invisible

Sometimes I wonder why I have this desire to feel invisible. I wonder why I want to disappear.

I have this really strong urge to yell and scream right now, I have this deep feeling of being unwanted & unloved. Being a burden and being in the way. To avoid all of those feelings, I want to become invisible, make myself disappear.

I think something I feel like I am treated as though I am invisible and I wish my abilities allowed me to match the outside with the inside. As in, if the people that I care about consistently communicate that they don't want me around, I would rather not be around. I would rather find a way to not be there at all. If those that I seek approval from turn and look the other way, I don't seem to learn not to seek approval, I find myself growing in pain and hurt.

My heart seems to be crushed over and over wanting so badly to be wanted and feeling over and over the rejection of reality. When will ever learn to stop hoping for something different?

elevator

Once, I was stuck in an elevator. My mom and I lived in an apartment building. It was the first time I lived anywhere but a house. I had always had a yard around a one story house. The apartments had one or maybe more elevators. I would usually choose to ride the elevator, maybe out of novelty, maybe out of laziness.

I went through a time when I would play a game and sort of fight the elevator. I would try to hold the doors open while they tried to close. I have no idea how this game started, but I would do it whenever I got in the elevator alone.

On one particular day, I did the same thing. As the doors began to close, with all my strength I tried to keep them open. It wasn't so much that I wanted them to stay open but I wanted to fight was was happening. I pushed against the force of the elevator and on that fateful day I managed to cause something different to happen.

Instead of the inside doors simply taking longer to close, they stayed slightly open. By a few inches. The elevator wasn't properly closed and it wasn't going to go up or down. The outside door was tightly shut and the inside ones had a crack big enough to stick my hand through. I began to consider how I would live in that elevator for the rest of my life. They would have to push a blanket through for me to use to sleep and food for me to eat.

At some point, I knocked, I press buttons. Then, I began to pound and yell. I was stuck on the first floor and was trying to make it to our apartment on the third floor. I could hear people gathering around the outside door, yelling things to me. There was one point in which my mother was outside the door and loudly asked if anyone was in the elevator with me, with panic in her voice. I yelled back NO! I was not afraid of anyone and what they might do to me; I was fearful of living out my days in a square metal box.

More people gathered outside the doors. At some point a crowbar was being used to pry open the outside of one of the doors. People were trying to talk with me, my mother sounded hysterical. I heard talk of calling 911; or that they had already been called. There was total confusion and a flurry of talk and commotion.

At some point, the door to the elevator on my floor was forced open. Something was reset and the inside door closed and opened completely. I was free to live outside of the metal lined room for the remainder of my life. There was such relief in me.

But once I got out, I felt guilty. Guilty for causing such commotion. Guilty for thinking I would live there forever. Most of all, I then had to see my hysterical mother. I was the one responsible for her distress.

I guess the difficult thing was that as a child, I would have liked to have been comforted. Instead I was the comforter. That's messed up!

college

So my friends are picking up their daughter at college. I think it is great that even as she finishes her second year of higher level education, they still interact in such a way that there is interdependence and counting on one another. They return tomorrow and there will be a few short weeks of the whole family being together before others go away for summer projects.

I guess for me though, there is this pang of sadness, of disappointment. Not because she is coming home, but because I am reminded that I missed out.

My last few weeks of high school, there was a lot of friction in my home from a recent marriage between my mom and her practically-still-a-teenager husband and their new son born exactly nine months and a day after their vows. My "first love" had dumped me. The day after prom. My birthday. Life was rough and I needed somewhere to feel better about things. I remember taking refuge in my friend's home. Her family accepted me as part and I ate meals, slept over and even housesat when they took my friend to college.

When it was my turn to head north and check myself in to the dorms at Sac State, I think I assumed that someone would take me as well. At that point, I essentially had four to choose from. I even asked each one, well probably three out of four, to go with me. To take me. To drop me off. To help me settle in. One by one they refused. Too busy. Weren't comfortable. Would drive up later.

The night before I drove away, I sat up talking to my ex most of the night. You know, the dumped-me-on-my-birthday guy? Most of the night meaning I got home sometime before dawn and packed the back part of my truck up with boxes, bags and whatever else I decided was important for me to have there. That meant carrying things down the stairs and heading back up, alone, after each load. Maybe they were sleeping, maybe just watching. I have no recollection. Likely I don't want to remember. At that point, it felt like every other day in my life so far. Alone and having to fend for myself.

Exhausted and falling asleep at the wheel I drove up highway 5 in order to arrive at Desmond Hall in time for the sun to soon appear. New city. New life. New friends. I was thrilled and excited to begin my college adventure. Just as I had carried all the boxes down the stairs to my car when I left home, I had to carry everything up several flights of stairs to create my new Sacramento home.

My roommate, Allyson, brought along her parents, her best friend and her boyfriend. I had none of those. Her mom thought I was "easy" because I appeared so independent. The funny thing is, at that point I didn't really see anything strange about my situation. I had grown really used to the way I was forced to live my life - alone and self-sufficient. Ally and I became fast friends and my parents even came the following Saturday to visit and see where home was now for me.

From my point of view now, I cannot believe that I went alone. After not having slept. That I packed alone. That I unpacked alone. I am sad that I wasn't cared for. That no one was around to help me. In some ways I cannot even express what I think and feel about it. It is as though I am speechless. I am left without words.

But as I think about my friends picking up their daughter after her second full year away, something in me cries out with envy. Why wasn't someone there for me? Why did I have to learn to live life alone so young? It is hard for me to know, painful for me to remember and sad to consider. What if things had been different? What if one of my parents had taken time out of their day that day to travel along with me and make sure I was taken care of? What if one had actually been a parent that day?

I hope their daughter knows how lucky she is.

burden

I never want to be a burden. To anyone. Tonight someone questioned why I use that word. I never think of myself as an inconvenience. That sounds trivial, light. I will always refer to myself as a burden. That is how I see myself. What I think about myself.

What is a burden? According to Merriam Webster, it is something that is carried, something oppressive or worrisome, the bearing of a load. According to Wikipedia, it is a heavy weight that is difficult to carry. Metaphorically it refers to anything difficult or troubling.

So, do I see myself as oppressive, a load to bear, a heavy weight I place on others? In so many ways I do. I sense as though my one time of asking for someone to listen to me would be such a terrible inconvenience that it would wind up being as a burden to them.

She asked if anyone had ever said that to me? Has anyone at some point in my life said to me that I am a burden? Interesting question, something to ponder. Truthfully, I cannot remember right off the bat. I don't know if I even felt that way about myself growing up. But I know that in friendships, I absolutely feel that way. I want so desperately to talk and to share with people, I want to be known. Yet, that very desire remains locked away because I am too afraid to say anything, to share (without being asked first) or to need anything or anybody. Why can't it be simpler? Why can't I trust that my friends are my friends? Or trust in what a friend is?

Am I a burden? Do I see myself only as that? Why? How can that be changed?

fine

That is my answer for everything. Whether I am upset, angry, hurt, mad, whatever...I will always say that I am fine. I have no other response. It means nothing really. It means ask again in a different way. Why can't I just be straight with people. When I am hurt, say I am hurt. When I am mad, say that I am mad. When I am ticked off, say so. When I am sad, express it. And on and on. Why is everything fine? Why don't I own how I feel?

How are you? I'm fine.

fight or flight

Here is an excerpt I found appropriate:

When our fight or flight system is activated, we tend to perceive everything in our environment as a possible threat to our survival. By its very nature, the fight or flight system bypasses our rational mind—where our more well thought out beliefs exist—and moves us into "attack" mode. This state of alert causes us to perceive almost everything in our world as a possible threat to our survival. As such, we tend to see everyone and everything as a possible enemy. Like airport security during a terrorist threat, we are on the look out for every possible danger. We may overreact to the slightest comment. Our fear is exaggerated. Our thinking is distorted. We see everything through the filter of possible danger. We narrow our focus to those things that can harm us. Fear becomes the lens through which we see the world.

We can begin to see how it is almost impossible to cultivate positive attitudes and beliefs when we are stuck in survival mode. Our heart is not open. Our rational mind is disengaged. Our consciousness is focused on fear, not love. Making clear choices and recognizing the consequences of those choices is unfeasible. We are focused on short-term survival, not the long-term consequences of our beliefs and choices. When we are overwhelmed with excessive stress, our life becomes a series of short-term emergencies. We lose the ability to relax and enjoy the moment. We live from crisis to crisis, with no relief in sight. Burnout is inevitable. This burnout is what usually provides the motivation to change our lives for the better. We are propelled to step back and look at the big picture of our lives—forcing us to examine our beliefs, our values and our goals. Mind/Body Education Center

every three months

My past year has been hard. Sure years before that were hard with legal issues, crazy people and safety concerns. But, I think I have sense of stability when I have a place to call home. But this past year has been riddled with moving to and fro, here and there.

Last August I returned to the states in order to get a better perspective on things that were going on Peru. I booked a ticket for one month and wound up staying three. It just took me that long to make some of the decisions I needed to make.

I returned to Peru in November, part of me knowing I would be moving back to the US and another part of me begging to stay in Peru. I waited and listened to God and knew that my time in Peru was coming to a close. It was hard to pack up six years of my life in order to move back, but it was time and it had to be done.

I arrived in February back in the states and was graciously taken in by a family to stay without even really discussing the terms and conditions of my stay with them. Throughout this time, I have worried almost daily about being in the way, being a burden and just not being wanted. No, I haven't said those things to them, they just float through my mind and heart constantly.

Now, because of things that are changing at this family's house, I need to find someplace else to move to. It really didn't come as a surprise to hear it. I am not mad at them or myself. But, most definitely my eyes quickly filled with tears and I held them back as much as possible. As soon as I could, I took refuge in my room where I could begin to take some action. Although they say it is not urgent, I feel the urgency because these changes are about to occur this week. I really don't know where to go, but I feel the need to figure it out.

It is really hard for me to trust God when I am hurting. Too many times, I have suffered pains of the heart and I have just had to deal with them. Alone. So to trust that God is going to lead me to a room, a family, somewhere to stay is hard for me to believe. Someone encourages me to let people care about me. For me it is not an issue of someone caring about me, it is an issue of where I will lay my head. Now what? Now where?

I want to take action because then I won't feel all that is going on in my heart. I am scared that where I end up will be the wrong place and I will just be uncomfortable the entire time. I am scared that I will emotionally pull away from the family where I am currently staying and hurt the friendships I have with them. I am scared of where I will go from there. I feel like I cannot ask too much of any one family, so asking for a room over the summer is plenty. But then August comes and what do I do?

This makes me face the reality that daily I crave to walk into my apartment in Peru, to be in my kitchen the size of a closet, to hear the crazy noises of my neighbors and the street vendors and the like. I want to have a place that is my own again. I feel like I am living in such a way right now that I cannot settle in. I lived with the question of what do I do next for far too long. I hate feeling that at any time, I will have to make another move.

My heart is tired of trying to adjust to all these changes. This is where I come back to this feeling of wanting to just pack up my car and disappear. I just don't want to be anyone's burden. Heck, I don't know what to do with me, why should anyone else be pulled into that question along with me? I already know my patterns...I want to numb all of these feelings and go into hiding. The opposite of all of that is to not numb anything and stay in the open. But you know, for me that is scary.

dealing with pain

You know when you go to the dentist and they want to do some awful procedure? The give you something to numb the area. When it is as drastic as wisdom teeth removal, they give you enough to put you under. Why is that? So you don't feel the pain! They don't want you to react to the procedure. They don't want you to pass out from the pain. I am sure there are other reasons as well.

So my thought this morning is, why then do I have to bring up all of this pain from my past in order to deal with it all? Why do I have to feel it all? I learned when I was young to put the pain somewhere were it did not affect me. Why is it that I have to bring it all back out and walk through it now? I like when things are neatly packed away and the thought of opening up all of those things in order to sort through them all is exhausting! I want to leave them packed away in their nicely marked boxes.

At the same I see people with pain packed away inside and I know that is not what I want to live like either. I am caught in between. I want to get it all out, yet I want to keep it all in. I feel almost frozen in that stage and don't know where to go from here.

numbing

Many years ago, my parents would fight. Every day. Every hour. I had no siblings. No neighborhood friends. No school friends who were close to me. I was young. The only way to survive it was to numb myself to the pain I felt constantly as words sliced deeper than knives and holes were left in walls just like in my heart.

Those times scared me and worried me. I had no idea what to do with that fear and anxiety. My parents were too busy dealing with one another to listen to my heart. So day by day, my heart had to grow a little more numb. I know that some people do this through alcohol or drugs. It seems that I mastered the way to numbing my feelings without any additional substances. I learned how to shut things off. Completely.

So now, I start to feel again. Yet all of this pain seems to well up inside me constantly. But my reality is that this pain is exactly the reason I learned to avoid my feelings. I have no desire to feel all of this pain and hurt again. I wanted it all to go away before and yet it still comes back to haunt me.

It is there. Buried inside. I cannot say buried deep because it feels like it is right on the surface. And I hate that. So if it can't be numbed anymore, I can't help but want to pack myself into my car and drive away. To try to leave all the pain behind once again. If I can't bury it inside, I guess I would like to escape it somehow. Good things drugs and alcohol don't appeal to me otherwise I would be a prime candidate for use.

Anyway, as long as I am being real, this is just where my heart is. Painfully exposed.

happened again

Well, it kinda happened again. But in a different way. Since early this morning, I have been wrestling with "feeling" okay. It includes the thoughts of I don't belong, I am not wanted, I am in the way and sends me down a path I really don't desire to be on. I wind up really missing Peru and thinking about the things I need to do to just get myself back there. I worry that others around me are uncomfortable around me and that makes me want to hide, but when I hide, people are uncomfortable. I feel like I can't win.

Okay, so this afternoon...lots of people, most of whom are heading somewhere together...part of me wants to stay, part of me wants to go. I debate mentally instead of respond physically. One of the other gals encourages me to go and I mentally sway to the side of going. I run to change my shoes and hear the front door close. I was still decided to participate, to be social. Then once I stepped out the door and down the first few steps, it hit me...which car will I go in? Of course, I wouldn't want to arrive alone; I would want to go with others. But I don't have the courage or confidence to ask. So...I turned around and came back inside.

Mind you, I don't feel defeated. I went in and cleaned the kitchen, made some coffee and enjoyed some time alone. I am totally okay with that and truthfully don't feel left out or unwanted. But I do feel disappointed in myself. Disappointed that I didn't take a few more steps in order to make myself part of the others. Disappointed that my fears control me. Disappointed that I just don't know how to do this; this being interact with others in a positive and healthy way.

Then it just makes me mad. Mad because I realize that all that time as a little girl that I was supposed to learn these things was spent dealing with my fighting parents and using up all my effort to do everything perfectly. Mad because I feel like such a little girl when it comes to these things. Mad because I don't know what to do in these situations; who can I turn to? Mad because this is not what I want to be facing in life. Mad because I wish I was past this growing and learning stage; I wish these things were already learned.

I am not really sure where to turn with all of these thoughts and feelings. And that kind of frustrates me as well. Anyway...it happened again. I acted like a little girl.

weight

It seems almost seems comical that as I press thru the frustrations of emotional baggage and cycles, I feel as though I am doing the same physically. I have changed my eating to something minimal, low-sugar, low-fat as possible. I have increased my exercise to 2 hours daily. I am drinking my water. And I don't feel like it is having any affect. I am basically at the same weight I was 2 weeks ago. Aren't the pounds just supposed to melt off at first? The first couple of weeks should be the easiest.

I suppose I am seeing that emotional barriers as well as physical barriers are going to take some hard work. I am in for a fight. It is just that too many days, I already feel defeated. How is that going to change?

problem

I have a problem.

You see, when I was younger, my parents fought a lot. There was yelling, slamming of doors, punching of walls, throwing things and constant tension. It was hard to live in the midst of. If I was in the room when the tension began to rise, I either left or was told to go and clean my room. Bottom line was I was not allowed to be in the midst of it and I never saw the resolution of it. The tension and fighting continued until the end of my parents marriage. And then some.

My bedroom became my escape. It was sort of my safe place. I had bunk beds in my room and when my parents got their loudest, I chose to hide the furthest away possible - under the bottom bunk. I had no where else to go and no one else to turn to. I had questions, I was scared and felt alone. I hid to try to get away from the tension, to avoid the fighting. I could not resolve it and I couldn't escape it; so I hid from it. Or better said, I hid it all in my heart.

This seemed to work for so many years. When there was a problem I ran from it. I hid from it. I isolated myself in order to feel in control of my environment. I still fear things getting out of control all around me and when they do, I still find myself running for my room and trying to hide. I hide physically, to some extent.

But worse, I hide emotionally. I am terrified of "coming out from under the bed." I have no idea who I can trust and who can keep me safe. When I sense that someone is upset, I withdraw. I want to take away my presence hoping that will solve the problem. I have this crazy mixed up lie in my head that my presence is the problem. If I can hide far enough away, maybe that will fix things and relieve people.

I would like to see this be different. However, I really don't know how to make a change. I want desperately to run and hide from things, from people. And at the same time, I long for my heart to be known. I don't know how to make this work. I guess I just wish I knew what it is I was supposed to do. Am I supposed to call someone? I don't want to bother anyone. Am I supposed to tell people what is going on in my heart? What if they don't care? Am I supposed to share the lies that are going on in my mind? What if they listen and know what they are? Simply, I don't know what to do with this. I don't know how to stop.

It almost sounds like an addiction. Like I am addicted to isolation. It is what brings me comfort to some extent. And I don't know how to stop. I thought about that thru much of the day today. Someone that is addicted to something very well may try to put a stop to it but it feels impossible. I do need a "sponsor" of sorts who I know I can just call and talk to no matter how crazy I sound. I need to hear someone else's version of this.

I don't know. I just want to stop the madness. I want to learn a different way. And I guess at the same time, I am terrified that I will not be able to change.

A Long Time...

I feel like a lot of time has passed since I have actually written. I figure that no one actually reads this and therefore I question why bother writing. I have been working a lot more at my blog Canela y Comino and found both my time in the kitchen as well as the time I write to be some what therapeutic. Okay, really therapeutic. You can check in with me over there on a regular basis.

But...the thing is...there is a lot in my head and my heart that I cannot seem to express. I keep telling people that I seem to settle down once I am in the kitchen. I chop. I puree. I saute. I cook. I bake. These things seem to help me process and pray about these things that are in my mind.

Something, though, has been nagging at me to write it down. I wonder if trying to write instead of verbally express myself would be better. De repente yo puedo escribir solo en espanol para que algunos no mas entiendan. No se que seria mejor. A veces pienso mas claramente asi than like this. It all just depends. Todo depende.

So today someone stopped by my house. Una visita. She came by to ask a favor. But instead of dropping by and running out as usual she stayed and talked. We talked about life and things of the past, the present and the future. But something she said will continue to molestarme como siempre. The comments I often hear include something along the lines of "we all try to be your friend." See...people drop by for something, por una razon, to see someone, to ask a favor, for something. Rarely is it to see me, to talk with me. It is not that that bothers me. It is that they see that as trying to be my friend.

She suggests that our perspective of being a friend is very different. I should drop by their houses more. I say I would like to but I haven't been invited. Exactly she says. Oh how we think differently. Somehow I am supposed to understand that someone coming by to ask a favor really means that they are my friend, that they are trying to spend time with me and in turn I am obligated to reciprocate that? How complicated. If they want me to visit, why don't they just invite me? Why not just say, come on over. See other do this. I am invited. I am welcomed. I don't wonder. Sure the Latin culture is full of visits, but still it seems odd to me. I think part of the reason is that it can take 2 hours by bus to go somewhere, so you would not likely go somewhere without previa aviso. You would not likely just be in the neighborhood.

Anyway, all that to say that I still struggle with figuring out how to "be friends" with people. I wish it was just easy. Porque no puede ser mas facil? Porque la gente no piensan igual como yo? Porque? Me gustaria entender pero tambien me gustaria que ellos me entendarian a mi. Porque siempre tengo que explicarme? Si, claro, yo se que 5 anos no significa que soy experta aqui.

So what do I do now? She came by. Does that mean that I need to visit her soon? Does that obligate me to respond in some way? Como hago?

Lessons In Waiting

Although I was not actually in Lima to feel the earthquake that shook Peru last week, I did feel some of its effects as we traveled from the jungle back to Lima. Instead of a simple 12 hour bus ride, at about 4am, our bus was detained. I stuck my head out the window into the bitter cold and the dark of the madrugada. Once I saw a man who worked for the bus line I asked why we (along with all the rest) were stopped. "No hay pase!" He said the earthquake had caused some rocks to fall which were being cleaned up and implied we would be on our way soon. When the bus began to move within just a few minutes I was relieved...until we stopped again in just a few miles.

The next SEVENTEEN hours were more of the same: stopping, going for a few meters, stopping again. We got off the bus to look around and stretch our legs and ate granola bars to our hearts content. Through those hours, we passed by many small rock slides and after 17 hours got to the main landslide which was said to have been a mountain which had slipped from its heights. They had tried to clean it for a good portion of the day but reoccurring aftershocks were said to cause a continual flow of falling rocks. By the time we drove through it, they had partially cleaned one lane for the miles and miles and miles of traffic to flow through.

As someone who has lived in Peru a number of years now, I have learned not to become to ruffled by circumstances that are beyond my control. Me being upset would not make the workers clean faster, the bus driver drive more aggressively or food appear out of the sky. I watched the US team that was with us and they were troopers right along with us. By the end of this adventure, I realized that they now can comprehend the way of life here a bit better. I told them that they can pray for us in a new way now that they have experienced not only the joys of ministry but also the difficulties.

When you pray for the missionaries you support, don't just pray for their fruitful ministry and happy heart...pray for them as they face a way of life that is very different than yours. This very way of life can cause stress and discomfort if one does not adapt. Pray for missionaries to adapt to their country of ministry so that they might be even more effective.

We are not in control. God is.

Learn to Lose?

"In America, we teach people how to acquire things, but we don't teach how to lose them,"

Bishop F. Josephus Johnson II said. Johnson is the senior pastor of The House of the Lord in Akron Ohio. This church is home to Patty Porter, mother of Jesse Marie Davis, the pregnant 26-year-old Lake Township, Ohio, woman whose body was found June 23, 10 days after she disappeared.

I was struck by this comment. At times I experience the clash between wanting to acquire and seeing the benefit in losing things. Even in the last few days I have seen that play out. I returned from the jungle with over 30 pounds of fruit including plantains, carambola, jungle mandarins and oranges. When I asked my friends what they did with their large containers of fruit, one admitted that while her family was consuming it, her mom was also giving it away bit by bit to visitors. Yesterday, someone visited and brought even more fruit! I have had the opportunity to give some away to people that visit my house and for whatever reason I could not.

I realize that fruit has no comparison with a life and that my giving away would be completely voluntary while so many people lose things involuntarily. But I am struck by the reality that Americans in general live to acquire more and must learn how to lose in order to be healthy, sane humans.

I was drawn back to the article I found on cnn.com and read it out loud to those at my house (translated into Spanish of course!).

The reality, Johnson said, is that life amounts to an unending series of losses. "From the moment that we come out of our mother's womb, there's a loss. There's a loss of connection. ... And then all along, we lose as we grow up. We lose friends, we change grades, we lose toys, we lose pets. ... As you get into later life, we lose hair, we lose strength. ... So life can be viewed as a series of losses, but yet America is much more concerned about what we acquire than it is about what we lose."

As a result, well-meaning people often make unhelpful remarks to grieving people.

"One of the things we say a lot is, 'Time will heal all wounds.' And time really does not heal anything," Johnson said. "We give the example in Grief Recovery that if we believe time heals things, then when you get a flat tire, just go out and get a chair and sit by it and see whether the flat fixes itself. It's not going to do that. You have to make informed decisions and choices in order to be able to heal certain things."

Part of the problem, he said, is that Americans tend to try to work through things intellectually rather than emotionally.

"When you have an event that brings emotional loss, you cannot think your way through that, you have to feel your way through it. It's like going into a dark room: You can't think your way through that room, you have to put your hands out and feel your way through it."

And although he says we often bring grief upon ourselves by making poor decisions that have bad consequences, Johnson acknowledges that bad things happen to good people.

"The redeeming factor is that God is going to redeem the world one day, and nothing that happens to us in this life is final in terms of where we're going to spend eternity," he said.

"God will redeem those things. He will one day right every wrong. But in the meantime, we are facing still some of the things that are going on because in the fall, the devil himself, now understanding that he is not going to win, is more active than he has ever been."

Just Listen!!!

Sometimes it seems we complicate the idea of hearing the voice of God or discerning the will of God. I think that what is behind the complication is the basic desire or lack of desire to hear Him or not. When we seem to have in mind a multitude of options or solutions to an issue, we make the hearing difficult. When we want one answer and that is the very thing He speaks to us, we seem to accept it without hesitation. Truly when we have fewer choices or options it is just simpler to hear Him. When we have all of these ideas, options in mind it is almost as if we want to offer them back to God instead of simply accepting what He says to us in the first place.

I felt similarly in many stores in the United States on my recent visit. Let's say I asked for a "grande americano." Mind you, I can no longer say "grande" without rolling my "r" and the "baristas" often look back at me quizzically. So I ask for my americano and instead of telling me that is it $2.00 and waiting for the payment, they proceed with a variety of other questions.

Barista: "Do you need any other coffee drinks?"
Me: "No thanks."
Barista: "Any pastries to go with that today?"
Me: "No just the coffee, thanks."
Barista: "Would you like to purchase a gift card?"
Me: "No, the coffee is all."

I am not sure how you feel about the onslaught of options but I just felt like my original request was not really heard or accepted. Instead of trusting me that I know what I need or want, they would offer me the rest of the store. Sure, sure...I know this is all part of good marketing and sometimes it does in fact work with customers, but I do not believe it is the way we should respond to God.

God does not exactly just request things of us, He speaks to us and requires obedience. Yet many times it seems like we respond as the barista responded to me. When we don't like His instructions we ask Him if there is any other way to accomplish something. When we don't like His timing, we ask if there is a way He could change things sooner...or later. When we don't really want to be pushed out of out comfort zone, we ask if someone else could complete the task. It is not so much that God does not speak to us, it has more to do with whether or not we choose to hear Him and accept when He says to us.

Stopover Adventures!

After winding through the mountains on a 10 hour bus ride, we finally were able to get off the bus in Ayacucho. Instead of getting a much needed break from traveling, we were immediately escorted to yet another bus station. The bus had left just a few minutes before and next door we were pleased to find a combi which could take us to Uripa.

We settled into our seats and before long I realized that my purse was not in my carry-on bag, so I no longer had my wallet, camera or my gum! I raced back to the first bus station and without much explanation went aboard the bus to look for my belongings. Luckily, my purse was found tucked under my seat and I quickly snatched it up and began to look through it as I got back off the bus. Camera...gum...no wallet!! I raced back into the station and was holding back my tears as I tried to explain that not everything was in my bag. Again, I searched in the bus but at the same time tried to retrace my steps in my mind. By doing that, I almost convinced myself that I had taken my wallet out of my purse and it was indeed in my carry-on bag. So back to bus station #2 I went, hoping that I would find the last of my lost possessions.

Upon arrival, I tore into my bag once again and found the wallet was indeed among the items. I was so very thankful that I was able to recover all of the items and without much hassle! Onward on the seven hour journey which would bring us to Uripa...

The Things Above

It is amazing how often we allow our circumstances to rob us of our perspective. Things begin to happen in our life and we focus on the "things." We worry about money, we worry about people, we worry about the future and so many times we worry about ourselves.

So many times, we begin to define God through the particular set of circumstances we are currently facing. If we are facing loss, we choose to see God as someone who takes away. If we are facing difficulties, we may see Him as One who doesn't care. And even as we experience good times and blessings, we may take the perspective that God loves us more than at other times.

We cannot allow our circumstances to define who God is. We must allow God to define our circumstances. It is as though no matter what is set before us, we must see it through God's perspective in order to understand it.

It would be easy for me to take an earthly perspective and be crushed in the midst of difficulties. But, what I must see is how God is using those very situations to form and mold me. How can I do this?

I was reminded of this as I walked through the downtown of Buenos Aires. To see the true beauty, so many times I had to look up. Oh, the building were beautiful at eye level. But people went through the trouble of designing architecture that was not only beautiful at eye level but it drew your attention upward.

Our life circumstances should do the same. We should not only focus on what we see at eye level but should allow those very things to force our gaze upward. God has not randomly selected things for us to go through and grow through. He has us each individually in mind when He orchestrates our lives.

Allow whatever you are going through to force your gaze upward. See the beauty through God's perspective. Realize the God-designed details when you look heavenward.

Refreshment

This past weekend, I was praying for my friend and the conference that Refresh Life had on Saturday when the Lord reminded me of how important the word "refresh " has been in my life.

Several years ago, I was in the initial grieving period following a death in the family. I had never really faced the reality of someone dying and the tragic circumstances in this particular situation made things almost unbearable. I remember spending quite a bit of time trying to journal but really only remember writing to God "I know that you don't give me any more than I can handle, but I just want to let you know I don't think I can handle any more than this." I felt as though I was at the end of my ability to comprehend, understand and make sense of what I was facing.

Much of the time, I poured through the Psalms as it seems to be full of human emotions in difficult times as well as the acknowledgment of the greatness of God in the midst of trying moments. One evening as I sat in a large group Bible study, I had my Bible open to Psalm 84.

How blessed is the man whose strength is in Thee;
In whose heart are the highways to Zion!
Passing through the valley of Baca, they make it a spring,
The early rain also covers it with blessings.
Psalm 84:5-6

In my Bible, the definition listed for Baca is "weeping." So I read "passing through the valley of weeping..." and my heart leaped for joy. I was in the valley of weeping. I had already understood that although we seem to crave mountiantop experiences with our Savior, we will never know Him like we know Him in the valley. There, He draws close and tends to us individually.

Suddenly the promises jumped off the page and right into my heart. First, it did not say that I was going to remain in the valley forever. I was going to pass through the valley. What a relief! The valley is dark, it is painful and incredibly lonely. I was hoping to find the exit soon! I now had my hope on the fact that in His timing, I would pass through this very valley and make it to the other side. Second, I discovered a purpose for my journey in the valley. As I passed through the valley, I would turn it into a place of springs. To my heart, this meant that I would bring refreshment to others due to my journey through the valley of weeping.

To refresh means: to restore strength, to freshen up, to maintain by renewing one's supply, to update or renew, or to run water over. As a result of my time in the valley, I would be equipped with the ability to restore strength to others, to renew their supply and to "pour water over" them. I could not comprehend how I would do these very things, but then and there I noted in my Bible,

With God's strength, I can pass through valleys of weeping and turn them into springs. The valley will be covered with blessing.

This was of great encouragement to me and became my verses of hope during the darkness. Be someone who refreshes others.

Pain

"The pure truth, spoken in pure love, will always attract. You will remember the pain you feel here, and it will help you through the rest of your life. Pain is good; it shows you where there is a problem. Do not try to reduce the pain until you find the problem. God's truth often brings pain as it highlights a problem that we have, but His truth will always show us the way to freedom, too. When you know this you will even begin to rejoice in your trials, which are all allowed to help keep you on the path of life." (from The Final Quest by Rick Joyner)