Grace and the Slice of Humble Pie

Let me tell you a little story about a girl named Grace and her favorite dessert - Humble Pie.

Grace loved Humble Pie so much that she always gave it away - wanting to share it with everyone that they might experience the same joy from this remarkably delicious pie. Offering a piece here and a piece there, Grace often found herself giving out every last piece of pie before she even got one for herself. To those who got a piece, they found that each bite stung as they ate it. Though it hurt to swallow it down, the sweet taste and filling satisfaction at the end was always worth it. To Grace, the satisfaction in others' eyes and hearts was always worth waiting for a piece of her own.

Grace has been serving me a couple pieces of Humble Pie. One of those slices is a tasty little morsel full of the fruit (aka side effects) of anger. It's a hard pie to swallow.

This is my sixth time in Peru, and so far I've spent about 5-6 total months in this country, so you'd think I would've gone through culture shock at some point already, right? Wrong. I know - weird, right? I figured it out though...

This is my first time here without other Americans around. This is my first time being fully exposed to Peruvian culture without American refuge or defenses. I'm like a little gringa sheep in a sea of Peruvians. Baahhh.

Today marks the halfway point through my journey - I have been here for a month. This past month has been no piece of cake. I felt like a little girl locked in a batting cage without a bat and the machine running. Each blow came flying at me, 90 mph, so fast I couldn't even see the next one - money stolen from my bank account, car problems, getting a parasite and being sick for a week, struggling relationally with the boys I work with, language barriers, and dealing with a completely different cultural setting through all of it. The way people talk, the way they react when you're sick, the way they react when you unintentionally say something offensive, the way they react when you do something incorrectly, the lack of freedom I have here and how much I have to rely on others to get around. So many sensitivities and insensitivities on both sides of the equation. So much less freedom to do whatever I want to do. It. Is. Frustrating.

But why? Does it have to be?

No.

That's the thing. It doesn't have to be that frustrating. I don't have to get angry. I was just getting ticked off because a) all of these minor frustrations were building up in my mind and b) I wasn't getting my way. And I thought my way was the best way. At the bottom of it all, there's something twisted in my heart and in my flesh saying, "You're better than them. You know better than they do."

Like I said... hard pie to swallow. Hard to admit to myself - "Holy crap. There's a part of me that is a totally stubborn, proud, angry, self-interested little girl who thinks she's better than those around her." Once I realized that, I also realized that believing that and acting out of this nasty little root in my heart will not accomplish any good. It will not love others for Christ. It will not see the big picture. It will not humble itself and seek Grace. This little root will stir up frustration with any little inconvenience or contradiction or action to the way I think things should go.  It'll keep me stubbornly rooted in faulty sand, standing up against the waves instead of trying to ride them and just go with the flow.

I've acted out of that root since I've been here. I've acted out of that root my whole life. Every time I do, I see how it affects those around me and myself. When I act out of a place that's high and mighty or full of anger, I'm in the wrong. When I realize I'm wrong, it's a long fall from the top of my ego. Big tree fall hard.

There is beauty in humility. There is love and kindness in having grace with myself and with others - in realizing that I am not perfect and neither are they. There is something chill and beautiful in letting go of my culture while I'm here, allowing for inconveniences, and embracing Peruvian culture. Grace is a bomb diggity surfer. She rides the waves of life, taking them in stride. She knows that waves will keep on coming, and she will keep on riding them. Like a boss.

So, once again, we get Elsa on it, and I hear the Lord singing, "Let it go."

Just let it go, and ride the waves as they come. Have Grace with yourself. Have Grace with others.

“The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one's 'own' or 'real' life. The truth is of course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one's real life -- the life God is sending one day by day.” C. S. Lewis

Yes, Clive. Gettin' it. Allowing for interruptions is a thing of Grace. Trusting God goes hand in hand with having grace and faith with the circumstances He brings into our lives.

The great thing about this Grace is that it is freely given. It's beautifully humble because it hurts the giver  and entirely blesses the receiver (and yet, also the giver. full circle). The blood of Jesus has covered every crappy thing any of us has ever done if we repent and believe that he is the son of God and he has taken away our sin. It is Amazing Grace. That's what it is. And He gives it to us. He has satisfied the punishment of sin that separates from Him. He takes us off the guilty trial seat in the courtroom and puts himself in our place. He freely offers grace.

This may be a whole other blog post, but I'm starting to realize for the first time how absolutely necessary repentance is. How else do we accept the grace of the blood of Christ if we don't realize how badly we need it?

For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men. - Titus 2:11

If there's something I know this Advent season, it's that

1. I'm an angry, selfish human who has sinned a lot in my life - against God and other people. And my sin hurts God and other people... so I'd like to stop sinning ideally.

2. My name is written in the Book of Life, and all of my sin - everything that separates me from God - is covered by the blood of Christ. I will be found just before the throne of God one day, and I will be reunited with Him in totally awesome and complete joy. Forever.

3. We've got a long way to go, my Lord and I. I think that was the plan all along. :-D

This Advent, I would love to hear what you are learning! Where have you needed or shown Grace in your life?

Prayer Request Corner

• Yo, I've been getting sick. A lot. Would love prayer against that
• For an AWESOME Christmas with the boys! 
• that the Christmas package my family sent would arrive before Christmas! (would be great if it got to Peru today - Friday)
• For the group of Americans coming for the New Year - that we'd have an amazing amazing time together 
• prayer for protection against evil, harm, and attacks from the devil 
• prayer for trust, control over my emotions, and a really wonderful second month here in Peru 
• prayer for my future - I have no idea what all I'll be doing when I get back home, but I'm starting to think about it. 

Wherever You Will Go

"Way up high or down low, I'll go wherever you will go..."

If you were a preteen in the 2000s, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Blond mushroom haircut, cross-necklace clad boy banders The Calling crooning about following a girl wherever she will go. Up high, down low. He'd even get Cher in on it and turn back time, if he could.

We talked about that tonight - the house parents Rosa, Angel and I - as they told me the fully epic story of how God turned bad into good in their lives, healed their marriage, and laid out a series of perfect occurrences to bring them here to this amazing boys' ministry in the mountains of Peru. In each step of the way, they followed what God was doing and where He was going - whether dragging their feet or leaping with delight.

That's when it occurred to me - as a Christian, I'm basically a lifelong God stalker, following him like that mushroom cut singer followed that girl- wherever He will go.

"Follow me and I will make you fishers of men." - Jesus, Matthew 4:19

Talk about the calling (ba dum ch). The fishermen Jesus was talking to straight up dropped their nets and followed him. Wherever he went. For, like, three years.

Have you ever had one of those moments? Has God called you to something in your life?

I think callings can and do look different to people. For Rosa, she knew she needed to pray for and re-unite with her estranged husband. For Angel, after reuniting with Rosa, he had a strong feeling he knew he'd be here in the mountains someday in some sort of ministry. For me, God spoke.

Or more truthfully, He whispered.

Let's rewind a bit. I've been in love with Latino language and culture ever since my 7th grade exploratory Spanish teacher asked me if I was Latina because I had a good accent (and I awkwardly told her, "no, I'm Korean and Norwegian" because, well, I'm awkward). The dancing, the romance, the sass, the food, the people, the way over-the-top telenovelas (soap operas), TACOS, all of it. That love carried me from middle school to high school to college, where I decided I wanted to study abroad in Spain. 

But God had other plans. Better plans.

Sophomore year of college, I hit this deep pit of depression. I mean, I was in a real funk and a half. I tried to pull myself out, and it only made things worse.  Thankfully, I had good friends who pointed me back to God and said, "stop trying to do this alone and seek Him." So, I did. I was like, "God, I'm about 50% sure you can hear me right now, but I just know that things suck right now and I'd love it if you came and changed things around."

And so, He came. He changed. He conquered.

How, you ask? He answered that prayer by putting a heavy weight in my chest over going abroad. Like, an actual physical weight I could feel. Unusual, right? 

This weight started in May, and the deadline to apply came in October. I felt pretty confused about it and stubbornly convinced it was still a good idea to go abroad. I didn't get it. I was like, "What's so wrong with it, God??! It's going to be great!" Yet, the closer we got to October, the heavier the weight became.

Finally, I conceded one day, two weeks before the deadline to apply, in the laundry room of my dorm.  I said, "Alright, Lord. If you don't want me to go, I won't go. Just take this weight away."

Half a second later, the weight was gone. I couldn't get it back - I tried. What was left in its place was lightness, peace, protection, and a promise:

"You will do something else abroad someday."

And that was that. I mean, other really awesome God stuff happened after, but nothing yet abroad. Until I graduated college, and I heard the Lord say,

"Pack your bags. Be ready to go. And when I call you, get up and go."

I, in my genius logic, was like, "God, how am I supposed to pack for somewhere if I don't know where I'm going?!" 

So, I didn't pack. 

I went away to work at a music camp that summer. When I finished work at camp and moved back to my college town, my friend asked one day, "hey, want to go check out this new church?" "Sure," I said. Little did I know how showing up at that church on that one day would totally rock my world and change my life.

You see, that very day, when we arrived late and snuck in the back row of this little church, a man stood up and began to talk about a mission trip he took with another church to Peru. He talked about the mission they worked with - a Scripture Union home for abandoned boys called Kusi, and he shared some of the boys' background stories of their lives before Kusi.

By the end of his presentation, I was bawling. Hysterically. Like, hyperventilating. I had never been so convicted in my life. Hearing about this mission for abandoned street boys in Peru gave me the super feels. So, sitting in the back row of this little church, I started to pray, "Lord, send me. I want to go."

Then, I heard Him say, strongly yet softly, "Go." Like, heard it. As if He were sitting next to me, leaned over and whispered it aloud and also somehow magically into my entire soul.

There it was. That fateful day the Lord kept and began His promise. That day where I happened to show up at this one little church out of hundreds of churches in the area and this one man happened to be talking about his mission trip to Peru and we happened to catch the presentation. All of these happenings that just happened to be perfectly orchestrated.

So, I followed God to Peru. So far, He's led me to six trips and a cumulative half year spent in Peru, hundreds of new friends, a new Peruvian family, and a passion and love that just keep growing for these boys and this mission.

I love being here. As much as I love you all and my family so so dearly and I'm so blessed to have you, sincerely sincerely, I feel at home here. I'm just happy. This is literally what the Lord has called me to, and I am so blessed by it- through hardships and delight. 

I like to joke that, if I ever get married, it'll take one heck of a guy to get between me and my Peru, but I think it's true (or, even better, he'll love it as much as I do!). Since I've been here, I've seen the devil try to discourage me and bring me down - to convince me that I'm not supposed to be here. Thankfully, I've been blessed with the voices of those around me who know God and know me - who remind me that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. It's refreshing to hear those words because I can just let go and really focus on Jesus and what he's doing here. I can let go and listen for how the Lord wants to love His people here in Peru - these boys, this community, and I can ask Him to be a part of that every day. I can get over myself, drop my net, and follow him.

That's my encouragement for you - that you drop your net and follow him wherever he's going. From what I can tell from personal experience, it's the best adventure you could ever have.

"The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." - Jesus, John 10:10