Lighted Eyes

I always learn a lot through people watching. 

Heightened perception sometimes allows me to notice subtleties that others miss.

The past few weeks have given me ample opportunity for such activities. A week of VBS followed hard by joyful wedding preparations culminating in a beautiful ceremony. Four lives committed to their Savior. A weekend event highlighting missions.

Now I'm home again, for a few short days, reveling in quietness and contemplation of days past.

It's the eyes that hold me.

Eyes lighted with an undimmed brilliance. Eyes that have tasted freedom. Eyes filled with a new love.

There is nothing better than seeing luster kindled behind the eyes of my friends, and I call a lot of people friends.
You are my friend, and I want to see your eyes lighted too.

If your eyes have grown dull, Love's gleams are waiting at your command because my God is a Chain-Breaker. He opens prison doors, sets captives free, heals brokenness, ignites new love.

Will you let Him? If you are unsure of how, I would love to share.

I want to see you with lighted eyes.

It's a Mystery to Me…

Wispy clouds sail past my window as I watch my home of three months fade away. Palm trees wave their gentle farewell while the shimmer of tropical summer reflects the heat along with all its side-affects that has kept me close company recently. Crazy traffic-crowded streets indicate a country where every driver is a law unto his own. Trash-covered roadsides, vibrant green mountains, people who have melted their way into my heart—it is all indelibly engraved upon memory’s hallways, paint still fresh. Shortly my mind is ensconced by cloud trails to match those outside. It's a mystery to me…

I walk at a brisk pace towards the immigration hall lugging my partially incapacitated suitcase behind me while endeavoring to maintain intestinal peace. My eaves dropping capabilities have majorly improved since I first encountered this airport in January. I laugh later as I bump into someone and catch myself automatically responding with perdón or permiso despite the fact I’m now surrounded by English speakers. Other curious habits cause me to smile. Has this language, this culture, really become so much a part of me in so short a time? My mind is still whirling. It's a mystery to me…

It’s my last flight. The flickering lights of city night-life hold me captivated. They always have. Soon the view out my window evolves into complete blackness. I try to see the stars while attempting to avoid the draft coming from the exit row window. I’ve never been known to sleep easily on planes, yet at least I have an empty seat beside me this time. I curl up as comfortably as possible, heavy eyelids descending slowly. True to history, sleep eludes me while once again the inner recesses of my brain step into high gear. It’s a mystery to me…

My eyes cast a bleary gaze around my room. I'm frozen, standing in tired delirium at the doorway despite the fact that it is two o'clock in the morning and I'm incredibly sleep deprived. This room, this house, this country. How could I have become so comfortable as to count them normal? It's a mystery to me…

This enigma, this mystery has fastened its iron-fisted grip upon my heart. And in the silence of quiet morning broken only by occasional flame crackles, I find an answer.

It’s not the poverty, the necessity or even the simplicity of life, it's the contentment. 

These people accept their surroundings and day-to-day realities with a smile. They are satisfied to continue making tortillas and cultivating coffee on the mountainsides like their grandparents. 

If perfect contentment to accept with joy every situation God places in my life can make even a full life simple, that is true living. I can still dream, but I am satisfied that where He has me right now is the absolutely most beautiful place in the world to be.

It is no mystery…

Fun at the river…

Lettuce harvesting day!

Lost… :)

A weekend at the coast…

A friend in the nearby little mountain village of Cero del Torro

Promoting lettuce in San Pedro Sula

Now these are lemons!

Friday is craft day—my turn to teach… :)

The verdant garden

A caving adventure…

Mi amigas en el restaurante! 

A first-time mom, younger than myself, who I was privileged to assist through labor and birth

We Call It Sacrifice?

{Jeremiah 33}

“…and of them that shall bring the sacrifice of praise into the house of the Lord…”

I rest back into my chair and mull over this phrase.

We call a lot of things sacrifice. Giving a miserly amount for missions. Setting down a good book to go help our parents with a project. Speaking to someone who’s feeling lonely when we would rather be conversing with friends. Spending a day helping at the homeless shelter. Adhering to healthy lifestyle principles just because we know it’s good for us. Putting aside our selfish nature for the benefit of others.

We call this sacrifice. And I rebel.

Because if Christ truly has our hearts, the above is not sacrifice; it’s joy. Pure joy.

When the wellspring of Christ’s joy is in our hearts, to give is to gain; to obey is our pleasure; to share is our song. 

It’s an all-consuming pursuit of happiness of the eternal variety.

And praise? For the Israelites it was embodied in a physical offering, yet there is also the verbal aspect.

We often pride ourselves, thinking we declare our praise and adoration quite often.

We praise God when we call on Him and He shows us great and mighty things. We praise God for healing. We praise God for the big things in our lives. And to us, it seems no sacrifice. The blessings are so obvious.


But what about the things we take for granted? Or perhaps the things that don’t appear to be blessings?

Little things.

Like a minute of sun piercing through the clouds. Like a plethora of Bibles sitting on our shelf. Like instructive criticism from a caring mother. Like golden tamarack trees dotting the hillsides. Like a toothbrush. Like giving to sustain and educate a girl across the world. Like the gift of learning. Even like trials and temptations, suffering and pain, heartache and tears.

Yes, all these are worthy of our gratitude and praise. Through the eyes of the Infinite we can view even the thorniest valley as a gift from the Giver. And we mustn’t forget to pour out our hearts in thanks to the Giver Himself…

With all that He has done for us, praise is no sacrifice; to give is pure joy.