Theory Vs. Practice

My husband, right now, is 2,387 miles away, give or take. He's sitting in the warm embrace of friends and loved ones back in our home state, eating foods we haven't been able to get in almost a year, and watching TV in English!

I, on the other hand, am, um -- well, to be honest, I'm in my PJs at 9:00 a.m., sipping Guatemalan coffee and sitting in bed, so I guess I can't really make it seem like I'm suffering by comparison, or anything. But still... we're apart, and that's no fun.

But, his trip does signal another victory in the daily battle between Theory and Practice.

See, I think this is one of the challenges Christians (or, even anyone with strong principles or convictions) face in life. My husband feels like there's a chance he's being called to travel and preach in the future, which kind of interferes with the bone-deep, knee-knocking fear of flying he's had in the past. What's a guy to do? Should he let the theory of *someday* stepping out in faith to explore that calling God whispered into his heart be enough, or should he put it into practice?

(I'm so awfully proud of him for choosing the latter.)

Right now he's on the other side of Mexico (and on the other side of fears and trepidation) preparing to go to a church conference, attend meetings to speak to people about our ministry, and take classes to keep up his professional licenses back in the States. But, more than that, he's also kickin' heiney and takin' names when it comes to proving he's willing to follow through with the ways God is leading Him, and not just let his life be a series of theories.

We almost did that.

We almost let the idea of missions be something we supported in theory, but didn't put into practice because we didn't want to inconvenience ourselves or our loved ones too much. We almost decided the mere theory of trusting God with our time, our finances, our family, and everything else was good enough for us. We almost decided it was impractical to put into practice the theory we said we believed about God really and truly being Lord over every part of our lives.

But, it's more than that.

Every day we have this choice to make. Will we walk out the admonition to love our neighbor as ourselves (Gal. 5:14)? To discipline our thought life and take every thought captive to Christ (2 Cor. 10:5)? To guard our mouths and speak only what is helpful for building others up (Eph. 4:29)? To pray without ceasing  (1 Thes. 5:17), and stand in faith when we pray in the name of Jesus (Mark 11:24)? To love the Lord our God with all of heart, soul, strength, and mind (Mt. 22:37)?  To heal the sick, raise the dead, cast out demons (Mt. 10:8), and make disciples of all nations (Mt. 28:19)?

Will we choose to deceive ourselves into thinking that merely being hearers of God's Word and understanding it in theory are enough (James 1:22), or will we put into practice what we know to be true, and thereby choose the blessed (albeit more challenging) route instead (John 13:17)?

Yes, this challenge comes into play in big things (like moving your family thousands of miles to serve as missionaries or facing down deeply-held fears), but it also comes into play each and every moment of each and every day, when we must decide whether Christian theory is good enough, or if we're going to be the ones to put God's Word and Christ's example into practice.

The decision is easy to make, but not always easy to follow through with. Are you going to live out the reality and practice of a living and powerful God who's so much more than just theory? The choice is up to you...

Why I Want to do Stuff

The other day I wrote this on Facebook:

I woke up this morning with a very powerful conviction: I am not doing enough for Jesus.  He has given me everything and I still give him very little of my life.

John 3:30 NKJV

He must increase, I must decrease.

There were a few comments on it, and I had some discussion about it with my wife.  So, I would like to tell the back story.

Let me start off by saying that Facebook is, to me, a medium that should only be used for short posts.  Though I sometimes read longer posts, I don't usually, so I try to keep mine short, concise, and to the point.

Anyway - I am a server.  I like to serve a lot.  In fact, I think it was an issue in my last job. I was a manger there, and even though I think I did an alright job, I had a habit of serving my employees  instead of leading them.  Of course, to be an effective manager I think there is a part of you that needs to serve (Christ being a good example for this), but too much can leave people not sure what to do or where they stand in their job.

So, I think I have always been pretty good at serving the Lord and giving myself to serve in whatever way possible.  The problem with having a servant's heart, though, is sometimes it feels a little empty.  When you're tired or frustrated, it gets hard to serve.

I have been reading a lot about God's love lately.  Many of the books I read are about people who have fully given their lives to Christ because they have felt his love wash over them.  This, to me, was the missing key.   I want to serve more and be more bold, and the way to do that is to see his face and feel his love.

Because of this, I have been praying.  For months I've prayed, "I want to feel your love Lord.  I want to see you more as a Father, not a boss."  To be fair, I have felt God's love before, but I wanted more.  I wanted that love that makes you not worry about tomorrow.

So, on February 2, 2015, I woke up to His love.  I felt warm all over. There did not seem to be a negative thought that could come in.  But, it was not an outward experience. It was like my very soul was wrapped in his love.

That night, after feeling this peace all day, the expression that came out of it was what I posted on  Facebook.  The whole story sounds a little different than the simple expression I posted, but how do you post all that in a short statement?

I do not believe my works will get me into heaven. I do not worry about an angry God saying I am not doing enough.  I am going to heaven, and my Father delights in me.

What I do believe, though, is that when you feel the love of God, your only response will be, "How can I serve you more?"

Doing My Patriotic Duty

Happy Superbowl Sunday! While most people were trying to decide whether to root for or against the Patriots, I was busy doing my own, um, patriotic (?) duty.

That's right... I signed our family up for insurance through the Healthcare.gov exchange.

Ugh.

It pains me to say that, to be honest.  I don't even want to get into the ins and outs of how I feel about the Affordable Care Act, or how it was passed, or what implications it has for our nation. In a nutshell, I will say that I am NOT a big fan. (That's an understatement of grand proportions, by the way, in case that didn't come through loud and clear.)

What I do want to talk about is *why* I spent my Superbowl Sunday signing us up for insurance in a country we don't even live in through an exchange I never thought should have existed because of a law I disagree with.

We've done a lot of praying about this whole situation. We've researched the law, gotten advice from others, checked with everyone from our tax advisor to our U.S. Senator. And, what it all boiled down to in the end for us is that we have a choice of which citizenship is most important to us - our U.S. citizenship, or our Kingdom citizenship (Phil. 3:20).

I bet you can guess which one won out.

First off, let me be clear that we are absolutely, unequivocally going to need to either buy insurance or pay the fine for not doing so. Yes, I am aware that we live outside the U.S. so no one *thinks* it should apply to us. Yes, I know that a lot of people *think* the law says X, Y, or Z, so they *think* it doesn't affect us. Yes, I know that there actually are exemptions available, even exemptions for people living in a foreign nation. But - trust me on this - I've explored this law inside, outside, and upside down, and there really is no way to get around it for us. At least, not while maintaining our integrity and following what we know to be right.

As a U.S. citizen I know that there are probably ways around buying mandatory insurance that, while technically not meeting the letter of the law, would certainly be acceptable enough and in keeping with what most believe is the spirit of the law, at least. (That is to say, most people wouldn't give them a second thought, and we'd probably never get in any trouble for doing them.)

These are things like just checking "yes" on our taxes when asked if we have insurance through our employer. I mean, technically we do. Kinda. Except that my employer isn't really an employer since I'm just a volunteer.  Oh, and our insurance doesn't meet the minimum coverage requirements set forth in the Affordable Care Act law. Oh, yeah... and our insurance is in GUATEMALA.

So... yes, we have insurance. But, no, it doesn't count. And, even though we could have saved a whole lot of hassle by just checking, "yes" (and hoping we never got audited), it wouldn't have been honest or legal. Maybe as a U.S. citizen I'd have been tempted to do the easy thing, but Kingdom citizens do the right thing. For me, this is about a whole lot more than fines or laws or getting caught. James 4:17 says that if I know the right thing, and do something different, it is a sin. A sin, y'all.

I'm not willing to sin over the ACA law.

But why would not buying insurance be a sin?

Romans 13. That's why.

As much as I might not like it, or completely understand it, or feel happy about it, God (through Paul's letters to the Romans) tells me that I must be subject to the rulers above me, because all authority has been established by God.

<giant sigh>

Well... there you go. If God has established the authority of the president and congress of the United States, and they have implemented this law, then I am going to follow it. Let me be clear here - I'm not saying that there are never circumstances under which people should disobey the law or work to overthrow the authorities above them. For example, if a law requires me to act in a way that is against my Christian principles or Biblical requirements, I will break that law. My Kingdom citizenship will always outrank my U.S. citizenship. But, when the two are not in conflict, no matter how irksome it may be to me, the former requires me to obey the latter.

This is where the rubber hits the road. This is where I've got to decide if I *really* believe that the Bible is my guidebook in all areas of life. This is where I decide if I'm going to live out my faith every day of the week, or just on Sundays and when it's convenient. This is where I get to live out Romans 13 in more than just a theoretical way, even if it hurts.

So, regardless of whether the Seahawks or the Patriots win, I know I've done my patriotic duty - not just as a U.S. citizen, but as a citizen of the Kingdom of the Most High God.  Now that's an authority I'm proud to serve for eternity, which makes even signing up for insurance in a country we don't even live in through an exchange I never thought should have existed because of a law I really disagree with all worthwhile.

No Place Like It

When  I came to Guatemala two years ago for the first time I remember remarking to someone on the trip that I had never been any place like it. His response was I felt that way because I wasn't having to go to work. (I think he was making a joke.)

On Sunday, when I climbed up the stairs to check on the laundry and looked out over the city, I was filled with the same thought - there's no place like this. God has put this place on my heart. I don't know for how long.  I cannot see myself anywhere else right now. Yes, Iowa is my home, and I shed a tear when we crossed the border and I realized I would not be returning for awhile.  The rows of corn. The beautiful sunsets. The hot summers and the cold winters.  The way the evenings cool off just enough in the summer to enjoy going for  a walk.

I have been blessed with the chance to go many places and see many things.  The dryness and vastness of the Arizona desert.  The scope of the Grand Canyon.  The beauty of St. Louis (one of my favorite cities).  The laid-back atmosphere of Jamaica.   The energy of New York. (Oh, I hope to get to go there again!)  The beauty of the Appalachian Mountains in the Carolinas.  The BBQ of Kansas City.  The awe-inspiring cliffs of the Ozarks in Missouri.  The friendly people of Alabama.  And, of course, the ocean, and all the oceans and coasts I have gotten to be on! Some of my best prayer times have been on a beach or standing in the waves.  So many wonderful places.

But, there really is no place like Xela, Guatemala.  God has planted me here.  I love the mountains. The volcano. The wonderful people who still believe that relationships are the most important things.  There may be challenges, but there is nowhere I'd rather be.

So Long, 319-461-4346

This afternoon I'm canceling my cell phone service. This might be the hardest thing I've given up so far.  (Obviously - relationships excluded.)

Harder than my car.
Harder than my cast iron skillet.
Harder even than my favorite jeans, y'all...

It's not that I'm all that much of a techie, or anything. I didn't even have a smart phone. Maybe that's it, though - I've had the same phone for over 5 years. I've had this number even longer - probably almost a dozen years. I was kind of attached.

This was the phone that got me through the long illness and death of my mother-in-law. It's what I used to call my family and tell them about the birth of our youngest child. I spent five years lobbying using this phone. Making endless phone calls on it. Giving out this number. It represented comfort. Connection. Versatility. Safety.

I've spoken with the current governor of Iowa on this phone, folks. For real.

<sigh>

It's the phone I spent hours and hours and hours and hours and hours (you get the point) talking to my loved ones on. I'm pretty sure my children have, at various times, thought that it was semi-permanently attached to my head.

I've laughed with this phone. Cried with this phone. Fought using this phone. It's been there with me for some of my very best and very hardest moments.

Well, so long 319-461-4346. It's been good knowing you. And, though it's hard to give it (and all that it represents) up, I know that I know that I know that I can trust God and how He's leading me. He will never leave me, nor forsake me, and He'll be with me always - even to the end of the age. I guess if He doesn't need a cell phone in order to lead me, I don't really need a cell phone to do His work, either.

(And, for what it's worth - we still have Facebook [Andrea Lemke Farrier], email [farriersoffaith@yahoo.com], Skype [andrealemkefarrier], Magic Jack, etc, etc, etc, through which we can communicate. Guess I don't really have anything to feel sad about after all, do I!?) :)

Getting a Good Start

I do not know how to be a missionary.

Is that too honest?  To the ones who support us, is that too truthful?  Does that make you consider withdrawing your support?

Hopefully you knew me well enough to know that before I wrote this.  That you knew (even before I did) that this would be a process.  That this is like starting at a first job, and it would take me a while to grab on to the things that it takes to go out and share Jesus with people and help in whatever way I can.

For the last three weeks we have been traveling down to the border of Texas where will meet up with people we are working with and go into Mexico and then Guatemala.  Along the way, we’ve been visiting with family and friends before leaving the country.  It has been a very fruitful time

I have been looking for opportunities to minister to people, but it was hard. Anytime I saw someone that I thought looked good to minister to, people were around and I was not sure how they would react. I kept praying for a moment to minister, because that is my job now – right?  To minister to people’s needs?  Isn’t that why people are supporting us?  Why should I wait for Guatemala?  That is where I am called to go, but there are plenty of people to tag along the way, so to speak.

 

So, on our way down to Brownsville on Wednesday night, we had to stop to repair the Jeep again.  The seal around the windshield was coming out and we needed to stop for a potty break and to get tape to hold it together until I could get it fixed the next day.

While I was putting the tape on, a man came up and started talking to me.  He was saying how he was waiting for his job to start, and that he could wash our vehicle while we waited.  His accent was very thick and it was hard for me to catch everything he said.  I knew that the Lord has set this situation up, so I could get my start in ministering, and bless this man who was definitely on hard times.

Here is the problem - I had no idea what to do.  Do I give him money?  Offer him a Bible?  Ask if he is saved?  Pray for him?  So I did what any intelligent man would do: I waited for backup.  Luckily she came out while this man and I engaged in small talk.

See, unlike myself, Andrea has experience talking with people about these things. She has been in these situations way more often.  So as she came up I said to her quietly “help”, and then we were a team.  I told him I did not need my vehicle cleaned but could I give him some money to help him out. Andrea asked if he wanted a bible, which he took, and then we prayed for him, with Andrea leading the prayer.  We shook hands with him and left, but when we got in the car, we prayed more for him.

Thank goodness for a good wife and a good God to lead to a situation to bless someone in His name.

This may seem small, but I will not despise small beginnings (Zech. 4:10).  I have big dreams of what I want to do for Christ, but I have to start somewhere.   

I am just excited for the next opportunity to help.

 

Did We Remember The Hammer?

You know how sometimes you think you've got something figured out, only to find out later what it *really* means?

Feels like that's what we're doing right now.

We're getting close. Like, really, really close. One week from today we'll be arriving in Xela and starting our new lives, which is awesome. And exciting. And very fun. But, that also means that we're getting farther and farther from our old lives. (Which is kinda scary.)

It's been hitting us in waves the last few days - how much we're leaving behind. Galatians 5:24 tells us to crucify the desires and passions of the flesh. I used to think that only meant things like debauchery, drunkenness, gluttony, etc... (You know - the obviously fleshly stuff.) I don't really have a problem with those things. But, I'm coming to find out, more and more, that our flesh also desires stuff that looks pretty non-fleshly, and Jesus meant we're supposed to crucify those things as well.

Like, say, Mark's noble and worthwhile desire to continue advancing in his profession...

...someone hand him a nail.

Or, Rachel's desire to get a job, learn to drive, and do all the other long-dreamed-of things 14 year olds do...

...someone hand her a nail.

And let's not forget my deep, abiding passion for sleeping late in my dearly-beloved bed <sigh>...

...someone hand me a nail.

(Alright, I admit it - some of these desires may seem a bit more selfish and petty than others. 

But, they are in need of being nailed to the cross just as much as the rest.)

Something tells me that, as the days, weeks, and months pass by, I will be struck by three deep and important truths:

1.) Crucifying our desires and passions of the flesh isn't nearly as difficult in hindsight as it is in progress. 

2.) I only thought I had this process all figured out. I bet I'll continue to discover what it *really*, *really* means. 

3.) Jesus is much bigger than anything I will face, and He'll be with me through it all.

Amen.

...so someone hand me a nail.

Casualties

It was a hard thing, trying to decide what to take, and what to leave behind. I mean - imagine if everything you owned was trying out in order to 'make the cut'. Some things just couldn't come along, despite their best efforts. Some things (like my favorite jeans!!!) accidentally got lost in the shuffle. (Nooooooooooooooooooo!!!!)

But, by and large, it was surprising to me how easy it was to get rid of most of our things. And, the things that were not easy to get rid of were also surprising. I polled the family, and here are the interesting items that were hardest to give up for each one:

Mark - Mark didn't want to give up his motorcycle, which is kind of strange, since he'd only had it for about four months. He didn't even necessarily want a bike, but knew it would be a really viable, cheap transportation option in Guatemala, and decided to get one to learn and practice on here. Initially, the whole endeavor was really scary, which made the bike (and all that it represented that he'd overcome) all the more special to him.  He was really sad when he had to give it up.

Andrea - The lost jeans. (Ladies - you know what it means to lose your *favorite* jeans.) But, also, it was really hard for me to leave behind my kitchen stuff. Like, my cast iron skillet. My favorite mixing bowl. My stock pot. These were like the tools of my trade. The weapons in my daily battle to feed my family. The stuff I've used almost every day of my adult, married life, and I'll never see them again. That was kind of tough.

Rachel - Rachel had a pair of worn out, glittery gold shoes that she wore in my sister's wedding, and practically every day since. They weren't in good enough shape to take along, but she also wasn't really ready to let them go. It was a hard, hard thing to drop them into the garbage. Also, the wire desk organizer that she stored her stuff in on her bedside table, and the mosquito (or princess) netting that was around her bed for the past two years caused a few moments of heartache.

Rebecca - Rebecca loves stuffed animals. During our previous moves and times of turmoil, her stuffed animals were an anchor for her - a source of security. While we were preparing for this move, she was extremely brave in parting with ('rehoming' as she called it) her beloved stuffed buddies. She says they were the hardest things to leave behind, though it was easier than she thought it would be since she's super excited about where we're going and what we'll be doing next.

Sarah - Sarah had a really hard time giving her cat up. She really wishes he could have come along with us. (Let's be honest, though - no one, cat especially, would have been happy about that decision in the long run. Fifty-eight hours is a looooooong time in a car.) She was very sad when he left, but says it made it so much easier knowing he was going to a great home of people she knew and loved.

So many things left behind... Even so - even with all of these things that were really hard to let go of - I agree 100% with the C. S. Lewis quote above: "There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind."

Strategizing

I always used to joke that our family is a force of nature. Kind of feels more true than ever these days. Every place we leave on our 'goodbye tour' to Guatemala is left in despair and ruin. Oh, yes - there is much crying, and gnashing of teeth.

(Ok - that might be a bit of an exaggeration.) Still... goodbyes are hard.

It's strange - 200 years ago families set off into the unknown, across endless oceans or prairies, likely to never see or hear from their loved ones again, and I'm not sure that they blubbered and bawled half as much I have in the past few days. And they didn't even have Facebook!

I've been working on my exit strategy (since we're going to be doing this several more times.) It goes something like this:

• Grin broadly and confidently as I announce, "Ok, everyone - it's probably time to go now." 
• Bite my lip and compel my tear ducts to contract using the sheer force of my will. (Duct tape or superglue might be required in future.) 
• Use ninja-like mind power to slow time, in order to soak up every nuance and impression of the goodbye hugs.
• Get into the car, grinning and waving wildly as I watch my loved ones get smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror.
• Break down and sob uncontrollably until I can regain my composure, and/or I run out of tissues. (Hopefully this happens before we arrive to the next location.) 
• Repeat.

It's like ripping off a band-aid over, and over, and over, and over again, only in this case it hurts the ripper and the rippee (so to speak).

<sigh> I don't know if my strategy is a good one or not. I can only pray that those we leave behind know that our stoicism is hard-fought, and not a result of indifference. (Oh, Lord - please let them know!)

And, though I'm not looking forward to any more goodbyes, I am looking forward to the work that the Lord has called us to. So, until someone invents a way to go into somewhere new without having to leave where they are, I guess I'll have to stay the course and stick to my strategy. (Now, where can I get some duct tape?)

The Question of Stuff

It's funny what questions people have about our move.

Most ask the same types of things I think I would if I were in their shoes:

"Wait... where is Guatemala?"

"You're driving there!?

"How long will you be gone?"

But, there are also some questions we've gotten (from a surprisingly high percentage of people) that kind of make us wonder. And giggle. Just a little.

For example, I can't tell you how many times people have looked at us and said, "Are you taking your kids?"

Mind you, this is after they know we're planning more than just a brief trip - we're going to be moving there! And, while I understand that their kinda-goofy external expression is merely an indication of some serious internal reflection and processing, it's still hard for me not to quip back, "No, we thought we'd just put them into storage until we returned..."

The question of storage (for stuff - not kids) does come up a lot, though, and I think it's a great question. People are curious (just like I would be) about what we're taking with us, and what we're putting into storage here.

Many of our decisions about our 'stuff' have been based, out of necesity, on the space we have avaialable. But, I guess that's true for everyone. If you have a mansion, you have a mansion's worth of stuff. If you have a tin shack (like many in Xela do), you have a tin shack's worth of stuff. We have a Jeep Liberty (which is not very big), so very soon we will have only a Jeep Liberty's worth of stuff.

Plus a little in storage.

I'm sure there will be more blogs to come in the future about exactly what we're taking with us. For now, I thought I might share about what we're putting into storage, and why.

We decided early on not to put furniture or other big stuff into storage, because we don't really own anything of tremendous value (monetary, historical, sentimental, or otherwise) when it comes to furniture. We've usually purchased things second-hand, which was easy to do once, and will be easy to do again.

Ditto kitchen items. Ditto bedding. Ditto, well, almost everything else.

So, this is it. This is what 5 people's worth of stored stuff looks like for us:

We kept old home movies and family photos. (There were a LOT of those!) We kept our two old computer towers for practical purposes, in case we end up needing something off of them that we somehow didn't get transfered to our new external hard drive. We kept yearbooks, newspaper clippings, baby books, and a few other things to prove to our kids that they did have a life before we moved. We kept a couple of sentimental items each, that had come from family or friends and evoked warm memories. The girls each kept a small tub or two of their favorite toys, and we kept many of our family's favorite books.

I can already tell that the next time we come back for a visit we will ask ourselves why on earth we kept so much. Moving to Xela, I guess you could say, is a little like practicing up for moving to Heaven. Now, we can't take much with us, which helps us recognize that 'stuff' just isn't all that important. After all, we're not going to get to taking anything with us when our time on earth is done. And, since our citizenship is really in heaven, and not on earth (Phil. 3:20), I'm pretty happy that we're learning to pack accordingly..

What about you - what would YOU put into storage if you were in our shoes???

Laying it Down

I've always wondered what Simon Peter, Andrew, James, and John felt when Jesus told them to drop their nets and follow Him (Mt. 4:18-22).

The Bible is clear that they quickly and willingly obeyed - knowing that the person who called them was so much more than just a mere man, even if they couldn't yet fathom the fullness of who He was. There was something about Jesus that compelled them to lay down everything - their livelihoods, their futures, their families and friends - in order to get closer to Him.

I get that now.

But, I also wonder if those disciples struggled with the same questions and challenges that I'm facing as I prepare to follow Christ in where He is leading me.

My livelihood isn't hard for me to leave. After all - in a way, I'm boosting my own resume and professional possiblities by teaching full-time in a private Christian school. So, that's a win-win for me.

I'm also not worried about my future. Sure, I wonder about what life would be like for us if we were to stay here, instead of leaving. However, I'm fully confident that His way is the best way, and that God meant it for me  when He said, "I know the plans I have for you - plans to prosper you, and not to harm you. To give you a future, and hope." (Jeremiah 29:11).

So, I feel pretty good about leaving my career and future up to Him, knowing He's got them covered.

The part that's hardest - that I struggle with sometimes - 

is in leaving friends and family. 

You see - that's where there's a whole lot of free will that comes into play. Free will that's outside of God's control. That's where there are other people involved.

That's where things get more complicated.

There are people in our life who do not think it's a good idea for us to go. Who don't understand why we're doing it. Who wish we'd stay. Who don't support our decision. We dearly love these people. And, while that part (the part about us loving them) isn't going to change, there are no guarantees about whether or not their love and friendship will be strained, and grow cold during our time in Guatemala.

That's hard stuff.

There are also people in our life who are completely supportive of our ministry. Who show us tremendous grace and support. Who are such an important part of who we are and the process we've gone through to get here that it's hard to think of being separated from them at all, let alone at such great distance. We dearly love these people. And, while that part (the part about us loving them), isn't going to change, there are no guarantees for us about whether or not their love and friendship will be strained, and grow cold during our time in Guatemala, either.

That is hard stuff, too.

Remember in the Bible where the disciples dropped everything to follow the Lord? Now I understand that it probably wasn't their nets that were the hardest thing to lay down at the feet of Jesus.

It was their relationships.

That ones that might have been.

The ones that were just starting to grow. 

The ones that were nearest and dearest to them.

The ones that were already strained and challenging. 

The ones they worried over, they rejoiced over, they relied on most.

But even as hard as it may be to lay all of the precious relationships in my life before the Lord, trusting that He will be sufficient no matter what happens with them, it would be harder still to ignore His call and not go. 

After all, just as it was for the disciples, there is still something about Jesus that compells us to lay down everything - our livelihoods, our futures, and even our families and friends - in order to get closer to Him. 

.

A Choice

I am going to be very honest in this post.  Some people may have issues, but I am going to speak very candidly.

Last year about this time, I started to feel conviction to give something up for the Lord.  Now, I have given many things up for the Lord over the years.  I have sacrificed things I really wanted to do, or habits I enjoyed, but what He asked me to give up last year seems harder - both personally and socially.

Since August 11th of last year, I have not had any alcohol.  It is an easy date to remember, since I was at Comic-Con.  Now, this may not seem like a big deal to some. But, over the years, I had begun to enjoy the taste of alcohol.  Not to the level of getting drunk, but I liked a drink with a meal or with friends.

I compare it to not getting to eat pizza anymore (which is my favorite food).  It is easy to eat something else, but I would still miss eating it.

Alcohol had become something of a special treat for me.  When we would eat at Buffalo Wild Wings I would get a Stella Artois with my wings.  When would eat Mexican food I would get a margarita.  When going to eat somewhere nice, I would get a mixed drink I had never had before.  And on Sunday nights I would have a nice glass of Budweiser.

It was really something to enhance the meal.  It also helped me relax after a long day.

(This may be a good moment to bring up that even though I have stopped drinking, I do not view it as an evil or judge anyone who does.  This is something between me and God.  So if we are hanging out and you want to go get a drink, it will not bother me.)

Of course, I didn't listen to God at first.  (Ignoring God is especially easy when what He's asking you to give up is not something that you view as really bad.)  But, I had a heart to be obedient to what God was telling me.  And, He took matters into his own hands.

Alcohol started not tasting good. It had also lost its effect of being able to relax me.  So, I would have a Budweiser (my favorite beer) after a long day at work and the first sip would be awful.  I would think, "that is odd," and drink the rest of it over the next hour, like normal. That whole time, it would still taste awful.  AND it didn't have any relaxing effect on me.

I remember someone asking me when they offered me a drink, "Do you not drink anymore?".  My response was simply,  "It doesn’t taste good anymore."  After fighting that for a month or two  the light bulb finally came on.  God was applying pressure.

Now here is the part I like about God.

He was applying pressure. If I decided not to listen, to not have an obedient heart, or I just said that it wasn't worth giving up,  I am 99% sure that alcohol would have started tasting good again.  God will only take you as far as you are willing to go.

I have been reading Romans in the New Living Translation, and I found this idea put best in chapter 14 verse 23:

But if you have doubts about whether or not you should eat something, you are sinning if you go ahead and do it. For you are not following your convictions. If you do anything you believe is not right, you are sinning.

So, I am done drinking at this point.  I don't know if this is a forever thing, or just a season.  I would imagine God will want my obedience on this for a lifetime.  But, I am not worried about it. I am following His will for my life, and that is what counts - not the cost.

God is Bigger Than Your 'But...'

"I wish I could _____________ for Jesus, but ______________"

Go ahead... fill in the blanks.

I'll wait. 

I know you can. You know you can. We all can. We all have filled in the blanks before - in conversation with others. With ourselves. With God.

I wish I could...

          be more bold 

                  do more outreach

                            give more time

                                      minister to those in need

                                                 talk to my neighbor about salvation

                                                            

But...

          I'm too shy

                  I don't know how

                              I'm just too darn busy

                                      I don't have what it takes

                                                I don't know what I should say

I know those are the things you've probably said before, because I've said them too. All Christians have. It's inevitable.

Once we give our lives over to Christ, He will begin to stir our hearts into service on His behalf. After all, the Bible says that we are created by Him, and for Him - unto His good works. (Eph. 2:10).  That's what we're here for - to experience His grace and salvation, yes. But, we are also supposed to help others experience them as well. God's got the best retirement plan in the universe, but He really, really wants you to show up and do the job He's given you before you get there.

And, our flesh, conditioning, and will aren't going to like that. They don't want to take orders. They don't want to do the same things that He wants them to do. So, they help us make up excuses. And, for some reason, we believe them.

We believe that our personality, or lifestyle, or circumstances are somehow enough to excuse us from doing the things God put us here to do.

In short, we make our 'but...' bigger than God.

I promise you - you are not so fundamentally flawed, incapable, and ineffective that God can't/won't/doesn't want to use you. That would mean that your weaknesses (whatever it is you believe them to be) are more than the Almighty can overcome.

[Your worst failings sound kinda insignificant when you hear it put that way, don't they?]

I invite you today to stop doing what's comfortable, and step out in faith to do what He asks you to do instead. You just might be surprised how mightily He shows up in your life, and what a joy it is to work your 'but...' off on His behalf!

Like what you've read? Want to learn more? Check out our website, or go here to make a tax-deductible contribution to our ministry. (Select 'Farrier' from the pulldown menu.)

                                                      

Shhh... Don't Tell My Left Hand!

So... I've always had trouble deciding where the line is between not letting my left hand know what my right hand is doing (Mt. 6:3) and helping others be encouraged and able to overcome by sharing my testimony (Rev. 12:11).

When God allows me to be a part of blessing someone else, I'm never sure how much of that stuff to tell others about. Or, more accurately, I'm not really sure how to tell others in a way that truly glorifies Him without making it seem like it's just a little about me.

Because it's not about me. Not at all. At least, to me it's not about me. And, I don't want it to be about me to anyone else. But, I do really, really, really want to share the wonderful things I've been seeing God do for the people around me.

So - here goes. I'll be typing with mostly my right hand, so please don't tell my left hand what all I've had to say. Remember - this is not about me. If anything, I'd like this blog post to make you think about God in His infinite love and mercy, but also about YOU - and the role you have to play in helping people come to know Him.

For several weeks an amazing, awesome, rag-tag group of people from my town have been allowing me to accompany them to Omaha to serve food and hand out warm clothes to the men at a homeless shelter. This is, really, my first experience with homeless people. (I'm a little embarrassed to admit that.)

My first day I was pretty jumpy, and I didn't know what to expect. I mean, I was pouring syrup and doling out peanut butter onto warm pancakes from behind a table, so it's not like I was exactly getting up-close-and-personal or anything. Still - every loud interaction, every brusque tone, every sideways glance kind of set me on edge. I'm ashamed to say it, but I was honestly anticipating a knife fight to break out between two strung out bums at any moment.

(Yes - I'm cringing just as much as you are that I really thought that.)

What I have discovered over these past many weeks, however, is that these guys are just, well... guys. They're just people. Some of them are rude and cranky. A few are even openly hostile (for a myriad of reasons). But, for the most part, they're just people like you and me. They can't help but return a smile or a hug when one is offered. They say, 'please' and 'thank you'. They've usually got a funny joke or story to tell, and they're grateful when you take the time to care about them.

Oh, and they're hungry for the Lord.

I don't care whether someone lives in the biggest house in town, or in a tent by the railroad tracks - they were created in God's image. And, as such, there is something in them that longs to know their creator.

Usually, I'm just the lady behind the table with the funny hat. (See the pictures below if you don't believe me.) But, today, we got the chance to go inside the building and hang out with the guys at the day house. Because of the crowding due to the cold temperatures, it was (quite literally) an opportunity to rub shoulders with these men. I didn't really know anyone's names, but I had come to recognize a lot of faces over the weeks. Apparently they recognized my face too, and the fact that I had offered them smiles, syrup, and the occasional, 'God bless you.'

Those things alone would never have been enough to forge a relationship that transcended all of our vast differences in order to build trust and a level of intimacy between us. But, combined with the burning desire inside their souls to know God, it was sufficient.

It started with one man who came to me, a bit shyly, and quietly said, "I have a question..."

He showed me a page from a religious magazine, stating that after Jesus ascended He was a spiritual being in Heaven.

"So, does that mean He wasn't really human?" the man asked, his head cocked and eyebrows raised.

We talked quietly, amid the chaos and crowds, about the fact that Jesus is seated in Heaven with God as a spirit, but that He truly was 100% human while on Earth, and really did know the realities of life as a person - just like us. This seemed to be an important point to this homeless man - a way to connect with an otherwise unrelatable God.

He had no more than turned away when someone else tapped me on the shoulder, and began the same way:

"I have a question..."

As I walked the ten feet or so between the table I had been standing at and the door, I was stopped by several men today, each of them with a different question about God. I could tell that others were listening intently, curious about I had to say.

One man had been to Bible college briefly, and his eyes lit up at the chance to discuss the scriptures- clearly a topic near and dear to his heart. I found out that he didn't have a Bible, and I offered him one of the Gideon New Testaments that I always keep with me. From all the way at the other end of the eight-foot table, another man - who I didn't even know had been listening - quietly asked if he could have one too.

Not everyone was eager to talk about Jesus, of course. Most of them were more concerned with finding a seat in the crowded room or getting a hold of the classified ads from the paper. One gentleman was even hostile to me - vehemently telling me that as a Muslim he didn't believe in my Jesus. How could someone be God, and let other people kill him? To him, the story made no sense. Yet, before I left, he grabbed my hand, told me he could tell I was a woman of God, and allowed me to give him the last copy of my New Testament, promising he'd look it over so we could continue the conversation next time I was there.

There were other men with questions, I could tell, but our group was leaving, so I headed out to the bitterly-cold courtyard area to help load the vans. I stopped for a moment to watch a homeless man dole out little bits of a piece of bread he'd been given to the birds. As I stood there, I suddenly felt someone at my shoulder.

"I bet you wonder why he's doing that, don't you?" He asked. I didn't recognize him - neither from the pancake lines in weeks past, nor from any conversations I'd had that day.

"Actually, I was just thinking about what a beautiful act of mercy it was for that man to feed the birds, when he himself has so little," I replied.

There was silence for a moment, and I turned to look at the man beside me.

He was sober, and swallowed hard before he spoke.

"I don't know why, but I feel like I'm supposed to come and talk to you," he said. All of the typical toughness and posturing that is so necessary for survival as a homeless person dropped away, and he became very, very vulnerable.

"Well, what do you think we're supposed to talk about?" I asked. (Yes - I know... it probably wasn't the best response, but it's what came to me. Maybe I'll do better next time.)

He swallowed again, and rubbed the toe of his worn boot against the ice in the courtyard.

"About the fact that Jesus loves me."

So that's what we talked about.

I told him that Jesus did love him, and asked if I could pray with him.

After I had finished, he thanked me, and wiped the tears away that had begun to freeze on his cheek.

(I told you it was cold out there. That, and I'm prone to long prayers.)

I had always believed - until recently - that it was wrong to 'push' my religion on others. That everyone had already had the chance to make an informed decision about their beliefs. That people didn't really want to hear about Jesus. Today was yet another reminder of just how untrue that is, and just how much God's creation will always yearn to know about Him.

The question is - will there be anyone there to tell them?

Look - I don't know everything there is to know about theology. I don't know all the answers to all of life's hard questions. And, I'm not perfect. No one is. (Except Jesus, of course.) But, because I was there today - just because I showed up - other people had a chance to get to know a little bit more about their savior and their creator.

God is that big - that He can work through people like me. I know He can work through you, too, and I challenge you to start being there in your own life.

Being there for your friends
Being there for your neighbors.
Being there for your family
Being there for your co-workers
Being there for the people in the biggest house in town.
Being there for the people living in tents by the railroad tracks.
Being there for the lovely.
Being there for the unlovely.

But, most of all - just being there, wherever God asks you to be.

Like what you've read? Want to learn more? Check out our website, or go here to make a tax-deductible contribution to our ministry. (Select 'Farrier' from the pulldown menu.)

If you're interested in contributing to the wonderful things this group of folks is doing for the homeless in Omaha, send me an email at farriersoffaith@yahoo.com. 

This is someone's home.

(I told you I wear a funny hat.)

We are a motley but dedicated crew. It was 2 degrees F this morning.

I am amazed at how many of these men have severe illnesses, diseases, and disabilities.

This facility is at more than 150% capacity, and still not able to serve all those in need.

One of our crew pets 'Handsome' a loyal companion to the folks who live down by the river.