Kid, you'll move mountains!

"For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'" (Galations 5:13-24 ESV)


One week ago, I was on a public bus sitting next to my roommate as we bounced along a pot hole infested road coming down off the "hill" (truly it was a mountain) where we had stayed for a week in a small, remote village with a team of college students from America.

Here's a glimpse into that crazy, adventurous, challenging week...

We started off with big smiles plastered on our faces as we hopped on the public bus at 6 am for a 10 hour bus ride into Dhobi. During that long, bumpy, smelly ride we slept, laughed, danced in our seats as we lip-synced and rested up for the long day we would have after a rough night's sleep on a rock hard "mattress."

There were moments on our 6 hour hike under the hot sun in the hills when my roommate and I weren't sure we were going to make it! Well, maybe just me. She's pretty tough. It was up and down, and up and down, and up and down. And then just up. And, man, was it brutal. I knew I was out of shape, but this really proved it!

I was given the responsibility of being Dr. Mags on this trip...and it's a good thing I was there! One of the students took a tumble down a hill and gashed open his knee. So there was a brief pit stop for some neosporin, bandaids, and the forced, slightly painful removal of small rocks and dirt. He was a trooper! And now he has a sweet scar to show off to the ladies. Our Nepali guide kept asking me if I was a doctor and was incredibly eager to watch everything I did that made me open the medical kit!

The first three days in the village we worked in the local school, which had maybe 70 students in it. My roommate, another expat, and I did the translating for the team. We taught about colors, body parts and geography. 

These boys were so sweet! They are incredibly bright, and caught on to everything we taught very quickly. I loved getting to talk with them about what we were doing and helping them with their work in class.

At the end of every day we taught the kids a silly American song. Songs like "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" and "The Hokey Pokey". The first time or two we tried the songs, they would just all stand and stare and the crazy white people wiggling around yelling words they didn't know. But then one of us would make them giggle and they were sold! Their favorite was a song called "Aroustasha" where we said made up words and did crazy body motions. Getting to translate for this part of school was by far my favorite!

One night, we caught the village ladies as they were grinding corn to fry the meat in for dinner. The other expat and I jumped in right away to "help." We soon gathered a crowd of snickering women as we valiantly attempted to grind the corn. To no avail. Apparently it's not an inherent skill for the two of us! But it did make for some good laughs and memories.

Since we only brought two outfits with us for one week, laundry was a necessity! My roommate and I found ourselves squatting down in the rain scrubbing our clothes at the public tap with a bar of soap and a metal bowl. One of the village ladies came over and asked if she should wash our clothes for us, seeing as how we clearly didn't know what we were doing. After we assured her that we were fine on our own, she suggested that standing up might be better for our weak backs. After our conversation, she stood and watched us for several minutes laughing to herself at the sight of the two of us!

What village trip isn't complete without snuggling a baby or two? This little guy, Nissan (yup, just like the car brand), belonged to one of the ladies who was in charge of our food and lodging while in the village. He's only 6 months old, but quite the chunker.

The village is situated on top of a hill (seriously, it's a mountain) so we were blessed with some of the most incredible, breath-taking views I have ever seen. Everyday was a picture and masterpiece made just for us. I loved just sitting outside our little room and looking out over the rolling hills as the clouds rolled through the village.

Saturday provided an opportunity for us to attend Nepali church in the village! The team got up and sang a few songs for the congregation. Little did they know they were being recorded for posterity sake by one of the villagers! The team leader, Chris, gave a message on spreading the gospel throughout the village. A sermon that could have very well gotten all of our visas revoked on the spot, and we would have been sent back to America. That's how you know it's good preaching. 

This was truly one of the most incredible experiences I've ever had. Exciting, frustrating, rewarding, breath taking, trying, energizing and draining at the same time, and body-aching. All for the glory of God. And all by the grace of God.

"And will you succeed? 

Yes! You will indeed!

(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed!)

Kid, you'll move mountains!

So...

be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray

or Mordecai Ali Van Alenn O'Shea

you're off to Great Places!

Today is your day!

Your mountain is waiting.

So...get on your way!"

Dr. Suess, Oh, the Places You'll Go

Something more.

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you." (1 Peter 1:3-4 ESV)


So many times this last week I longed for my "passport home." The place where I grew up. The place where my loved ones are. But every time I did, I longed to stay in my "adopted home" just as badly. The place where my kids are. The place that I have been integrated into.

And it left me in a bit of a confused place. Where exactly is my home? I'm not sure that right now I can label either America or Nepal as my "home." But there is one place I can assuredly call home...

Heaven.

Cliche. Corny. Whatever. It's true.

There has never been a time in my life where I pined for that home so much as I did this past week. A flurry of activity that sent my head spinning, feeling like I can't get my feet steadily under me. I wanted the simplicity of sitting at the feet of my Savior. Spending all my time praising him, without another care.

Everyone has their "heaven is like this" list. You know, cheap Starbucks and air conditioning, or comfy couches and grandma's home cooked dinner. At least that's what my list looked like.

And then I came here. And my list changed. Things like water pressure and paved roads topped the list. Closely followed by constant electricity and organized traffic with a few less honking horns. I have to admit, Starbucks stayed on the list.

But this last week it began to change yet again. I wanted to be in the REAL heaven. Not my silly, made-up, convenience-driven heaven.

I wanted something more.

I wanted a place where the pearly gates will be a one-stop immigration office, instead of the weeks it takes for the visa process here. I wanted a place where it doesn't matter if you like the worship song your singing, your heart is so set on Jesus that you can't hold in your love for him. I wanted a place where my kids don't have to feel the hurt and betrayal of being left behind or discarded by loved ones.

I wanted the real deal. I still do.

And while I can't wait to be there, to see my Jesus and to spend eternity in the place he has prepared for me, I know that I'm meant to be here for a little while longer. Here in my adopted home loving on my kids, and eventually back in my passport home loving on those near and dear to my heart.

My prayer, however, is that I never lose the longing for my real home. That I always desire to be there. And that in the in-between, hair-pulling-out, nail-biting, tear-shedding life I have left to live, God would give me more opportunities to serve him, to love him, and to shine his light in this dark world.

Ripe for the asking.

"In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us in all wisdom and insight." (Ephesians 1:7-8 ESV)


This week at girls club, we tackled a topic that was near to my girls' hearts.

Forgiveness.

Something that many of them have been told to do over and over, but not something that they necessarily understood. Or even wanted to do.

I told them the story of Hephzibah. The wife of King Hezekiah. An idolater.

King Hezekiah made reforms in Judah that drew his people back to God, after his father had driven them as far the opposite direction as he could. And his reforms were applicable to his wife as well. Hephzibah came from a pagan family, and she worshiped idols like Baal and Asherah.

The King told her that she could no longer worship her idols. She could only worship the Living God. Hephzibah quickly agreed, eager to please her husband.

But she lied.

After King Hezekiah found out, he divorced her and sent her away. He didn't want a pagan queen setting that example for his nation.

Many years later, the prophet Isaiah set Hezekiah straight in his thinking. Who was he to hold back forgiveness? Wasn't the King just as much an idolater as Hephzibah? Didn't he sign a treaty with Egypt and Babylon because they fattened his ego?

The King's heart was so convicted that he went back and asked Hephzibah's forgiveness. And because of that act, Hephzibah was shown the love of God. She renounced her idols, became a believer, and was remarried to King Hezekiah.

How often do we act in the same manner as the king? How quickly do we point the finger at something else, and hold a grudge against them, but fail to see our own retched hearts? How earnestly do we want to be forgiven for our sins, yet can't seem to extend that grace to someone who has wronged us?

It's part of this condition we all have called sin.

But God commands us to forgive one another. Not just when we feel like it, but all the time. Even when we don't want to. Even when it's hard. Even when it seems impossible.

My girls have a lot of people to forgive. And a lot of things to be forgiven for. We all do.

I explained to them that God is ready and waiting for us to come to him humbly, and to ask forgiveness. He isn't stingy, and won't hold out on us. He will give us the grace and freedom that we don't deserve if we just ask. Because Jesus died on the cross, we are given unconditional forgiveness and love.

We just have to ask.

So that's what we did. Maybe a bit unconventionally, but we did.

I drew a large cross on a poster board. Then I tore up paper into small pieces and scattered it around the room. I told my girls to pick up several pieces of paper and a pen.

I told them to write one of two things on the paper. Either someone they need to forgive for hurting them, or something that they have done that they need to be forgiven for.

They were a little timid at first. One of my girls, Premshila, told me that she thought it would be too hard to forgive those who had hurt her. She was afraid she couldn't do it. I told her that the cool thing is that we can't do it. Not on our own. We need God's help to forgive others.

I told them that once they put a name or a sin on the cross, it was forgiven. God knows their hearts, and he knows their need to forgive others and to be forgiven. Once I told them that, they all scrambled for the paper pieces to write on.

These girls are amazing. They wrote down sins like having an angry heart and being disrespectful to their teachers.

But who they forgave was more amazing.

People like mom and dad, who either abandoned them, gave them up, or passed away. Aunts and uncles who may have done the same things, or who may have hurt them in other ways. Friends who had lied to them and teased them.

I so badly want to be like these girls. Who forgive easily, even when it's hard. And who feel the weight lifted off their shoulders once they have.

Forgiveness is waiting for us in the arms of Christ. We just have to run to him and ask for it.