Generation of World Changers

In the decades following Jesus' time on earth, Paul wrote the following words to the church in Corinth:

Though I am free and belong to no man, I make myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible... To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God's law but am under Christ's law), so as to win those not having the law. To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings. 

1 Corinthians 9:19-23

This summer I am living in a 3-bedroom house with 21 18-22-year-olds (plus one 25-year-old), and it has been quite the adventure. Naturally, we share qualities with your typical college kids. We listen to everything from rap to country. We have crazy dance parties. We are addicted to technology and social media. We love pizza. We have celebrity (and real-life) crushes. And we love just hanging out and having a good time. 

Though we come from all over the United States and Canada with different backgrounds and stories, I have realized, through sharing testimonies each night, that we are all very similar.

We have all struggled with varying degrees of lust, depression, anxiety, suicide, self-harm, abuse, alcohol, drugs, pornography, perfectionism, brokenness, and loss. We have all felt inadequate and unworthy. 

We are all real. 

And we all know we have been made clean by our Savior, Jesus Christ. We worship with our whole hearts at the top of our lungs, singing praises to our Redeemer. We pray with earnest and thanksgiving. We throw everything we are into our ministries each day. We know God because he brought us out of our darkest moments, and we desire to share his love with each other and everyone we meet. 

We are young. We are far from perfect. We stumble and fall. We argue with one another and with God. Our journeys with The Lord are still only beginning. 

If Paul were writing letters today, he might say something like, "To the college students addicted to Facebook and cellphones, I became like one addicted to Facebook and cellphones, so as to win those addicted to Facebook and cellphones."

Or maybe, "To the unknowingly beautiful girl who throws up after every meal, I became like the unknowingly beautiful who throw up after every meal, so as to win her over."

"To the young man secretly watching graphic videos on the Internet, I became like one who watches graphic videos, so as to win him over."

"To the girl who has panic attacks and cuts her arms behind closed doors, I became like those who are lonely and depressed, so as to win them over."

"To the 18-22-year-olds who take everything for granted, I became like one who takes everything for granted (though I myself do not take everything for granted), so as to win those who take everything for granted. 

I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. 

The difference between us and Paul is that we don't have to become these things - we are these things. 

We are real. We are relatable. We are remade. We are world changers. 

We lack the holier-than-thou God Complex, because our salvation is fresh and we are still licking our wounds. We still feel inadequate. We still stumble. 

But we have a Savior who charged us with a mission: to go and make disciples of all nations. 

That includes our campuses. That includes our families. That includes our roommates. That includes our generation consumed by laziness, apathy, and selfishness. 

Yes, I have screwed up. Big time. Multiple times. But God is using my story to impact the lives of others, so they might come to know him. 

How is God using your story?

Jesus Loves the Little Children

Something that has been prominent on my heart this week is Genesis 1:27 - "So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them."

In my previous mission trips to Africa, I was never much of a baby-holder. I always connected more with the older, teenage girls and shared life with them.

Almost every day this week, God placed a baby girl in my arms. My ministry team is working with AIM administration, going to all the different care points around Manzini and collecting information for the children's profiles. Each care point has a slightly different dynamic, atmosphere, and SES situation. Wednesday, we were at a care point with very excited, loving, financially poor kids. They all grabbed our hands and begged for our love and attention. All except one.

She couldn't have been more than two years old, and she didn't talk at all. She wore a dirty pink track suit with tons of holes in it. No shoes. She stood by herself and kept looking to the left...not at anything specific, just to the left. She didn't react or anything when I walked up to her, so I picked her up. She was a rag doll. She didn't move on her own at all. I just held on to her and sang to her. She didn't fuss or look at me or anything. She fell asleep in my arms, and a woman took her from me to lay her down inside. An hour later, she woke up, and it was the same story. Looking to the left, rag doll. She did eventually look at me, but it wasn't for very long. Her breathing was raspy, like she needed to cough, but couldn't.

As I held this poor, sick child (I never found out her name), I kept thinking back to Genesis.

This beautiful child was God's image.

I was literally holding a tiny personification of The Lord.

A daughter to the King.

Mind. Blown.

At our Thursday care point, the congregation of children blessed us by singing:

 Jesus loves the little children
All the children of the world
Red and yellow, black and white
They are precious in his sight
Jesus loves the little children of the world

  Hearing this simple song out of the Swazi children's mouths was absolutely beautiful. They reminded me that the same Maker who created them also created me, and we are all tiny personifications of our Father. We are all wonderfully and fearfully made in his image.

Mind. Blown.

Swazi week 1!

Sawubona from Manzini!

My team of 34 college students from all over the US and Canada arrived safely in Swaziland on Monday afternoon. It has been a glorious couple of days, and I'm so blessed to be here. 

Our team has been split into two separate teams, and I am living in a 3-bedroom, 1-bathroom house with 22 other teammates. I share a bedroom with 10 girls. We have limited running water and no working toilet. Squatty potties and bucket showers authenticate my African summer. 

We have been acclimating ourselves to the beautiful Swazi culture, and tomorrow marks our first day of ministry. Locations haven't been assigned yet, but I will likely be working in the AIM office assisting the staff. I am so excited to see what God has for me here. 

Saturdays will be our day off each week, which will likely be when blog posts and emails happen. We don't have Internet at the homestead, so wifi access requires a trip to the mall or local Internet cafe. 

I love you all!

Some Thoughts on Valentine's Day

I'm going to preface this post by saying that I am almost 21 years old, I've had three boyfriends, and I've been single for four and a half years. I've never spent Valentine's Day with a boyfriend.

I've had a relationship that ended poorly and skewed my view of romance and how men should treat women.

I attend a campus ministry called Vintage Faith Students. It is a part of the church I also regularly attend, Vintage Faith. It is a loving community that I am so blessed to be a part of. We meet Thursday nights for student-led worship and ministry. Last night had a twist, however. We all dressed fancy, and the boys cooked dinner for the ladies. Nothing is better than mac-and-cheese and potatoes made by a group of college guys. After dinner, the boys performed some worship songs for us, some Mumford and Sons, and presented a video they made about how much they appreciate the women of our church. The evening also included dance lessons and epic poetry readings. It was definitely a night to remember and cherish.

It was so foreign, yet glorious to me to be treated and appreciated this way by a group of young men. Yeah, I have (probably  more than) my fair share of guy friends, but this was so much more than just being another one of the "bros." I am so thankful for all of the men in my life, and I know God brought them all to me for a reason.

However, on a more serious note, being surrounded by such genuine love made me think of women who don't know what that is. Women around the world who are sold into human trafficking. Women left by the husbands, fathers, brothers. Women who have experienced abuse. Women who don't know Jesus. Women who don't know their value. Women who don't know they are loved. I am praying for these women. Maybe you're one of them. I am praying for you.

This is the first Valentine's Day that I'm content. I appreciate every individual God has placed in my life, and I try to make sure they know that too. This isn't a day only for couples. This is a day for EVERYONE. Yes, even you. It is a day of love, not hate. After all...

We love, because He first loved us.
1 John 4:19

Happy Valentine's Day, friend.

I have not come to call the righteous....

Mark 2:15-17
While Jesus was having dinner at Levi's house, many tax collectors and sinners were eating with him and his disciples, for there were many who followed him. When the teachers of the law who were Pharisees saw him eating with the sinners and tax collectors, they asked his disciples: "Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?"
On hearing this, Jesus said to them, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners."

It has been nearly four months since my last post (whoops), and for the past week I've been seeing several blogs write about New Year beginnings and whatnot. I had tossed the idea around about writing a New Year post, and upon reading this passage in my devotion today, I decided it was time.

Jesus' words here affect me from two different angles.

1. I am called, even though I am a sinner.

I am far from perfect. I acknowledge that every day. In my almost 21 years on this earth, I have screwed up big time, multiple times. I still feel guilty about certain parts of my past, even though I know I am forgiven. I often don't feel worthy of God's love and forgiveness. His words here remind me that it's okay that I'm not perfect. He doesn't call the "perfect" people (as if they exist anyway). It's okay that I mess up, as long as I repent, because he is preparing me to relate to people who feel the same way I do - that they don't deserve God's love.

2. We all need God.

This is where my New Year thoughts began to kick in. Who is that person you would not take to church? We all have that one. At least one. Maybe they're an alcoholic family member or that outspoken nonbeliever at school/work or maybe they're just a crude friend. We'd be embarrassed to be seen with them at church. We don't want to initiate that conversation with them in the first place. We don't want to offend anyone. Deep down, we don't think they deserve God's grace. I know I'm guilty of these thoughts.

Truth is, I'm just as much of a sinner as the meth addict living in a cardboard box down the street. And he needs God just as much as I do. The question is - are we willing to give it to him? Are we willing to show him love and invite him into an environment where he can learn about grace?

That should be our challenge for 2014. Invite that one person to church. Or to small group. Or even into our home for a meal. You know who that person is. Invite them in.

Prayers for Kenyan Tragedy

I don't even know where to begin.

I received an email from my mom this morning mentioning a terrorist attack in Nairobi. I checked CNN immediately, and there was a reported 30 dead, 60 injured, and 36 held hostage after a shooting in a mall.

The attack was lead by Al-Shabaab, an al Qaeda-linked militant group based in Somalia. Sources say all Muslims were escorted from the mall before the attack began, so they were unharmed. The final reports count 39 dead and 293 flown to hospitals. Check out CNN and Reuters articles for more information.

God has always granted me the gift of sympathy, or feeling what others feel. At times it's a blessing - there's nothing better than sharing joys and triumphs with my friends. This time, it's a burden. I see the photos posted online, and I feel the pain. I see the bodies and scared faces of children, and all I can picture are my friends who live only a few hours away from the attack.

I know the pain I'm feeling is only a small fraction of what our Father feels for his children who must join his kingdom too soon.

My heart goes out to the families affected by this tragedy.

I pray for healing for the injured. I pray for strength and wisdom for the doctors.

I pray for the gunmen. I pray that God reveals himself to them and they turn to Christ.

I pray that the faith of the survivors and families remains strong. I pray they grow closwer to Christ. I pray that their stories bring others to Christ.

I still have tales to tell from my own trip this summer, but I feel this takes priority. I thank God that non of my Kenyan friends were in Nairobi yesterday, and that no more than 39 were taken from their families.

Even in the darkness, we musten't forget to give thanks and praise.

Miracles Still Happen

Oh golly. It's been almost a month since my last post. Yikes!

But of course, I'm still missing Africa every single day. And I still have so many stories to tell.

So one of the main lessons I learned in Kenya this summer was about prayer. I've always been a huge believer and supporter of prayer. My family prayed before meals and bedtime growing up. I still pray with friends and roommates before most meals. My mom has always called me her "prayer partner," and she'll call me up every once in a while and ask me to pray for someone in the family.

But prayer didn't become real to me until Kenya. We visited a nearby village, Turkana. The people there were so eager to talk about faith and God. It was refreshing. Our team leader told us about a man, James, who had quite a dilemma. For several weeks, every time James would enter his home, he was overcome by great pain. He had to sleep outside because of it, which was extremely dangerous. His family was so scared for him.

When we met James, he took us into his home. Even though we spoke different languages, it was obvious the pain was real. He could barely lift his arms. His eyes were cloudy and almost in tears. We had to physically help him walk across the tiny room. It was the most bizarre, heartbreaking thing I had ever witnessed.

So, we helped James to the middle of the room. And we prayed. And we prayed.

"Again, truly I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything they ask for, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them."
Matthew 18:19-20

Finally, we stopped. We looked up at James, and he was sitting deathly still. My initial thought was, "Oh God, we killed him!" But then he lifted his head, and his eyes sparkled. He stood up and shook out both his feet. He marched around the room. He raised his arms above his head. We all praised God.

I can't even begin to tell you what kind of influence that had on my prayer life. Miracles like that happened every day while we were in Kenya, and I know they happen here. God even healed me from a terrible headache during band camp after a few minutes of prayer.

Miracles still happen. Every day. God didn't stop working after the New Testament. He's still alive, and he's still working in our world every day. We just need to call on him, and to believe.