I'm laying here on my sleeping pad and if I don't move too quickly then the sweat wont smear. I'm fairly convinced this wet glaze that relaxes itself on my body is permanent. I forget I even wear it, but tonight, when Jenni had to wipe some stray marshmallows off my face…it was mixed with a tablespoon of sweat, and I remembered that I do indeed wear this extra layer of liquid. If it was safe I'd string my nifty hammock up and rock in that baby all night long.. But alas, I live in a slum where shooting guns, drug lords and prostitutes rule the streets. And they party with Kareoke into the wee hours of the morning so unless I feel like joining Celine Dion, I'm better off in the back of the church, stuck to my mat.
We're wrapping up month 4 and heading to Thailand in a week or so. I won't lie, my heart heaves with grief at the thought of not seeing my kids anymore. I'm so sick of them asking me, "Wat iz youur nam" every 5 seconds but its those moments that I will always remember. Ati Christine is what they call me and I've even begun to stop answering to Christin because I forget its my name. They hang on my body like tree ornaments so none of my clothes fit right anymore…Which may not be a terrible thing since I've recklessly embraced Race eating or shall we blame the Holidays for the added pounds? It's tough to choose healthy when rice, noodles, rice or fried chicken with a side of rice is being served. Maybe next month I'll learn self control? Who knows each month is a beast of its own.
Pastor Ramil and his wife have taken us into their family and loved us like their own children. When we found the DEAD rat, half eaten by maggots, the Pastor celebrated with us. Victory in the Kingdom, right? But seriously, Ramil is a rockstar Jesus lover who inspires me to press on, tap into the God strength we always preach about and keep going. I've learned so much from him that I wish I could squish him up and pack him in my day pack for the rest of the Race!
Sweet Aroma has lived a lot of life here in Tondo. We've grieved death, seen things that will change us forever, experienced heartache like we couldnt begin to explain and been sicker than dogs. We've laughed, we've cried, we've welcomed a new teammate, we've done life together, we've grieved together and in a few days we'll do Christmas together. The faces I sleep next to, eat next to, pray with, cry with, laugh with, pee with, travel with etc are more than just teammates. They are family. They are The Church.
Many of us live with people and get so caught up in life that we hardly know the person sleeping beside us. Living in community to the point where when I collapse upon hearing my granddad has just passed, my team is 10 feet away, sitting quietly, waiting to step in. Or when I roll over, I bump into someone's butt because we sleep so close together. Or when we pass each other on the way to the restroom, our arms brush because there isnt room on either side. It's tight, it's hard but man it's worth it.
There's something about living with people who radiate God's glory that makes my heart beat fast. These folks walk into rooms and environments change. They speak and people listen. They carry authority as Sons and Daughters and it stirs stuff up in the spiritual realm. We are restored and honorable in His sight. What a freaking relief!
I won't lie though, my flesh is exhausted.
But who's strength am I leaning on anyway? Mine or His? Man, God. I believe you. I know when I depend on your strength, my day shifts. I know that not a second of my life is wasted. He's so faithful that as I sit here and write this, my arms feel tingly thinking about the greatness we carry as His friends. We are friends of the most Soverign God on High. AH! Not only that but we have His righteousness. We have His glory and it's bursting forth in radiate colors as we do life. Whether its here in Philippines or over in America, the destiny we are called to walk in is magnificent. It's glorious. So out of the ashes, we will rise. Out of the sickness and fatique, we will rest in Him. I declare it over you and I declare it over me. We are more than conquerors. I'm so glad that when we wake up each morning, the devil says, "$*it, they're up."
God's banner over us is love. I'm lovesick on Jesus Christ. His left hand is under my head and His right hand embraces me (ps if you havent read Song of Solomon in a while, check it out. Dude is rocking my world…)
He's so for us that there is nothing that would dare be against us. I've been challenged by that this month.
My heart has been in pieces. I try to pick them up and the razor sharp bits cut me deeply. As I bled out, God's been pouring this liquid into me from the tops of my head to the bottoms of my feet. At first I didnt know what was happening. I thought maybe I was dying. My old heart has stopped beating and it's begun to beat on His time. My eyes are watering writing this because it's been so painfully beautiful, I know I can't fully express it.
And as He's filled me, as I've run and fallen into His arms, He rescued me. It's this glorious collision of old and new hitting head on and bursting forth in peacefulness I've never known.
The death of self is an odd occurence. I barely knew I was passing away at times then other days it felt like I was on my last breath. But as I faded something else began to grow.
I had a sweet opportunity to share my story with a lot of people this month. I relate to a lot of the broken folks because I was just a "richer" version of them a year ago. I may not have lived in a slum but I lived in a private hell that was nastier than anything I've ever known. Brokenness is brokenness. Whether you live it out in a classy area or in devastating poverty doesnt matter to satan. So naturally, as I shared, that darn devil tried to throw lies at me to knock me off course.
But God whispered reaffirminly, it's finished.
The shame, utter heartbreak, my old spiraling out of control self are no more.
God breathed "In the greatest exchange of your life, I took it."
He took my brokenness and nailed it to the tree. And because of that, the suffocating chains of my past are nonexistent. The love I feel from Him is so undeniably thick that I can't walk around without smiling. He has brought me here for such a time as this and His name has been glorified again and again and again. His love is limitless and His power is unfathomable. So I will continue to tell my testimony and if satan tries to throw lies, I will loose the hounds of heaven on his stinkin butt.
I stand on His foundation in complete awe of my Maker.
Thanks Jesus, for your finished work. Thanks for what you did for me and the place of victory that I live from. Thanks for allowing my heart to be vulnerable, for those tender places to be pricked and for your angels to dive in deep and bring forth so much healing. Thanks that You are who I turn to, God. Not booze, not drugs, men or even my friends. Thanks that you are a present God, faithful and here. Thanks that you don't leave, you don't forsake and that you love me for me. Whether I'm on the Race diet and breaking out with a million zits or sitting in Tennessee getting a pedicure while watching football. I love you, Jesus more than words can ever express. Thanks for wrecking my world a year ago January 14th and thanks for caring enough to pick me up and place me in Tondo. I'll never be the same. I didn't know how to get from A to Z when I was weak with shame and self hatred, but you did God. You did and you brought me out of the fire to teach me to love. And so I love, because You loved me first.
Thanks Jesus.
I love you.
Your Beloved Bride
