The following blog is the HARDEST thing I have processed and written in the last year. It was written with many tears. But it is my heart and where I am at right now.
There are two wars going on inside me right now at the same time. My heart, my soul, the very essence of who I am is in the boat of Life and large, menacing waves called Slavery are threatening to overtake it from both sides.
God is teaching me two very important lessons right now about what it means to be his Disciple:
The first is called, Radical Abandonment and the second, Freedom.
“Anyone who comes to me but refuses to let go of father, mother, spouse, children, brothers, sisters- yes, even one’s own self- can’t be my disciple. Anyone who won’t shoulder his own cross and follow behind me can’t be my disciple.
Is there anyone here who, planning to build a new house, doesn’t first sit down and figure the cost so you’ll know if you can complete it? If you only get the foundation laid and then run out of money, you’re going to look pretty foolish. . . .
Simply put, if you’re not willing to take what is dearest to you, whether plans or people, and kiss them good-bye, you can’t be my disciple. Salt is excellent. But if the salt goes flat, it’s useless, good for nothing. Are you listening to this? Really listening?” Luke 14:25-28; 33-34.
God, what am I holding onto that is holding me back from completely following you with radical abandon?
In Cambodia last month, I fell in love with the most beautiful sibling group. Four beautiful children; a 13 year old girl, a 10 year old boy, a 5 year old girl, a 2 year old girl. Their family situation is not ideal- it’s horrible; a neglectful mother, an abusive, drug-addicted father. The brother is hurting, broken, and sexually abusive to the younger siblings. The children are made to beg on the streets, beaten if they refuse. Mother collects trash for 10- 12 hours a day. The money is taken by the father to appease his drug habit.
Idol worship saturates their community, built on a trash dump. Shrines dot every corner and inhabit every home. On major “religious” holidays, children are taken out of school and encouraged to gamble. Money earned grants them the ability to buy cigarettes or candies. Money lost grants them a beating.
For over a month I have been asking God so many questions and straining my ears to hear his answers.
Why have my heart strings been plucked to oblivion for this sibling group when there are hundreds of kids with their same story?
Why when I pray for them, is there a voice inside my head that repeatedly resounds, “These are my children!”
Why when I look at pictures of them do my eyes immediately well with tears and there is this love for them that I can’t explain and doesn’t make sense?
What is your purpose for introducing me to them?
What is your plan for these kids’ futures?
Why does my heart ache so much when I think about the future that awaits them?
Why when I think about the possibilities of what all this means am I absolutely gripped with paralyzing fear?
COUNT THE COST . . .
–Moving half way around the world from my family.
–Surrendering to God my love for my family and their relationships with Him.
–Surrendering to God the ability to watch Austin and Riley play basketball or graduate high school; to see Chelsea and Tyler graduate from College; to eat at Bubbe’s every Sunday; to live life with my family daily; to take Katie and Marie pumpkin hunting and trick or treating; t0 watch Jake grow up and be a close aunt and friend; to grow in community with friends from Apex; to go to Apex on Sundays.
–The realization that I would only be able to see my family once a year.
–Living in a country where I know NO ONE. . . . indefinitely.
–Putting my dreams for a coffee shop business/half-way house and a husband on hold temporarily or indefinitely.
–Living off a meager nurse’s salary in a third world country and the support of others back in the States.
–Entering a culture in which I know 20 words.
–Taking on the role of single, “foster mom”.
–The possibility that I would foster these kids for years and never be able to adopt them or bring them to the USA.
–The possibility that my heart becomes attached and they are taken away at any minute.
–The possibility that I would pour time, money, love, and energy into their lives and futures and they, their family, their situation remains unchanged.
–Never knowing when I would be able to return to Nicaragua.
–Surrendering to God my dreams of ever moving to Nicaragua.
–Surrendering to God my love and relationships in Nicaragua.
But then I think:
What if I spoke the name of Jesus to them and they heard it for the first time?
What if I showed them the life of Jesus and they saw it for the first time?
What if I loved them with the love of Jesus and they felt it for the first time?
What if I gave them the goodness of Jesus and they tasted it for the first time?
What if I offered them the salvation of Jesus and they received it for the first time?
What if Jesus touched their drug-addicted father?
What if Jesus received their neglectful mother?
What if they received a relationship they could live from that changed their lives?
What if Jesus transformed their community?
What if the idol worship and gambling stopped?
What if a church was started in their community?
What if neighbor started to care for neighbor?
What if the sick became healed, the lame walked, the sight of the blind was recovered in their community?
What if I could start the coffee shop business/ half-way house in Cambodia and give the sex workers of Cambodia a new life? A new sense of self-worth? A viable income with dignity?
Isn’t it all worth it if just ONE in the community would see, hear, understand
and turn from their dead-end ways?
What if? . . .
Am I willing to count the cost?
Am I willing to pay up?
Am I willing to leap out in complete faith, trusting that God will catch me?
I have counted the cost.
Am I willing to jump with radical abandon?
or will I just stay lying on the edge and peer at God’s glory from a distance?
Will I return to the slavery of comfort and familiarity?
What is God asking of you?
Have you counted the cost?
Are you willing?
**Badges compliments of Erinne Fullam.
