Do You Trust God?

The Lord said to Abraham, “Go from your people and your fathers house to the land I will show you.” (Genesis 12:1 NIV)

If I had known the road that lie ahead, I’m not sure that I would have had the courage nor the willpower to say yes. As it is, God left out the details (after all what is important is following Him in obedience, not what we have to give up, nor walk through to do so.) In leaving out the details, He actually made it a little easier to say yes. But I assure you that following God is never easy. It seems as if He is always asking us to do something that thrusts us out of our comfort zones; something that is just beyond what we are capable of or comfortable with; something we can’t do without Him.

I don’t know where you are today, if God has asked you to Go, Stay Behind or Return, but what I do know is that God is faithful and He will never leave nor forsake you. He has a good plan and everything works together for good and for His purpose. So today- as you sit in that place where God has asked you to trust Him, you have a decision to make. Will you trust Him?

Will you trust Him when He asks you to do something difficult? Will you trust Him when He asks you to do something that no one else understands? Will you trust Him when your bank account is empty? Will you trust Him when you feel alone? Will you trust Him when life doesn’t go as you hoped or planned? Will you trust Him when He doesn’t do what you want Him to do?…when He answers “No”…when it seems impossible…when others reject you…when you feel that no one cares?

Abraham had a choice-many times God asked him to believe in faith, to follow, to trust, to obey. Like Abraham, today God continues to ask us the same question. “Will You trust Me?”

KD

A New Direction

For over 6 years my writings in this blog have been little more than me processing life, this life that I have lived safely and extravagantly Under the Shadow of God’s protective wings. Some blogs have fallen on deaf ears, others were beloved by many and still others encouraged friends walking similar roads. Sometimes I wrote often and at other times sporadic, but the goal of practicing writing has always stayed before me. Since 2012 I have practiced vulnerability by exposing glimpses of the secrets that hovered safely in my mind just out of others’ sight.

Over the years, many of you have encouraged me to write a book, and while that remains one of my life goals, I can’t imagine what it is that I could actually write about that would be “book worthy”. Then there is the little detail, that I know NOTHING about writing a book. But there are many things that God has asked me to do over the years that I knew nothing of before I started. So if and when He tells me it’s time, I suspect He will show me the way.

I was inspired recently by comments friends have made to me, that perhaps my blog could serve a higher purpose. One comment was by a young missionary, the other a new friend stateside and the other by someone who has “been in the ministry” for many years. Each story was slightly different, yet all were agonizing over the enormity of the task that God had set before them, their struggle to fill the shoes which God had call them to wear and the weight of it all.

I too find myself in a new place, wearing new & heavy shoes. For the last several months, since moving from Mexico back to Tennessee, I have struggled with identity. As I seek to figure out who I am in this new season of life, I remember the words of a dear friend who challenged me to ask a different question. She encouraged, “It is not who you are, but Whose you are that really matters!” And she is right! So much of ME has been wrapped up in being a missionary that I somehow lost sight that BEING GOD’S is all that really matters. Weather I find myself in Mexico, Honduras or East Tennessee, the only location my identity is dependent on is continuing to live Under the Shadow of HIS wings.

Like an arrow aimed at a target for the first time, I now have a direction, other than “practice writing” for this blog.

I’m not sure this blog will really change much, but rather my focus has changed. Instead of writing for me, I’ve decided to write for you. To my friend who left comforts behind to be a missionary and struggles with just wanting to throw in the towel & go home, this blog is for you. To my friend who at God’s leading used her retirement to start a new business, and just wants to hear Jesus say, “well done” this blog is for you. To those who have faithfully served the Lord through good and bad times, this blog is for you. To all my friends (new, old & yet to come) who have made the choice to follow God when all those closest to you thought you had gone crazy. You guessed it…I’m writing for you!

I know what it’s like to take the risk and follow God when no one around you understands. I know what it’s like to be afraid of failure on one hand and desperately want to quit on the other. I know what it’s like to cry out in prayer reminding God, “I am still here!” Be encouraged and know YOU ARE NOT ALONE!

Ministry, and quite frankly life, can be a lonely place. So as I weave my stories, I will try my best to connect with you and remind you of God’s faithfulness. Even when you don’t understand and even when you think that He has forgotten you, He holds you as the apple of His eye. The fact that you are reading this blog is His way of gently reminding you that you are not forgotten and you are not alone.

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” – Jeremiah 29:11 ESV

“…I will be with you. I will not leave you or forsake you.” – Joshua 1:5 ESV

Be encouraged today friend, The Lord has great plans for you!

KD

I found God in Chicago

Weary, beaten down and discouraged, I boarded a plane headed to Chicago. I wasn’t convinced that I even wanted to go. Self defeated before I even began, I was ready to quit. The good news, as God often orchestrates it, I didn’t have any other options. This was the open door of opportunity and I was walking through it.

I say I found God in Chicago. Although I had lost sight of Him, He had not lost sight of me. It’s not that I had quit looking for him, or turned my back on Him. I just couldn’t hear Him. His voice, that has often been so clear to me, now seemed silent. I prayed, read my Bible, cried, pleaded and it seemed like my prayers hit the ceiling and just ricocheted to the floor.

Last week it had become clear to me that not only had I lost me identity, but also my purpose. So much of who I am has been wrapped up in the title Missionary. Since I was 12, I wanted to be a missionary. After 16 years in Mexico we agreed with the advice of our board, to take a sabbatical. We knew in doing so that we were on the brink of a new season, yet it was unclear what that season would look like. We had some opportunities come our way and open doors that we decided to walk through, but I still couldn’t see God leading me.

For years my prayer has been, “Align my heart with Yours and let me walk in Your will.” But still I felt like I was meandering blindly with no specific destination in mind. Over the last months, I have asked God why I am here and where I am going. During this time, God has used others to encourage me. The most recent being a friend’s comment that “Often we have no idea that God is leading us and then we look back and realize He’s been there along.” Although, I knew there was truth in that statement, the knowledge had not moved from my head down to my heart. It wasn’t until the other morning when I was reminded of the donkeys that my ears were unclogged & my heart came alive with knowledge.

I love how in moments when we least expect it, God’s Word comes alive and brings clarity to our circumstances. The story is found in 1 Samuel 9, I’ll let you read the details, but it’s safe to say that someone else was going through the motions of life & had absolutely no idea that God had orchestrated the whole scene: The Donkeys, The Servant, The Trip, The Seer, The Anointing, The King. And in that moment, I knew I had found God in Chicago.

I don’t know your story, where you are, your struggles & inner battles, but I know that our God is so big & powerful that you can’t ruin His sovereign plan. He DOES make all thing work for good, even when we think we’re just out trying to find the donkeys.

Guilty

I’ve tried to be open about the burnout (aka: compassion fatigue) that I am experiencing. But as I’ve said, it’s not easy to be transparent. But since I have a Masters Degree in Counseling, I know the healing value of processing, so I continue to write and share.

My current battle is guilt! As far back as I can remember I have loved Missions. When I was a child I was fascinated by the stories that visiting missionaries told. When I was in middle school I attended an annual missions conference and knew then that I wanted to be a missionary when I grew up. Missions is in my blood, it’s what I know, what I’m good at and who I am. So no wonder I’m feeling guilty. If Missions makes up so much of who I am, how can I be happy to return stateside? Is that even ok?

The truth is, I am enjoying being in Tennessee. I love to look at the breathtaking Smokey Mountains and imagine what they will look like in the fall. I’m looking forward to the colors of Autumn, a sight I have not seen for many years. I like the cleanliness here. Even with 2 inside dogs and one that sheds extensively there is no comparison to the dirt in my home in Mexico. Here there is no mud or dirt inside, no scorpions, no mice, no roaches nor mold. I don’t have to sweep, mop and dust daily. It’s just not dirty here like it is there.

Crisis in the states are different than in Mexico. In fact, I can’t name one real crisis that we’ve suffered since returning stateside. Oh we’ve had inconviences, setbacks and the like, but for the most part life is easy here. In Mexico life is raw. There, the day is filled with a million tasks of survival. Food must be sanitized and prepared from scratch. You can’t buy or cook ahead because of the frequent power shortages (which can last for days and can ruin everything you have in your fridge and freezer). Running water and electricity are never taken for granted. Many days one, if not both, are non-existent. Dust and dirt whirl through the air and cover your house inside and out. My sinuses are stopped up every morning and at 5,000+ ft above sea level the oxygen is thin and Fibromyalgia pain at times is unbearable. There, common cuts can lead to massive infections and people easily get sick from parasites. In Mexico life is hand to mouth and it is difficult living there. The thought of returning overwhelms me! And that makes me feel embarrassed and….guilty.

Before you think I am completely down on Mexico, let me say…There are many wonderful things about Mexico. There, people are important in a way that they aren’t here. People are more important than things. The slow pace of society helps cultivate friendships. Family is honored and close knit. There, all ages hang out together: grandparents, middle age adults, teenagers, children and babies. Mexicans appreciate and enjoy children and I have learned to enjoy my daughters in a way that I possibly never would have had I not lived there.

I am thankful for my 16 years of living in Mexico, but I am glad to be stateside taking a break from raw living. And when I think of my friends there and the hardships they endure just to survive, well it makes me feel a little (Can you guess?)…..guilty.

KD

Blue Rose

Our youngest is becoming quite the painter. Following in her fathers artistic footsteps she creates abstract images which cause those of us who are less artistic to ask “what is it?” The other day she entered the kitchen and asked if I would like her to paint something for me. I eagerly agreed. She then asked me what I would like for her to paint. Trying to encourage her to paint something a bit more concrete, I responded “How about some flowers?” “Which ones?”, she responded, “Would you like me to paint these roses?” I agreed. “If I paint these I would paint them blue” she said, making reference to the blue roses in Alice and Wonderland. Then we both went about our day. Later, while I was in the garden, she came to me with a huge smile on her face. “Here’s your rose!” she said. Then she handed me one long stem rose whose petals had been completely covered in blue paint.

 

 

 

 

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