I was cleaning out my room the other day, and found a plethera of my old journals. I love to write, and I love to document my feelings on different subjects or experiences. I feel like the journal is my safe place. The thing I can turn to and spill my thoughts... a place I find that my thoughts actually make sense. There are times when I can't think of a single thing to put on paper, and then there are times when my fingers can write fast enough... Its always entertaining to go back and read the things that were on my heart during certain times of my life.
I love buying new journals. I love the different styles, and the art on the cover, and the quotes that are already written inside of them. People who know me pretty well know that a journal is always a welcomed gift around here. With that being said: Collectively, I have 9 journals. None of which have been completely filled. My goal is to finish an entire journal before I die. I think I can do it, it will just take dedication.
I promise this blog has more to do with it than informing you about my journals... hang in there.
I discovered my journal that I took to Amsterdam last summer, and reading the words that were written on the lines of the pages caught me by surprise. It's as if I remember feeling every word that I wrote, but now it feels like I'm reading someone else's words... I stand in amazement when I look back and remember the things I learned, or the people I met, or the way God orchestrated every detail. It is so obvious that no human being could have ever planned that trip to Amster and seen it unfold the way it did without God's hand at work. I am so blessed... today, I am reminded.
I found this journal entry:
Unknown.
How could I stand here with You, and not be moved by You? Unknown is my theme word for the week. Lord, You know every story of every person to walk on the face of this earth. Today is going to be a big day. Somehow, each of these women ended up in this place. But why? What are their stories? It's all unknown, until it is asked. the woman at the busstop, what is her story? Does she have anything that reminds her to hope? Hope. It's a mighty thing. It gives us the energy to keep holding on. to push through. Anne Frank died one month before the suffering and torture were over. She thought her entire family died. She lost hope. Maybe if she would have known her dad was still alive, she would have pushed through and survived. Hope does that for us. The yellow roses that were given to the prostitute from Singapore reminded her to Hope. Who do I need to share my hope with?
"Growth means change. Which sometimes involves risk. Stepping from the known to the unknown." -George Shinn
Unheard.
"Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation." -MK16:15
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resoundng gong or a clanging symbol. - 1COR13:1
Tomorrow I am leaving for a missions trip with my youth group to Arlington, Texas. We will be working with all kinds of kids who live in the projects of Arlington... I think mostly running VBS camps, and loving on people. I dont know what they have heard, or what they have never been told. I dont know if they'll look at me and think, "Who is this Jesus she speaks of?" By the time I leave I hope there are 3 things I leave them with: 1) The Love of Jesus. 2) A message of hope and of healing. and 3) They are important. Their story matters. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.
I hope, by the end of the week, they leave VBS grasping a piece of hope that was once unheard of.
Unseen.
So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 2COR4:5
For we are not fighting against flesh and blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in the dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places. EPH6:12
(EXERPT FROM AMSTER JOURNAL):
"The spirit of Satan is so obvious in this district. It's like Satan has this place on a leash. I have never experienced such a dark place. The Light floods the darkness though. It isn't the girls or the clients or the pimps or the traffickers we are fighting against. But rather the evil that resides over them. The hatred and emptiness and bitterness and lust and rage... they are all friends and they all work together. The good news is: Love heals."
I hope that when I go to Arlington, I will see the world with my spiritual eyes. I want to see the city and the people through the eyes of Jesus. Because everything and every being has beauty embedded in it.
I am going on a new mission. It is very different than walking the streets of Amsterdam; however, it is very much the same. I am still going to invest in people. People must be restored. I am going to speak life over a city and a child. If even one child experiences Jesus while I'm there, then this week will be worth it.
Some may say that short term mission trips have a greater impact on the missionary... and to an extent, I might agree. But like my Mom always told me: "Plant seeds."
Some plant, some water, and some reap the harvest.
No comments:
Post a Comment