Uphill in Chiapas

“If I don’t come back, just know I’m with the Lord.”  That’s what our team leader said.  Rain had made our road muddy.  Our vehicles could not carry the 30 of us, plus our equipment, to the top of the hill.  Our wheels sank in the mud, and in the vast darkness we could not determine a route to walk.  Only one path seemed open, and a somber tone hovered throughout.  Our leader declared he would seek help alone, directing us to follow orders of his second in command.  Danger was imminent, as this was Zapatista territory, and we had met opposition already.  One man that morning was not happy about our request to cross his land in order to visit our small church, though he did eventually grant us permission.  Now our medical clinic had finished for the day.  We had folded up the tarps and tables and cots and our makeshift dental chair from Home Depot.  We had repacked our many tubs of medicine and supplies for doctoring.  The concrete slab of the church building would provide dry ground for our wait.  We prayed for our leader’s safekeeping, and streams of tears ran down my face to realize the seriousness of it all.  For those who chose to sing, their lyrics now offered a deeper hope that filled the room possibly serving as our sleeping quarters till daylight.  We could recount our days together:  puppet shows that entertained all ages, preaching that compelled many, and clinics that drew people to walk for hours to find medical care.  To my amazement, I felt no fear that night.  I wondered if in the United States we would be as compassionate as the church hosts who sweetly stayed beside us those late hours.  Our leader did return, and with immense thankfulness we realized the Lord’s great power to protect.  With some big flashlights now, we unloaded the medical supplies we had just finished packing and walked them piece by piece up the hill in order to reduce the carrying weight of our vehicles.  Back and forth we traipsed, and the Lord did give our empty vehicles passageway to the top, despite the mud.  In a few hours, we were asleep in the city, unconcerned till the next day that our stomachs were starting to growl for food.  I loved the Lord for His wonderful care of us, and I had caught a glimpse of Him at work in Mexico.

On the fly, but not really

I like to feel prepared.  I like to feel equipped for the job.  Yet I often land in the opposite circumstance.  God keeps giving me things I don’t know how to do and things I don’t want to do.  The Lord called me to teach school, and He gave me a choir class.  I’d taken some education courses for teaching English, but here came music.  I’d never officially studied voice, and I took piano lessons only a short time in elementary school.  Soon I found myself to be the only piano player within miles, and I had several ensembles with complicated accompaniments and still more high school solos sprouting around.  And as for teaching English, though I did have some training, English wasn’t even close to being my favorite subject.  On top of that, writing can be painfully laborious for me, and I’m a slow reader.  When the Lord called me to publish a book, I had to dive into a new world that didn’t look attractive.  I knew little about publishers and even less about the details of formatting and illustration and cost.  Unconfident of my own writing, I hesitated.  Each of these scenarios required prayer and patience and practice, and all 3 go against the human grain.  I love to learn, but it’s different when somebody besides me assigns the task.  Maybe for a change, I’d like to choose the what, when, and how.  But truthfully, when I step back to view the whole picture, I love letting God lead.  His projects have bigger scope and greater blessing.  In actuality, I am prepared for the tasks He gives me.  The Lord gives lots of on-the-job training.  With each new task, I’m mentally fatigued at first to realize I’m headed down another new road, but then I realize my role is still primarily to know Him.  He will order the steps.  Know the Lord through the Bible, and pray.  Be patient, and stay alert.  It’s not a formula but rather His way of letting me live out my faith.  I’ve experienced Him transforming my anxiety and fear into peace.  He has changed my dread into eager anticipation.  Even if I feel like I’m flying loosely into new situations, I’m actually prepared.  My preparedness is in knowing Him.  Proverbs 3:5-6

The invitation

People could yell at me.  They could think I’m weird.  They could slap me in the face for mentioning the name of Jesus Christ.  Plenty of people hated Jesus then, and plenty of people hate His name now.  But there’s blessing in offering an invitation.  The possibility of someone’s life being saved outweighs the risk of any flak flying my way.  When I invite friends to study the Bible, sometimes they decline.  But a sense of contentment comes with inviting.  Sometimes we’re the first link in the chain.  We invite people who come, and then they invite a subsequent group of friends who come.  Once my husband invited a neighbor to church.  The neighbor didn’t come.  Then a second invitation and a third.  When our neighbor eventually visited church, I felt like a party was happening in my heart.  Really the thrill was for the neighbor’s sake, though I was dancing too.  One time a friend came with me to Bible study.  She saw a poster on the wall and asked, “What’s that?”  The poster spelled the name Jesus.  It registered with me that this friend asked what, not who.  And consequently, may I never take invitations lightly.  We wonder, “What if people get mad?”  “What if they say ‘No’?”  Are we more concerned with pleasing God or pleasing people?  There’s validity in both, but which takes priority?  I should be able to hear the word no.  Actually much is revealed about us in the way we handle the word no.  I’m ready for the worst and hopeful for the best. 

A quest toward Spanish

God sent me a friend.  Maybe you’re thinking, What’s the big deal?  Doesn’t everybody have friends?  The big deal was the timing.  I sat in my little blue cloth-covered chair at church and felt frustrated by my inability to understand the Spanish language.  Even as recently as the previous week the Lord gave me enough Spanish to converse with a college student at a bus transit center, so certainly I had vivid recollection of how He meets needs, yet somehow this Sunday I still fell victim to frustration.  Temptation took hold, and I was almost in tears.  But hold on a minute because here comes my friend.  I pictured the Lord saying, “Hang on, Linda.  I’m sending help.  I’m sending you a friend with a sweet smile and kindness that overflows.  She’ll guide you in your learning of Spanish, and you’ll even get to sing with her “Dame Tus Ojos,” which I know you’ve wanted to do.”  And what happened was really quite amazing.  As soon as our pastor offered a closing prayer, up the aisle walks my friend.  Yes, I already knew her.  Yes, I would enjoy talking with her any day of the week.  But because my heart did hurt and my brain was on overload, all the more I welcomed this friend’s footsteps in my direction.  I had felt lost in the language that surrounded me, and the Lord sent me a lifeline.  On this day, His timing was impeccable once again.  Hardly did I have the presence of mind to pray, yet how prompt was His rescue.  “Dame Tus Ojos” [Give Me Your Eyes] held new application, as He set my eyes on His provision.