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.

Hope and Mercy in Kijabe Hospital

Our large group of 30-ish was split up into 4 smaller groups and rotated ministry sites throughout the week. I grew amazingly close to everyone on my team, and I miss them so much! Each day was a new adventure, and I can't wait to share every story.

The first day of main ministry was spent at Kijabe Hospital, one of the main hospitals in Kenya. We were greeted by a wonderful woman by the name of Mercy. She is the chaplain of the children's ward, and she shared with us her testimony and passion for Christ.

This woman radiates God's light more than anyone I have ever met. She knows every child and mother in the hospital by name, and she cares deeply for each and every one of them. She takes the time to write each child's name and "Jesus loves you" on a sign above their beds.

We spent the entire morning in the children's ward, going into rooms and praying over mothers and children. It was one of the biggest ministry challenges I've had (up to that point). I pray with friends and family here at home, but I had never prayed in front of strangers before. 

Not only was the stage fright a challenge, but also just witnessing so much illness and pain. These kids were sick. Not just strep throat, go home in an hour, sick. One mother I talked to was sitting with her two-month-old son. They had been in the hospital for one month. Half of his life. I didn't visit with anyone who had been there less than two weeks. The mothers rarely leave their baby's side.

It's hard to describe exactly what we saw there. I didn't take pictures of patients, of course. I'm a missionary - not a tourist. There were children with enlarged heads, deformed limbs, terrifying coughs. Mothers who had lost almost all hope. They begged me to pray for their kids. I got over my stage fright pretty fast. These families needed prayer more than I needed to stay comfortable.

A new team visited the hospital every day that week. By the end of it, Mercy was overjoyed to report that no children had died - usually they had three or four deaths each week. Miraculous healings had occurred. Enlarged heads shrunk back to normal size, a woman who came in the morning unable to use her legs walked home that night, the blind saw. God moved.

This was just the first step in the amazing journey of Kenya. Each day, God would prepare us for what was to come in the next. I would have never imagined anything we saw that week. I went on this trip with no expectations - and God still blew me out of the water.

Typical, Atypical Life

Honestly, I don't even know where to begin.

So much more happened in one week in Kenya than a year in the States, yet it's almost impossible to write about.

I guess I'll start with what our "everyday" lives were like. We stayed in a motel in Maai Mahiu - a place rampant with alcoholism, drug abuse, prostitution, and fear.

  

We were blessed enough to have running water, though the shower was less than ideal. Freezing one minute, boiling the next. The motel staff was amazing, ready to serve whatever we needed. We ate several variations of rice and beans, accompanied by chicken or beef or fish. Chapati was everyone's favorite. It's a kind of flat bread that's absolutely delicious.

 

The best part (aside from our ministry, of course) was worship and teachings every night. We had church in the motel bar every evening. One person brought a guitar, and we learned the songs as we went along. There was a mosque located right across the street, and we could hear their prayers happening at the same time as ours.

God was very real in this place, and he showed himself multiple times. Sins were forgiven, souls were remade, truth was revealed. On the last night, even miraculous healings occurred right before our eyes. Who knew such amazing things could happen in a bar in the the worst place in Kenya?

You don't need a million dollar establishment to worship. You don't need fancy projectors or speakers or even instruments.

All you need is a group of believers. And one bold voice to get started.

James 5, The Prayer of Faith

James 5:13-20

The Prayer of Faith

Is any one of you in trouble? He should pray. Is anyone happy? Let him sing songs of praise. Is any one of you sick? He should call the elders of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgive. Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.

Elijah was a man just like us. He prayed earnestly that it would not rain, and it did not rain on the land for three and a half years. Again he prayed, and the heavens gave rain, and the earth produced its crops.

My brothers, if one of you should ever wander from the truth and someone should bring him back, remember this: Whoever turns a sinner from the error of his way will save him from death and cover over a multitude of sins.

I'm still working on my prayer skills. I grew up praying constantly, especially with my mother. She still calls me her "prayer partner," and calls me when there something or someone we need to pray for. A lot of those prayers weren't so full of faith on my end, though. They became redundant and almost meaningless. I've gotten better at it, though. I don't pray as often now, but I know my prayers are full of faith and that I'm talking to God.

There are other ways I communicate with him too - through my music especially. I see that as a form of prayer as well. I hear his voice and see his glory. There are so many ways I connect my music to my faith, and I will have to make another post about that later.

James 5, Patience in Suffering

James 5:7-12

Patience in Suffering

Be patient, then, brothers, until the Lord's coming. See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its valuable crop and how patient he is for the autumn and spring rains. You too, be patient and stand firm, because the Lord's coming is near. Don't grumble against each other, brothers, or you will be judged. The Judge is standing at the door!

Brothers, as an example of patience in the face of suffering, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord. As you know, we consider blessed those who have persevered. You have heard of Job's perseverance and have seen what the Lord finally brought about. The Lord is full of compassion and mercy.

Above all, my brothers, do not swear - not by heaven or by earth or by anything else. Let your "Yes" be yes, and your "No," no, or you will be condemned.

Honestly, I think I only worry about the Lord's coming when I read verses like these. Otherwise, I don't think about it much. I do what the Bible tells me, and I try to love and respect everyone equally. I know he is coming, though, and I know I will go to join him. I don't obey God's commandments only to get to Heaven, but because it's the right thing to do. 

The verses about grumbling against each other sometimes hit home, too. I am definitely getting better about that, but there are days I still slip up. I'm working on taking more responsibility for my words and actions, and having a more positive attitude towards others.