Tree of Transitions

It is almost November, the leaves are starting to turn and sing as they hit the ground. It is a beautiful time of the year. Today is particularly warm and I am loving sitting outside and reading. It is this beautiful change of seasons that makes me reflect about the transition that has happened in the last few months. I have gone through a lot of change and I am preparing my heart for more change in the coming weeks. I am in transition! I feel like every transition of my life is marked with the sadness of losing my summer leaves, yet the blessing of adding a new branch to my life tree.

For those of us who are in the TCK world, transition is a bittersweet word.  Part of our existence depends on transition. We “need” to be able to move and change. We get so excited about the opportunity of our life radically changing. It is part of who we are.  But the other part of us realizes with transition comes the “bad word,” good-bye. Because of all the transition we have had, we feel the hurt when having to say good-bye again. We have had to learn to be literally up-rooted in the middle of winter and transplanted and expected to thrive in another tundra. I am not much of a plant person, but I know that trees do not grown in the winter. Yet, because of the grace and love of God, we survive and somehow do grow despite the lack of ideal circumstances. However, if you were to honestly ask me, I would not trade this life style for anything in the world. It has caused me to grow and have stronger roots, every day more dependent on the true source of life.

I recently had a job interview out of state. When the phone rang and I was offered the interview, my heart was torn. I was excited about this professional opportunity and the chance to be near one of my dear college friends. But, I was also torn by the potential of having to leave my friends and family. I have been living in the same location for almost 10 months and have really tried hard to put down roots and grow close to people. I scheduled the interview, knowing that if this was what the Lord wanted for my life, He would make it happen, since it was so out in left field. I was trusting the Lord in a totally new way. He knows what my “life tree” needs.

The morning of the interview the Lord gave me this verse “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage” Psalm 84:5. This verse really helped me understand that ultimately my path is the Lord's, that He is the one who knows what He has for me. Long story short, I got the job. I am excited to see what the Lord is doing. I am excited for this new stage of life, adding a zip code to my collection. But at the same time I am sad that I need to leave the comfy “garden” I have been in.

So, here I am watching the beautiful golden crisp leaves dance as they gracefully fall to the ground. I am remembering all that God has done and is doing. I know that part of this transition will probably surprise me, part of it will be easier than I expect and I know that part of it will be heartbreaking, but I am truly excited for this next step and for what the Lord has for me.  I know that even though it might feel like I am losing some leaves, I am also going to be able to add a new branch. God is the head gardener and who knows exactly what we need and when we need it.

Broken Lock...

It was a beautiful day. The sun was out, it felt warm and the sky had a special clearness. The breeze was fresh and felt good against my hair as I biked . It felt good to be “free” and to just enjoy the day. I had woken up that morning planning to take a bike ride. After a few really stressful events, I needed to be outside and pray as I rode. I have found that biking is a great way for me to connect with God. I find myself always wanting/needing to do things so if I am physically moving it is easier for my brain to stay on task and pray. After riding around for exercise purposes, I rode to a coffee house to meet my friend. I parked and locked my bike at a bike stand at a bike shop close to the coffee house. I met up with my friend. We had a lovely time sitting outside while drinking chai and really encouraging one another. We are each going through some challenging situations. (I know you will probably read this blog dear friend so thanks for being so AWSOME J )

After our wonderful time we gave each other big hugs and we each went on our way. I walked back to my bike and started turning the numbers in the lock to unlock my bike. I used the correct combination but the lock would not move. I knelt down so I could really try to use all my strength but still nothing. I looked at the code and I was sure it was correct. I tried a third time nothing. I tried a fourth time and it was still not giving in at all.

In the middle of the frustration I happened to look up and saw that I was by the bike shop. I walked in and asked if someone could help me. The man behind the counter hardly looked up at me. He was really concentrated on the bike that he was fixing. He pushed back his glasses that had started to slide off his nose and gave me some WD40 to put on the lock to loosen it. I walked back out and generously sprayed WD40 all around the combination part and moved all the numbers back and forth so this “magic spray” would get in and help my desperate self. I turned the numbers back to the code and hoped that this would work. However, it did not. It was still not moving at all. I tried a few more times but still nothing. I finally admitted defeated and walked back in the bike shop and asked the bike repair man to please help me!

To my surprise the bike shop owner was up for the challenge. He sprayed more WD40 and tried with all his force but nothing happened… I started to realize that I had two options, leave my bike in the bike rack forever or ask the kind bike shop owner if he knew how to cut the cable. To my amazement he had all the tools available to do this. I was sad that this meant that I was going to have to get another lock for my bike but the shop owner was kind of enjoying sawing the cord to set my bike free. After a few minutes I had a chain sawed in half but a bike I could ride. I thanked the kind bike owner for all his help and pedaled away. I noticed that the car parked a few feet away had a couple in it and they were smiling. I am glad that I was able to be a live circus for them!

On the way home I thought about what had happened and realized how so many times my life is like my bike. I would not have the potential for fulfilling my purpose in life if it was not for the power of the blood of Jesus on the cross that broke all the chains that had me tied down. It is only for his purpose that I live. I can use my time and gifts to go wherever he wants me to go and to love and encourage the people He puts in my path! J  

“Vintage Neighbors?"

All of the sudden the car stopped. I was driving and even though I had my foot on the accelerator and was pushing down, the car was suddenly slowing down. Fortunately, no one was behind me, so I used the little power that the car had left and tried to pull off the road the best I could. I was driving my grandmother's car, as she was to tired. I had gone up to visit her for her birthday and we had run some errands and gone out for a drive. I think it must be a “generational thing” but my grandmother loves to go for drives. She just loves us to just drive her around. I do not know why but she finds it so relaxing to just drive around. Where I only drive to get myself from point A to point B.

As the car came to a complete stop, she asked what was going on. I said “I do not know, the car just stopped.” I tried to turn the key but the engine just would not start. We switched places and she tried but the engine did not move at all. I felt horrible. I was trying to help my grandmother and bring her some joy for her birthday and our car had just “died” in the middle of the road. We managed to find her roadside assistance number and she called them. I was just enjoying the warm day sitting in the warm sun. My grandmother was freaking out but for some reason I knew that it was all going to work out. The Lord gave me lots of peace in the moment. I looked outside and saw some people starting to cross the street towards us. I did not dawn on me that they were coming to help until they asked us if we needed help. I had seen them but did not think that they would stop. I got out of the car as my Grandma was still on hold.

If I was to describe this couple I would say that they looked like they listened to country music and occasionally enjoyed a cold beer . The husband had on jeans, cowboy boots, an old shirt that has the sleeves cut off in a rugged fashion (this allowed all his arm tattoos to be exposed) and last but not least a well used sun dyed cowboy hat. The wife also had on jeans with holes (not the “fashionable” one you buy at Nordstrom for $100 but the wear and tear type of holes) and a pale blue scrub top that had different paint color stains on it in an asymmetrical fashion. She had on a hat with a big cross with large rhinestones. They were so kind and asked if they could help push our car to the driveway that was behind us. We agreed this would be a good idea. Another neighbor who was driving up the street also stopped when he saw us pushing. We all managed to get the car out of the way.

My grandma was finally able to reach the town truck and he was going to come in an hour. However, the problem was how were we going to get back home from the mechanic. As my Grandma asked me this the “wife” said “I can take her to get her car.” We all agreed that this would be the best decision. She pulled her car up and off we went. I must admit that their was a moment when I was like “Maribeth, this is really not a good ideas.” My mother's voice was suddenly in my head from when I was a child saying “never get into the car with a stranger.” For all I knew this women was a stranger. But I felt like I had no other option but to trust her; unless I wanted to walk home (which would have probably taken an hour. I could have done it, but I knew my grandmother would not be able to). I said a quick prayer of protection and I clicked my seat belt. We had a really nice conversation on our way to my grandma's house. I got my car and we all met up again at the side of the road. The tow truck still had not arrived. The friendly couple said that if we needed anything we could just ring their doorbell. We thanked them for all their help and waited in my grandmother’s car as their house was just a few yards away.

After 45 minutes of sitting in the car, the tow truck came.  I  got into my car with my grandma and drove, following the tow truck to the mechanic. Since it was a Friday the mechanic said that he was not going to be able to look at the car until Monday. So after we explained what had happened, I took grandma to the store so she could get some things she needed since she was not going to have a car for a few day. We then arrived safely at her house after this crazy adventure, I was glad that I was able to be with Grandma during this time and that she was not alone. I drove back home that night. I called her the following Monday afternoon and she was happy to report that her car was fixed and at her house. I was glad that all things considered it was an “easy” fix.

As I was driving back home I had a few hours to reflect on what had happened. The truth is that we have lost the notion in our culture of being neighborly. We hardly ever see our neighbors or help them for that matter. But the truth is that it is so important to bring this “vintage” idea back to our culture.  I have many times heard lots of older people talk about how some of their closest friends where their neighbors. However, I feel like in current times this idea is the exception not the rule. Many times it is just the simple things that neighbors would do for each other. I was challenged by the goodness of this couple to really take seriously the idea of being neighborly and going out of our way to help each other out as much as we can. Hope that this blog challenges you to be more of a “vintage” neighbor.

Dirty Heart

You are probably thinking at this point, “ok MB we get the dirty reference…maybe you should move on.”  I know that it might be cliché, but God is really speaking to me through this analogy. So please bear with me J  This is another blog from my mission trip to El Salvador.

“Once again the assembly line was put together. This time we knew how to make meals for the homeless and our spirits where high. We all laughed and talked as we put together the meals. This time we made 200 meals. Little did we know what the Lord was going to do that night.

We once again all loaded up in the truck. I, for some reason, sat between my uncle and the girls' basketball coach. Needless to say it was a Maribeth sandwich. But I felt safe. I knew that as the truck took all the sharp turns I was not going to fly out by any stretch of the imagination. The missionary's mentality is that they feed everyone. Homeless, prostitutes, gang members, etc. I really like this approach because Jesus would not discriminate so why should we.

Our first stop had around 40 people; many of them women with small children. My heart was torn at such a sight. After feeding them we drove on and stopped to feed a prostitute. My uncle reached out to give her the bag of food and said “Jesus te ama” “Jesus loves you.” She abruptly stopped, turned around, astonished at such a declaration. She looked at us with a confused look. Her face was pale and her dark eyes looked lifeless. You could tell that years of lies, darkness and lust did not add up to a man saying in a polite and respectful way that Jesus loved her. My uncle, being the gentleman he is, repeated his previous statement. She still looked at us with such unbelief and tangled thoughts.  Our prayer that night was that if this was the first time someone told her that she was loved by Jesus, she would be able to find a way out of prostitution and into God’s arms.  

We keep on driving and stopped and fed three other prostitutes. When they came up to the truck my heart went out to them. I wanted to hug them and tell them that Jesus loved them with a love that does not want to take off their clothes but wanted to clothe them in righteousness. The truck started up and I was not situated in my spot. I instinctively leaned into my uncle, I knew that he had my back and that He would do anything to keep me safe. At that moment I realized that these girls probably never felt any of the caring love that I was feeling. I wanted to tell them how they need to put their hope in Jesus.

Our world is full of people with dirty hearts that do not have the light of Jesus. It is because of these dirty sinful hearts that prostitution exists. It is so important that we start to bring hope and life into the hearts of people around us. Our world needs Jesus. It is that simple. Would we be motivated to get out and start to share of the love, forgiveness and hope that only Jesus and His cross can give? Might these “dirty hearts” be transformed with righteousness by the power of the Holy Spirit?

If you want to find out more about the work being done in El Salvador visit http://allblessingswest.blogspot.com Thanks! 

Dirty Hands

This is a blog that I wrote while I was in El Salvador. This experience really changed me and helped me to put different things in perspective. Hope you enjoy it!

Monday, July 21, 2014

Dirty Hands

Blog post written by Maribeth

I am sitting under a tin roof listening to a symphony of rain drops on the roof. Can I say that I love being in Latin America! I am a Missionary Kid (MK) from Argentina. I have grown up helping out with short term missions trips and LOVE every minute of it. This is the first time that I have been in El Salvador. It is a beautiful country but what has been even more meaningful is the peoples' love and passion for the Lord. 

Last night we had the privilege of making food and going out to serve the homeless. I have never actually fed the homeless before because it is too dangerous to do so in Argentina. I was excited and had prayed a lot that the Lord would allow me to see these people with his eyes.

The first step of this process was to make a big assembly line. I must say that they had a great system going. We prepared sandwiches and included a bag of cookies, chips, an apple, a juice box and a Bible verse. We quickly prepared around 144 meals. Then we all loaded up in the back of the truck, prayed, and we were off. It was so incredible to see the beautiful city at night.  The whole experience truly was amazing. We stopped at many places that Kurt (the missionary host) knew by heart.  It was almost unreal how people would "magically" appear from the dark corners at the vibration of the truck. My job for the first part was passing out hygiene products (Yes, I am a nurse and washing my hands is crucial to my existence). Little did I know that the Lord was going to teach me a big lesson tonight.

At the second stop I handed out a bag of food to a man who thanked me  I could see how his hungry belly was thankful because his eyes sparkled in the night reflection. He then did something that I did not expect. He held out his dirty hand to me. As a nurse I knew that his hand would not be clean by any stretch of the imagination and I did not want to think of all the germs that he had. I held back my hand for a second, but then the Holy Spirit came upon my heart and said "Maribeth, he is my child and I love him. Do the same." "Ok Lord." I smiled, held out my hand and said "Muchas bendiciones" (which means many blessings). For a second  in my mind time stopped. I could see how the spiritual and physical world collided by such a simple action:touch. Because of security reasons we where not let out of the truck yet I had felt the dirtiness of homelessness. This was a defining moments for me because of the conviction that the Lord brought to my heart and mind at that moment.  My thoughts came back to "reality" as the we sharply turned a corner. But little did I know that part of my heart will always be at that dark street corner in San Salvador 

As the truck took off I was forced back into my seat. I have learned that I can really fit in small places.  Part of the joys about being an TCK is that personal space is only a suggestion and not a rule. So when 20 people squished into the back of a truck that would comfortably  fit 8 people I was perfectly comfortable. I am only 5'3'' so I naturally do not need lots of room. I am not a touchily feely type of person but there is just something so sweet to be overseas serving the Lord in the back of a truck as the cool latin american wind blows thought your face and you feel like a sardine. It truly is what makes my heart feel so happy.   As we drove along the cool dark night, God really brought conviction to my heart. I realised what a shadow life I sometime live. I realised how much I complain about such meaningless things when I have SO much. I realised that I could be  on the street dirty, hungry, waiting and praying in my heart that bright blue truck would turn the corner and bring me a meal.Yet for some odd and unknown reasons I have so much yet I am blinded by it all.    

Another heart breaking experience was to see a little girl approaching the truck.  I was not prepared to see such a little children on the street.  God spoke to me again and reminded me that these are his children.   He loves them and wants me to love them like real humans as well. So many times we only want to take our Christianity to our "clean,  air conditioned churches," but we are really missing out of the kingdom mentality and loving HIS forgotten people.  We often only want to touch the world with our sterile gloves,with hand sanitizer clipped to our backpacks. We are afraid to touch the dirt of the world. But this is what we are called to do. So, let's take off the sterile gloves and start loving our world by getting our HANDS DIRTY!