Moving forward for the stuck ones...

I've spent a lot of years of my life stuck. Stuck in regret, in the past, in fear, stuck in what if's, should haves and why didn't I's. These thoughts are all just as fruitless as you imagine them to be. Some folks live with the motto of no regrets. I tried that for 3 hours one day. Honestly, I'm so bad at it that I was regretting choosing chicken salad instead of tortilla soup for lunch.

I've recently realized perhaps I might not have a problem with stuckness. I might have a problem with decisions. There is quote which says that decision making is the cutting away of one choice in favor of another.

Cutting away. Such a painful sounding phrase. And frightening.

I've known for most of my life I'm bad at making choices. I like to mull and research and get opinions and and

never actually make a decision.

Because I am TERRIFIED of making the wrong decision.

I've made a few bad life-changing decisions in my life. Yes, I know that God redeems and He turns all things to the good of those who love Him. But there is also the reaping of what we sow...with His infinite mercy and grace to temper the consequences, hopefully.

I've reaped what I've sown and it has been painful. Not as painful as it could have been without God's mercy, but still. Most of my life, I've held to the idea that a decision not made is better than one chosen badly.

(Yes, I do drive some people mad because of this. But. But..
I am an excellent sounding board and promise to explore all the possibilities of choice someone might be facing.)

However, I am further realizing this issue of non decision making is really one of trust. I don't trust that I know myself well enough to make the right decision. What is the right decision, you ask?

I honestly have not known the answer to that for most of my life. I do now though.

The right decision is the right decision for me.

For me.

If this sounds selfish, bear with me...I'll elaborate in a moment.

But concerning the "who" of my decision making process- Who else could make a better decision for me THAN me? Who knows me better than me??

No one.

Well, no one on Earth.

God knows me. Better than I've figured myself out. So I will trust His input.

Back to the selfish...

I choose to trust the good parts of me- the redeemed parts which are already seated with the Father in heaven...already Complete. My soul. My spirit. That which is one with Christ.

THAT part of me isn't confused. It's eternal and has the wisdom of God within. It makes good decisions- for me and those I love.

When I make decisions out of my perspective as an inhabitant of this earth...my fleshly, bodily, decaying and dying as we speak, experience...then I might not make the right decisions. I might perhaps choose what feels good in the moment, what is temporary and what is dying along with this earth and my experience in it.

So, to get unstuck, I have to remember two things;

1. I have to remember my identity...not as Valerie- mother, writer, etc.- but as daughter of God. I have a tagline I use a lot, that I am a writer, unfinished. This actually isn't true. I am finished. I am just still journeying along the way. The process.

2. I have to choose. Cut away. I must let go of the fear and just decide. Are there truly unredeemable decisions? Sure. But I won't make them if I am grounded in number one. I still might choose badly. But it won't need to define me. Because God does redeem and make all things new. Trust Him and trust Him inside of me.

Peace.

The New.ish.

Happy 2018!

Since it is January 11th, this is the New-ish Year's post. Don't ask why this post is so late and I won't ask about your resolutions. Deal?

2017 was hard for so many of us. I've tried for the past several years to contemplate the ending year as the next approaches.

This year God let me journal about 2017 beside the ocean. Because He loves me so so much.

It was chilly and windy and my bare feet were a declaration of defiance against the South Georgia December temperatures. It was such a blessed day though.

People approach the new year in many ways- special words for the year, diets, resolutions, etc. I read two things online which I found to be helpful, transitioning into 2018. The first is by a dear former Pastor of ours, Chris Goins:
How to make a frest START in 2018

The second is on a website for simplified living- No Sidebar. This is a good article for contemplating 2017 and moving forward:
End Your Year Intentionally with These Ten Questions

With prayer and contemplation, I have a plan for 2018:

1. I've chosen two words to focus on this year. Picking a word (or two) as your "Mantra" for the year can focus your decisions, time and actions in the direction you wish to head.   

2. I'm doing a 21 Day Prayer and Fast. I can't put into words how powerful and life-changing a long fast can be. God has met impossible needs for years now when I have fasted and prayed. I would encourage you to consider this spiritual practice if you haven't yet.

3.  I'm facing the hard things this year. I have three things I've been putting off for a very long time because of fear. Are you like me? These incredible words by Kevin Kaiser, former editor to Ted Dekker, are some of the best I've read about this:

"You must decide. You must choose. Decision is the cutting off of all escape routes and committing to a singular path. And aren't all things except the one path we already know we must take simply that- escape routes?

All of your distractions and procrastinations do nothing more than delay the inevitable choice you already know you must take. All of us already know what we must do. We get into trouble when we replace our MUST's with feeble should's.

'I should do this or that. I should be like this or that. ' 

Don't should on yourself, I once heard someone say. Unless something becomes a MUST for you- something you can't NOT do- you won't do it. You'll never commit. 

So where to start? The most reliable sign of what you must do is that which you most want to avoid. Resistance points the way to what you want. 

The only force holding you back is fear of loss. You're afraid to lose the comfort of the familiar. You're afraid to discover the voices in your head are right and you don't really have what it takes. You're afraid of what lies beyond the comfort zones that keep your life smaller than you want.

I know because you and I are the same. That's my struggle too. But what's on the other side of fear?

Nothing. 

Nothing but open range and endless skies. Though you look for it, the loss you fear is not there. 

The only way to the next level is beyond the wall. You already have everything you need to get there. Right now.

You already know what you need to do. 

So do it."

I would add:

"There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear." I John 4:18 ESV

God is on both sides of the fear and He's orchestrated that open range and endless skies for you and for me. He never leaves or forsakes. Never. He's waiting. Take His hand. 

4. I'm reclaiming dreams and joy. Our family is currently facing tough things- maybe the most difficult of all the years. I'm not ignorant or in denial of what's ahead. But there comes a time you must confess that God is good and heals and restores and sets free and delivers and makes all things new. Your faith speaks it when you do not feel it or see it. 

I'm confessing. 

Dreams in our hearts and joy in our souls for 2018.

I'll end this with a song that's very special to me. The last time the girls and I saw Cory Asbury live, right before he signed with Bethel, was in January 2016 in Denver. He sang this and God prompted me right then to pull out my journal and write down the bridge to the song- 

"Even in the battle You are with me, I will not be broken in the fight...

You will go before me and behind me, You'll never let me go." 

I wrote the words in dread, honestly. Because there wasn't a battle in sight at that time. But God knew what was coming and He was preparing my heart. The battle came alright, and He was faithful to that promise. Whatever 2018 holds for you, I hope this song will give you hope and peace. He won't let go. 

Thanks for reading. 

Faithful Fridays.

I'm taking a cue from Donald Miller this morning- He wrote this- "You Don't Have to Make Your Bed to Write Your Book."

Clearly, I agree today:

Exhibit A

(Don't judge the dinosaur- that's Flynn. I'll tell about him another day...)

Back to the bigger point- Donald Miller doesn't care what our beds look like. His wise perspective is to not let the daily grind pull you away from your calling. The dishes...unmade bed...and for me and my job, the unshelved library books...will always be there. Tend to your calling. Go read the article after you finish here- it's good.

So I am writing this morning. Even though there is homework, cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, errands...and clearly, unmade beds...which need my attention. Because I must tell you what's burning on my heart this morning:  

I am nearly struck dumb by God's faithfulness. His provision, answered prayers, protection, guidance...it is all too beautiful and real for my heart to contain today. My words are pitiful and disjointed, they can't contain His greatness.  

So I'm starting a new post series on here- Faithful Fridays. Each week I'm going to share some way in which God has answered a prayer, provided for us, or just sent encouragement along the journey. Friday is a good day to share joy in how we've made it through the week, yes?

This is important. Pay close attention to this next part..

If you are believing for the impossible right now- take heart and believe. Let this series encourage you. He does the impossible.

Still.Today.

Right this moment He is working and orchestrating on your behalf. Waiting is the hard part. But wait and believe. I will believe with you. I hope this space will grow to not only share my stories, but yours as well.   

Let's do this.

Since my facebook memories reminded me of Jon Egan this morning, let's start with a song...

This song is kind of the anthem for our family. We were lucky enough to be in that room when this was filmed at Desperation Conference in 2014. It was just as powerful and beautiful as it appears. And true. 

Six months later, Onnie was doing worship for youth group at Denver United when she heard God speak to her heart: 

"Go to Lebanon." 

Thunder, lightning bolts, flames engulfing the room!

Actually, that wasn't exactly the way it went. 

Here's what really happened:

Onnie looked down at her feet and heard God saying to her she was going to wear those shoes in Lebanon. They were the gold Birkenstock sandals she would always wear with colorful knee socks...you all remember the socks and sandals trend my girls started. And still wear. I would apologize to all of you for that horrendous trend, but it's kind of awesome. I digress...

She actually sent a picture of those shoes with her support letters, sharing what God had said to her.

She also heard this song in her heart: 

"Where there is no way You make a way. When no one else can reach us, You find us."

There were no resources to send her on a mission trip at that time. Ron and I had been separated for a year at that point, and our family was struggling financially in ways that are almost embarrassing now. (Ask us about our trash stories sometime.) Also, she was only 17- not even technically old enough to go on the trip without a family member. 

But she knew God had called her. And she had the faith to believe He would provide. We stood with her in faith. On the hard days. There were a lot of those. She was $1000 short on her airfare the week before the deadline. God moved on an anonymous church member's heart at DU and they gave, just days before it was due. Our family and friends supported her- even those who aren't believers. 

Did you catch that? 

Our loved ones who don't believe in God supported Onnie's trip because they love her and believe in her. They didn't understand why she would go to the Middle East, especially as a 17 year old. The Syrian refugee crisis wasn't at the forefront of the news then. But they understood what's traditionally been known of the region- it can be dangerous.  

And the question I got the most:

"How can you let your daughter go there?!?!?"  

Well, you see, I did research. I weighed pros and cons. But in the end, I'm a faith girl. God told her she was going. I BELIEVED God told her that. Who was I to argue her safety with the Creator of the Heavens? Honestly. I knew if God called her then He would protect her.  

She went.  And He did.  

That last picture is the morning she got back home to Denver. She'd been awake for 24 hours at that point. Exhausted. But can you see her joy? 

He is faithful.  

Peace, readers. 

It's the end of the crap as I've known it...

It's been quite a while since I've written.  New Year's of 2016, to be exact.  I've started four seven blog posts since then and written a little on that November novel.  Lots of school papers, too. But for the most part, there's been no time or space to write.

In moving to Virginia, we briefly lost everything.

Lost is such a dramatic word, I know. You all have my permission to roll your eyes in dramatic teenage fashion at the drama of my word choices. I suppose I could find a less angsty word to describe what happened to us since April 2016. There are some good words to be associated with the losing, which I'll share in a bit. But in the beginning, lost describes it best.

Lost: past and past participle of lose.
        1. unable to find one's way; not knowing one's whereabouts.
        2. denoting something that has been taken away or cannot be recovered.

Have you ever felt lost in your life? Here's how it happened to us:

The girls and I were renting a house in Denver which the landlords decided to sell in the booming housing market. Unable to afford rent elsewhere...as the prices of rent are ludicrous in Denver, and will be for a while...we decided to come back home to Salem. It took a lot to get here. Parenting plans, permission, notices at work, logistics, finances, moving truck, storage...and and and. Those were the tangible things and every single one of them were difficult. It was so hard, after coming off of the two previous years of stress, crisis and chaos that I was mentally exhausted by May 31st. I couldn't think clearly about simple things.

But, there were good words to cling to in the moving, so I did. Words like family, support, peace, hope, love, consistency. Rest. If I could just get us here, to this green corner of Virginia, we would be okay.

But the bad words had to be lived through first. Fear, uncertainty, weariness, panic, sadness, regret, confusion, anger.  Lost.

We had a home and then we didn't. Life was hard in Denver and had gotten markedly tougher since January, because the official legal disentangling of my 19 year marriage had begun. But we had a home and friends, a church we adored, school was finally getting better for the girls, and I adored my work at The Challenge School.

Honest- I didn't want to leave.

And yet, my soul longed for some rest. Some freakin peace.

I lost every ounce of security to reach for it. (Dramatic eye roll again. Because it's true. But still dramatic.)

God provided rest. And now, newness. Of course He did. The Maker of the Stars will never ever let us down when we choose to trust like little children. But it didn't happen as soon as our moving truck made it to Virginia. It has taken a whole year, a difficult and long one. However, I needed to learn some important stuff that I just had to live through, discomfort and all.

TWO BIG THINGS:
1. We must actually climb up from the valley to the top of the mountain.
2. Our attitude along the way makes all the difference as to whether we actually make it or not.

“We don’t reach the mountaintop from the mountaintop. We start at the bottom and climb up. Blood is involved.” 
― Cheryl Strayed, Brave Enough

This is the second truest thing I've read outside of the Bible this year. I somehow wrongly believed that Salem was the mountaintop- that we would leave the dry plains of Denver...what a bad metaphor there, sorry friends...and be transported to the mountaintop of Roanoke. That in driving across the country last summer we would metaphorically climb the mountain and all would be Rivendell when we got here.

Truth- That could never be because the things which were keeping us in the valley had to be climbed up and over. Surmounted. Scaled and made victor over.

UNDER OUR FEET.

That isn't easy work at all. Blood is involved. It's not easy even with the best of mindsets starting out. But that's not what we had, not even close.

I'm going to be very honest here.

We had broken. broken broken so very broken BROKEN...can't you see our brokenness, our deer-in-the-headlights trauma, our shock numbness PTSD...why are you wanting us to act and be normal, CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT WE'VE LIVED THROUGH?? kind of

brokenness.

I'm not only referring to the chaos of the move, I'm talking about all the things which took place that I can't talk about. And I suppose that's what made us such freaks. We carried our brokenness on our outsides, like strange costumes, and others could sense it. But we couldn't talk about it. Sometimes we tried. But it was too much and too deep. We all have moments in our lives like that, yes?

So we didn't so much start climbing up the mountainside when we reached Salem as we did grovel around on the ground next to it. Needless to say, not much progress was made.

Let me be clear here- the truth was that things had happened which caused legitimate fracturing inside of us. That is indisputable fact. I'm not going to cover what's taken place in some glossy, "You can have your best day ever", Joel Osteen kind of crap. This is not the kind of brokenness that one positive self-talks their way out of.

But you can die with that kind of attitude. You can sit and stay in that ugly, I DIDN'T DESERVE ANY OF THIS, kind of place...and you can just stay there until your death day.

You see, you have to let go of all of it if you want to live. To move forward, climb that mountain. Here is the beautiful thing-

We have a choice.

We can acknowledge what has happened- no hiding from ourselves or God- and then we can lay it down. Surrender.

You don't have to be broken anymore.

That bears repeating-
YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE BROKEN ANYMORE.

I went up for prayer at our church two Sundays ago. The message had been speaking to me...beating me gently, yet relentlessly...about our suffering, our brokenness. You see I had lived broken for a whole year- well, much longer than that, really- and I was done with it. But I couldn't pull myself out it on my own, I'd tried. I had to surrender the attitude. I did that day.

I finally feel free. But it's more than a feeling- it's truth. The attitude doesn't have me as its slave anymore. More specifically, as I believe, Satan isn't holding me captive in brokenness any longer.

Mountain climbing should be much more efficient now. I am hopeful and joyful...and light...for the first time in a very long time.

There is still some healing that needs to take place. I'm not going to gloss over that part either. I finally understand we can acknowledge the things that have happened to us without staying stuck in them. We must tell the truth- to ourselves and to God, and we have to live out the processes of healing and forgiveness. That's mountain climbing. With a healthy attitude.

This entire post reminded me of one of my favorite books- Hind's Feet on Hind Places.  It's a classic, about a crippled shepherdess named Much Afraid, who travels to the High Places with the Great Shepherd. All allegory, about our lives as we make our way each day through this Earth. I've read it more times than I can count, and its messages have carried me through some tough moments in my life.

(That copy above is 20 years old...THE JARS OF CLAY EDITION, for all you 90s Christian pop culture nerds out there. Go get yourself a copy- I'm sorry yours won't be as cool as mine.)

Thanks as always for listening, dear readers. Peace to you all today.

I dreamed a dream...

Welcome 2016...

I've been sitting here for three solid days...in my brain...trying to figure out what to write about 2015. There's been a war waging inside of me.  Do I write the ugly truth of all I discovered last year? Should I only focus on the good?  There was so much good.  Or can there be a balance of both?

Honestly?  I just want to cry and throw some pics up on here, with some music, and call it good.  I wasn't expecting the tears right now...why the heck am I crying???

Because 2015 was hard.

I just asked Maise, who's sitting on my bed right now, if she could bring me some tissues.  Our conversation:

"Are you crying Mom????" She sounds incredulous.

"Yes."

"Why??"

"I have no idea.  I'm emotional today and I'm trying to sum up our entire last year on my blog."

She laughs.

"Okay Mom."  She gets up.

"Maise, actually just bring me a whole roll of toilet paper...not sure how long this is going to last. Thanks."

She cracks up as she walks in the bathroom.

"I could only find 1/3... no wait, I mean 2/3rds a roll under the counter, Mom.  This is going to have to work."

I laugh.

"Mom. You just wheezed...you sound like that toy from Toy Story." She breaks into very dramatic wheezing sounds.

We laugh and laugh.  Now I'm crying from laughing.

And...just like that, I know now what to write.

Here goes...

In 2015, I dreamed a dream of healing and hope. 

The year started out like this:

This accurately sums up the amount of pain I was carrying at the start of 2015.  That part in the video where she starts gasping for air...around the two minute, forty five second mark...yes, that feeling. When trying to describe my pain to a dear friend earlier this year, I actually played this video.  And my friend understood.  This is hopeless pain.  We've all experienced it at some point in our lives, yes?  

My pain felt extra hopeless because I was viewing it through the unique frames of mindset glasses I disgustingly acknowledge to be 

Victim Mentality Sunglasses.

Ugh.  Yep, I'd been wearing those shades my entire life.  They felt...comfortable...in their hopelessness, honestly.  Their attitude told me that all this pain was someone's else's fault.  I picked up those glasses in childhood and they had served me pretty conveniently at times throughout my life.  

Except

They don't actually help at all.  They tie a person up in the idea that if someone else caused all this pain and misery, then only someone else can fix it. Not me, certainly not me...I can only limp along broken, waiting and hoping for the impossible.  

I'm about to vomit just thinking about how pathetic my victim mentality was.  Ugh.  We all know how gross and small victim mentality makes a person.  

There is some truth in it, though.  Someone DID fix it for me...someone paid for all the injustices.  

(I'm crying again.  Partly because this writing is hard today. I want to, want to quit.  But, also tears for my thankfulness.  So thankful Christ paid my injustices.  A new person, a fresh start...behold, old things have passed away and ALL has become NEW.)

"Oh praise the one who paid my debts and

Raised this life up from the dead."

But all that fresh start in Christ means nothing if my own mindset stops it.  

Lessons learned in 2015:

1. Stop being a victim.  

It was hard.  More difficult than I really care to put into words, so I'm not going to.  But I feel I did the work and broke the evil, death-inducing victim mentality off of me.  Sometimes it creeps back up, because the pain the girls and I have experienced is real and confusing, and sadly it continues to be perpetrated against them.  They are so brave and carry themselves with beautiful, strong dignity.   We fight victim mentality hard in this family...the girls understand it and we fight it together. 

...There are two girls on my bed now.  Ainsley joined Maise and they are talking and laughing and playing music.  I remember when I used to be such a writing diva that I had to have a completely silent environment, which leads me to lesson number two:

2. Work through the noise.

One foot in front of the other, in front of the other, over and over again.  Fall down, get back up...all the pithy, motivational quotes you've heard all your life really do apply. And I want to share my favorite good words, from my amazing former counselor. I say former because I am DONE WITH COUNSELING, since summer, because he feels I have "everything I need, inside of me, to face any situation and build the life that feels right and is healthy for me".  Let me tell you, that makes a girl feel good!  He says:

Take small steps in the direction in which you want to go.  Not big steps, or big decisions, but small ones.  Everyone is capable of small steps and they will get you there quicker than you think.

Yes. 

And finally...

3.  Embrace the joy you find every single day.

We laugh a lot together in this family.  We cry together too...and yell sometimes.  But, oh, we laugh.  To the point of crying, can't breathe, rolling on the ground choking on water, kind of laughing.  

In case you don't believe me:

2015 was tough in ways 2014 wasn't.  But 2015 brought good lessons out of tough personal work and so much grace.  These pictures were all from this year.  I've said before that God brings joy after the mourning. But I believe now that He brings it during the mourning, too.    

Joy is such a gift.  

I dreamed a dream and it came true.  There's work ahead, of course.  Always is.  But we've got what it takes in this little family of Lumsden girls to get it done.  With some help...lots of help...from the Maker of the Stars.

Peace, friends.  

Fighting...becoming...

I am currently participating in NaNoWriMo- National Novel Writing Month.  It is a crazy, worldwide thing in which one commits to writing a 50,000 word novel during the month of November.  I have started this quest the past three Novembers, and have yet to get much beyond day 10.  I am more diligent this year though- I am logging my word count on the NaNoWriMo website and even almost attempted attending a "write in" last night at my local library. 

(I made it to the library and scoped out the very minuscule-y small conference closet in which everyone was gathering.  They were all sitting very close together around an oval table and taking turns telling about their novels.  Every single bit of my introverted personality came rushing to the surface and I almost passed out right on the spot just thinking about walking in that room.  I rushed upstairs to Maise and very forcefully exclaimed there's no way in Hercules' uncle's domain that I'm walking in that room.  She was sad for me until I described it to her...then she shuttered with me.  I walked past again an hour later, taking a coffee break from all the writing I was doing at an upstairs table, and they were still all talking to each other.  I ran.) 

Folks,  the moral...theme... of this part of the post today is:

Introverts unite...in writing your novel alone, while a group of outgoing strangers writes their novels together, one floor below you. 

Seriously.  Yes.  Exactly.

Moving on...

NaNoWriMo is hard.  I'm coming to realize that fiction writing is tough for me.  I think I might suffer from a sufficient lack of imagination.  As much as I love story...and I truly deeply do...I'm not sure I can create it out of thin air.  The words either come too easy and are crap, or they come forth painfully...and still sound like crap.  

But I'm sticking this thing out to the end this time.  I need to finally finish what I've started.  This might be the crappiest 50,000 words to ever be typed, but they are gonna be there.  Formed out of nothing.  

And you know what?  I don't even honestly care that I might not be a fiction writer.  I feel relief at that, actually.  It frees me up to be who I am...a writer.  Yes.  But maybe not a literary made up story writer.  Maybe a truth teller of real life writer. 

I didn't write for almost two years.  I let life knock me to the ground and I stayed there. 

Honest- life is still shoving the air out of my lungs.  Just when I think we've hit solid ground...a stable place...upheaval strikes again.  But I'm gonna write this time.  I have a million excuses why I could stop.  A huge one is the fact that exactly none of the words I'm writing right now count towards the 50K.  Ugh.  The point is it doesn't matter what I write, only that I finish.   

For all you novelists out there, please do not take offense at my words.  You create beautiful stories  and I will consume them gratefully, humbly honoring the fact you can do what I'm realizing I can't. 

Some of the best and most remembered art is created at the low points in our lives.  When we have pain, worry, fear, doubt or loss, the truth that comes out of those moments is as real as we can get.  I'm not sure what perpetually happy people write...probably self-help books for the rest of us.  I'm sure self-help books are important...at least the good ones.  I digress...

I am fighting to become who I am.  Aren't we all fighting to become who we are? 

For me, it is a writer.  NaNoWriMo is for me.  Not for the art, but for the struggle to create it.  In the midst of chaos and discomfort, I will be real and write.  What will you do today to become who you are? 

I'm going to end this post with a song.  It might be completely cheesy and heavy handed, but I must.  I heard this song twice tonight as I was driving home from work and doing that thing in which I flip radio stations incessantly.  And while I know I'm seriously late to the fan club on this song, I adore it.  It is way too pop for my usual tastes, but it resonates in my soul. (Besides, I discovered Mumford and Sons before essentially the rest of the world, so that should last me in cool points for...well, forever.)

I read tonight that the artist of this song wrote it while in a very low place in her music career.  This incredibly strong song came from a place of pain and struggle and confusion.  Fighting.  Becoming.  It paid off.

Peace.  

 

 

On being bravery and light...

This is the most important blog post I will ever write.  You may think that's a lofty sentiment.  I might feel the same if I was sitting in your shoes and seat right now too.  But wait. 

Just wait for it.

My pride and love as a mother are about to burst out of my insides and spill all over in brilliant pools of light.  

My daughters are going on mission trips this summer.  They are leaving this country and time zone and all that is familiar to help people in need around the globe!

Did you catch that last bit about AROUND THE GLOBE??

Yes.  Deep breath.  Maise and Ainsley...15 and 12 respectively...are going to Costa Rica.  And Onnie, 17, is going to Lebanon.  Beirut, to be exact.  

My beautiful and brave girls, full of light and hope, are so excited to share that light and hope with the world. 

(I know you are still holding your breath from reading "Lebanon"...so I will explain some more.  It's okay, you can breathe.  Please breathe.)

Our church, Denver United...660 S Broadway, Denver CO 80209...is sending two teams overseas this summer.  Maise and Ainsley will be traveling with their youth pastor and experienced team leaders to Alajuaelita, Costa Rica, a suburb of San Jose and the poorest county in Costa Rica, per capita.  While there, they will do a VBS for the kids of the area, feed families, help with building projects for the community there, pray with people, and much more.  They will be partnering with 6:8 ministries in country, and this is a return trip to the area for Denver United...a team went there last year too. 

In case you think their trip to Costa Rica sounds like a cushy vacation...because, let's be honest here...the name conjures up lush beaches and jungle and gorgeousness...well, it is a service trip, friends.  In the poorest area of the country in which the unemployment rate is 65% and prostitution is legal and a sad, main form of income for many families.  Their trip is vital in bringing hope to this area of the world. 

Onnie will be traveling with a team to Beirut, where she will also do a VBS for Syrian refugee children.  She will be working with Horizon's International, an organization which has been ministering in the area for many years, was founded by her team leader's father and is currently run by his brother.  

You are still waiting for me to talk about safety, I know you are.  Here we go...you get to hear the coolest story ever...

Onnie and Maise and I got the incredible opportunity and privilege of talking to Ted Dekker and Carl Medearis on Sat night at an event called the Simply Jesus Gathering.  Ted Dekker...New York Times best-selling author...my favorite author...he is about the nicest famous person I've ever met.  I'm not sure he even knows he's famous.  He hugged us all...let me rephrase, he asked if he could hug us and we of course, duh, said YES!... and we chatted. Then Onnie told him about her trip.  

You see, he's a teeny bit familiar with Lebanon...he wrote this book with Carl Medearis called "Tea with Hezbollah" a few years back, in which he and Carl actually did that...went to the Middle East and met scary people.  He's been to Lebanon twice, actually.  He thought Onnie's trip was super cool and he told her to read Tea with Hezbollah...because, it's on our bookshelf already and she hasn't yet. 
 
Then we went to talk to Carl.  He and his family were missionaries in Beirut for 12 years, he is very involved in creating conversation and common ground between Muslims and Christ followers, he takes senators and other Washington people on trips to the Middle East to see another side of the story of humankind, his daughter made a beautiful film called Our Land about the people of the Middle East region and just moved back to Beirut this week...well, I could probably go on and on here...but, needless to say, he knows Lebanon. 

He told Onnie that Beirut is actually safer than the neighborhood we were in that night...downtown Denver.  He wasn't the first person we have heard those words from.  He told her to enjoy her trip, every second of it.  He also asked her age, and when she said 17, he said

"I am proud of you."

So am I, dear readers and friends and family.  More than I can even form into words.  If you're a regular reader of my blog, you know the past several years have been very difficult for our family, especially the past 12 months.  I believe these trips are going to bring healing to my girls, as they step outside all familiar comfort zones and give of themselves.  I am praying and believing for that. 

They have to raise $1600 each for Costa Rica, and $3200 for Lebanon.  Onnie's already halfway to her goal, with the generous help of family, friends and donors from our church.  Maise and Ainsley are honestly sitting on close to zero at the moment, and their first big deadline...plane ticket purchases...is coming up this Sunday, May 3rd. 

I am just going to ask here...because these are my daughters and I believe in them...

Would you consider partnering with them on these trips by donating?  Even a dollar will help to get them there.  Even if you might not be a Christ follower or understand/believe in mission trips...will you believe in my daughters?  In their wide, innocent hearts full of light and love waiting to be shared? 

I have set up a GoFundMe to make giving easy.  Donations can be made publicly or anonymously.  You can go to it here:

http://www.gofundme.com/tcnqy5d

Thanks, everyone.  If you pray, please pray for my girls as they work toward their goals with these trips and as they travel and bring light.  

As they are brave.

Peace.  

*Other important links you might like:

Denver United Church- http://denverunited.com

Pray For MENA- http://pray4mena.org 

6:8 Ministries- http://www.68ministries.org 

Carl Medearis- http://carlmedearis.com 

Ted Dekker- http://teddekker.com 

 

 


 

Short-term mission trips are undertaken by church groups comprised of members of the congregation who travel to a new location to volunteer their efforts in completing a helpful community project while spreading the gospel of Jesus. Youth and Bible study groups organize and raise funds to be able to embark on these missions, which are centered around the concept of Christian service.

Read more : http://www.ehow.com/info_8033115_definition-mission-trips.html

hort-term mission trips are undertaken by church groups comprised of members of the congregation who travel to a new location to volunteer their efforts in completing a helpful community project while spreading the gospel of Jesus. Youth and Bible study groups organize and raise funds to be able to embark on these missions, which are centered around the concept of Christian service.

Read more : http://www.ehow.com/info_8033115_definition-mission-trips.html

hort-term mission trips are undertaken by church groups comprised of members of the congregation who travel to a new location to volunteer their efforts in completing a helpful community project while spreading the gospel of Jesus. Youth and Bible study groups organize and raise funds to be able to embark on these missions, which are centered around the concept of Christian service.

Read more : http://www.ehow.com/info_8033115_definition-mission-trips.html