The Promised Land

I spent this last week in a different city in the northern part of the country. We are establishing a relationship there for further work there in the future, one of whom will be yours truly! I hope to move to this city after my time studying in America. There's much involved in this vision that I hope to communicate more of when I'm back in the country. So, for now, I'll just say it was a successful trip and we really enjoyed our time there. It's beautiful, full of trees and surrounded by hills. It is quite the change from the hot, dry desert platte that I live on now! Here are some pictures:









This last picture is of some of the nomadic tribes that live on the way to this city. It's incredible. They live in these tents made of sheepskin and when they need to move they pack everything up on the back of their camels and move on. When I see these I think if the journey that Abram and Sarai (before God renamed them Abraham and Sarah) made when they moved their family from Ur to the promised land. I would love to spend a month or two just traveling with these tribes. Their lives are so intriguing.

the roller coaster of life

Living here is so crazy. Some days are just fantastic and other days my heart is so heavy. I don't feel like I have inbetween days at all....makes me feel a bit bipolar some days.

This week, our dog died. Not only did he die, but we figure he was poisoned by our neighbors. They kept tossing food over the wall to where our dog is and a day later, the dog started foaming at the mouth and vomiting. The next day he was dead. I cried. Our dog was great. He was the best dog I've ever seen here in Afghanistan. We have had dogs before but they've always been a little mean and scrappy. This one was gentle and playful and was great with the kids. I have no idea why they poisoned the dog...if he barked too much or if it was something against us because we believe differently. Either way, it makes me sad.
Here's a picture of the dog. His name was Tozik (a Russian name, named by our Uzbek family).



This week I'm also saddened by some more stories I've heard from the women's prison. Some of my co-workers go there every week. I'm not able to go most times because my work doesn't let me. But, this week one of my co-workers was telling me about a woman who was put in there. She was engaged to one man (which was arranged by her family) but she was in love with another man. She was going to marry the man she was engaged to because it would bring shame to her family otherwise, but she didn't love him; she loved this other man. Because she could not love him, she was sent to prison, probably by her family. Aghhhhhh!!! There is so much injustice here. They also told us that the police who patrol the street there saw that there were many beautiful women coming into the prison so at night they come in and "use" them like prostitutes. I cried last night when I heard about that. I can't imagine how heavy God's heart is for this place when he sees all of this going on. This place so desperately needs your prayers. Some days I feel like coming here was like coming to a crowd of thousands who are dying of thirst and I have one small cup of water in my hand. I can give them that water, but there is so many around me who are still thirsting.

So, yeah, depressing post, but maybe people can understand why the ups and downs here. and keep praying!!!

My home

Well, after much time, here are the photos I promised of my current house that I just moved into about a month and a half ago and which I will be leaving in about a month and a half. We affectionately call it "the palace" because compared to the mud homes around us, it is like a palace. And it's Pakistani-style with the woodwork and the moulding on the ceiling. (which when we moved in one of the children looked up and said "Look mommy, cake!" (I've included a picture for you to see.)

A little bit of a rant

You know, I really don’t like it when people used terns like “closed countries.” What it really means is that it’s a bit difficult and more effort than is worth anyone’s time to be there. I live in one of your so-called “closed countries.” And yes, I’m not going to say it’s all sunshine and roses and warm-fuzzy feelings (because the sun causes heat that escalates up to 125 degrees, the roses are surrounded by dust and piles of trash and the warm-fuzzy feeling you are experiencing most likely means you are about to get sick with a foreign friend that invaded your tummy during the last indulgence on street food). But, I wish people would not talk about places and people like the people that I know and live with like God has rejected them and there is no hope for them. The truth is I talk about God all day long…you know what a closed country is? America. We have so politically-corrected ourselves so you can never say what is truly on your heart and you can’t talk about the deep stuff of life because it may conflict with someone elses’ view and would deem you “intolerant.”

So these countries, these places are not closed. They are not locked and existing outside your own little world. They are real places, with real people and often times, they are the most open places for God to do what he wants because it is full of people who are in desperate need of Him. There’s no where else to turn and we get the priviledge of sharing the message of the One who is There. He is not limited by borders and governments. Our God laughs at man-made political boundaries because His kingdom has no end.

Me and my giant tongue

This morning I woke up to the lovely sounds of our dog barking, whiney, high-pitched Hindi music blasting on my neighbors' radio and the general cacophony of sounds that resonates all across the city. One of my housemates had sent our chokidar (I guess you could equate that with a butler in America....but it's not so snobbish-sounding as that. He's our doorman and helps keep our house in order and tends our garden, etc) to get some bread for us.

So, our chokidar came back with hot, fresh naan (bread) for breakfast. A lot of times it's circular but this time he had gotten this long, flat bread. It's kind of oval shaped and narrows on the ends. I was feeling a bit cheeky so stuck one end in my mouth like it was a giant tongue while we were all sitting down to eat breakfast. Then I yelled out "eat, eat" in the local language which I guess when I have a giant piece of naan in my mouth sounds a lot like the word "uncle" in Dari, which is the term of respect for men like the chokidar.

So, the chokidar comes running back into the room and here I am with a giant, slobbery piece of bread hanging out of my mouth. He gave us a look of confusion and quietly slipped out of the room. Oh mercy. What do these people think of me? And will I ever learn to grow up and not make a fool of myself?

Last week I walked to my tailor to bring some new material to him so I'd have some new clothes for teaching this spring. It was a beautiful day with the sun shining down and a gentle breeze blowing. It was one of those days where I was really wishing I had the freedom to put on a pair of shorts and running shoes and pound my feet into the pavement (which, by the way, we have very little of here) or to jump in my car and drive up into the mountains and go bouldering for the afternoon. But, I don't have those freedoms here. And I was feeling a bit frustrated by that and getting really annoyed at people staring at me. Some days it's so easy to ignore and I barely notice all the eyes baring down on me. But, as I was mulling over my limited physical freedom a taxi drove by my teammate and I walking down the street. He slowed down to see if we needed a ride and when we didn't accept his offer, he kept staring.....and driving. I walked behind the car and crossed the street to try to avoid his eyes which kept following us. And he kept driving and driving, straight into a drainage ditch on the side of the street!!! Then all the shop keepers and others on the street started laughing and laughing. "He was watching the women!" They said. I know that some people wouldn't find this very Christian of me, but that totally made my day. I could almost picture God flicking that car into the ditch and saying "Hey, quit staring at my daughter!!"

I'm realizing that my upcoming year and a half in America is going to be a bittersweet homecoming. Some days, it is so, so, so hard to be here. I have never done anything or been anywhere that is so difficult day in and day out as this place. I have never felt like giving up like I have over this last year. And at the same time, I have never been so inspired to put my whole self into something. I have never felt the love of God like I have this last year and a half. I have never been a part of something so much bigger than myself that I absolutely believe in. And having to leave what God is doing in this place is breaking my heart. And at the same time, I so need some time away to process, to heal, to drink deep of God's refreshing. I've been thinking about what's ahead here and I've gotten piles and piles of advice from people mostly wanting me to return to America and commit myself to something or another there. I have to admit, the idea of returning to America and putting my efforts into something else has been a thought that has passed through my mind....but usually only because it's easier, more convenient, requires less faith and less tears than this place does. If God spoke to me to return home permanently (he HAS spoken for me to return for schooling) the I'd do it in a heartbeat because it's not about what is important for us or what is best for us, it's about obedience and following the leading of the Holy Spirit. A teacher in my organization once said, "I want to lean so heavily on God that if He moves, I fall over." That is the prayer for my life...not that I just am in the place that makes me most happy but that I am absolutely in will of God.

Easter was like any other day here. There were no chocolate bunnies or annoying plastic green "grass" spread throughout the house after the basket was looted for the good stuff or brighly colored eggs or even a well-planned church service or program. But, in some ways, I like that all that "fluff" is removed and I can see my creator face-to-face. My mom was writing on her blog about a discussion she and my youngest brother had had about Jesus' death and resurrection. They talked about how important Jesus' LIFE was. Obviously, we know his death has so much important and significance, but I think my family hit on a key point. Jesus also LIVED for us. He loved no matter what the cost was. He gave not only his life in death but he gave his life while he lived. If only we would show this kind of love more often for others around us. May you experience that life and love of Christ today!

floods

We've been having pretty heavy rains here. It just seemed like it was turning the roads into rivers and making walking EXTREMELY difficult. The mud sucks your feet and moves you around at it's own will, not your own. However, if you have not seen on the news recently, the rains all around the country have brought massive flooding. Many homes have been destroyed around the capital and other places and people have died. Also, the floods have taken out major bridges on the road between my city and the capital meaning we can only travel their by plane. Please pray for those traveling that they would be safe and that the bridges would quickly be repaired.

Not much...but SO much!

Some days I don't know how I can cram so much of life into a 24 hour time space. This week I had 12 hour work days. 12 hour work days in America are draining, let alone here. Although, 4 of those hours involved a language learning seminar this week that was so good. It kicked me in the butt to be continuing language learning. After studying language for 10 months straight 5 hours a day, 2.5 hours a week...I just got so tired. But, my language plateaued after that as well.

I was missing my brother so much this week. Nothing happened particularly that made me miss him. I just felt like he was further away this week. I know you can't get much further away than death but sometimes it seems he's closer than others. It's so hard when every person I meet asks me how many brothers and sisters I have. I still say three...because I do. One just doesn't live here on earth any more. But, it still sends a little stab of pain through my heart.

I don't have a whole lot to say...mostly because I have too much to say today. My mind is swimming with responsibilities and plans and things happening. I feel as if I were to write down all I have on my mind, people would definitely stop reading this blog. So, all that to say, I need prayer for what is going on around me today and what is coming up in the days ahead. We have guests and a mini-d-school and I am doing a week of teacher training here in town. On top of that are meetings and leading the team and house issues and daily life and language. I'm also in need of a new language teacher. Please pray that I would find a person that can meet with me.

We're off to see the village

On Tuesday I ventured out to a Turkmen village that was about 3.5 hours from my city. And there was a real, paved road for about a third of that time. I sat in the back of our van feeling like I was riding a camel the whole way. We donated a library to the school, made a few speeches and left. Usually we will run a teacher training seminar and activities for kids and stay for a couple of weeks. However, this was more a favor for the government because this school has been requesting help for a bit. So, the Minister of Economics came with us and it was all "official." Seriously, the things that I have learned to do over the last two years. I never realized I'd be so involved with the government here.

It was also New Years here. I laid low this year because we had a bunch of security warnings. My city is the main city in the country for New Years...much like Times Square in the States. So, I slept in, watched movies, and that was about it. So nice. Happy 1386 everyone!

Korean teams and local men

This last week we've had a short-term team with us from Korea. I have to admit my view of short-term work has changed a bit as I've experienced it from the long-term side. It's a lot of work to host a team and there have been some good experiences and some bad. It's never good to have a team come and then have to do "clean up" work after they leave either literally or relationship-wise. I could probably express a lot of opinions on this subject, although this is not the object of the post. The point I AM making is that this team was a great blessing for us. They led some amazing worship times (if you have not prayed with a group of Koreans, you are missing out on an incredible blessing!!!) and shared with some of the locals in our mini d-school. Last night they threw a party for our team and cooked some amazing Korean food and totally blessed us. So, the pictures above are the team visiting us, the second is our team and the Korean team. The third picture is me and the kids of a family of mine on our team. They moved into my new house with me.

Tomorrow I'm heading out to a village that we made shelves and tables and chairs for and we're putting a library in their school. I've been realizing something incredibly hilarious. Before I left to come here God spoke to me that I would train both women AND men. I kept this in my heart because I thought it was an impossibility. And I wasn't sure if that was from God, or from me. Well, I would say 80% of my work here has been training men. Between the schools, my office workers and now the mini seminar we are doing, I am working with men more than women. Tomorrow I'm off to spend yet another day with men: my office workers, a government official and the staff of this school, all men. Hilarious....I fought it for so long and yet God seemed to have led me right into this work.

Today I made an incredible discovery. I put on my yoga pants (which until this time have acted as pants that I wear under my skirts here) and dug my running shoes out of a box and got my little booty down to the GYM!!! There are gyms all over the place but they are only for men. Well, one of them in town decided to open it's doors every day only to women for 3.5 hours. Some friends and I went there today and worked out. It was one of the most amazing things I've been able to experience here. There were about 10-12 local women, young, ambitious...married and single. It was a great place to strike up conversations while on the treadmills or doing sit ups. The equipment is not too bad...not Lifetime Fitness by any means (the seats on many of the weight machines are car seats...like they have an actual seatbelt on them. Hilarious!) but I was able to sweat and strain some muscles. I know for many of my readers, it may not be a big deal. But please understand, women do not exercise here. I cannot run, I cannot do anything outside my home so I've been limited to pilates and workout videos. One of the ways I relieve stress at home is to go for a nice, long hard run or hike all day until I'm ready to fall over. Here, the most I can do is pound my head against the wall. I'm looking forward to meeting more women here and am going to make regular event of it.

The weekend is upon me starting tomorrow. I'm in desperate need of it as I've been putting in 14 hour days most of this week. So, I do have one family I'm visiting tomorrow but besides that, my time is MY OWN!!! yeah!!!

Weep with those who weep

Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep. Romans 12:15

To be honest, I am so tired of crying. I have always been an emotionally-expressive person. Most people can tell how I'm feeling even when I think I am hiding it so well. Since my brother's death, the tears freely flow and usually at, to me, the most inconvenient times.

However, today my tears flowed for another death. My language teacher, and my best local friend here, experienced a tragic loss in her own family. Her uncle (her father's brother) went to the bazar in the morning and was healthy and well. When he came home he complained of pain in his shoulder and that afternoon, he died, most likely of a heart attack. My friend showed up at my house a few days later, eyes puffy with tears and we just sat. Not many words were exchanged but grief and hurt and loss hung in the air between us. There was mutual understanding.

Today I attended the mourning session. My heart could barely carry the burden of this time. I entered a room lined with women wailing. In the Bible, where it talks of crowds of women following a dead body wailing, that is what this was like, except within the home. The wife and daughters of the man who died sat at the entrance to the room. The women would enter and just weep with them, wailing at the top of their lungs proclaiming what a good man he was and what a tragedy this was. As painful as it was, it was an oddly beautiful experience. The ache of death is something I have come to grasp. Our humanity NEEDS to wail over the tragedy of death. When I came home for my brother's funeral, I always felt like I needed to constantly pull myself together. I always felt like the odd-one-out weeping all the time (except of course with my family who wept along with me). How wonderful it would have been to sit in a room and just weep all day and have others come just to weep with me. Even God understands this need as he led Paul to command us to weep together. We don't need to tell each other words that we think may take the pain away or lessen it. We don't need another pan of brownies or a casserole. We need tears, lots and lots of tears.

So, i cried with these women. Some of the other women were staring at me and asked if I knew him. "No, but death hurts. I understand this pain."

I know that God is not so narrow that he would take my brother away from me and my family just so I could understand death and relate to people in this land (who experience death way more often than I ever have). I would never put that on God's character. But I know that God sees the complexities and many facets of our life we never see and that he raises beauty out of the ashes. And the beauty is that my tears and pain can come alongside another. Please pray for my friend and her family.

$$$

I found out this morning that I GOT AWARDED MY SCHOLARSHIP TO WHEATON COLLEGE!!!!! I'm so excited. :) It's a full-tuition scholarship that functions as a loan. So, for every year I'm on the field after school, they forgive 25% of the loan. So basically, school is paid for by spending 4 years on the field, which is what I was planning on doing anyways. I was so in need of good news.

I moved into our new house yesterday. It's very nice but has it's typical new-house problems that all new houses have here. Our doors and windows don't all close because the winter has shifted the house already. The water pump is broken so sometimes we don't have any water. And we don't have a generator yet so the electricity comes and goes. I kinda feel like I'm camping.

High-tech security

I've been meaning to blog about our new "neighborhood watch" system here, mostly because it gives me many moments of sarcastic comments and ironic chuckles. I love to let you all in to my bizarre little world.

There have been a couple of robberies in my neighborhood so I don't know who decided it but there are a couple of guys that walk around at night to just be a presence in the neighborhood and deter people from breaking into homes. Sounds great, right? But, they walk around with whistles and blow on them all throughout the night. Also, each house (including ours) pays them $1 a month for their "protection" in the neighborhood. Now, in a way, I really pity these guys. I for one, would not want to be waking around a dark neighborhood blowing a whistle alerting everyone to my exact presence so they can come beat me up. Also, I wonder how this increases security because I think it just lets the people who want to break into a house know exactly where the people are so they can sneak around away from the whistle-blowing guys. AND, what does the dollar pay for? A new whistle every now and then? Maybe to resole their shoes as they walk around on the rocky streets all night? You can't really support a family on that! Everytime they walk by my house at night I just have to laugh because I find it so strange.

Some other crazy new news: I'M MOVING!!! We rented another house because our team is growing. I orginally hadn't planned on moving but it just kind of worked out. The great thing is that I will have my own room for awhile. I'm a big girl now. So, to pay homage to my room that has been home and a refuge for a year and a half now, I am posting a picture below. Once I move and get settled I'll post a picture of my new house. You can actually see the building on the blog I posted below about the muddy streets. It's the tallest building on the left side of the street, so our team all lives really close...which is good so we can maintain our security! ;)

Mud city!!

So, when I was at home I was telling people that when it rains or snows here it gets muddy. But, my words just can't describe how an entire city becomes a mud pit with the tiniest bit of precipitation. We just had a nice snowfall here a couple days ago so I wanted to post a picture to let you in on what it's really like here. (my house is the pink monstrosity on the far right) For those of you who shared good times at the "Pondo"....just imagine the mud there and then put it everywhere and add a few bits and pieces of garbage to it. Fun!

Spotted holiness

In the center of my city stands a gigantic mosque that is a tomb of Hazarat Ali, the cousin and son-in-law of the prophet Mohammed. It is always full of birds, reminiscient of Trafalgar square, except a bit dirtier and less, modernized I guess. The legend is that the more time the birds spend at the mosque, the whiter they become because the place is so holy. It is also said that if they land on your house, it is a blessing for those inside. So, I could either believe that or that they are the most annoying things, making nice white and grayish birdie-poo stains on my house under the window sills.

Today I was standing, gazing out on the city from my second story window of my house. I love to just look out and anonymously watch the goings-ons of my street. There is ALWAYS some group of kids or some men and occasionally the burka clad group of women walking by. I pray for them, I ask God to increase my love for this place, the people. On some mornings I watch the sun rise from behind the mountains or watch the colors dance from yellow, to pink to dark purple on the peaks in the evenings. Today I watched a flock of the "oh so glorious" group of feathered poopers land on my neighbors' house. They caught my attention because most of them weren't reallly white. They were spotted. Some were almost all black with the tiniest spot of white on their tails. Ah, yes. New converts, I quietly mused to myself. Being that it's spring, they must have migrated in and are only beginning the journey to holiness.

Sometimes life would be easier if we could just wear holiness on the outside. We wouldn't have to lie about the jealousy over our friend's success because we'd have a nice big dark spot over our heart telling the world about it. We would have a good reason to ignore the others who were covered in dark color because we knew their deep unholiness. And we could fly with pride when we emerged dazzling white for the world to gaze upon us, dropping our blessings on every person and household we could grace.

But then again, maybe it's good that even though man looks on the outward appearance, God looks on the heart.

Is that you Betty Crocker?

Well, the week is winding down. It's been fairly eventful...a harrowing (but albeit, normal) taxi ride up from the capital, surprise visits from friends who heard I was back, days at the office and afternoons at home resting off my head cold. I've gotten to sit down and catch up with my teammates and local co-workers to hear how things have been going.

Coming back has been such a priviledge of getting reacquainted with the people and the culture. I loved being home but I felt that often times I was defending my calling, defending the people here, sometimes feeling like I was defending God himself (because let's not forget, He was the one who called me to be a part of what HE's doing in this place.) Once arriving here, no one was asking me "Why are you THERE? Isn't it dangerous?" And I know I have a huge support base at home and a cheering section and a wonderful group of people who pray for me and pray for the people here, but sometimes I get the feeling some people are just holding their breath, waiting for me to get through this phase and move on to the next, less dangerous, less crazy thing (like grad school!) All I would ask is that you don't hold your breath too long, because it could be a good long while.

Today I watched a movie called "Magdalene." Fantastic! It's the J. film but it's told from the perspective of Mary Magdalene and emphasizes our Savior's interaction with women and how he gave them dignity and restored their honor. So, it shows a lot of His teaching and tells the story of his life, but it pauses on the woman who was bleeding for 12 years, the woman at the well, the women who ministered beside the disciples, the woman caught in adultery, and of course, Mary Magdalene herself. For those of you in ministry to the same type of culture and religion I am I highly recommend getting a copy of it. It's not out in the local language yet, but will be soon. It will be a tool I will have plenty of opportunities to use.

Some other news I wanted to pass on to my loyal blog readers was my pride at baking yet another new thing from scratch! So far I've learned how to make pumpkin pie from scratch (like from the actual pumpkin, not from a can), bagels, pizza, biscotti, and the list goes on. Today I added TORTILLAS!!!! They looked just like the ones from the store except a little misshappen. I'm telling you, this whole experience has made me a lot more domestic! ha!

Home Sweet Home

After a three day journey across three continents in a plane and couple taxis, I arrived HOME! I have to tell you it was the strangest feeling to land in the country and have that "breathe a sigh of relief after a long journey away" feeling when you come home. That's what this place feels like to me now. That was also not something I was expecting upon returning.

In Dubai I waited overnight in the same airport terminal that I did a year and a half ago upon first entering this country for full-time work. The terminal had changed a bit, (thankgoodness! They put chairs in and a better coffee shop that served more than nescafe. So, I didn't have to sit on the floor and gag down instant coffee this time!) While I was sitting there I was realizing how much life and I have changed since I sat in that very spot just a year and a half ago. I thought how amazing it would be to have the Danika now sit down and have a talk with the Danika a year and a half ago. I wrote about that in my journal while I was there and wanted to write it here to share with you all:

"I would tell her to humble herself and just soak up the experiences. I would tell her to seek intimacy with Jesus above all else. I would tell her not to be so driven to be productive. I would tell her to allow herself to be broken and to learn from failure (and that failure WILL come!) I would tell her to enjoy the people and learn from them--just watch and listen. I would tell her to press hard into language because it sure does pay off and it is in conversation (along with love and time and effort) that relationships are fostered.

"I would tell her that beauty lies within and it cannot be destroyed or marred by man because it wells up from within, and the source is the River of LIFE, Jesus himself.

"I would tell her not to run from the difficult times for there she will meet her Savior face-to-face.
I would tell her to rest, take care of herself and not to be ashamed when she's weak. God truly is strength in our weakness.
I would tell her that she is loved, passionately, deeply, more intimately than she will ever know.

"And I would hug her and tell her she's not alone, that no matter where her two feet take her, she doesn't take those steps alone. No matter how overwhelming the loneliness becomes, she has a Companion, a Leader, a Protector and Provider on that journey."

Wow...who knew experience could dump that much wisdom on you just from a year and a half! And those lessons definitely didn't come easy or in a neatly defined and well-written manual. I hope I heed my own advice in the days to come. I could really use prayer. I'm diving back into leadership. The team seems to be really healthy and stable, praise God. But, we have some big decisions and a lot of work ahead of us to prepare for what's coming this spring. I'll be getting into that on Sunday when our work-week begins.

The wide, wide world

Well friends, and whoever else happens to glance at this blog...It's the night before I leave and my bags are all packed. I spent 4 hours on the phone today just saying goodbyes. I can't believe 3 months has flown by so fast. I was thinking today this time has been bitter-sweet...but then I changed my mind because when I think of bitter-sweet it seems that it's more negative than positive. Yes, the death of my brother was like a gash through my heart, nothing positive about that. However, there have been sweet, sweet times here...with family and friends but the sweetest have been my times alone with the Lord. I've sobbed so much in these last few months, the whole body wrenching, gasping sobbing. But, in the release of the pain in my heart, I've felt the peace of God descend on me like nothing I could put into words. And I have this eye-opening glimpse of eternity that was somewhat clouded before my world getting flipped upside-down. I have come to understand that death is not an ending but a moving on and that the reality of life in a fallen world, that is what is bittersweet about this. We are living in the shadow of promises fulfilled. Our glory is still to come. We live with war, disease, pain, tears, divorce, famine, etc. Perfection, ultimate beauty, everlasting fulfillment is still only a hope in our hearts, but for those who have passed on to the next life, their hope is reality. wow.

So the other great news, I just talked to my Dad on the phone tonight and he read me my ACCEPTANCE letter from Wheaton! Now I'm just waiting for them to tell me that they are giving me money to study at their school! So, Masters of Intercultural Studies, here I come!

I will keep this blog updated and would love emails and comments and communication from EVERYONE! It really makes my day and I love being able to stay in touch even being half a world away.

What do you think?

Here are a few quotes in some books I was reading this summer that really struck me. I'm not offering my thoughts (so as not to influence) but would love to hear some of yours!

I leave on Monday...prayer would be appreciated. (particularly, I need a miracle for my finances right now.)

"Missionary work is a grain of sand, the work untouched is a pyramid....Face it. Look and listen, alone with God. Then go, let go, help go. But never, never, never think that anything short of this is being 'interested in missions.' Never, until this point is reached and passed, delude yourself into believing that you care at all."
from A Chance to Die, by Elizabeth Eliot (biography of Amy Carmichael)

"...But we must remember that it was not by interceding for the world in glory that Jesus saved it. He gave Himself. Our prayers for the evangelization of the world are but a bitter irony so long as we only give of our superfluity and draw back before the sacrafice of ourselves."
from On the Threshold of C. Africa, by M. Coiland