I Lift My Eyes

"The heavens declare the glory of God, 

and the sky above proclaims His handiwork." -- Psalm 19:1

I was approaching The Hill this morning, load on my back, eyes to the ground, wrestling with myself and God. The dewy grass wet my flip flop clad feet as I trudged on, not in the best mood to start off my day. But for some reason, I took my eyes off the ground before me and looked up. My breath was snatched away when I saw that God had painted the sky over Tigerville the purest, cloudless blue. In an instant, my attitude of frustration became an attitude of worship. My problems had not disappeared, but they became eclipsed by Something greater, their significance overshadowed by the majesty of the Creator. I continued on my way and climbed The Hill with a new spring in my step, fixing my eyes above, reminded that even when my problems are overwhelming, my God is ever so much greater. So, in the midst of your everyday, mundane circumstances and struggles, don't loose sight of Jesus. His beauty and promises are on display all around us. Sometimes all we have to do is look up.

Lemonade Love

"I can hear the least of these
Crying out so desperately
And I know we are the hands and feet
Of You, oh God

So, if You say move
It's time for me to follow through
And do what I was made to do
Show them who You are

'Cause I don't want to live like I don't care
I don't want to say another empty prayer
Oh, I refuse

To sit around and wait for someone else

To do what God has called me to do myself

Oh I could choose

Not to move, but I refuse..." -- Josh Wilson, "I Refuse"

Kids do the darndest things.

They make me laugh, they can make me want to cry, make me melt at their cuteness or make me promise never to have any of my own, but how many times to I step back and let them teach me? Not very often. Sometimes, however, I can't help but look at kids and wish I could be more like them. The past two days have turned out to be one of those rare occasions. 

Monday morning I shared with four groups of kids, rising K-5th graders, about the needs in Honduras and how my family is trying to meet them and share Jesus with the people. If you've been to a good old Southern Baptist Vacation Bible School, you'll no doubt remember the missions session, usually with a video of a different missionary each day. You also might remember taking up an offering throughout the week for a missions-related cause. Well, that day I was the "visiting missionary" and that week a computer for a portable ultrasound for my dad was the kids' mission project. 

My presentation was maybe 15 minutes. Super simple, super low-tech, just me and a few pictures on a screen. The middle two groups, the ones with the older kids, I thought did really well, listened and learned, and I felt pretty good about those groups. However, the first and last group, the younger ones, I felt were pretty much lost causes by the time I was finished. Someone always seemed to be talking or wandering around or getting carried away when I asked a question. But I did my best and breathed a sigh of relief when those kids left the room. 

Fast forward to 9:30 that night when I got a call from the mom of a couple of, you guessed it, the younger kids. She told me how they had come home talking about Honduras and the pictures of the kids there. They were especially impacted by what I shared about the kids who live at the dump. She then told me that they told her they felt like they needed to do something to help the people in Honduras and had been working hard for the rest of the afternoon planning a lemonade stand for the following day and inviting many neighbors to come and help raise money for Dad's ultrasound computer. The mom said that none of the neighbors could say no because they could see the passion these kids had for what they were doing and how excited they were to be doing something to help. 

Needless to say, I spent a couple hours of my evening at the home of this sweet family "helping" them do their lemonade stand. By "helping" I really mean just watching and talking to some of the people who stopped by because these kids were all over this thing. They were constantly running around asking if people wanted refills or if they'd like a cookie or lemon square or if they wanted to read about the Pirkle's in Honduras or gladly putting donations in the bucket, never saying a word about wishing they could keep the money for themselves. They wanted to do this. 

After everything wrapped up, they were all thanking me for coming by, and the whole time I just kept saying, "No, thank you guys!" I was the thankful one. Thankful for their giving hearts, their heartfelt concern for a people they've never met, and their refusal to sit around when they could act on the need before them.

Last night I prayed for a heart more like the ones this 4 and 6-year-old have. A heart of simple faith, simple love, simple obedience. A heart that puts compassion into action, that answers the voice of Jesus when He wants us to love the broken of this world, no matter how small our offering may seem. Because love isn't always lots of money or impressive campaigns. 

Sometimes love is just lemonade.