The Women- Best of 2011

(This is a repost for the "Best of 2011" hosted by Shanda at A Pause on the Path. The post, entitled The Women, was my most viewed post of 2011, and was written on April 23, 2011).


As I have read through the gospel accounts of the crucifixion and resurrection this week, I have taken special notice of one thing.

All four accounts are different, touching on different details of this story of ultimate sacrifice, and emphasizing different things in the story. But there is one thing that has stood out to me that all four gospels have in common….one detail that they are all sure to mention:

The women.

If you read through all four gospels, you will see that there was a large crowd of women with Jesus on the day he suffered for our sins.

They were with Jesus as he, beaten and bloodied, carried his heavy cross up the Via Dolorosa. They watched as his physical body gave way and could no longer carry the weight. (Luke 26-27)

The women were there as the guards tore off his clothing and cast lots for his undergarment. They were there as the nails pounded through his hands and feet, as his body cramped from dehydration and pain. (John 19:25, Mark 15:40, Matthew 27:55-56)

The women witnessed Jesus, as he hung dying on the cross, reach out to the criminal next to him. As people spat on him and mocked him, he loved. As a mother watched her son die, as these women watched their Savior suffer, they also watched him tenderly save a lost sheep. (Luke 23:42-43)

As Jesus experienced the ultimate form of humiliation, he showed ultimate humility.

The women were there as, with all his strength, Jesus cried out to his Father God. And the women were there in the moment he breathed his last breath.

In every step of Christ’s suffering, many women walked beside him. They did not have to. Their salvation was surely not at stake. In fact, most of the men who are present throughout the gospels are absent in these few chapters.

It was not an easy thing to do, to walk beside Jesus. But when women have passion, it is fierce, and as we see here, it is unstoppable. It can withstand the mocking and humiliation, intimidation and fear, and likely the hardest of all, the passion of a woman can withstand the sorrow.

Their mission was not to stop the crucifixion, because this was the most crucial event in history. Their mission was to be there: to be with Jesus, to not leave his side.

As Jesus suffered, he looked out into the crowd, and amongst the jeers and the hatred, his eyes met the gazes of those who loved him, those who reminded him of the beauty of salvation amidst all the ugliness of sin.

These women spent much time with Jesus during his life, and they were with him in those sacred moments leading up to his death. In these moments they learned.

They learned love, humility, and strength. These seeds that were already planted in them from creation were grown, and they were in full bloom on this day.

As we know, on the third day Christ rose. As we celebrate this day, the most important day in history, and as we sing praises to our God who sacrificed all, I ask that we, as women, would spend time here.

Here: in the pages of history, on the Via Dolorosa, in the crowd at Golgotha, at the foot of the cross, and at the empty tomb.

Spend time with your savior, gaze into his eyes, and allow him to grow the seeds of your heart. He has given you the mission to walk with the weak, to stand in the midst of fear, to look into the eyes of the suffering, to show humility in the face of humiliation, and to be beauty in a world of ugly.

As you spend more time with him, pray that the passion he has placed in you will become fierce and unstoppable.

Spend time here, and see what blooms.

Double the Blessing

(I am reposting this because I have noticed that many of you wonderful people who have shared Bethany's button on your blogs have not yet traded it out for the new one.)

For all of my wonderful friends helping me in advocating for dear Bethany to find her family, there has been an exciting update!

Checking in with Reece's Rainbow today, I discovered that Bethany has a beautiful sister named Erin, and Reece's Rainbow is now hoping to find a family for Bethany and Erin, together.



Bethany, born March 2006

This news warms my heart, with the comfort of knowing this sweet girl has family close to her, and there is hope in them being adopted together.

It also makes me sad. Erin is younger than Bethany, and she is in HIV clinical staging 4, which means that her HIV is progressing to full blown AIDS. Bethany is not far behind, at clinical staging of 3. This is all the more reason that these special girls need to go home to their family soon, where they can receive all the medical treatment they need, as well as experience the love that every daughter deserves.

Erin, born December 2006

Love is healing, you know.

Since Bethany and Erin's profile's have now been combined, I have created them a new button!

If you have the old button, you will need to replace it with this button (I mean, who wouldn't want this cuteness on their blog anyways, right?) But really, the old button has the previous link, and will lead to "page not found". So please, I would be so grateful if you would add this new button to all your wonderful blogs, and help me find a family for these sweet sisters.

<br /> <a border="0" href="http://reecesrainbow.org/29761/erin-and-bethany" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1178.photobucket.com/albums/x376/shebecomes/BethanyandErinButton5.jpg "/></a>

Thanks friends!

God Bless,

Still

Over the last fifteen or so years there is a scene that has repeatedly played in my mind. A young woman is in the ocean, completely underwater. Although I am watching the scene unfold, the young woman is me. I  have seaweed wrapped around my ankle. In an attempt to break free, I begin twisting and turning, kicking and wrestling, until eventually I am completely entangled in the seaweed, drowning as it is holding me beneath the surface. Just as it seems that I have lost the battle, in exhaustion I am quiet just long enough to hear a voice say, "Let go."

As I stop struggling, the current of the water loosens the seaweed, and I am freed.

Last year at this time I was here:

In Beautiful Zimbabwe

At one time not so long ago, I thought this would be my home. I gave up so much to be here. But four months after my move, four months after giving up my career, relationships, and leaving my family, and after four months of being chewed up, Zimbabwe (i.e. Mugabe's government) spit me out.

I spent many months twisting and turning and getting tangled up in worry about how and why I left. I was not given a choice, but I couldn't help but question if I fought hard enough to stay.  And I couldn't help but wonder if my little ones felt abandoned (again).

Then last year at this time God blessed me with the chance to go back. With my return I was not sure what I would find. I was not sure why God was allowing me return. Was my job not done? Or was this visit to be the closure I needed?

I spent my planned 20 days there, and left with new hopes and new disappointments.

In all honesty, this trip left me twisting and turning and struggling just as before.

I have continued striving to make up for not being there, for plans that were never completed, for change that I couldn't bring. In the last year I have made many personal investments of time and money in an attempt to pay off my "debt" of unfulfilled promises. They were good investments for good causes, but they have made no change in how I feel.

Classrooms built in the Binga Villages

The problem with these investments is that they have been made in my own attempt to "make things right." And the problem with my actions is that for awhile I thought I could actually accomplish something through my own power.

Recently I was having a heart-to-heart with my mentor about how I am just so confused and stuck, not sure where God wants me. And Zimbabwe and my involvement there continues to be the biggest weight, lying heavily on my chest, making it hard to breathe or think clearly. In regards to my present and future I keep asking God "what" and "where" and "who." Then she gently gave me the spiritual equivalent of a good woopin', and she asked me how much I am actually still before God.

Still.

Not asking or wanting or whining. Not twisting or turning or wrestling.

Just still. 

My answer...well, it didn't really come out in words, it came out in tears.

That conversation was a month ago. I have stopped focusing on getting an answer, but have started focusing on being in a relationship with the Lord where I can hear His voice. I am learning to quiet myself so I am able to hear him however he chooses to speak, even if it is as small as a gentle whisper.

He has not given me any huge revelations as of yet, but there is one thing I have heard him speak clearly to my heart.

Two simple words:

"Let Go."

And just like that, in God's simple yet inexplicable way, he has taken my yoke upon him, and I can breathe.

Cracking Open Steel Doors

Many of you who have been around here for awhile know that I really have a heart for the persecuted church. From researching more about the persecuted church, I have learned that the number one country where it is the hardest to be a Christian, and the hardest to share the gospel, is North Korea.

Even apart from religion, North Koreans are a very controlled, manipulated, and stifled people. God broke my heart for this country last year when I attended a Voice of the Martyrs conference and was able to hear more inside information about what goes on inside the country's borders. If you would like to read some basic information about North Korea, its religion, leadership, and the persecution of Christians, I wrote a post about it here.

Having said all this, I write this to say that today it was announced that Kim Jong-il died on Saturday from a heart attack.

Kim Jong-il has been the leader of North Korea since his father passed away in 1994, and continued in the example of his father's strong hand over the people. You can read more about his death here.

I wanted to share this with you all, because this is a big deal. Kim Jong-il chose his third son, Kim Jong-un, to be his successor. His son has been raised with the same ideals as his father, and his father before him. But with the change of leadership, I ask that we, as the church, pray. Pray for this new leader's heart. That it will be softened for his people, and that it would be opened to new ideas, and ultimately the love of Christ.

So many dictators and communist leaders have been removed and/or died recently, and in a way I feel like the doors of hope and opportunity are being cracked open. We can't physically go and break down the heavy steel doors of corruption and oppression in these places, but we can join the battle spiritually.

"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand." Ephesians 6:12-13

So, my friends, let's pray.

The Things We Can't Take With Us

The other day, while standing in a long line, I watched a little girl in front of me transform from a sweet and joyful daughter to a product of our ugly materialistic society. One moment she was talking and giggling with her mom, and the next she was threatening to bite, scream, and kick if she did not get the toy she wanted. The event concluded with a "compromise"...the mother bought the toy, but the daughter would get it in her stocking on Christmas.

This situation is in no way uncommon. Especially during this season of more, more, more. But somehow it still deeply saddens me.

I feel sad for these children who are being deceived into believing that these earthly and temporary things will somehow make them happy or keep them happy.

For Christ to leave his heavenly throne and be born into this dirty ugly world, it took heapings of humility, to say the least. And he did not come rich or attractive or with status. He came humbly, in every sense of the word.

Yet somehow we have made this holiday about status, money, and us. We can be truly arrogant, ignorant, ugly beings.

Yet He came to save us.

One of my favorite scriptures is Matthew 6:19-21:

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal...

So, this Christmas season, let us focus less on those things we can't take with us, the temporary happy. Let us instead find our treasure in the only One who can bring true and everlasting joy.

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

The Day of Small Things

*Over Thanksgiving week I ran next door to my neighbor's house each day to feed and pet their kitty cat. No big deal. Then yesterday they surprised me with a "Thank You" card and gift card to Target. I spent the evening debating if I would use the card on some boring necessities, or put the money towards a much needed, new, and bit more exciting jacket. I really weighed my options, and decided my 10-year-old jacket would be more than adequate for another year.

Then, this morning my coworker and friend, who recently blessed me with some gently-used, much-needed, new-to-me jeans, gave me this:

a beautiful, warm, wonderful coat. She said it's been hanging in her closet, rarely worn. She felt it was being wasted, just sitting there taking up space. I promise you, I have dreamed of this exact coat. It's red.  And it will forever remind me of how He provides: How He loves. So thankful.

*Last night I rolled change I have been saving for my Haiti and/or Bangladesh fund. Mere change that clutters ash trays, pennies that people toss aside on the sidewalks, coins that fall forgotton between the couch cushions. And guess what, my friends? Two hundred and seventy-two dollars. That's $272 closer to hugging one of my babies young men.



                                 



*Then, to top it all off, today my friend Sarah posted this:

Sarah traveled to Haiti last month with Compassion, and I was able to send along some cards with photos and stickers to be given to unsponsored children. This sweetie pie got one of my cards, and I love her :) This picture is like a hug from Haiti.

Tonight I sit here, feeling so very loved. Thankful for the things that the world may see as small, but are so very big.

How have you experienced the Father's love lately?

Accidental Latitude

A year and a half ago my grandma was diagnosed with breast cancer. She had surgery, and it was discovered that the cancer had spread to several lymph nodes. The prognosis was not good. We thought that she would be celebrating her next Christmas face to face with Jesus.

Now here we are, coming up on her second Christmas since then, and as far as they can tell she is cancer free.

Soon after surgery my grandma received some of the best cancer treatment possible, including some of the newest medications. In fact, studies are being done on her because when you factor in her age and prognosis, her life is nothing short of a miracle. (But really, is any life short of a miracle? )

Along with the medical professionals, family stepped in. My mom did some research, and created a daily "smoothie" for her which consists of every single immunity-boosting, cancer-fighting fruit and vegetable on planet Earth.  These physical factors, along with being completely surrounded in prayer, have healed my grandma.

We are humbled and so very very thankful that God has allowed us to spend more time with her here in this temporary home in these temporary bodies.

But today I realized how much I take this for granted.

Today I received a letter from my Compassion daughter, Ruth, in Uganda. She is 19 and lives in a very rural area. She has never been to a city. Her family's average income is $8...a year.

Ruth is a prayer warrior, and has been on her knees for my grandma. In the letter I recieved today she told me that breast cancer is prevalent in her community as well as the surrounding villages.

What she told me next was the most awakening.

When women in her village are diagnosed with breast cancer, "they cut off their breasts and pray."

She went on to tell me that for this very reason we must be prepared every day to go onto our heavenly home, because there is nothing more we can do.

First, I must point out that in many ways she is right. We should be prepared for death at every moment. We are human, and God is God, and He can take us home whenever he wants, and no doctor can stop him.

But, God has given us a world full of potential cures and the intelligence to use them.

The only problem is that there are still so many who, simply because of their location or income, cannot access these wonders.

At times it feels as though the gap is closing. But then I realize that there are those of us who live in a country where, even if you don't have a penny to your name, you can benefit from most modern and life saving discoveries. And at the very same time, in the very same world, people are dying of diarrhea.

There are people in our world who take rocket ships to space and walk on the moon, and in the very same world people walk for days in order to reach the most basic medical care.

I have now walked through cancer with my stepmom and both of my grandmas. Two out of three of them conquered the disease, but all three of them were given the chance.

A chance that millions of people around the world are still not given, even today.

It's just another thing that breaks my heart, and another thing that I cannot fix.

But I can help. We can help.

In 2009 my Compassion daughter, Dilsly, had surgery to remove a lump in her breast. Her mother died of breast cancer when she was not much older than Dilsly, so immediate action was taken thanks to regular exams. None of this would have been possible if Dilsly was not part of Compassion's program. Dilsly could easily have been one of the many who are so close, but are unable to cross the barrier of poverty to receive medical care.

But thanks to Compassion, her medical needs are taken care of.

Thanks to Compassion, and other organizations like them, we are given the opportunity to help.

So, thank you, Compassion, for giving children a chance. Thank you for giving us a chance to stand in the gap.

And thank you, Father, that I live in a place where I can access a doctor and medication for something as simple as a cold. Thank you for creating us with the knowledge to create life saving medication. And thank you that I will get to celebrate yet another Christmas with my grandma. May I take not a moment of this for granted.

 

"We can be the generation that no longer accepts that an accident of latitude determines whether a child lives or dies. But will we be that generation?" -Bono

God Bless,

Not Too Late

Last week Mother Nature decided to wipe out several trees and power lines in my neighborhood. Because of this I was unable to check email or wash my hair for a few days. But the worst part was that I missed a very important opportunity to bring awareness to an issue close to my heart.

Thursday, December 1, was World AIDS Day.

I am very excited looking back at blogs from last week to see that so many of you used your voice to speak up about AIDS. I briefly debated if I should still post on this issue, being several days late, but decided that AIDS is something that millions of people live with every day, and today, like every day, another 5,000 people will die from AIDS related causes. Needless to say, it is never too late.

There are many ways that you can join in the battle against this disease, but here are a few of my favorite:
Sponsor a child who lives in an AIDS affected area through Compassion International.
Advocate for or adopt a HIV+ orphan.
Join ONE to stay updated on AIDS initiatives and projects around the world.

And may we never forget to show our love and respect to those infected,

Honor the lives of those taken too soon,

And have compassion for the many left behind.

God Bless,

Bears Beware

I spent Thanksgiving day with my dad.

The last time I saw my dad was shortly after the great bear adventure of 2011.

Naturally, as soon as I walked through the door on Thanksgiving day, my dad handed me a magazine and this (holster included):

The magazine was opened to a four page article about a man who had been attacked by a bear in California.

I read the article and accepted the gift graciously, and understood that in "dad language" he was saying,

"I love you and I do not want you to be mauled to death by a bear."

He also suggested I keep it with me, even in town, as it works on humans just as well.

So, I would like to say a big thank you to my dad in taking a proactive stand in me not being eaten by a bear.

And to all the bears out there:

Beware. It's locked and loaded.