"the eyes are the mirror of the soul"

This past weekend I read a newspaper article written by an atheist about the need for God in the African nations. Ironic? I thought so. Anyway, one thing he wrote that specifically resonated with me was his observation of the distinct difference seen in the eyes of those who had been set free. Growing up in Africa and returning for an extensive visit, this man spent enough time with the native people to be able to recognize a follower of Christ by the literal light beheld in their eyes. It only took me 3 weeks to observe exactly what he was referring to.

By traveling to two different nations in Africa, I have had the unique opportunity to compare and contrast my experiences. Considering the fact that Senegal is primarily a Muslim nation and Uganda is a Christian nation..the differences were numerous and blatant. But despite the prevalence of diversity between the two, one differentiation stands out to me clearer than all the rest: their eyes.

When you look into the eyes of a Senegalese child who has yet to be set free from the shackles of tradition and religion, you see a startling absence of anything. There is nothing there-a complete lack of hope, ambition, purpose, and future. The first time I gazed into the eyes of one of these precious babies, it took my breath away. The desperation and longing for anything with which to fill their hearts is overpowering. It was the most lucid portrayal of someone who is truly lost that I have have ever seen. Heartbreaking.

In contrast, there are the children in Uganda who have met and fallen in love with Jesus. It is in their eyes where you can see the joy, vibrancy, and light that so many visitors have credited to the African people. Simply making eye contact with one of these children that have joined the kingdom can spark an inspiration that is truly divine.I have been privileged enough to see firsthand that freedom is not seen in only unshackled hands, the signing of the Declaration of Independence, or the release of a prisoner, but in the very eyes of these beautiful African children.

Upon returning to the states, I realized that though it may not be as blatant as in the African children, we too have eyes that mirror our souls. Because our identities have been so skewed by our society, we as Americans tend to veil our vulnerability when we interact with those around us, which includes replacing the transparency of our eyes with opaqueness. Nevertheless, with intent scrutiny one can see past that shield and pure into the very soul of a person. In my interaction with the homeless population of our nation I have seen that same desperation and voidness that plagues the Senegalese children. Among the same people I have joyously recognized the light that I saw in Uganda as well.

I personally think God has given us a peek into the depths of those around us, to maybe get a glimpse of what he sees when he looks at his precious children. It gives the concept of asking to see what God sees a whole new (and more practical) meaning. So it is our responsibility as followers of Christ to seek out those who are broken, hopeless, and empty, and shed God's light into their lives. That means looking past their outer appearance, whether it's that off dirt and rags or a three-piece suit, and searching out their souls through the peephole that God has allowed us.

Ask God to open your eyes.

What's so wrong with a smile?

A random memory came to mind today. It was one of those thoughts that literally pops into your head, and is completely unrelated to your surroundings..and it was a funny one, so it made me chuckle out loud, which led to that awkward feeling you have when you are sitting completely alone, just laughing to yourself. You know what I'm referring to, we've all done it. Anyways..the memory:

hen I was about 8 years old, my aunt asked me to be a flower girl in her wedding. Naturally, I was ecstatic-what little girl doesn't dream of being a part of a seemingly magical and surreal event like a wedding? Plus, she promised me a gift of stick-on earrings, and I got the pleasure of gloating to my brother about the fact that I was actually in the wedding procession, while he got stuck with "helping" with the sound system. What's not to love? As I was getting dressed in my frilly, green dress, that my darling mother had so painstakingly sewn, I had to admit that I had never looked quite so beautiful. I'm pretty positive that I actually convinced myself I was even comparable to the bride herself (humility was a fairly unfamiliar concept to 8-year Britni)! Finally, the time came to strut my stuff down that aisle. I stepped into line and put my game face on. However, as soon as I took in the fact that I would literally have the eyes of seemingly thousands of strange people all on me, I panicked. To my dismay,during my entire 2 minutes of fame I was making the most distorted faces that I could muster. The only thought running through my scattered mind was "whatever you do Britni, DON'T smile!" I puffed out my cheeks, frowned, bit my lip..anything to prevent even the slightest grin from escaping. Looking back at this mess of a performance, I have to wonder what on earth my reasoning could have been. Even later during the ceremony, the realization of what I had done sunk in. To this day, I don't know what could have accounted for the sudden imitation of a puffer fish that appeared on my face, other than some crazy antic of an 8 year old girl.

But remembering this incident got me thinking...why don't we let our beauty show? Now there are the obvious reasons such as the influence of our society on the perception of female "beauty," which deters women from exposing any beauty that doesn't align with the "standard." But I have to conclude that it runs deeper than that. There is beauty in kindness, in compassion, and in reaching out to others..but I sometimes find myself actually afraid of acting out those virtues. During a conversation I had with a couple friends this past month, we laughed (with some shame) at the fact that we were actually nervous to give a stranger a compliment. When really the probable response would be one of gratitude, and we could possibly be brightening their day on top of that. Why do we hesitate? I have to wonder if that is one of Satan's trickiest ploys, in his attempt to squelch the love of God. When we mask our beauty with coldness, humor, emotion, or whatever else, we are in a sense preventing a further sharing of God's love.
So, why?
Unfortunately, I don't have the answer. I am obviously just as guilty as the next person. But, I encourage you to ask the Lord to unveil your beauty, and be obedient in allowing him to do so. I guarantee most people in this world would much rather see your smile than your best imitation of a sea creature. :)

need.

I have come to a conclusion as of late:

We confuse conveniences as necessities, and get so caught up in those conveniences that we lack the very things that are actually necessary. We have convinced ourselves that we need whatever is within our reach, whatever is available and accessible considering where we stand in relation to said “necessity.”

According to our tainted line of thought, we need to live ‘comfortably,’ with all the latest amenities. A hot shower, an expansive array of options to choose from for dinner, and easy internet access have become the bare essentials in our society. Our cabinets must be shelved with matching dishware, the hum of a washer and dryer must be purring in the background, and our closets must be stocked with at least enough pairs of shoes to coincide with our different types of attire, in order for us to be comfortably getting by.

This is by no means an attempt to incite feelings of guilt or shame for what we have. In fact, it’s really not about material possessions at all, whether you have a scarcity or surplus. I mean to open our eyes to what is really essential, what we actually need to live the life we were intended to live.

I believe that there are many things in this world, especially in the US, that making living more comfortable and even pleasant and God enjoys blessing his children with those things. However, we too easily fall into the deception that those blessings are necessary for our survival. Naturally, if I were to ask myself if I need my cell phone, laptop, bed, and wardrobe to survive I would say no without any hesitation. But how easily would I really be willing to part with those things? In my mind, I have developed a need for them, a need that should be reserved for whatever it is that I actually thrive on as a human being and as a child of God.

So what is it that we are over-looking, that we actually genuinely need to be who we were created to be?

We need a living relationship with our Creator.

We need love.

We need purpose.

We need grace.

We need fellowship and relationship.

We need joy.

We need rest.

We need passion.

We need growth.

Jesus, forgive us for living by the standards of this world and for not allowing you to give us complete nourishment through your Word. Open our eyes to see what we truly need, and help us to thirst for it.

Where I left my heart...

It occurred to me today that I don’t talk about Africa anymore.

I think that’s mostly due to the fact that I got so fed up with people bringing back pitiful stories of how the people were so desolate andhopeless, and as Americans it is our responsibility to feel sorry for them. My criticism of those ‘testimonies’ influenced my desire to share MY experience there, when it should have sparked an even stronger desire to speak of the people, the land, and the heart. I owe it to Joseph, Esther, Prossy, the Wolof people, Terah, Deborah, Barbara, Simon, Rose, Peace, Faith, Maureen, the hospital patients, the prisoners, and the churches. These precious people deserve to have their story told, and as I have the means to tell it, it is my responsibility to open my mouth. With me keeping silent, for my selfish, foolish reasons, I am discrediting who they are, and what God has done in me and shown me through them.
Father, forgive me.

Joseph-the most beautiful baby boy I have ever laid eyes on. When all the other children came rushing forward to mob us upon every arrival, this sweet one was left peeking around the doorway, too timid to assume any of my team would want to love on him. It was this bashful demeanor that drew me to him instantly. It just took one glance for me to fall in love with this boy, and after throwing my arms around him he grabbed my hand and didn’t let go for the next week and a half. As we explored the orphanage grounds, something about Joseph caught my attention: content and good natured as he was, he rarely ever had a smile on his dear little face. This troubled me, and I wondered what was going on behind the scenes to inflict such a somber personality in this innocent child. The true testament of the joy of the Lord played out as on one of the last days of our trip, I witnessed Joseph doubled over in sweet, untainted laughter as I discovered his most ticklish spot. Tears of joy rushed down his face until they met what I will always remember to be one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen: the most striking and gigantic smile a boy that size could muster.

God IS love.

Sometimes I wonder just how much I truly love God. Yes, I am immensely grateful for who he is and what he has done for me. Yes, I am aware that he created my very being, knows my every thought, and has perfectly ordained every minute of my future. Yes, I realize that he is the Mighty King and Ruler over all, is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent...
But do I love him?
This leads me to reflect on who I know that I love: I love my family, my friends, each person I have met on the street, the people of Africa, children, and the elderly. This morning it hit me: what I love about those people is God in them. I love having intimacy and understanding with my family, which comes from a God who knows my very core and gave me a family I could relate to. I love having fun and fellowship with my friends, which comes from a God who loves to see me laugh and knows exactly when I need encouragement. I love restoring value and worth to the people I serve on the streets, which comes from a God who has instilled a burning passion within me to love the unloved. I love the pure and unpolluted joy of the African people, which comes from a God who is the source of a supernatural joy that outlasts any situation. I love the uninhibited curiosity and innocent heart of a child, which comes from a God who is pure of heart and untainted by the world. I love the wisdom and sincerity of the elderly, which comes from a God who is the Father of time, the Alpha and Omega.
1 John 4:7-8 Dear Friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because
God is love.

guilty as charged

Our fingers are stained crimson from thousands of lives lost. Babies taken before they were given the chance to live, genocides wiping out staggering numbers of innocent men, women, and children who were people just like us, close friends pulling that fatal trigger after convincing themselves that no one cares, the list continues... But how are we the ones caught red-handed? We have a powerful tool at our disposal that is tragically under-utilized: a voice. We must speak out against the dark powers of this world-letting the overwhelming love of God flow through our very mouths, shedding light on the darkest secrets of mankind. We must use our voices to speak on behalf of those who have been told that their words have no value, of those who have a voice but have given up or forgotten how to use it. "With great power comes great responsibility." We have been given the power to proclaim victory over the schemes of the devil, to pour truth into the lives of the deceived, and to coat every cruel and vicious word with the redeeming love of Christ. With that power comes a pressing responsibility: Speak up. The ends of the earth should be echoing with our cries against injustice, our pleas for peace and our declarations of Truth. Esther 4:14 "For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father's family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?"

the song that never ends

It's been a few months since my last blog..which I have decided really isn't healthy-blogging is good for my soul.

Isn't it interesting how God works, teaching us the same lessons time and time again..its a wonder he doesn't get bored with his children sometimes--just another display of his affectionate love.
How absurd is it that in the few months since I have been back in Eugene, it seems I have almost completely lost sight of the life-changing revelations I shared in my last blog. Absurd, and absolutely aggravating. It makes me long to walk in the shoes of Paul, David, James...any of those who seemingly had it all together for at least a majority of the time. I just want to know HOW. How do I grasp these discoveries God reveals to me enough to implement them into my day to day life..so that when he wants to reveal to me something further, I am ready to receive it? God tells me to let go, and let Him. But how? Am I making things more complicated than need be? Knowing my over-analytical self, that's probably the case. :) But it is frustrating nonetheless.
Recently He has taken me to further depths of understanding my identity, in a more practical sense. Despite (or possibly because of it?) my lack of self-discipline in pursuing the identity he had been revealing to me, he apparently is taking a new approach. In the past month or so, the things I had previously found most of my self-worth and value in have been ripped out from beneath me. For the first time in my life, I am not considering an athlete. For the first time in my life, school doesn't come easy to me..and my grades are less than commendable. For the first time in my life, I have been really skeptical of my chances of the man to marry. Every pitiful thing offered by this world that I have been so desperately clinging to is being ripped from my white-knuckled fist.
What's left? Just me. Broken and naked-a crystal clear depiction of heart-wrenching humility.

But I guess that's right where God wants me, huh?