But He is Strong

I have debated about making this post a long time. The subject is unpleasant, and I certainly don't want to brag about how we overcame this difficulty. But God keeps nudging me toward sharing this story to show HIS strength.

And let me tell you... it was ALL HIS strength that made this possible, for on my own I could not possibly have dealt with this situation.

Recently, the local police stopped by to ask if we knew where a traveler could stay. Brad talked to them for a long time before they left. He had told them he knew of nowhere. I know he didn't volunteer our spare room because it wasn't really "spare" anymore; my brother was moving in with us a couple of days later. I had his room clean and ready to go. I appreciate Brad's protection of my work, but I said, "Well, the person could stay here..."

So Brad called the police back and made the offer, and the police brought the traveler to our door. We've had strangers stay with us before, and I'm sure we'll do so again. Usually, the traveler is a Native man, hitchhiking his way to see his mom, his kids, or to get to a job. Usually, the traveler is reasonably clean, reasonably sober, and very appreciative.

Usually.

My mother has a wonderful gift of hospitality, and I think I learned what I know of it from her. Generally, I enjoy being a hostess, providing meals, a bed, a shower, and laundering clothing and bedding for their travels. Jesus' words on how we treat "the least of these" inspire me to be genuinely happy for these opportunities, even if they're sometimes slightly uncomfortable.

Usually.

This time was different.

When the police dropped off the traveler, I was shocked. I couldn't tell whether the person was a man or a woman. (woman) She was dressed in multiple layers of ill-fitting, disgustingly filthy clothing. She had a t-shirt around her hair and much of her face, leaving few clues to her age. (74) She was toting a ripped-up trash bag and a handled tote-bag, which she deposited on the floor of our kitchen. Our cats immediately began sniffing around in them; I was afraid they would urinate on the items, marking their territory.

And the smell... I have never smelled anything like it before in my life.  Seriously.   Never.   Ever.    It was the worst stale-urine-on-a-bedwetter smell combined with the worst BO and some other smells I never want to experience again. She had obviously been using her clothing as a toilet for weeks. Her pants were even wet as she entered the house. My eyes and throat burned as I greeted her. My stomach turned over as I watched her sink into a chair in my kitchen, and I dreaded the idea of her even in my house, let alone in a bed in my house.

And I sent up a silent prayer, begging with God to give me His love for this forlorn soul because I could find none in my heart.

And He did.

I was suddenly calm and unbothered. My physical repulsion at this woman's condition was removed. I was able to serve coffee to her, chat with her, offer her (with genuine joy) food, bed, shower, laundering.

It is not a testament to me or my strength, ability, or faith. Absolutely not. I could not possibly have succeeded in suppressing my revulsion. It was a gift from God. My peace of mind, my strength of stomach, my ability to actually love this traveler were given to me, complete, from Almighty God.

After she went to bed, I sanitized the chair and table where she had sat. Yes, it was that bad. But I didn't do it out of disgust, I did it to protect my family.

And when, in the middle of the night, we were awakened by the overwhelming stench of her using the toilet (removing her clothes made the smell so strong that we were suddenly awake, eyes and throats burning at the far end of the hallway), I was able to thank God that she felt safe enough to use the toilet instead of her clothing.

I got up the next morning, cooked bacon and eggs, determined to send her on her way with a good meal. I awakened her gently, thanking God that she slept on the bed instead of in it. She started with fear, then realizing where she was, asked if she could stay another night. Since my brother was in need of the room, we said no, but invited her to breakfast. Then my husband drove her halfway to her destination, where she would likely be able to hitch the rest of the way before nightfall.

After she left, I was left with the delousing, bleaching, sanitizing, washing, and deodorizing... but I was also left with the love of God for this unfortunate soul who wandered through our lives. And the absolute knowledge that...

I am weak.

But He is Strong.

In all things, depend on Him. He will provide all we need. The Lord is my strength and my shield and my righteousness. It is only in Him that I can do His will in this world.

I am weak.

But He is Strong.

Amen.

And Amen.



PS There are no pictures for this story because I refuse to utilize any homeless, desperate (or any other) person for my own purposes.

Happy Anniversary!

Today marks the third anniversary of our arrival in Dulce, New Mexico. I suppose it's natural to review "what we've accomplished" and to "set new goals," but that's not really how I think of our three years here. I have learned and gained so much more than I've given or accomplished.

Living among the Jicarilla Apache people has taught me many things. I'm still confused at times, but I've learned a lot! If you've ever lived outside of your native culture, you understand what I mean.

What have I learned?

I've learned that differences within the culture are almost as large as the differences between my (White, mainstream) culture and the Jicarilla culture. The Jicarilla people have many interpretations of what certain cultural practices mean; if I ask several people what something means, I get a better, fuller understanding than if I simply ask one person. This is even true with language pronunciation and use! Slowly, I am coming to an understanding of what things mean, but I am still ignorant on many topics.

I've learned that it's okay for me to take photographs in most situations since I am a member of the community. I still ask permission to post any pictures publicly, but I do that among my White friends, too. And I never take my camera to cultural events such as a keesta (girls' coming-of-age ceremony) or go-jii-ya (annual fall festival). Many of the parents of Kat's friends appreciate my photography hobby and love seeing what their children are doing while playing.

I've learned that ministry is all about relationships, especially here among the Jicarilla Apache. The time we spend with our Jicarilla friends opens the door to service and witness, besides being fun. Relationships take time. Among the mainstream culture, time is often more important than people; that is not true in Dulce. Here, if someone drops by (yes, this actually happens!), you stop what you're doing and settle in for a visit. It's delightful!

I've also learned that much of the ministry here is not done in the church or even with the church members. Much of our ministry consists of being welcoming to strangers who wander through our yard and our lives... of making plates of food for hungry wanderers, who are often intoxicated... of simply sitting with those who are distressed, depressed, or suicidal. This church was "the" church among the Jicarilla Apache for about 50 years; this means that families who aren't connected to another church often come to Brad for a wedding or, more often, a funeral. Brad is very good at consoling grieving family members and proclaiming the gospel at funerals.

I've learned that northern New Mexico is a long, long way from the Midwest. That when a parent is ailing, it's very hard to be so far away. That it's too expensive to go back as often as my heart would like. And in all this, I've learned that God provides for them in our absence. Neighbors, friends, and church family have all connected to support our parents. Accepting this blessing is difficult at times, but it is a good gift. 

We've discovered that we absolutely delight in the weather in the mountains. We love the cool summer nights and warm winter afternoons. We love the snow... and the fact that it usually melts within days. On our travels back to the Midwest, we feel the humidity, that's for sure! The dry climate is welcome when we return.

So, as we prepare to begin our fourth year in service here, we look forward to learning more about ministry, more about the Jicarilla Apache, and more about ourselves. We thank God for bringing us here, and ask Him to give us many more years among these precious people of His.

Sunflowers

We've lived in Dulce for almost exactly three years, and for most of that time I have taken a daily walk. My walk leads me through town to the high school track, around the track, and back through town to our home. On my route I recently noticed that some of the sunflowers were full and beautiful... and some were missing all their petals, leaving just the middle section.

I've seen this before and never really thought about it, but this particular morning it struck me. I looked a little closer.

My inspection of the sunflowers revealed that the pretty ones with bright yellow petals had small immature seeds in the center. The bare sunflowers held fully mature, robust seeds. And that got me to thinking...

It seems to me that we Christians are a little like the sunflowers. When we're immature, we hold potential, but it is undeveloped. Our actions for Christ may look pretty; they may draw attention, but mostly to ourselves, not to Christ. I know that I personally have had times in my life when my work "for the Lord" was more self-serving than I'd like to admit.

And the plain sunflower, with all the petals lost, is a mature Christian who is full of the promise of new life. None of the attractive glitz. Just the seeds of faith. Just the seeds of Christian growth. Just the seeds of God's will.

Sometimes people will be drawn more easily to the bright beauty of immature faith, but patiently growing into maturity as a Christian brings eternal joy. So don't worry if your Christian service isn't a blazing parade with myriad onlookers and followers. Instead, continue to allow God's Spirit to change you, to develop you into the deep and mature follower of Christ that will serve God's Kingdom in everything you do.

Ha dee an sii

We have been so very blessed here in Dulce, NM. God has provided everything we could possibly need, especially friends. Recently, we were invited to go along with some friends to pick choke cherries. I don't know much about choke cherries except that they taste really good when made into jelly or syrup. So we jumped on the adventure of picking choke cherries.

It turned out to be a delightful evening of picking choke cherries, climbing ridges, exploring, and laughing with our friends.

We also have a couple of friends who have been teaching us some of the Jicarilla language. We stumble through some of the sounds that make up the words, learning bit by bit. We can greet people, and we know a few words. Not much more. I do have a book with language information, but it seems like most of the words we already know are somehow different in the book.

Today I learned something that opened my eyes, my ears, and my heart even more to the Jicarilla culture. After one says "Danzho" (hello) to someone, the next statement is "Ha dee an sii?". This has been translated as "How are you?" for us. But today, in the children's message at church, it was defined as, "Do you need anything?"

Wow. What if we asked each other that every time we greeted each other? Do you need anything? Yes, I need someone to hold my baby while I take a break. Yes, I need someone to mow my lawn. Yes, I need some food. Yes, I need a hug today. Yes, Yes, Yes!

This deepens my understanding of the cultural expectation within the Jicarilla of providing for each other. For helping each other out. For giving of themselves when there is need.  And it strikes me that Jesus would like this.

Do you need anything? Yes. I need someone to care about me. I need someone to reach out to me. I need someone to love me.

Jesus does all that. Jesus tells us to do all that in the great commandment, "Love your neighbor as yourself."

It's amazing how God has blessed us in bringing us to the place. We came to be servants and to bring God's good news; and yet we are receiving God's good news at least as much as we are bringing it!

Just Another Day

I just started laughing out loud in our kitchen... all by myself...

Then I realized that what we take for granted, most of you don't know about at all, and so this post was formed.

My family hosted a pastor from India this past weekend; our children's offering supports his work with a dozen orphans in his city of Imphal, Manipur, India. He was an easy guest, very appreciative and gracious. On Saturday, before he left, 50+ people arrived to do mission work here on the Rez; about half are staying at our facility, in classrooms. The other half are staying at another church here in Dulce. They doing some work around each of the churches and parsonages, as well putting on a VBS (at the other church) and a basketball camp (at our church gym).


Well, except there is a funeral at our church today. And the funeral luncheon is in the gym. So the basketball camp is going to be held.... somewhere else. We have tried to secure another gym in the community without success. The decision-maker isn't available yet this morning. The visiting group's pastor and I made a back-up-back-up plan a few minutes ago.

Oh, and the church sewer line backed up this morning... with 25+ guests and a funeral. Thankfully, Tribal Maintenance was able to come and is snaking out the line. My husband has done this in the minutes before a previous funeral, though. Hopefully, snaking will fix the problem; with 100+ year old buildings we've had to dig up the sewer line to the house and replace it. I'd rather wait till we had no guests to replace the church line.

In the midst of this chaos, I opened the dishwasher in our kitchen...

to find it full of water that hadn't drained out from last night's dishes...

And that's when I laughed.

What a blessing it is that God brought us here to this place at a time in our lives when we've learned to let the little things go without stress and with humor. Thank you, God, for preparing us for this delightful, interesting, wonderful place!

Just-Do-What-You're-Told-And-You-Won't-Get-Shot

I am writing this for my White friends who deeply believe that racism is dead. I know I have them, and honestly, I'm glad I have them. I welcome people from all walks of life into my life, and I learn from each and every one of them.

So, to my friends who believe that racism is dead, that #BLM is unnecessary and divisive, I plead with you to read this entire post, to give it consideration, and to pray about the truth/non-truth of what I say.

The two pictures shown in this post are the same section of the same glass piece (Good, created several years ago). The experience of Black persons and White persons in our country are as different as these two photos of glass are different. They have some surface similarities, but the characteristics of the image are totally different. One is shiny, multi-colored, and reflective. The other is deeper, the light comes through it instead of reflecting, and shows completely different colors.

Both are true images of the glass panel, but if  you are looking at one of them and listening to someone describe the other one, you may think the other person is crazy!

I believe we can say the same thing about racism. Our personal perspective can be so very different from another's personal perspective that they seem crazy to us. Since I am speaking specifically to my White friends who believe racism is dead, I urge you to consider that the experiences of Black people who speak of racism are true, just as your personal experiences of non-racism are true. I have had some unique experiences that have allowed me to function on "both sides of the fence," and I can tell you that I do see the existence of racism today in America.

When I say that I see racism in America today, I include those folks who truly believe that Black people are worth less than White people. They are sick and wrong, and I'm sure most everyone would agree with that. But...

And here's the real difficulty...

But, I mean more than that. I mean that well-meaning police officers who truly want to do the right thing, who are out there protecting us in a dangerous job, who would never say they're out to get Blacks, that those police officers are more likely to react to a Black man with deadly force than to a White man in the exact same situation. That the assumption in our society is that Black men are more dangerous than White men. An assumption held by these good police officers, by the White woman who clutches her purse a little tighter when a Black man gets on the train, by the teachers who think that "those kids" (Kids of color, especially Black kids, especially boys) need a tighter discipline than White kids, by the shop owner who follows the Black children around, but not the White children...

THAT is what I mean by racism, in addition to the creeps who yelled out the N word to my six-year-old daughter as she walked on their sidewalk. Those racist creeps did not hurt my daughter nearly as much as the well-meaning folks who say they're "color-blind" and ignore the institutional racism that she faces every day.

Today, I awoke to a news story that sparked this post. Please, please take the time to read and watch this news story, as it is a reality that my Black friends and family face daily. It may be very different from your reality, but it is a true reality. There is no way to criticize what this Black man did, from everything I have seen and read. Perhaps something will come to light later, but even then... If a White man had been in this situation, he would not have been shot.

I pray that this country can move past this division and work together to create a better society, one in which all men are created equal.

Divided We Fall

Just after I posted yesterday about the police killings of two Black men, calling for people to pray, speak up for the oppressed, and listen to each other, four gunmen targeted, shot at least 12 uniformed police officers, and killed 5 of them. I am horrified. I am shaken. This morning my older daughter said, "It's like we're on the brink of a civil war!"

Civil. War.

That is what it feels like. And not just about this issue (police violence toward Black men), but across the board! The political scene is peopled by candidates that express only the very far Right and the very far Left positions. The statements being made by Donald Trump are hate-filled and inflammatory. Hilary Clinton supports late-term abortions, is being investigated by the State Department following an FBI investigation that brought evidence but no charges. And these are only a few of the objectionable characteristics that many people, even their supporters, find in each of these candidates. Social Media is filled with hateful statements on both sides of every issue. People aren't even civil in their disagreement... they don't even consider that the "other side" might have some truth in it.

Our nation is more divided than I have seen it in my lifetime. We can't even seem to agree on what the statistics are, let alone what the statistics say. Wealth is more concentrated than it has been for decades. (More information here.) Home ownership is down; rental rates are up. (More information here.)

So what?

Divided we fall.  That's what.

Abraham Lincoln and the book of Mark (3:25) agree on that. Divided we fall. Our country has stood strong for 240 years. The Civil War of 1861-1865 was fought to maintain unity, among other goals. We have joined the world fighting against oppression in two great wars. United we stand.

Divided we fall.

And so I risk angering people who support my stand against the oppression of minorities by calling the slaughter of police officers evil. I truly believe that the majority of Americans do not want violence of any kind. Not toward Blacks. Not toward Police Officers. Not toward the LGBT community. Not toward anyone.

It is morally outrageous for people to target the men and women in uniform who are doing their jobs. The Bible directs its followers to respect the authority of government (Romans 13:1). Some on the far Left would use Corrie ten Boom as an example of a time when it's appropriate to disrespect governing authority because it is immoral, but I believe that the institutional racism that has led to so many police shootings of Black men is not conscious. I truly cannot believe that it is stated government policy anywhere in the US to seek out Black men for assassination. Therefore, we must fight against racism, not against the police.

I believe in the American people's morality. If we can make the case that racism exists and is detrimental to persons of color in our society, the majority will support the change that is necessary. I understand this is slow and painstaking work, but I believe that it is essential.

If we rely on violence to "change things," all it will beget is more division... and...

Divided we fall.

I absolutely understand and share the anger of our citizens regarding violence toward Black men. I just as strongly and absolutely understand and share the anger of our citizens regarding violence toward Police Officers.

Americans, we are better than this. Let's UNITE against all forms of violence. Let's STAND for the oppressed, but without violence.

Again, I ask Christians to give serious consideration to the cause of American minorities. I ask you to pray for the victims of violence. I ask you to pray for the perpetrators of violence. I ask you to speak up in UNITY, not in DIVISION because

Divided we fall. All of us.