When culture and love collide…love wins!

 

 

We live in a world of culture, many cultures. We are taught to be culturally sensitive, respect culture and sadly many times we begin to bow to culture in idolatry. There continues to be a great shift in communities as we get farther and farther away from life in community as we see in the Book of Acts. Don’t get me wrong, I will be the first to tell you understanding one’s culture is very important, vital to establishing and living out life together; however, what I see more as years go by is culture becoming identity, culture causing isolation and culture becoming tradition. We live a certain way because that is what has always been done, we believe a certain theology because that is what our families have always believed and we eat/drink/dress certain ways because that is what is honoring…well I mean that is what I have been told. 

BUT! What I have witnessed in many years living amongst my Hispanic friends, the homeless and the least of these and now in Mozambique, Africa is this…when culture and love collide…love wins! I cannot tell you how many times I have sat on a thatch mat incorrectly, asked the direct question about someone’s sexual relations with their two husbands, explained how condoms do not cause HIV, asked a father to take his adult daughter and her three children in after he had sold her off to her abusive husband as it was after all his actions in the first place that brought her to this moment of pain and suffering, forgot to clap twice or three times when food was offered before taking the lid off, asked the witch doctor why she would actually think her chant would heal, wore the wrong dress, wore pants when I should be wearing a wrap like a dress, forgot to offer a basin and pitcher of water to wash my company’s hands before we ate, held a dying man’s hand as he was shamed by his community, sat at the feet of the drunken grieved widow, stopped to talk to the town drunk, gave money to the city beggar, asked to pray over a government official in the middle of the community, taught that when you commit suicide and you believe in Jesus of course you do not go to hell and especially to purgatory, forgot to say Mano before greeting one of our guards Alberto, watched a Madea movie with my Mozambican friend, payed way too much for the pig I ran over and did not even take the pig home to eat…Day after day I look physically, spiritually, emotionally, and mentally broken Mozambican men, women, and children directly in the eyes as I hold their hands and tell them that they are loved, cherished, valuable, and loved. I live my life out of love while making what some would call huge cultural mistakes some purposely and some by accident. I choose to be vulnerable, I choose to be intimate, I choose to be rejected, I choose to be uncomfortable, I choose to make them uncomfortable knowing that the Comforter is present…the atmosphere and environment is His and He is our audience, our advocate and He will be our culture, He is our new identity…and amazingly each time there is no offense, no rejection, no broken relationships. There is grace, tears, relief to be acknowledged, understanding without speaking the same language, laughter, joy, friendship and most of all love wins!

The Lord brought me back to an amazing testimony in His Word this week as I was meditating on my life, how He has always given me the grace to enter in and alongside people’s lives no matter what their belief or culture. He took me back to the story of Jesus being anointed by the sinful woman as told in Luke 7:36-50.

This woman lived a sinful life…some assume prostitution but as we learn from culture it could be many things from a child out of wedlock, multiple affairs or she was a victim of sexual abuse as a child.

Jesus enters a Pharisee’s house as he accepted an invite to dine there. In those days he should have had his feet washed upon arrival from his travels on a dirt road, his head/hair would have been anointed with olive oil and he would have been greeted with a kiss on the face. His host did not seem to have followed these customs, but Jesus still graciously lies back to dine with him. As he is reclining at the table, the sinful lady enters, approaches him…she carries with her an alabaster jar of perfume that is worth more than she may make in a lifetime and tears fall from her cheeks as she weeps. She weeps…she approaches as a rejected, shamed woman…she approaches knowing she may be rejected and shamed again. She begins to wet his feet with her tears…then she does something that in her culture is only done when you live out a life of prostitution…she lets her hair down…hair that is meant to be kept up, clean, a sign of self-worth in her day and never to be let down in public. She begins to wipe his feet with her hair as the dirt of His journey mixes with her tears…mixes with her rejection, her shame. Then she kisses them and pours the perfume over them. The journey of a broken, sinful woman collides with the journey of a healed, sinless man. What a risk!

The audience around her is horrified but her Audience of One is seeing her as His Father sees her…He reminds them of how they did not follow culture by providing water for His feet, kissing Him, anointing Him. Then He speaks these words…”Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown”…Jesus also then says…”Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” No offense, no rejection, no shame! In fact, rejection and shame is gone and He is her defense! Culture collides and LOVE WINS! Why you ask? Risk…she risked it all for healing, to be whole, to be seen as she really is.

This same Jesus resides in me, in us if we choose…I choose to take risk in Love. I believe when He asks me to step out and forward to do something or speak something or to kneel and weep at someone’s feet that in that obedience the result is not offense, rejection, shame but the result is Love…Love is our identity and our culture. His tears become our tears, His perspective becomes our perspective, His life becomes our life, and His heart becomes our heart…Risk in exchange for healing, for life. LOVE WINS!

 

 

 

 

Simple words, big heart...

I always have so much I could share...some day I would love to write a book, or two, or three...but today I want to allow my 9 year old son to share. We all want to be heard, have a voice...this one paragraph from Jaidan in his own words can change your world, your perspective. May Jaidan's simple but deep faith, attention to relationship and love compel you...it is really a simple Gospel.

 

 

 

I bet you want to know what this nine year old thinks about Mozambique? Well where shall we start, let’s start with what I feel about Mozambique. It’s hard to see all the suffering, pain, and drunkenness. People are starving and it’s hard for them to provide food. But the Mozambique people are sweet people, and the kids are fun to play with. Well what have I done so far? Well there are children over the fence and we made friends with them. We’ve known them ever since we got to Mozambique. We used to go over there to their houses and play ball in this giant area to play in, but now they come over to our house and play. They come over almost every day. My dad has started a Bible school called Arvore da Vida (Tree of Life) and does it at a place called Tiqui Tiqui. He goes there on Saturday. Our friend Antonio comes to our house every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday for Portuguese lessons, and he goes to Tiqui Tiqui with my dad. My mom works with our friends, Rebecca, Becca, Mariana, and Dara. They are nurses and one of their patients, Modesto, was very sick and he was the only patient I met and he’s a sweet child. I prayed for him and later he was better. He’s going to be two next month. Tchau for now!

When death grips...

Some days death is physical here…actually many days.  Then there are other days when death is spiritual, mental, emotional.  When childhood dreams die before they take their first breath. When HIV roots in a young man’s core and tells him to hide, to give up.  When a struggling mother lashes out in physical abuse as fear torments her and she panics at the thought of losing her fourth child to disease. 

What do you do when death grips? I have to choose daily when it grips…to release.  I hold things loosely as I realize I have no power to grip life and death the way the enemy would like me to. I choose to encounter my Father in each circumstance, to exchange what was in my grip for what He now gives, what I now hold loosely…that is what it truly means by He gives and takes away!

Job 1:21…”Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave  and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.”

 

He exchanges death for life! Suffering, grief, sorrow, and struggle for eternal life…for eternal hope. I struggle when I advance with violent effort or contend with an adversary that has already been defeated. I hold life loosely while I stand firm and choose to release what does not belong to me.

1 Corinthians 15:58…”Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourself fully to the work of the Lord. Because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.”

 

 

I can tell you...

“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter- when you see the naked, to clothe them, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.”

Isaiah 58:6-9

This has been one of my favorite verses and promises in the Bible for a long time and it quickly became what some would call a life verse for Ian, myself and the boys. For several years I have meditated on these verses and asked the Lord to manifest His words into a reality for me, for my family…manifest Himself in us; the Word made flesh.

When missionaries are “evaluated” by their supporters or organizations, they are usually asked some of these questions: How many have you lead to Christ? How many souls have been saved? How many children are on your program? How many programs have you started? Understandable for those supporting you with their hard earned money…some sending what little extra they have to support the Kingdom through you and your family.

I do not have huge numbers to report to you all this past month…I can tell you that for me it was a month of death, struggle, hunger, pain, heat, and political unrest. I can tell you that one of the men we were caring for, advocating for and praying with hung himself from a tree as he could no longer bare the shame and rejection cast upon him by his father. A shame he knew on most days was already taken care of by his heavenly Father and crucified with Jesus. I can tell you people still have HIV and people still seek healing in the darkness of witchcraft and human sacrifice. I can tell you crops are not sufficient as the intense sun has scorched and stunted their growth. I can tell you a woman killed herself as her child had starved and she bore the responsibility for what this physical earth could not provide them.

BUT! I can also tell you that there are three Mozambican ladies that love Jesus, love their community, and walk miles in the heat to sing and pray with those taking their last breath…they bathe the rejected and outcast. I can tell you that a loving wife used all that was left of her clothing to bath and care for her husband, and we were able to provide her with five blouses and two new capulanas. I can tell you a little boy and his mom were rejected after an HIV diagnosis but now cared for by the local pediatrician as well as the nurses at the milk clinic and after meeting with him, her dad took her in from an abusive husband after marrying her off at a very young age. I can tell you we supported a single dad and his four sons with food provision. I can tell you people find comfort in listening to their audio Bibles and hearing songs of praise in their own language. I can tell you that there is HOPE. I can tell you that when you call on HIM, the Lord will answer and He will say HERE AM I. I can tell you He answers the Mozambicans’ prayers through us but really it is through your prayer, your support and your Hope that He will do what He says He will do. Why? Because He is a good, good Father and He loves us, He loves Mozambique. Because this is what we work towards…as reminded by a dear friend this past month…Revelation 7:16-17…”Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst. The sun will not beat down on them, not any scorching heat. For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; he will lead them to springs of living water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” I believe this promise…I believe we change communities one life at a time. I believe the Giver of Life has conquered death. I believe there is EVEN MORE for the people and land of Mozambique…I am thankful to co-labor not only with Jesus but with all of you. I am thankful…

 

 

To dream again, to live again...

It has been 6 months of ups and downs in Africa, but God is faithful. I admit I have struggled many times with my identity as a daughter of the King, as a wife, as a mother, as a friend. The past 5 years I have discovered the amazing, beautiful, resilient person God has created me to be...not because of me, but because of all He has done and is doing. I chose to boast in Him and His ways...to believe He changes the environment when I walk in the room as He lives furiously in me and through me. How do you live out life under a microscope, under others expectations? This past week I came to terms that I had let the fear of man, the false expectation of man, consume my identity to the point of tears and suffering. BUT GOD! He was there waiting for me. I was stuck in the mud on this journey He has blessed me with, and He was there in the still of it holding me. Then last night He spoke to me in the darkness of the night as I slept, He spoke to me in the deepness of my spirit. I had a dream that I was going to the Olympics!!! I dream a lot about water...since I was little...most times I am deathly afraid of it, to get in it, surrounded by it, it engulfs me, it takes my children from me. In reality, I am not a good swimmer. In my dream I was surrounded by pools...not afraid but never got in. Next thing I knew I was in an elevator going up and those around me were starting at me...I felt an incredible presence, and I knew it was God. I felt peace as they stared at me. I looked down at myself and saw I was wearing all white...white running pants, white running shoes, a white hoodie and on the left pocket area of my hoodie was the word OLYMPIAN in dark print. I quickly realized I was going to the Olympics! I then found myself next to an Olympic size pool...I felt great humility as I was kneeling down at the edge, dipping my hands in the water. A lady approached me, and I felt the care and love overflowing from her spirit. She began to speak to me as I started our lesson. She inquired, "You are an Olympian, what area did you qualify in?" I could feel the joy, patience, kindness...all the fruits of the Spirit rising up in me as I answered with calm confidence and utter amazement..."In swimming." In my mind I was thinking in the dream but yet vividly...Lord I never even got in the water, I do not swim well, how am I going to the Olympics? I felt so much peace, so much joy...it was tangible just as the living water running through my hands. Then I woke up...

I woke up feeling renewed, reconciled to who I really am...I am His and He lives furiously in me and through me. He spoke to me as I asked Him what this dream meant...He said it is not a dream, it is your life...the life I have gifted you with when my only Son gave up His life. God has the victory! He qualifies me for the greatness in my life...not by my strength or my skills but by His Spirit. He qualifies us and He calls us...not by the judgment of man, man's expectations or rules but by His love for me. We represent Him, He washes us clean and clothes us in righteousness. I am qualified in Christ, called to His ministry and appointed to His work!

Oh how He Loves...

Lots of thoughts this week as I take in the world but most of all His Word. I believe we have difficulty reconciling that the God of the Old Testament is the same God of the New Testament. Why would God flood the earth but yet fully reveal Himself with such sacrificial love in Jesus instead of destroying the earth again? Man resisted the grace of God in the OT and the brutality of the law was manifested. In the NT Grace comes in the form of a man, a man that was also God...Jesus. I heard some simple wisdom this week..."I trust when I don't understand. I choose celebration in the middle of things I don't understand." We want to explain all God is in an instant without spending daily time with Him, in His Word with Holy Spirit interpreting. An evangelist I respect, Todd White commented... If God is not your Father and Holy Spirit your mentor, you will be in trouble; you will be codependent on someone instead of colaboring from someone. My view in this season is there is a lack of reading scripture and asking Holy Spirit to interpret...there are more leaders and evangelists seeking/standing on the platform of their safe/palpable theology then there are those kneeling down before His throne and being His hands, feet and moving Jesus. Explaining the scripture in full was never assigned to us. We bring attention to ourselves as we continue to apologize on behalf of "Christians" that have sinned against and brought shame against those of different lifestyles and beliefs instead of bringing attention to the one Who bore our sin, bore our shame, bore our wrath and has already forgiven us. This can be in a perspective false humility and almost a soft religious sales pitch to win someone over to hear your theology and then you become a hindrance between the true Voice and to the true Love...Jesus. He does not need us being His sales pitch, His sugar coating...the Blood actually covered it for us. It does not work in America and definitely not in a third world country. He is beautiful enough, passionate enough, strong enough, tender enough, in love with us enough to show Himself intimately to those who desire Him and His ways.

COURAGE...

In five days I will celebrate my 40th birthday...in Africa. I think of the months prior to our move and the words "you are courageous" bounce around in my head. I realize more than ever how we misunderstand true courage...how we mislabel unconditional love as acceptance. I read the international news today. I read about young girls 8-14 years of age being trained up in East Africa to perform sex acts in order to be sold or married off to men old enough to be their fathers and grandfathers. I think of how they have to wake up each morning to darkness when they should be basking in the warmth of the sun...COURAGE. I read about the history of genocide by Germany years ago in Nambia. I think of how they survived day after day in fear and under the oppression of the lie that they were not human...COURAGE. I read about Jesus appearing in a vision to an ISIS member and saying, "Follow Me", and he chooses to follow...COURAGE. I skim down and read about the Duggars and Bruce Jenner in America along with the surrounding opinions. The Duggars will have to recount the sins of their past for the jury known as social media. Bruce is to be honored with the Arthur Ashe Courage Award. My heart aches, my spirit grieves and groans. Memories flash before me of my parents as they battled to take their last breaths of physical life with dignity, remembering as they had to release all control for others to care for them and for their Abba to receive them...COURAGE. I remember many patients and family members I have cared for in my 15 years of nursing...diverse cultures, diverse backgrounds...sleepless night after sleepless night for all as they journeyed through uncontrolled pain and spiritual anguish...COURAGE. I look across the fence of my new home and see a 6 year old with a 6 month old wrapped on his back, walking barefoot along the road, smiling, semi-trucks speeding by with what is left of their brakes...COURAGE. I sit across from a 13 year old girl as she holds her 4 month old sibling and updates us on the amount of diarrhea she has had the last 24 hours, we instruct her on what to do next and she intently listens...COURAGE.  The most courageous people I have seen in my short 40 years will have no celebrity status, no award ceremony, no social media status battles declaring unconditional love and acceptance between Christian and Secular, instead there will be money exchanged for child sex slaves, funerals for infants that have lived for months without even being given a name along with unmarked graves, there will be years of grief for those that cared for the sick and dying, deep emotional wounds for those survivors that are told the holocaust and genocide never happened...COURAGE, COURAGE, and more COURAGE. I end my day thanking the Lord for new perspective, true perspective, eternal perspective...JESUS...He was beaten and tortured for us, took the wrath, bore the shame, was mocked, and is still mocked...COURAGE. He is my COURAGE, Christ in Carla and nothing more.

"For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love, and self-discipline."
  -2 Timothy 1:7