Refuge Worship

Keliy and I have been talking about recording some music for quite some time. I have wanted to get our music put together for a "live" album to bring back with me when I go home. But, time...

There is never enough time. 

But, I am on break now. It's a busy break, filled with making plans for the time away and working on our yearbook. Oh, the never ending work of this place!

But, we set up our house the other day and started laying down some tracks. It's exciting to see this come to life. And I can't wait share our hearts with people in the months to come.

Refuge Worship, a live worship album, coming your way!

Our Ghana home recording studio, mattresses over the windows and everything.

Honored

UuMy sweet friends Serena and Drew came to visit last week.

I met Serena my first year of teaching in East Palo Alto. We had all just started teaching and we were in for a surprise that year. My first year teaching there was met with many tears and frustrations and I wondered if I was cut out for this teaching thing. 

My second year, Serena and I started a little prayer group that met in my classroom once a week before school started. I had no idea that that sweet time of prayer would build a friendship of mutual respect, love, laughter, support, and encouragement through the years.

We saw each other through a lot of seasons. Both the dark ones and the ones filled with all kinds of light.

Serena is one of those people you feel honored to know. She holds tightly to her passions, her love for the Lord, and encourages others to walk in them with her.

When I met Drew, he taught PE and was our behavior specialist at our school. When Serena told me that they were dating, I felt nothing but joy for her. This man is simply good. He is such a good man and desires such goodness for those around him.

Serena and I have talked about her (and her hubby, Drew) coming to visit for such a long time, it was a dream come true for all of us. 

And yet, her and Drew literally came on my busiest week of the year so far. I mean, run around, lose sleep, pull your hair out, crash when you hit the pillow, kind of crazy week. I felt terrible as they had traveled so far to see CORM, to see me, to love on our kids, and I probably spent all of a hour with them the whole week.

Here is the thing with friendships such as this, they make you feel incredibly honored to have them a part of your life. These two served without any expectations and with such passion and dedication. There was nothing I could say to express my deep love and gratitude, but simply that I was so honored. And I know that those who got to meet them, they felt so honored because these two overflow with so many sweet and wonderful gifts. 

Serena and Drew did a few murals in our office!

I am excited to see them when I come home to the States in my upcoming trip, to speak over them the gift that they were during their time here and how honored I am to call them my friends.

I am so blessed.

Some days...

Some days it rains.

And you spend the day in your pjs watching movies.

And you need to cook chili for the campus and warm them up.

And wear a hoody.

Even when it seems rediculous...we still get cold here after a good rain.

Sometimes...

Friendship

I am certain that one of the sweetest gifts in this world is friendship. It is one of those gifts that can't be understood with numbers, runs deeper than blood, and heals the heart as almost nothing in this world can.

My sweet friend, Kat, just left Ghana after spending a little over a week with us here.

We were looking through pictures from our college days, admiring our short, crazy hairstyles, and choice of clothing. We reminisced about our road trip to Prescott, Arizona. We caught up on each other's families. We laughed at a million things together. We worshipped. We danced. We talked until late in the night. We prayed for each other and shared tears over the hard things in life (or should I say the "heart" things of life?).  We celebrated with the sweet moments like hugs from our littles, desperately needed organization, our Thrive girl's tea party, Katty meeting her sponsored child, washing the feet of these kiddos, speaking out the many ways God has moved here at CORM over these years. 

It was incredibly special.

I watched her sometimes, while I was busy catching up on my 50+ emails, or working with a kid, or chatting with a staff member It was so surreal to have her here, yet she remains the woman of beauty that I have always known, chatting with our staff, making people feel loved and included and known, sharing her pictures of Zeke and her husband, Isaiah, with everyone that was willing to watch. In fact, some of our kids even had her videos memorized by the time she left, asking her at dinner each night for the video of Zeke walking 2 steps or the video of him laughing with his daddy. She loves to share her life. 

I was just so grateful to have my worlds collide. For others to get to experience the wonder of friendship that I have known in Kat these past 15 years.

And while I was so sad to see her go this morning, I was incredibly grateful for the time, knowing the sacrifice of leaving her little one, her husband, completely trusting God for full provision. And I know, that I know, that I know, that her visit here only strengthened our friendship, only widened our circle, only deepened the level of love and trust.

Somehow, I have discovered the best of friends are the ones that stretch across the miles and the time and never let the distance get in the way of the love.  Whether they "come" physically to touch and see and feel and smell and taste, or whether they "come" with words of encouragement and prayers and the sweetest updates from back home, I am blessed with some pretty amazing friends.

Today, I am incredibly grateful for their presence in my life. They make all the difference.

Ordination

I'm not quite sure I can find the words.

How do you describe something supernatural with words that are so human? I feel limited, somehow.

The ordination ceremony was beautiful and celebratory and intense and rich and deep and full, all at once.

I feel like I should be able to describe the service for those unable to be there to witness it, but I don't know if I could really capture it for you.

The joy of the praise, of lives set free dancing before the Lord.

The move of the Spirit in worship, laying ourselves down before a most Holy God.

Apostle Judy Shaw and her words of encouragement over us, calling us to be true sons and daughters to our Father, to our calling, and to this ministry.

The ordination charge, calling us to lives of service. Bishop Joseph McCargo made it clear that being called to a life of pastoring is like signing our own death certificate, daily choosing to lay down our lives for the sake of Christ, for the sake of others, for the Kingdom.

But, it was the laying on of hands that I am finding it a challenge to explain.

The words spoken over me.

The emotion of the moment.

The depth and filling, that perhaps even more than "couldn't", it shouldn't be explained.

There are some things that are just too sacred...moments of such richness that words can't contain...sweet and powerful and "bring you to your knees" goodness.

So, I sit, without words, but knowing that for me, ordination was an equipping for what was ahead. And I can rest in that. I can be confident in the spiritual equipping that was poured down.

Called Up

Stacy and John mentioned, almost in passing one day, "Do you want to be ordained as a pastor?"

It took me by surprise.

Titles don't mean a thing to me. In fact, I am someone who avoids things like this.

When I first began to lead worship in prayer gatherings in the States, I loved it because I could sit in the back of the room, lead, and usher others into the Presence. It didn't require me to be front and center. 

And when I moved here to Ghana, I was good for the first year because I taught my little class of students and I knew how to teach, so I was completely comfortable with that calling.

In those places, I felt confident. I felt in control. I felt equipped. I felt knowledgeable.

But, God never leaves us in places where we are comfortable. He desires us to grow. To be stretched. 

And before I knew it, I was the principal of this school in Ghana. I didn't know anything about school administration. I didn't know anything about teacher training. I definitely didn't know anything about running a school in Ghana! I felt completely out of my depth. 

But that was where I needed to be, because if I knew what I was doing, I would have been tempted to take the glory. But this school, it had nothing to do with me. God did it. 

And as I now operate as a director, I can still stand firm in that sentiment...God is doing it. If you only knew how many times a week I think to myself, "What am I doing?", "How will I do this?", "I have no idea what I am doing."...you would wonder why I am still here. But I am here because I know God called me to go, and I am here because I was obedient to His call on my life. I am here because God has gifted me with something that I have to pass along to my fellow teachers, to these students, to my kids.

And now, I lead a worship team on an almost weekly basis...and God is doing it. If you knew how many times I have thought to myself, "I am not as musically gifted as her.", "He sings and plays with such confidence.", "I can't lead with authority like her.". I cannot do it in my own strength. I have to push myself to get better on my guitar, get better vocally, be on the forefront of whatever worship is new out there now, and be willing to learn songs in new languages and lead them with confidence.

It is a constant state of growing. Of stretching.

I keep envisioning a lizard and how they grow, shedding their old skin and leaving it behind so they can stretch out even more.

When we walk with God, we are like that too. 

So, when Stacy asked me about being ordained as a pastor, my first response was surprise. My first reaction was uncertainty. Honestly, I felt like maybe it wasn't necessary, like I didn't fit the description.

The past two days, we have been undergoing teachings on pastoral ministry with Apostle Judy Shaw and Bishop McCargo, who came to Ghana to do our ordination ceremony. More than anything else, the overwhelming definition of a pastor is not just someone who preaches or evangelizes. A pastor is a servant-leader, someone who exemplifies Jesus, and loves people purely and wholly with the love of the Father and trains and equips those around them to walk out their own callings.

I'm not a preacher (though I would say I have grown in my ability to teach Biblical truth), and I'm not an evangelist (I love the one on one so much more than crowds of people), but I do get servant-leadership. I do get attempting to exemplify Jesus to the world. That, I understand and can try to walk in. I understand how to train and build up and equip.

And today, I realized, that this calling on my life, it is pastoral. I have been "pastoring" here for the past five years, whether I wanted the title or not. And there is something happening here at CORM, a spiritual "calling up", and I can't stay comfortable in what I have known. My skin is too tight. God wants me to break free and walk out the new authority He is placing on me.

So, this Sunday, I am being ordained as a Pastor.

And I am trusting that as I begin to walk out this new calling in my life, He will continue to expand me, stretch me, grow me. Call me up.

Inadequate

A few weeks ago, I posted about vulnerability. And then, as is usual when one is incredibly vulnerable, every fear comes back and haunts you. The voices that I have worked so hard to rid themselves from my brain, came back in full force.

Did I share too much?

Am I making a difference by telling my story, by sharing my heart?

Is it worth it?

Well, every time a lie comes, this internal battle rages. But the truth is, vulnerability is the only way to live a life of truth, a life covered in grace, a life in the strength of my Father. 

So, in the end, the truth always wins.

But, I don't know if it will ever get any easier.

And here I am again, holding out my fears and wondering...do you see me? Do you experience the same things? Does this sound familiar?

This past week, we had a friend of ours come and train our teachers on positive reinforcement. She talked through problems in the classroom, effects of trauma on the brain, and how to change the problems in our classrooms. Some of the teachers started going off like lightbulbs, understanding all that was being taught and excited to put it into practice.

For me, the training was a reminder of how things used to be.

A few years back, I taught my teachers very similar trainings on a weekly basis. I was in the classrooms constantly. I fought for things to be done well. I wouldn't say that the school was perfect in any way, but I could see those lightbulbs going off in our teachers and it made me excited.

But, when we switched over to the Ghana Education Service system in 2012, something changed in me.  We hired a principal to help with the load and all that came with becoming an official Ghana-recognized school, and I stepped back. 

I felt inadequate.

I hid behind my mountain of paperwork (which seems to forever increase no matter how long I work on it), and stopped engaging.

I was scared that because I didn't know or understand the system, that I ceased to be relevant. I felt like maybe I had nothing left to offer.

And when our friend came and the teachers started to "get it", I realized how wrong I have been this whole time. I might not have a degree of psychology behind me and years of experience teaching at the college level, but I do have time in front of a classroom. I know how hard it is day in and day out. I know the kids that push every button. I know. 

And I also know a few strategies that work.

So, I'm realizing, I'm not inadequate at all, but rather invaluable.

It's the nature of the lie.

To take away the very ways in which you might be most effective.

A few years ago, I discovered that if I was to have the greatest impact on our children here, I had to influence the lives of the teachers. I could teach one class of 20 students and see change in their little lives, or I could train and disciple and challenge and encourage and call up teachers and see my impact grow to over 240 children. 

That lie of inadequacy took away my confidence. It sent me into hiding (as most lies do). And, while I have continued to lead and encourage our teachers in a small way, my own feelings of inadequacy took away opportunities to see our teachers grow...our students grow.

In Brene Brown's book, Daring Greatly, she quotes another author on the topic of leadership:

“Leadership is scarce because few people are willing to go through the discomfort required to lead. This scarcity makes leadership valuable.…It’s uncomfortable to stand up in front of strangers. It’s uncomfortable to propose an idea that might fail. It’s uncomfortable to challenge the status quo. It’s uncomfortable to resist the urge to settle. When you identify the discomfort, you’ve found the place where a leader is needed. If you’re not uncomfortable in your work as a leader, it’s almost certain you’re not reaching your potential as a leader.”

Yikes.

Am I willing to be uncomfortable?

To feel inadequate and still give what I know I have within me?

To stand in front of those that might speak behind my back and teach them what I know, to entrust them with words that God has asked me to share?

To trust that in my weakness, He is my strength?

Because that is leadership.

And I know that many people follow the confident and the proud and the one with the loudest voice. They trust that kind of leader. But, that is not me. I struggle to be confident in front of others and canbe timid  and defensive and am prone to be stepped on when I don't see the full picture.

But, I'm learning the greatest leader, He experienced all things (that's what the Bible says--so I know he might have felt inadequate at times), but He never gave in. He chose to not believe the lie. He chose to walk in humble leadership, ok with being uncomfortable for the sake of growing and stretching and pushing out past what was known and experienced before. 

I can trust His model of leadership.

Because He has changed the world.

He has changed me.

And I can walk in humble confidence that I have been given everything I need for where I have been called and what I have been called to.

I am enough.

Because He says so.