I need your prayers

“You will be the next Beth Moore but in Mexico.” I dismissed the thought as soon as it left Sarita’s mouth. However, I did appreciate her affirmation for she was only trying to encourage me after I made the terrifying decision to be the speaker at the young women’s conference this November. Let’s just say I had been trembling since Anita took me by surprise a few hours earlier in the kitchen. We were just cooking some beans for lunch when suddenly what seemed like a normal nonchalant conversation took an unexpected turn and I had to ask her to repeat herself to make sure I understood her Spanish right…. My thoughts became sporadic (surely she was just inviting me to attend the conference and not inviting me to actually be la Conferencista). Immediately, I could feel the heat rising from the beans that were on the verge of boiling as my mind switched to panic mode, piecing together the string of Spanish words that rapidly rolled off her tongue. And there it was again .... that word “conferencista” . It was as unmistakable as the green hot sauce and it stung all the same. She looked up at me as she finished her request, eagerly awaiting my response. My first stuttering words echoed the thoughts that rushed in my mind as I said, “Anita I can’t possibly be the speaker.” Did she really think about this question before she asked me? She asked the girl who still struggles on a daily basis to communicate to stand up in front of a group and share God's Word… This place is crawling with seminary students perfectly capable of doing an outstanding job not to mention their native tongue is in fact Spanish. Then right on cue, images flashed in my mind, one after another, turning my stomach as the devil pressed rewind on that infamous tape of my past sins. It was as if the devil had the perfect game plan. First, he started with reminding of my weakness and uncovering my deep insecurity concerning my Spanish and then topping it off with making me feel completely incompetent by jogging my memory of every past failure and rebellion. I felt sick to my stomach with these horrendous past reminders coupled with the sudden pressure. I stared down at the pot of black beans in front of me, wishing to dive in head-first and hide from everything. Instead, I chose to escape through the back door of the kitchen, welcoming the gush of fresh air behind the screen door... It never felt so good to breathe. Then the tape of my shortcomings was paused by the interuption of the ever recognizable Garth Brooks’ song “Shameless”. Hmm… of course I thought… It was a sweet reminder of my self-proclaimed theme song. Let's just say that six years ago, this song played on the radio and the words took on a different twist for me. I listened to the song as if Garth Brooks’ voice was my own and I was singing to God. Ever since this moment, this song has been something very special between God and me. You should listen to the song this way; it is very powerful and a picture of the desired intimacy we should want to have with God. I love it. And God knew it was just what I needed. Bottom line, I am in love with God and I am willing to do almost anything for Him even if it means making a fool of myself. And the thing is that I know God will not make a fool of me, no matter how paralyzing the feeling is of this speaking engagement......

..... This conversation with Anita took place two weeks ago. Today at lunch she gave the students (the ones leaving for the weekend to go to their assigned churches) the invitations for the conference. It was a very surreal and humbling feeling to look down at this invitation and see my name listed as the conference speaker and to think these pink papers were about to be spread in the surrounding cities and towns of Cordoba. Please pray for me as I am preparing myself for one of the biggest steps of faith I have ever taken. I honestly don’t have a clue as to what I am doing. Please pray that God would show me what to talk about and use me as His mouthpiece so that hearts would be healed, sins uncovered, and souls saved on November 7. Thank you my sweet reader. John 15:5





Click on this link to listen to "Shameless" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YdDD8hSiKZs


"Shameless" Garth Brooks

Well I'm shameless when it comes to loving you
I'll do anything you want me to I'll do anything at all.
And I'm standing here for all the world to see
Oh baby, that's what's left of me
Don't have very far to fall


You know now I'm not a man who's ever been
Insecure about the world I've been living in.
I don't break easy,


I have my pride
But if you need to be satisfied I'm shameless, oh honey,
I don't have a prayer
Every time I see you standin' there I go down upon my knees.
And I'm changing, swore I'd never compromise
Oh, but you convinced me otherwiseI'll do anything you please.


You see in all my life I've never found
What I couldn't resist, what I couldn't turn down
I could walk away from anyone
I ever knew But I can't walk away from you.
I have never let anything have this much control over me


I work too hard to call my life my own
And I've made myself a world and it's worked so perfectly
But it's your world now,
I can't refuse I've never had so much to lose
Oh, I'm shameless.


You know it should be easy for a man who's strong
To say he's sorry or admit when he's wrong
I've never lost anything I've ever missed
But I've never been in love like this.
God It's out of my hands.


I'm shameless,
I don't have the power now
I don't want it anyhow


So I got to let it go.
Oh, I'm shameless, shameless as a man can be
You can make a total fool of me
I just wanted to you to know.


Oh, I'm shameless,
I just wanted you to know
Oh, I'm shameless,
Oh, I'm down on my knees shameless

And Kelsey sang

It was hot… I am talking about the kind of hot that motivates you to share the gospel from the sheer horror of knowing that Hell is real and worse than the current environment you find yourself in. And I forgot my deodorant… The wet stickiness under my armpits reminded me of those days in middle school when I first started wearing deodorant. I’m sure you remember your first wearing deodorant days and the unmistakable regret that welled inside you on those days you realized you forgot to apply that sweat protector. I painfully reminisced of how I would fake sick just to go home because of my impending smell. Now being a veteran deodorant wearer, I couldn’t remember the last time I forgot my deodorant and it seemed paradoxically fitting that here I was in a village in a mountain in Mexico on the seemingly hottest day without my Mitchumen antiperspirant. Not only was I reeking of body odor, but also my body was tired and achy from the work that I had been doing in the kitchen the previous week. My mind was tired from teaching 10 classes and translating; I was at the point of speaking English but with Spanish grammar. Let’s just say that “She is a girl pretty” sounds strange. My feet were swollen and reminding me of that ever familiar dulling pain. I was sitting on a wooden pew in the middle of seven Mexican children who chattered away in their Indian dialect when I glanced up at the ceiling and admitted “Father, I am tired. I don’t think I have anything left to give.” I was at the end of myself. But something happened. Something made me come alive and conquer my physical exhaustion and mental tiredness. All I can say is that Kelsey sang. Yes, Kelsey sang. Man, did she ever sing. I have never met anyone quite like her who was so musically talented and so consecrated to God at the same time. And that is all it took. She played her guitar and sang. Suddenly the heat within the church transitioned from something unbearably uncomfortable to the warmth and protection of a winter coat in a storm. The sweat on my face turned into tears making their way down the curves of my cheeks. The disarray of words and grammatical rules of two languages that were mixed in an alphabet soup in my mind formed words in comprehensible ways. Peace and strength resonated within my body to the notes that eloquently and unashamedly flowed from Kelsey’s mouth. And I joined her as we sang praises to our King in this little church in some village in a mountain in Mexico.

And then the little girl, who had been sitting in my lap since we started the VBS, looked up at me with those beautiful mesmerizing brown eyes and every inconvenience, sore muscle, and discouraged thought disappeared as she tugged and pulled on the loose strands that had fallen on my face. I inclined my head, giving her little fingers the advantage to my rebellious strands of hair. In this moment in some village in a mountain in Mexico, God spoke straight to my heart and evoked within me His love for humanity. The people that we coin as “the lost” became more than terminology or some abstract concept that we Christians throw around at Bible studies or mission conferences and going to the nations became more than a command. It became a little five year girl. Lost now had a name; it was Arelia. Lost had a smell and it was a mixture of dirt, sweat, and tortillas. Lost had a soft curious touch. The nations had a heartbeat and I could feel it rhythmically pulsate against my chest. Lost liked blueberry lollypops and in fact her tongue and lips were stained blue. So many times we think of Jesus’ command to share our faith as some kind of burden. Let me disagree with you completely. To forsake the so called American Dream, to give up your comfortable lifestyle of instant macaroni and cheese, to leave your family and everything you have ever known is hard and challenging but something happened in my heart as I gazed through those little fingers that were playing with my hair to those precious brown eyes…. In those eyes I found the purpose of my life… I was born to tell Lost that Jesus loves her… And whispering these three small words “Jésus te ama” in Arelia’s ear made everything I left behind in the land of hamburgers and movie stars no sacrifice at all. To share your faith is no burden at all but a privilege, great joy, and something I take very seriously. I know everyone reading this blog has a little Arelia in your life. You don’t have to go to a foreign country to find her. She might look different, talk different, act different, than my Lost but I bet if you look close enough you can find that same hunger and curiosity in your Arelia’s eyes that I saw. What is stopping you from whispering those same three little words in her ear? What is blocking you from being synced with the compassion God has for humankind? ... And Kelsey sang. It wasn’t her amazing voice, skillful hands, or the words of the song that awakened my spirit but it was the power behind the song; moreover, it was the God of the song. I know life is hard and your environment might not be conducive but I pray that your spirit would hear Kelsey’s song and first that you would rejoice in Our Maker and then that you would look at the little girl on your lap with Jesus’ eyes. Do you hear the music? Have you looked around? Believe me, lost is not some religious term. Lost has a name, a smell, a heartbeat….