All the trivialities are part of a bigger design. In and of themselves, they are pointless, but, in the context of a life gifted by a Maker for the purpose of relationship, every dish washed, every diaper changed, every paper filed, every song sung, every word written become designs in the grand tapestry of an intricate story between creator and creation. It’s not pointless. It’s not futile. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Even the most mundane of tasks become meaningful and infused with deep sense of understanding, joy, and love.
Tag Archive for 'faith'
I got another gig. You probably already know about my job at Crichton College as an adjunct. It’s a great job and I’m grateful for it, but it doesn’t quite meet the budgetary needs.
I’ll cut to the chase. I scrub toilets on Monday mornings. I knocked four of those bad boys out this morning. They didn’t know what hit ‘em. But, I don’t just scrub toilets. I also clean, mop, sweep, dust, vacuum, etc. I am Mr. Clean. Except hairier.
Some really cool folks needed someone to help clean their house. I called them. They have a son in college named Ryan. Bam. I’m a housekeeper.
That makes me an enigma. A contradiction. An irony. Toilets by day. Hebrew by night.
I’m studying Hebrew right now. Hebrew puts lines in your forehead.
Have you noticed I don’t update like I once did. I’m sorry. I spend my free time exfoliating. Trying to get those wrinkles to iron out.
One last word, before I get back to my ha’ams and yabs: God has taken us out of the desert to an oasis. Our cup is full!
I am told, and I pay lip service to the fact, that the Christian “is a new creation” –that in some real but mysterious way he carries within himself a new life, Christ’s life. But how far I am from really accepting in heart and action the fact that every day I pass Christ in the street, ride with him on the bus, and serve him at the shop or in the office — and that I am charged with the privileged task of ministering to his growth in the souls of my brethren.
Paul Hilsdale, Prayers from Saint Paul
There’s no telling what God will do with you if you’ll sell out to him.
Dr. Allison
. . . is to them.
A little over a year ago, I wrote the following words:
This is a hard job. We knew that coming in, but we didn’t know it. You can only know how hard it is by doing it. But . . . the amazing thing is that God has given us the heart to do it. We very much enjoy the job, despite its hardness.
We’re getting dirty . . . . because we’re getting involved in messy lives. Real messy. About as messy as they come. And sometimes we find ourselves asking “Jesus, why did you put us here? What have you gotten us into?” To me, he always seems to say things like:
It’s not about you.
I love these girls as much as I love you.
These are the kinds of lives I got involved in when I was on earth.So we keep on keeping on in a spirit of worship and thankfulness. Jesus put us here and it’s a joy to work hard in his orchard.
We had been working at the Promise House for several months and reality had set in. The honeymoon was over.
Now, a year later, we’re still clinging to the hope that Jesus will profoundly heal the broken hearts we see manifested daily through cutting words, tears, and confusion.
But now our time at the Promise House is coming to an end. We’re doing our best to follow Jesus, and we’re leaving in faith that he is leading us to full-time graduate work at Mid-America Baptist Theological Seminary in Memphis, TN. Our last day at the Promise House is August 1st. Classes start two weeks later. The job situation is still up in the air, but I have no doubt Jesus will take care of that.
We are proud to have been a part of the ministry of the Arkansas Baptist Children’s Homes.
We’re thankful for we’re we have been. We’re excited for where we are heading.
There will be more details soon . . .
. . . and thunder too. I’m not exactly sure why, but storms always awaken something in me. An excitement or anticipation. The feeling that somethin’ is a’ brewin’.
I feel hopeful right now as I sit in the dark of my kitchen with my 18-month-old snoozing a few feet away and the thunder and lightening showing off outside.
I feel hopeful that I can do something today that will change lives and make Jesus smile. I feel hopeful that I am not alone in this and that I can live life abundantly!
Things have gotten kind of tough. It’s just hard to live with a houseful of pregnant teens day in and day out and not get totally exhausted and burnt out. This is really the hardest thing we’ve ever done. And, truthfully, we’ve wanted to give up at times. We’ve wanted to call it quits and go get a ‘normal’ life. I could go find a 9 to 5 job. We could buy a house. We could have some more kids. Amanda could be a stay at home mom. Not that there is anything wrong with that . . . but, Jesus hasn’t given it to us. That’s not what he wants for us right now.
I can do all thing through Christ. I never practically understood that sentence from the scriptures until I became a housedad. For the first time in my life I must remind myself and choose to believe on a fairly regular basis that I can be a housedad through Christ.
What are you doing through Christ?
Want to do something amazing? Go here. You’re just a few clicks away from making Jesus smile. No, really. Helping lift kids out of poverty is probably in the top 5 of Jesus’ “What I Want My Followers To Do Today” list. Heck! Maybe top 3! Compassion International is the bridge between you and those kids. It’s a great organization. I know first hand. I’ve visited 2 Compassion projects in Lima, Peru multiple times. We sponsor a little girl in Lima and have seen with our own eyes the incredible impact $32 dollars a month has had on her and her family. Need more reasons? Here are a few:
- You will fall in love.
- You will change a child’s life forever.
- Tax deduction.
- The thrill of sacrifice.
- You’ll be obeying the two most important commands. (Mk. 12:29)
- You will make a new friend (I have a notebook full of letters our compassion kids have sent us).
- You will learn about a new culture.
- You will teach your kids (or roommate or whoever) to love God by loving people.
- One less kid will go to bed hungry tonite.
And if that’s not enough, maybe a picture of our beautiful girl in Lima will do the trick . . . Actually, I’m just a proud sponsor who wants to show off his kid.
Do you sponsor a kid?
Here is a list of things that I believed at one time or another about God and myself. Some are of more consequence than others.
What about you? Share some of your busted myths in the comments.
- God isn’t cool with having fun.
- God expects me to get dressed up for church.
- Knowledge of the Bible equals a relationship with God.
- I should say ‘bless you’ after someone sneezes because ‘That’s what Jesus would do.’
- I can be good enough.
- If I don’t capitalize the word ‘God’ I will be smote.
- If I don’t read the Bible and pray everyday, God gets mad.
- I have to earn God’s acceptance and love.
I feel like a jumbled mass of motives and wants and intentions all pulling me in a different direction. My life feels messy. I guess that’s probably just how life is. Just like a big bowl of spaghetti.
Sometimes I think following God equals being in solitude, saying prayers, and thinking only of ‘heavenly things‘. But, that’s not it at all. Not by a long shot. God is so much more organic and creative and messy than that. Far from the monastery I am. Instead of solitude I live in a house full of voices and feelings and emotions. Instead of ‘heavenly things’ I am obliged to think about dirty diapers, hurting teenagers, and hot dogs on the grill. Instead of long, deep-voiced prayers my conversation with God usually amounts too “Help me God!”.
My life is messy. Yet, through all these things I am with God and he is with me. He is speaking to me. He is teaching me. He is shaping me. All of that happens by means of the things he has me doing everyday . . . not in spite of them.
It has almost been a year since I wrote this post (I love that picture of Amanda). We were very excited as we prepared for the next phase of our lives. That was almost a year ago and I would have to confess that the excitement is gone. Like the time I got a gameboy for Christmas. I thought I would be happy for the rest of my life. I thought Tetris would, from then on, be my life. But, the newness wore off, the excitement left, Tetris got boring.
That initial excitement of being at the Promise House is no longer there, but it has been replaced with a deep-connected joy. Not the kind of joy that keeps a goofy grin on our faces 24/7. It’s the kind of joy that gives us the strength to stick it out over the long haul and take part in everything bright and beautiful God is doing.
We know that this is where God wants us right now. That could change, and we’ll follow. But, for now, God wants us laboring for him here. There is peace in knowing that. And it helps us through the times we feel discontent about our current situation.
Our compassionate efforts toward justice guarantee a deepened faith and prayer life. They will lead us to disciplines of the spirit and of the heart. By engaging with suffering, we learn true joy. By touching despair, we discover what it means to embrace hope. By coming to know Christ crucified, we participate in his resurrection. By pouring ourselves out, we gain our lives.- Joyce Hollyday
En Pos de lo Supremo, Octubre 27
The challenge that faces a follower of Jesus is not the difficulty of getting wayward or indifferent people to turn around and start going in the right direction. The challenge is our own relationship with Jesus.
The right questions are these:
Do I know my resurrected Lord?
Do I know the power of his Spirit living in me?
Do I put enough faith in Jesus and what he said that my actions are seen as imprudent by the world?
Or am I abandoning the humble position of unlimited faith in my Jesus (that which is really my only call as his follower)?
People often ask me what it is that I do at the Promise House. Apparently, the term ‘housedad’ isn’t as self-explanatory as I would like to assume. I guess that is understandable because, truthfully, I usually have a difficult time fleshing it out myself. After a few seconds of half sentences I usually resort to “Well, I guess I am basically a dad.” And, in reality, that is the best way to put it: I am a dad.
Granted, I am not your typical, briefcase-carrying, off-to-work-every-morning, coffee-sipping, golf-playing dad (though, I do consider myself somewhat of a coffee connoisseur). I am no Mike Brady, not by a long shot. How many dads that you know have 9 pregnant teenage daughters?
But, nonetheless, I am a dad. And for the duration of each girl’s pregnancy at the Promise House, I am her dad. I make sure she gets up on time in the morning. I worry about her eating a good breakfast. I take her to school. I help her with her homework. I kill the occasional spider. I discipline, reward, confront, and encourage. I tell her goodnight. I am a dad.
And, whether they like it or not, the girls begins to depend on me. They look to me to be a constant in their life, and for a lot of the girls that come into our care, I am the most constant male figure they have ever had. Also, they begin to come to me for advice and counsel. One of the most meaningful things for me is being able to help them understand God’s love and plan for their lives, like the time Samera asked me how she could really know God.
All of the girls climbed into the van to ride to school, but two of them were just going along for the ride. They would not be attending school that day. One had not yet been enrolled and the other, Samera, had a doctor’s appointment. Samera was only a few weeks away from her due date and I had noticed that her countenance had changed.
Frankly, she had a lot to think about. Her mom was in jail and she barely knew her father. She had no real family to speak of. Samera wanted to look to the father of her unborn daughter for stability and a future, but the rumor was he already had another child on the way with someone else. That is a pretty bleak outlook for a seventeen-year-old who is just weeks away from having a baby.
“Mr. Ryan, how do I know that I know.” Samera asked as we drove back to the Promise House. A pretty vague question by any standard, but I knew what she meant. “How do you know that you know God?” I asked. “Yeah” she said. I hit the left turn signal. “We better stop for a donut.”
I knew this was an important conversation. Sarah had no one. So, when she asked me “How do I know that I know?” I knew that in her heart of hearts she was asking “How do I know God won’t leave me too?”
As we talked over sprinkled chocolate glazed donuts I started wondering, “How does someone who has never really been loved learn to be loved by God? What is my role, as her dad, in helping her to accept God’s love?” It seemed like a big job, too big for me at least. I was trained in CPR, First Aid, AED, Conflict Management, and Crisis Intervention, but how could I help this young lady understand that Jesus loves her for who she is? How could I show her that love doesn’t mean exploitation, degradation, and eventual abandonment? I never received training for that.
And then it hit me. “If I don’t help her to understand just how precious she is to Jesus, no one else will.” There was no one else. I was her dad. Apparently, it was God’s intention that I help her to understand. And there we sat, in a donut shop, talking about a personal relationship with God. I am sorry to say that I did nott have any profoundly eloquent statements to bring it all together for her. I simply told her about the unconditional, eternal love God had for her through Jesus. But, as I look back on it, I realize now that what I said to her did not speak half as loudly as the way in which I lived towards her.
I am a dad. And, the truth is, I have countless opportunities everyday to help my ‘daughters’ understand how God feels about them. And, I have realized that the only way for me to effectively demonstrate God’s love to them is to truly allow myself to be loved by him. Imagine that. To love, I have to let myself be loved. When I live a life that is fully submitted to Jesus, amazing things happen in my life and in the lives of those I come into contact with.
Jesus said he came for the humble, sick, and outcast. He came for the ‘least of these.’ Jesus put us right in the middle of ‘the least of these’ at the Promise House and told us to serve them.
It was sad leaving Peru, but one thing we felt good about was the family that was going to be picking up where we left off. The Austin family is doing a great job. They really are an example of obedience and faith. They’ve left everything the know, sold their house and cars, and pulled their kids out of school to relocate to Lima, Peru until Jesus says go somewhere else.
The song Hands n Feet by Audio Adrenaline played a big part in understanding what God was asking them to do. Recently Arnold Austin posted this video of either his dad or his wife’s dad signing the song.
This video absolutely knocks my socks off because grandparents aren’t supposed to be that excited when their grandkids get moved to another continent. This guy, to me, is an inspiration. You know he’s got to miss his family and grandkids like crazy. But here he is taking full part in the call of his kids to be missionaries.
Also, I think it’s awesome how the guy rocks this song. Older folks aren’t supposed to like music like this!!
It’s been a while since I’ve felt like just sitting down and putting something up on the blog. Lots of stuff is happening. Good stuff. Jesus is working in the Promise House. He’s bringing beauty out of the ashes. We get to be a part of it everyday.
Our youngest resident is due in three days. She’ll be staying with us at the Promise House for a few months.
Sophia is growing like a weed. She’s cutting her top teeth now.
We’re gearing up for summer. Thankfully we surrounded by amazing folks who want to be a part of the girls’ lives. Folks like Nitzia David, Linda Bass, Denise Seal, and of course the sewing ladies.
I was talking with one of the girls about her faith. She puts her faith in Jesus and is learning how to walk with him. I asked her if she thinks some of the other girls were being influenced by her. “They don’t say anything. But I think they are paying attention.” I told her I agreed.
I’m not going to lie . . . this job is hard!! We are definitely in over our heads . . . but it’s all good. I say it’s all good because we know this is where Jesus has put us. There is no doubt in our minds that Jesus led us to this job and wants us to be here. So, we know that he’ll give us all we need to do what we’re suppossed to do . . . and be what we’re supposed to be.
A couple girls got in a fight a few days ago. I had to physically get between and break it up. One of the girls had to leave the house for good. I felt bad. Like we had failed her. At the same time, I felt relieved because she had given us trouble from day one.
God is big. We can’t fix everything. But we can be obedient. We can dedicate our lives to him. We can give him everything we are and live our lives for him alone. That’s what we’ll do. At this point we don’t have much of a choice.
We we’re talking to a caseworker of the one of the girls. She told us that she was a believer. Amanda said “So, you can’t do your job without Jesus either!” . . . . the caseworker told her there was no way without Him. He’s our strength.
We can do all things through Him who gives us strength (and called us to do it).
We’re not going into the Promise House blindly. We understand that this job is going to be very very difficult. There is nothing messier in life than relationships with people . . . and we’re about to jump into some pretty complicated lives.
But . . . we’re excited!! Amanda and I both have a strange desire to be mixed up in people’s lives. And truthfully we want to be mixed up in complicated lives. We want to share life with people who are confused about who they are and who God is. We want to be mixed up in lives like that because God has given us a love for folks like that. And we truly believe that Jesus can use us to draw them closer to him.
I have this really cool photo of Amanda. She is holding a little boy named David. He was an orphan in Mexico that we met about 5 or 6 years ago. This kid was begging for someone to let him be a part of their family. And truthfully, Amanda and I would probably take him in right now if we could. I know, I know . . . that’s not practical! There are all kinds of reasons not to get involved with people like that: they might be emotionally unstable, they’ll cause problems, they cost money, they take time, they might be dangerous, they might not love you back . . . and the list goes on.
I guess to us, it doesn’t matter. Jesus said love the least of ‘em. And, for us, that means getting involved . . . getting into the nitty gritty of relationship.
That’s why we’re excited.
About 7 years ago Compassion International came to Ouachita Baptist University where my wife (then girlfriend) and I were studying to share about their ministry and give students the chance to partner with them by sponsoring a little boy or girl. Amanda and I decided to sponsor a child together. There were four or five tables set up with hundreds of pictures of children. We picked a little girl from Peru.
Would you believe it, three years later, we moved to Lima, Peru to serve as missionaries just minutes from where she lived and the Compassion project! We were able to visit the her at the project and her home on a regular basis for about two years. We saw first hand what an incredible impact our 32$ a month had on her life and the lives of her family members.
We literally have been able to watch Betzabeth grow from a shy, scared little 4-year-old to an outgoing, healthy, loving young lady.
We definitely believe in this ministry. We’ve seen it’s fruits firsthand. If you’d like to know more about Compassion International visit www.ci.org.
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