Dependence - La dependencia

It's been a while. In my defense, we've been busy. I've also been lazy. And jealous with my free time. But there are a few thoughts that have been kicking around in my head for some time and I'm thinking it's about time I got some of that out.

It's about dependence. The word makes me think of adult diapers, of development theories, of paying for a kid for eighteen years.... In my mind, those aren't particularly positive images, and yet I'm pretty sure that God is calling me to greater dependence. On Him, on the body, on everyone but myself.
Time for some more confessions: I'm kind of a control freak. I like to be able to take care of my own things. I like things done a certain way. I like what I like.
Dependence is pretty much the opposite of that. Dependence means I have to talk to a team before I act on something. It means that I have to let things happen the way they happen. It means I have to let go and go along for the ride. It means trusting.
The Bible talks a lot about depending on God, about reliance on Him, about trusting. I've mentioned before that I'm bad at faith, and that makes dependence equally difficult. Dependence, I'm pretty sure, is an extension of faith.
So here I am, learning how to depend when I've spent so long learning to be independent (Doesn't that sound nice? Like Fourth of July picnics and the freedom of long drives on the highway?). And here's the other thing: God doesn't want that pretty word for me; it was never His intention. No, He wants adult diapers, development theories, and the economic burden of a child. This is where I need to be. Dependent.
Dependent on His wisdom, His perfect timing, His provision. Dependent on the body of believers (that's almost more terrifying). Dependent on a team and a church and the mercy of strangers. And it's hard; I won't even try to pretend that it's not.
But there are all these reminders:

When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.
In God, whose word I praise—
in God I trust and am not afraid.
What can mere mortals do to me?
--Psalm 56:3-4

But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
--Psalm 13:5

Some trust in chariots and some in horses,
but we trust in the name of the LORD our God.
--Psalm 20:7

Trust in the LORD with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight.
--Proverbs 3:5-6

So this is what I'm trying to remember, what I'm trying to lean on, so that I will learn to let go and depend.


Ha pasado mucho tiempo desde la última vez que escribí aquí. Hemos estado ocupados. También he estado medio vaga. Y celosa con mi tiempo libre. Pero he estado pensando en unas cosas por unas semanas y creo que es tiempo de escribirlas.
Se trata de la dependencia. La palabra me hace pensar en pañales para adultos, en teorías de desarrollo, en criar un hijo.... Para mí, estas no son imágenes positivas, y aún así, estoy segura que Dios me está llamando a mayor dependencia. Depender de Él, del cuerpo de Cristo, de todos menos de mí misma.
Otra confesión: Me gusta estar en control. Me gusta el poder valerme por mí misma. Me gusta que las cosas se hagan de cierta forma. Me gusta lo que me gusta.
La dependencia es básicamente lo contrario a eso. Dependencia quiere decir que tengo que hablar con el equipo antes de tomar una decisión. Quiere decir que tengo que dejar que las cosas pasen como pasen. Quiere decir que tengo que soltar las riendas y dejarme llevar. Quiere decir confiar.
La Biblia habla mucho de depender de Dios, de confiar en Él. He mencionado que tengo poca fe, y eso hace que la dependencia sea igual de difícil. Estoy casi segura que la dependencia es una extensión de la fe.
Y ahora aquí estoy yo, aprendiendo a depender después de pasar tantos años aprendiendo a vivir independientemente (Qué palabra linda, ¿no? Me suena a celebraciones para el cuatro de julio y manejar en la autopista). También hay esto: Dios no quiere esa palabra linda para mí; esa nunca fue su intención. No. Él quiere pañales da adultos, teorías de desarrollo y la carga económica de un niño. Así es que tengo que estar. Dependiente.
Dependiendo de su sabiduría, su tiempo perfecto, su provisión. Dependiendo del cuerpo de creyentes (eso me asusta aún más). Dependiente de un equipo y de una iglesia y de la misericordia de personas desconocidas. Y eso es difícil, no se los voy a negar.
Pero Dios me recuerda:

En el día que temo,
Yo en ti confío.
En Dios alabaré su palabra;
En Dios he confiado; no temeré;
¿Qué puede hacerme el hombre?
--Salmo 56:3-4

Mas yo en tu misericordia he confiado;
Mi corazón se alegrará en tu salvación.
--Salmo 13:5

Estos confían en carros, y aquéllos en caballos;
Mas nosotros del nombre de Jehová nuestro Dios tendremos memoria.
--Salmo 20:7

Fíate de Jehová de todo tu corazón,
Y no te apoyes en tu propia prudencia.
Reconócelo en todos tus caminos,
Y él enderezará tus veredas.
--Proverbios 3:5-6

Y esto es lo que tengo que recordar, en esto tengo que confiar, para que pueda aprender a soltar las riendas y simplemente depender.

Missing

I'm writing this at the risk of getting comments saying that I should be more grateful, that I should pray more, that this is what I should've expected, but I feel the need to struggle through this, and the best way for me to do that is through writing. So, before I begin, let me just say that I'm not looking for pity, that I'm not being ungrateful, that I realize that the work we're doing is work we were called to do. There's no doubt that this is where I'm supposed to be, but that doesn't mean it's easy.

Today I'm missing some aspects of my old life. Those of you who know me know that I'm what people would define as "girly" - a word I don't really like. That means I like skirts and heels and dislike playing competitive sports and hiking. I don't like the feeling of isolation I get when I'm living in the country. I know a lot of people like it - the peace and quiet of it, the easy stillness - but I am not one of those people. I like the movement and noise of the city, the sprawl of the suburbs. I like to know that I am never far from a crowd, from the convenience of a late night visit to Target. The fact that I'm here, in the rural mountains of Costa Rica, is a testament to the strength of God's call. I would never have chosen this for myself.

And like I said, that's not always easy. Maybe it's because I've been sick since last Saturday, maybe it's because we were just with a large group of people who are now gone, maybe it's because we don't have Internet or an office and I feel more disconnected than I'd like, but this week has been rough for me personally.

This week I'm missing.

• Hot showers.
• Hot water in the sink.
• Heat, in general.
• Cell signal in my town.
• Easy communication - mail service, telephone, tv, Internet, a radio signal....
• Watching tv shows on Hulu in bed.
• Talking to my besties and my family.
• Spontaneity.
• Automatic transmissions.
• A car with doors I can open without having to put all my weight into them.
• Diversity in food.
• Delivery pizza - shoot, I'd settle for frozen.
• 8-9 hour work days.
• A weekend that's a weekend. 
• Date nights with Ben.
• Choices.
• A pay check.

And because I hate to be the girl who can only talk about the things that are not easy, I will say that I do, generally, like it here.  I like that even though it's pretty cold today, at least it's not snow inducing cold.  I love that I look out my windows to see the view of a volcano.  

I like the work we're doing.  I like the people I work with.  I love teaching, and I especially love that I still enjoy it after feeling so jaded and burnt out on teaching in the States.  

I love that God is teaching me that I have never actually been able to provide money and food for myself, and that He's still doing a great job of providing all I could ever need.  I love that He's opened the doors so that we can have a place to live (free in exchange for repairs of earthquake damage).  I love that He's showing me to depend on Him and His people in ways I've never had to before.  I love that He's teaching me so much.  The learning may not be easy, but it's worthwhile.  The work is worthwhile.  The long days and long weeks are worthwhile.  

I believe that with everything in me, and I believe that God is in the midst of this missing, but even so, today I am missing.  

Mark 9 moments - Momentos Marcos 9

"...But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.”
“‘If you can’?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for one who believes.”
Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”
-- Mark 9: 22b-24

If it were up to Ben, this blog would be little more than pictures. But then he made the mistake of inviting me to blog with him. I like words. I like them a lot and sometimes pictures just aren't enough to share what's going on here. Sometimes we need some words.

The words above have been echoing in my head for the past, oh, seven years. Let me just go ahead and say that faith is not an easy thing for me. It's a beautiful, necessary, and stunning thing, but it is far from easy. I like concrete things: people, puppies, food, words on a page; these are things I can wrap my mind around and understand. Faith? That's invisible and I don't get it. Which is not to say that I don't have any, I'm just not moving mountains.

When we were getting ready to come to Costa Rica, these words seemed to ring more truly. I mean, there we were, leaving secure, well-paying jobs and selling off everything we had to move our lives to the Costa Rican countryside. I'm not even remotely outdoorsy and I was signing on for life in the middle of nowhere. Oh, and no guarantee of a steady income.

Confession: once, when we paid our credit card bill after buying tickets for a vacation to Turkey, and I saw that our bank balance was low, I actually hyperventilated. There is something about having that buffer of savings that makes me feel ridiculously secure. As if that could save me from anything really devastating, but there you go. That's me and my little faith.

Now we're here in Costa Rica and we're not working as supported missionaries. We're knocking on doors and asking if there's space for us at the inn - or something to that effect. I'll be honest: money is a concern. To quote Kanye West: "Money's not everything, not having it is". There are a lot of us working with ADE and there's not a whole lot of cash flowing here, and yet, there are bills to be paid and mouths to feed. Oh, and people that need housing. There's that, too. This may be the first time in my life where I've ever felt so insecure in my own ability to take care of myself. There's not much of a savings buffer for the organization. But here's the amazing thing: just when I'm freaking out that we won't be able to do anything, God shows me that I'm right. And then He moves.

Y'all, I'm not going to say it's easy, because that would be a lie and I'm a bad liar, but being helped with unbelief takes a step out into the unknown. I can't tell you how many sermons I've heard about Peter walking on water and how important it was for him to step out of the boat, but I don't think I've ever stepped out of a real boat before. I mean, I've stepped out of kayaks when I've been close to shore, but this experience? This feels like I'm jumping off a cruise ship in the middle of the sea. What I see is God helping my unbelief.

I always imagine Jesus talking to that man in Mark 9 and being a little sarcastic about things: "If I can?" I imagine that he's thinking "Dude, clearly you don't know who I am." And now I think he's saying that to me in pretty much that same tone, because He knows I need a little sarcasm from Him. We're asking the impossible, and I'm hoping against hope because the faith thing is so scary and invisible and just weird, and He's all like, "Sit back, Frances Joy, because this is Me showing you just a taste of what I can do."

Thank God for that. Thank God that Jesus is so much more and so much more patient than I could ever imagine. Thank God that He doesn't write me off because I'm an unbelieving mess. Thank God that He shows up and does the impossible at just the right moment. Thank God that He is helping me with my unbelief.

And these are but the outer fringe of his works;
how faint the whisper we hear of him!
Who then can understand the thunder of his power?
-- Job 26:14

"...Pero si tú puedes hacer algo, ten misericordia de nosotros y ayúdanos.
Jesús le dijo: "¿Cómo si tú puedes?" Todas las cosas son posibles para el que cree.
Al instante el padre del muchacho gritó y dijo: Creo; ayúdame en mi incredulidad.”
-- Marcos 9: 22b-24

Si fuera por Ben, este blog tendría fotos nada más. Pero él cometió el error de invitarme a participar en este blog también. A mí me gustan las palabras. Mas bien, me encantan y a veces fotos no son suficientes como para compartir lo que estamos viviendo aquí. A veces son necesarias las palabras.

Las palabras de Marcos 9 han estado retumbando en mi cabeza por los últimos siete años. Déjenme serles franca: la fe no es algo fácil para mí. Es una cosa hermosa, necesaria e impresionante, pero no es fácil. Me gustan las cosas concretas: personas, perritos, comida, palabras en una hoja de papel; éstas son las cosas que entiendo. ¿La fe? La fe es invisible y no la logro comprender. Con eso no quiero decir que no tengo fe, tan solo que aún no estoy moviendo montañas.

Mientras nos preparábamos para venir a Costa Rica, estas palabras me sonaban más y más urgentemente. Ahí estábamos, dejando trabajos seguros que pagaban bien y vendiendo todo lo que teníamos para trasladarnos a las montañas costarricenses. Ni me interesa la naturaleza y me estaba comprometiendo a una vida en el medio del campo. Oh, y sin garantía de que podríamos ganar dinero para vivir.

Les voy a confesar: antes de irnos a Turquía de vacaciones, pagamos la tarjeta de crédito y al ver que la cuenta bancaria se había quedado sin muchos fondos, por poco me desmayo. Cuando tengo dinero en la cuenta de ahorros, siento una seguridad casi ridícula. Ni que el dinero me podiera salvar de algo verdaderamente catastrófico, pero así soy yo. Mujer de poca fe.

Ahora estamos aquí en Costa Rica y no llegamos como misioneros que reciben fondos de sus iglesias allá en EEUU. Nosotros estamos tocando puertas y preguntando a ver si hay espacio en la posada - o algo así. Les voy a ser honesta: me preocupa el dinero. En las palabras de Kanye West: "El dinero no es todo, el no tenerlo sí". Somos muchos los que trabajamos con ADE, y no hay mucho dinero por aquí. Aún así, hay cuentas que pagar y estómagos que llenar. Oh, y también necesitamos casa. Otra preocupación. Creo que ésta es la primera vez en toda mi vida que me he sentido tan insegura en mi habilidad de cuidarme. No hay mucho dinero en la cuenta de ahorros de ADE. Pero aquí es que vemos algo increíble: en el momento en que yo me asusto que no vamos a poder hacer nada, Dios me muestra que tengo razón. Y entonces es que Él obra.

No les voy a decir que es fácil, porque eso sería una mentira, y soy muy mala para mentir, pero para que el Señor me ayude con mi incredulidad, tengo que tomar un paso al desconocido. No les puedo decir cuántas prédicas he escuchado sobre Pedro caminando sobre las aguas y cuán importante fue el hecho de que Pedro saliera del barco, pero yo no creo que he salido de un barco antes. Digo, he salido de un kayak cuando estaba cerca a la orilla, pero ¿ahora? Ahora siento que estoy saltando de un crucero al mar abierto. Lo que veo es que Dios me está ayudando con mi incredulidad.

Siempre me imagino que cuando Jesús le habló a ese hombre en Marcos 9 que fue un poco sarcástico: "Como 'si tú puedes'?" Me imagino que Él estará pensando: "Nene, se nota que no me conoces." Y ahora creo que me lo está diciendo a mí, y en ese mismo tono porque Él sabe que necesito de Su sarcasmo. Les estamos pidiendo lo imposible y yo estoy nerviosa y media incrédula porque el tema de la fe me da miedo y además es invisible y un poco raro, y Él me dice, "Siéntate Frances Joy, porque por aquí vengo yo para que veas sólo un poco de lo que puedo hacer."

Gracias a Dios por eso. Gracias a Dios que Jesús es mucho más y mucho más paciente de lo que yo me puedo imaginar. Gracias a Dios que Él no me deja a un lado porque soy una pobre incrédula. Gracias a Dios que Él llega y hace lo imposible en el momento preciso. Gracias a Dios que Él me ayuda con mi incredulidad.

He aquí, estos son los bordes de sus caminos;
¡y cuán leve es la palabra que de El oímos!
Pero su potente trueno, ¿quién lo puede comprender?
-- Job 26:14