Kenya Bound

In two days I will board a plane, along with eight other women from Bayou City Fellowship, headed to land, God-willing, in Nairobi, Africa. We will then take a van bound for Maai Mahiu, Kenya.

This is not the most important into, but because I like visuals, here are the eight of us going. Just call us the Brady Bunch. Grin. (From top left to bottom right: Amber Burger, Debra Parker, Micah Allen, Lindsee Eddy (me), Corey Wetherell, Laura Fedorko, Angela Stamps and Danielle Gunnels.) That is for the two of you who enjoy detailed information as much as I do!

Our mission? To commission, open and celebrate a home called Lulu Place for young girls, a teenage girls safe house, all of who come from a history or are at risk of being trafficked or prostituted. Lulu Place was recently built to provide a safe haven for these girls. A place they will call home that will not only offer a place to live, but provide schooling and care as well. I've added the link above, but in case you missed it, you can click this link to read more about Lulu Place for yourself.


And if for some reason the link isn't working, here is a short two minute video explaining Lulu Place.

 
His Voice Global - Lulu Place from Paul Go Images on Vimeo.

A little background information that might help you understand how we came to know of Lulu Place is that, for the past three years Bayou City Fellowship has partnered with His Voice Global, founded by Vernon and Amber Burger. Vernon is one of our pastor’s at Bayou City Fellowship. About a year ago, His Voice met a pastor from Kenya who shepherds a church, Rift Valley Fellowship in Kenya. Rift Valley is located in Maai Mahiu and, “The town of Maai Mahiu in Kenya consists of 5000 people and 600 prostitutes. That’s about 1 prostitute for every 8 people. Maai Mahiu is located on the “HIV Highway” also known as “The AIDS Belt” in Africa. The prostitutes, or CSWs (Commercial Sex Workers), are mostly made up of teens and young women.” (Taken from the His Voice Global website.) 

Needless to say, Isaac and Esther Munji, the pastors of Rift Valley Fellowship (I promise after this post things will be far less confusing) had a heart to reach out to these women and their girls and dreamed of building a home for the young girls, in hopes that it would prevent them from being the next victims of prostitution. After this dream was shared, it was presented to Bayou City Fellowship and they felt led to sponsor this task and a year later, a home has been built. Praise God! 

And THAT is how this trip came to be! God is a God of provision and to be a part of the story is a sweet gift. We are not just going to take pictures of the home, though there will be plenty of pictures to share, and we’re not just going to decorate these girls rooms with really cute, homemade, pinterest worthy décor, though there will be a lot of that as well; we’re going to get to know these girls, to hug them, to laugh with them, to pray with them, to share the love of Jesus with them. This town has a reputation of being “dirty” and “bad” and “sinful”. Our prayer is that those words would be exchanged for “worthy” and “good” and “beautiful”, not because of who we are, but because of who Christ is. He loves these people more than we could ever dream of loving them.

Lulu is Swahili for precious, protected, and containing great value or worth. Yes, Lord! May these girls live under the conviction that they are precious, protected and contain GREAT value and worth in the eyes of Jesus. They have dignity. And hope. And a future that is good.

It is the desire of Isaac and Esther that God redeems and delivers people in this town. What better way to answer that prayer than by using young women?

So, why am I telling you all this? For one, to pray. I have so many thoughts about this trip in my head and I am going to try my hardest and post some prayer requests before we leave on Wednesday, but also, for support. The Lord has provided above and beyond for the eight of us to go on this trip, but now we’d love to see how God provides financially for these girls as they move into this new season of life. It would be naïve of us to think that just because the home has been built, that there are no more needs. Each of us has a responsibility in the Great Commission to either go, give or pray; so my desire is that each of us consider what is the Lord wants us to do, of course, not out of obligation but out of a generous heart.

To give initially, you can click here.

Over the next week I will be blogging, hopefully daily, about our trip in hopes to represent both these precious girls and His Voice Global well. In those blogs I’ll share more needs and specific ways you can give. YOU, yes you, get to be a part of this story as well. And for that, we are so grateful.

 

That Time I Stood on the Same Field as Tom Brady and Beyonce

I know very, very little about football.

Like, I can’t even explain to you how unaware I am of the plays, the terms, the rules and what is actually happening on the field.

I don’t even feel a little bit embarrassed confessing this because I’m either going to lie to you, or tell you the truth, so I’m going with the truth.

Over the years my knowledge has increased a smidge, but unfortunately, not enough to keep my attention on a three-hour game. Usually when the Texans or Broncos are playing my family has a live text feed happening so I am aware of what is going on, but during any given football game, that is the extent of my involvement, and really, investment.

Someone once told me that if I knew the players stories a part from their playing football, I would probably be more interested, and I understand that. I’m so not emotionally invested in football that it’s hard to keep my interest. So maybe I should start doing my research. If I can find a few “30 for 30” episodes I’ll try and start there.

(Aren’t you proud that I know what “30 for 30” is?!)

The tension is that I really WANT to like football. Every year college football starts and I see friends and family wake up on Saturday morning like it’s Christmas day, I feel a little bit of jealousy in my heart. I really want to wake up and be all, “It’s college game day! I can’t wait to sit and watch football all day!” but that dream has yet to pass. Again with the emotional investment. It’ a vicious cycle.

All of that to say, what little I do know about football, keeps me in the know for most big events. I have most likely heard of and even watched a few games of big players. And by big I mean high profile, not necessarily big as in body type, but I can see how that might sound confusing. Because football players, I understand, are large.

For instance, when you say the name Tom Brady, I won’t give you a blank stare. I’ll know where the conversation is going. Can I contribute to the conversation? Most likely not, unless it has to do with a scandal I may have read online. And we all know that everything we read on TMZ is 100% truth. (And for the record, I've never read a scandal about Tom Brady on TMZ. I've never even visited TMZ intentionally.)

Anyway, almost eleven years ago to the day, I stood on the same football field as Tom Brady. And I can even prove it to you.

The Super Bowl was hosted in Houston in 2004. (By the way, 2004 sounds much closer than eleven years ago.) The event planners contacted my former choir director and originally asked if he could get a group of kids together to sing the National Anthem with Beyonce’. No big deal. (Wait. What? I'm still bug eyed over it.) (And side-note, the choir I was involved in was a city choir, not an actual school or church choir.) Unfortunately, that gig fell through, but they asked him if he had any older or former choir members he could pull together instead, to sing with Josh Groban. Houston Children’s Chorus is a very large chorus, with many members still active as alumni, so he knew he could make it happen. (I could talk about all of the experiences I've had with HCC for years. Like singing at Carnegie Hall, and the Vatican in Rome, but I also might bore you to tears. But really, I appreciate them so much more now that I'm older.)

After multiple rehearsals, recordings, excitement, being escorted to the stadium via a large bus and security, and waiting backstage with the rest of the E! anchors, we found ourselves on the field of Reliant Stadium standing on risers waiting to sing “You Raise Me Up” with Josh Groban. To this day it ranks as one of the top experiences of my life. Our role for the pre-game show was to honor the families of the fallen astronauts from the space shuttle mission, Columbia. A tribute to their families and NASA. It was equally as exciting as it was humbling. I hope to never forget it as long as I live.

(Tall girl here stood in the back row, but if you look closely you can see me around 1:50 in the upper right hand corner. And you can catch a great glimpse of Jen at 2:32. Brien and Kevyn, my brothers, were also there. It was just a fun family outing. Oh, and you can see a close-up of Tom Brady around 1:42.)

We were slotted to sing right before the National Anthem, so as soon as we were done signing, we stood in our places on our risers, and watched as Beyonce and her orchestra took their places. I can still vividly see Beyoncé’s face, and all her bodyguards, as she walked out on the field. I can only imagine how overwhelmed she felt. If I was nervous to sing WITH people, she had to have been shaking in her stilettos. Because of timing and logistics, they made us stay in our places while the stadium sang our National Anthem loud and proud. We were not sad about that at all. It’s basically like we sang the National Anthem that day. With Beyonce. Basically.

The only thing that could have made the day perfect would have been to get to stay for the game, but unfortunately, they escorted us out and straight to our fancy bus the minute the National Anthem was over. And lest you have forgotten, that was the year of the Janet Jackson escapade. (Insert awkward smile.)

I knew what teams were going head to head that day, and well, that’s about it. As we watched the game at our director’s house, we were on cloud nine. It had been a good day.

Every year the Super Bowl approaches I think about my day the pros. And then I remember, oh yeah, I stood on the same field as Tom Brady. And I laugh. And then I tell people about my claim to fame. (It may not be throwback Thursday quite yet, but I'll just call this post Way Back Wednesday.)

Because you know, Tom Brady and I are totes best friends forever. 

A Million Little Moments

I like my bedroom in the morning as the sun starts to peak through my windows.

And looking into my bedroom to see a bed that is made.

I like rainy days at home.

And the white noise of a thunderstorm.

I like using a straw.

And buying fun straws with different designs on them.

I like writing deep and surface things down in my journal.

And reading those journals ten years later.

I like approval and guidance from family and friends on life choices I'm making and shoes I am purchasing.

And knowing that ultimately, who I really want is approval and guidance from is God Himself.

I like how cold the sheets feel when I first crawl into my bed at night.

And stretching like a baby first thing after waking up.

I like singing anywhere and everywhere at anytime.

And trying to find a harmony to any and every melody.

I like Netfilx, and Hulu, and Amazon, oh my.

And having the freedom to watch my shows whenever I want.

I like sunsets.

And knowing that not one sunset or sunrise has been or ever will be the same.

I like reading the Word of God.

And I like when IT reads me, when the words jump off the page.

I like sending snail mail.

And receiving it, too.

I like painting my nails at least once a week.

And spontaneous adventures.

I like washing my face before bed.

And falling asleep on the couch at night.

I like dressing up and feeling cute and pretty and like a girl.

And also, I like the pajamas-all-day kinda days.

I like not knowing how it’s always “supposed to be”.

And learning to go with the flow.

I like quiet bookstores.

And restaurants that serve brunch.

I like laughing until it hurts so bad and you can’t breathe.

And shedding a few tears, too.

Most of all, I like the simple and small joys that a million little moments in life brings.

Let Us Reap in Joy and Singing

Four. That’s how many Word documents I currently have open on my computer with unresolved blogs. The cursor blinking at me wishing I’d just finish one complete thought. But it’s not happening right now so instead I open up just one more blank document in hopes to finish just one post before the New Year. Because then at least I will feel I accomplished something I've been thinking over all day. The last day of 2014.

When 2013 ended I was not sad to see it go. I welcomed 2014 with open arms and quite frankly, high expectations. I had plans and dreams and hopes and wishes for the New Year and I think the constant “It’s your year, I just know it” comments towards me made me feel all the more confident about the months ahead. I don’t always understand the “it’s your year” comments people make, but I also am a glass half-full kind of girl and I realize that sometimes people have to breathe courage into you by way of encouragement and I guess that’s one way to do it. Plus, I’m old enough to know that when our faith is weary, sometimes your people step in and believe God on your behalf. It’s a really beautiful thing.

So here I sit on this New Years Eve and with everything in me, I’m not sad to see it go.

In complete transparency, this year has been marked with loss, disappointment, hope deferred, confusion, sadness and many tears. I realize it sounds somewhat depressing, and I can even say there has been some of that as well. Those expectations of mine, if you looked at the external, were not met.

But what would be even more depressing is if I just let my blog post end there. Because while that may have been my 2014 experience, I can assure you those are not the characteristics of my God.

This I know, He is good, because He can be nothing but good, and He is near.

I often don’t understand His ways, but I’m not made to understand them. (Isaiah 55:8) No one can understand them. We were created to trust Him. And I do. Despite different circumstances, He has proved Himself trustworthy over and over and over again. I don’t always understand why He uses certain events to teach us about Himself, but I’m thankful that He pursues me to get through my stubbornness. I’m thankful He doesn’t leave me like He found me.  And He loves you too much to leave you the way you are.

I’m a big fan of journaling and just recently I thanked God for two things He’s taught me this year, even though I may have learned them kicking and screaming. And even though I'm still learning them.

He’s taught me about identity. I have said to nearly a million (that may be a slight exaggeration) people in that past few months that I could tell young girls all day long that their identity is in Jesus. Not a boy. Not a job. Not money. Not a house. Not family. Not friends. Not popularity status. Not beauty. Not anything. But it’s one thing to say that and it’s another thing to live it. My identity is secure in Jesus, nothing more and nothing less. When all else fails, I have Him. When all else goes away, He is my anchor. And He is enough.

I don’t know which is more important, but besides identity, He’s not just taught me about His nearness, He has been near. On the nights I couldn’t fall asleep until 4AM, He was near. On the days I spent ignoring Him completely, He was near. On the days He has been so quiet, He was near. On the days I spent trying to hold back all the tears, He was near. On the days I spent crying those tears, He was near. On the days I spent doubled over in laughter because of the crazy people I do life with, He was near. I’ve never known His nearness like I’ve know it this year, and as He says, His nearness is our very good. I’m tempted to say it’s what’s best for us. (Psalm 73:26)

As common as it is this time of year, I was recently asked if I had any New Years resolutions. The truth is, I don’t. I understand them, but I usually don’t end up keeping them. Thankfully, my God is a merciful God and His mercies are new every morning, not just every New Year. And I’m learning that it’s the small moments between Him and me that are the ones that shape me and make me more like Him. Yes, the big moments do, too, but the small, almost unconscious moments are the ones I like to remember. When He’s been near. And when I’ve been the slightest bit attentive to His work in my life.

Today I remembered Psalm 126:5 and bookmarked it for myself. In faith, I want to claim in over 2015.

I don’t know what your year has consisted of. It could have been the best year of your life, and it could have been your worst. Most likely you and God know the intimate moments and details that have made you more like Him.

But for those who have maybe had a year like mine, can we just take note of this Psalm? Those who have sown in tears in 2014 will reap in joy and singing in the year to come! Yes, Lord, let it be!

2015 is upon us, friends. It’s a blank slate. Only God knows what it holds, which is why He holds the paintbrush. I sincerely hope and pray it is filled with joy, but more than anything, I pray you feel and know His nearness. Because it is for your good. And He is for you. Make Him your refuge.

“But as for me, the nearness of God is my good; 
I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all Your works.” Psalm 73:28

“And now, God, do it again - bring rains to our drought-stricken lives
. So those who planted their crops in despair 
will shout hurrahs at the harvest,
 So those who went off with heavy hearts 
will come home laughing, with armloads of blessing.” Psalm 126:4-5 (The Message)

Happy New Year!

Sound Check

Checking, checking, one, two…

Check one, two, three…

*taps mic*

Check one, two, three, four…

All good? Perfect.

I get the really fun and humbling privilege of serving on our worship team at church and this is how we begin every Sunday morning. Very early, mind you. Before we really get rolling into the actual rehearsing of the music, we start by making sure we can all hear each other and that our in-ears are all leveled out. (In-ears are just a fancy word for monitors, and monitors are just speakers so we can hear ourselves so we don't go all flat on the people we're leading. That's never pretty.) Anyway, it's what we call sound check, which is precisely how I feel about this blog right now.  I don't know about you, but I think I've clicked on my blog all of three times in two years, because that's how long it's been since I've sound checked over here. Writing on one blog consistently is no small feat, so when I started writing more on the LPM blog, naturally this one took a back seat.

But I've missed writing over here on this little corner. 

And now I’m in a season of transition, and if you know me personally at all, you know I’m a processor by nature (albeit slow processor) and a lot of my processing happens through writing, and so I need to write. And more importantly, I want to write. 

Which means I’m dusting off the ol’ blog again. I realize no one may read this, but that’s okay. I’m writing for me. For my heart.

I don’t know how often and I certainly won't make any promises, because I hate breaking promises,  but I do know I’ll share the mundane and the serious. Because that’s how we humans roll. We need a little laughter and even a few tears to make it through this life.

Not so coincidentally, a couple weeks ago I purchased a new Bible. Mine was literally falling apart because I've used it for so long and that was really stressing me out. A couple days after I bought it, I was with a sweet friend headed to a prayer meeting with my new Bible as I was explaining to her how giddy I was over its newness. I then told her that to me, sometimes a new Bible signifies a new season. New mark ups, new scriptures to memorize, new words to see and new stories to hear. And that’s where we’re at. A new season. New territory. New dreams. New discouragement. New lessons. And new songs.

New songs about trust, hope, fear, love, serving and walking on the water.