prayer

my mom lost her bracelet yesterday. we had just gotten home from dinner when she noticed her bare arm. i hate that moment when you realize something is missing. i mean, it could be missing for days, and it makes no difference to you until that moment when you notice that it's missing.

i was already dressed for bed when i saw her make her way to the door committed to find that darned bracelet. i knew the bracelet wasn't a particularly expensive one, so i was a little annoyed by her focused energy at finding it, and honestly, i was in no mood to get dressed back up to go with her on this silly scavenger hunt. but even i am too polite to let my aging mother hit the town alone looking for a needle in a haystack.

we started with "bealls", our favorite discount store where we had spent a few post dinner moments trying on various clearance items. we crawled around the store scraping the floor in search of a blue bracelet while a few scattered hard of hearing, near sighted retirees stared on convinced we had lost our marbles. even the ladies at the check out desk smirked when we asked if anyone had turned the bracelet in.

my mom was devastated. she's not one to lose anything, and despite my reminding her that a fake bracelet means little in the scheme of starving children and hopeless people in the world, she closed her eyes and set out praying.

we had almost made our way back home when something prompted me to call the restaurant where we had eaten dinner. now i was sure the call was useless but i figured i had little to lose in making the call. i was apologetic to the restaurant as i explained the reason for my call, and was astounded when they stated that they in fact had the lost bracelet.

my mom was ecstatic as she affirmed to herself how much Jesus loved her and had answered her prayer.

at first i chuckled.

but as i think about this story today, i'm struck by how much deeper my mom's prayer life is than mine. there is no prayer request that is too little for our God, and there is no need that is too trivial. if you don't ask, you won't get. and if you ask, do it in faith. God hears. God cares.

Go ahead. do it. you may just find that bracelet you think is lost.

faith

have you still no faith?

Jesus asks his disciples this simple question in the middle of a storm. he's asleep in the boat. unfrazzled. they are freaking out.

mind you, they've already been with him for some time. they've seen him turn the water into wine, and heal the sick, and remove demons, and make the lame walk. they have heard him teach. heck, their whole lives have been radically transformed by him: from fishermen, and tax collectors to following this man who claims to be God.

then a little wind blows and their lives are turned upside down. and Jesus is sitting just an arms length from them, but they accuse him of abandoning him, of not caring.

i am amazed at how much my life and attitude reflects that of the disciples in the boat.
i believe Jesus is the son of God, born of a virgin, lived a sinless life, predicted that he would willingly lay his life down for me, went around doing a million miracles, was wrongly accused and taken to the cross to die, but he agreed to this knowingly simply because a sinner undeserving like me needed a way back to God, and then he ROSE AGAIN! his body was never found. his disciples were so radically changed that each ended up dying for him. and christianity grew and endured much. and today i know Jesus and he lives in my heart. he's saved me. i've given my whole life to him. he has radically transformed me. he has protected me and provided for me, and proven to me again and again that he is God. he has answered my prayers and healed my broken heart, he has loved me through periods of failure and given me grace when i have not deserved it.

and yet the minute the wind rises, and the waves grow, and the sun hides behind a cloud, i seem to forget that he is right there unfrazzled, unfazed by any of it. and when i finally slow down enough to listen to him speak, i hear his words clearly:

lina, have you still no faith?

24/7

Where is your God he asks
And looks at me
With piercing eyes
In tattered clothes
All warmth evades
His mother dead
His father gone
The future bleak
Disaster real

Where is your God she asks
Her child is sick
All hope is lost
No tears roll down
Her shattered face
She sits alone
In disarray
If God did care
Why does he dare

Where is your God they ask
We used to pray
The word obey
But trials came
Along the way
Our shoulders bend
Beneath the strain
Of hurtful words
And broken dreams

Then suddenly
the wind picked up
The sun came out
Behind the hills
And clouds began to
Disappear
And then too soon
In turn the moon
Shone brightly down
For all around

My God is big
His presence near
By day by night
And come what may
In summer, fall
And winter, spring
There is no need
He does not see
Nor angry word
He does not hear

He never leaves
No matter what
And just when I
Misunderstand
His purposes his plans his way
He still is near
And whispers clear
My child I’m here
Yes even still
I’m always here

labujamra

welcome

hi!

welcome to my blog!

if you are looking for blog updates on haiti, just scroll on down, or use the index of contents on the right. the first entry is called "day one", and the last one is "reentry".

i hope you enjoy your time at this blog, and visit again sometime to see what's happening in my world!

you can also follow me on twitter @Linamay.

Lina

costco

some battles are just not worth having.

like the battle i just had with the guy at costco. i'm in the self check out line, everything is going just dandy, when this short hyper guy in jeans and a hand held scanner attacks my shopping cart and hollers about the inability of the machine to read the loaf of bread i'm in the process of buying. um, excuse me, but did anyone ask you to talk?

ok, i don't know about you, but my main thought at that moment is "lay off, buster". as if he couldn't make matters worse, he orders me to leave the bread in the cart and loudly asks if i have ever used a self check out before.

now listen, i may not know a whole lot about a lot of things, but like most women in the United States I have in fact used a self check out line before. and what's with the anger over the bread? it's not like i was trying to steal a rolex.

i find that my sense of humor sometimes evades me when i need it the most. see, most normal people could just laugh such an incident off. but not me. no. my rights have been violated, i need a lawyer. or a store manager at least. by the time i've hunted for someone who cares, my blood pressure is through the roof, my items are not purchased, and no one is the better for it but my friend with the hand held scanner who couldn't give a darn what i thought.

and i look over and see my sister just chuckling away.

yeah. some battles are just not worth having.

unanswered prayer

i'm befuddled by your plan
perplexed by your way
confused by your road
certain i'm off base

i'm frustrated by your speed
annoyed by your actions
irritated by your patience
certain i'm off base

i'm discouraged by your answer
disappointed by inaction
discordant by nature
certain i'm off base

i'm resigned to your goodness
submitted to your wisdom
surrendered to your word
certain i'm okay

© labujamra

reentry

i've been asked by many how i've adjusted to reentry to life in the United States since returning from Haiti.

Easy.

I've rushed.

Between finding a gas station with a working air machine to fill my semi flat tire, to starting a new job, to paying my now late bills, to catching up with old friends, and returning phone calls, and cleaning, and doing laundry, and shoveling snow, and updating the blog, and grocery shopping, and catching up on bible study, and and and....

there hasn't been any time to worry about reentry.

and yet, only 4 hours away by plane lies a country devastated by one of the worst natural disasters of all times, with over half a million homeless people trying to survive, and thousands of children still trying to find their parents, and hunger, and confusion, and anger, and illness.

i don't want to rush by my life anymore. i don't want to quickly forget.

i want to experience the pain of reentry in its fullness, the sense that i have too much, that i have led myself to believe that i need too much, that i have forgotten what life is really all about.

my third grade teacher once wrote in my report card: "lina needs to take time to smell the roses".

it's about time i learned that lesson.