A Life

There's a laugh to be heard,
A smile to be cherished.
There's a cry to be soothed,
A tear to be wiped away.
A life.
There's a heart to be loved,
A mind to imagine.
There's a soul to be saved,
A spirit to cherish.
A life.
There's legs to take long walks,
Ears to hear the birds singing.
There's hands to hold,
Eyes to see the beauty all around.
A life.
There's a destiny to be fullfilled,
A purpose for just one.
There's a life to be lived,
A baby to be born.
A life.
But.....
There's a devil who's bloodthirsty,
An evil that seeks to destroy.
There's a plan to be put in place,
A strategy to destroy before it begins.
A life.
There's a mother already lied to,
A father that's absent.
There's a doctor who is hardened,
A nurse who's ready to take,
A life.
There's a law in place,
A procedure that's "safe".
There's a lie that says there's nothing wrong.
A life is taken away.
A life.
But......
There's eyes that see,
A heart that breaks.
There's ears that hear
Eyes that cry for....
A life.
There's hands that hold,
Arms that hug,
There's a place to go,
A Being that cares for...
A life.
There's a God in heaven,
A God who's hates injustice.
There's a Son that lives,
A Son, Who long ago died for...
A life.

This Little Light of Mine

    This world is a funny place. So filled with darkness and pain, yet there's so much beauty and joy. The sorrows are too many and too great, and yet the smallest things like a setting sun, or a budding rose can show you the greatness of God. That He's in control. You can read the news and easily get depressed, thinking about how the world is so messed up! But then see the innocence of a child and know.... there's still something good.
     There's a place called Lamu, and as you may have heard, the darkness there is great. The population is something like 98% Islamic, and there's a spiritual heaviness that rests on that island. You see the ladies dressed in black. You hear the mosques at all times at night. You hear stories of abuse and divorce. You look for God in such a place, and you wonder..... where's the light? But there's a saying that I came to know as true when I went to Lamu, and it says: When it's darkest, God's light shines brightest. Amidst the thick darkness that covers Lamu like a blanket, the light that is there, is so brilliantly light. It's like when a prisoner is used to seeing the same four, blank walls for years and years, and is finally released. When he goes outside, and sees the richly blue sky, and the beautiful green trees, he doesn't take it for granted, but every color and sight is... meaningful. In Lamu, every prayer made, every ounce of love and compassion, is... meaningful. I'm not saying that it's less meaningful everywhere else, it's just so much more obvious there. It's a perfect place to learn about the awesome power and light of God. A place to learn that we posses that power and the light inside of us. The world is a dark and sad place, but God's light shines even in the darkest of places. There's beauty. There's peace. There's grace. There's love. But it's us, His people, that are responsible to bring all that about.
    So it's up to me. I can be depressed by all that I see around me. I can listen to report after report, thinking, "This world is too far gone!" I can choose to dwell on the darkness and the pain and the hurt..... but then it would remain just the same, wouldn't it? But if I stand up, and shine the light put inside of me, be the world changer God made me to be, and tell of the freedom I received when I acknowledged Christ died for me.... maybe this world would be a different place. I don't know... just a thought. :-)

Real

I can't pretend anymore. I want to be real.
I want my life to be about more than just what I feel.
I'm tired of pushing You aside in my heart,
But making sure my mask screams, "He's been the center from the start!"
I worry about what people will think and say.
With every action, thinking, "Well, will it pay?"
If it were all about actions, I'd take a prize
But it's not. It's about the state of my heart in God's eyes.
It's so easy to be a Christian, holy and faithful on Sundays,
But it's also easy to be a Christian, mediocre and untrue, the other days.
It's so easy to think no one will ever know.
And for a time, I'll just put up a show.
But that charade can only go on for so long.
The coming of Jesus, God shall not prolong.
And when He does come, what will I say?
"I'm sorry, Lord! I didn't know you were coming today?!"
I'm realizing there's no time to pretend.
Because soon this life will come to an end.
And when it does I want to know,
That my Christianity was for real, and not just a show.
So I pray that with every breath I'll strive,
To glorify Your Name, and do more than survive.
More than breath, more than see, more than be.
I want LIVE in light of eternity.

The Shattered Mirror

Walking to the mirror that dark, cold night, she raises her eyes to see her reflection.
Just like every night.
Every golden hair in place, skin glowing, and blue eyes shining. Every feature angelic.
She is perfect.
Slowly she raises her hand to touch the glass. Slowly,  gently raising her finger to the reflection of her soft pink cheek. But just as she touches it with the tip of her finger,
It shatters.
It shatters and falls to her feet. It shatters into a million pieces.
She screams!
Her reflection gone!
So attached to that one thing she was. She couldn't go on without it. The one that that gave her peace!
She waled and screamed, panic filling her soul.
What would she do?
What would she do without seeing her angelic reflection every night. Her reflection soothing her. Showing her that YES! She was beautiful. Helping her deny her true state.
She would shatter.
Shatter into a million pieces just like the mirror. Thinking of the glass that lay at her feet, she looked down into the broken pieces at her feet.
Her heart sank at what she saw.
For this time the mirror showed her true reflection.
Her inward one.
A reflection not of face, but of soul. A soul fallen and shattered. A life gripping an image of the physical so as to forget the inward lack of the spiritual.
An image now shattered along with the shattered glass.
But with this shattering, that reached all the way to her soul,
A glimmer of light.
"Light?" she thought.  She looked up and found it was coming from behind where the mirror had been hanging. But what was it coming from... She looked hard, trying to make out its shape.
She gasped.
She knew what it was! It was covered with filth, and dirt. It was battered and bruised. Filled with doubt, and pride. But... the light emanating from it, was...
Beautiful.
More than any image she had seen. Joy filled her soul, and the light became brighter.
She felt peace the mirror had never been able to give her, because she was no longer looking at her reflection.
But her heart.

Hold Out Your Heart

"No!" I don't want to let them in,

With all their baggage and their sin.

With their faith in a theory, an idea,

They come to get, only to get!

They seem to love, but it's only for their own benefit.

They pretend to care, so I hold out my heart,

Only to be left alone, so alone!

"No!" I don't want to let them in.

I want to protect this already bruised heart,

I should'nt have let them in from the start!

Then I see a man walking down a road,

Surrounded by a crowd, yet alone, so alone!

He is beaten, and he is broken,

Yet He holds out His heart and cries,"Will you take it?"

I want to shout, "Let it all go! The pain isn't worth it!"

The Man beaten and broken looks up at me,

His eyes filled with sorrow,

But also a love, such great love!

I gasp, as realization sinks in.

This is Jesus, Messiah, Savior of my soul!

"The pain is worth it,"

He said looking straight to my soul,

"Because they are worth it."

"I bore the cross if shame and rejection;

I shed my blood... because YOU were worth it.

Hold out your heart, it hurts, I know,

To be rejected, to be left alone.

But how else will they know?"

" How else will they know what?"

I ask so painfully aware of my state.

So selfish! I don't want to let them in!"

"How else will they know you are my disciple

If you don't hold out your heart no matter the cost?

So hold out your heart."

The Feeding Program

Each day is basically the same as I take the same, long walk towards a place that has begun to hold a very dear place in my heart. The first day that I took this long walk I asked a question. A question I later came to find out was not an uncommon one for visitors: Are we there yet? It's not that this place is extremely far, but with the sun, which can sometimes feel like it's multiplied into four, beating on your back, and the sand under your feet, making it difficult to walk, it might as well be the end of the earth! :-) But that first day when I reached this place, sweating profusely and out of breath, my breathing stopped altogether. Not necessarily because of the view, which was very gorgeous, with palm trees and bushes surrounding the property and sand dunes in the near distance. That's not why my breath caught that day, though. It was the sight of 70 kids coming up to us shyly putting one hand over the other and setting them before us to "chum". Someone exlpained to me that I was supposed to place my hand over both of theirs. I did so, and then knew my heart was gone, when they one by one lifted my hand to their lips to kiss it. Every day I would walk that long walk, teach the kids the same thing, and feed them the same uji. Sometimes I would get there feeling so tired from the long walk, only to hear "MADAAM!!!" as soon as the kids saw me walking up the path. How can you continue to feel tired when you see a bunch of kids running to see who will be the first to greet you and carry your bag the whole 3 remaining meters of the journey??

I used to suffer from a heart condition called hardness. The symtons are lack of love and compassion for others. But how could my heart stay hard when looking into the big brown eyes of children who don't know the great and amazing love of Jesus? How could I remain compassionless when hearing my 10 year old student, with hardness in her eyes, tell me how she had been assaulted by a teenage boy? How could my heart remain unmoved and unbroken knowing all this and not being able to share my Savior's love with them? You see.... these beautiful children were born into a Muslim community, where the name of Allah is praised, and the Name of Jesus despised. How could my heart not be compelled to find a way, whether through simply loving them, or through my continuous prayers, to reach out to them?

This place, yes it's far, and you must sacrifice sleep and energy to get there. But sometimes while walking there, I think of how far Jesus had to come to save us. How many sacrifices He made to free us. And suddenly this place doesn't seem so far, nor the sacrifices too many.

Sadly, my time at this place is drawing to a close. And as the day I am to depart draws close, my heart tears a little more. Every face flashes before me, and I know I'll never forget one. Because each face represents a heart that I pray I've changed, and I know has changed mine.

So what's it gona be?

So what's it gona to be?
It can't be both you'll soon see.
My heart is not alive in any way,
because of all the little things I do and say.
I'm here, but I'm so not here,
in all the ways that matter I fear.
It's like standing at a door,
hearing the sound of the desperate and poor,
right on the other side,
but all I want to do is hide.
It's the call of responsibility.
So what's it gona to be?
It can't be both you'll soon see.
No way I can serve my flesh,
and God both. The two don't mesh.
Can you really change this heart?
I think you can, and know in part,
It's up to me.
So what's it gona to be?