Jenny Knox- My Corner of the World

My Contact Lenses

 

So at every STINT briefing, they warn you about “stint goggles”- the idea that you will go overseas single and become attracted to someone on your team that you would never otherwise even think about dating. It’s not that this person won’t be a great individual, but you’re on STINT, you’re options are limited and this person is passionate about Jesus, so of course, you will think it’s a great idea.

I think ICS is more like mono-vision contact lenses. Basically, the way they work is that in one eye, your contact lets you see distance, and in the other eye, the contact functions as reading glasses for things close up. But the cool thing is that our brains work in such a way, that you don’t even notice unless you cover one eye.

So in a sense, I now have an “American contact lens” and a “Sweden contact lens” and most days they blend together into a comprehensive, though broader picture of the world, both are part of my “life” and it works…

For example, every American, or at least every southerner knows what to do in warm weather. And every Swede knows what to do in below freezing temperatures. I read an article by a North Caroline news channel during the recent cold snap and laughed at their advice on how to deal with cold weather because the Sweden part of me knows that in cold weather (and snow) you just put on your jacket, get on your bike and go wherever you were heading regardless. So now, with my contact lenses, I’m good with both hot and cold weather and it works.

Or, how I now see both places as home- it’s easy to be there, comfortable and I like it. But at the same time neither place feels like home. In America, it’s loud, I don’t know why we need 20 kinds of bacon, and we clap. A lot. In Sweden, there’s almost always a rule for everything and I don’t know them. Or I meet with a student and tell her I’m going to pick up “Turkey,” the country rather than the food. Something like that happens on a daily (or hourly) basis because the moment I leave my room I could need to speak Swedish. I have two homes and yet I’m always a foreigner- but it works.

Or people… there are people in both places that I love and care deeply about, that I miss when I’m not wherever they are. And as long as I live here I will bounce back and forth- always being away from people I love. It’s not just that they are people who are part of my life and then I move and make new friends. They are people that are part of my life and I bounce back and forth. And yet, I’m never really understood by either group- there is always a part of me, a part of my life, that doesn’t compute or requires a lot of explanation and to be honest some days I just don’t want to explain any more. And so there is a third group of people- the other people who have contact lenses like me- maybe theirs read “America/Germany” or “America/Lebanon.” But they get it- they are also contact wearers and there isn’t as much explaining, but then I miss them too.

And then, there are the things that I close one eye on and see through only one contact lense…

Through my America “contact” I see things like: country ham- It will never be a part of my Sweden world (unless is comes in the mail and is savored for days), or college sports- specifically basketball, there is nothing comparable here and try as I might my roommates will still ask, “Wait, they show university sports on TV? Who cares?” and yet I love it and will get up at 3am for the UNC-Duke game!

Through my Sweden contact lens, I see that it’s only natural that children would dress up like cute witches on Easter and go around asking for candy. Or that having a “cozy” environment or evening, even if you are two dudes watching a movie, is one of the highest values and to be sought after. Or that having discipleship in the forest while picking mushrooms will lead to a more honest conversation than you might otherwise have.

But mostly, I love that the gospel is fuller and Christ is bigger because I get to see through both contacts lenses. Just small examples, but because I have an American lens, I see how important and Biblical it is that we value individuals’ uniqueness and God’s design in creating us differently in ways. We can, and should, rejoice over this because He loves to be creative and express his creativity. I also see that Jesus wasn’t afraid of strong words and as his followers we are called to speak boldly and yet graciously. I am reminded that I need to be willing to speak boldly about truth to non-believers and believers as well.

Because I have a Sweden lens, I understand more what it means to spend time with people and to enter into their lives. To spend hours together with nowhere else to be and to have a more practical example of what it means to be “with” others as Christ is “God with us.” Also, I understand on a whole different level what it means that Jesus is the light of the world. I thought I understood that before, but living in a city where it can be dark for 18 hours a day- light makes a difference-it changes everything. Every year you are reminded how important light is because in the winter you never really see clearly and then the sun begins to come back and it peeks out from behind a cloud and people stop in the street. They turn their faces towards the sun and enjoy. Christ is that light and living here I see more clearly what it means to turn my heart to Him.

The point with any kind of contacts is to help you see well, that you see more clearly with them than without. I hope and pray that becomes truer with my contacts. I love my contacts lenses. I like that I get to see the world through these lenses (and probably always will). There are plenty of days when it’s hard, when I’m tired of Sweden and when I’m tired of America. There are plenty of bittersweet tears when I miss people, and then I remember that Jesus also had contact lenses- his read more like “God/man.”

I can’t begin to imagine the “culture shock” He experienced. I wonder if those moments in the gospels when he says things like “Where is your faith?” and when he weeps over Jerusalem, if He was wishing those around him could see through his God contact lens? Or on the beach cooking those fish after his resurrection, I wonder if he was reveling having a man contact. I know my contacts don’t even begin to compare. But I am so thankful that he chose to come to earth and wear them.

~Jenny Knox
ICS Staff serving in Sweden

Lindsey Rhea- My Corner of the World

 

50 Men Crazy, then 50 Men Dead

I was watching a documentary the other day (I know, cool, right?) about Jamestown, one of America’s first colonies. You know, the one with John Smith and Pocahontas? I’m no history buff. In fact, in high school my AP European History teacher told me I was bad at remembering history. It was true. But, this documentary had a theory that because of a severe drought, the river that the colonists depended on became mixed with the ocean water. Many developed salt-water poisoning- a condition makes you go crazy with hallucinations, slowly and painfully shuts all your organs down, and kills you. They kept drinking the water, never satisfied, never realizing that it eventually would kill half the colony. 50 men crazy, then 50 men dead.

This last week has been like that for me. Okay, no death around here. But I feel like I am going crazy most days. To set the scene (just a disclaimer: I love my family and respect my husband immensely!): I have a “just turned three” year old girl who is also a tantrum thrower (h.o.l.y. c.o.w), a 1 ½ year old boy, a husband that is an MTL on campus by himself and gets unmotivated quickly, I’m leading a morning bible study with 8 girls, my house is always messy, and to top it off, my master bedroom isn’t the peaceful place it “should” be (read that in a book yesterday). Guilt. My husband has been discouraged because the weekly meeting numbers have been down, and we are thinking about taking a risk next semester and doing something totally different. And that is scary. Our marriage that is usually so life-giving to me has drained so much of my emotional capacity. Bubble baths don’t even help (now that is crazy, you know!?)

So, I want share my journal entry with you. I think most of us can relate in some way. I don’t know how long it had been since I had journaled… oh wait. June 12. Yikes. The performance sinner inside me wants to yell “JUST BECAUSE I DIDN’T JOURNAL DOESN’T MEAN I DIDN’T READ MY BIBLE OR PRAY, SO DON’T JUDGE ME SO QUICKLY!” Yeah, that is me smeared in sin. Okay, here goes…

“Dear Lord, I’m having a hard day. I feel on edge, short tempered, and angry. Show me what is going on in my heart. I can’t pinpoint a reason for this. What am I looking for right now? What am I not getting that I feel like I should? Anxiety is swallowing me, it feels. I’m on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. Am I living this life in a self-righteous way? Show me the root of this anxiety! Disbelief? Distrust? Despair? Emptiness? What is the opposite of despair? Hope? What is hope, really? What am I hoping for? What lie do I believe that if I could only achieve this, or have this, or be this, then I would be happy? Is it a break from my kids? Jeff? Responsibility? Housework?

Lord, forgive me for this! Forgive me for my idolatry. Forgive me for not being thankful, for my anger, for my self-reliance. Forgive me for trusting in myself. Forgive me for yelling at Faith. Forgive me for the pride of “controlling” my anger in the car. Help me! Teach me the gospel again. Show me how to live it- to live as though I am righteous in your eyes, but at the same time remembering that all the credit goes to Christ. Forgive me for not remembering Christ. Teach me to follow you better- as a mom, as a wife, as a homemaker, as a staff. I want to be steadfast. I crave it. Thank you for forgiving me and redeeming me. Love, Lindsey”

I’m trying to identify the salt-water in my life. When I feel like I’m going crazy, or slowly dying (okay, soooo overdramatic), I need to ask myself- “What is this idol that has such tight control over me that I can’t function anymore without it?” Preach to myself: Jesus gives life. Christ is living water. Anything other than Christ is deadly poison.

So I tell you this: Don’t be crazy. Don’t be dead. Don’t drink salt water.

~Lindsey Rhea
Cru Staff serving at ECU

Jenna Sherard- My Corner of the World

God is Bigger

They say that one sure way to know you’re a writer is if you’re always thinking some extraordinary thing is happening to you. As if you are the special one who gets to walk through life starting stories with, “You will not believe what happened to me this week… or yesterday…. or ten minutes ago.” This describes 90% of my conversations, and I think what this really means is that God has designed me with an inner drive to be a storyteller. You would think this would really benefit my two-year-old daughter Celia, but she usually gets some version of Little Pink Celia hood and the Big Good Wolf and that’s about as inspired as it gets.

The reality is that these days my life is filled with things that are quite ordinary like laundry and dishes and checking email to make sure I’m just minimally behind (not woefully late) in responding to people. And honestly, most days I search for the words to write something beautifully crafted. I started a novel once in college. Never finished and don’t know if I will. The thing is my characters can never live out what I once imagined them to become. Why? It’s because I’m different. I’m (semi if not firmly) rooted in reality now, and I don’t grieve the college girl who created an imaginary family and world for them to live in on the pages of a long abandoned manuscript. The thing is, I long to know the Creator more than I want to be creative. I know God can show me how those things are so intricately related, but for now I think He just wants me to be still. To rest in the truth of how small I am in light of the big story He is weaving together.

This doesn’t mean that I’ve stifled my story telling nature all together. I do, in fact, put a really intense spin on the events of our day when I give my husband Bobby the recap at supper each night. From what he is told, Celia is the fastest toddler to ever go flailing across Chick-fil-a at the most crowded lunch hour in history, while literal swarms of people stare with gaping mouths as her hugely pregnant mom bounds after her trying not to yell about getting Mr. Spanky (the spanking spoon) out of the diaper bag at any moment if she doesn’t stop (true story). And the little burn on my index finger turns into a second-degree scald as I recount how hot that plate of potatoes was as I retrieved it from the microwave. And the conversation with my kindred spirit best friend is relayed with as many interventions from the Holy Spirit as Jonah himself would have experienced in the belly of the great fish.

If I’m being really honest, the imaginary tea parties each day with Celia are actually pretty magical. (Her pretend cinnamon rolls are the best ever.) And God really can take mundane chores and give me great joy and purpose in them (cue Ann Voskamp blog music please), but it doesn’t look as noble as I once thought it would be. I don’t know where you are in your life these days. My guess is that you’re not living in some kind of creative state of bliss. (Maybe you are and if so, congrats and have one of Celia’s cinnamon rolls to celebrate.) But regardless of where you are it’s my prayer that you’ll be still in your reality and let God be better than your imagination. He has good stored up for us and he is a God who is “merciful, gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.” (Ps. 86:15). He is merciful when I don’t finish what I start. He is gracious when I seek to know Him better (and on days when I don’t). He is steadfast and faithful beyond anything my small mind could dream up and it makes me love him and worship with more vulnerability than I ever dreamed possible. Imagine that!!

Erin Smith- My Corner of the World

A Shelter in the Storm

July 29th is a day our family will never forget. It was a day that took us by surprise, the day we found out our pregnancy was in trouble and our son would be born in the next 24 hours. I was only 27 weeks pregnant and Harrison would be born at only 1 lb 8 oz.

As I think back on the emotional past 7 months, I’ve started to think about the day before that day. The day where everything was normal, where we were enjoying time vacationing with Josh’s family and taking in the beauty of Colorado. Except for the beginnings of a headache for me, it was a great, normal day. Josh, his brothers and his dad had gone out to play golf that afternoon but were driven inside by a sudden thunderstorm.

I had forgotten about that storm and really that whole normal “day before” until about a month ago. As I’ve revisited those days, I can’t help but be struck with what an interesting illustration that thunderstorm on July 28th was. Little did we know the storm that was coming our way the next day, and that that storm would continue in many ways through the next 3 months in the NICU. Those stormy days were scary. They were overwhelming at times. They were filled with the joy of holding our sweet child, but the heartbreak of leaving him at the hospital each night. Those days were not what we would’ve wished for, not how we wanted Harrison’s birth story to go. The storm came rolling in and we weren’t expecting it. But we were oh so thankful for our safe shelter.

One of the places in scripture I kept returning to during those Colorado days was Psalm 27. My friend Jeanette mailed me a devotional by Paul Tripp called “A Shelter in the Time of Storm” which walked through this Psalm. As literally everything around us seemed so scary and uncertain, what sweet promises these were to read. In verse 5 of the Psalm David writes, “For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will lift me high upon a rock.” One thing that struck me is how “in the day of trouble” is a given. To be honest, I probably skim over that reality, hoping trouble won’t happen to me. It is not an option of whether or not we will face trouble. David did and we will too, and sometimes, it will hit us out of nowhere. But what a beautiful promise in the midst of that hard reality. When those days happen, he will be our shelter. When things around are scary and uncertain, we are invited to run to him for protection, life and his very presence. As Tripp writes, “You can be sure of this- your day of trouble will come. Yet, in your trouble God hasn’t’ left you alone. What is it that he gives you in your trouble? He gives you himself! He is what will keep you safe.”

It’s been 7 months since that crazy July day, but even this long after, it is still hard many days to trust these promises. Before this pregnancy we had a miscarriage, as many of you know. So to lose that child and have so many days fearing the lost of this child, it has been an emotional roller coaster. Many days I do trust the Lord; some days it seems hard to do so and fear takes over. Some days I can fully rejoice and be in the moment just enjoying Harrison. Some days I still look back with lots of mourning at the path God had us walk. But I am so comforted by the fact that whatever emotion the day holds, God hasn’t left me to walk through it alone. He is with me.

Thank you again for your prayers these past 7 months for our family. We have felt so loved, encouraged and lifted up by you. As for an update on Harrison, he is doing well! He weighs 11 lb 12 oz as of his last check up. His lungs are doing great, developmentally he is where he should be and doctors are giving him good reports! One thing we would love your prayers for is his little digestive track. He is meeting with a GI specialist and nutritionist to try to figure out why he isn’t tolerating the solids we’ve tried to feed him so far. They don’t seem overly concerned but we’d love to see this issue resolved soon so he can keep gaining weight well. Thanks again for your prayers MidSouth family!

Kitty Hurdle- My Corner of the World

Here’s another story from a staff woman serving in the MidSouth Region. Kitty Hurdle and her husband, Joel, serve as missionaries with Cru in the Greek System at the University of South Carolina. She has enjoyed being on staff for 7 years.

Who’s Parade is it Anyway?

Tender. Humble. Broken. Disappointed. Sad. Shocked. Frustrated. Weak.

I’ve spent the majority of my life avoiding these yucky words.

My upbringing and relationships were lovingly functional, my goals were being accomplished, I was following God and life was good.

In the back of my mind, I sometimes wondered when things would come crashing down in my happy little world…but I’d dismiss those thoughts with the remembrance that ‘God only gives grace for today,’ and ‘the future is in His hands.’

About 2 years ago, God began to allow some of those yucky words to enter my “semi-charmed kind of life”. It started like slow drizzle on a cloudy day.

Little annoyances with broken down cars, Joel having surgery, Bible study leaders smoking weed in front of their sorority house, parents of a new convert showing anger toward us, cockroaches crawling in our HVAC, catching on fire and blowing up the motherboard, etc. You know! Every day drizzle. But the drizzle was beginning to turn into rain and it was really messing with my parade.

Joel and I knew God was leading us to start a family, but it just didn’t seem to be actualizing. We would cycle from hope to disappointment and back again. As the days and months and now 2 years passed, we experienced great sadness and frustration with God, who we knew was allowing and controlling our circumstances.

Little did we know there were thunderstorms in the forecast.

We were on Greek Summit in May and were playing beach volleyball during the last full day of project, when both a strong 20-year-old frat guy and weak-old-me went for the same volleyball. The kid slammed into me so hard that I literally went flying across the sand. I felt immediate pain in the shoulder I had been working so hard to re-hab all semester. I felt relief that, “Okay, my rotator cuff is shot and I’ll get a quick surgical procedure and move on.” We packed our bags and headed back to Columbia, just in time for my doctor’s appointment.

Two days later, I am sitting on the crunchy paper-covered table facing a white-faced doctor, a crying nurse, and a very ominous x-ray. My orthopedic surgeon’s best guess was Ewing Sarcoma, which was a very life-threatening bone cancer. They immediately got me into a world-class orthopedic oncologist, who normally has a 3 month wait merely 2 days later.

I can remember those 2 days of waiting were a torrential downpour. Lots of tears and pain. It was the kind of pain that literally made your heart ache. I just remember thinking “our charmed life is over.”  And I remember God saying to me, “this is my love for you.”

Fast forward (or read all these blog posts) through a life-threatening allergic reaction during a core biopsy (think hammer and apple-corer through your bicep and humerus bone) and I was left downright afraid of God who was supposedly showing His “love” toward me.

I stood in church that next Sunday as the crowd around me sang, “Take My Life and Life and Let it be Whole Consecrated, Lord to Thee…” I refused to sing with them and thought to myself. “What idiots. Do they understand that You could actually take their lives in one instant?” He answered me tenderly, “Yes. But do you understand that the tumor, the near-death experience, etc... is my love for you? Do you trust Me?”

In that instant, the Holy Spirit flooded my heart with peace and confidence that, YES! Pain and sorrow and sucky, scary circumstances are filtered through a loving a trustworthy Father’s hands. They are being worked together for good and I must choose to embrace them. I melted into tears/worship as again I surrendered my life here on earth into God’s hands.

Another surgery, bone-graft, and 3 weeks of being blacked-out on pain meds (which have AWFUL side effects…not sure why people use drugs for fun…) and 3 weeks of resting recovery, I was tumor-free and fixed up with a new bone.

The emotions of the whole experience intertwined with the painful journey of infertility surface regularly. Joel and I have been daily learning what it looks like to live a life of trust: believing that tenderness, humility, brokenness, disappointment, sadness, shock, frustration and weakness, are tools in the hands of our sanctifying Savior who is “cutting off every branch in us that bears no fruit and is pruning every branch that does bear fruit so it will be even more fruitful! …and THIS is to my FATHER’S glory that you bear much fruit, showing yourself to be my disciple!” (John 15)

We have been learning that nothing is wasted in God’s Kingdom. No time, no waiting, no experience, no pain, no tears, no joy. Nothing is wasted. Nothing. I MEAN, WHO’S PARADE IS IT ANYWAY? Surely it’s not MY parade. It’s HIS!! The faster I/we grasp that all our hopes and dreams aren’t in this life…the better off I’ll/we’ll be.

"How long, O Lord, must I call for help?

The Lord replied, "Look at the nations and be amazed!  Watch and be astounded at what I will do!  For I am doing something in your own day, something you wouldn't believe even if someone told you about it....But these things I plan won't happen right away.

Slowly, steadily, surely, the time approaches when the vision will be fulfilled.  If it seems slow, wait patiently, for it will surely take place.  IT WILL NOT BE DELAYED."

I have heard all about you, Lord, and I am filled with awe by the amazing things you have done.  In this time or our deep need, begin again to help us, as you did in years gone by.  Show us your power to save us.

I see God, the Holy One, moving across the deserts...His brilliant splendor fills the heavens, and the earth is filled with His praise!  What a wonderful God He is!  Rays of brilliant light flash from his hands.  He rejoices in His awesome power.

Even though the fig trees have no blossoms, and there are no grapes on the vine; even though the olive crop fails, and the fields lie empty and barren; even though the flocks die in the fields, and the cattle barns are empty, yet I will rejoice in the Lord!  I will be joyful in the God of my salvation.  The Sovereign Lord is my strength!  He will make me as surefooted as a deer and bring me safely over the mountains." --Habakkuk

Suffering is a great tutor. It teaches real lessons and takes away all the illusions of the world. Without the test, there is no testimony and without the rain there are no flowers!

There is so much more I could share, and if you’re even still reading, HIGH FIVE!

What about you?  Have you experienced this?  Have you experienced what it means to be broken?  Have you allowed God to transform you as a result of your brokenness?  Have you experienced freedom?

Nancy Guthrie in “Holding Onto Hope” says, “Embracing my grief means allowing it to do its work in me.” Rather than running from or trying to ignore your grief, would you lean into it? Would you allow it to accomplish its healing work in your heart?

“Your most profound and intimate experiences of worship will likely be in your darkest days – when your heart is broken, when you feel abandoned, when you’re out of options, when the pain is great – and you turn to God alone.” ~Rick Warren

My Corner of the World

We’re starting a new regular series of posts for staff women to share their individual perspectives and experience of life. We hope that you are encouraged to hear from women in different stages of life, different countries, and different experiences. We pray that you are encouraged by how the Lord is working in their lives and we ask you to pray for them as well.

We would love for you to contribute to this series of posts. If you would like to write something then please email your submission to Erin.Mullis@uscm.org.

We’re going to begin this series with a story from Rene Foth who spent the summer on Project in Argentina with her family. Rene is married to Nathan and has two daughters, Anabelle and Elianna.

"He no get one" Anabelle exclaimed, running after an Argentine who had ignored the flyer she was helping Nathan hand out. "Come back, dear" Nathan shouted, running after Anabelle. "Not everyone wants one--we're just inviting them to come". Nathan was feeling under the weather, so Rene brought the girls to the playground across the street from campus. While Nathan watched Anabelle and Elianna play, Rene went sharing on campus. When Anabelle got bored of the playground, Nathan had an idea. "Anabelle, do you want to help daddy hand out flyers?"
"Yes! I help you!" Anabelle said enthusiastically.

So Nathan and Anabelle passed out flyers for an evangelistic event we had on June 10--"Why does God allow suffering?". Our summer project invited students from the six campuses we're focusing on to come and engage on why there is suffering in the world--something to which many Argentines can relate. Most students were glad to take a flyer from a smiling, vivacious little girl in pig-tails (especially when Anabelle ran after them holding it out expectantly--Nathan had to chase her down several times and remind her to stay close to him).