Shaken Up

The Kenya trip—in a too simple metaphor, it was a spiritual snowglobe shaker. Just when you think things are a bit settled from the last shake, God comes and swirls the snow again. I do like it, but it’s hard, too, and it always takes me a bit to catch on that God is trying to speak to me about something.

My final year of teaching at Rim was one of walking with the Lord in lessons of common sense versus faith, security versus His invitation to something where I would meet Him in a new way. When I think about that time now, I wonder with a scrunched forehead how He got me to leave such a secure job and predictable situation to go to—no one knew what. I had no job lined up, little savings, and a car payment and half a mortgage. I remember that year as an incredible time, but when I really think about it now, I am amazed at what God prompted me to do, and how He provided the courage to do it.

It’s taken me a week to really think about some of the things that happened in Kenya, and to notice that God is using it to start a new conversation with me. Today was the day it dawned on me. Some of the themes of the conversation have to do with trust, sacrifice, joy, and priorities. All week my Bible and devotional readings seem to have been asking the question, "What are you clinging to? What and who do you really love?" Being in Idaho and taking this trip have meant meeting lots of new people who are asking what I do at MAF and why I do it. I get to tell a great story of how God led me into this work, and that I am still amazed that this is what He is allowing me to do with my life. Once I got home, though, it seemed He was asking me, "Is that what you still think—that I am amazing? Or have you become settled again spiritually? Where is your heart?"

The cool thing is, I didn’t hear those questions as condemnations, which is a change for me. I heard them gently, from the One who loves me, who wants to draw me closer. But I still was not sure that all the themes I was seeing in my reading were really there, and I did feel a little like I was clambering after the Lord saying, "Really? Are you sure you’re talking to me? What are you trying to say? Are you really trying to get my attention? Is this a personal chat or a general reminder about things?"

Today was one of those sweet, sweet days when it becomes obvious that it’s a personal chat. I love when God is in the details. This morning as I got ready for church, I flipped my "Names of God" daily calendar from January 26 to 27, on the way to 28. The name of God for the 27th was "Altogether Lovely". I flashed right away to one of my favorite songs, Tim Hughes’ Here I Am to Worship. It was one of the songs that God used to minister to my heart in my most homesick moment in Idaho.

I saw the calendar and thought about the question God has been asking me about Psalm 84, which I think the Lord gave to me just after I got home from Kenya for this year as an encouragement and more—a conversation about where my home really is. I think He has been using it to ask me whether I really believe that one day in His courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. Where are my elsewheres? How many do I have, that draw me from His courts? How deeply do I want to dwell with Him? Do I really believe that He is so Altogether Lovely that I will lay my heart down again for Him to refashion anew?

I thought, "It would be cool to sing Here I Am to Worship at church this morning. I’d love that." Well, guess what? Of course, that’s one of the songs we sang, along with a whole bunch of others to do with surrender. And the message was on the final chapter of Jonah, from a beautiful perspective of surrender. I cried through most of the music, mouthing the words when I could, so assured of His calm voice to me saying once again, "I am big enough. I love you enough. Rest, child. Change is coming, but it’s okay. I am doing something new. Trust me."

So, that’s the state of my snowglobe. And I am a mess in some moments, but mostly pretty happy to be shaken up.