The Perfect Day

What constitutes a perfect day?  I guess for some it might be making the final payment on a home, finally getting that promotion, or learning that you are expecting a precious baby.  I'm sure if I were in those situations I would consider myself to be having a perfect day as well.  But sometimes the perfect day is simple.

In college, I remember thinking the perfect day was getting out of class early, the sun was shining, and I had enough time to take the long way down Washington and Dixie home, just to admire all the pretty homes. Maybe the perfect day was being home on Saturday evening, and roasting marshmallows with my parents and sisters.  Nothing extravagant had happened.  It was just a simple day, and in my eyes, perfect.

We've had some difficult days as of late, but Wednesday it was like God kept trying to remind me that he is still with us, that He is still in control. It was one of those simply, perfect days. Peace kept washing over me again and again in waves. There were no fireworks, no pomp and fanfare, just peace.  

It's hard to describe an indescribable peace sometimes.  Sort of like trying to describe the way something tastes, or the way the wind feels.  You have to experience it to know how it feels.  So instead of trying to explain it, I'll just tell you a little about my day.

The first wave hit me while I was sitting out beside the clinic with Manandi.  The ladies have been cutting grass this week so we sat on the now golden yard, just talking about playing soccer and a bad case of Malaria she had one time.  An odd combination, I know.  We sat there together, enjoying our slow day.  I tried to soak it all up.  Every last bit of sunshine and laughter.  

After a few more patients, we found ourselves inside packing medicine with John Mark.  He packed and we labeled.  Manandi started to sing a new song I had never heard before.  Neither had John Mark.  She taught us the words, and we kept singing this sweet melody, "...Aleluya, Hosanna! Aleluya, Hosanna! Jisas yu nambawan!.." The wave swept over me again.  

Church had ended, and I found myself nearly stumbling over myself as I walked back home.  I couldn't stop staring up at the sky, as the sun had begun to set.  All kinds of oranges and reds spilled from behind the clouds. The birds were singing.  A soft breeze was blowing. It was beautiful.  I wondered to myself how amazing our God truly is to give us these things.  He could have chosen to make everything brown, to give all birds the same song, and never have us feel the touch of a gentle breeze. His goodness swept over me. 

Then yesterday Rachel had asked if I'd like to walk up to the airstrip with her.  At the top, we were both able to call and talk to loved ones.  It was wonderful to hear my families voices again. I finished my conversation, and Rachel made her phone call.  I walked over to the other side, and sat down to read the book I had brought with me.  This day wasn't necessarily what I would describe as being beautiful.  Not like the evening before.  It was overcast and I could feel a few sprinkles while I sat reading.  But as I was reading I had to stop and just listen. I looked over at a vast amount of jungle trees, and watched as the wind blew through them.  The sound they made told me of my God's presence.  His peace washed over me again.

My day may sound a bit boring, but to me it was sweet.  God was reminding me that I don't have to look very far to find Him or His peace.  So in Him, my day was perfect.  

Around the World

On Friday night, I usually have Ariel and Hannah over for dinner and a movie.  They come over around 5pm and we have a big time before we crash!  I noticed last time that it seems we have been eating a different international dish each week. We've had pizza and skillet lasagna, a cheesy Mexican rice dish, and this last week Chinese fried rice.  We've now decided to make it our tradition to visit a different country each week. I think this Friday we're going to India!  Please comment and leave ideas for dishes in different countries that we could try out!

Weekend in Aminawa

This weekend Andrew and Rachel invited me to go with them to Aminawa.  Saturday the church members began putting the roof on their first church building, so we went to be of help and support.

We left early Saturday morning before the mist and fog had a chance to melt away. I rode in the back of the truck with Anteresa and Baimuri, and nearly all of their children. Me, two women, and a bundle of children all piled up in the back, with Andrew and Rachel in the front.  It was an interesting ride to say the least. Every now and then, I'd glance at a little face beaming with excitement at all the fun riding in a truck can bring.  Then we'd get jostled around a bit, and that expression would change. Usually that would result in laughter from me and the two mothers.

We made it to our parking spot, and began the hike into Aminawa. We arrived around 9am, as the men had already begun putting up the roof.  It was really neat to see all of the people come out to help, even those that don't attend church!  There were people all over the hill side all day long.  Men putting up the roof or digging a pit for the fire, and ladies preparing all kinds of food.  Rachel and I peeled lots of kao kao and bananas, but they had squash, tapioke, greens, pit pit, and more!  It was literally a dinner on the ground. Once all the food was ready, they brought it to us on banana leaves.  I was pretty hungry, but they must have brought me enough food for 3 large men, so I ended up sharing most of my meal. By the end of the day I was dubbed, Nani (Nah-nee). I'm unsure of the spelling, but it means big sister.  It made my heart smile:)

As it started to get dark we walked down to the community hall building, and Andrew and Rachel set up the projector so we could watch some films.  They showed the story of the serpent being lifted up in the wilderness, and it's connection to Jesus Christ being lifted up to die for us.  Afterwards we watched the life of Jesus in Pigin. There must have been up to 200 people there.  Many who have not placed their faith in Jesus Christ watched as the gospel was presented to them.  I couldn't help, but to look out at the faces aglow with the light of the projector, and wonder if God was tugging at their hearts.  I know we were all praying for those that might have been lost.  I have faith in God's promise that his word will not return void.

We stayed the night with Reuben, at his house along with Malasi, Phillip, and their families.  Reuben is a member of the church in Aminawa, and Malasi and Phillip are two of the bible school students here in Kunai. The next morning I woke up to pigs, roosters, and babies stirring around.  I left my little room to go sit near the fire in the big room.  Malasi and Phillip led a devotion for their families, and I just sat and listened as they sang hymns, and spoke from God's word.

Church began around 9am, and we sat under the tarp as the weather went back and forth from sunny and hot, to misty and cold. When you barely know Pigin and only a handful of Kamean words, it becomes increasingly difficult to stay focused on a message or conversation, when running on little sleep.  I couldn't help but think how nice it would have been to be sitting in a padded pew back home, listening to a message in English.  But then I remembered all the people who watched the video, who desperately needed to hear the Gospel, and I realized how much of a wimp I was being.  God commands us to go to the uttermost, and these people need Christ as much as we in America do.  I wonder what if no one had come to Aminawa or PNG because it was going to be uncomfortable.  I had to stop and think about that day when I come face to face with my Creator. When He asks me why I didn't tell my friend, my co-worker, or that stranger about His Son, Jesus Christ. What will I say to the One who bled and died for me.  The One who loves me with an incomprehensible love. "Umm, I didn't want to make things awkward?" My heart breaks at the thought of all my lost chances, and time that I've wasted.  I'm grateful for that reminder this weekend.  I needed it.

After church we hiked back home, and enjoyed a tasty pineapple along the way.  We stopped to visit with Benjamin for a little while, and storied with him about his new house and other things going on around here. He is always a blessing to visit with. He has such a sweet spirit that is sure to always put me in a better mood. We left from there, and made our way home in the truck safely.

It truly was a wonderful weekend.  Filled with new memories, and rekindled burdens.  I pray I don't forget them.

His Compassions Fail Not

They sit there on the clinic porch.  Mamas with their babies, old men with their walking sticks, and children with their cuts and bruises.  Sometimes it seems endless.  The work load becomes heavy, and the days become long.

Somehow now, my dreams have become reality.  The thing about dreams though, is that they can be perfect. They can be however you want them to be.

In my dreams, I didn't imagine myself struggling.  I imagined things perfectly.  I would be the best helper I could be.  I would love these people with all of my might.  I would have the best attitude all the time.  I would do this, and I would do that.  Do you get the picture?

What I've learned is, I can't do any of those things.  Only He can.

Sometimes I find that my compassion is lacking.  Sometimes I find that it becomes a mundane thing to stare at these faces day in and day out.  Faces that have come seeking help.  Yes, sometimes it's a simple scrape on the knee.  Sometimes it's more serious than that.  Every time it's deeper than that.  There is a need here so much greater than the physical.  They have a need to hear about the Man who came to set them free, the Man who loves them with an unending love, the Man who's compassions will never fail them.

My capacity to love them on my own is weak.  My compassion alone will fail them.  My prayer is that it won't be by my strength, or my love, or my compassion, but His while I serve and live here.  That I would love the way He does, unending, always giving, unselfish, and never prideful.

"because his compassions fail not.  They are new every morning."  Lamentations 3:22b - 23a