¿Did I fall away from the truth somehow?

Really, half of me wants me to ask: "Did I lose my self?"  The other half of me thinks "Hot dang it, I'm right!"  I know I can be a bit stubborn/cocky/rebellious at times, so hear me out and please tell me, "Did I fall away from the truth somehow?"

The other day a good friend down here who is sublimely intelligent and not in the annoying manner, shared with us a verse that's been running through his machine of a mind the past few years.

^{Matthew 23:15} "Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when he becomes one, you make him twice as much a son of hell as you are." 

As I read over the verse again I think about how pleasantly selective Jesus was with his words to those inside of the Church.  "You make them twice as much as a son of hell as you are."   ¡Fuerte!

So, I am obviously a missionary, which causes me to read these verses with that much more weight.  I think about the missionary that I want to be and the message that I want to pass to those who I come across; authentic, loving, serving and honest are probably the easiest ways for me to define my ideal.

I also remember two experiences that touched me profoundly in how I've come to define who I am as a missionary and what I do.

We were in the country side of Guatemala on a mission trip; medically serving the people and verbally sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ.  All hunky dory, right?

As we winded down one of our leaders caught herself in a bit of a heated conversation with a young Guatemalan woman.   The basic gist was that the woman didn't want to give an answer to the question of, "Would you like to receive Christ as your Lord and Savior?"  The woman wanted to talk with her husband about this first, but our leader physically wouldn't allow her to leave until the woman could give a better answer for why she wouldn't receive Christ.  The following day the Guatemalan leader cleared up all of this and explained that he wasn't in agreement with how the incident unfolded.

When I was in high school, I had an atheist friend who was a pretty snazzy cool bloke, but he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with Christ.  I was the FCA (Felllowship of Christian Athletes) president, and yet somehow we developed a pretty close relationship.  I remember asking him one day what he thought about Christ and Christianity.  His response wrecked me.

"While I was in grade school I was being carpooled by a Christian women.  She trapped me in the car one afternoon until I could give a better reason for not responding yes to her salvation question..."

Obviously these are just two instances.  I hope they're more outliers than average, but I feel like there's a vibe that runs not only through the two occurrences, but through other things I've experienced and observed in life and within the church.  This idea that we can't wait on the Holy Spirit to work in someone's life and it's better to pressure them a bit than have "the blood on your hands" as Ezekiel says.  That verse use to terrify me, until I read it for what it truly says.

Hasn't Christ and his way always been more of a grass roots movement that reaches and captivates people by flipping the worlds tactics on their head; last is first, the greatest serves the least, love your enemy, etc.

Christ didn't seem to want to change the laws of his time, but instead change the hearts through his awkward manner of bringing his kingdom.  So why are we, Christ followers, so adamant on using the tactics of this world to bring along his kingdom.

I see the matter of homosexual marriage in North Carolina interesting... so many Christians blasting social networking and other forms of communication.  Why do we think we can change the world from the top down.  Does that just mean we're sucking wind in the Christ like "awkward" tactics to change the world?  Vote how you want, we obviously have a right to our opinion... but I don't really think the Church wins this battle with laws, petitions and forcing our beliefs on others.

Obviously, I have a bias, and I believe we all tend to critique and question our "roots" more than anything else.  I actually think Christ calls us to question and critique each other in the church body more than point figures at those on the outside.   I call for petitions, sermons, and marches for the ban of pornography, greed, slander, gossip, the idolatry of sports, verbal abuse...but of course, I'm talking about church wide actions not a law for every Joe Blow.

So I ask again, "Did I fall away from the truth somehow?"

On a closing note, if the Jewish or Muslims ever hold the majority card, I pray they won't  take bacon and breakfast sausage off the isles of our supermarkets.

Waffles, Pizza, Conversations & Classic books

I can't tell you how many times I've read in the Bible that we should care for the poor, the orphan, the widowed.  The poor and the orphaned I've served, but for some reason it's never occurred to me to seek out, serve and love the widowed.  Has it ever occurred to you?

I know it sounds really ignorant and a bit silly but I kind of figured that the "widowed" were only around during the major wars of the past century; WWI, WWII, Vietnam, Korea, etc.  Obviously we have women who still lose their loved ones in war, cancers of all sorts seem to be cutting short way too many lives and then there's always accidents.  I imagine our churches have numerous opportunities to serve this group that Christ and Paul found important enough to list specifically.

The following I share with you not to brag and say, "Look at me! I'm doing a great job in this area," but share a bit of the strong filling in my chest after the evening as well as a realization of missing the mark completely on this for so long.

We have a "tía" who lost her husband recently to cancer (about 7 months ago).  We never had the opportunity to meet him, but we've heard amazing things and our host family, the Benavides, just so happened to be close friends with her and her late husband.  We met her one night late last fall at the Benavides' house, had a blast chatting it up and then scheduled and enjoyed a dinner together maybe two or three weeks later at her house.

4 months later we're finally getting together for another dinner.  I say that with a little bit of shame seeing as how I imagine anyone who lost a loved one would love company to help with the coping processes a bit more often than 4 months...and yet we dropped the ball.  Obviously we don't carry all the responsibility but this story isn't about throwing the blame or spreading it paper thin so it doesn't sting as much.

We had a blast.  Cristina, our "tía" brought over a batch of homemade waffles, which are a rarity in Chile.  Two of her children live in the US and are married to Gringos, which has clearly brushed off on her cooking/eating preferences.  They were delicious.  After the waffle appetizers Christine and I served up some homemade pizza (with the pizza stone!  Thanks again John and Cheryl) and we just sat around and did what Chileans do best after a meal, converse.

It was so good to just talk about everything and it's even crazier because Christina knows a lot about the South East Coast of the US, which is where her son and daughter's families live.  The conversation flew so naturally from how much we love Chick-fil-a, planning a biking outing around the neighborhood, how happy we are in our house, church, ministries, the calling we all feel from God, etc.

As I walked Christina home we continued talking effortlessly.  Right before I'm about to leave her house I notice a book case stacked with books that tell decades upon decades of stories, histories, knowledge, literature.  She had told me that her husband was a history professor and from his book collection it looks like a pretty darn impressive one.  She passes me a few and I can't help but select a few others that draw me in.  Maybe through these books I'll get to know him a bit more or better yet prep for the awesome conversation that we'll have one day up there in paradise.

Keitt Update - April 2012

                  Para verlo en español, ponga el "CC".

Remembering

God is good, even when we don’t feel like He is.

It was 6 years ago today that Bets died.  There are still times it catches up and I think, “Wow, did that really happen?  How could that have happened?”  There are times to be sad, times to mourn, and April 26th is still and forever will be one of them. 

I’ve been sitting here for 25 minutes not knowing how to write.  Or maybe just getting lost in memories and replaying events in my mind.  I could write pages of these stories and attributes of my dear friend, especially because most of you never knew her.  But today, I just want to be sad.

The phrase “God is good” has sadly become more of a cliché than anything else in our world today.  I would imagine anyone not knowing God personally probably assumes it’s merely something Christians say to make ourselves feel better, a distraction from having to face the deep sadness of tragedy.    

But its exhaustion and overuse makes it no less true.

God is good, because God is good.  His character can say nothing else.  And when I can believe that in the midst of tragedy, I know it is a gift, because I could not believe it on my own. 

It just doesn’t make sense to believe it when your best friend and 4 others are killed 3 weeks before graduation.

And so I know this is what He must have meant when He told us that faith is a gift.  Because in the midst of everything, I truly believe God is good – today, 6 years ago, in every heartache and tragedy that has come my way – There is this overwhelming peace at my core.  Like I know without a doubt, that God is good, even if I am devastated, even when I don’t understand, even when I feel forsaken.

Even Jesus felt forsaken at times.

I am thankful that we HAVE a God that always has our best interests in mind, even when we as His children don’t agree.  I am thankful that He provides us with peace that doesn’t make sense.  I am thankful for the hope of new life with Him, away from the pain of this world.

And I am thankful for Bets – for the ways she has impacted us all and continues to encourage me even today.

(For those that didn’t know her, here’s a pretty good description of how she lived her life.  We found it in her Bible a few days after the accident, a mission statement she had written as a Senior in high school):

People are my passion. 

I believe that people are my ministry. 

Working with the needs of people is my mission field. This must be my focus. 

I am supposed to love them with God's love, not my own; when I get hurt by sharing that love, it is hurting God even more than it hurts me. 

Working with people is draining, therefore I must rely on God and not myself. I cannot, absolutely cannot, help others without the wisdom and strength that God gives. Therefore God must be my first passion. When I am a failure and weak, it allows God to get bigger and Him to do more. God's power is made perfect in my weakness. II Corinthians 12:9. It will cost more to give more, but it will affect more. 

I must give all. 

My life should be a living sacrifice and a drink offering poured out to God. It cannot be me though because then it won't really be a ministry. 

Expect to get hurt,because the more I love, the more I will get hurt, BUT it is better to love and get hurt than never love and never get hurt. This is the cross I must bear. I cannot keep God's love to myself. I must share it. Is God's love truly overflowing in my life?

I need to learn to forgive and let go, I cannot hold grudges, and be fulfilling God's calling for my life. There is no room for an attitude. 

"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."

To me, this means giving my life away, because it is not mine to keep. It means spreading God's love for others to them, because that is not something I can keep to myself. By doing this, I am gaining an indescribable blessing and fulfillment. it gives my own life purpose and meaning. 

 At the end of my rope, God's rope just begins, I must give my life away to truly find it. Always remember that I'm only working for an audience of one. 

  

...we have radars to protect us from butt cheeks...

Yes.  I said that during institute today. 

So about a month ago Jamie asked me if I could help her out and interpret institute during April since she would be loaded down interpreting for the master’s classes here in Santiago.

Of course I said sure. 

I love a challenge and I’m feeling that much more confident when it comes to interpreting.  It’s one thing to speak a language and whole other interpreting/translating, but like I said, I’m feeling feisty and ready for a challenge.

Side note.  Say “it’s a whole other world”.  Sounds strange?  I’ve always said, “it’s a whole nother world”, even though “nother” isn’t a word and keeps being squiggled with red. 

Ok, to the point.  Translating in Santiago is completely different than translating in Lautaro (what I did before in November) for one simple point.  There is no bus to go home on after I’m done.  I live here.  I know almost ever person in the class personally.  We will see each other on a daily basis for probably years to come.  All of this makes my little slip up that much more grandiose.

John Turner, Chirstine’s pastor from her childhood, is the professor, which is cool enough on it’s own having down here with us as he teaches.  We’re learning about leadership through the book of Nehemiah. 

So as John started to explain the importance of city walls during Nehemiah’s time period he makes a comparison to how now-a-days we have radars to protect us from rockets and other forms of attacks.

That’s nothing too hard to translate, right?  Well just as I get to the rockets part I pause for a split second and the words slips from my mind.  How do you say rockets?  Crap, I think its cachetes and so I go for it without any delay. 

Nope. 

A good way to figure out if you’re doing well when it comes to interpreting is looking at people’s faces.

There’s a beautiful mix of smiling/smirking/wanting to burst with laughter/drop jawed/stunned/disbelief.

Cohetes was what I should have said which would have translated the idea completely clearly.  What I actually said with the “cachetes” choice was

Now-n-days we have radars to protect us from butt cheeks!

Oh so close and yet such different worlds.

I will never forget the difference between those two words and all those students/friends will never let me hear enough.

Fear not ye fearful citizen, those dreaded butt cheeks won’t harm you, your family or your house, we’ve got radars!

Hey at least I didn’t say cachetones which would have been big ol’ butt cheeks. 

:)

Boundaries

We get invited to do things all the time.  And no, not because we’re just so popular :), it’s just that there’s a lot of work to do here.  I would love to become more involved with House of Hope, help lead our small group, finish all my Institute homework on time, develop a new Sunday School system, be able to (somehow) run our business and still teach the majority of the time, cook real meals every day (or even every other, let’s be honest…), help translate, improve our ESL program, be in the classroom more, teach violin, get to know the youth of our church, lead worship, and help coordinate our short-term teams.  Oh, and train Osita to do more than “sit” and “shake.”  And read more fiction.  Ok, now I’m pushing it, I know…

Obviously, all of that = not gonna happen.

Without a specific job title or specific hours, we’ve been careful not to say yes right away to things because we know 1) we would always be working, and 2) we would be spread too thin to do any of it well. 

And after 28 years, I’ve learned the damage that a lack of boundaries can bring to your life.  Bad boundaries with relationships = unfocused and unhealthy.  Bad boundaries with work = exhausted, burnt out, resentful, and again, unfocused.  Especially coming from teaching in the States, where it is very easy to work 12 hour days to come home and do more schoolwork, I know how easy it is to get so distracted from the big picture.      

So this week when we were asked to help out with House of Hope, my first thought, as usual, was to be careful.  Don’t say yes too quickly, don’t add one more thing to the agenda that already has a list of things you want to do when you have time…  Just be cautious.

And then, almost instantly, I hear this still small voice gently reminding me –

“Christine, I am never cautious with you.  I loved you so recklessly that it put me on a cross...”

Wow.

So this is what that means then?  Completely forgetting about myself?  Not worrying about my own needs?  Is that even possible?  Is it healthy?

And what I have finally realized is that it’s not about being reckless with other people, it’s about being reckless with God.  It’s in loving Him recklessly that we find our true selves, and that we not only find but are also given the energy to do whatever He calls us to do.  (FYI, that’s not always easy.  Actually, it’s usually harder than not.  And that’s why you need to be recklessly in love :) 

There is room (PLENTY) for boundaries in our world.  I still believe in saying no, limiting work hours, and having to sometimes distance yourself in relationships. 

But not with God.

I don’t know exactly what it looks like or how to do it; all I know is that every time I try to figure that out, I sense Him reminding me to stop looking at all the people and things and just look at Him.  If I am fixed on Him, everything else works itself out. 

So maybe you need to set some boundaries in order to get to the point of knowing God and loving Him recklessly.  (You won’t have any other choice once you really know Him, I promise!)  I couldn’t encourage that enough.

And maybe you’re like me.  Who still, after all these years, needs a good reminding that He is my first love, and He will never let me down.                 

Survey and "Why is Julia Waterman..."

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