This blog is about my journey in Christianity as I strive to follow the commands of Matthew 25. I want to love the "least of these", just as my Father has loved me. This blog covers my own personal struggles, my encouragement for others in the struggle, and hopefully a challenge for others to join me and others as we strive to love as Jesus did.
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Did I Hear God Right?
I first stepped on African soil nine years ago. I traveled to Ghana, West Africa, for a short-term mission trip, and my heart was changed forever. After my amazing experience, I longed to be a full-time missionary. When the timing seemed right, I left my career, sold my car, gave away most of my possessions, and moved to Ghana. I loved every second of being a missionary, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. But only seven months into my time there, my dream appeared to be coming to an end. My body started ailing, but I kept working—I didn’t want anything to interrupt my calling. It was my hope that I would be there for the rest of my life. But at church one night, my pain became overwhelming. I looked to my husband and whispered, "I need to go. I’m not well." to continue reading...
I introduce you to Samara* She's a lady I saw for a split second, but through
my friend she slipped me a couple pages of notes to share with me a snippet of
her life. Samara is a resident of a transformative community I volunteer for
named Butterflies15. Samara wishes she could turn back the hands of time…just
for a moment…just for a second. If she could have just a moment of her life
back she would make a different decision. She wouldn't have stepped into that
car…not that car…not that car with that person. Samara
writes to her younger self… I'm
writing you this letter to warn you…to warn you about that warm August day as
you were walking home. You had made up your mind to walk, but when that person
pulled up and offered you a ride…you let your tired feet and hot body take a
seat in his car. Why walk when you can ride? After all I know him…or least I
thought I did… You
see he looked so harmless, so why not get in? I mean it's not like I was
hitch-hiking…I know him… Wh…
Tuesday morning I woke up a 36 year old African American woman and 4 hours
later became a 75 year old white male. How? I participated in training on
poverty. I quickly settled into my new identity because I had a new life to
live and I had to survive in my new reality. I was asked to leave my true
identity at the door and mentally become another person. The requirement to
take on a new identity was part of the rules of engagement for this poverty
simulation. We had to put ourselves in the place of real people. We had to live
their reality. We had to endure the struggles they encountered daily just to
meet our basic needs. We spent our "days" and "weeks" going
from one place to another trying to care for our family. Our
community was comprised of businesses, community agencies, and a place of
worship. When the whistle blew in the room it began and ended our day. It was organized
chaos. It was a room full of people frantically moving about to pay their
Yesterday I attended a training on Latino culture. One of the topics covered included illegal immigration. We watched a film entitled, "Dying to Live: A Migrants Journey" In this video, a father described the pain he felt when his daughter looked at him and cried, "Daddy I'm hungry. Can I have something to eat?" The father describes how helpless he was because not only did they not have any food, but he also didn't have any money to buy food. Can you imagine?
I often get frustrated with my son because he will play with his food and throw it on the floor when he's done with it. I do not like wasting food because I've traveled to countries where people often have very little to eat. While I need to teach my son about the blessing of having food, I also need to be grateful that he has more than enough.
I certainly don't have all the answers to address the immigration problem in the US. However, I do know I felt emotionally paralyzed when I saw the …