Walk the Walk

I was bounding down the mountain. As my family can attest to, I like hiking, but my favorite part is usually the descent which I like to do... rather quickly. My attitude toward going down a mountain is- "Why fight gravity?"

My team had been up in Bridhim, a small mountain village located thousands of feet up in the stunning mountains of Nepal. We were working out details for an upcoming program. It had been a productive day. And I was really enjoying the perfect weather as we headed back down the mountain toward the road. This village is only accessible by foot in a climb that is not for the faint of heart.

Bridhim can be seen through the Buddhist prayer flags at this halfway point up the mountain

As I rounded the corner following my co-worker Tom, I saw a group of people standing in the path ahead- well, blocking the path ahead was my first thought. I could tell a lively conversation was going on and as I continued forward I was taking in the environment trying to figure out what was going on. I looked around and saw some materials lying around and I figured the group had stopped to take a break while traveling up the mountain. I had seen CGI (corrugated galvanized iron) all along the path, so I knew people had been working on carrying it up. Something was different in this scenario though, and I felt this sense that something was going on. All of this is darting through my mind in seconds as we came closer to the group and suddenly- reality sinks in as my pulse picks up and my body tenses.

A person was lying on the ground.

Within milliseconds of this realization my immediate reaction was scanning for- yes, there it was- an injury. An elderly man was lying across the path leaned against a rock. A pool of blood was on the path and blood was covering part of his head and face. The group didn't seem to know what to do as they were gathered around but doing more discussing than wound dressing. As soon as we reached them- and as my mind was spinning through all this information processing, Tom and I both immediately took off our backpacks and began pulling out whatever first aid materials we had. Suddenly, I was so thankful that I decided in my last trip to REI that I needed to buy a first aid kit and that I had been lugging it around on each hike that I'd done in Nepal... now I just have to figure out what exactly was in it.

As we are working on cleaning the gash, the rest of our team arrived (not everyone approaches descending a mountain with such... vigor). In the process we were realizing that there was no way we could give the treatment that was really required. The closest health post is in Bridhim... from which we had just come halfway back down the mountain. On top of that, the health worker was gone on holiday. I looked at my leader and explained my concerns. The gash had to be properly cleaned and must have stitches. I was afraid if we left him to be carried home, he would not receive the treatment he needed leading to a serious infection. We knew what needed to happen- he needed to come with us back to our town, about an hours drive to the hospital. With the rest of our team had arrived a couple of our guys who could translate and they began explaining. Up to this point, Tom and I had just jumped into action without even being able to converse with the group.

My concern was growing that they would choose not to come with us. The man had become much more alert and had even sat up a little. We waited for his family to be brought down from their home to decide what to do. As we stood there, it dawned on me how much this scene was shaping up like Jesus' story of the Good Samaritan. In nearly 5 years of working with Samaritan's Purse, I have never found myself right in the middle of a story that felt so similar to our namesake Scripture.

We had come across a stranger in need of physical help. He was not our neighbor in the sense of proximity, culture or even being able to speak the same language- but it wasn't even a thought in our minds to walk by or even to leave him there with only meager treatment. We weren't trying to be spiritual, we were just reacting in a spirit of compassion and love for someone hurting and in need of help. As much as this was hitting me in a wave of overwhelming realization, it was what happened next that I don't think will ever leave me.

When the daughter (I'm assuming) arrived and we explained the situation, the decision was made to get him down the rest of the mountain to our car. The guys that had been there with the man helped him to his feet and then one hoisted him onto his back and began to carry him down the mountain. The two guys took turns carrying him. We reached another house along the way and the ladies brought a piece of material that could be tied around him for extra support. One of the men stopped his work on the house and joined the the other two.

As we descended this steep and at times slippery path down the mountain, these three guys took turns carrying the elderly man on their backs. This was such a picture of love to me. Some of those guys may have been related to the man, but not all of them were relatives. They did know Christ, this was a strongly Buddhist society, but as I looked at them exhausting themselves to help this man, I saw the love of Christ in them.

This wasn't exactly the parable of the Good Samaritan, but Jesus' teaching of love for your neighbor- whether it's who you would picture as your neighbor or not, was demonstrated right in front of me. I will not be able to read/hear that story in the Bible again without seeing this day in my mind.

In the years of working with SP, I have heard and talked about the parable many times. Just the other day I actually had a girl walk up to me and ask where the name Samaritan's Purse came from and I was able to tell her a Bible story! I've talked the talk, but this day God gave me the opportunity to be a part of walking the walk- in a way that felt almost like stepping into the story in a modern context.

We got the man and his daughter to the hospital in our town, made sure they had what they needed and our contact information if they needed anything else. The day after we had our driver take them back home.

Many times you will hear people talk about God's timing in having them in just the right place at just the right time. I am overwhelmed to have been in the middle of it on this day.

God's love for us is great and overwhelming.

Catch & Release

Yesterday was my sister's birthday, and it seems to be an occurrence every year that strikes at my heart wherever I am in the world. It is a reminder to me of home and of family and of those roots that can at times feel cut off when you are living the life of international relief and disaster response. As I was browsing through photos on my laptop today on my day off, it struck me the life I lead these days, and today it actually feels like a sacrifice.

Many times when I think and talk about what I do, I do not feel like I am making a sacrifice. Following where I feel the Lord moving me I get to see Him at work around me and in me. I have met incredible people and been a part of amazing work from the Philippines to Vanuatu to Nepal. I have made friends from all over the world. Just the other day a guy in my office said- 'You have friends posting on Facebook right now?'- and I laughed and said, well yea, I have friends all over the world not just in the US time zone. There is great fulfillment and many blessings involved when you are following God's call.

Recently, my life feels so transient though. The length of my assignments lately have been short- I've been in 3 countries outside of the US this year. My time in Vanuatu was only 2 months and my time in Nepal will only be 3 months. While a part of me loves the constant change, a part of me also desires longer relationships and connections to people and places. When I am in the field I miss home- but not in a sense of something that I can always return to- I miss a home that I walked away from a couple of years ago when I left my full time job and took my first contract in the field. A home where I had stability and friends and my own apartment and a church community. Now I feel like I walk in and out of people's lives on a constant basis.

Sometimes it feels a bit like fishing. You commit time in a place, waiting- casting your lines and you start to connect. You finally feel that line tug and you pull in a great fish, but just as soon as you do, it's time to return it to the water, setting it free and moving on - casting your line again.

As God continues to lead me, I know that I will be in different places for different amounts of time. It is not always going to be easy- sometimes the challenge may actually be staying longer than I have grown accustomed to, but I know that if it's God's will that I desire for my life, then whether the going is easy or the going is hard, He is with me and will guide me and grow me. Feeling the sting of home that is gone for now reminds me of the importance of investing in the place and the people that I am surrounded with, wherever I go, for whatever amount of time.

You may desire the 'adventure life' of traveling and being apart of a bigger version of the world than where you are now. You may be perfectly content in the stability of life where you are now. Wherever you are and whatever you're facing today, I challenge you to pray about where you are in God's will and what He may be asking you to do. I also challenge you to consider the people and the place surrounding you. Are you truly connecting and investing in what's around you?

Here am I, Send Me

I don't remember the first time I heard the passage where God calls Isaiah, but I do remember how I've always felt about it. God asks, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" And Isaiah decisively replies "Here am I. Send me!"

I've always felt so inspired by this. It's a power passage- I've always wanted to be that one that jumps forward and says- 'Right here- me, look no further, I'm ready to go'. It sounds great right? Well, I always read it and wanted to be Isaiah- ready to go for the Lord. 

What it takes to stand before the call of the Lord and say- 'it's me you're looking for' is faith. 

Lately faith has been on my mind a lot and I feel like I'm learning a bit more about it. Faith is such a common term when you grow up going to church. It becomes so constant that it almost feels basic and easy to overlook. 

As my time came to a close in the Philippines, I was faced with the decision to stay there or to return home. I really struggled with the decision. Thinking of returning the States felt like turning away from the call of "Whom shall I send?" At the same time though, I felt like I was actually being called to a step of faith, to return to the States trusting that God had another plan ahead. There's a reason why the Bible talks about following by faith and not by sight. Faith is all about being blind and moving forward anyway.

Not to be dramatic, but it felt a bit like that moment where Indiana Jones was looking into this crazy canyon and he was supposed to leap out into it. "Only in the leap from the lion's head will he prove his worth." Ok, so it wasn't nearly that dramatic, but returning jobless to the States was not the most comfortable choice and left me reminding myself that I needed to trust God. And thus, this round of learning more about faith began.

After being back for about a month, I was beginning to come to the end of my to do list. I was strictly trying to avoid thinking about what was coming next, but let's be honest- I think down the road quite a bit. I looked at options and was praying about what I should be doing, but nothing was becoming clear. Then, one Saturday morning at 5 o'clock, I got a phone call. I looked at my phone trying to figure out why on earth it was making noise and in complete sleep confusion, I swatted the call. Fortunately, the second time my phone went off I was lucid enough to actually answer it and the question came- Can you get on a plane today?

On March 13, Tropical Cyclone Pam slammed the island country of Vanuatu in the Pacific. On Saturday the 14th, I once again decided to answer here am I, send me. Not knowing what exactly was ahead I stepped out- ready to go.

When I arrived on Tanna Island, one of the hardest hit in Vanuatu, I stepped into a site that was beginning to look a bit familiar. The damage that cyclones and typhoons bring to communities is becoming recognizable to me- but that does not mean that it does not have impact. Trees looked like they had been turned upside down with roots growing toward the sky instead of into the ground. The leaves and greenery of the bush had been beaten off by winds and heavy rain. Branches were broken and the state of shelters and buildings ranged from roofs missing to nothing left but a concrete pad. Need was evident- everywhere you looked you could see it. And not only were shelters damaged, but crops were damaged. This is not a culture where you just go to the store and pick up whatever you want- here you grow what you live on in your own garden. In a day, all of it was gone. Most people only had food supplies that would last a week, maybe two.

As I've been here working, I've been reading Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secret (at least whenever I've had time to read- which I'll admit has not been often)- talk about lessons in faith. As Hudson Taylor prepared to work in China and started  his time there, he went through many lessons of faith in God- times where he could do nothing but trust that God would work things out with big and small issues/needs.

Everyday I work with people who have lost a lot- or everything. While casualties were very low here, and Vanuatu fell out of the media attention very quickly, there are still so many that need shelter and food and just basic things.

It's amazing to be a part of meeting peoples needs. Over the month that I've been here, I've been a part of distributing tarps, blankets, jerry cans, hygiene kits and cooking kits, working with a medical team to bring care to those far from the hospital (one- that serves 5 islands) and most recently- distributing food.

There's a part in the book I've been reading where Hudson Taylor is trying to explain what God was teaching him at one point and he just couldn't put it into words. I feel that way about what I've been learning here. I've actually been avoiding trying to write because I just couldn't put it into words.

To work in the middle of such pain, I've learning a different perspective of God and His love and following Him in faith. Through trials and challenges, we learn a different depth of God's love. It's not that He doesn't love us when bad things happen- in fact sometimes, in the midst of that struggle- He will bring people from 7 different countries right to your home.

I've by no means learned everything there is to learn about faith- particularly faith in the midst of trials. I feel like I am only beginning to stick my toe into that ocean of knowledge, and the more that I learn, the more I realize there is that I do not know.

There is risk and sacrifice involved in saying 'Here am I. Send me!' You step forward into the unknown- often blindly trusting that even though you have no idea about, well quite a lot, God has things under control and can still use you. There are also great rewards as you become a part of what God is doing- you see Him at work and you learn and grow. Faith steps aren't always leaps from the lion's head- sometimes it is a call at 5am- asking you follow into the middle of pain and disaster, but sometimes it is small daily decisions, or just opening your eyes out of your normal routine to look and see where God is working around you and realizing that he is calling "Whom shall I send?"

When was the last time you took a leap from the lion's head?

Walking the Streets of Destruction

I have spent the last year hearing stories of the survivors of Typhoon Yolanda. They have talked about evacuating and returning to destroyed homes, staying in their homes and having it crumble around them, loss, pain, need.

A year of hearing about this devastating event and how they have struggled to recover has not hardened my heart to their pain.

Yolanda set the bar extremely high for storms in the Philippines. Ruby has been compared to Yolanda in every way: in strength, in size, in direction and in devastation. Some people have even written the storm off because- well it wasn’t nearly as bad as Yolanda.

This week I stood amongst the rubble of Laah’s house as she said, "Yolanda was not the worst. This was the worst for me."

Just days after the storm, I walked into a community that I had been to in July. I remember the community as being a really cute little barangay. Walking the streets there were beautiful flowers around people’s homes and occasionally you could see a break through the homes to carabao resting by rice fields spreading out in the brightest green splendor.

I couldn’t even recognize the community.

On the team with me was Michael, who had been with me through this community before. The look on his face reflected the expression that I could feel on my own. It was a mixture of shock and blankness as we took in what we saw.

Floods and mud had completely changed the atmosphere. Homes were completely gone, trees were down, the road was at some places completely filled with debris- much of it the remains of homes. Belongings were everywhere, everything encased in mud. Some houses still stood while others leaned a bit precariously, left unstable by the force they had withstood.

Ruby was the worst typhoon this community had experienced.

Our team had just distributed tarps and within an hour families were putting them up for shelter. As we walked through people thanked us for being there and thanked us for the relief supplies that we had just given. Looking around, it felt like so little compared to what these families needed.

Watching the Filipinos in the last year has taught me of their resilience and strength, of their faith and determination, and of their ability to carry on and rebuild. It gives me hope for those that have now been devastated by Ruby. While it seems hopeless now, they will continue forward, help will come, and hope will not be lost.

I am glad to have been a part of bringing help and hope to theses battered communities. They remain in my prayers as their struggles are just beginning. Livelihoods along with homes have been lost and there is a long road to recovery ahead. 

A Storm Is Coming

I wish the title was a metaphor, but unfortunately it is very much reality.

Almost a month after the Philippines remembered the devastation of Super Typhoon Haiyan/Yolanda one year ago, another typhoon has built up off the coast.

Winds howling, rain coming down so hard it's painful, CGI & debris flying by, walls crumbling, structures failing and water rising... these are just some of the memories that are now haunting the survivors of Yolanda.

And not just these, the loss of home and belongings, not knowing if your family is alive, watching those you love get pulled away in a flood, climbing and clinging to higher places, praying that you will be spared, walking through a devastated community, going hungry for days with only spoiled rice to eat, all of this and more are raising a panic in regions that are still trying to recover from the last hard hit.

Fear is everywhere.

I walked around Tacloban tonight looking for coffee. When I came to one of the regular places, it was all closed closed up. Across the street, the very popular bubble tea place was empty, and not just of people, all of the tables, chairs and couches were gone. On the corner, the cafe was closed, metal shutters pulled down in front of it.

Coming from North Carolina, I'm familiar with boarding up and battening down the hatches as hurricanes approach. Most people here are the same, but the scars of underestimating a storm are just barely healing. Survivors of the storm began rebuilding so quickly that many of them were slow to begin processing and healing emotionally.

My team is here to support the Philippines. We are making preparations, and our staff has been awesome! But, in some ways I feel helpless to ease the anxiety and panic that is rising. There are some times that only God can bring a peace and a comfort, and this is one of those times. So I pray, and I ask others to pray as well.

One of our staff posted this yesterday to Facebook: "My mind gets fogged with all the bitter memories I had of Haiyan. I couldn't help it. But I cannot succumb to worrying, it does nothing. It does not help one bit. Instead I will pray and prepare. I will be still and know that God is stronger. I will remind myself that I am not helpless. My help comes from the LORD the maker of the heavens and earth."

This morning while leading staff devos, one of our ministry team said this: "My Dad told me, 'Son, we did not survive (Yolanda) because we were good at hiding. We survived because God is a great God.'"

I am so humbled and inspired by the Filipinos that I get to work with. We are facing a storm together, but they are also facing trauma and painful memories. Through it all though, we rely on the same God, and he is a great God.

Please pray for the Philippines.

(this isn't Hagupit/Ruby)

Mountains and Molehills

Perseverance.

Just let that sink in. Perseverance.

What do you think of when you read it? It sounds inspiring. Do you get pumped up? It sounds heroic, like there's a good story there. It sounds like triumph. It sounds like finishing the race. It sounds like conquering. It sounds like something I want.

The ironic thing about it, is that there are times when you need it most, and in those moments, you don't want it.

Have you ever faced this? As long as life is good and you're making it alright with no particular challenges or weights dragging you down, then perseverance sounds like a great thing.
It's when you feel stretched, stressed, frustrated, discouraged and tired, that's when perseverance is needed, and that's when you want quite the opposite. Suddenly it's not inspiring. Suddenly it's not heroic. Suddenly you don't like the sounds of perseverance.

At this point, you may be thinking- wow, what is going on with Rebekah to inspire such drastic thinking. But really, do problems have to be big for us to feel this way? Sometimes I think those are the most bothersome problems- those ones that seem small and insignificant, like you should be able to take it on with little effort. Still, it remains- that little issue that keeps bringing you down, that keeps distracting you, that keeps discouraging you.

You can get to the point where a little thing become big and dominant. You have drawn it so close that you can't see past it. In photography, it's a matter of perspective. You begin to focus on a subject and the closer you get, the smaller and blurrier everything else appears.

So, how do you persevere? How do you start to back away from this thing that is dominating your focus and your vision?

I'm so, so thankful that it doesn't have to come from me.

In Romans, Paul talks about perseverance. And it does not sound inspiring when you get started- mainly due to the fact that it starts with suffering. Romans 5:
'And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we rejoice in our sufferings,'

Let me just stop you right there and say, whoa. Challenge one: rejoicing in suffering. I'm not going to lie, my first reactions are probably going to be whining to someone (or to God), getting frustrated, or lying on the floor and crying- probably not going to be rejoicing. Am I right? Ok, sorry- continuing on:

'but we rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance;'
Yep, there it is... that glamorous perseverance.
'perseverance, character; and character, hope.'
Now, I've never thought about it like this before (and I've heard this passage quite a few times), but as this builds- suffering to perseverance, perseverance to character, I did not see character developing into hope. But those people that face the world, face their problems and have hope- it's not because they are naive, ignorant, or foolish- actually, it could be that they have been through a process that has developed perseverance and character and finally led to hope.

'And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.'

'You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possible dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.'

While we were still lying on the floor, crying about a problem- big or small, while we were running from perseverance, while we were so focused on something that we couldn't see anything else, Christ chose suffering SO MUCH GREATER. All so that we could be saved. All so that we could develop perseverance, character and HOPE.

That's a perspective changer. Even for someone who has known it, grown up with the truth of this Scripture, the reality of life is that we walk through challenges, we continue to have opportunities to grow, and we continue to have moments where we falter and even fail.

Do I know what it feels like to have God pour his love into my heart by the Holy Spirit? Do I know a hope that does not disappoint?

Yes, I do.

Do you?

Ahem, You Were Saying?

There are moments in life where you get something just plain wrong. I’m sure you've experienced this. You were convinced of something and were not afraid to tell anyone about it. Then later, you find out you were wrong.

Today was another day when I found out, I was just plain wrong. I've taken to confessing out loud when something like this occurs.

Let me take you back to the beginning of this story. I was returning from a splendid vacation. It was the type of vacation that, when the wheels of the plane lifted off of Australia, tears came to my eyes because I was not ready to leave. By the time I reached the Philippines, I had been traveling for at least 24 hours through multiple airports and I still had another long layover and flight before I’d be done.

I walked up to immigration, handed over my documents, then dug in my bag for more documents, answered questions, explained what I was doing and waited… and waited. The longer I waited the more frustrated I became. He kept flipping through my passport where there are multiple visas showing that I’ve been working here. My thoughts were a bit like this: ‘Just stamp the passport’, ‘I’m here to help people for crying out loud’, ‘Why are you so confused’, ‘JUST STAMP THE PASSPORT’, ‘If you really don’t want me here, I’m happy to go back to Australia or New Zealand'.

Eventually my passport was stamped and returned. I went through and met up with the other staff member traveling with me. They had gone through immigration in minutes, without any hassle and even thanked for working to help the victims of Yolanda. This elicited quite the vent session from me. All of those thoughts that I listed and more came spilling out of me in a torrent of complaints.

A month later, it came time to renew visas. My base manager walked up to me this afternoon and handed me my passport. “Good news, your visa doesn't need to be renewed. You were given a stamp that doesn't have to be extended.”

(the expression was something like this, though with a bit more surprise and shame)

It was a slap in the face of encouragement. I looked at her and confessed: “Well, I have to apologize for fussing about that immigration officer.”

I couldn't believe it had taken so long for the guy to stamp my passport. I was frustrated and in quite a bad attitude, thinking that clearly the middle of the night was too late for this guy because he was so confused. All the while, I had been given something worth much more than the time I had to spend standing there waiting.

Today, I needed a bit of encouragement. I had no idea that I had already been supplied that encouragement about a month ago.