Going Back.

I fell in love with the Dominican Republic the first day I spent there. (And that day was just a little over two years ago now - one week after the devastating earthquake in Haiti.) I think it might often be shrugged off as just a tourist spot, a cruise ship stop; I know I was guilty of thinking that once. It is truly an amazing place - banana trees, ocean, a rugged mountain back drop, and a fascinating eclectic mix of Spanish and African culture, in the food, music, and even the distinctive look of the people. I felt so blessed to be there once, and hoped, but hardly expected to go back. But I did.

My Grandpa, little brother, and I just returned this past weekend from 10 days there.

Our mission was to finish up construction on a local church building.

In a funny twist of providence that only the Lord could

have planned -

it turned out to be an enlargement project on a church my

Grandpa had helped build 35 years earlier. 

He hadn't expected to ever find that church again,

let alone return to work on it once more with 

two of his grandchildren. 

It was amazing to be able to work alongside

the pastor, and even his own small grandchildren,

as we improved and repaired their home and church.

l-r: Missionary, my little buddy- Aylin, and I.

I knew absolutely nothing about tile and grout;

but after three days of non-stop tile work,

I feel pretty proficient. ;)

Despite the fact it's a country hidden in the Caribbean mirage,

it's still a hurting place. 

As much as I struggled with the Creole accent last time,

I truly didn't expect to understand much of anything -

(I certainly haven't studied any Spanish in the past two years.)

So it really struck me as a blessing from the Lord

that my comprehension, and even ability to have basic

conversations was so much greater this time.

I love it when the Lord makes it so obvious that it's Him.

Not me. 

My brother and I found photographer backdrop heaven...

And we found the propane guy again...

And we still complain about gas prices?...   ;)
(That may or may not be in Pesos...)

The increased ability to communicate, along

with lots of insight from a local missionary couple

helped to expand my understanding of this beautiful place. 

In the area we were working,

the clinic down the road receives several

cholera cases a week.

Sanitation, especially unclean water, contributes to this. 

"Dengue Fever" and other mosquito borne illnesses are also

a somewhat common issue.

The Haitian communities especially, are struggling.

Extreme poverty continues to hide in the shadows

of nearby resorts. 

And yet...

The Church is alive and well there.

What a blessing it is to worship alongside Dominican Christians.

Their joy is vibrant.

It doesn't matter how little they have,

or what struggles they are up against.

They testify that their God is greater -

and He continues to show Himself faithful.

A little friend at a local Haitian Church.

And as I've said before -

it becomes more and more evident,

it's when you have nothing else -

that you discover that He is truly all you need.

A 3rd trip seems unlikely, but my Grandpa's been back

8 times...

So we'll see what the Lord does in the future.

On the tearful morning we all parted,

the message exchanged was:

"No Adios, Hasta Luego!"

(Not Goodbye, See you later!")

 

10 year old Aylin, (pronounced Ilene) and I.
Work buddies. :)

Meanwhile,

We're back home;
 at the moment. :)

Faith like a Dandelion

The dandelions have already come to grace our lawn with their faithful presence. Some have even already spent their blooms, and are prepared to complete their little flower lives by spreading the joy. The neighbors will be so thrilled, I'm sure. 

I took a moment to admire these little guys one sunset a few days back, and for the first time in many years, I was filled again with the wonder of a dandelion. Just for a moment. It's my belief that dandelions are a child's right-of-passage into the world of rejoicing in God's handiwork. One of the first objects to be noticed. I've never met a little one that didn't think that they're just marvelous. We all picked them for every soul we knew, and proudly so; and those that survived in the yard to full maturity had their tiny parachutes blown to every corner and beyond. (I'll never forget that hot Summer day when some thoughtful little friends of mine filled my car with them as a sweet "Thank You." Ever... :) Heat does amazing things to dandelions...) Perhaps we'd love them so for the entirety of our lives, if the day didn't always come when someone finally gets the heart to break it to us:

"Sweetie....Dandelions are...actually...weeds."

For just one moment, pretend that your mother never got around to sharing those harsh facts with you. Imagine that those bright sunny faces are meant to be liked again. That's what I did that dusky evening. I wondered, I admired, and I got to thinking...

What a miracle it truly is, that such a teensy soft little thing as a dandelion seed, could fly so far. (Over 100 yards.) What a wonder that something so tiny-small could survive even long winters, and live to put its roots down so very deep, and grow so sturdy, so strong. To thrive, no matter where it lands. Even when so much effort is poured into stopping them; they cannot ever be completely overcome. Their name means "Lion Teeth." So strong, and ferocious. 

And it crept over my consciousness:

  "What if I had faith, like that?"

Faith is on my mind incessantly right now. This exhilarating process of learning to believe what God has said, not just with my mind, but with my life. And not just with little sections of it, but all of it. Perhaps that is why this picture comes with such clarity right now. 

I suddenly long to have faith, such as that. At this moment in my life, so many of the Lord's promises may seem so tiny and delicate, and even unlikely to the doubting eye. But as I examine this intricate design of His, I'm reassured: those little fluffy things will travel so much further than even I imagine, some may even land in the most unlikely places, but they will grow. They will thrive. Those promises will grow strong, deep, roots - and they will defy the poisons that are intended to destroy them. They will leave their eternal sunny stain on all that comes in contact with them. :) And in due season, they will spread, until there isn't even a corner of my life that isn't brimming with the Will, the Grace, the Mercies, and the overwhelming Faithfulness of my Heavenly Father. That's what I long for.

Perhaps that faith of a child that Jesus spoke of  has a little something to do with a child's attraction to these "weeds". As we give up our wonder over the little miracles like dandelions, we seem to give up our complete trust in the one that created them. 

I'm seeking for that simple faith again, the faith that takes God at His Word, and is willing to risk all for His sake. 

Faith like a dandelion.

"And Jesus said unto them...

If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed,

ye shall say unto this Mountain:

"Remove hence to yonder place;

and it shall remove;

and nothing shall be impossible unto you."

Matthew 17:20

"Whoso therefore shall humble himself as this little child,

the same is greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven."

Matthew 18:4

a promise in the sky

Friday afternoon, the storm clouds parted for just a moment -

and in the east, we spotted the biggest, brightest rainbow that 

we had seen in many, many years. 

It had begun to fade a bit by this point...

I was immediately reminded of God's promise.

"I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and

it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth.

Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears

in the clouds, I will remember my covenant between me and

you and all living creatures of every kind.

Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life.

Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it

and remember the everlasting covenant between God and

all living creatures of every kind on the earth."

Genesis 9:13-16

If you live anywhere in the Midwest right now,

you might need a reminder of that promise too. ;)

It's beginning to seem as if the rain will never stop!

But, for a little bit Friday, and then Saturday -

we had a short reprieve.

Time to work in the garden, and enjoy the apple blossoms.

Today,

it's raining again...

but I'm learning many lessons about trusting

in God's promises in all areas of my life.

He is good.

be not weary

It's cloudy again today, rainy, cold.

Sigh.

Between some pesky animals (with digging paws),

 the cold spells, and "endless torrential floods" of rain -

it's easy to feel that all of my hard work on our new garden

has thus far come to naught.

If the seeds weren't completely unsettled by the cat 

and the dog, surely they must've been frozen or washed away.

Discouraged.

A few days ago,

I was in the process of miserably staring through the

rain-streaked windows at my pitiful little garden.

So much hard work, so little reward.

At that moment, every situation facing me seemed so difficult;

I was sick of putting so much effort into projects,

only to have my work destroyed, or not appreciated.

I just wanted to give up.

For a moment I was tempted to doubt that it was worthwhile.

Those are always the instances when the Lord gives

me some hope; and this moment was no exception.

As I stared at that drowning garden,

and allowed myself to become frustrated and weary,
of all those areas that just don't seem worth the effort right now-
the Lord graciously brought a verse to my mind.
Just the sort of promise that I needed to be reminded of;
a verse that suddenly applied in a way I hadn't considered before:

"Be not weary in well doing: 
for in due season ye shall reap,
if ye faint not."

Galatians 6:9

What a perfect verse for this time in my life.

One I've often quoted before,

but never soaked in quite as fully as I am now.

I'll admit, as a single young woman who has chosen

to stay with my family and under my father's protection - 

it can sometimes be easy to see this phase of my life as

a lot of tilling hard ground, planting seeds,

and working through some rainy Spring days -

without a whole lot of substance to show for it.

(Not counting the obvious blessings of being with my
precious family - you know what I mean.)

It takes so much Faith.

Each decision, each step of sanctification and surrender

to the Lord, and His will for my life,

each act of obedience in the tasks I've been handed -

are like little hope-filled seeds.

And I'm called to keep planting them,

to keep cultivating them,

whether I can see the fruits immediately or not.

It's all about being faithful in the "little things" right now.

The cloudy days do come in life,

the seasons when you feel like you sacrifice so much -

and your efforts to human eyes seem a mockery,

or even a complete waste.

But for the Wisdom of a loving Father,

and His precious Promises.

I thought perhaps there is another young lady "out there"

who might at times find herself weary in well doing.

Don't be faint of heart or spirit,

we shall reap in due season.

Never forget where your treasure is.

Those seeds that I felt would never amount to anything,

have now emerged in the garden as tiny seedlings;

they didn't come up exactly where I planted them;  :)

but they are there.

And with time, there will be a harvest.

The Lord has promised.

my jasmine vine

Maybe one of these days I'll post more in detail about my new room...

But for now, as the snow piles up 'round our ears,

I thought I'd share my little bit of green life that keeps

my window sill looking cheery (and smells incredible...)

My jasmine vine.

It's growing so quickly... it will need a new pot soon.

 I found this lovely little thing at Trader Joe's

last week. I've been searching for just the right plant for awhile -

and was overjoyed to finally bring one home.

(Trader Joe's is indeed a wonderful place...)

So that's my little prelude to Spring for you;

now for another weekend of being snowed-in;

and knitting. :)

adventures in repurposing...

It's been a little quiet around here I noticed...

so I thought I would show you something that I've been up to.

In the process of emptying our old house, I came across

 this antique picnic basket.

It's rather on the large side, and takes up a lot of space,

and frankly, we just don't go on that caliber of picnics as often

as owning such a basket would suggest.

So.

It was suggested that we part ways with said picnic basket;

until I had an idea.

I happen to own a plethora of knitting needles,

(which get excessive use)

and as you might have noticed if you have some too -

they are somewhat bothersome to store at times.

Enter the picnic basket...

which happened to already boast a handy little

elastic strip across the lid - for storing picnic utensils I suppose;
(now perfect for needles)
and plenty of room for yarn and projects too.

So the basket lives on.

12 Months of Goodness; and Mayhem

Well, Shirley Goodness and Mayhem has made it -

through an entire year of ups and downs.

When I was a little girl,

I would often look back on a year that had passed,

and marvel at how slow it went,

how wonderful it was,

and how little life had changed.

In more recent years,

I've been more apt to look back and shudder

at how quickly time evaporates,

how drastically life changes;

and how difficult change can be.

Not so with 2010.

For more than half of it, I was certain that 

2010 would prove to be the most difficult year of my life thus far;

and that after being certain that 2009's challenges could 

never be topped...

But as the curtains drop, the lights come up, the credits roll,

- the beauty and the fullness of this year overwhelms me.

Not every month was as profound as others were,

but scrolling through my archives there were definitely photos

that could sum up the theme of a month pretty well;

so I have twelve of them.

January - old dreams answered, new burdens born.

All it takes is one glance of this photo for me to be back

in that bumpy bus seat, bouncing down the streets of Santiago.

I had been patiently waiting for my time to go on such a trip

for years; and have longed for another since I got back.

This photo is of the little beggar girl that broke my heart there.

January was a month of fear, stepping out, exhilarating 

adventures, miracles, and an aching heart.

And out of all that happened in that crazy month

(not the least of them being the start of this blog)

those dark, hurting, piercing eyes of that little girl in 

the street are what will always stick with me.

And twelve months later; they can almost sum up my year;

for their grip on me is stronger now than it was then.

February - Lambs. And more lambs.

New life, frost bite (well okay, not exactly), and parrot-cats perched on me.

What more need be said?

March - Spring on the farm...

More lambs, tulips, and lots of thought over passing time.

Though I only posted about it once, Numbering my Days 

weighed heavy on my mind.

April - Skirts for Haiti

April for me, can be entirely summed up in finally getting to see the 

end result of a whirlwind project - the sweet faces of little

Haitian girls, and the skirts that we were so blessed to be able

to get to them. Of course I wanted to be there more than anything

else that month. But God dropped an opportunity for us to be just 

a little bit of a help to them; and I was grateful for that.

May - an almost perfect month

When it comes to finding a day of beauty and perfection

that can't be improved upon; May seems to offer the widest selection.

At least in my opinion.

June - two decades completed; and Frances.

Remember Frances? The cute little unwanted lamb?

She was only here for a week before finding a new family,

but she sure got June off to a good start.

By the time June was over, I had two decades behind me.

The significance of that fact wasn't lost on me,

(those kinds of significance rarely are...)

My birthday is always a good heart-searching way to realize -

another year is half-way gone.

July - Loss.

I can't even let my mind wander back to the muggy days of

July without getting that lump back in my throat.

Within just a few weeks time,

we lost our big fluffy sheep dog, and among other things -

our house. 

We've lost more pets this past Summer than any other year;

Haggai, Madeline, Fiffen, Scooter... 

Not happy times, no, but pretty trivial on the list of all that 

could possibly go wrong in life.

But losing our old farmhouse seemed further up on that scale.

I've been in the process of letting go, and letting go, for

many years now; but hadn't ever been pushed quite to the edge 

of such radical surrender until those dark July days.

I'm so thankful now.

August - Goodbye, Old House.

It didn't all suddenly dawn on me this year;

but 2010 gave so many perfect opportunities to put my life 

lessons to the test.

At the end of August, I wrote a post about Madeline;

mainly focused on giving up an old cat friend of mine yes,

but summarizing the truth that - the emptier my life became

of the things I would never choose to give up; 

the more room there is for the Lord's will in my life,

and for the presence of the Lord Himself.

September - New life.

September was glorious, it really was.

It was so illustrative of the overwhelming joy that comes

after handing everything to God -

He gave us so much more than we had ever given up.

I wrote the most posts in one month in September;

fifteen to be exact -

it was just bubbling over with blessings, and joy,

and the optimistic hopes of a new beginning in a new home.

October - Texas.

That one word really truly can sum up October on its own;

for the entire month was indeed spent there!

After the dark, depressing Summer I'd just come through -

I didn't know how I could possibly handle Fall coming so quickly,

I felt like I had blinked and missed my favorite season.

But then I was handed a perfect, gloriously sun-shiney month 

in a absolutely gorgeous part of an awesome state.

October was a gift.

I still can't believe how blessed I was to have that month spent

catching up with old friends, making new ones, and just

having quiet time to think and regroup.

God is so good.

November - redefining Autumn for me.

It might be safe to say I enjoyed Texas too much, for I was 

thoroughly dreading a return to the frigid northern regions...

I expected November to be rude, abrupt, and dead.

The Lord surprised me with the most beautiful, warm,

and golden November that I can recall.

And even if it did snow on Thanksgiving;

I was ready for it.

December - the high water mark

I'll admit, December caught me completely off guard.

Eric Ludy's short film Depraved Indifference knocked my feet

out from under me early on in the month.

It felt like the moment this entire year has been leading up to,

it was a moment of finally being able to hear articulated what has

been keeping me up at night; that I simply couldn't explain.

It has been an absolute tsunami ever since.

First the Love the Church conference, and then faith-testing 

situations here at home, and listening to sermon after sermon;

(The majority at the moment - by Mr. Ludy at www.ellerslie.com) 

I love this photo above - (taken on the way to Love the Church) 

it's how I see life at the moment - 

going forward, gaining altitude, and sun spots.

Mr. Ludy talks about our Christian journey being an 'endless frontier',

and personally, I love that. I love adventure.

I've always been a little irked in my mind that there's not as many

'frontiers' left in this world - man has even been to outer space.

So I love that I can spend the rest of my life searching, digging,

and rejoicing greatly in all that I find - 

and yet knowing that there will always be more.

I'll never exhaust God's resources,

I'll never cease to be amazed by Him,

this journey will never grow old.

What an awesome promise that is!

Thank you all for being such faithful readers and friends in

my first year of blogging.

Looking foward to another year with great expectation,

Kate