Compelled

It has been said that missionaries think in terms of nations, while pastors think in terms of cities.

Growing up a missionary's daughter, I can attest to the fact that missionaries do indeed think in terms of nations. When people ask me where I grew up, I don't say "Falun" or "Plaisir," but rather "Sweden" and "France." Nations were a part of my identity as I traveled the world with my missionary parents.

During my teenage years, cultural complexities were a daily part of my high school experience. As a student in an international highschool in the Paris suburbs, I would hear a dozen languages every day as I sat in class. My classmates came from a plethora of mixed nationalies: Sara, who was half-Panamian-half-French; Petra, a Checzh national who wrote in her diaries in Swedish; and Arina, the half-Russian-half East German blonde who had once lived behind the Iron Curtian. Then there was Caroline, who was from a Mexican mother, a German father, but was born in France and grew up in New Zealand. She was enrolled in the British section at our school and later went to the US to study at the university. There were a handful of Portugese and Italians, Dutch and Spanish kids who also attended the Lycee....along with an Asian or South American included in the mix.

I would imagine that on our bus alone, at least 20 different nationalities were represented on the 45-minute drive into St. Germain-En-Laye. Flags outlined the silouette of our school, gaurding the students like a miniature UN. Graduation day was the most unusual, for every international section had its own ceremony stemming from its own culture. As an American, I graduated twice that day: once from the American section, and once with the French school.

Indeed, I grew up with an international mindset.

Over the last year, however, something of a paradigm shift has occurred in my little European-educated brain...I've begun to think in terms of cities...American cities to be exact. And what I once saw in nations, I now see in cities. And the average American city is in need of a huge spiritual overhaul.

I sometimes wonder what has happened to the America I knew as a little girl before we moved overseas. Where are her family values, her morality, her stand for God? In the last year or so, with the historical Presidential campaign, our nation lost even more strength as racism, politics, and economics endeavored to tear our nation apart. I'm not intending on getting into a political diatribe here, so I will stop at this point to say that America is in dire need of the revival we missionaries have so longed to see in our respective countries. I honestly believe America has an assignment to finish, and until she has fulfilled her God-given purpose, we as praying Christians must continue to stand in the gap and intercede for our great nation. But I digress...

What has captivated my attention as of late are the cities of America. What once was pleasant, simple, or even glamorous has degraded to violence, hatred, and complacency. I am horrified at the increased crime rates, the random acts of domestic violence, the intrusion of gangs in the city streets, and the absolute shattered home life of these individuals. These cities have become broken in all respects...broken individuals, broken lives, broken homes, broken mindsets, broken societies, broken cities.

It's time for the broken to become whole.

There is so much more I could write about this topic, but my little cafe is closing. I hope to return to the topic of restoration in the American city in a future blog, but for now, let me leave you with a short peoetic verse I wrote earlier this year:

Compelled

I am compelled
To give of what I have most
To those who have so little

Wholeness, happiness, peace
Restoration, redemption
Endless Unconditional Love

Generations of broken lives
Keep filling my eyes with tears
It’s time for restoration

Epidemic overtaking nations
Glamorous cities forsaken
Countless broken souls

I cannot stand by
Simply watching anymore

A Lady in Wating

About five years ago during my tenure as a Bible school student, I had one of those amazing seasons with God. All you young ladies will understand that waiting and growing up process, for it happens to all of us who are truly becoming women of God. Anyway, during the fall of that season, the Lord had given me this picture in poetry. The story and season of that time were so sacred that I kept this little poem hidden away in my one of my journals for the past few years. As I was visiting with a younger friend a few months ago, the Lord reminded me of this piece of poetry. Dusting it off from the recesses of my journal, I shared it with her. Noting the tears that flowed from her lovely eyes, I realized this bit of poetry should be shared with all young ladies who are in that season of waiting. So, in hopes of inspiring courage and patience in your process of becoming, it is with humble grace I submit to you A Lady in Waiting.

A Lady in Waiting


I am in a small room somewhere in a palace
Some say I am a woman, yet others see me as a girl
I know I’m neither - only changing from one to another
It is my time of becoming

Others do not know this for how can they see
This girl inside growing in divine beauty?

I have become that lady in waiting
But an earthly princess I am not
It is a heavenly transition
For I am shedding my girlish design
And becoming a woman of God

There is so much He is at work in me doing
Altering, changing, forming
Completely transforming all within
A living sacrifice He has demanded of me
My life to Him I give unreservedly

A surrender of my will
Is how this first started
But a flood of other burnings
Came crashing into my world
Changing this small tiny girl
Into a wise woman of God

The preparation digs deep
Not concentrating on outward appearances
It has lit a fire in my heart,
The deepest core of my being
Has been touched and loved
I am now a lady
A lady waiting upon her Lord

My Lord is most precious to me
For He has overseen this change in my identity
With great care and utmost skill
He has shaped this girl becoming woman
My love for Him runs as deep as the seas,
As far as the skies
It is He alone who can hold and shape my heart
To Him I alone belong
He is the King upon my heart’s throne

Through all this change He is simply creating me to be
What is most pleasing in His eyes
A woman of wisdom and kindness, love and devotion
Is the lady He’s preparing in me
I am just a lady who’s becoming
Becoming one like her Lord

But in the distance over the forest and across the sea
Is a young knight dressed in armor
He too serves my Lord - he is neither boy nor man,
Like me, he is becoming wise

A preparation time is reserved for him too
A castle he is not residing in
But the forest where the enemy lies
He is out slaying dragons
Learning lessons of spiritual manhood
Right before my eyes
The fight he must endure
For this qualifies him as a true knight
But one day he will come walking
Dented armor, into my sight

“It was a harsh battle,” he will say
“But I learned to delight myself in our Lord
The lessons He taught me though hard I had to fight
Are golden and true
His words alone are what brought me through
Trust in Him I did learn
And His love for me kept me on my way
He has been faithful through this test
In His Lordship, I know I can rest.”

My knight once in shining armor

Now with blood spotted hands
Stands before me in earnest truth
He has fought hard and won the battle
While I have been through my fire
I stand before him with clothes marked in soot and ashes
We have both been tested it seems
Yet our Lord was wise
For in His faithful eyes He saw
Not a boy, but a knight,
Not a girl, but a lady
In Him we are both becoming

Artistic Perfection of the God-Kind

How often are we in awe of perfection? How much more are we disappointed in a lack of perfection - especially in something we hoped would be perfect?

As humans, we desire and aim for perfection - the perfect job, the perfect house, the perfect day, the perfect person. Yet, despite all our efforts and struggles, perfection is something we see and perform in finite moments. After all, human nature is itself imperfect. No matter how hard we strive for perfection, we rarely attain it.

Those of you who are artists will understand the creative tension for perfection. Musicians spend literally hours upon hours practicing a piece of music. The notes must all be played in cadence and rhythm, while the chords, pauses, and emotional balance swirl together to create syphonic sounds of beauty and perfection. Actors rehearse for weeks on end to nail their performance on stage with precision. Dialogue, actions, and facial expressions must all be practiced to deliver a perfect presentation. Writers (of which group I most closely identify) may sketch out dozens of drafts before creating that perfect sentence or story. Every word is tenderly and skillfully chosen to create the perfect vehicle for conveying a message. But even when we execute our art perfectly, we still find areas of fault and criticism.

No matter how hard we try, we still fall short of perfection.

Perfection is something only a Perfect Being can achieve.

While I was reading my Bible this morning, something caught my attention: the perfection of God's ability to perform. Whatever He promised, whatever He said He would do, He does...it's part of His character as a Faithful Father and Friend. But there's something even more than His ability to follow through on something...and that is His perfection. He's not just a person of His Word, but He is also the Perfect Performer. In His delivery, His action, His creation, His timing, His beauty...He is perfect. And when He says He'll do something for us, He does it in the most perfect way possible.

He is the Perfect Author of our life story.

As a writer, I understand and relate to words and stories. Composing any written piece is a delicate procedure of creating the perfect sentence, the perfect plot, the perfect flawed characters, and the perfect retelling of process and journey. As a reader, I appreciate well-written stories that keep me turning pages until the gray hours of early morning. There's nothing more satisfying to the heart of a writer than capturing words of elegant description and purpose on a blank page. Nothing compares to the reader's imagination than the thrill of reading a captivating story with an unexpected ending. The relation between writer and reader is one of satisfaction and fulfillment. The writer creates for the purpose of delivery; the reader absorbs the story for learning and pleasure.

At this very moment, the Perfect Author is crafting our story. He knows where to take us in our journey, He knows what lessons need to be learned to mature us, and He knows what other characters are involved in the process. He saw the battles in our future and gave us the equipment needed to fight them. He knows the steps we should take, for He already had them mapped out ahead of time. He knows the right people to connect us with, and He knows the wrong people who will deter us from our purpose. He already wrote the plot. The climax He's already directed. The ending He crafted from the beginning. He is the perfect writer. Every word, every person, every step, every chapter...everything He wrote in our script was for the purpose of fulfilling our story.

We are the honored participants in this riveting saga. Our primary responsibility is to simply follow the Author's cues. We read, we listen, we receive, we digest... We walk through each day with the satisfaction and wonderment of knowing that something greater than our little plans are at work. We submit to the Author's purpose and walk out His script. The journey becomes a surprise to us, and we may find ourselves awake with anticipation in the middle of the night.

As the Perfect Author, God performs Perfectly. His stories for us include an array of the simple to the design of the miraculous. The pages of our lives are filled with quiet moments in His presence to supernatural events only He could orchestrate. His story is never boring, for His artwork is always perfect. There are no flaws in His story, no thoughtless dialogue, no side journeys without purpose. Every sentence, ever paragraph, every moment....He wrote in exquisite perfection.

Perfection is truly divine. Not disappointing in its effects, presentation, satisfaction, or precision, the perfection of our Father God's performance in our lives is absolutely perfect. Astounding us with its creative detail and clarity, His perfection leaves us in breathless wonder. Once we see it, taste it, hear it, and watch it unfold in our lives, we are forever transformed by this artistic perfection of the God-kind.