Baby Steps

I love-hate the old 90's film, "What About Bob." Every time I watch it, I laugh out loud, mostly in a nervous, really uncomfortable, I'm-not-sure-what-else-to-do, kind of way. The character, "Bob," is horrifically neurotic. He has OCD to the nth degree. He won't touch anything without cleaning it and his fears and hang-ups outnumber even the most terrified cartoon character. His only salvation, his only pathway through the bog of his own psychosis, is a pop psychologist who has penned a trite self-help book called "Baby Steps." Bob, like a desperate leech, latches on to the concept and begins to see improvement. He can suddenly take elevators by taking one baby step at a time. He can walk out of his living room because all he has to do is take one step, and then another step. Bob's obsession with the book leads to more uncomfortable, neurotic humor and the audience can chuckle because the scenario is just too absurd to be real. WE are not that crazy. WE obviously have better boundaries. We don't need to take baby steps. Right? RIGHT????

This week, I am identifying with Bob on a whole new level. I'm not about to stalk anyone, don't worry. But, as of late, I have wondered if Bob-like neurosis was in my immediate future. We have made some huge, gargantuan life decisions that initially sent me into a spiral of pure bona fide nuttiness. In an economy that isn't any one's friend, we have decided to embark on two separate but, strangely connected adventures. First, we are pursuing an international adoption that we aren't at liberty to discuss in detail but, is likely going to cost a whole heck of a lot of money, and second, we are going to seriously increase our giving to our church, which is completely, literally committed to making a dent in global injustice in the next 3 years... I'm not writing about this to brag. I'm not writing about this so I can gain some kind of saintly favor from God.

I'm writing about this because deciding to commit to both was really HARD. We came to the commitment by taking teensy little baby steps and by crying and negotiating with God a lot.

And then, after safely jumping from lily pad to lily pad, we just dove in head first, right in to the pond. Faith is, after all, being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. (Hebrews 11) I guess you could say we've done a big, joyful belly flop.

Committing to 2 very pricey endeavors on a pastor's salary is just plain scary. Scary but, exciting. Invigorating, actually. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I know that we are risking to affect change on a global scale, that our sacrifice means something in the grand scheme of things.

So, I guess I'm writing to encourage you to do your own belly flop. You get extra points if it makes a loud smacking sound when you hit the water. :) It stings but, you know you're alive.

You know you're getting older when.....

Let me begin this post by saying that I’m not technically old. Early thirties is not old. I’m younger than my husband and younger than a lot of my friends. In fact, my very good friends/ neighbors were teasing me about being the young one on the block last Saturday night (You know who you are, Grandma). I can literally feel some of my readers rolling their eyes at the title of this post as they think, “Oh, just wait. You have no idea what old is. You’re practically a teenager.” Fair enough, fair enough. But, I still have some complaints.

Lately I’ve had these humbling moments that scream, “You are AGING.” Generally speaking, my knees hurt when I run, my metabolism is slowing down, loud restaurants irritate me and I have no clue what movies are out or what new band is worth listening to. I don’t know if these are the result of aging or motherhood but, I’ve been able to explain them away. A cold day explains the creaky knees, the metabolism just needs me to take more vitamins, intolerance of high volume at restaurants just means I’m tired from a day of raising kids…

I cannot, however, continue to explain away my fading eyesight. That sounds a bit dramatic. Rest assured, I’m not going blind or anything. But, let me tell you a little story.

I have been trying to find a job. Well, not a job-job. I was a high school English teacher in my pre-Washington life (and a damn good one, if I do say so myself!) But, now I'm a full time mom, pastor’s wife and Chief Community Volunteer. I volunteer at my kids’ school, I coach a soccer team, I’m leading a service trip to South Africa, I speak at conferences at our church…. A job-job would not permit me to keep those crazy commitments. So, I’m searching for the perfect job that would let me keep my current life the way it is. Stop laughing.

My dream is to write and get paid for it. That and change the world for free. I’m working on both crafts but, have been focusing on the former this fall. I’ve read books on marketing oneself and how to pitch your stuff to editors and how to tolerate massive amounts of rejection. Also have read the books on writing the most killer resume ever. Bear with me, this is all part of the back story of aging, I promise.

The easiest way to get paid for the penned word is copywriting. So, I decided to try my hand at it and found a few web sites that act as the middle man between writers and clients. They find the work, which is half the battle, and then hire you to write really boring copy for them. I took the bait and signed up. They were promising 20 cents a word, which is a REALLY good rate for writing boring copy. I wrote my little heart out about topics such as “Understanding Financial Responsibility Law” and “Including Pet Coverage in Auto Insurance Policies.” According to my calculations, I was about to receive an $800 check. And then, I enlarged the print on my screen. What I thought said 20 cents a word, ACTUALLY said $.02 a word. That's right, I COULDN'T SEE THE 0 in front of the 2. People, that is 2 pennies per word. My check shrunk before my eyes. Instead of $800 for 10 hours of work, I would be paid $80.

I have an appointment with the eye doctor next week.

No Risk, No Reward

Last week, my husband jumped out of an airplane.

For a sermon illustration.

He's done lots of things for sermon illustrations. He has used real fire and real chain saws to drive a point home. He uses the verbal illustration most often. He talks about me, his kids, and his friends in sermons all the time. He once tattled on me to the whole congregation, claiming that I was a cusser, a foul mouthed human being. The congregation laughed and I had to answer a thousand questions about the incident in the hallways after the service. In my defense, I uttered one small word (not even a really bad one) in front of my kids and they delighted in repeating it over and over. They told daddy and a sermon illustration was born. I must not here that sometimes the stories in his messages are stretched the ever most teensiest bit.

This time, though, the point he was trying to get across could not be done from the safety of a stage or from behind a pulpit. The message was too big, too risky, too important. He called me week before the stunt and I could tell something important was on his mind.

"Hey babe," he said.

"Hey."

"How's your day going? Are you having a good day?"

"Yes. I am...Why do you ask?"

"Well, um...I was wondering what you'd think if I jumped out of an airplane...."

"HUH? Wow. Well, someday I think that would be fine."

"Friday, I want to skydive on Friday."

I was dumbfounded but, excited for him. We're generally a risk taking family. We do roller coasters, we hike, we do marathons and triathlons. Skydiving was way riskier than any of these things but, I said it would be OK as long as I could be there.

After all, someone would have to collect his broken bones if the chute didn't open.....

So, Friday, the kids and I traveled to the airport with Mike to watch him fling himself willingly from a perfectly good airplane. Here's a quick snapshot of paragraph 2 of the waiver he had to sign.

In case you can't read it, it says "Jumping out of an airplane is a very dangerous thing to do. Please do not ever say that we told you skydiving is safe. It is not." It goes on to list the different injuries one can sustain from skydiving, "broken legs, angles, wrists or fingers," "death from hitting the ground too hard."

So he signed it and boarded the airplane after we read this quote on the wall,

The kids and I watched his plane take off, watched it disappear in the clouds, and watched a tiny white speck plummet toward the earth. I was mostly calm. At least that's what my kids would tell you. Inside I was desperately trying to quiet the raving lunatic telling me that I would never see my husband in one piece again.

When the parachute deployed we could see and hear him clearly. He made it down safely and I was able to breathe normally again. You can watch the video below.

RISK! from Overlake Christian Church on Vimeo.

So, why did he jump? What was the point he was trying to prove? Overlake is heading into a huge, mind blowing vision campaign. The campaign itself is not mind blowing but, it's goals are. Goals like 1,000 slaves set free, 2,000 orphans adopted into loving families, 1,000 churches planted, 50 Community Health Centers to combat HIV/AIDS......

We're asking our congregation to give of themselves in a way that many of them never have. We're asking them to take this risk with us and give of their time and resources in sacrificial, radical ways. We're asking them to trust God.

These things, my friends, are why I let my husband jump out of an airplane.

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Godmobile

This past weekend we went to the fair. There’s always a salt of the earth kind of quality to state fairs. They draw a colorful crowd to say the very least. My favorite part is the food (actually that’s the only reason I agree to go): fried twinkies, hot scones, grilled corn on the cob, kettle corn, elephant ears, giant turkey legs, and the latest creation, chocolate covered bacon. I didn’t make that last one up.

We walked around taking in the sights, deciding which neon carnival ride would make us feel brave and daring but the least ill, and avoiding a few seedy characters I’m pretty sure I saw on America’s Most Wanted. Does anyone else wonder how safe rides operated by toothless meth users are? We toured the livestock barns, got to pet some piglets, and decided that of all the barns, the swine barn smelled the absolute worst.

Toward the end of the night, we happened upon a little trailer called the “Godmobile.” In big read letters, it read “Are you going to Heaven? Free two question test reveals the answer!” I immediately felt irritated with the Godmobile. Before I begin the rant, let me say that I’m sure that the intentions of the Godmobile creators and its staff were good. They want people to know God. I also want people to know God.

But, I have to question the basic methodology. The Godmobile isn’t coming at evangelism from a place of love or grace or relationship. It begins with a gimmicky scare tactic and a not so subtle threat of eternal condemnation. What on earth is attractive about that? I watched people walking by pointing, laughing, and shaking their heads. I could almost read their thoughts. “Another nut job Christian.” I wanted to chase after them and shout, “Not all of us are like that! Not all Christians want to judge you and condemn you! Come to my house for coffee! Let’s have a beer!” I continued to watch the Godmobile for the next 10 minutes and no one, I mean no one, got in line to take the free test.

I really believe that HOW we represent Christ matters. I’m sure the Godmobile staff entered into a few good conversations with people at the fair. But, I wonder how many more people were turned off to the idea of following Christ. How much damage was done?

Many of you who read this blog know that I’m a Christian, a pastor’s wife even. I follow Christ, not out of fear, obligation, or intimidation. I follow him because I have been profoundly changed by the grace and love I have found in my relationship with him.

So, I’m curious to know your thoughts on the Godmobile…….

Discuss…..

Sometimes Justice is Hard to Calculate.....

Last week in Phoenix, an eight year old girl was brutally gang raped. The perpetrators had no elaborate scheme or meticulous cover up. No real plan. They simply decided one day to lure their little neighbor into a shed by offering her gum, hold her down and rape her for 10-15 minutes. They were immediately arrested at the scene of the crime, after another neighbor heard hysterical screaming and called the police.

The “gang” consisted of young boys, ages 9. 10, 13, and 14.

The victim and the perpetrators were all Liberian refugees. You can read the full story here.

After learning that their innocent daughter had been sexually assaulted, her family did the unthinkable. They disowned her. Instead of outrage at the perpetrators or a fierce desire to see justice done, the family embraced a cultural relic still present in many African and Middle Eastern countries that pronounces female rape victims Guilty, responsible for the violence they were powerless to fend off or flee from.

The father told a case worker and a policemen in her presence to “take her,” that he “didn’t want her back.” His daughter, bloodied, bruised, and severely traumatized had become, however implausible to most Americans, a symbol of cultural shame. Thankfully, the Phoenix Police Department is committed to seeking justice for this little girl, even while her family chooses to blame her.

The President of Liberia, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, involved herself personally upon hearing of the crime. She chided the girl’s family, beseeched them to seek counseling, and assured the world that Liberia is moving in a cultural direction that values women and decries sexual assault. She then asserted that the perpetrators, the young boys, have to pay the penalty, but we also want to make sure that they are counseled ... that they will have an opportunity to change and become useful citizens, not only in the United States but when they return home."

The 14 year old boy is being charged as an adult. The 9, 10 and 13 year olds are being charged as juveniles. Being charged as an adult means that the sentence will be harsher, longer, and the record permanent.

Delivering justice seems fairly straightforward at first glance. The perpetrators should pay. They should absolutely pay for their crimes. They should be harshly sentenced and given the maximum penalty. The victim was only 8 years old, after all. Then, one remembers something crucial and even more horrific; They are only little boys. Boys only a few years older than my own son. Boys, refugees, that were likely exposed to rape and sexual violence before arriving in the United States. It is highly likely that their childhoods were not filled with Sponge Bob, Toys R Us, good parenting, and sound moral teaching. As refugees, it is likely that these boys all but raised themselves. It is entirely possible that the boys were recruited as Liberian rebel soldiers.

These little boys, the perpetrators, are victims in their own rite. It is easy to imagine that the boys are suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Most refugees could be easily diagnosed with PTSD.

So, what’s a justice system to do? Should the goal be punishment, or rehabilitation? Sentencing or counseling? A combination of both?

Obviously, the little girl needs counseling and a family that will love her and introduce her to the Creator who restores all things broken. She has been wounded physically and emotionally in the most horrific way possible. I basically think she should come live with me. In all honesty, I’ve been having dreams about telling this little girl how valuable she is, how perfect, how pure. I OBVIOUSLY believe in adoption. More to follow on that….

Don’t these boys need the same thing? Wouldn’t the best thing be for their innocence to be restored? Shouldn't some one inform them of how valuable they are to the Creator?

The more important and pressing question is this: What is the Church to do? With the 8 year old rape victim, the little boy perpetrators, and Injustice everywhere?

I know this. Churches are EVERYWHERE. How does the Church mobilize to prevent this tragic story from enfolding in the FIRST PLACE?

I’m not offering any answers. Not just yet.

I’m extremely curious about what YOU have to say…….

She's a Pastor

Last night, one my closest friends officially became a pastor.

The elders, pastors, and leaders of our church were on hand to ordain Lynne and testify in public that she had gone above and beyond all the requirements necessary to earn the title. She has faithfully run our missions programs for 7 years, mentored countless people, taught classes and Bible studies, and, oh yeah, she just completed her Doctorate degree.

In truth, Lynne has been one of the most caring, qualified, passionate pastors I have ever met, for the last 25 years. Working in a variety of ministry settings, she has consistently labored to show people Jesus, to bring freedom from oppression and justice to the poor. She has sat in meetings, often the only woman present, and used her God given gifts of leadership in spite of the belief of some that women shouldn’t have a place at the table.

Nothing much will change about the way she ministers, now that the name plaque on her door can officially read “Pastor Lynne Ellis.” She’s always given it her all, regardless of the fact that the title was previously unavailable to her simply because of her gender. She ministered with passion and a fierce love of Jesus Christ because she understood that the calling on her life was from God, whether validated by an institution or not.

But, last night, with scores of friends, family, and church members in attendance, Lynne’s years of service were validated. My husband is the Lead Pastor at our church and, as he prayed over her, I wept. I wept because I was proud of my friend. I wept for the young women watching who witnessed a ceiling being blasted out of their lives. I wept for the old women watching who, while sighing deeply, had something healed in their hearts. And , I wept because I’m proud of my husband, who strongly, publicly, believes in women in leadership in the church.

My daughter (9) and Lynne’s daughter (4) sat together watching the service and cheering for Lynne. The girls stared up at Lynne, faces proud and smiling, totally unaware of what an historic day they were witnessing. To them, Lynne has always been a pastor. My son, Caleb, took in the scene as well, asking, “Mom, why are you crying?” I responded, “Because, buddy, I think Lynne does a really good job.” “Oh,” he said. “Cool.”

Lynne’s ordination is an important milestone for her but even more so for women in general. Her ordination repeals a cultural limitation and announces that women are valuable, that they can be leaders, and that God uses them in powerful ways. It also counters some misguided theology of several churches in our community here in the Northwest.

One male leader in particular frequently clarifies that the target of their ministries, the very reason they exist, is to reach lost men. He rails against a “chickified” church and insists Jesus would have spent his Saturdays watching football and drinking beer. I understand that men in Seattle need Jesus. I get it.

But, so do women.

As a woman who happened to be born with leadership skills, I feel hurt by this rhetoric, excluded and marginalized by it. It pains me to realize that in this particular church community, my gifts would not be valued or utilized to their fullest extent.

With Lynne’s ordination, I believe the message both men and women in our congregation and in the larger community will receive is this: There is a place for women at the table. Women are an essential part of our target audience. Jesus died for them, saves them, and empowers them with his Spirit to change the world. No ceilings. No limitations. Only freedom.

Mike read the following quotation from John Stott, an esteemed Christian theologian, during the ordination. "If God allows women with spiritual gifts (which he does), and thereby calls them to exercise their gifts for the common good (which he does), then the church must recognize God's gifts and calling, must make appropriate spheres of service available to women, and should 'ordain' (that is, commission and authorize) them to exercise their God-given ministry...Our Christian doctrines of creation and redemption tell us that God wants his gifted people to be fulfilled not frustrated, and his church to be enriched by their service."

Suffice it to say that I'm more than stoked to be part of Overlake Christian Church.

So, Lynne, I’m proud to call you my friend and even prouder to call you my pastor. Thank you for hanging in there and seeing this through. Thanks for inspiring my daughter, who I believe might just be President one day. J

The Journey Begins....

For some time now, Mike and I have have felt an undeniable pull toward adoption. For the last several years, however, our lives have been too consumed with church work, various crises, and parenting the 2 kids we already have, to thoroughly process what this meant.

Lately, however, this pull has become so strong, so magnetic, that ignoring it is no longer possible.

We have traveled overseas numerous times in the past 15 years to places like Kenya, South Africa, Venezuela, and Mexico. On each trip we encountered mind boggling poverty, orphans, innocent children without parents to advocate for them or provide emotional or spiritual guidance. Many of these children were well-cared for in orphanages, transition homes, and health centers. Many, however, were not.

With each trip, each new exposure to injustice, our hearts broke open a little wider. I began to have serious doubts that I was actually living out my faith in a practically compassionate way. Ignoring or over contextualizing James 1:27, "Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you," became increasingly more difficult.

A few months ago, we had lunch with an Indian minister named Pastor Gilbert who works with the poorest of the poor in the diseased, dirty, and often treacherous slums in his community. He and all his church staff have adopted street children. He challenged us saying, "Take in a child. If you don't have enough food on your table, or love in your heart, then I will quit my job."

And then, there were the friends and relatives who began adopting. Mike's brother, Mark, and his wife, Kristen, adopted our nephew from the Foster Care system in California. Our friend Lynne adopted a little girl from China. Our friends Dan and Kathleen, empty nesters in their fifties, adopted two little boys from the streets of Kenya. Our friends Josh and Neely are in the process of adopting a three year old girl from Ethiopia.


So, we're in.

We're following the crowd on this one.

After much prayer and discussion with each other and our kids, Mike and I have decided to become foster parents in the Foster-to-Adopt program in Washington State.

Alex and Caleb have each started sleeping on the top bunks in their rooms to leave an open place below for a new brother and sister. They pray every night for their new siblings. They've told all their friends.

And, now I'm telling the Internet. :)

We start our classes for certification in May.

Somehow I don't think Pastor Gilbert will need to quit his job.

Why this blog is called Sun Breaks....

We moved to Seattle in the summer.

We were prepared to trade the sunny surf of Southern California for the majesty of real mountains, tall trees, and the famously wet weather. Mike and I and our two small kids willingly left family, friends, ministry, and predictability to build a brand new culturally relevant church community in an area that equated spirituality with recycling.

When we pulled into the driveway of our new home, the skies of the Puget Sound were sunny, radiant and a more pristine blue than I had ever seen. For the first month, Mt. Rainier could be seen in all its glory nearly ever day.

I packed away the 47 umbrellas people had given us when me moved and wondered why Seattle had ever been referred to as “the rainy city.” Months later, the umbrellas were still in the closet as Seattle experienced a freakish winter drought.

Finally, Seattle weather returned from its cloudless prodigal journey and got its act together. The heavens opened up and the rains came. They came with unwavering perseverance and austere determination. I started reading the weather report every day. I became obsessed with weather terminology. I read somewhere that Eskimos had hundreds of different words for snow. The Seattle weatherman had about that to describe rain, clouds and gray. Rain, rain changing to showers, heavy rain, light rain, windy rain, drizzle, fine rain, freezing rain.


One day, while indulging my obsessive weather report checking, I came upon my favorite Seattle weather phrase, "sun breaks." When the sun peaks through the gray atmospheric blanket that covers the Puget Sound, Seattleites stop and notice. Eyes turn upward and life pauses. Fingers at Microsoft stop tapping keyboards, ferryboat passengers venture out on to the deck, drivers slow down, and even the tall evergreens seem to extend their branches toward the sun.

In the proverbial gray that occasionally blankets my life, there are distinct sun breaks, glimpses of hope and redemption that remind me of the Source of light and life, that give me pause to stop and notice.

So, welcome to my blog. It’s called Sun Breaks.

I hope you like it.

AWAKE '09

It's that time again! I would like to personally invite you to be a part of OCC's second annual women's event, AWAKE 2009, "Dangerous Faith!" Mark your calendars for March 6th and 7th!

Come get connected to the OCC community and learn how to begin living out a Dangerous Faith. If you have been a follower of Jesus for a long time or are just beginning the process of investigating faith, this is the event for you!

Although we are all women, we are a diverse bunch! Single, married, divorced, widowed, mother, career focused, young, old, strong, quiet, hurting∑.There is amazing strength in our diversity and when we come together to celebrate our uniqueness, amazing things happen!

Join me (Jodie), author/speaker Linda Vujnov , OCC's Lynne Ellis, and the AWAKE Worship Band for a weekend of fun and challenge as we take a look at what living a life fully awake and completely tuned in to God's call looks like! We have 3 main sessions and seven different workshops to choose from!

Invite a friend or neighbor! Register online today and you will receive the Early Bird discount Price! www.occfamily.org/events/events.asp

Because He Lives,

Jodie Howerton

Mean People Suck

I was driving down the freeway today, flitting in and out of traffic, trying to get my daughter to her Taekwondo tournament on time, when a large, black SUV suddenly zipped in front of me, nearly clipping my front bumper. Thankfully, I employed my cat-like reflexes, braking fast and maneuvering the steering wheel to avoid a collision. I may have muttered something about wanting the completely idiotic driver to meet my daughter in a dark alley so Alex could pulverize them with her spinning heel kick. I'm just saying.

As my heart rate returned to normal, I noticed a square bumper sticker on the SUV's rear window that read simply, "Mean people suck." Ironic that the Mean People Suck mantra is being carried by a rude SUV that cuts off littler cars and thinks it owns the road. I'm just saying.

For the rest of the car trip, I worked on forgiving the driver, imagining that he or she was in a mad rush to the hospital or a funeral, or the airport, thus justifying said crazy driving. When forgiveness was achieved, I actually began to resonate with the sticker.

In our ministry life, Mike and I encounter lots and lots of great people. People who are committed to growing closer to God and allowing Him to shine his light in the dusty, dark corners of their hearts. People who really want to change. People who are committed to living out Jesus' call to Love God, Love People, and Serve the World. Ministry would be so, so easy if everyone we encountered was like this. If everyone had it together. If everyone was just nice to us and to each other.

Then, there are people who are so blinded by their own wounds and their own fear, that they attack. They attack anything that makes them uncomfortable, anything that presses their buttons. A decor style, a minor theological ideal, a song choice, a joke, a political stance. And, like alcohol on a wound, it stings us. 

As I began to agree with the bumper sticker, that mean people really really suck, and that all mean people should just go live on an island together, I was smacked in the face with the full force of this realization: Jesus came for the mean people. "No," I tried to argue, "The mean people are not worth it. I mean, God, do you know how mean ____is? Did you see what she did? Am I the only one paying attention, here?" 

As my self-righteous soliloquy continued, I was again smacked in the face with another realization: I am mean. 

And, Jesus came for me.

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South Africa Mission: A Photographic Essay

I brought an amazing photographer with me on my trip to Durban, South Africa. Check out Kinsey Meredith Photography...

These images capture what words simply cannot...

A Healthy Fear of Elephants

Yesterday, to wind up our trip to South Africa, the team and I took a rest day and headed to the authentic African bush where we hoped to have our own personal Lion King experience.

When we entered the game reserve (called Hluhluwe) we immediately spotted a cobra crossing the road. I have an irrational and quite serious fear of snakes, so I did not join in the delight of the rest of the team. Still, I was excited about seeing elephants, lions, giraffes, zebra, leopards, baboons, monkeys, buffalo, warthogs, etc. We hired a guide to drive us around the park for 3 hours in an open air safari vehicle. We quickly saw all the above animals except for the elephants. The herd was elusive. That is, until we reached the very end of the tour. 10 minutes from our camp, cloaked in the pitch black darkness of night, we happened upon another safari vehicle driving in reverse with frightening speed. As it approached our vehicle, we could hear very clear, high pitched South African voices screaming,

"Go! Go Back! THERE'S AN ELEPHANT CHARGING AT US!!!"

We didn't see any elephants at first. Then, suddenly, the largest elephant I have EVER seen appeared in the darkness and was, indeed, charging straight for us. Our driver put it in reverse and we stepped on the gas. We had to navigate the windy, narrow, dirt road in the darkness at a speed that topped that of said ginormous elephant.

I cannot explain the terror one feels when being chased by an elephant. I could not say anything but, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus (not uttered in a swear word kind of way - rather, the desperate prayer kind of way).......and Dear God, Dear God, Dear God...."

Long story short, our vehicle and the unfortunate one in front of us (the elephant had tried to lift up their car with his tusks) out ran the elephant. We booked it for home as fast as we could until we came upon TWO RHINOS FIGHTING in the MIDDLE of the road. I AM NOT KIDDING. Now, angry rhinos are also known to charge poor, unsuspecting vehicles. At this point, I expanded my prayer vocabulary and said, "God, Seriously?" Our driver was able to scare them enough to get them out of the road. We kept on driving. Then, we happened upon MORE elephants. We blew by them without even pausing and made it home safely to our camp.

In 20 years of guiding people through the game park, our driver has had "elephant experiences" just 4 times.

It was an adventure, to say the very least. We head home tomorrow to the land where elephants are only in zoos and the HIV/ AIDS infection rate is extremely low. My prayer is that the comfort of home does not dilute the potency of our experiences and that the freshness of the memories will birth new action in us.

Heroes

For the last week and half, my team and I have been working for an organization in South Africa called Ithemba Lethu. We came to Africa armed with face paints, crafts, songs, inspiring talks, balloon animals, t-shirts and the hope that our presence would communicate to the Zulu kids living in shantytowns ravaged by poverty and HIV/ AIDS, that they were infinitely important to God.

We had no idea what to expect, no inkling of how our hearts would be ripped out and replanted in the poor community of Cato Manor. The children captured us. Most don't have enough food and go to bed hungry. Most have witnessed indescribable violence. Some have been raped. Many are HIV infected. We knew the statistics. We had heard the stories.

Nothing could have prepared us for meeting the children, the real faces behind the cold statistics. Smart, resilient, wise beyond their years, these children reflect the very face of God.

We came to minister to them, to help them, to inspire hope in their hearts. With the help of the dedicated Ithemba Lethu youth workers, I believe we built spoke life into the kids. I believe that the very presence of our team communicated to them that they have inifinite worth and value. I believe that the children did leave with more hope than before.

But, today, our hearts are broken. We fell in love with the children and leaving them today was painful.

We have a new set of heroes. And they're only 4 feet tall.

Checking in from SOUTH AFRICA

Hello wonderful readers!

My sincere apologies for not updating the blog...I'm in South Africa doing missions work and have not had computer access until today!

There are so many stories, so many things to share. And, I'm exhausted. So, I'm sending you to Kinsey's blog. She's our team photographer and has posted some great photos!

Our itinerary can be found on the previous blog post...
Thank you for your continued prayers!

Off to Africa!!!

I'm off to South Africa tomorrow morning! I'm hoping to blog from there!!! We appreciate your thoughts and prayers!



South Africa Missions Trip
December 2008
Overlake Christian Church
Team Members: Jodie Howerton, Lisa Diederchs, Natalie Teabo, Tami Duryee, Jonathan and Kelly McPherson, Kinsey Piscitelli

Thank you for your love and support. One of the MOST important things our team needs during our trip is your PRAYERS. Thank you for devoting time to pray for this trip to Durban, South Africa. Through being a PARTNER IN PRAYER, you can walk beside our team to bless us and lift us up as we encounter people who need compassion and care. The purpose of this trip is to provide assistance and support to the ministries of Ithemba Lethu, as well as serve the needs of community members impacted by the heartache and destruction of HIV/AIDS. To learn more about the organization we’ll be serving alongside, visit http://www.ithembalethu.org.za.

(1) PRAY FOR EACH TEAM MEMBER to be touched and moved and selflessly serve as God desires. May our hearts be broken in the ways God’s heart aches for the hurting. May we be compelled to act on behalf of those in need. May each team member return home forever changed and passionate about continuing to serve as God leads.

“The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives… to comfort all who mourn, and to provide for those who grieve… to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of despair…” Isaiah 61:1-3

(2) PRAY FOR OUR TEAM’S UNITY that together we might strengthen and support one another. May relationship come easy and unity be boldly experienced together as a team. May we break through the challenges of traveling with others to find the sweetness and honor of sacrificial service.

“Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive…as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts…Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom” Col. 3:12-16

(3) PRAY FOR SAFETY AND PROTECTION as we travel abroad and through Durban, South Africa. May we be kept free from danger and challenges that might distract from being most effective for the work God has provided for us to carry out during this time.

“Spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may rejoice in you. For surely, O Lord, you bless the righteous; you surround them with your favor as with a shield.” Psalm 5:11-12 / “Come and see what God has done, how awesome his works in man’s behalf! Praise our God, O peoples, let the sound of his praise be heard; he has preserved our lives, and kept our feet from slipping.” Psalm 66:5, 8-9

Below you will find a detailed list of specific prayer requests for each day we are in Durban, South Africa. A great way to remember to pray is to put this note on your refrigerator or somewhere where you will see it daily.

December 3rd – 4th
• Pray for safe travel. We are flying half way around the world today! Pray that we are able to get some sleep on the plane and for peace instead of anxiety during the flight.
• Pray for refreshing sleep on the 4th. Pray against exhaustion.
• Pray for our families at home

December 5th, 6th, 7th

• We begin ministry immediately on the 5th. Pray for energy, protection, and good connection with the 5th and 6th grade students we are mentoring.
• Pray for the program we are in charge of. Music, message, discussion groups, crafts……Pray that we adequately communicate how VALUABLE the children are to God.

December 8th
• Today we are taking the 12 babies from Ithemba Lethu’s transition home on 2 field trips. First to the beach, then to some botanical gardens. Pray that the regular house mothers are able to enjoy their day off and REST.
• Pray that our team is able to connect to the babies and communicate Jesus’ unconditional love to them.

December 9th, 10th, 11th,
• For these three days, our team is teaching a “Holiday Club” program for students in the township of Cato Manor, an impoverished “shantytown” community where HIV/AIDS infects upwards of 60% of the population.
• Pray for our safety protection and health as a team
• Pray that our teaching, singing, etc effectively communicate God’s love.
• Pray for connection with the students.
• Pray against exhaustion and illness.
• Pray that the students are able to encounter Jesus in a life changing way.
• Pray for our organization, that the program runs smoothly.
• Pray for good communication between our team members.



December 12th
• Today is a rest and debrief day. Pray that we are rejuvenated and refreshed!

December 13th
• Today, we spend at Ithemba Lethu’s transition home, helping out with various service projects. Pray that our efforts help aid the ministry of Ithemba Lethu!

December 14th
• Two members of our team head home today. Pray for their safe travel!
• The rest of the team will drive to a game park to view some wild animals. Pray for safety and rejuvenation.

December 15th, 16th
• Team heads for home. Pray for safe travels.

Rethinking Christmas

Halloween is over, which nowadays means that stores, malls and gas stations are decorating for Christmas. I'm pretty sure the mall is not just trying to make the blessed advent season more meaningful for the general public. Instead, retailers market the message that Christmas is about stuff. Lots and lots of stuff. Buy enough stuff and spend enough money, and the magical meaning of Christmas will materialize in your lap and you can put it in a fruitcake for your neighbor. Christmas has become a frenzied, stressful, selfish holiday that puts millions of American in serious debt.

Christmas now looks nothing like the first Christmas. The first celebration of Christmas happened in a dirty stable, with smelly animals and a teenage couple living just above the poverty line. Hope entered the world, not with tinsel, a collection of Santa Claus statues, snowmen, or mechanical reindeer, but in the form of a helpless baby.

This year, I'm putting my foot down. And, so is my church. Check out this video and join me. Overlake is challenging it's people to BUY ONE LESS GIFT and donate the money to world AIDS relief. ONE LESS GIFT. Personally, I'm going to buy a lot less gifts. And, if you're planning on buying for me, DON'T. I don't need any more socks, slippers, or gift cards to Starbucks. I want the babies I'm visiting in South Africa this December to have treatment for HIV, books, toys and families.

And, we wonder why they think we're freaks...

Seriously awesome Christian music (wish you could hear my sarcasm).

Hot Topics

The latest series at our church.....

Politics, Abortion, Pornography, Homosexuality, Oprah........AND JESUS. Enough controversy for a reality TV Show (not that I watch those, I mean...really, how ridiculous...seriously....)

This is stuff we SHOULD be talking about at church. We delight in blowing stereotypes about Christianity out of the water.

We don't mess around. Come check it out. We have free coffee.
Click here for more details.....

Neighbor

My friend, Glenda, a South African native, whom I visited last year on a missions trip, is here and staying with us for three months. She runs an INCREDIBLE organization called Ithemba Lethu. I feel so lucky. She is a living example of Jesus' call to "Love your neighbor as yourself." She works on the front lines of the HIV/AIDS crisis in Durban, South Africa - rescuing babies orphaned by HIV/ AIDS, educating the children of the township in her community about HOW VALUABLE THEY ARE TO GOD. She is passionate about her ministry and totally devoted to the idea that when Jesus commissioned his followers to love their neighbors, that he was not, in fact, kidding.

Glenda's arrival is timely, especially in light of this election year. Her presence has reminded me of some very important truths.

Jesus saves. Literally. There are 12 orphans in the care of Ithemba Lethu that have been plucked out of destitution and given a new destiny. Jesus saved these kids through the work of his church, his followers, his people who decided to take His commands seriously. Useless political ideology did not save these kids. Obedient Christ-followers did.

The kids involved in the education program have seen unspeakable tragedy. Rape. Death. Intense Poverty. Infection. When new students enter the Ithemba Lethu club on public school campuses, the youth leaders who are charged with directly communicating God's love through counseling sessions, home visits, and teaching, do the following activity.

Leader picks up a 100 Rand note (approximately $9.00). This is more money than the kids have ever seen at one time. He asks, "How much is this worth?" The kids, just chomping at the bit with excitement, shout out,

"100 Rand, 100 Rand!"

The youth worker then crumples the money into a ball and says,

"How much now?"

"100 Rand, 100 Rand!"

He then spits on the note and tosses it to the floor.

"How much now?"

The kids begin to look worried but say,

"Still 100 Rand."

The youth worker aggressively stomps on the note and says quietly,

"How much now."

"Still 100 Rand."

Youth worker picks up the 100 Rand note, straightens it out and cleans it off.

"No matter what has happened to you. No matter what you have seen. You are more valuable to Jesus Christ than all the money in the world."

Funky

This summer, I have been in a funk. Not every day, not every waking moment. But, I have consistently been feeling down. The thing about being in a funk is that Newton's law of inertia applies. You know, things that are in motion tend to stay in motion unless acted upon by an outside force. So, the more funkified I feel, the easier it is to to continue spiraling down the ladder of funkedupness. When I'm wearing my funky glasses, everything looks dim. Every interaction seems intended to offend me. Every resentful thought I have feels justified. Alternately, guilt about my poor performance as a person/ Christian/ mother/ wife/ friend sets in. I descend down one more rung of the ladder.

No people, this is not PMS.

Why am I feeling down? Who knows. There are a host of reasons I'll not detail on my blog for the world to dissect. My point in disclosing this funk is that yesterday I realized I was the only one who could extract myself from it. Many of you are probably thinking, "Hmm, isn't God the only one that can actually help you here?" Technically, spiritual people, you are right. But, here's the problem. In my funkiness, I actually avoid God. I know, I know... a pastor's wife avoiding God? A pastor's wife not feeling spiritually fulfilled? Houston, we have a problem! Truth is, God is the only one that can save me from myself. But, if I'm intentionally removing myself from his presence to continue the charade of justification-of-my-bad-attitude, then there's not much He can do, given his gift of free will to humanity.

Soooo, my plan is this. Do nothing. Sit quietly and let Jesus love me. Basically, just stop. Apparently charging ahead alone is not really working for me. This is a lesson I have to learn over and over again. I know we're all in process, all at different mile markers in the race. Right now, I'm at the hydration station getting some fuel for the rest of the race.