Caleb is 4 months old!

He is belly-laughing, grabbing toys, "mouthing" things, and contentedly laying his sweet little hand on our arms. He loves skin! He's sitting in the crook of the arm of the couch and begging with his eyes for food at the dinner table, as well as reaching out to grab our plates. We love our sweet little boy!

A Cup of Cold Water

When we first moved to Togo, West Africa our learning curve was pretty steep. Among the many areas in which we found ourselves with insufficient knowledge and expertise was the area of entertaining visitors who would come ringing the bell at our gate. We came here with an overall suspicion of anyone who would ring our bell within the first year. We had been warned by more than one seasoned missionary in West Africa that all of the con men and crooks would come to our gate, as new missionaries, because we wouldn't know them from genuine people with needs.

Sure enough, within the first week of being in our house we had a man at our gate claiming his son had been bitten by a rabid dog and he needed money for all sorts of different medicines that were required to treat his son's condition. I remember David and I questioning our workers (who had previously been employed by other missionaries in town) if they thought he was genuine. I remember sitting in our living room at night going over the details of his story after having to struggle very hard to understand the French he spoke which we were still so new at speaking and understanding. I remember calling our teammates to inform them about this man asking for money and working to keep each other in the loop to see how much each of us would, or would not, give him. (So that he wouldn't get the full amount for medical costs from each of us.) I remember never knowing for sure if he was genuine or not and begrudgingly giving him a bit of money in the end. This was only the first of many similar situations to follow in the coming years. After living here in Togo for about 6 months or so I think we just started turning everyone away who came to the gate because we realized at one point that we'd given some money to a smooth-talking thief and didn't want to be taken advantage of again.

Gradually, over the past 6 years we've moved far past this point. It has taken time to spot the obvious con men who make the rounds of the foreigners' houses with the big stories and yet the now-obvious-air of something being "not quite right". And we still don't always know. But something much more significant has taken place in our hearts. The Lord has grown compassion there, again. This compassion trumps the need for self protection and I feel compelled to tell you a story about my husband that took place about a month ago.

This transformation of our hearts bent on self protection and concerned with the preservation of rights into hearts leaning towards compassion and following Christ has taken place first and foremost through the leadership of my husband. I remember about 2 and a half years ago a woman came to our gate asking for money for whom we had no way of corroborating her story. And David decided to give her what she asked for. I protested, asking David how he knew she was telling the truth and wouldn't just use the money for alcohol or drugs. And David, said, "I don't know, Becky. I have no way of knowing. All I know is that I feel God prompting me to give to her and I'm not going to ignore those feelings anymore." I am sad to admit that I went on in questioning his motives, asking if he felt compelled to give out of guilt or it just being easier. He responded that he was quite sure this wasn't the case as he didn't feel compelled to give to people who beg every time. He explained that many times he felt a confirmation that they were lying, but there had been definite times when he felt the need expressed was genuine. He also explained he had recently become aware that he had grieved the Holy Spirit by not giving when He had prompted him to give. I, somewhat skeptically, agreed with his thoughts and watched my husband display Christ's compassion in a gradually greater manner over the next few years.

As you know, we've just returned from the states a little over 2 months ago after having our fourth child. A couple of weeks back, an everyday event of someone begging at our gate pierced straight to my heart. I think having been away from Togo for four months and having a lot of time for spiritual reflection gave my heart the perspective it needed to see in a new way the holiness of asking and giving and receiving in the light of Christ's compelling love (2 Cor. 5:13,14).

I was sitting at the computer on a Saturday morning in a rare moment when my three older children were at school and Caleb was actually napping. The bell rang at our front gate. Our day guardian has Saturdays off, so David went out to answer the gate. I didn't pay much attention as he came back in the house, went into the kitchen and then returned outside. (Our bell rings on average of about 7 times a day with Christians stopping by to chat, workers coming to fix something broken in the house, utility men coming to hand deliver bills, the occasional beggar, and various other visitors.) About 5 minutes later he walked back inside with an empty cup in his hand and a look of joy that stemmed from a broken humility that I have trouble describing in words. My mind quickly began to piece things together as I asked, "Who was at the gate?" "A crippled woman," David answered with a break in his voice. My throat began to tighten with emotion as I could mentally picture the sad state of many crippled people here in Togo. "Did she have a cart?" I asked. (Many crippled people here who are fortunate enough to secure one, have a cart made out of old bicycle parts that they can maneuver down the road by turning the "pedals" with their hands, propelling their contraption forward and giving them a way to get around) "No," he answered. The picture in my mind switched to the even more pitiful state of a crippled person without a cart. These people have flip flops on their hands and "walk" by putting one hand on the ground in front of them and swinging the weight of their body forward, just managing to get their other flip-flop-clad hand around to the side of their body to maintain their balance. Their polio-ravaged legs usually hang limply to the side, dragging the ground. My eyes were full at this point as I gave him a questioning look. ("What was your response to her?" I was wondering) David's eyes were brimming with tears as he answered with raw emotion, "I gave her the money she asked for and a cup of water. She looked so thirsty." I stood up and embraced him for a long moment. The emotion which we shared was not the result of self pride at having served "the least of these". It was not utter depression at the sad physical state of this poor woman. It was the feeling of compassion for someone so utterly broken physically mixed with the holy awe of somehow Jesus Christ, himself, embodying this crippled woman, coming and knocking at OUR gate to allow us to serve Him. David pulled back from my hug and said through tears, "I could tell she was happy when I gave her the money, but when I came back with the cup of cold water she literally beamed." We both cried as we knew it was Jesus smiling at David, saying "Well done."

Oh, the privilege of seeing the Lord in this context of poverty! When the days feel overwhelmingly frustrating and my thoughts jump from blessing upon blessing of living in the states and I don't much feel like living here anymore, it's in these moments of seeing with spiritual eyes how Jesus actually came and knocked on our gate just a few weeks ago that sustain my heart. I know he knocks on doors and reveals himself faithfully in the US and anywhere in the world. But for now He has called our family here. And the tangible reminder that He knows where we are and will show us His face in a surprising person now and again is a grace that makes me want to obey him and love him and thrive where he's planted me. "Anywhere with Jesus I can safely go, anywhere he leads me in this world below......Anywhere without him dearest joys would fade... Anywhere with Jesus when he points the way." It's all worth it with Him. Without Him.......I'd have nothing to live for that really meant anything.


"I was hungry and you gave me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave me drink; I was a stranger, and you invited me in....And the righteous will answer Him saying 'Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You drink? ....And the King will answer and say to them, 'Truly I say unto you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.'" Matthew 25:37-40

Waiting...

The very word used to make me anxious inside. I concede that much of this might have been due to the fact that I was raised in a culture where every measure is taken so that people have to wait as little as possible. I also think the lure and expectation of fast-paced thinking and existing was very strong for me as I grew up in the states. I still derive great satisfaction from accomplishing numerous tasks in one day and everyone knows that you can't get much done unless you "get going!" right? I also tend to be the pusher in our family.."Come on. Let's hurry and eat breakfast." "Come on. We're going to be late." "Let's go! Get yourself buckled." (Although as my parents could tell you they had much trouble getting me to leave anywhere when I was a teenager!) However, this practice of waiting is an area that the Lord continues to gently nudge me towards. Ultimately, it is about waiting on Him. I find, however, that if I am not in the practice of waiting on anything or anyone else around me, I have an almost impossible task of waiting on Him to sense His leading or hear His voice.

I've been making a conscious effort lately to patiently wait and give my children time to do what I've asked, or to wait expectantly (and silently!) while they get out what they're trying to say. In practicing this, I've realized that this "waiting" state of mind is one that only the Lord can foster. He's made my circumstances such over the past 7 months that I am physically "still" a lot. I'm home a lot. I'm listening a lot. I don't have nearly as many people to talk to or nearly as much to keep me "busy busy" as I have in the past. I have 4 small children to listen to and care for and a husband who comes home every day with great stories of what went on in the village. About every week or so I get teary inside and long to be back out in the villages at least once a week where I feel like I'm myself, talking and interacting and influencing. As Caleb gets bigger and we find room in our family schedule for me to be out and about in the villages again I am hoping this will come to pass, but I am content and thankful that the Lord is using this time to teach me how to wait on circumstances and people around me.

In this practice of waiting with surrendered heart, I am ultimately learning a little better how to wait on Him and listen to Him. I've found in recent months that hearing Him often takes a lot of waiting and sometimes His answer is in the waiting itself. I've also learned to listen to my husband for the Lord's answers and leading and know that God's answers are often revealed through wisdom He has given David. Having a husband who is a little more prone to waiting and watching has been a gracious gift in helping me to hear God through David's waiting.

I have found that because I am waiting before Him, I have more of a hunger for His Spirit to work powerfully through me. I have more of a desire to abide in His love and let it pour through me to others. I have more of a yearning to see Him do great things in His kingdom. I find myself recognizing Him in places and in people that I've missed before and I'm thrilled! Lord, if you want to "keep me waiting" I am overjoyed to sit and wait, contrary to the direction my flesh pulls. I'm looking for you and wanting you and my heart cries out with Isaiah "Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down, that the mountains would tremble before you! As when fire sets twigs ablaze and causes water to boil, come down to make your name known to your enemies and cause the nations to quake before you! For when you did awesome things that we did not expect, you came down, and the mountains trembled before you. Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him." (64:1-4) I want to wait for the Lord with surrendered heart and witness His glory among the nations as He is victorious over all of the schemes of the evil one and redeems people from sin! As I wait, I'm beginning to see in a fresh way what really matters...

Opposable Toe?

First, just a note about the media player on my blog. It will hang out from now on at the bottom of the page. As I post new video, I will make note of it on the most recent post and you can check it out. Caleb's video is still available for viewing.

Ok, I know it's technically not opposable, but I don't know what else I could name it. This is a photo of Caleb's sweet little foot and I spend more and more time lately staring at his interesting big toe. Those of you who know me well, know that I have a thing about toes. This probably comes from my feeling of dissatisfaction with my own toes that has never completely gone away. My husband David's toes, however, are some of the nicest, well-proportioned and un-knuckly toes I've ever seen. (He modestly agrees with me on my assessment!)

I have no estimate on how many hours I've spent staring at toes here in West Africa as everyone is barefoot inside and usually wearing flip flops when outdoors. I love the variety and different sizes of all ten digits. Of course sometimes people only have 9 toes (like my father, who just had one removed last year) or one of the Christians here in the remote village of Poo Wayi who has an extra baby toe on her left foot which leaves her with 11! Anyhow, I've spent most of my toe watching time with my children from the time they are babies until the present day. With Hannah, Elijah, and Gabriel I can find a genetic similarity for each of their toes with either Dave or me or one of our parents, but this very different big toe of Caleb's has me stumped! I'm wondering as I stare at it throughout the day if he will have to have special shoes. Will his toe push against the top and give him blisters? I've noticed, however, that when he is deeply asleep that his big toes do relax coming almost in even line with his other 8 digits. So, perhaps the wearing of shoes will be therapeutic for him someday, forcing him to walk in a relaxed manner.

All of this is my seemingly useless speculations that I spend more of my days engaging in than I ever would have imagined before having 4 small children. I go through moments, hours, even days of feeling down that I haven't received more deep and profound spiritual insights because of my lack of time to spend searching the scriptures and engaging in intellectual spiritual discussions. And then the Lord gently whispers that He is revealing the deep and profound of Himself to me in the simplest manner as I engage with my children and notice the simple beauties of His creation around me. As for Caleb's toes, the scripture that has continued to come to my mind as I stare at all parts of him and has taken deep root in my heart is Psalm 139:13-14 "For Thou didst form my inward parts; Thou didst weave me in my mother's womb. I will give thanks to Thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Thy works, and my soul knows it very well."