My trip is now paid for. And yet again I have a good story about it.  

First – this is what I had written at 6:30pm on Monday night:

I only have $840 to go!  $340 needed by the 6pm service this Sunday 10/28 (yes, they were that specific), and then $500 by 11/18.  I don’t know why I doubt God when He always takes care of these trips for me.  Typing that sentence I am convicted because I didn’t leave it with, “always takes care of me.”  I was specific in how I perceive God providing for me. I believe he has taken care of my mission trips in the past.  But do I believe that He really takes care of me in every way and all the time?  Possible future blog topic.

There is no update to the unexplained fudge on my apartment door.  I do not believe someone is out to poison me. I also do not believe it was a surprise from a friend, as few people know where I live (Hospitality is not one of my official Spiritual Gifts.) Therefore, the only logically explanation is that somebody got the wrong door and meant to poison my neighbor.  Ha!  

I am thinking about considering possibly maybe blogging about my efforts to spend some time alone with God each day (in the Southern Baptist world, this is Having a Quiet Time. I do think people can be legalistic about QTs.  I don’t want to do something because “good” Christians do it. Or to check something off a To Do list.  Or so I can tell my mentor that I had one.  But I do want to hear from God.  

I’m jealous because God talks to my bf Kevin.   (When I typed boyfriend I felt like I was in 7^th grade, so I changed it to “bf” because that sounds SO much mature, right?)  God told Kevin not too long ago to buy me a laptop.  When all he wanted to do was pick up some toilet paper at Walmart.  When he said, "Hey boy," (that’s how God addresses him), "put down the toilet paper and go look at the computers," it was about much more than God telling him to be generous and thoughtful.    It was God telling Kevin to put his money where his mouth was.  Because having your girlfriend go on a mission trip right on top of our first Christmas together…when he had fun plans for us to visit our families together, participate in my annual nursing home caroling event, go to a Christmas Eve service together, watch my niece and nephew and his kids unwrap presents…well, that’s hard to hear.  And although Kevin told me he was fine with it, God knew he was harboring some resentment.  So as he weighed the benefits of Charmin versus Cottonelle, God said, "Boy, if you say you love her, you will support her 100% percent, with your words and your heart."  He also said, "Boy, if you love ME the way you say you do, you will WANT her to go on this trip."

He knew my ancient desktop had died recently, and I was trying to raise money for this trip but needed a computer, too.  So after trying to ignore God, which is pretty much impossible, he gave up and obediently proceeded to the electronics department and bought me a brand new laptop.  It was his way of telling me...and God...I am “all in” with this.

I wish God spoke as tangibly to me.  But it probably helps that Kevin dedicates a good amount of time to studying the Bible and praying.  So what’s holding me up?  Why do I see it as a chore?  Why do I feel like even if I did dedicate that time to God I wouldn’t hear from him?

I started the book, Anything, by Jennie Allen last night. She talks about saying to God, what do you want from me?  I’ll do anything.  What do you want me to let go of, do, give up, change?  And how praying that prayer changed her life.  As I walked into work this morning I told God, I want to pray that, but I’m not even sure if you are listening.  Are you real?     

So that’s what I had written at 6:30pm on Monday night.

At 7pm God was real to me.

At 7pm the rest of my mission trip was paid for, in one lump sum from a completely unexpected source.  So unexpected that I really feel like it was God sending me a message.  Not just that he will always take care of my needs. But it was Him saying, hey, don’t doubt I’m here.  Don’t doubt I’m going to use you.   I see you.  And with that confirmation came a kick in the pants.  I had been feeling like God is mildly disappointed in me the majority of the time.  Like he says, Seriously, Laura?  You haven’t progressed any further as a Christian?  And I’ve been feeling like he was going to finally get fed up and teach me an unpleasant lesson.  But like Jon Acuff says in a recent blogpost, what kind of God am I imagining?  One that is just sitting back waiting for me to screw up again and then smite me while saying, See? I told you to obey me. 

But no, he gave me a kick in the pants in the kindest, most loving way.  With that that check for $1000, he showed me, I’m going to use you, and you need to be prepared. Don’t keep wasting your time.  I have things for you to do.

Can't you just see me in an Indiana Jones hat?

I wanted to trek through jungles sporting an Indiana Jones-ish hat.  Or maybe climb mountains to reach remote villages, returning home with a Jillian Michaels body.   Oh, the difficult decisions when researching Brook Hills mission trip offerings last year; how would I decide which country I wanted to see the most?

Was it possible my motives were not ideal?

So, I didn’t go on a trip last year.  And may not have gone on one this year if I had not read this post on my friend Jenny’s blog.  So I did what she did; I asked the church what trips needed people the most instead of asking myself where I wanted to go.  I got an email back saying we need people on a trip to India, and by the way, would you lead it?  You would just need to be very organized, reliable, and make sure everything runs smoothly during the trip.

Flash back to the fall of 2010.  To help my friend, Dave, who’s leading the mission trip to Cuba I’m on, I have offered to keep up with all the money, receipts, and monetary transactions.  We have a layover in Mexico, and I’m enjoying a great quiet time on the terrace outside the hotel.  A little later we are gathered in Dave’s room for a team devotional.  Someone is sharing verses on worry.  I think smugly, I’m not one of those anxious travelers.  I’m easy-going and flexible!  I’m not worried about customs, flying, or being questioned as we enter Cuba; I’m not worried about anything!

Oh crap.  Where’s the money?  Where is my adorable Kavu purse that makes me look young and hip?  Where’s my adorable Kavu purse that has ALL THE MONEY FOR OUR TRIP IN IT?  It’s on the terrace of a slightly sketchy hotel in Mexico.  That’s where it is.  Ok, if I run out of the room right now I’ll have to confess my egregious mistake to Dave, and he will a) retract my money handling duties, thus adding more stress to his life or b) he will want to retain his faith in me but will worry the entire time about my reliability.  I sit on the bed, cold sweat pouring down my back, feeling sick with…worry. Yes, I am WORRIED. We finally finish the longest prayer in the history of prayers, and I make a mad dash to the lobby of the hotel.  I am waved down by a hotel attendant who is holding my purse. With all of the money intact, not to mention my passport.  And Dave remains confident in my ability to assist him. 

No, maybe I’m not the best person to lead a trip to India.  So, like the responsible person I am, I ignore the email.  Because although I do believe I could keep up with the trip money (I never, ever took that purse off except right before I slipped under the covers at night. And I put it back on when I sat up in bed the next morning), leading a trip scared me.  But after a few weeks, I do email back and find that the trip is already full.  In fact, the Brook Hills website has no more open trips for 2012. Well, maybe next year.

Then I get an email asking if I’m interested in a trip to East Asia over Christmas. It’s a very small team, and the purpose is to support a university teacher there who is a believer.  She hosts gatherings in her home for students who are atheists, Muslim, and Buddhist, where the students practice their English, socialize and study the Bible. The students are very interested in American culture, and she has requested that a team come over during Christmas to have Christmas parties, with the goal of sharing the Gospel as the team talks about American holiday traditions.

From what I understand, most of the students in this culture give little thought to what happens after they die, and the Gospel is a foreign concept to them. The team will help the partner strengthen relationships with the students she is investing her life in.

I’ll leave the process of how I came to say yes to the trip for my next post.  In the meantime, if you would like to support me, I have to come up with $2500 for airfare, housing, and food, with $2000 of it due October 21^st.  Yep, that’s a lot. Yep, that’s soon.  If you were even thinking about getting me a Christmas present, please feel free to donate that money early to my trip!  The donation will:

·         Increase your tax return.

·         Give you warm fuzzy feelings inside knowing you are helping in the spread of the Gospel to college students who have never heard* of Jesus.

·         Give you permission to ask me (after November, please) to buy junk stuff that your kids are selling at school.

·         Make you more invested in the trip, thus causing you to pray more for me. Because if you are going to give me your hard earned dollars, then you are going to want to make SURE God does something great with our team and those students, right?

*Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.  How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!”  Romans 10:13-15

See the sidebar about how to donate.  And stayed tuned for the next post; I’m back!

Packing and Poop

I’m leaving for Cuba in less than 12 hours and I’m not packed. So why am I sitting at my computer writing this blog? Because I’m supposed to give a 20 minute “sermonette” while I’m there, and I have no idea what to talk about. I’m sure all the others have spent the last few months diving into scriptures, poring over Greek root words, practicing their talks with friends. If God doesn’t let me fall flat on my face to teach me a lesson about procrastination, it will be a miracle.

The problem is, that as the date has gotten closer and closer, I’ve started thinking, maybe I made this whole God thing up. Or, maybe he’s around, but he cares about other people, not me. Or he’s so frustrated by my lack of quiet times and repeatedly dealing with the same sins over and over, that he’s washed his hands of me and is just going to leave me in my spiritual infancy like a baby sitting in his own poop.

Then I remember, first of all, I didn’t even choose to believe all this crazy Jesus stuff. I just heard the Word spoken Sunday after Sunday and God opened my eyes so that I saw it as truth.

And sometimes it’s HARD to be a believer. If it wasn’t true, I wouldn’t necessarily wish it on everyone. It’s popular to go on humanitarian mission trips, but it’s not popular to go tell people Jesus is the only way to God. It’s not easy to practice self discipline when you want to indulge in worldly desires. It’s not easy to wrestle with sin and guilt and faith and grace and the tension between free will and the sovereignty of God. And feeling like prayer is useless, but knowing God uses our prayers as his means to accomplish his will. And not understanding why he uses suffering to bring people closer to him. All of that swirling in your head all the time isn’t EASY. I wouldn’t choose to wrestle with this stuff if it wasn’t true.

So, for me, Christianity isn’t about living my “best life now.” So why do I continue believing? Because once you see the truth, you can’t turn your back on it. Like in John when Jesus tells his followers that they need to eat his flesh and drink his blood, and (not being big Twilight fans) many of his disciples said, this is too crazy, we’re out of here. And Jesus asks Peter if he’s going to leave him, too. And Peter says, (in my mind slightly wearily and with a sigh), Where else can we go? Actually the real words are worth quoting here:

"Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God."

That brings me to tears, because it’s how I feel like right now. Sometimes I wish I could turn to someone/something else, but where would I go? I have heard the Word, I have believed, and I know Jesus is the Holy One of God. When I doubt I’m saved, I need to remember this. It’s a done deal for me.

So, I’m afraid I’m making the Christian life sound joyless, which it is not at all. When I compare the freedom and hope I have now with my past endless search for meaning in everything from new age books to boys (and stuff you do with boys), partying, work, travel, etc., then I see how much better life really is. I tried to imagine the other day what it would be like if I could stop believing. If I could go back. And I pictured myself living it up, doing all the things I’m tempted to do sometimes. And I felt that desperation I used to feel…the feeling of…if this life is all there is, then I have to get more, do more, be more. And it was tiring. And unsatisfying. And definitely not peaceful and joyful. And despite the funks I get in now and then, there is an incredible freedom and peace in realizing, this life is temporary. No matter what happens here, it won’t last forever. And then there will be ETERNAL freedom and joy.

And when I feel like I’m stuck in spiritual infancy and God has given up on me, I get little glimpses of how cool he is and how far I’ve come. I recently reconnected with an old friend who has become a believer in the last few years. And I was telling my sister how CRAZY it was that I was talking to him about GOD and JESUS, like it was the most normal thing in the world. We were not believers when he knew each other ten years ago. And now we’re sitting here quoting scripture! What???? And she told me about a time a few years ago, driving home after having dinner with me, thinking how CRAZY it was that she and I had spent the entire meal talking about God. That was not the sister she knew. I love being reminded of the change God has made in my heart. From telling my friends, "I’m not sure there is a God," to telling them I’m going on a mission trip to share the gospel.

I don’t think I could have made this up. And I don’t think he will let me sit in my poop forever. He’s got plans for me. I’m scared. But I’m going to pack and be ready.

Gulp. I've committed to Cuba....

Yes, it’s that time again! Time to hit up all my friends for money! Don’t you just love that? I do hesitate to ask for money (believe it or not) and was talking to someone about that, and they said that when people contribute financially, they are more invested in your trip and are more likely to pray for you. And sometimes other people are not able to go because of family, work, etc., and this is a way they can support missions so they LOOK for opportunities to give. That’s cool! Where are you people that are looking for opportunities? Because I’m here!

So – destination: Cuba!! October 23-30, 2010

We will be going to support house churches over there. No I cannot bring you back any cigars! Well, I could try…we can talk later. (If the US Govt is reading this, I’m just kidding!!) Here is some info from Voice of the Martyrs (a non-profit interdenominational Christian organization that assists the persecuted church worldwide):

Cuba stands as one of the greatest “champions” of communism. Fidel Castro came to power in 1959, threatening Cubans with socialism or death. In February 2008, as his health declined, President Fidel Castro turned power over to his brother Raul Castro. Observers hoped the change in leadership would bring more openness, but some Cuban Christians say it has gotten worse.

Category: Restricted Nation
Religion: Christian 46.88%, Non-Religious/Other 35.47%
Ideology: Communism
Head of State: President Raul Castro Ruz

In the 1960s, Castro promised to rid the country of religion within 10 years. Forty-eight years later, there are eight times more Christians than before. Out of the population of 11 million, nearly one million are believers. Strict regulations against house churches went into effect in September 2005, prohibiting a church from being located within a mile and a quarter of another of the same denomination and restricting meetings to three per week. Other regulations require building permits for constructing new churches, and these permits are never granted. Christians circumvent these rules by building churches without walls. In 2009, 30 pastors were arrested in Santa Cruz del Sur, Camagüey, for planning a convention for 200 other pastors. Pastor Gude Pérez has been in prison since May 2008 on charges of human trafficking. Most people believe, however, that Pastor Pérez is being targeted for his role in a fast-growing Christian organization. The prosecution accused the pastor of “counter-revolutionary conduct and attitudes” and “illicit economic activity.” He faces a seven-year prison sentence.

I am excited and worried. Not because I’m afraid of any physical harm or discomfort. I’m extremely anxious because I don’t know what we will be doing over there…because I feel unprepared…because I don’t know Spanish…because I think other people are more qualified to do this than I am. Therefore, I need your prayers that God will use me to accomplish His will and that I will use my preparation time wisely.

And, of course, I need your money. The trip is $2200. I got my first $25 today from a lovely woman named Shelley who bought my tv. So with that and my $100 deposit, I have $2075 to go! If you feel so inclined (or “led” as we say in Christian-speak) to contribute, you can send me a check to my NEW address of:

2151 14th Avenue South
Apt. 8
Birmingham, AL 35205

Or you can send a check directly to the church. I would love it if you let me know so I can thank you; they do not notify us of individual contributions. Here are instructions on mailing to the church:

Please make your check payable to The Church at Brook Hills. Include a notation in the memo line that states "appealed by [team member's name]" and the trip dates and location. Checks may be mailed to:

The Church at Brook Hills
Attn: Global Disciple-Making
3145 Brook Highland Parkway
Birmingham, AL 35242

I promise I will blog more about last year’s South Africa trip!!!! I am a year behind! Will you also pray that I stop being so lazy?

Eternity freaks me out

Confession: I used to panic when I thought about heaven. The thought of doing anything for ETERNITY totally freaked me out. And the stereotypical image of streets paved in gold and wearing angel outfits didn’t really float my boat. Why would I want to hang out on a gold street? Just what about THAT would make me so happy? And I guess it would be cool to have wings and all, but what are we doing to DO for ETERNITY?

So, the concept of eternity still freaks me out a little, but in South Africa I had a moment where I thought, if this is just a tiny glimpse of heaven, I’ll take it. We are walking down Rhenos Mountain with the beauty of South Africa spread before us, and Annette, Nelson, and Bon Jovi (more on them later) are walking behind me and singing worship songs in Zulu in harmony. And I thought – this is it. This is what it’s all about. Praising God with beautiful harmonies while surveying his handiwork.

If I don’t see my South African friends again on earth, I’ll see them in heaven. And I’ll be harmonizing with the best of them. I can’t wait.

Watch out - I may start dancing in church

Worshipping at Refilwe Community Center- the organization we worked with in South Africa. I so wish we would all dance more in church!

The fish story - aka I can now (most of the time) pray in public without getting the heebee jeebees

What’s different from last year:

As I’ve mentioned earlier, going on the mission trip last year was a complete accident. I wasn’t the “mission trip” type of girl; I was just along for the ride. And, forgive the tangent I’m about to go on, but what I gained far outweighed what I gave. For one, I acquired a fantastic “small group.” For those of you not hip with contemporary church lingo – this is a cross between a Sunday School class and...family. I thought I wanted to be in a “small group” of singles in their early 30’s (because that’s who I usually have the most in common with – at least life stage wise.) More boys than girls. And strong Christian leader kind of boys – the kind who would pray with you, drink a beer with you, and were also very cute.

Instead I’m in a group ranging from young to well...I won’t say ages, but grandchildren are involved. There are a few of us singles, but mostly married. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. We don’t talk about marital status very often. What we do talk about is how to live out what we believe. Faith, lack of faith, love, hypocrisy, the nature of the Holy Spirit, sex, doubt, prayer, money. I can cry, I can talk about people raising their hands in church when they sing (do I think that’s weird? Do I want to do that, too?) I can stop a prayer and say, so how are we doing this – is just one of us praying? Or are we going to leave it open until it gets uncomfortable and then someone closes? Or are we officially going to go around the circle so we know what order we are going in? I love it that there is a group that I have the privilege to belong to that is committed to coming together and supporting each other – for better or for worse. So much more than a Sunday School class. Definitely more like sitting around at Thanksgiving dinner and thinking, this is my crazy family that I love so much. And they will always love me because they have to.

So it’s June 2008. We are in a tiny airport somewhere in Mexico on our way to Los Mochis. Not anywhere near a city with cabs, hotels, etc. Just land and dust as far as you can see and the little commuter type of planes you walk out on the runway to get on. We are told three of us don’t have a seat and will have to stay there to wait for another flight the next day. And, of course, this just won’t work. We are standing in the middle of the airport and someone says, let’s pray about it. Everyone starts circling up – all twenty something of us. I am incredulous. And slightly horrified. We are seriously going to stand in a circle in the middle of an airport and pray? We are THAT kind of people? Someone should have let me in on this before I agreed to go. What are people going to think about us? That we’re a bunch of crazy religious fanatics? I’m of the school that prayer is private. And quiet. You don’t call attention to yourself.

And I’m a bit cynical. I think no matter what happens we are going to say oh, it’s “meant to be.” So why are we even praying? But we join hands and pray. And three gentlemen agree to give up their seats for us. This itself doesn’t strike me as a “God thing.” (Although, a now very good friend kindly suggests that I shouldn’t call some things “God things,” because in reality everything is a “God thing.” But you know what I mean.) So John Brown goes over to say thank you and kneels to pray with them. Again, I’m a little embarrassed. But he comes back and tells us that they are going on a fishing trip. And he tells them we, too, are fishers...fishers of men. Hmm...pretty cool, I think.

So, now we are in Los Mochis and gathered to talk about our plans. Chad passes out an unexpected surprise...shirts that say, “fishers of men.” Ok, this is getting cooler by the minute. But wait...it gets better. The next morning I open up my kit to see what we are teaching the kids. (Granted, I should have already looked at this, but I’m notorious for extreme procrastination.) So those of us in charge of kids gather to rehearse Vacation Bible School...and yes, it’s the story of Jesus calling Simon Peter, Andrew, James, and John to follow him and become...fishers of men. I get little chills all over. AND...the craft for the day is making bracelets with fish on them to symbolize what we are all called to do.

Now it’s the end of the week, and we are on the flight back to the states. And guess who is on the plane with us. You got it...the three fishermen. They took a detour because they got a free flight within Mexico for giving up their seats for us and had the best trip they’ve ever had – more fish than they’ve ever caught. At this point I can’t even talk about fish without getting all teary. I wore that tacky fish bracelet until it broke. And it’s still on my nightstand.

Just one small difference from last year to this one:

July 2009. We are in the Atlanta airport waiting for our flight to Johannesburg. 16 of us…and we don’t know each other every well. We are a random group of people who somehow individually felt like we should sign up for an AIDS Hospice Mission. We are in a crowded waiting area and about to board soon. And again, I’m incredulous, but for a different reason this year. Are we not going to pray together before we start this trip???? How can we even think about beginning this trip without group prayer??? I make the suggestion and someone says, of course…do you want to lead it? Sure, I would be glad to. We gather, and I start to pray aloud for what we are about to do.

This is somewhat of a miracle.