Not Such A Small World

I never liked to travel. In fact, although hate may be too strong of a word, I definitely disliked it greatly. I was a homebody; I liked the comfortableness of routine. That is, until I learned to travel my way – with as few plans as possible. Take me on a trip where every minute is scheduled and I’m miserable. Let me go exploring and I’m as happy as can be. My delayed awakening to the joys of travel meant that I, unlike my sister, never went on a jaunt around Europe to celebrate the conclusion of high school. Nor did I go on one of the many fabulous trips offered during my college career. To some extent, I’m making up for the deficiency now as I travel more than I thought I ever would.

Because of my original disinclination to travel and my subsequent embrace of it, I now try to convince others of its value. Namely with my students, but with others as well. One of the reasons for this is that its hard not to love a place that you’ve really experienced. We tend to get so wrapped up in our worlds that the news of death and destruction in other places rarely touch us. But when you’ve been there, when you know the names and the faces of those who are threatened, the headlines took on a whole new meaning. You live for the next story, you visit cnn.com often, and you pray with every fiber of your being.

I know of which I write as I have recently returned from Kenya. For those who don’t know, I left on Dec. 28 and since December 29 the country has been terrorized by riots, violence, and politicking the places the ego of the supposed leaders over the lives of their followers. The country is literally ripping at the seams, and as I anxiously await the news of my friends’ village, I am gripped by the reality that the extent of this turmoil would have effected me much less if I had not been there to experience the country’s beauty. My heart is broken regularly for a country who, for me, defined welcoming, and is now defined by violence. A community that I grew to love, is now threatened for its existence and a people who have worked so hard to achieve a better life, now struggle to protect any life at all.

Being thousands of miles away there is little that I can do for this community, but I can do this. Empowering Lives International has set up an emergency fund to help in care for those who are displaced. You can read more here on ELI’s blog. Donation information is as follows:

Empowering Lives International
PO Box 67 Upland, CA 91785
Earmark it for the “Kenya Emergency Fund

Regardless of your ability to give please be praying not only for my friends and their community, but for the leaders both local and national to see God’s face, be inspired by His glory and to find His peace.

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Just a Taste

Recently, my church had a hymn sing (or “worship night” depending on who you ask.) The purpose was to gather together and sing some standard-bearer songs of the faith. Several people seemed surprise that someone my age would be there. As one lady commented “I don’t think my children would know any of these songs.”

As with so many things in life, though, I tend to be a little odd. I love hymns. I figure there’s a reason that they’ve been around for hundreds of years. The idea of standing in a huge cathedral and singing along to a pipe organ that is belting out “It Is Well With My Soul” makes me smile. Hymns stir your heart towards God. They proclaim His timeless majesty and echo His unspeakable magnitude. Hymns are larger than life, and remind us that God is too.

Recently I was reminded of the gems that many hymns contain as I listened to “Blessed Assurance.” For those who may not know it, the chorus says:

“Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine
Oh what a foretaste of glory divine”

It was the second line that startled me. Having sung the hymn many times before, I am not sure I had stopped to think about what it meant. Today, we give just a taste of glory. All the good things that God has blessed us with, doesn’t compare to the portion we receive in knowing that Jesus is ours. This knowledge provides us a glimpse into what heaven will be like; the opportunity for perfect communion with the One who knows us better than ourselves. Its just a taste, but what a indescribable morsel it is.

Thanks to God for whetting our appetite with the gift of His Son. What a privilege to look forward to an eternity of being satisfied with Him.

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