The Love of a Father

     All day long, I've been asking God to show me something new of Him. To show up in a big way. "God, let the only thing missing in my life be more of you."
     Today, I've been reminded again of the love of my earthly father.
God's been showing me that a lot. He's reminded me of all that my own dad has done for our family.
     Pat Hicks is the closest example I have of God's love, provision, Jesus' obedience, and sacrifice. My dad desires to give me things and in the days when the Hicks Family didn't even have enough money to pay attention, my father would sacrifice his needs to fulfill the needs of his wife and kids, to fulfill our wants, even. Oh, how I thank God for the example He has given me of that man.
     God tells me, "Alyssa, the amount your dad loves you is just a drop in the ocean of how much I love you, how much I want to give you. And you don't even realize how much that man loves you. I love you so much more."
     I've learned how to obey God by obeying my father, I've learned to trust in God to provide, because I've always had that trust in my own dad to provide. I have an idea of God's love for us because of the love my dad has for my mom.
     Oh, and my mother. She is the most Proverbs 31 woman I know, and it's an effortless task for her (it's kind of annoying) but that's the way God made her. I know what it means to be a woman because she has been nothing short of that my whole life. I have a better picture of who God is and I've learned to know Him better because of my parents and I thank God for that every day.
     So, to all of those who are new parents, got one brewing in your belly or aren't talking to your teenager, let me tell you this: I know God better because my parents know Him better. I desire to know Him better because of my parents and I've been set out into the world because they know I belong to Him and I praise God for that, for them.

Lima, Peru Day 1

Peru is beautiful. Today was our first full day here and God has already shown us so many cool things. Having the four of us, plus Courtney’s friend Sarah, has been so much fun! Sarah has been such an uplifting member of our team. She carries spiritual gifts that compliment ours well and has been the voice of reason today. I guess it comes with her being the oldest—she turns 21 in August. Yeah, that’s the oldest of us.

 

Today, we went to the market and bought food for our time here at YWAM. When we went to the meat part of the market, we had the option of buying chicken patties, chicken legs, wings, or the whole chicken. We went with the whole chicken. We have videos of Courtney cutting it up, we'll have to post later :)

And here is our Mama Cecilia showing us, with an actual knife, how to cut the chicken. She’s the wife of Big Cesar and the mom of little Cesar, who’s actually bigger. Little Cesar is the director of the YWAM base in Lima, who connected us to the base here.

And our first successful meal J

     The Australian team lands tonight. Today was our time to settle in. With our free time this afternoon, we decided to walk to the Starbucks to get some free wifi. When Starbucks became farther than we expected, we saw a McDonald’s and decided to milk them for their wifi instead. We met a German girl, her Peruvian boyfriend, and his American best friend from Wisconsin. Well, I don’t know if we met them so much as found out they understood everything we were saying the hard way.

     Anyways, I went up to use the restroom after we ordered our food and came back to find a little Peruvian girl had taken my seat. Maria had come up to our table, Sarah was the only one sitting there, and sold her some candy. When Maria asked us what we were doing in Peru, Logan and Courtney shared with her they have siblings from Peru. After many moments of broken Spanish and confusion, we explained they were adopted. Maria was ecstatic to find out we were American and she enjoyed listening to us trying to speak Spanish as she ate my fries one by one. We could tell immediately Maria didn’t come to us just to sell us candy, she wanted to know us. It was an hour before sunset, so we decided to go home, we said our goodbyes to Maria and Sarah told her, “Jesus te amo.” (Jesus loves you). Maria hugged us all and gave us the traditional kiss on the cheek as we left. She was easily the best part of our day.

My broken shell

     I've never really understood people's oppositions on the rain. Personally, I've always loved it, though I understand I'm in the minority. Most people hate it; fear it. Fear of what storms it might bring with it or what patio furniture it might damage. The world stops when it rains. American's love to act like the rain keeps them indoors, when most of them never go out and enjoy the earth anyways. I love the rain. I love the rain for many reasons. I love the way it changes the sky in just a matter of minutes. I love the rush on the streets, as people scurry to find safety inside their homes. I love the warm pavement. I love the noise it makes as it rattles its way from above all the way to the ground and the grass drinks it up. I love the smell and the moistness in the air it leaves, like its of spraying its scent on letters to beloved. I love the raindrops and the way they race each other to the ground, fighting to remain individual during the downpour. Everything about it, I love it. So, when most people are running to get out of it, I'm usually trying to find the fastest route into it. The smell is intoxicating, the sight is invigorating, but the feeling.
     That feeling of warm raindrops absorbing into your skin, making your eyesight blurry as the weight of the water causes the canopy that is your lashes collapse. Deep breath. You can't help but have a smile wrap across your face. It's like nothing I've ever felt before, so it's something I have to feel as often as possible. It is the essence of freedom, you can feel the extraction of bravery try to escape your skin in the form of goosebumps. It is liberating. Deep breath.
     I love the rain, because it's real and real almost always insinuates anxiety or awkwardness. Most people run from it instead of embrace it. But for me, the rain makes me feel whole.

     As you can tell, not even conversations about the weather is something I pass. My friend Olivia tells me I like to take light conversations ocean deep more than anyone she knows. Maybe that's true, or maybe I'm just the only who doesn't have the patience for the small talk that gets us there. Either way, I like to think things matter. I've been a person too long to believe that any one person just has one layer and that all those layers are unscathed. Even if I'm not the person they show those other layers to, that they're shown to someone and brought into the light.

     When I think about Jesus and the transfiguration (Matthew 17:2, Mark 9:2-3), I think about what I would've looked like on that mountain top if I were in Jesus' position. Jesus took His closest friends to show them a part of Him that He hadn't shown anyone before. Transfiguration is defined as, "a complete change of form or appearance into a more beautiful or spiritual state." Of course, when Jesus transfigured, it says His clothes became radiant and His face shone like the sun. 
     I try to imagine my own transfiguration. I imagine me taking my three closest friends atop a mountain and allow that bright light hit me the same way it hit Jesus. Though instead, that light wouldn't be radiating from me but from behind me.
     I would look down at my body, my arms limp like a scarecrow, staring at the light that shines through the cracks from my damaged layers. I'd look down and see the parts of me that have broken and my friends see them, too, filled with the light.
     How freeing it must be to show someone your naked soul and let them in to fill those cracks. I've formed those relationships and every encounter of that friendship feels like rain to me. All of our shells have been broken, rain is soothing, but it's never silent. If you have yet to feel that rain, through friendships or through the weather, fill those cracks with rain until they're overflowing.

The sun shines through the cracks of my silhouette

Leaving mystery to outsiders to memories I'll never forget

Those cracks become open wounds become scars that never truly heal

And as the clouds cover the sun's light

It's easier to hide my broken exterior from watching eyes

All those fake faces imprisoned in clear prisms around me

My body screams for the truth to be set free

Free

The naked soles of my feet feeling the warm pavement beneath me

In the pouring rain, I've never felt so free

Dressed only in raindrops, soaking clothes and vulnerability

My arms open wide and my face to the sky

I look up at the water that will inevitably fall on me

And wait for those droplets that allow me to blossom where I've been planted

To allow my broken shell have its cracks filled by that holy water

I'll stand in this rain long enough for these cracks to overflow

Proverbs 31 is for dudes, too.

     This semester, I've been bombarded with marriage stuff. Every sermon, bible study, and quiet time seems to have something to do with submission, but instead of speaking my not-so-gracious opinion, I figured God has something to tell me so I better listen up.
     In 6 weeks, I'll be in a foreign country with only 3 familiar faces for the next 6 weeks. From the very start of this adventure, God made it very clear to me that I was going to have little say in any big plans. I know what a lot of you are thinking, what a breeze! I've always done so well with keeping my mouth shut and my thoughts to myself. Although I do such a good job of wearing that façade, it is unbelievably hard for me to shut up and let other people do things their way. Since we decided on Peru in November, I've had to submit and trust these girls that what God told them was the right thing. Any time I came to God with concerns, it was almost as if He had His receptionist forward me to Logan, Samantha or Courtney.
     I have the hugest struggle with submission and I always figured it was God's way of telling me I'm just not cut out for marriage. That was just who I was and God was going to work around my imperfections to sanctify me in other ways. This is such faulty theology, because God doesn't desire what I've settled for, He wants what is absolutely best for me and that's not staying cynically cold-hearted about everything, that's refining me by His fire and perfecting me through His grace and love.
     While learning how to submit to The Lord and preparing myself for future submission, of course Proverbs 31 has crossed my path. I used to hate Proverbs 31, make fun of it even. Who cares what kind of woman I'm supposed to be, it's too mainstream anyways and I don't want to live the Christian version of Stepford Wives and just be like every other submissive woman. Guys, I'm not kidding when I say God saved me from my cynical, cold-heart; I was a real jerk, still kind of am, just ask anyone who really likes me.
     Anyways, the more that I read Proverbs 31, the more I realize that this isn't the woman God's calling me to be in the future, it's the like of what God has set aside for me right now.
     For women, Proverbs 31 isn't a checklist, it's the characteristics that are uncompromisingly inheritable from spending time with Him. For men, I think it's a great reminder of what kind of women they should be pursuing. She dresses herself in strength (Proverbs 31:17), she opens her hand to the poor (Proverbs 31:20), she laughs at the time to come (Proverbs 31:26), she fears The Lord (Proverbs 31:30). With all that society throws at us, telling us what the perfect women is, it's important for all of God's children to hide in their heart the truths of what beautiful really is.

My sins killed Jesus.

     With the grass finally green again, shorts permissible and the scent of dogwood trees contorting everyone's face, it's safe to say spring is here. Spring brings with it a lot of happiness, a lot of hope. In my theatre class we are learning about how productions may use the season to reflect the mood of the play or musical. Winter: harsh and bitter, autumn: dying or decay, summer: life and warmth, and spring: revival and new life. In spring, we have the flowers blossom, the sun come out, the breeze swell in. With spring, we see the physicality of resurrection, with spring, we feel Easter.
     The other night, I was addressed with the question, do I follow Jesus because it's good or because it's true. I've never thought of it that way. I mean, of course I believe what Jesus taught and I put my faith in that truth, but how often do I respond when faced with the "why Jesus" do I answer, "because it's true."
     I've recognized the fact that Jesus lived. I've read the gospels and along with the twelve I've scratched my head in confusion when He compared us to mustard seeds or whatever. I've marveled with the wise men over the awaited Messiah and bowed down at His miraculous birth. I've tried to experience a fraction of His entire life purpose, dying on the cross for my sins, and even though my heart can't hold that much pain, I'm given a glimpse of the sacrifice Jesus made on my behalf.
     On my own, I'm hopeless. I'm sinful and in need of rescuing. And Jesus saves and He loved me so much to pay for all of it by giving up His own life in replace of mine. The wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23), so somebody had to die, but instead of me, Jesus took my place.
     I think too often, I stop there. I recognize Jesus' birth and life and death and just sit in that. I stop and remember that my sins, the bearing of all of our sins, killed Jesus. His entire life purpose was to become obedient to death on a cross as the final sacrifice for our sins and we killed Him. But if Jesus died and that was it, the bible would end there. If Jesus died for our sins and stayed dead, that would've been a nice gesture, but this Messiah guy would've been just another lamb.
     Another aspect I was introduced to the other day was the disciples. When Jesus was busy being dead for those 3 days, what were they thinking? The awaited Messiah was killed by human hands. I think too often we live in our dead sins, feeling like the disciples did those 3 days. The price was paid, it needed to be paid, but what now? That's all true and stuff, but if Jesus died and stayed dead, it sounds to me like sin had won.
     But Jesus didn't stay dead. Jesus rose up 3 days after. My sins killed Jesus, but His raising from the dead means that I don't have to stay dead in my sins either, Jesus conquered them. I will boast in the cross, but even more I will boast in His resurrection. I follow Jesus because He lives and that's true. Death has no dominion over me, I am free and He is truth.

To Be Set Free

For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago. (Ephesians 2:10)

     Through the cross, we have been given freedom. Sin has no dominion over us and there is no bondage to death any longer. Through the cross, God has shown us mercy and grace; we have experienced the sweetest of love. Jesus died for our lies, addictions, envy. Because Jesus died on the cross, we are now able to experience His intended freedom for our lives.
     When I accepted Christ, I had tons of junk in my life, I still do, and the most comforting knowledge of the gospel for me was that I didn't have to clean myself up for Him. He wanted me in the damaged condition I was in right at that moment. Years since then, I'm still damaged. There's still parts of my life God is chiseling away to create me into the masterpiece he planned for me long ago, but I must allow that chiseling.
     When I accepted Christ and began my walk with the Lord, I did it because of the perks I heard on my end, to be accepted and holy and blameless. As I find myself being continuously chiseled into God's masterpiece, I sometimes see myself hiding certain sins. If being holy means giving up that sin, I can wait, I kind of like living in that part of the world. But as it turns out, if we're not running towards God, we're running away from Him. One of the perks of following Christ is being made new. When we're brought to God in our sin, we're just a block of stone.
      Michelangelo was an Italian artist during the Renaissance. One of his most notable works was David, a 17-foot tall, 6-ton statue that took him three years to complete.
     Michelangelo is quoted, saying something like, "I saw the angel in the block of marble and carved until I set him free." And when he was asked how he made the statue of David, he said, "It is easy. You just chip away the stone that doesn't look like David."
     For we are God's masterpiece. We are the David to His Michelangelo, and when God sees us in the block of stone, He sees the masterpiece He planned long ago that He desires to set free.

I should've listened to Kerri Welch

     This weekend I went back home. I knew it was a risk with the supposed winter storm coming our way, but I knew this would be my last time home until Easter, so I figured I better swing by. All week I've been thinking about what the weather was going to be like from Springfield to Blue Springs on Friday and from Blue Springs to Springfield on Sunday. Friday was fine, but when it came for me to leave on Sunday, I can't say the same.
     After church my family went to lunch where he told me he would not allow me to drive back to school today. I assured him I'd be fine and I have to get back for class tomorrow, I have a huge test and I need to be prepared. He did the same thing he always does when I'm about to leave home; check my oil, fill my gas, clean my windows, and disappear with my car the last 30 minutes I'm home. I have no idea where he goes during that time, I think it's just a ploy to get me to stay longer.
     Anyway, I get ready to leave Blue Springs and the roads are fine. I make it through Lee's Summit and Harrisonville perfectly and start my journey on 13 Highway. This stretch of my trip is 2 hours. That's my first checkpoint. I know once I get on 13, I'll only need to make two more turns before I'm in my driveway back in Springfield.
     Once I get on 13, my next checkpoint is Clinton. When I make it to Clinton, I know I'm halfway there, just an hour and a half more. Somewhere between Harrisonville and Clinton, the roads get bad. I have to reduce my normally 65 mph speed to about 30. During this time, I'm leading a pack of about 5 cars, including a semi truck. The roads rough and I know I'm driving on sheets of ice, but I think I'm safe because I'm still driving under 45. All of a sudden, my wheel turns left after I direct it right. Then right when I'm turning left. I turn my head around into the direction I should be going and I end up in a ditch.
     Now, the last time I was in a car accident, I grounded myself for 3 months from driving and sat in Kerri Welch's living room while she played counselor to me until I was able to talk about my last experience behind the wheel. All of those feelings were coming back, but this time, I didn't have the option to call someone and pick me up, I have 2 hours from either direction to a familiar face.
I start to ask myself where I'm even going.
     Stuck in the ditch, I drive my way out and proceed the next 100 miles with my sweaty palms slipping from "10 and 2" and my seatbelt on and my drivers seat reclined up to a 90 degree angle. All the cars I was leading are now ahead of me.
     At this point, I'm starting to question my trip. I only have one class tomorrow, I could've skipped, this drive is awful and I'm starting to feel queasy. My stomach was in knots and this road was lonely. About 30 minutes later, I make it to Clinton, another checkpoint. I'm halfway there. Another 30 minutes pass and I get a phone call from my roommates. They exclaim we don't have class tomorrow. I hang up the phone and wonder, what's even the point of this trip?

     Enter through the narrow gate for wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction and many enter through it, but small is the gate and narrow is the road that leads to life and only few find it (Matthew 7:13&14).

     This trip was no longer a means to class, it was a trip towards home. I redirected my focus, put my blinders on and only looked at the road right ahead of me. There were times I had to follow the cars ahead of me. I slowed to their speed, I stayed in their lane, but when they exited the highway, I was back to my time alone.
     There is one more checkpoint in my trip, it's these crappy lawyer billboards that tell me I'm 5 miles away from Springfield's city limits. The road from Clinton to these billboards weren't much easier, but each mile got me closer to my apartment in Springfield. I came over a hill and saw the billboard of that lawyer shaking hands with some elderly couple and knew I was that much closer. You couldn't believe the peace I experienced when I saw that.
     Sometimes, we have to fall in a ditch to get redirected, sometimes we have to follow people ahead of us. Sometimes, we have to slow down, take a breath and reevaluate our destination.