freedom feels like Home

I'm moving to Oregon in 20 days. It's hard to believe that in three weeks I'll be in a place that I've never been, where I know no one except two people that I hung out at a coffee shop with for four hours one day. I don't have a solid, black and white job, I don't even know where I'll be staying yet. Is this logical? No, not really. But neither is majoring in art...If I was looking for the straight, well-traveled road, I wouldn't have made a lot of the choices that have lead me here, but if I was looking for that road, I just wouldn't be me.

I'm nervous. Unlike most people, I get really cold when I'm nervous, right now I'm shivering. When asked what I was nervous about, I said nothing in particular, just all the newness and unknown. I think that's reasonable.

Tonight, after mapping out my 30 hour drive and booking a flight for my sister to fly home on (she's driving out with me) I began to feel that scared, excited, about-to-jump-out-of-an-airplane feeling. I walked down the steps from my childhood room to eat dinner with my parents, dairy farmers who work harder then anyone I've ever met, but live lives that don't really change much. My mom had gone to lunch with my great aunt and a few other relatives. My great aunt, who is a bit, crazy?, was saying that she thought it was good that I had something lined up less then a month after graduation. I took hope in this, smiling and feeling a bit more confident and excited, despite the butterflies in my stomach. Then my step-dad reminded me, again, that I don't have a full time job lined up, that what I'll be doing anyone could do, and it really isn't much to talk of as far as successful jobs after school. We've been through this before, a hundred times. He sees the world in black and white, maybe some primary colors, dollar signs, and insurance benefits. I see it more in indigo, mahogany, and sienna, I see life as more then money, a white picket fence, and a retirement plan. These things are important and I know God calls us to be informed, responsible, and good stewards of what we've been given. But I think life is more about experience then bank accounts, it's about loving others and letting them love you back, it's about taking some risks to build up to what you love doing. It's about falling in love with God, and letting him lead us to places of uncertainty for the sole reason that we would learn to trust him fully and recklessly abandon the pursuits of this world for the pursuit of Him-a God who is more stable and more loving then anything we could plan or imagine.

I end up feeling disheartened and alone after those kinds of conversations. Maybe if I wasn't aware of the responsibilities that go along with life, I would need continual reminders, but that's not the case. The one good thing that comes from the rain storm of doubts, questions, and discouraging remarks, is that I remember why I'm taking this risk. I need to get out. I need to have space to make some mistakes, and learn as I go. I need a community-a body of believers-to be encouraged by, and to contribute to. I need to use my gifts for God's glory, and trust that it's nothing that I can do, but it's Christ working in me, and using me. I am simply a tool in the hands of God. I need to follow him to a place that I do not know, in order to trust him for my every need.

So, thank you, I guess, for reminding me of all these things. I wish that someday I could be reminded from you through an uplifting and encouraging word, rather then doubts and discouragement, but even these can be used for good.

I've always said that my friends are my family. I've been blessed beyond measure with friends better then I could have hoped for, or dreamed up on my own. It's true that a friend sticks closer than a brother.

I don't know what will happen, there's so much I don't know, and there are no guarantees. A lot of hard work, faith, and more hard work are ahead, but it's a step closer to freedom. And freedom feels like home.

Fine

There's a verse in the Bible that talks about delighting ourselves in the Lord and him giving the desires of our hearts. I like this verse, but honestly, it also makes me frustrated. I spent a few months in Uganda in the summer of 2009. I cannot begin today to express all that I learned, saw, or felt, except to say that it was a beautiful experience. While there, I met a missionary from the Kingdom of Tonga. The first time I saw him I had no idea what country he was from, his ethnic background, or what he was doing in Africa. He had a huge grin and big brown eyes that were filled with laughter. His name was Fine (fin-ee) and he was part of Youth With A Mission. He'd been living in Uganda for three years and working with a small village helping to build a bakery. Initially, they thought he would give them the money to build the bakery, so he had to explain to them that he had no money and no funds coming in either. Instead, he became just like them-working in the gardens, living in the village; he ate with them and went hungry with them. All the while he taught them from the Bible. In traditional Ugandan culture, women obey simply their husbands, they care for the children, draw water, cook, work in the gardens, clean, etc. In a lot of cases, men have abandoned their families and left the women to care for all the children with no income of their own. Fine's heart is for families. He has taken Jesus literally when he says to care for widows and orphans and defend the poor and helpless.

One Sunday, Fine invited me to come to his church. As I walked the half mile down the red dusty road in search of the little church tucked in the banana trees, I was a bit nervous. By then I was used to being the only white person, but I had never gone to church in Uganda alone before. Thankfully, the sound of drums and children lead me easily to the church. Women and babies were under the shade of a clump of trees and children chased each other around outside. All of the men were inside. "Fine?" I asked a woman who shyly greeted me. "Yes" she replied and pointed inside, and then led me to a bench by all the women. Apparently there was a "no girls allowed" rule before the service, or something was going on. After a few moments, Fine excitedly motioned everyone inside and we all crowded onto little wooden benches. Children stared openly at the mzungu who came to join their service, and women shyly, but warmly greeted me.

As was tradition, any guests were asked to stand up and introduce themselves. Well, no escaping it, I was the only white person of at least seventy. I stood and glanced at Fine, who grinned back. In my best Ugandan accent I introduced myself and expressed my joy to be with them. I sat back down and the music began. Today was men and husband Sunday. In both Uganda and Tonga, dancing is an enormous part of their culture. Fine got the entire congregation involved by asking the men and women from their respective tribes to demonstrate their traditional dances. Women sang and clapped while shaking their hips like I have never seen in any church before, then men also showed off their moves, while the children played the drums on their benches. Everything was a blend colors and laughter and shouting and freedom. Then Fine calmed the congregation down, women sat down again while the men to take their places. He explained that he had arranged a special presentation for that Sunday. In his culture, the Tongans dance as celebration, but also as warriors.
Over the past three years, Fine has served the people he ministers to. He is learning their language and their culture because he realizes that it's necessary to love someone first, and out of that love will come change for the better. He now is a co-pastor at a church where each month the sermons rotate around women and wives, children, men and husbands, and the family. Men are learning to love and serve their wives, wives are learning to respect and support their husbands, and children are learning to obey and learn in a safe, nurturing environment.

What a beautiful picture. All because one man decided to give up his comfort, and go where God said. Fine told me he was glad that he did not know where God was leading him, or what would happen. He said if he had known ahead of time that he would go hungry some days or fight off malaria eight times and counting, he would have turned back long ago. He's said he was so thankful that God did not reveal all the answers to him when he asked.