God’s Eyes

Hey y’all!  I did it.  I posted every day in July. But I’m going to be done with my every day posting now; it’s an added responsibility, and I want  a break…so it’s back to my “whenever I’m kind of inspired” schedule.  But before I go, I wanted to share something with you that I got in an email from Luke today.  Each week that he has been gone to China, his team has sent updates.  Here is an excerpt from his most recent note:

…Then we went inside the orphanage and waited for the kids. As the kids started walking out, some of them were severely disfigured, some had trouble walking and another boy was mute. Initially these kids repulsed me. I didn’t want to be near them. I asked my Father quickly, but sincerely for help to love these kids. Almost immediately I saw the children in a different light, and they began to smile. I began to have a deep love for these children.

When I read his words, I immediately began to sob.  I’m not sure if it was his honesty about his repulsion, or my realization that I do the same thing, that made me cry.  But I think it was the latter.  And I think the words were powerful to me because I realize that not only do some of the “least of these” repulse me, but I allow myself to stay in that state of repulsion and seeming superiority; I don’t ask God to intervene in my mind because I don’t think I am wrong. 

But I am wrong, so wrong, and when I am actually using the mind of Christ, the renewed mind that He has so graciously given, I can see even the imperfect as beautiful; I can see them as His creations, as His beloved children.

God allowed me to witness Luke’s authenticity about his sin through his email. He used it to show the ugliness that exists in my heart.  And it was that ugliness, I believe, that made my spirit sad. But, I don’t need to stay sad.  God has promised me power, power that frees me from my natural, sinful tendencies—the same power that Luke received immediately when he asked his Faithful Father.  All I have to do is ask. 

I have to ask Him to give me His eyes.

And then I have to remember to use them.

May it be so.

Give me Your eyes for just one second
Give me Your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missing
Give me Your love for humanity
Give me Your arms for the broken-hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach
Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten
Give me Your eyes so I can see

Chorus from “Give Me Your Eyes” by Brandon Heath

Happy Hairday!

As I have said before, when God knit me together in my mother’s womb some 45 years ago, I think He dropped a few stitches and forgot to give me the long, flowing hair that I so desire.  I guess He decided that the fine, thin locks he gave me was good enough because He was going to bless me with gorgeous-haired daughters in the future.  And bless me He did.  Both of my teenage daughters have thick curly hair that I can only dream about.  And because they know I can only dream about it, they decided to let me wear their hair for a birthday photo session.  See what you think of my beatific tresses:

                  

I also grew an extra pair of arms during the session…                        

And, as an added bonus, because it is my birthday, I will show some pictures of Cole with lots of hair.  I think he looks like Tess; what do you think?

                   

                   

Really!

My family just returned from our lake house this morning so that my daughters could get home in time to be counselors for our church’s kids camp this week.  We left on Wednesday of last week so we could get our fill of surf and sun.  Here are some things that happened during our time away which I thought to be strange: 

• On Wednesday evening, when we arrived, I had to mediate an argument between my 14 year old son and my almost 19 year old daughter; they were fighting over who got to use the Pound Puppy pillowcase (obviously a hot item—found only at the lake house) on their pillow.  Really.
• On Thursday evening, I heard a great thud in the basement of the lake house and found six foot tall Shay laying on the floor with her legs stuck in the baby exersaucer (we share the house with two other families, some of whom have grandchildren).  I soooo wish I had a picture of this, but I was laughing so hard I forgot to take one.  When I asked her what she was doing, she said she just wanted to see if she fit.  Really. 

         For the curious among you, an exersaucer looks like this:

                       

And for the even more curious, Shay looks like this: (does she look like she would fit?)

                                              

 

• Then, on Friday, as I was attempting to re-learn how to slalom (since I sprained my ankle last summer and didn’t ski all season), and had just gotten up out of the water, I looked to the shoreline and I saw this:

(Now please be gracious with me.  This is just a rendering of what I saw.  I have no fancy computer programs and I had to draw it on Microsoft Paint.  I realize it is rough, but I looked it up on the web and found no images of what I witnessed.)

          

If you will notice above, you will see a boy on a 4 wheeler, with two long poles attached, one to either side of the vehicle.  On each of this poles were three dogs attached by leashes.  All six of these dogs were apparently going on a mandatory walk with all of its friends and the whole group was having a mandatory drink session in the lake.  I guess this guy had six dogs and decided to create a multi-dog exercising/watering device.  Really.

I wondered what would happen if one of the dog friends accidently tripped…and I pictured the tripping dog getting drug along with all of its friends even though it wasn’t really running/walking anymore.  It was funny and sad all at the same time.  And I was skiing on one ski the entire time I witnessed this. And I was yelling and pointing the whole thing out to my family. Talented aren’t I? 

• And if that all wasn’t exciting enough, on Saturday night, when we went out for ice cream at the local Conoco gas station to celebrate my upcoming birthday (we are extravagant), we saw a reindeer.  Really.  I am not joking.  We saw a real live reindeer in Corydon, Iowa.  It was hanging out behind the cemetery that we drove through as we ate our ice cream (and we are exciting).  I’m not sure why Corydon, Iowa is hiding reindeer behind its cemetery, but we saw an entire family and the dad looked like this (this time I actually took a snapshot). 

 

• And that about sums it up.  Really.  Bet you can’t top it. 

Still a Merciful God

I know some of you have already seen this on Facebook, but I thought it was so excellent, I wanted to share it with those who hadn’t.  It is a blog post by a mother from Colorado who, with her daughters, survived the recent movie theater shooting in Aurora, CO.
I so appreciate her willingness to share and the perspective that God allowed her to gain amidst this tragedy.  Please click on the link below and read her story:
http://aminiatureclaypot.wordpress.com/2012/07/20/so-you-still-think-god-is-a-merciful-god/

Remembering Rosebud

Now it's Cole's turn to tell his mission trip story. Read on... Earlier this summer I went to an indian reservation in South Dakota, called Rosebud. our main purpose of going there was to get to know a few the kids and develop a good relationship with them, then hopefully tell them about God's love. One of the kids that i got to know was a 5 or 6 year old named Mark. Mark young enough that he still had a pure heart that hadn’t been corrupted by the many temptations that the teenagers had to face, like drugs or alcohol. Even so he still had many troubles with his family life, we were talking one day and he told that his mom didn't live with him. We spent a lot of time together playing and talking, just getting to know each other. We had some good talks about the bible, he really liked the books mark and james because his name was Mark James. I talked to him about how the world was created, the ten commandments, and finally how Jesus loved him so much that he was willing die a horrible death just for the sins in little Marks heart. We ended up one night drawing with sidewalk chalk. I drew the bridge illustration, how man was on one side, a cross representing Jesus in the middle and God was on the other side. I told him the only way to get to God was to walk across the cross and ask Jesus to forgive his sins. Mark then proceeded to get up from where we were sitting, Grabbed a piece of chalk, drew a two foot Cross on the ground and walked across it saying that he wanted to follow God now. So I got up and brought him to the Veterans center, where we were staying for the week, and prayed with him to become a Christian. We spent a lot of time together for the rest of the week, and when I had to leave I started to tear up because we had become really good friends, then he drew me a picture of us to playing together and I had trouble getting in the car and saying goodbye to Mark, a good friend, and a new brother in Christ. Cole Haverkamp

A View from the Summit

In June, Tess had the opportunity to attend a fantastic worldview conference in Colorado.  And since we have been having a kind of “missions” week for the past few days, I asked her to write about her experience.  Here is what she wrote:

This summer I had the opportunity to attend a leadership, worldview, and apologetics conference with one of my good friends, Bethany. Although the complexity of such an experience can hardly be described through words or even pictures, despite their thousand word reputation, I will try to recreate the fascination, depth, community, and beauty I found during my two weeks at Summit.

Our adventure began as we drove up the winding mountain roads of Manitou Springs, CO, towards Summit’s circa 1880’s hotel. The aged building boasted wooden siding, large windows, and a porch lined with green rocking chairs. Situated at the foot of the mountains, peaks were visible in every direction. As we walked in the doors, we were bombarded by gentlemen wondering if they could carry our luggage up to our room. I was in love immediately.

The next two weeks flew by, with classes every morning and evening, and we were able to hear from leading apologists on every topic imaginable: politics, law, abortion, homosexuality, government, scripture, popular culture, science, sociology, history, worldviews, morality, art, leadership. I had never felt so unprepared to defend what I believe in my life. As Christian, I think that we often take our trust in God to be something simplistic and blind. We don’t know why we believe, only that we do. We know that the gospel is truth, but are unable to defend in the light of unbelief. Yet, we are called to love God with our heart, our souls, and our minds. The beauty of Christ is His intricacy, despite simplicity, and His indescribable complexity discovered through reason. We need to embrace both sides of our faith: trusting and reasoning, because the two do not oppose each other, rather, they work in unison.

My idea of what the Christian faith and worldview are broadened immensely as we studied different topics. I learned how God has established a moral code that is known by all, and therefore there is a “right” and a “wrong” (applying a Christian worldview to law). I learned that the laws of physics are set to such an exact measure, that the chances of them being such that humans are able to survive are akin to throwing a dart and hitting a target the size of one atom in the entire universe (applying a Christian worldview to science). I learned that Christianity is the only worldview that has a solution for the problem of evil (applying a Christian worldview to philosophy). I was able to see the Christian worldview applied to all facets of life and was awed by how God planned out the world in a way that we can discover it.

In between classes, we had time to enjoy the beautiful scenery, play volleyball, eat amazing food (Summit even applies a Christian worldview to food – think about it), and meet people from all over the country and the world. Oh yeah… we also got evacuated due to the forest fires. And although it was difficult and uncomfortable at times, it really was a blessing. We were able to witness the body of Christ come around us as all our needs (and beyond) were provided for by Mountain Springs Church and local businesses. Our whole group grew closer as we slept and lived in close quarters. We were able to keep our class schedule, thanks to an amazing staff. It was, in fact, such a small event in light of the whole two weeks, that I often forget to mention it when I talk to people about my trip. God truly did provide and look after us.

Looking back, Summit has provided me with a foundation on this summer and next year. I’ve committed to reading a book a week for the rest of the summer (so please ask me about it!) to learn why and not just what. It has also given me a desire to have discussions about my faith, whereas before, I would shrink from them. I strive to glorify God with my mind, as well as my heart and my soul, and show the world that I am serious about knowing what I believe. Are you?

Tess Haverkamp

Happy Luke

Since Luke is still away and can’t yet post about his trip and experiences,  I thought I would share a photo of him.  For the last month of his mission trip, Luke is helping with Bring Me Hope, a camp for orphans in China.  Here he is with a new-found friend.

      

From Haiti with LOVE…continued

  

(This is a continuation of yesterday’s post.)

Secondly, Christians in Haiti worship Jesus with unashamed passion. Going to a Sunday evening church service in Haiti is an experience I will never forget. How is a Haitians’ church service different than an American church service? The real question is how are they the same? For starters when’s the last time you saw Cornerstone’s congregation break out into a Congo line in the middle of worship? I’d have to say it’s been a pretty long time. The Haitians are so full of joy and passion when they worship that they can’t stand still. At the beginning of the service, the congregation began to sway and clap to the simple, VERY repetitive songs. Before I really knew what was going on, every one was jumping up and down saying, “Alleluia!”, “Praise Jesus!” and “Amen!” over and over (or at least those were the words I could understand). The kids latched on to our hands as we twirled them around. This spontaneous dance party lasted over an hour, and by the end I thought I might pass out. Their joy was so contagious I could not stop smiling. As it wound down, everyone stood panting and dripping sweat in the very hot Haitian weather. I soon found out this wasn’t a one-time deal. The Haitians did this every week. In fact, the service was usually longer, but they didn’t want to wear the Americans out. It made me think of Heaven, when one day, all tongues tribes and nations will come and shamelessly worship the king.

I can tell you one thing. If Americans worshiped like Haitians did, we would all be in really good shape.

Lastly, the biggest reason why I loved Haiti so much had little to do with the country itself. It had a lot more to do with me and God. While I was in Haiti, I was there for God. I had no distractions, everything I did was purposeful. I went knowing that my only goal for the next nine days was to bring God glory, I had no other responsibility. There is so much joy and contentment when you follow God’s will and His plan. When my trip was over, I realized (though it seemed easier to do when I was on a mission trip) that I don’t have to stop following God’s plan for my life. I can still make everything in my day purposeful in glorifying God. It just seems a lot harder to do when you’re in real life in your own country. Though I loved Haiti and would love to go back, I can still give God glory in America. There are many here that are just as lost.

God really used Haiti to change my life and I hope he used me to bring joy, hope and life to the people of Haiti as well. I will never forget the contentment in the midst of poverty, the passionate worship in the midst of a dark country, and the joy that comes when you choose to let God use you for His work.

Shay Haverkamp

From Haiti with LOVE

                                      

Shay just returned from a life-changing trip to Haiti.  She was so full of joy when she came back that I asked her to write out the things she learned there.  Today and tomorrow, she will share what God did through her, and to her, as she followed Him in Haiti.  You will love her stories.

I just got back from a mission trip to Haiti, and I don’t really have the right words to relay that experience to others who weren’t there. But I’ll try to give you a little picture of the last 9 days of my life. After 3 flights and a long, and relatively sleepless, night at the airport, my team of 17 arrived in Haiti. As soon as we got off the airplane we knew we weren’t in America any more. A group of men with guitars and maracas greeted us as we walked in the very hot Haitian airport. We were the spectacles of Port-au-Prince that day as the native Haitians watched 17 very tired, hot, and confused white people walk in the airport in their matching bright pink t-shirts. We finally made it past immigration and to the van and truck that our gracious hosts had prepared for us . For the next three hours we bumped, honked, and swerved our way past the Haitian countryside. As I sat with my eyes glued to the window (that is, when I wasn’t sleeping), I saw goats, dogs, donkeys, pigs, and chickens roaming the streets and open fields. I saw piles of garbage filling every available ditch. I saw women carrying very impressive amounts of cargo on their heads, children that were naked and underfed, and tents, made from tarps, that these people called their homes. Over the next few days I grew to love this country and these people that seemed so different than my own. When I came home and my mom asked me why I loved this dirt, poor, and very hot country so much, I could answer that question in so many ways: the beautiful children, the majestic scenery, my wonderful team, the fresh mangos, the list goes on and on. But these are my top three:

First off, Haiti is very poor. Some go days without eating or have to be satisfied with one meal a day. I saw one-room houses made of dirt that held families of 7, 8, or 9 people. Children were naked because they had no clothes, little boys begged for water on the streets, and most children that do not get the chance to go to school are forced into child labor…and yet these people are full of joy. They are perfectly satisfied with the smallest gifts. Two stories illustrate my point perfectly:

Every afternoon we hosted a VBS camp for the kids in the community. Our second class each day was a class of older guys; many looked to be my age. Some were younger, and some maybe even a little older. I was concerned that many of the crafts we brought were far too elementary to entertain a class of this demographic. On the third day we were scheduled to decorate picture frames and draw a small picture for the inside. I wasn’t sure what to expect. In America, I would probably either get laughed at or watch as the teens did a half-hearted job so they could get on with their life. But here, I was completely wrong. For the entire half-hour that these boys had art, they carefully and skillfully made the wooden Popsicle sticks into works of art. Many of them wrote names on them, with the intention of giving them to someone else. Even our adult translator sat down to make his own; they were so thankful and satisfied with four wooden sticks.

My second story takes place on our last afternoon in Haiti. Our team had packed up many Ziploc’s full of rice and split into groups. We then went out to bless the community with prayer and a physical gift of rice. After stashing the heavy bags of rice into our backpacks (so as not get mobbed), we wove our way through the streets. On our way, dirty children reached for our hands, every eye turned to the out-of-place white people, and we had to carefully navigate the path so as to not fall in a puddle of mud or trip on a nearby wondering goat. Our translator led us into a yard, and an older frail lady in a blue dress was sitting at a sewing machine. I regret that we never did get her name. After the usual greetings, we told her why we were there and, through our translator, asked if she had a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Her face lit up as she told us how she came to know Christ when she was sick and pregnant with her first child. Then she called out and a healthy looking teenager came into view from behind the mud hut. This was the child that she had been pregnant with. We then gave her the gift of a small bag of rice. She smiled wide and repeatedly said thank you! Thank you! God bless you! Her smile was radiant. She had so little, yet such great joy. I will never forget the smile on the nameless woman in the blue dress.

(to be continued tomorrow…)

Obedience=more grace

This has been a week of heavy writing for me and heavy reading for you.  So, today, you just get to contemplate…

“The level of my growth in grace is revealed by the way I look at obedience.”

Oswald Chambers in My Utmost for His Highest (July 19)

Chew on that for awhile.

Why do you call me, 'Lord, Lord,' and do not do what I say?

Luke 6:46