The Bad News: 31 Days of Poor Writing

I wish I were better at blogging. I have some dear friends who are doing some super awesome blogging experiments. They're writing every day about things that matter to them, even when they'd rather not write.

I think the best part of this for me as a reader is learning about the hearts of these friends. Learning those things that perhaps they can't always say out loud, because they are awkward or silly or just don't come up. It is fantastic to see, little by little, the hearts of these women and realize that they are so much bigger and complex than any one of them might let on to in a given day.

It also got me thinking. I have always loved writing, and as painful as going to back to read some of that writing is at times, it is nice to have a record of where I've been and where I'm going. So I'd like to write more - even on days when it's not appealing or when I'm not really feeling it. I think having a solid purpose will encourage that.

I also started wondering if my blog did a good job of sharing my heart for Africa and missions. Perhaps it does at times, but as a whole, I think it does a better job of sharing the dark, selfish parts of my heart. So perhaps by forcing myself to focus on those outward-pouring parts of my heart, I can forget those dark parts, or at least leave them behind a little more often.

So I've decided to begin 2010 with a month-long blog project. 31 days of Africa. Every day, a different story of something that's going on currently in Africa, a profile of a missionary I know who is in the field, a little history to provide some perspective.

I promise nothing, but maybe by the end of January, we'll all have a better idea of what's going on across that continent that has captured my heart. (And perhaps my writing will get better, too.)

Approaching the Heart of God

I have found myself in the past year looking in on the two sides of adoption. This is, at times, a privilege - the ability to see a complete story, to know that on the other side of a tremendous sacrifice is a family that is made complete. It is beautiful to see the way that our loving Father perfectly orchestrates the process - for example, a baby with a strict diet given to chemist parents who are un-phased by measuring foods to the gram and thrive on schedules and routine.

It is more often, however, heart-wrenchingly difficult. Difficult to watch and know that on the flip side of every happy family is a mother whose heart is breaking. I sat with my friend Beth this year in the hospital, held her beautiful daughter, cried with her, and watched as she made the most loving, self-sacrificing decision anyone could possibly choose. This decision was all the more difficult because my friend is someone who could have absolutely raised her little girl. But she chose to give her daughter more - opportunities, financial security, a big sister, two parents who were ready to be parents.

And that decision hurt - it hurt her to make and it hurt me to watch. It hurts to watch now as months later, she continues to grieve that broken place in her heart. She knows, as do I, that God will work this into a beautiful story that will glorify Him in the most spectacular of ways. Unfortunately, that is a process, and one that is probably lengthy and more painful than I could possibly imagine.

But I can't help to think that in those times when Beth's heart is breaking and grieving the most, she is closer to understanding the heart of God than I will ever be. She understands to a degree I never will the kind of sacrifice God made when He put Jesus on that cross. She understands what it means to love a child so much that you are willing to lay down your own heart's desires so that they might have life to the fullest.

Thank you, God, for Your sacrifice that I may live. And thank you for Beth, that I may understand a little bit more the kind of love you have for us.

Simplify

(I meant to write this blog and try this experiment a week ago with the beginning of Advent. As usual, life got in the way, so we shall begin today.)

I have been meaning for quite some time to de-clutter my life. This is as much a spiritual and emotional statement as it is a physical one, but I think the physical act is in so many ways the first step. It clears your mind (not to mention your house) to give you space and new perspective on what is really necessary.

I am learning that I hold on to a lot things to have them "just in case." Just in case I lose a few pounds, just in case I ever go back to school, just in case I get married, just in case I ever need that collection of turtle figurines. I do this with emotional and spiritual things, too - hold onto this coping mechanism or that, refuse to give up this part of my heart, "just in case." Just in case the going gets rough, just in case I need it. Which is to say, "Just in case God doesn't come through."

Maybe that statement shocked you, but I can't be any more direct to the heart of the matter. I keep physical, emotional, spiritual things cluttering my life because I do not trust God to keep His promises. To redeem me, to provide, to be merciful and loving, to be absolutely everything that I need. I think if we're all honest with ourselves, we'll find that a lot of our "stuff" is really a back-up plan "just in case."

Here's the reality of my situation: God has given me everything I need (and much more) for now. Why should I not trust that He will give me everything I need tomorrow, or a week from now, or a year from now when my situation changes? My building up treasures and storehouses here on earth is doing nothing but diverting my attention from my true Provider. It is me telling God that I don't trust Him quite enough to get rid of the back-up plans and extra things that provide the illusion of safety and security and comfort.

So here's the challenge (and maybe you'd like to join in): Every day of Advent, I'm getting rid of seven things. (Maybe more!) These might be seven pieces of clothing, books, trinkets, games, whatever. The point is, I want to spend this season getting back to the basics and learning what is really necessary.

The Lord said to her in reply, "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her."
Luke 10:41-42