in His hands

It only took TWO seconds.  And she was gone.

Lily had finished eating her lunch before us, and was playing with the leaves of a bush right behind me while we ate.  A few seconds later, I said to Matt, "Can you see her?"

"No, but she was JUST right there," he said, and went back to eating while I jumped up to herd her back.

She wasn't by the bushes.  She wasn't in the yard.

"MAATTTT!"  He came to help me, and what was a quick grab quickly turned into a complete nightmare.  I started running down to the water, didn't see her.  through the patio restaurant, around the yard.  Lily was gone.

Almost immediately a French family previously mis-stereotyped as snooty jumped up and started running in other directions, calling for Lily.  The staff jumped into action, running into the kitchen and other doorways near our table, and we continued to search further and further from the bushes.

Several of the staff got on their cell phones, and vocalized the pounding fear in my stomach, "KIDNAPPED.  Little foreign girl.  Yellow hair.  About 2."

"KIDNAPPED." I hear another tell who-knows-who on the other end.  Several recent kidnappings were on everyone's mind.

"KIDNAPPED." The guys at the front gate, contacts in the community, local leaders were all being contacted.

It had been several minutes now, and while Matt's heart was telling him, "She is fine.  You just have to find her" my heart was telling me "kidnapped.  drowned.  hit by a car.  gone" all at the same time.

"Oh God!" I cried out, clutching my chest and just terrified like I have never been in my life.  "HELP me."

She was nowhere, and out of desperation, we left the beach/eating area and started raiding the hotel area.  I ran into the first building and charged up the stairs, only to turn onto the second story and see Lily, standing on the landing of the third story, staring at me.  Staring at me, like, "Well, it's about time.  Where have you been?"

Gosh, I'm crying again just telling you about it.

I hate that I fled from my trust in the Lord so quickly.

I know lots of people have this story.  My own mom used to tell us about the day she lost my big brother at the mall, and about how terrified she was.  She finally ran to the department store security in tears, chocking out a description of my curly haired chunky brother, only to have the police question if the missing child looked exactly like the little boy she had hanging on her hip.

Like my brother, Lily was never not fine.  She was fine.  Not so much as an additional mosquito bite.  She darted into the hotel.  She shimmied up the stairs.  She was trying to find out where they went.

What was a five minute adventure for Lily literally cut me to the quick.  I've never experienced anything like it.  One moment, things were good.  Three minutes later, I felt that my life was over.  Gone.  Kidnapped.  And two minutes after that, by His grace and under His care, He restored it.

Lily quickly forgot the moment.  I feel like I never will.  The whole rest of the otherwise BEAUTIFUL 24 hours at the beach, I clutched her to my side.  Even when she was with Matt, if they were gone for more than five or six minutes, I went to find them.  I fought to sleep last night, constantly playing over all of the "could have's" and "what if's" in my mind, ending always with the unanswerable, "What would we do without Lily?"

I remember once, a few years ago, when curious 3 year-old Gideon drank a cup of Kool-Aid colored Anti-Freeze.  I hardly knew his mom Cammie at all back then, but I remember talking to her about the scare the next day.  As a nurse, she was more aware than anyone the very potential outcome of the situation, but she said to me, "You know?  I never didn't have that peace.  I took action, I did what I could.  And I don't mean that I had peace that he was going to be ok.  I just TRULY knew that even if the Lord took Gideon, that it would be ok somehow, because of Him in my life."

Only just pregnant at the time, I didn't know what to say to that.  Remembering it now, I still don't know what to say to that.  I wish that the staff and families at the beach yesterday had seen a very urgent, but fully relied upon the Lord mother yesterday.  I wish that I had found it easier to TRUST Him with her NOT just when she was also conveniently happy, healthy in MY arms.  I wish I wasn't STILL catching myself overcome with panic of what could have happened.

While I thought I was dying on the beach, His eye was on her each fleeing step, He heard each little grunt up each stair, watched her little pony tail droop over her forehead while she waited for me to find her.

As dear as this precious gift He has given me is, I forgot quickly yesterday that she is just that: HIS.  His gift to me, as mine to give back to Him.  I know that ANY mother would have been shaken by the same situation.  But I have to keep remembering that Lily is HIS, not mine.  His child, not my LIFE.  His gift, not my god.

If she is truly His, and not mine, then He is the one ultimately taking care of her.  I'm going to mess up.  I'm going to look away for a moment, speak out of anger one time, make a poor decision.  BUT HE'S NOT.  Not ever.  Not ever going to mess up with Lily.  Not ever going to look away.  So do I trust Him with His own creation?  Or not?

Aside from that awful five minutes, those 24 beach hours were a complete blessing, full of good food, great family time, good rest, good weather, good conversation, good time with the Lord and happy happy memories.  After a busy start to the school year and Matt's days in Port, it was fantastic to have a few hours away from internet, phones, laundry, dishes and to-do lists and just focus on the Lord and the family He has given us in each other!

Thank you for your ever-prayers for protection, strength and wisdom.  Thank you for your prayers for dear Lil. Please continue to pray that we would grow in our relationships with Him to be ALL that He desires them to be.

settling for bed sheet security

When we were little, my sister had a theory that no amount of common sense could steer her away from.  As long as she had a sheet covering her, there was no bad man, no monster, no scary dream that could touch her.

No matter how hot it was, she had that sheet tucked up under her chin to keep her safe, and made it  a habit to never let her toe peek out or her arm dangle dangerously outside.  As she got older, we would laugh about that almighty sheet, which somehow gave her peace of mind though it had no power to protect her.

Yesterday evening, with John and Dorothy gone with the truck, Matt nine hours away, and no electricity, I felt like my little sister without a sheet.  Somehow, I had gotten comfortable with the idea that lights equal security.  Having Matt in the other room.  Having students living next door.  Having a vehicle to flee in, if necessary.

And being on the compound entirely alone with Lily last night in the pitch dark had me wrestling with fear.  If we had had lights, I wouldn't have thought twice.  But feeling my way through the house for a match and a candle had me checking all the locks, checking all the rooms for lurking strangers, thinking about all the things that could possibly go wrong.   Somehow along the way, I have put my security in light bulbs, a tiny little inanimate object that couldn't possibly keep me safe from a mosquito, much less a break in or emergency.

Lily couldn't sleep due to the intense heat and swarming mosquitos, and as I laid on the floor next to her bed, singing her songs, I realized how my situation came dangerously close to the travesty spoken about in Romans 1, that I have been teaching my second year class.

"For even though they KNEW God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened.  They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator!"  

Far be it from me to exchange the protection of an all-knowing, all-seeing, all-powerful Creator for the foolish speculation that a lightbulb, or my husband, or a vehicle, or a baseball bat...a thin sheet...could protect me!

As I thought through this with my mind, God absolutely brought a verse that I haven't thought about in years to my heart: "The Lord is my Light and my Salvation, whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the stronghold of my life--of whom shall I be afraid?"  Psalm 27:1.

My LIGHT.  That was all I wanted last night:  Light, and Salvation from not just harm, but fear.  And in the same moment He gave me the verse that I had mindlessly memorized as a child, He gave me that, too.  I truly believed, with my whole heart, that HE was my Light and my salvation, the stronghold of my life, and immediately, the fear was gone.  I scooped up tossing, itching Lily and walked out into the night, no longer cowering in the false security of four block walls.

The night air was twenty times cooler than the still air inside, and the quarter moon shown so brightly that His light illuminated our path.  She fell asleep as we walked, pointing her chubby finger at the "MOON!" and "Twinkle Twinkles!" (stars).

You might think that I credit far too much as being miracles.  I tell you about miracles every week, and maybe that doesn't seem possible to you.  But what God did last night for me was a miracle.

I had a heart and a spirit of fear.  I sat in the dark afraid and alone, and in a mater of minutes, where NOTHING changed, He spoke to my heart and changed EVERYTHING.  Even if He had come down in the form of an angel and fixed the generator last night, I would not have had the same joy, peace, and protection that I had last night basking in the Light of His Salvation.

What are your bedsheets today?  Maybe, like me, you don't even know that they are there!

I am so thankful that He allowed all my comforts to be stripped away last night so that I could realize where I had been relying on creation, when I COULD be relying on the Almighty Creator!

Matt and the group arrived safely yesterday after only 9 hours on the road, and just in time for a bit of rest and then a large service last night.  Over 100 people came, and the staff and students did an awesome job leading and ministering to those dear ones.  Matt had the opportunity to preach, and fifteen people stayed afterwards to talk to the Emmaus community about receiving the God of Matt's sermon in their lives.

When I spoke to Matt last night, he was overflowing with Hallelujah's, grateful for the direct and beautiful way that God had brought them to the right place at the right time for the right reason, and brimming with pride at how the Emmaus community had displayed passion, humility, and servant leadership to the homeless and still devastated group of His creation in Diquini.  These next days promise to be exciting!

Thank you for your continued prayers!  Today, Gertha, Micheline, Lily and I are going out for our bi-annual, "when Matt goes on a missions trip the girls go out to lunch" luncheon at La Kay.  God has blessed me so constantly through these two beautiful woman, and I always come away from time with them grateful for the family God has gifted me.

a miracle worth it's wait

Jil's oldest son and middle daughter, standing in front of their home.

For what seems like the 100th time this year, I'm sitting here at my desk glowing...with joy and with sweat...downright delighted to share with you the miraculous movement of His hand.

In March, I first told you about Jil, beginning with these words: Sometimes it is just too much. Today was one of those times.

Since that distressing day, we've received countless beautiful emails and phone calls from many of you, echoing our same overwhelmed sentiment: "WE MUST HELP." We spoke to several of you about starting a housing project, about building a house for Jil, about your churches coming and building a home for them, about beds, school, food, health care, and brainstorming dozens of ways to help.

Last week, we even took Don of "Hulmes Construction" to visit Jil and to help us begin to organize a way to REALLY help. Don immediately understood our increasingly long list of problems...

How do you help Jil's family without causing community jealousy and more problems for Jil?

How do you even get supplies and materials back to where Jil's little house is? There isn't even a water source anywhere near his house!

How do you build a house on land that he is illegally squatting on?

What if the land owner saw the house and took it from them?

What should the house look like?

Who should build it?

What about all the OTHER families living nearby in equally dire situations?

For months we have struggled with not just how to help, but with the whole issue of extreme poverty.

How is it best helped?

What is the real problem?

How can you help without hurting?

How do you involve the community?

Ever since going with Don, we have barely spoken about it, all overwhelmed with the reality of the situation and the feelings of helplessness, trying to trust the Lord to show us how and when.

Last night, Julie, Hannah and Don watched Lily while we went to eat in town for our anniversary. On our way there, we were quite surprised to see small mountains of sand dumped quite sporadically all along the side of the road. "Wow!" Matt said, "Someone must finally be fixing the road!"

But further down, we saw piles and piles of freshly made cement blocks, again, all quite randomly sprawled across a 3 or 4 block area. Hmmmmm....

This morning, Matt headed to a church about 30 minutes from here as the guest speaker of an Evangelism Seminar. On his way there, he stopped to chat with Jil, already drenched in sweat and working aggressively in the road, patching holes as always. When he saw Matt, he was overjoyed, and Matt assumed it was because of the beds and mattresses Abel had dropped off a few days earlier. Not so...

"My friend!" Jil exclaimed, "Mirlove had our baby! She is a little girl!"

"Wonderful! Congratulations!"

"And my friend!" Jil exlaimed, "In 10 days, we will have a new house!"

WHAT?

The mountains of sand. The blocks. Food for the Poor.

Beginning on Monday, Food for the Poor, "serving the poorest of the poor", an organization who has a branch located about 30 minutes from here, is building Jil a new house. And not just Jil. LOTS of new houses.

Apparently, Jil's area has caught their eye over the past few years as a zone especially impoverished. This is how their program works: If you have no cement foundation, and no blocks, no cement in your house, and if you have NO foundation or start of a new house, and if they select your zone, and IF you agree to feed 6 workers 2 meals a day for 10 days...You can move into one of their new houses.

They are all built identically, with a strong foundation and cement block, painted vivid colors, each long house split into two "apartments" and shared by two families. Front doors. Small porches. Solid roofs. One qualified "Food for the Poor" boss comes in for each home, hires laborers from Saccanville, and builds each house. They have bought a patch of land right next to Jil's zone, and everyone in Jil's zone who meets the above requirements will have a new house waiting for them by the end of JUNE.

FOR MONTHS we have fretted, worried, thought, planned, talked, cried and prayed. And it was already taken care of. Not just sufficiently, but WELL. Perfectly.

It is already done. For the price of 10 days of rice and oil, Jil will have a new house. Young men in Saccanville will have work. Young men in Saccanville will get fed. The poorest families in the zone will have dry places to sleep, strong walls to protect them.

AND I DIDN'T DO IT.

Just as the smallest homely sparrow falling from the heavens isn't lost before our infinite Father, neither is Jil. Neither is Jil. Neither is his brand new precoius baby, conceived out of violence and violation and darkness. Neither are his dear children, hungry and dirty and happy.

Neither is Jil. (Neither is YOU).

All along, God was Jil's Father. God had a perfect plan in the works for the perfect time in His perfect way....and swept the miracle in, knocking me humbly to the ground, reminding me of three things:

1- I am NOT the only way God works.

He can choose to use me or He can choose to accomplish His will through someone else. Me, my plans, my money, my talents...all just tiny specks before Him...NONE of which He NEEDS in order to take care of His creation, to bring people to Himself.

2- We must keep working with what God gave us.

God has clearly brought Matt and I to Haiti to help train His children to bring Haiti to Christ. We don't know how to build a birdhouse next to a Lowe's store, much less stake out to construct a new Saccanville. Does this mean that He doesn't sometimes ask us to do things out of our comfort zone, personalities, talents or giftings? Heavens no!

But it does mean that before I pick up a new "rock for my cart" that we have to spend a lot of time making sure that God is indeed calling us to do something totally outside of the ministry He has made us for...trusting that if He's NOT asking US to do it, and yet desires it to be done, that He WILL PROVIDE.

3- WAIT.

Why does the Bible talk so much about "Waiting on the Lord" and then I am always anxious to make stuff happen? Does God not know infinitely more about Jil's situation and Jil's solution than I ever have or ever will? Has He not followed Jil every day of his life? Heard every cry of his heart? Known every need that he has? DO I NOT TRUST HIM?

Again, this is not to say that we should say in the midst of heartbreaking situations, "Well, trust God. Have a nice day!" May it never be!! But this whole time that I have been fretting for Jil, in the SAME WAY that I was hopeless for Pehpay, it never occurred to me that GOD COULD TAKE CARE OF IT. Without me. With awesomeness.

AH, I have a ways to go, don't I? I feel so incredibly small in light of His beauty and perfect plan and His abounding grace today. Incredibly and happily small.

Humbled and overjoyed by the reminder that HE is on the throne, orchestrating His will, uninhibited by where we live or poverty or the powers that be, government, the economy, hatred, violence, sin, selfishness, culture, language, land ownership, bank accounts, water shortages, location, and beautifully uninhibited by the best-intentioned-yet-skeptic-in-the-hands-of-an-All-Powerful-God ME.

PRAISE THE LORD.

Still wanna help? Interested in helping the poorest of the poor with some of their pressing physical needs? Check out Food for the Poor.

Pictures of Jil's newest little one and the project coming soon...

giving, pants and what burning charcoal might look like...

Ah.

Every time I think the dust has settled on my "burden balance"...that I "get it"...that I've found that place between this culture, my culture, and HIS culture to dwell... that I understand or have seen it enough or thought it all through...I have a today.

Matt watched Lil so Belony and I could go out right after lunch. We stopped in to see Pehpay first today, and he is doing SO well. We talked about where he is in the Bible, how he's feeling, what his days are like, and when he's going to be a guest speaker in chapel (next week! should be AWESOME).

The almost toothless smile and his beautiful spirit...ah, just bring me such joy! His crumbling little shack has become a little hut of hope, and the dirt and holes and smells and clutter and poverty that were so heart-wrenching the first week have truly faded in light of his new walk with the Lord!

However, I was greatly humbled by Belony. A few days ago, I noticed that he clearly had a burden on his mind. I probed gently at the source, but he continually hesitated, finally just asking that I pray for his family. I promised that I would, but after a few days, still felt burdened about it. The Hubele's had left us some money, and when I came across the envelope, I felt strongly that some should go to Belony's family for whatever this problem was.

After giving him the envelope, he was deeply touched, because his family is struggling greatly right now financially. Yet as we started to leave Pehpay's little hut today, Belony pressed a wad of crumpled bills into Pehpay's hand, knowing that he needed it desperately too, though Pehpay has never asked.

I have so much and yet so often give so stingily of my finances, my time, my money, my gifts, my friendship, my love. My giving here has never set us back...we have so much more than everyone we live with, it would be almost impossible NOT to give. If you had 25 bags of McDonald's in your car, and saw a homeless man on the street, it would be nothing to give him a burger.

But to see one brother sacrificially (in a way I don't even begin to understand or know) give to another brother, to see a man with just one french fry to live on give it joyfully to his brother...

Tears stung my eyes as we continued on and I tried to process this act of selfless pure love.

No time. We talked to each person we passed, one woman telling us that she would "become a Christian one day when she finally quit smoking" (???) and another that didn't want to follow Christ, but did want us to ask Christ to give her more money and food and to solve their problems.

In a moment we had arrived in the little yard, surrounded by cacti, where Belo meets with new believers to study the Bible. Only Frandlee was there today, and has been faithfully there since becoming a Christian (she was the first one) several weeks ago. After several weeks of setting good foundation, today Belony began to talk with her about living "set apart" and about what "repentance" looks like..."turning a different direction."

As he began to share with her from Romans, a rather rough looking group of men, one woman and several children began making a lot of noise from another house in the yard. In a few moments, something I couldn't see happened, and the tallest and angriest man began beating a small boy that seemed to be his son.

The boy was screaming, the man kept beating him in the side of his face, and the mother and neighbors didn't blink. No interest, no involvement, no emotion, no change. I felt instantly sick and anxious, and looked at Belony. He met my eyes, and pointed me back to the Bible on Frandlee's lap. Focus on what we CAN do, he seemed to be saying.

He continued to try to speak to her over the noise, and I tried to focus, but found it impossible, praying for wisdom and courage about how I could intervene. I couldn't even breathe, while everyone around me, buses charging by, men playing dominoes, children laughing at the withering boy, continued. An instant before I could stand it no longer and jumped between the livid man and crouching boy, the man threw down his fists in disgust and walked away, flopping down on the porch and glaring hatefully at me? belony? life?

In this atmosphere Belony persevered, and I realized really for the first time what Frandlee was facing. No mother (left them when she was 3), no father (he lives an hour away and does not provide nor is involved with her.) NO Christians in the house or in this yard community of houses. No Christian friends. No Christian family. Almost no safe or moral ways to provide for her existence. No one looking out for her.

I looked again at Hateful Man, and then at Frandlee, and shuttered. The men and women that sneer and jest and slur at Belony and I are the men and women living with Frandlee. And she has chosen to follow Christ. What a HUGE commitment. Even to sit for an hour and study the Bible in the middle of such tension, such darkness, such sadness. To be SEEN with "Pastor and the Missionary".

"We have to be in the world, Frandlee, but not OF it!" Belony encouraged her, while my mind whirred. "You might live here, but you must be set apart. This might be a very dark place, but you must be a light! The things you did before? The things you are seeing everyone do? You must not do them..you must be set apart. The Scripture will tell you how to live! Let's look here...and here...."

As he spoke to her about Biblical standards, I heard them applied to a set of cultural norms that varied greatly from those in mine.

"Frandlee, you cannot prostitute yourself for some money, for some food. You must live differently than the rest of the world. You must trust the Lord for your food. He will provide for you!"

"Frandlee, you cannot wear pants any longer!" (now before you say, "WHAT?" let me continue.) Belony explained to me on the way home, "It is NOT because the act of wearing pants is a sin. Of course not. It is no sin to wear pants. But here, in this culture, women have been wearing pants for years as a sign that they are available for pay. Now, more women wear them, and they are NOT all necessarily prostituting, but they ARE still synonymous with trying to attract men sexually. Frandlee cannot be set apart, be a light in her community, be holy as He is holy, in this culture, while representing to all that she is trying to sexually attract men." (For the first time, I really got why I'm in a skirt everyday.)

"Frandlee, you can't have a boyfriend who is not a believer! You cannot seek the Lord and hold these standards for yourself, and yet spend all your time and conversation and money and love with someone that does not love your Lord. He will pull you away. Just as a pile of burning charcoal will burn for hours, but if one is pulled out, it sputters and dies. You must date burning charcoal! Your boyfriend must be one who helps you burn for Christ, not one who pulls you away from Him."

"Frandlee, do you know what one of the hardest things is? You must forgive. The Bible says clearly that if we do NOT forgive our brother, our Father in Heaven cannot forgive us. No matter what anyone has done to you, we have to forgive, because He has forgiven us. Can you forgive?"

"All but one," she said firmly. "Not this one."

"Ah, Frandlee, but you must," Belony said, love brimming over in each admonishment. "We will pray for that."

As Belony went through several other things, I asked myself the same questions. I thought about my culture. I thought about MY standards. I thought about Belony, and if he saw me in the States, if he would think I looked or lived any differently than anyone else. Sure, my heart might be radically different for Christ, but what about my LIFE. What about my dress? What about my hobbies? Habits? Speech? Friends? Schedule? Job? Spending?

I realized today that I spent most of my life in the States trying very hard NOT to look much different. My HEART was for Christ, wasn't that enough? He knew I loved Him! Couldn't I blend?

What would a totally set apart person even LOOK like in the States? What should I even look like? If I'm representing HIM -- not "Christian Stacey" or "Good" or "Traditional" -- everywhere I go, Haiti, US, wherever, what should that look like?

THIS was the peace I found, the peace I overjoyingly shared with Frandlee as I was almost beginning to despair for her almost seemingly impossible situation...HE WILL MAKE IT POSSIBLE.

If His strength is made great in our weakness, if He calls us to be Holy as He is Holy, if He is faithful even when we are not, if He promises to draw near to us if we will only draw near to Him...Then HE will help Frandlee be human-impossibly set apart. Then He will help her be light and find other lights and rely on Him for her food and to stand firm under persecution.

Not a thing has He asked us to do or be that He cannot do or be in us...that He will not help us to do. I'm still working all this through, but tonight, this is truly abandoned and trusting prayer:

Search me, O God, and know my heart

Try me and know my anxious thoughts;

See if there is any hurtful way in me,

and Lead me instead in your everlasting Way.

psalm 139

another miracle

Yesterday morning was not a high place. I'd been sick all weekend. I was exhausted Monday morning, and Lily woke up early, I fell back to sleep eventually, and slept through to 6:30, missing the large majority of my time with the Lord. Out of grouchiness and selfishness and a lasting tiff from the night before, I immediately spat out at Matt for not having woken me, and for therefore causing my lack of time with the Lord.

"But wait, what is for breakfast? The guys are coming in 20 minutes!" Matt said as I huffed into the guest bedroom with my Bible.

"GIVE ME FIFTEEN MINUTES WITH THE LORD!" I literally roared by now, livid, mostly with myself and totally overwhelmed by the upcoming day and week, and shut the door behind me, sinking to the floor.

I KNEW I was completely and totally in the wrong state of mind, with the wrong heart and had treated Matt entirely wrong...my heart was full of grouchiness and busyness and I could even taste the bitterness in my mouth. And I knew I couldn't even begin to handle the week ahead, much less the morning ahead. What I didn't know was how in the world I could compose myself, have a new heart, a new mind, a new spirit, in fifteen minutes.

"LORD," I literally wailed, "I don't know how. I don't know how you possibly could, but MEET me. Give me a new spirit, somehow, in fifteen minutes! PLEASE!"

Immediately, He gently led my mind to some evangelism I had been doing in Sakenville the week before. At one particular house, I was overjoyed to find the group in the yard already talking about some people who had been spared in Port-au-Prince.

It was a rather rough group of men, with one woman and several children. Yet my heart celebrated when I heard one man say, "Wow, only God could do that! He can do what He wants. He is so powerful!" and then everyone in the yard celebrated and agreed heartily.

"Yes, Praise the Lord!" I said, realizing I wouldn't need to discuss the Gospel message here. "So you are all Christians, then, huh? Christ-followers?"

"Oh, No!" the group quickly replied. "No, no. We're not Christians."

"Ooookkk, so, you know He is God, and you believe that, and you know that He sent His Son, Jesus, to die for our sins?"

"Oh, yes, yes. We know."

"Buuuuutttt, you're not Christians?"

"Right."

"Well, do you WANT to be Christ-followers, since He is powerful, and does that which only HE can do?"

Everyone looked at each other quite openly and the oldest man said, quite friendly, "No thanks."

"WHY?" I asked, befuddled, thinking of the verse Romans 10:9 that says "If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved."

"Because we don't want Him to be our LORD, you know? We don't want to follow any rules or anything, don't want to change stuff, you know."

As I sat there in the guest room, thinking about this experience He had brought so clearly to my mind, He spoke SO clearly in the stillness of my heart.

Stacey, the log in your own eye! You couldn't understand how they could declare Me, but not WANT me. They wanted My power, but not My desires, not My heart.

But YOU say that I AM your Lord, that I AM in control of your life, your heart, your emotions, your speech... but LOOK!

You say I am your Lord, but you want to hold onto your anger, your emotions, your rights. You want to feel angry, want to act emotionally, want to blame others, want to come up with excuses, want what you want.

Do you want me enough to die to yourself and be filled with what I want for you?

Immediately, hot, humble tears came, and immediately, the bitterness and resentment and grouchiness and irritation and stress melted away. I left that room to start breakfast an entirely new woman. My tense shoulders and balled fists softened, and He replaced all the ugliness and selfishness of me with Himself.

In fifteen minutes.

I praise the Lord, Praise the Lord, that He is a God that communicates with us and changes us, as ONLY He can, if only we are anxious for it. What He did in that room and in my heart, I believe, was every bit the miracle He did for the man that lived 4 weeks under a building after the earthquake. What He wants to do in those men that declare Him is every bit a miracle.

He didn't just save us. Miracle over. He seeks to transform us, every moment...

Our speech, our emotions, our actions,

our time, our money, our habits,

our families, our thoughts, our jobs,

our conversations, our intentions, our daily living...

...whatever is in them that is of us, He's ready to replace, beautifully and to our great freedom.

Praise the Lord for His ever working hand.

***UPDATE: Emmaus Biblical Seminary starts classes again TOMORROW (we are SO excited to have the guys back!)

A prospective new Director for EBS is also coming tomorrow (again, really excited),

AND one of our students and one of our staff members left today for Diquini, the area of Port-au-Prince where Matt and two other staff members and a dozen students worked for 3 weeks, bringing by His grace over 600 to become Christ-followers. They will be working there until Friday to set up a plan, and Lord willing begin a 6 month period of church planting and leadership-raising (AHHHH! Excited).

Please be praying!!!, and please consider joining Emmaus Biblical Seminary in the training of Haitian pastors, evangelists, missionaries and Christian leaders to bring people in Haiti to Christ, and to disciple them strongly in the Word of God. We need your help to do this! Check out what you can do...