slow down, Mrs. Missionary

As a missionary wife, on the field, we are tempted and sometimes pressured to participate in every ministry possible.  Working in the church has many, many opportunities for service.  Children's Sunday School and clubs, ladies meetings and Bible studies, choir, etc.  Each is wonderful and good, but let us not overlook our own personal ministry.

The little ones that God gave you are gathered around your legs now but sooner than you think they will be gone.  Off to their own adventures.  There will always be many ministry opportunities in the church, but you only have one family.

Deuteronomy 6:7 "And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou list down, and when thou risest up."

Don't be so busy and tired with helping others that you do not sit, laugh, joke, and play with your children.  The most important lessons of their life can be learned and should be learned at your knee.
 

Missionary Heart

Copied from Living Out a Missionary Heart

Like soldiers on assignment before they leave for a mission, missionaries often leave a letter to a loved one at home.  It is a farewell letter that’s only supposed to be read in the event of the missionary’s death abroad.

Karen Watson left for service in Iraq in March 2003. She had left her job as a jail officer and sold all her possessions to work on humanitarian projects with our International Mission Board in northern Iraq.  A year and a week later,anonymous gunmen wielding AK-47’s opened fire on her team’s car while they were surveying sites (perhaps for water purification projects) near Mosul.  Karen and three others were killed.

Within a few days, Karen’s pastor at Valley View Baptist Church in Bakersfield, CA received this letter, and then shared it with his congregation.   Read this slowly.

Dear Pastor,

You should only be opening this in the event of my death.

When God calls there are no regrets. I tried to share my heart with you as much as possible, my heart for the nations.

I wasn’t called to a place; I was called to Him.

To obey was my objective, to suffer was expected, His glory my reward, His glory my reward ….

THE MISSIONARY HEART

     Cares more than some think is wise

     Risks more than some think is safe

     Dreams more than some think is practical

     Expects more than some think is possible

I was called not to comfort or to success but to obedience ….

There is no Joy outside of knowing Jesus and serving Him.

I love you and my church family.

In His care,

Salaam, Karen

I read this on missionary blog

She also posted a touching video playing "Bury My Heart".  This amazing song was written by a teacher at  Oklahoma Baptist College, where my husband and I graduated from.

Walking amidst the Angels

guns shots in the night

we gather the kids

turn off the lights

sit on the floor in the dark

no bigg-ee

not really routine... but not the first time

accepted as part of life here

watching your back

using your head

When I was a young girl,  God was very real to me.  Anytime I was {really} scared, especially at night, I would pray so earnestly for God's protection.  I would sincerely ask Him to send angels to protect me.  I prayed specifically.  I asked for an angel to stand at all the corners of my house.  If I was really, really scared I asked for my own angel in the room with me.  I was young, and in my child-like faith I could feel the angels after my prayers.  Don't think I'm all {who-ooo-oo.....raised eyebrows}.  I'm talking about the peace that God gives that He's protecting you.  I could feel the peace settle around me and feel God's protection.

I believe with the same faith I believe in salvation that angels are real.

"For it is written, He shall give his angels charge over thee, 

to keep thee." Luke 4:10 

"For He shall give His angels charge over thee, 

to keep thee in all thy ways."  Psalms 91:11 

"The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them 

that fear him, and delivereth them" Psalms 34:7

Now as I big girl, I believe in angels still the same.  Many times when a noise wakes me in the night, I pray for God's protection before I fall back asleep.  I ask Him for angels to protect our family.

He hears, I know.

Danger is all around us here.  There are many stories that would "knock your socks off".

Many times, as we leave the yard of our house, I ask for God to send angels to protect our home while we are gone.  The peace I had as a little girl is still real  today.  Thieves here are very prevalent and aren't picky, they'll break into your home whether you're there or not.

Once I was thinking about the angels standing around my house and in awe that my Great Big Power God listens to insignificant me.  It was overwhelming.  As we returned home, and I was unlocking the iron bars to open the house door, I wondered, "Are there angels standing around me?"  Are they standing here protecting me?  Am I walking amidst the angels?  I believe so.
  
(photo taken last week as we drove over the mountains to Kingston)

One of my sisters took this picture of our dad's 

army boots surrounded by high heels.  

Poor dad {wink} surrounded by four very girly daughters.

Please take a minute today and say a prayer for an army wife you know.  

America is still at war, it affects us all.  We all know someone or are related to someone serving our Country.  I'm so very thankful for the sacrifices made to keep America free.

Just today we heard about a guy we went to college with, stationed in Afghan country his humvee was hit by an explosive.  His back was broken and he has a concussion.  He is being taken to Germany.  

Please pray for Brandon.

Please pray for his wife back home.

Please pray for his mom and dad and sisters.

Please pray for our soldiers and their families.

Please pray.

 

The Cleansing Wave

The Cleansing Wave 

Hymn by Phoebe Palmer 1871

1) Oh! now I see the crimson wave. The fountain deep and wide;

Jesus, my Lord, mighty to save, Points to His wounded side.

Refrain: The cleansing stream, I see, I see! 

I plunge, and oh, it cleanseth me!

Oh! praise the Lord, it cleanseth me. It cleanseth me, yes, cleanseth me.

2) I see the new creation rise, I hear the speaking blood;

It speaks! polluted nature dies! Sink 'neath the cleansing flood.

refrain

3)I rise to walk in heav'n's own light Above the world and sin.

With heart made pure, and garments white, And Christ enthroned within.

refrain

(picture taken outside Port Maria, Jamaica)

There's just something {tingly-in-your-tummy} exciting how an old hymn can speak words so clearly applicable to your life today.  Isn't that amazing?

Mama's Been There, Too

Most days of my life are..... just fast.  A quick blur of smiles and sloppy messes on the floors.  Children's laughter and laundry on the line.  Food to cook, faces to wash, etc....etc.

I love it...honestly.  If I could tap my kids with a magic wand and make them stay this age {with me} forever...I might consider it.  We live a happy full life.  God is good.

The water dam broke today.  The storm clouds have been gathering for a few days.  The swelling river flows rushing forward and over it's boundaries.    Unstoppable.

Every few months....so it seems, my heart gets heavy.  Really heavy, like I can't breath.  My prayers seem hollow.  I feel alone....in a country that no one really cares if I'm here or not.  I wonder why I have to make all these sacrifices.  It feels like I'm the only one.

Something happened, while we were out today, that finally brought the tears.

{whispered} I even have those {very} dark {very,very} rare moments when I.......resent this calling.

 I can't believe I said that out loud.  I feel kinda scared admitting it.  I know God's ways are always perfect and just.  But, in those low valley days I wonder....
Why me?  I know a lot of others who would be way better missionary wives?  Why here?  Souls need to know about Jesus in my hometown too.

I want to rock my new born nieces and nephews.  I want to sit on the window seat and watch birds with my Grandma.  I want to drink coffee in the morning with my dad.   I want to watch the stars on a deserted county road....in safety.

This isn't one of those posts where I tell about my dark side and the great miracle that happened inside me to make me full of sunshine and lollipops again.

to post?....not to post?.....back and forth... {tapping fingernails on the desk...}

I'm not writing this so I'll get some, "poor little missionary wife" comments.

No, sirree.

I'm writing this so when my daughters grow up to be beautiful Christian ladies and follow God's path for them, if they come to Mama and say, "I feel so alone."  I can look them in their face and honestly say, "I know what you mean, baby.  Mama's been there before too."

Losing your First Love?

During my quiet time this morning I was looking back through sermon notes I've gathered.  These are taken while at our home church in Baton Rouge.  Pastor Buchanan preached a sermon titled How Do You Lose Your First Love? and it spoke to me this morning.  I wanted to share some of his notes mingled with my humble thoughts.

How Do You Lose Your First Love?
Psalms 71:18, Revelation 2:2-6, Romans 8:16
1. Do you lose your first love because you're not working for God?   No
2. Do you lose your first love because you're not reading your Bible? No
3. Do you lose your first love because you're not praying? No
4. Do you lose your first love because you're not witnessing? No

These things are a product of losing it, but not the root.  The love of our "First Love" is lost when we lose our daily awareness of our need!

Maria-ology: Picture the children of Israel.  A mighty Sea billowing before them... the army of Egyptians fill the skyline with their glimmering swords.  A miracle working God opened the Sea for them to walk upon dry land.  Yet, they forgot Him when they forgot their need.

How is your love for the Lord today?  Nothing is, ever was, or ever will be as sweet as His love.

I  need Thee every hour,

(pictures are the sunflowers in my garden.)  Anyone have tips for drying sunflower seeds?

Goodbye, World

Love You, Lord.
 

Alexis's Pet Seahorse

Yes, it's real!

If you asked me if my kids are "missing out" on anything 

because they don't live in America, I would answer, "nope."

I understand their experiences and lifestyle is different 

then American kids, 

but they are having a great childhood.   

How many kids do you know with a pet seahorse?

Princess Alexis is my horse lover.  

She has loved horses since she was very tiny.

She wants to grow up and own a horse ranch.  

Alexis knows what colors of horses she wants 

and even the names of some.

She plans on buying a horse for all the people in her family 

and taking care of them for us. {so sweet}

I've explained to her thousands of times why we can't have a horse.

Lately I've resorted to telling her, {over and over}

"Stop asking mommy for one and start praying for one."

If you think that God doesn't hear little princess's prayers... 

just ask my kids.

Memaw was watching the princesses for us the other day 

and Prince and I went down the hill to go to the beach.

I was sitting on the sand 

as Josh snorkled around looking for some fish for our tank.

He was a ways off, around a long dock, 

and I noticed when he came up, 

a group of people came over to see what he had.

He motioned for me to come over and see.  

He has been talking about eels {shudder....shuddder....shuddddder}

so I hollered at him as I waded over 

"it had better not be an eel in the net!"

I was shocked to see a little seahorse!

So amazing.

He (or she) likes to wrap it's little tail around things 

and it really enjoys this sunken ship.

God is so good,

pray for your missionary wives

Laying here in bed...alone.

On the couch, two year old Princess Eden is softly snoring as she clutches her baby doll.
In the next room, Princesses Moriah and Alexis are snuggled together as Princess Brynlee dreams peacefully in the crib.  Peaceful sleep....it is a gift from God.  Never take it for granted.

Half of my bed is cold tonight.  There is no Prince for me to share my warmth with.  My handsome Prince is in a land far away.

Prince had to return to Jamaica ahead of us to work in the church.  We will be joining him as soon as Brynlee's passport comes in and we have it stamped at the Jamaican consulate.

Danger in Jamaica is not something I like to talk about or even share with others.  Usually in my writings I like to crack a few jokes and bring a few smiles.  I love the feeling of posting something that makes you hug your husband and children closer and treasure your time with them.  Tonight my mind is very serious.  Do you know how many times people have teased us about being "on vacation" when they find out we live in Jamaica?  That joke was cute until my first survey trip.  You want me be straight forward and blunt?  Jamaica (like many other mission fields) is a land full of stealing, murder, rape, and cheating, all cloaked in a luxurious robe of carefree summer breezes. 

Do you want to know how many times my husband has been "propositioned" since we moved to Jamaica?  No, it's worse then that!  How many times women have tried to seduce him in the last few days?  It would shake you!  
               Pray for missionary husbands!

Do you know how many times I've had mostly men (but women also) ask me to give them my daughters?  Does your child know what it's like to have the threat of kidnapping hang above them?  Have you ever explained an escape route and routines with them in the case of someone breaking into their home?
              Pray for missionary kids!

Do you ever think about how it feels for a missionary wife?  A lady living in a different culture having men ask her things that would make my computer screen blush?  (Lord, help me use the right words to make them understand.) 

A missionary wife hears a sound at night and wonders if someone's sawing the bars off a window.
A missionary wife sends her husband off with a kiss then wonders if he'll be safe on the roads today.
A missionary wife leaves her home and wonders if someone will break in and go through her belongings while she is gone.
A missionary wife, like a mother hen, constantly keeps her chicks close while scanning the yard for possible threats.
A missionary wife falls to her knees begging God to protect her family.
A missionary wife knows God.

Please don't joke about me being on vacation.  One of these days I might blow my top and spout off, "I'd like to see you try it."  {smile}  Unless it's a supporting pastor, in that case I'll settle to talking to you about it.

Missionary wives are tough as nails.  With a backbone of steel and shoulders that carry way more than her share.  Our job is not for the faint of heart.  We humbly and thankfully take our stand beside our husbands.

I'll close with saying, I love Jamaica.  I love the people and I love the culture.  This post is in no way meant to talk bad about the beautiful people there.  If you asked a Jamaican they would tell you just what I said...probably more. 

Pray for your missionaries, one of them might be my friend.

I'll Give Myself

(Tune: Amazing Grace)

Amazing grace, how sweet  the sound,

To those who know the Lord

But what of those who still are bound

And do not have His Word?

The many dangers, toils, and snares,

Through which we daily go,

Are nothing to compare, Oh Lord,

With what the heathen know.

Ten thousand years to sing His praise

Bright shining as the sun,

While lost men suffer endless days,

Their torment never done.

Since grace has meant so much to me,

My zeal must never dim.

I'll give myself, Oh Lord, to Thee,

To take Thy grace to them.

I tore this out of a song booklet, from a missions conference we were in, on deputation.  The song was convicting a few years ago and when I stumbled on it today I wanted to share.  I have no clue who wrote it, but I'm thankful.

Stardust on My Pillow

October 24, 2010

Every once in awhile I write a post that gives a glimmer to deep inside me.  This is one of those times.  I’m not even sure I’ll post it.

As a teenage girl I would dream about life “on the mission field” and exactly how it “would be”.  Life would always be perfect and storylike.  Always easy, smooth, and beautiful.  

I had stars in my eyes going into my story.

I’ve been reflecting back on the year I lived in Jamaica, with Prince and the girls.  Life is not always like we planned.  

There was a lot of adjusting.

There was a lot of getting rid of selfish desires.

There was a lot of {stuff}.

There were even some nights, late when no one could see or hear.  Times when I poured my heart out to my blessed Lord.  Those nights I left a lot of star dust on my pillow.  I’m so thankful that my Redeemer liveth and listens to my every thought and prayer.  

I’m not regretful that I live on the missionfield.  I’m not regretful that it is Jamaica.  I’m very grateful and thankful for the life that I share with my husband and daughters.  

Just recently I was talking to one of my brother-in-laws.  We were discussing Jamaica and the different culture.  As we were talking it hit me, life isn’t always smooth and easy.  Life isn’t always the way I plan it out. 

BUT!!!.....on the missionfield God becomes more real.  When you literally have to pray for the food you eat, and when you wake up each morning knowing that He literally protected you through the night, God is more then just a bedtime prayer and a Sunday School story.

I know there are times, when I’ve prayed with my princesses, for God to give us running water today, or “Please, turn the electricity back on.”  And shortly after we pray, God answers.  What is a richer reward then having my daughter look into my eyes and say, “God heard us, mom.”

So, as I went from a missionary with stars in her eyes to what I am today, {I believe with all my heart} all the star dust I left on my pillow was worth it.  There will probably be more tears over the years, but I’m raising my daughters to know we serve a real and living God.  What more could a mother ask for?  

 

You Betta Get Right Wi' God

The beautiful sunset taken from my roof two nights ago.  These pictures are completely untouched or enhanced...and believe me they don't do the breathtaking view any justice!  Loving my Jamaica.

"You betta get right wi' God

Come an' do it now

Under de cross of Jesus, I'll lay my burden down

You betta get right wi' God

Come an' do it now

Get right, get right, get right with God."

This is one of our beautiful prayer choruses.

 

Live simply.....Live well {period}

"You really have nothing.”  Mom said as we were cleaning house, then we laughed.

 Mom said this in a conversation that we were having one day while she was visiting. She was talking about how easy it is to clean up and organize a home when there's no clutter. Mom meant it in the best possible way and I was not hurt or insulted at all. It did put a thought in my head that I pushed back to "chew on" later.

I was a little surprised at her words. I'm very happy and content with the things I have.   {I smile}... if she thinks that now, Mom should have seen the place 9 months ago! When we first moved here, we didn't have fans, pillows, mattresses, or any furniture. Now, I kinda "forgot" to pay attention to the things I'm doing without. PLEASE....don't think I'm Mrs. Perfect, I don't want to come across in that way! I'm not meaning that at all. I still have days where I dream about driving MYSELF to go shopping in real stores and drool over my daydreams of American restaurants....and I'd so love to visit a Hobby Lobby for a few days! {40% off coupon, baby!!!}

One thing that always caught my attention in women missionary stories is how little they did without. Please don't think I'm comparing myself to them!!! I'm completely aware that I have sooooo much more then they ever dreamed of having!

Before moving to Jamaica last year, I had a HUGE yard sale. I sold mostly everything that wasn't a priority and that couldn't fit in the 7 barrels we shipped to the Island. The princesses and I said good bye to a lot of extra clothes, toys, furniture, household, and a {literal!} ton of misc. I was really, really nervous about selling MY belongings. I was afraid that I would be

weepy

("poor me, I have to sell my treasures"),

sentimental

("But that was her first doll" "My favorite baby dress"... etc),

short-tempered

("drop dead, lady, there's no way I'll let you take those curtains for $2, I paid $45 for them!!! I'm only selling because...")

even jealous

("that suit looked good on me, she'll never look that nice in it.")

See what I mean? The wicked sinner in me can be so....{I can't even think of a word to describe it.}

A whole mixture of emotions flooded through my mind.

But it wasn't like that at all. When the day came to set up tables and sell, the "peace that passeth all understanding" filled me. God is so amazing. My great friend, Christina, came and helped for two days and I didn't cry or lose my "cool" once. It was a refreshing, cleansing feeling and the turning of the pages to the next chapter of my life, as a missionary.

You know what God taught me then {and I still am learning truths for}?

Please don't miss this, it is so precious to me.

When it really comes down to where you have to choose among your possessions there is a careful sorting of priorities. If life is simple, the simple things held onto must be of lasting value.

Life's clutter was gone and only the things of true value and worth were left...to be cherished. This could apply to material things, friends, personal attitudes or spiritual.

(my main treasure....my wonderful husband.  I’m so blessed.)

There is a little wooden sign {from Hobby Lobby} that hangs in my guest room. It reads, "Live simply...Live well". God is so good to me.

"Did my Son have air-conditioning?"

Our internet was down for a few days. Could be bad for some....a hidden blessing for me. Do you ever have those moments where you have to bite you tongue to keep from doing or saying some life-altering comment? Does anyone else out there have those split-second mental break downs....where life can go from roses and lollipops to spiders and sour apples? I'm blaming it on pregnancy hormones. Personally I don't think I'm an emotional person, Prince would comment otherwise, but maybe he'll skip this post. {wink...wink}

The last few days have been filled with the uplifting wonderful moments spent with my mom, the trips to the beach with my family, the flutters in my tummy of my growing miracle. These are the happy {cotton candy} moments. I've missed mom so much and am trying to enjoy and treasure each minute we have together.

Then....the temperature in the house {literally!} reaches 98 degrees...the laundry pile threatens to overtake the hallway...the water goes off...some princess touched another princess's something-or-other... or Prince answers me in an short tone of voice. (Sometimes my ears have "emotional-hormone-time" too and they mix with my extremely sensitive emotions.) These are definitely ugly {storm cloud} moments. Hopefully I'm not the only woman out there suffering from these. They never last me long...Praise the Lord. Still they flash through my mind {unwanted} seeking to destroy my happily-ever-after.

Sunday, I woke up and prayed that the Lord would give me a blessing today, to help me get my mind off Me, Me, Me and my selfish desires (selfish desires mainly being a/c...I miss that so much!) I could elaborate fluently about how much I miss sleeping in a cool, comfortable room...but my "sky would cloud up" and I'd just sound like I was pouting. Totally not my intention...."Lord, forgive me."

During our song service we were singing the hymn, "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross". One of my favorite hymns. Little Glorian tottered by and reached up to me to hold her. Without going into much detail, Glorian's mom is a single mom with three little kids. Rough in the States...but even rougher in a third-world country. Her mom is a faithful lady in our church (and a good tambourine player).


The last part of the song says, "Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all".

As I sang those words, my heart was broken.

Don't you love it when there's so much going on inside you and the person sitting beside you has no clue?

I hesitate to even describe how I felt. I'm not a showy "religious" hollow person. I've always been turned off by those "Better then Sister Sue" church women.

My relationship with my Saviour is much more personal than that. He's my Father, my Saviour and my Best Friend. If anyone has any questions about how they can experience the same type of relationship with the Lord {please} feel free to email me.

I felt like God was asking me, "Did my Son have air-conditioning? Grow up, you have a job to do." Sorry if that doesn't make any sense to you, it made a world of difference in my life.

So I just hugged little Glorian's sweaty little body closer, and praised the Lord for His {to} numerous {to mention them all} blessings on my life!





P.s. I know it’s not the best picture of me...but...did I mention it was really hot here? {smile} Love to all!