Faithfulness Undeserved

"Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen." -- Ephesians 3:20-21

God is faithful.


He has said so Himself and proved it throughout history. He has demonstrated it in the lives of my friends and family. I have witnessed His provision over and over and over again. He has never let me down. But His stellar track record just wasn't enough for me, and my heart clung to doubt rather than the Creator of the universe. In spite of this, He proved bigger than my fears (again), and this story adds another line to His incredible resume of faithfulness.


I suppose this journey began last summer. For some "strange" reason, Alaska kept popping up in random ways. I'd never really given it much thought, but several times throughout the summer, I'd read something about it or see something on Facebook about friends serving there and would think, "Hey, I'd really like to go there someday."


Enter Freshman Move-in Day 2011. I was on campus early to help out BSU prepare for the upcoming school year and help the freshmen, well, move-in. My church was also there, and I helped them pass out invite cards. These invite cards, in fact:

Guess what jumped off the page. It's hard to explain, but I knew the Lord wanted me to pursue the Alaska trip. I was really excited, thought and prayed about it during the next few days, would check the Renewal website occasionally to see if they posted any details. 


But the details never came. As the semester continued, when people would ask me what I wanted to do for spring break, I began to tell them, "Well, I really wanted to go on a mission trip to Alaska with my church, I just haven't heard anything about it yet." Christmas rolled around, and I gave the same answer to my mom when she asked. 


Then Passion happened. In the midst of all the insane worship and community and growth, I received a Facebook message from my college pastor: "hey elizabeth, can you go to alaska with renewal crew spring break week, march 2-9 (now through the 10th)?" FINALLY! I told him I would love to and waited for more details. 


And the details came. Cost: $1350. Oh. My excitement deflated a little and uncertainty began to creep back in. Clearly, I could not afford this from my own pocket. That meant that I would have to *gasp* rely only on the Lord to provide. I continued to pray about officially signing up, and still felt the Lord calling me to pursue this opportunity, so on Wednesday, Jan 11th, I put my name on the list, praying that the Lord would help me trust Him. I took this picture that night of the first time I journaled about going to Alaska, my journal entry that night, the Renewal invite card, and Isaiah 6:8:

I wrestled with trusting the Lord for the next several days, and I was getting really frustrated with myself. Why was my heart so bent on worry? Why on earth could I not trust the God of the universe, Whose  faithfulness is written in bold letters across history and my own life? I kept praying, "Lord, I don't trust you. I know I should, and I definitely want to, but I can't. Please, please help me trust You." I wrote in my journal, "Help me to let go of [the Alaska trip]. Peel back my fingers. I know You hold it and my whole life firmly in Your hand. Enable me to trust You completely."


On Saturday, I woke up and saw a message from my mom, saying that my parents were giving me money for my trip deposit that was due in a couple of weeks. I was really excited since I wasn't expecting that they'd be able to to give that much. It was such a blessing, but, of course, I focused mainly on all the money I still had to come up with. I posted on my family group's wall on Facebook early Saturday afternoon (a family group is a small group at Passion made up of 8 people who start off as strangers and become fast friends through meeting together to study the Scriptures and praying for each other). I asked them to pray for me about Alaska, that I would stop worrying about it and trust the Lord. 


Shortly after I wrote the post, I got a text from one of the people in my family group. In short, he told me that he had been setting aside money for the past few months, waiting on the Lord to tell him how to use it. He then said that when he read my post in our group wall, he knew the Lord wanted him to give the money for my trip, and asked how much I needed. I told him I still needed $1200. He said it was covered. I responded with an "Are you kidding me?" He wasn't kidding. I got his $1200 check in the mail Friday, and was able to turn in all $1350 for the trip yesterday. I didn't ask anyone for a dime. 


I am still astounded by the Lord's faithfulness; I hope I always will be. Just the fact that I did not even ask Him to do anything like this, that I just asked to be able to trust Him, is so humbling. In the midst of my wrestling with my lack of faith, He chose to pour out His faithfulness on me. It's as if He was saying, "This is why you should trust Me." I'm reminded of an Adventures in Odyssey episode called "Run-of-the-Mill Miracle," in which a young boy, Grady, is struggling whether or not to believe that God can do miracles. The wise Mr. Whittaker tells him:


"God works in lots of different ways. Sometimes He does things that will knock our socks off, and sometimes He works and we don't even recognize it."


At the end of the story, as Grady witnesses a miracle in his own life, he responds in a way so reflective of my own reaction to the Lord's faithfulness:


"Mr. Whitaker? I guess He decided to knock my socks off."


Me too, Grady, me too.


So, as I prepare for this spring break trip, I ask that you'd keep me and the whole team in your prayers. Ask that the Lord would prepare the way for us, and the He'd prepare our hearts to serve him. Pray that we'd have His passion for the people of Anchorage, and that we'd boldly declare the gospel of His grace, mercy, love, and faithfulness, so undeserved. 

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. 

"What's in a Name?"... and Other Pressing Questions

First things first... let me answer a couple of questions, primarily for my own clarity.

Why blog?

This will be the second blog I've started. The first I began in 2008 and I kept up with it pretty well for about a year... until I got a Facebook. Since the primary purpose of my first blog was to keep family and friends updated with the goings on of my life, Facebook quickly replaced my old blog as my primary online presence. However, as time went by, I grew to miss blogging. I missed being able to sit down and write what's been on my mind, tell about different experiences that have impacted my life, and share what God's been teaching me. A lot of this "need" in my heart has been met through journaling during my quiet time. However, I desire now not only to write but to share, and whether anyone reads this or not, this is something I feel compelled to do.

Why "The Unmasking?" 

The name of this blog definitely has a meaning that is close to my heart, so I wanted to take some time here at the beginning to attempt to explain it. The title's origins are drawn from a particular journey I've been on the past year or so, a journey involving one of my favorite poems, written by Paul Laurence Dunbar:

                    We Wear the Mask

    We wear the mask that grins and lies, 

    It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
    This debt we pay to human guile;
    With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
    And mouth with myriad subtleties.
   
    Why should the world be over-wise,
    In counting all our tears and sighs?
    Nay, let them only see us, while
            We wear the mask.
    
    We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
    To thee from tortured souls arise.
    We sing, but oh the clay is vile
    Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
    But let the world dream otherwise, 

            We wear the mask! 

I studied this poem in my senior year literature class, and it resonated with me then in a particularly powerful way because of what God had been doing in my heart at that time. I was becoming more and more aware of the need for me, as a follower of Christ, to be more "real" with other believers, to quit wearing "masks" of perfection, of having it all together, of being human. That thought scared me, and everything within me wanted to resist. Thankfully, God continued to work. He used another piece of media to pierce my heart during this time, a song by Tenth Avenue North about being "real" with the Lord Himself:

             Any Other Way

Verse 1

Don't say goodbye, don't say hello
We're just standing on the surface
Don't say alright, don't say I know
I promise it's not worth it
I want to know who you are
Even if you're falling apart
Reach in and touch your scars
And all the shame you've kept in your heart

Chorus
'Cause it's not enough
It's not enough
Just to say that you're okay
I need your hurt I need your pain
It's not love any other way

Verse 2
Let's not pretend
Stop your parade
Trying to convince me
That you're alright and everything's OK
Do you even know me
'Cause I already know who you are
And all things that kept us apart
So reach in and touch My scars
And know the price I paid for your heart

Bridge
A broken and contrite heart
I will not despise
Come as you are
And I won't close my eyes
I won't close my eyes (3x)

'Cause it's not enough it's not enough
Just to say that you're okay
You needed my hurt, you needed my pain
It's not love any other way (3x)

I wrote about this struggle with the lack of transparency in my life toward Christ and His followers in a poem for my senior literature class. 

             Sealed Heart

Your question seemed so simple

An innocent “How do you do?”

In answering, though, I had to decide

What I would share with you

To tell you how I really am

Cuts and bruises all

Or to once again box up my heart

Still aching from a fall

Transparency, it seemed so sweet

The rush of tears, release of pain

But for the fear of being judged

I sealed my heart again

You asked me how I was

And my trite reply was, “Fine”

But all the while I resolved

To break the seal next time

I find it amazing to look back on those days in the past and then see where God has me now. To think that He used things as simple as poems or a song in high school to begin a work in my heart that would bear much fruit during my first year of college still astounds me. The desire for transparency, to be unmasked, that He stirred in my heart during senior year He has granted through time I've spent with my re:group at Renewal Church and through the strong friendships at North Greenville. James 5:16, "Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed," has become more of a reality in my life and is no longer a verse I write off. Being "real" and open about what is going on in my life, what I'm struggling with, and what God's been teaching me has deepened and strengthened my faith in ways I couldn't have imagined a year ago. And though I am still far, far from being through with this journey, I hope this blog will be another step along the road, the road to my unmasking.