Reflections: This one's for Juliana

When I first began painting in Indonesia, I was home in our 3 bedroom house.  The walls in my room were painted blue, the same blue used in our bathroom. Soothing. Peaceful. Fresh.  After a couple days 'locked in my room', I finally came out for air.  And refreshed I was.

On the other side of the wall, Juliana's room was purple (her favorite color).  This painting matched her walls.  She liked it so much that she asked me to paint her walls like it.  Looking back, I wish I took that project on. Now that I'm back on the other side of the world, it seems like a world away.

Juliana was always so patient with me.  She was constantly generous and gracious.  We could have such honest conversations - in my weariness, about my frustrations, and even my dreams.  Together, we would learn about how to live in a third culture. All the while, she was learning about mine and I about hers. 

She recently took a trip on her own.  I miss taking those trips with her -and numerous they were!  Sometimes with a large group, and sometimes just the two of us daring to explore the jungle villages.  We could take turns being the brave one when it came to adventure - whether teaching art to kids, creating a Christmas drama with orphans, or teaching a high school English class. When I simply didn't have the words, she did.  Even beyond being one of my brilliant language teachers, we could simply talk through our troubles and successes!

We would play arcade games, only to be watched (and laughed at) by some of our students.  We would get drenched riding the motorcycle back into town.  We would simply laugh at whatever made us enjoy life.

But even being on the opposite side of the world, I am reminded of her passion.  She genuinely loved getting to know people, taking time to love kids from all walks of life, and simply making time to let people know that they are priceless.  I imagine how this fire within her continues to be fueled by only something deep inside her soul.

Her life really is evidence of the Life of Fire.

Closed Doors

With an invitation to do art with kids in Central Asia, we sought out the possibilities. I dared to ask God for clarity. This week, I received an e-mail that another group of 8 has already committed to go. And thus the clarity has been given. So we go until you get a "No" - and that's a no for that location and this year. Its' not always very enticing to write entries such as this one. But they are little steps of the journey to remind me that I haven't forgotten what I've been given a vision to do.

We'll see what's next. For now, dinner at Wahoo's.

Water from the Sanctuary (Fertile vs. Futile)

It's 4 am. I cannot sleep. I keep dreaming, but am wide awake. I am afraid to tell God, "Talk to me, I'm here," because I'm afraid of what He might say. I muster up my courage to finally stop.

"Okay, I'm here!" In my stubborn desire to do all the talking, "I want to remain fruitful (though feeling a bit inactive)."

He gently reminds me to stay connected to Him. "Every month they will bear, because the water from the sanctuary flows to them." Ezekiel 47. He's my sanctuary: sacred and safe. My 'water' - the motivation, the vision, and the hope - comes from Him.

I am afraid to tell God, "Talk to me, I'm here. I'll do what you require, and I'm listening." Because I'm afraid of what He might say given 'permission' to be heard. I'm afraid of just what He might require of me.

I go back to the story about Samuel. 1 Samuel 3. "In those days the word of the LORD was rare; there were not many visions."

(Basking in awe.) "WOW. Okay," at the thought that God would have ever entrusted me with a vision to begin with. (Back to being humbled.)

Still.

Still, I'm am safe. He is my sanctuary. And so, in this, I will rest. 6 am.

Lately and the Possibilities

Other than a month off for our wedding and honeymoon, we've been teaching KidsMosaic HD (grades 4 & 5). Every 3-5 weeks, we get to do a creative review. After studying the Word, we turn it into an art project or game and recap. It's a way to get tactile and kinesthetic learners (i.e. me) more deeply connected. It's a fun way for me to teach without feeling like I'm lecturing and making them read a history book. And, for the past 4 years, it's also been a good way to study it for myself.

In the past few months, our core team has expanded! More volunteers are popping up to teach and assist. This also means that we have sat in on the main gathering more often on Sunday mornings.

A few weeks ago, we sat in at the Pasadena gathering and listened to a talk about love. One of the points was "What are you birthing/creating together?", referring to a common mission. It stirred my core. I wonder about this vision that I was given seven+ years ago in contrast to my exploration since. Although I've partnered with at least 9 different teams in the past 4 years, it still seems like a drop in the bucket. It's as if the vision is still incomplete, not in quantities or even quality - just not to its envisioned capacity.

In the past few weeks alone, more inquiries and invitations have popped up concerning art camps around the world. And that's not to say that they hadn't earlier. But since last summer (Created to Create '09), I gave myself the grace and space to simply (or not so simply) transition into married life. And, yes, married life has been great!

As we grow, the vision transforms with us. The anticipation is exciting. The steps along the way have been engulfed with a peace that surpasses understanding. And so, just as we have in the past, we keep taking one step at a time into the deep unknowns of what's next. I'm still asking for discernment in determining which step to take, in which direction, and in clarifying the destination. And there are many possibilities: Burma, Tajikistan, Indonesia, Lebanon... Anywhere really. I'll try to keep you posted as it becomes clearer. Thanks for still supporting us through these many stages of limbo.