ALONE WITH YOU

Alone with You, my Lord.
Alone, my God, my King.
I’m struggling to worship You.
I’m trying hard to sing.

In this place of desolation
My heart is thirsty for
A place where I will worship,
A sky where I can soar.

But people close around me.
Secularity surrounds me.
These “Christians” they drown me,
Until Your love has found me.

You throw me to the sky
With updrafts of Your love.
Though I must soar alone,
I still will soar above.

So, this is my choice:
I will lift my voice.
I will rise and sing.
I will praise my King.
I will give my all,
Though others may fall.
I will rise and soar,
And fly for my Lord

Though I must soar alone,
I still will soar above.

TEARS AND NO WORDS

17 November 2005
About saying goodbye

Tears stream down my face today,
And I have no words I can say.
I wish I could say something nice,
To ease the pain and make it all right.
I wonder about what Jesus would do.
What words of encouragement would He give to you?

But I can’t say a word,
Even if I try.
All that comes out
Are the tears I cry.

My mind keeps going back to,
How lonely I’ll be without you.
We’ve been together for so long.
To be apart will feel so wrong.
And now, a smile I’m faking,
As my lonely heart is breaking.

Maybe we’ll meet again.
Maybe we’ll still be friends.
Maybe we’ll still be close, somehow.
Maybe we’ll still talk again, but for now—
Remember, money and things come and go,
But people and love last. So—

Hold your friends close to you.
Keep your memories of them, too.
And in the dark of night,
When nothing feels right,
Look to Jesus who holds your friends.
Pray for them again and again.
When you’re lonely and down,
Look to Jesus and lose the frown.

So, cry for me, hold me,
Love me, remember me.
I love you, I’ll pray for you,
I’ll miss you, I’d die for you.

HE SHINES STRONG

Monday 12 January 2009-Tuesday 12 January 2009

When the Sun is bright,

When the Sun shines strong,

When the Sun is my Light,

He shines strong.

When darkness surrounds me,

When the night seems long,

When my blindness confounds me,

He shines strong.

When my strength starts to wane,

When my right is wrong,

When I’m making no gain,

He shines strong.

When I’ve lost my heart,

When I’ve lost my song,

When I fall apart,

He shines strong.

 

When He picks me up,

When I belong,

When He fills my cup,

I shine along.

O Praise Him!

Last week, BBC had its annual Missions Conference. The program was designed and run by ABWE (Association of Baptists for World Evangelism). On Friday, the last day of the conference, we had an activity called “The Amazing Grace Race.” “Missionaries” were selected from each of the four groups, and these were sent to another classroom to deal with things that you might encounter on the field.

The “sending Churches” read and discussed 3 case studies from actual situations involving missionaries with various problems.

My sister and I were chosen as missionaries, and when we had finished our “field work,” we returned to our sending Church.

We arrived just in time to catch the discussion for the last case study. My interest turned to distress as I realized what they were actually discussing. Here follows the case study . . .


“CASE STUDY 3
The Context: First Term Missionaries with a Medical Emergency

The Dilemma: A missionary family commissioned by your Church departed for the field after two years of pre-field ministry. They successfully completed the 9-month language and culture study and assimilated into their ministry team. They have nearly reached the midway point of their first 4-year term of service. They are involved in a Church plant. He is a theological educator and is teaching a couple courses at the Bible school. She is a nurse and is serving through compassion evangelism in a clinic ministry with a fixed number of hours per week while also mothering their two pre-school children. God’s grace has enabled them to adjust well to cross-cultural living and serving. But their 2 year-old daughter has developed recurring urinary tract infections that have not been eliminated over the span of seven months. And the wife is expecting their third child four months from now in early June. The medical care on their field is seriously lacking. Having studied the options and consulted with their field team, home Church, mission administrator, and mission medical director, they decide to return home for a scheduled 6-month medical emergency in order to obtain a diagnosis and treatment for their daughter’s recurring illness and to deliver the baby. They plan to return to the field and resume ministry when the newborn is two months old and has built up immunity – important given the underdeveloped field where the family lives and serves. Five months into the medical leave in the USA, the family has reported to some supporting Churches and welcomed a new baby into the family born on June 2. But their 2 year-old daughter’s recurring UTIs continue despite appointments with several specialists and various treatment plans. And in late July, their 4 year-old son develops a fever. He is hospitalized, the fever spirals out of control, and less than a week from the onset of symptoms . . . he dies on July 25.”


The Thyng family. I didn’t know them very well, but the memories of the tragedy itself were enough to cause me to cry. I looked back 3 rows at Naomi. She was crying, too.

Dan and Amy were fellow missionaries, on my field, and they were new. They were just to the point where adjustment could shift into effective ministry. When their 2 year-old daughter Kate had a recurring urinary tract infection, they decided to return to the States. Another concern was Amy’s highly pregnant state. With an impending birth and a 2 year-old in poor health, the family returned to America. While getting medical attention, their 4 year-old son Tyler contracted Kawasaki’s disease and died very suddenly.

My parents were able to go out for the funeral and Naomi and I took care of our little sisters. My parents were treated as a part of the family. We were all given intimate details of the tragedy and funeral. The long-term repercussions of how this would affect the Thyng’s, their ministry, and even PNG’s field were devastating. As I listened to the case study, I cried. All the memories came back in a rush. My mind went numb, yet it shot in every direction. The session concluded, and we all headed to the concluding session of the conference. The memories continued to rush in, but this time, they were accompanied by other memories. Memories of Abi.

I picked up parallels that I hadn’t seen before.

Tyler died suddenly, and Abi had gone downhill really fast. When Abi happened . . . my mind remembered Tyler.

I was afraid.

So, I sat in the concluding session, trying to pay attention, and trying not to cry.

I cried for Tyler. I cried for the Thyngs. I cried for Abi. I cried for my family. I cried for King’s Dad who was having medical problems. I cried for King’s family. I cried for me.

I wanted to be willing and able to give up anything and everything for the service of Christ.

I was giving up future children, my sisters, my father, my life.

I cried.

Abi is in Idaho now for a missions conference. She is sharing her story and touching lives. I asked her once if she wished it had never happened.

Her answer: no.

She proceeded to tell me what God has done through her suffering. She told me of a story where she had the opportunity to share Christ’s message with a lady who had asked her what happened. “God saved my life from necrotizing faciitis.”

I envy Abi. She is only 13, but she is learning to trust God in ways that even I at 22 have problems with.

She made a powerpoint presentation of pictures telling her story. They play the song, “It’s Gonna be Worth it,” as the pictures played through.

What a great testimony to God!It’s gonna be worth it!!

Abi’s face is worth it. Tyler’s death is worth it. King’s Dad’s cancer is worth it. Anything and everything we can give to our Great God . . . is WORTH it.

It’s not for us, it’s not for our glory. It’s all for God. It hurts sometimes. It hurts A LOT.

Tyler would’ve had his 5^th birthday last week.

It’s gonna be worth it all.

I SURRENDER ALL

I surrender all,

Surrender all my rights.

My rights are what I give.

I give up all my life.

My life is not my own.

My own needs & wants I bring.

I bring them to my God.

My God, You are my King.

My King, please, take my all,

My all-consuming pride,

Consuming pride in the passion,

The passion of seeking You.

Seeking You in all.

In all I give my life.

My life is all for You.

For You, I surrender.

I surrender all.

My Self-Imposed Exile

I have decided that my priorities are not exactly where they should be. I have realized how much I depend on things instead of on my Great God.

I don’t enjoy reflecting on the amount of time that I have waste, but it is necessary to effect change in my life.

I have concluded that I need a break from a few parts of my life, in order to refocus. This is my mental reboot.

For one week I will have my laptop off as often as I can. I will not sign into Facebook. I will not sign into MSN. I will not sign into AIM. I will not turn on my phone, unless necessary (getting ride to church and safety reasons).

If I am needed, hunt me down. I might be in my room. I might be in the library. I might be on a walk.

THE PERFECT REFLECTION

Any amount of worth you see
Happens when you clearly see
The life of Christ, revealed in me,
The cross of Christ, despite of me,
When I resolve myself to be
The best reflection of my King,
And polish my heart to a brilliant sheen,
Which shines so bright, you can't see me.
Kartoon--Thursday 30 October 2008

THE PROBLEM OF PANDORA--WHEN I FALL--Romans 7:13-8:11

My Great God above, Whose love stretches far
Gave me a choice contained in a jar.

To open it up and to look deep inside,

Or to leave it alone, forsaking my pride.

He told me to leave it, to keep it shut tight.

I promised I would. I knew it was right.

I chose to look up, look only at Him.

The jar, although present, sat silent & dim.

Yet, its presence enticed me, curiosity flared.

Where my eyes often glanced, my hand longed & then dared.

Interest to addiction, & although my heart fought,

I found my attention was irresistibly caught.

Before I knew it, before I knew how,

I’d opened the jar, I’d broken my vow.

My tormentors Anger, Despair, Fear, & Self-Doubt,

The terrors of Hate & Confusion flew out.

They rushed at my throat, streaming full tilt,

Proclaiming my shame, screaming my guilt.

My throat met their razors. My heart met their knife.

They sought to destroy me, to stifle my life.

And yet, the blame lay only on me.

I had let my demons run free.

Without a doubt, I knew I was the cause.

I was the one who had welcomed their claws.

I had opened the jar. I had peeled back the lid.

I only could be blamed for the thing that I did.

They poisoned my life, each action, each thought.

My very existence was the battle I fought.

They blinded my eyes. They woke up my fears.

They strangled my voice. They choked me to tears.

Their torment was just, for the choice that I’d made.

But, you see, I’d forgotten that my price had been paid.

My Great God above, Whose love stretches far

Had already defeated my sins in my jar.

I was fighting for nothing, making no gain,

Because I was striving in only my name.

I struggled to see, straining for sight.

I wallowed in sin, while rejecting the Light.

I chose to be deaf. I chose to be lame.

I chose to neglect my Great God’s Great Name.

My Great God above, Whose love reaches deep

Had woken me from sin-filled, feverish sleep.

He had called my name & called me out.

I drank of new life, instead of drought.

My eyes had been opened. My heart had been cleaned.

There was such a difference when love intervened.

My Great God had saved me from sin & from shame.

In the great Book of Life, He had written my name.

My ears & eyes opened. I now know the cost.

My Savior, in love, had gone to the cross.

I had victory in Christ, my Hope and my Lord.

Yet, I still chose to sin and to suffer once more.

I let my sins linger & rip me apart.

I let them throw daggers & darts at my heart.

They grasped for a win, ever gasping for more.

They had victory in battles, though they’d never win the war.

My Hope is my help, in my jar I retain it,

But, my Hope cannot help if I choose to restrain it.

The choice was to continue, to live in the shade,

Or to abandon completely, my choice & my grave.

Whenever I choose to, I can return,

To the punishments invited by my self-concern.

I can live in my grave, surrender my rights,

Choose to lose sight of the Great Light of lights.

My Great God above, Whose love stretches far,

Gave me a choice, contained in a jar.

I was wrong when I opened it, wrong to despair,

But my Great God, my Hope, hears every single prayer.

I can pray for help, pray for God’s helping hand.

He’ll move sins to the sea and place me on dry land.

My sins only trouble me each time I commit them,

But my sins only remain as long as I permit them.

I can choose to live in the past, committing crimes from before,

Or surrender choice & self to the Great God I adore.