of Joseph and Stephenson came to an end. But the story of Stephenson continues on.

The moment Joseph died, the family members who had allowed them to sleep on the floor out of sympathy for Joe, kicked Stephenson out onto the streets.

In a day he lost his brother, his best friend, and his home.

He was forced out on the streets, and from there we don't know.

We don't know where he lives. Where he sleeps. What he eats. Or what he does to survive.

Those things scare me. So, from here I pray. I pray for his safety and his innocence, and for that spirit of humility and grace. I pray he may find provision and love, wherever he may be.

Part of me holds onto a hope, that maybe we will find him. Maybe in December God will do a miracle, and I'll be able to hug him and love on him.

Stephenson is just one face, one child, one story of thousands of street children. But I ask that if his story, if this one life has touched your heart, that you would pray for him too.

I'm ruining the surprise.

I made this as a gift for my grandparent's 65th wedding anniversary. So, Grandpa and Grandma, sorry to ruin the surprise, but I couldn't wait three more weeks to share this.

I know, I am horrible at surprises.



I got the idea (and directions) from Bushel and a Peck (via my friend Julie).

It was really easy and fun, and best of all I got to lay out on canvas some of the Biblical principles my family values, and that I was raised on. Family values that have resulted in 65 years of fruitful marriage.

Incase you can't read them all, they are:

Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and strength.

Wives submit to your husbands.

Husbands love your wives.

Feed the hungry. Give water to the thirsty. Clothe the naked. Look after the sick. Visit those in chains.

Entertain strangers.

Be joyful always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances.

Serve one another in love.

Love your neighbor as yourself.

Encourage one another an build each other up.

Thank you Grandpa and Grandma for being living examples of these values. Love you.

Immersed

A few months back I shared about having a Mother's Heart. I shared that although I don't have any children of my own, God has blessed me with many children in my life.

Last week I was hanging out with some of the girls I have been mentoring for the last few years, and I just had an overwhelming sense of love for them. I felt love for them that I am sure parents feel for their children...so much that I felt like I was going to explode...so much love that I couldn't contain it.



Feeling that love for them just broke me. Have you ever had God break your heart for someone or something, and you are moved to continuously pray and long for them?



It is like that, but stronger than I have ever felt before.



I have loved these girls for years, and God broke my heart for the neighborhood they live in and the families who live there a long time ago, but last week God pulled me in deeper.



So deep I am completely immersed in God's love for these girls.

You Capture. Hands.

This summer at Youth for Christ one of our interns is leading a girls club. Each week she does a short Bible based message about being a woman of character, and then she teaches awesome and practical skills that most of these inner-city girls have never learned.

I have the honor of being her support and mentor for the summer, and have been blessed to sit in with the girls club every Monday and Wednesday.

Jackie is a Proverbs 31 woman to the core, and it is a beautiful thing to watch her share her time and skills with some of our junior high girls.




Over the course of summer she is teaching baking, sewing,




as well as some fun crafty things. This week the girls made picture frames.







I love seeing these girls being pushed each week to try new things. They really are stepping out of their comfort zones, and are so proud of their creations.

Yet another reason I love being part of Youth for Christ.

(please feel free to check out more photos from this week's You Capture)