When you wonder if you measure up

The chairs were arranged in an inviting circle and the coffee was sputtering cozily in the corner. On the door was a sign saying "Welcome to the 24-hour prayer meeting"

I walked around, fluffing pillows and making sure that the keyboard was plugged in. I checked my watch: 5:34. Maybe they're all still getting off work. 

Over seventy people had been invited, but I knew that it was Memorial Day weekend and I might have only a handful show up to pray.

At 6:45 the room was still empty, so I sat and held out my similarly empty hands. Lord, I said, this is for you. You asked me to pray with other people, so here I am. I've sent the invitations, but I can't make them come. I hope you like this. I hope you can use this, even if it's just me all night. 

Suddenly, into the expectant space, I felt these words:

"It's already a success. It's already a victory."

I sat up straight and opened my eyes. Really? You aren't disappointed if no one comes? You like it already--before anything happens--just because I obeyed? 

In that moment, relief blew through my heart and the anxiety I didn't know I'd been holding dropped on the floor. I sat there for a minute or so, just enjoying the realization. He was pleased. He even called it victory! Wow.

I felt like Samuel, learning that man looks at the outward appearance while God looks deeper. (Check out 1 Samuel 16:7 for the story)

Things that look"unfruitful" or "a waste" may tip the scale in unseen battles that we will never know until later.

If He calls it a success, who am I to call it failure? So why is the prospect of Christ being formed in me somehow less significant in my eyes than twenty people showing up to a prayer meeting?

Friends did come to pray with me :)

The thing is, we live in a culture pretty obsessed by numbers, stats, and feedback. 

At school, we measure success by grades.
At the gym, it's the number on the scale or the pounds lifted.
At work, we are evaluated on a sliding scale in dozens of categories designed to measure output, growth, and efficiency.
In online dating, it's the number of winks or likes.

So what if the grade is borderline, the scale doesn't move, and the winks don't roll in? 

In the absence of measurable, positive feedback, we can easily conclude that the effort was a failure. Like that age-old riddle about the tree falling in the wood, we ask, if the Instagram post didn't get any likes, was it any good? No, we conclude, it wasn't.

This formula is dangerous and inaccurate. Inaccurate because numbers are only a partial measure of value, often dependent on the human dolling them out. And what if that human is having a bad day? It is dangerous because the value of something--or someone--may be wildly mis-represented.

Now, please don't misunderstand--numbers are good, helpful tools. I use numbers every day at work to help me reach targets. I learn from feedback and rankings. And, in the world of social media, the number of clicks can give helpful clues as to what stories mean the most to readers.

But when the numbers become the only feedback that matters to me, or when I become unwilling to obey the Lord's leading if it flies in the face of those numbers, my heart needs to be re-aligned. 

These are questions that I've been asking myself:

• Do you feel discouraged when no one notices your efforts? 
• Do you get the urge to quit when you feel like your best try just did a bellyflop? 
• Do you hesitate to embark on something that you know won't have a tidy accompanying list of accomplishments to check through?
• Does the thought of being graded--in school, at work, or by friend's opinions--make you nervous?

Oh, yeah, been there. Still there, friend. The good days are the days I choose to step back, and purpose to remember truth.

And the truth is that our God is a God who sees. He sees holistically, accounting for the state of my heart, not just the tally marks on my list. (Genesis 16:13)

Faithfulness in little things matters to him immensely. He notices when you turn to him, try that brave thing, choose to obey--even if no one else is impressed. (Luke 16:10, Matt 25:21)

He does not break the broken--he lifts and heals. Failure or depression or mental illness or addiction do not disqualify you from his love or from serving Him. In fact, He tends to choose weak things and people over the strong ones. (Romans 8:39, 1 Cor. 1:27-29)

The economy of the Kingdom sounds backward. The weak and lowly--even kids--are rulers. The King bends to serve his subjects. The poor are rich and the rich are poor, and the small, weak things are chosen over the strong so that God will be magnified.

It sounds so crazy...but maybe we are the ones living topsy-turvey.

Your Minutes Matter :: an invitation to pray for Italy 2015

This morning I helped hubby roll the suitcases out to his car before I gave him one last kiss. Just five minutes ago, he texted me this picture to tell me that the team was about to board the plane for Italy!

Why am I not in the picture? Earlier this year, God surprised me by asking me to stay home rather than go on the mission trip to Milan. (Click here to read the story.) It was strange. I tend to assume--and I think a lot of Christians assume--that obedience usually means going rather than staying, but I couldn't deny the calm I felt once the decision was made.

I brought those now-empty weeks on the calendar to God. Did you want me to do something else with them, Lord?

The answer came quietly, dropping like a leaf into the calm pool of my heart: Pray. 

The ripple widened and another thought came, quick and insistent after the first: Pray WITH other people. 

All though scripture, there vivid examples of our great God answering prayer. He heard Abraham and made a 90 year old woman pregnant. He heard Moses and made a dry highway through an ocean. He heard Peter and made a dead woman live again. He has made water pour out of a rock, made lions ignore their dinner, and struck a whole army of enemy soldiers dead because of prayer.

One story in particular keeps running through my head, reminding me that prayer has significant results. 

That day the odds were stacked ridiculously high against the Israelites. They were just a bunch of sheep-tending nomads who'd been little kids when their parents left Egypt. Manna and the desert were all they'd ever known. They were about to face the Amalekites--seasoned warriors fighting on their home turf.

Moses told Joshua, "Choose some of our men and go out to fight the Amalekites. Tomorrow I will stand on top of the hill with the staff of God in my hands."

When Moses became tired and lowered his hands, the enemy began to beat Joshua and his men. But when he raised his hands in prayer again, the battle went well. As the day went on, he became exhausted, so two other leaders helped hold up his arms. The rag-taggle Jews beat the Amalekites that day not because they were good fighters, but because Moses persistently called on the Lord's help.

If we pray during these two weeks, it will accomplish three purposes:

1. The team in Italy will become more effective.
This one feels too obvious to write, but my half-hearted prayer track record shows that I need the reminder. As we pray, God will work. He will literally intervene in our space-time situations and change circumstances when we ask. He can keep the team joyful when they're jetlagged. He can heal food poisoning (which we pray won't happen!). He can change hearts and make the Good News suddenly clear to Italians.

2. The Church will become connected to God's heart for the nations. 
Prayer doesn't just change the things we pray for; it changes us.  If we spend our precious free time praying that God's purposes would happen, those purposes soon grow in importance to us. If we as the Church pray earnestly for lost people, those lost people soon become more and more precious to us and the love of Christ will dwell in us richly. The division between those who go and those who stay will be simply a matter of physical location. We are ALL commissioned by Jesus' command to "make disciples of all nations."

3. God will be glorified. 
This is the heartbeat pulsing through everything already mentioned. When God answers a specific prayer, He receives thanks, and his power over every circumstance is put on grand display. And to whom is it displayed? To us, certainly, but we are surrounded in a very real sense with a "great cloud of witnesses." When the angels in the unseen realms see our faith expressed through prayer, who can imagine what songs they sing to Him for it? When they see the way that His love causes us, His adopted children, to run to Him, the mysteries of his greatness and wisdom become the anthem of Heaven.

If God is stirring your heart, there are two ways to get involved:

Join the Online Prayer Team!

We need prayer cover for each day that the team is in Italy. You can sign up to pray for a specific day of the week, or the whole two-week trip--ask the Lord what He wants you to do.

As a member of the prayer team, you will get an email reminder on the night before your prayer day with prayer requests from Italy.

To join, click HERE.  

Gather in College Station for 24 hours of prayer!

There is power, encouragement and JOY when believers meet together to pray! The 24-hour prayer gathering will start next Friday, May 22nd at 5pm and will end the next day at the same time. It is a come-and-go event; guests are welcome to stay as long as they like and leave as needed.

Why this 24 hours, you ask?

This particular 24 hour period coincides with one of the most important days of ministry for the team in Milan. After a week of meeting students through the English Clubs on campus, our team always invites their new friends to join them for a full day excursion at a beautiful location several hours away from the city. The long bus ride and the relaxed setting of the Excursion Day has traditionally been one of the best days for deeper conversations about the Gospel with students.

To get the Evite to the event with more details, click HERE. 

Italy this year looks different

I *almost* posted this Wednesday, but it was the first of April, and the common wisdom says that nothing posted on April Fools Day should be trusted as fact.

I wanted you to believe me when I tell you this.

After much prayer and thought, I have decided to remain state-side this year while my husband goes back to Milan in May.

To explain why, let me tell you the story.

Around November, as I was praying for my friends in Italy and for the coming mission trip, I felt a hesitancy that was as unexpected as it was strong. Why does this year feel different? I wondered.

 The following week, my beautiful younger sister got a sparkling rock on her left hand. A wedding was quickly set for June. Only a few short weeks later, my other sister and her husband welcomed a sweet baby girl to our family. In our close-knit clan, babies and weddings are all-hands-on-deck affairs--a chance to pour love through action and presence.

I was torn. On the one hand, I could not wait to see my friends in Milan. I longed to grieve with the church there over the recent death of one of the missionaries, to continue the conversations about life and Jesus with those I met in the last three years, and to feel the joy of serving alongside my husband in a place we've both come to love.

On the other hand was a growing desire to grasp these momentous moments with my sisters. But it felt almost selfish to consider choosing family over a mission trip.

There was not enough vacation for both.

However, as I prayed, I became convinced that loving my sisters and their families was this year's mission. And, as I realized several years ago, even spiritual things like a mission trip overseas can be downright disobedient if the Lord is asking me to do something else.

So while it feels odd to reach March without a flurry of support-raising, I am filled with peace. When I get home and see the coffee cups from an Italy meeting cluttering the countertop by the sink, I smile, knowing that God has hand-picked these seven volunteers. It is a good team, and they will succeed.

And that's not all.

God has been dropping ideas into the now-peaceful pool of my heart. Each one sends excited ripples to the very edges of me until I can hardly sit still! I may be here, an ocean away from the team for two weeks, but those two weeks have a purpose. The purpose is slowly forming into a plan, but that will have to wait until the next post. :)

Stay tuned! 

My life is like the movies

I have a crazy story for you. 

It was lunchtime a few weeks ago on a workday. I was chasing the last of my food with my fork when I got an odd text from my friend, Macie.

“Cherise, have you ever been to Pine Cove?”

And then, two seconds later—“And did you ever live at [insert address]?”

Um…yes. I had been to that family camp many times, but not since I was in high school. And that was my old address.

Immediately, my mind started running through bizarre explanations for why she might be asking. Did the camp release some ancient video online that showed pictures of me? Did I lose something at Pine Cove that had my old address in it? Why would she have it?

The truth was stranger than I guessed.

Macie is the kind of girl to whom encouragement is like air: she breathes it in eagerly and then exhales it to everyone around her. Just standing near her is like a fresh breeze to your heart. When I met her, she was a week away from marrying one of my hubby’s best friends. Our apartments stand facing each other now across the street, just right for five-minute conversations if we happen to be getting home at the same time.

Because words hold such weight for her, she has kept a growing stash of encouragement in a burgeoning drawer somewhere in her house. On the day of the weird text, she’d been doing some spring cleaning and decided to sift through a stack of notes from 2003, the year she had become a believer in Jesus.

One of the notes was from a camper she met while working at Pine Cove as a counselor. It was written in careful cursive on notebook paper decorated with gel pen swirls.

It was chatty, talking about summer plans to go camping and about how the writer was about to get her driver's permit. It told Macie she had a beautiful heart and that the note-writer was praying for her. 

It was signed, “Cherise Beekman”.

Y’all. That camper was ME.

It's seriously like a movie! I can picture it in lights: “Girl discovers that she knew her friend before she really knew her.” We had a first class freak out on the phone as we uncovered our secret past.

That summer in 2003, my dad had been out of work nearly eight months. My sweet grandma had died of cancer only a few weeks after the layoff, and our family had been feeling the strain of change, grief, and uncertainty. Some kind person paid for us to go to Pine Cove as a family. The counselors were wonderful—so grown up and so kind to the bony fifteen year old and her three younger sisters.

One of them was a bouncy person with flaming hair and a big smile who went by—wait for it—“Hip Hop Anonymous”. Isn’t that a great name for her?

So our friendship didn’t actually begin in 2008 when Macie bounced in to Jenny’s apartment with leftover wedding shower cake to share. In reality, I met Hip Hop Anonymous in 2003, before our husbands ever laid eyes on each other and before Macie ever joined our church!

God knew we were meant to be friends. J

A chance to make my sister's day

Anyone remember this?

If you’ve been around here for a while, you might remember that 2012 was the summer that we lived in a cute little cabin with a tree growing up through the middle of its roof. Hubby was one of the staff for Colorado Leadership Training, a program that combines an amazing summer job with mentoring, deep relationships, and opportunities for outreach.

There were some scary wildfires.
We even had some crazy car trouble that made for a memorable first anniversary.
The sunsets were jaw-droppingly gorgeous against the mountains each night.
And we met more amazing people in one summer than I thought possible.

THIS summer, it’s my little sister’s turn!

The day after her highschool graduation this May, Kat headed north for a summer of working full time for the YMCA as a family coordinator. Which basically means she has the coolest job ever: she leads nighttime hikes, plays games with kids, and gives nature tours.

Her limited time off is filled with leadership training, new friends, bouldering, and running trails in the early mornings.

When her pictures pop up on my news feed, I can almost smell the mountains.

Those highschool dreads had become part of her in my mind, so her new close-cropped hair takes me by surprise. But it's adorable. She is a gamine, blue-eyed beauty with a boyish halo of blond.

One thing I remember from our summer at LT is how special real mail became.

Cell phone reception at the 'Y is almost non-existent, and Wi-Fi hotspots are small and crowded. When you miss your family and friends at home, there is nothing quite like finding a fat letter at the tiny post office, your name written in loopy, familiar cursive.

If you know my lil' sis and want to make her day, write her a note! (If you don't know her, consider writing a note to someone else!)

Here is her summer address:

[Staffer's Name] - EPC Staff

PO Box 20700

Estes Park, CO 80511

Living forgiven in front of them

 In my last post, I gave a teaser about our awesome Friday night. Thanks for patiently waiting! I always overestimate the amount of blogging time I'll have while we're over here in Milan.  (I mean, who knew we'd need silly stuff like sleep and food, right?)

Every evening after English Clubs, we go as a group to a local restaurant and invite the students to join us. The conversations we enjoy over food are often quieter and more personal than any we could have in the short break time during English Clubs, so we were excited when a large group joined us on Friday.

That particular night, we had an additional attraction: bowling! I'm terrible at the game, but I *almost* got a spare once, and laughing makes you bond with people, right? I don't mind being the joke. :)

Stylish, no?

Srike celebration!

"Giorda" is apparently the only logical way to spell my hubby's name...

After bowling, we headed over to the food court. I was with a sweet, talkative girl I'll call Rose, and I decided at the last second to join her group at "The Wild West". It's Italy's attempt at Tex-Mex, and while their guacamole leaves much to be desired, they do have pretty good nachos.

As the four of us at our end of the restaurant booth talked about the civic role of the Catholic Church in Italy, our studies, and our families, I was praying. I was listening intently, trying to hear past the surface and understand their hearts.

Usually, Italians are very reserved, and they have a hard time sharing personal details or discussing deeper topics. But if you listen well, there are often clues dropped about painful circumstances in their lives that can help you have a deeper conversation with them later.

Rose told how her mother had suddenly become very devout after visiting a shrine in another part of Italy. She now goes to church daily, as well as praying an hour every evening.

"How do you feel about the change in your mom?" I asked.

"Oh, it is fine and good," she said. "I like that she chooses this herself. It is not only religion. There is no person forcing her to do this--she decided it on her own. I think there is big difference between religion and a faith."

"I agree," I said. "When I was little, it was easy to believe in God because my parents told me. Later, I had questions and I found the answers when I read the Bible for myself. My cousin told me that it is ok to have questions because if something is true, it will still be true after you test it.'"


The conversation shifted and I listened for a long time. Then one of the guys said, "Wait--I want to hear you talk. Tell us about Texas." They listened, disbelieving, as I described the distance from Houston to Dallas, the variety of foods and cultures represented, the fact that not everything is desert, and the country dancing. The conversation was about to veer into an animated debate about Wild West shows when the same guy said, "No, this is OK, but tell us something else. I like to hear your voice. Tell us whatever you like."

Could I have asked for a more perfect chance to tell how God has changed me?

So I told my story.

How I used to find my value in the fact that I was a good student. How I thought my family was perfect. How my Grandma died. How Dad lost his job. How God helped me forgive my parents completely because I have been forgiven. How I now know that my value comes from the fact that I'm loved by God--not from what I do.

As we paid and walked out of the mall, Rose said, "I can feel everything you said. It is so similar to my life!"

She had to leave early and can't spend any more time with our team because of a job in another city, but neither one of us wanted to stop talking.

Please pray for this beautiful girl and for the other students who were sitting close. I know from experience that only God can give hope to a family that is breaking apart.
Only God can help us forgive wounds like that.
Only God's love can silence the accusing voices that tell us we're unlovely and unlovable. 

An overdue update!

Our first week here in Milan is drawing to a close, and the stories are starting to pile up, so it's time for an update!

Our team is finally (thankfully) out from under the foggy influence of travel fatigue, and I've watched everyone get more and more comfortable with the daily routine, using public transport, ordering food, and speaking to the Italian students. Even though I've been to Milan twice before, it always takes me a few days to re-remember how things work, and I've had some hiliarious moments as I've tried to stumble through pronunciations or figure out what someone just asked me.

It helps to remember that if we feel unsure, the Italian students are often just as nervous (if not more) than we are. We might be in a foreign country, but at least we get to remain in the comfort of our own language.

On the first day of English Clubs, we played games and made small talk and laughed as we tried to pronounce everyone's name. My name is hard even for Americans to pronounce and remember, but it's a real doozie for them. However, Gabrielle, one of the girls on our team, simply switched out the "e" at the end of her name for an "a", and voila! She has an Italian name! Some of the students even mistook her for an Italian when they glanced at her nametag. :)

The first day was good, but the second was amazing! Instead of going to a classroom, we all trooped to a beautiful park that sits a short mile or so from campus. In the bright sunshine and pollen we played soccer (pronounced "futbol" here, just as in Mexico), and even taught the students to play Ultimate Frisbee. They got really competitive!

I brought my tennis shoes to play, but I ended up talking in the shade with some of the girls who didn't want to run around. As we discussed cultural differences, our families, and our dreams for the future, I found myself thinking that these girls were the ages of my sisters.

The awesome conversations continued at the "aperitivo" (happy hour) at a campus cafe. We crowded over twenty people around the tables, laughing at the wind that kept blowing our napkins and food into our laps.

Today was probably the best day yet, but it's 1 am here in Milan and tomorrow Jordan are boarding a train for Turin early in the morning (a last-minute trip that we planned just today!), so I need to sign off.

But please don't stop praying! All week, in both my personal times with Jesus and times with the team, I've been learning about the necessity, urgency and privilege of prayer.

Your prayers matter. 

They move the heart of God to move in the hearts and circumstances of people, and we know that nothing we do will have lasting fruit unless it's done in His strength.

Please pray: 

• That many students would join our team as they go sight-seeing around the center of Milan tomorrow (10 hrs from the time of this post)
• For our team to be encouraged and joyful
• For the three students I got to share my story with tonight!!! (Ohh, it was so exciting!! But you'll have to wait until the next post. :) ) 

Ciao-dy, Milan! It's been a while

We're here! After 22 hours, two flights, a 5-hour layover and a van ride through Milan, we finally hoisted our bags and our sleepy selves upstairs at our hotel this morning at around 11:30 am local time.

(For family members who are curious, Milan is seven hours ahead of TX time. Our bodies felt like it was 3:30 am.)

Hubby zonked out during the layover in Newark

The Alps! 

The bus ride through Milan from the airport

First meal in Italy! So much fun reconnecting with the team and meeting a new friend as well.

Here we are! Exhausted to the core, but thankful for a safe trip.

The hubs is signaling that blogging time has expired, so I'll let the pictures be enough for now. Please pray for our team to be well rested tomorrow as we begin the first week of English Clubs and meet students on campus tomorrow!

If you're wondering why we're in Italy, click here, and then join us by praying!

On our way to Italy again!

The New York skyline is just barely visible past the forest of airplane fins jutting into the sky, and our team is sitting excitedly as we wait to board our second flight. We're finally on our way to Italy!

It's been a marathon of a week. Several people on our team (including my own hubby) are still sleep-deprived from final exams. Two of the girls actually graduated from Texas A&M this weekend (whoop!), and I worked two of the graduation ceremonies as a marshal because of my job in the graduate studies office. But we definitely feel that God is sustaining us and answering the prayers of our support team! Keep on praying!

One wonderful answer to prayer is that we did NOT have to wake up at an insane hour and drive to the airport this morning. The parents of one of the girls on the team generously hosted our whole troop last night, fed us delicious homemade meals, and drove us to the airport this morning before church. Thank you, Mrs. Spachek, for mothering us all on Mother's Day! 

A second answer to prayer came this afternoon during our layover when another teammate discovered that her debit card was missing. This particular friend is planning to stay the entire summer in Milan for an internship with the church plant team, so the loss of her card was not a small thing. We started praying while she and my hubby went to retrace her steps. God answered! Some wonderful honest person turned the card in to the lost and found desk and we all felt so relieved.

A few things to pray for:

• Continued safety as we fly to Milan tonight
• The safe arrival of all luggage, and that we don't lose any more important items! :)
• Good health. Because so many on our team are tired, we're praying for protection against sickness and headaches. 
• Opportunities to talk about Jesus with people on the flight 

Enjoy a few pictures from today! I will update y'all soon from Milan once we arrive. 

The first flight from Houston

Waiting in the Newark airport during our 5-hr layover

Newark, NJ

Paul taught us now to play spades!

Less than two months away!

The excitement has been slowly building in my heart since January, when our letters were signed and sent. Part of me still can't believe that we are actually returning to Milan! (Click here for last year's post on returning...it's still a true expression of how we feel to be going back!)

In case you're new to the blog, or just need a reminder, here's what's going on:

Our church has linked arms in partnership with a tiny, brave church plant in Milan, Italy. Like us, they focus their ministry on the college students at a local university. Also like us, they are passionate about discipleship.

This was our team with the students last year on an excursion. Such a fun day! Hubby and I are front, left.  

Each year, we send a team of students to encourage and help this church by putting together fun, interactive English Clubs for the students of Bicocca University. The clubs provide a great setting to meet students and build relationships.

We love the fact that we stay for two full weeks! That second week gives time for trust to form and conversations to go beyond the surface.

For many young people in Italy's post-Christian secularism, broken homes and shallow relationships are the norm. Knowing this, my husband and I have tried to text and Facebook our Italian friends throughout the year. Going back to the team and to our Italian friends--well, it's a bit like a family reunion.

Even though support raising is far from complete, my heart is full to bursting right now with thanks for friends like you who give to make it possible for us to return!

By our returning we tell the Italian students that they are more than a two-week project. The returning lends weight, not only to the friendships, but also to the declaration that Jesus is just as real and alive and life-changing as the first time we told them.

Never underestimate the power of persistent love. My own heart is proof that it can soften, redeem, transform.

Will you help us return? Click here for Fellowship Church's secure giving site.
**NOTE: please put "Castille Italy Mission" in the comment box before clicking "submit". This helps your gift go to the right place.

Will you pray?
Mark the dates for our trip in your phone calendar! (May 11-25)

• Pray for hearts to be open to the love of Jesus.
• Pray for us to be humble.
• Pray for courage and cultural sensitivity.
• Pray for Frank, Pam, Stacy, and Debbie--the long-term missionaries in Milan.
• Pray for every team member to reach their support goal by April 11.
• Most of all, pray for God's name to be famous and lifted high.

 

Summer photo album

How has the summer been for you?

Yes, OK, technically the dog days of heat are still blazing outside, but here in our college town, the familiar sights and sounds of a new fall semester abound. Wal-Mart is overflowing with chaotic bins of school supplies, the streets are clogged with halting freshmen (and their parents!), and a sign at the local Starbucks declares what everyone already knows: that pumpkin spice lattes are only a few months away! 

Tomorrow classes begin again, and I can't help but feel the nostalgic pull to books and backpacks and the crisp smoothness of new spiral notebooks. *Sigh* I will forever be a student on the inside. 

Looking behind, this third summer of married life has had a completely different flavor from the first two. 

Last year was a summer of mountains, car trouble adventures, friendship insecurities, and wide-flung travel. The summer before was even crazier, with our wedding, honeymoon, head-lice (ooooooh, now there's a story...), and the foreignness of navigating my new role as wife. 

Despite another trip to Italy, some deep soul-searching, a long and ongoing job search, and a few road trips in-state, this summer has had a comfortable rhythm of rest, work, and the homey pleasures that come from having frequent guests. We painted my former study room-turned-guest room, transforming it from this color...

to this. (Correct color, but not an actual picture of the room. I wish!)

And you're probably thinking, "Uhhh, yeah.  A VERY needed change, especially if people plan to SLEEP there." Yep. I agree. 

Even though our new guest room was in progress for most of the summer, several dear friends and family members blessed us by breaking it in and keeping us company. I enjoyed them so much that I barely missed the mountains! 

So here is a short picture update of our summer shenanigans, to be followed by some more thoughtful posts soon. Right now, however, I simply wanted to let my bloggy friends know we hadn't died or anything, given my looooonnng absence from this site. :)

This dear friend spent a whole weekend with us early in the summer! She tried the local frozen yogurt, went with us to the George H. Bush presidential library, introduced us to this fascinating documentary. 

The Berlin Wall came down during Bush Sr.'s presidency, and his presidential library displays a colorful, graffiti-covered chunk of the demolished barrier. 

Then came my sister and her husband! We spent an entire day in the city for a conference, and then sis and I squeezed in a quick walk before they left. The flower we found on the walk made me catch my breath. I mean, just LOOK at it! Can you believe something like this was simply growing wild, unnoticed, on a walking trail in a city park?

And then the other sister came with her boyfriend! I had to work, but the hubs took them to the famed Blue Bell factory an hour away for a tour. If you live in Texas, you must, I repeat MUST visit this place! 

The night before they left, we all went to a local coffee shop for some Harry Potter-inspired "butter beer" (actually cream soda, butterscotch syrup and heavy cream) and a card version of Monopoly. 

And of course, we painted ourselves blue for free food with the summer homegroup! (I had work the next morning, so I was excused from full blue coverage.)

We had more visitors, there were several beautiful weddings, and there were countless silly, serious, tearful moments in between, but life is not always recorded as it's lived. Sometimes the spontaneity of a moment is half its joy. The record-keeping would spoil it, rather than preserve it. So there you go: a little snapshot of our summer! 

How does my garden grow?

 The last time I showed you my garden, the box stood stark in the ground, softened only by a few tiny pepper and tomato plants.

Look at it now!

Because of the drought our area has had for the past two summers, I was considering installing an auto-drip system. But because this summer has been pretty wet so far, my new concern is drainage. Too much water equals root-rot. I'm hoping that the fact that it's a raised bed will help.

I'm excited about these baby tomatoes!

And these flowers will one day be cucumbers!

Not sure why the bell peppers are looking puny. Too much water perhaps?

There is one problem I have no clue how to fix. Little sugar ants are eating the stems of my zucchini plants at the root! Does anyone know how I can stop them?

Now the big stuff!

After my previous post about God using "small things" in Italy, I realized that I should probably clarify something:

God did big things in Italy, and answered big, outrageous prayers.

It was my faith that was puny that morning, seeing only smallness. I was insecure, focused on my efforts instead of God's power.

That other post was not a trip summary. It was just a personal reflection on something I was learning--something that I needed to know just as much here in the states as overseas.

THIS post, however, is a report! :)
Because of the mixed crowd that reads this blog, I can't share personal details about friends' names and specific conversations. Just respecting my friends' privacy here. However, I'm excited to give a bullet-point update of how God answered some of your prayers!

• Three Salvations!
  Three of our friends decided to begin a relationship with Jesus, trusting that His death is the only way to be saved from the death penalty we all deserve. Technically, I now have two new sisters and a brother. "Thrilled" isn't a big enough word to describe how excited we are!
  
• Continued friendships & awesome conversations
  As I wrote in a previous post, I love returning. I love catching up, reuniting, re-hashing old jokes and making new ones. Thanks to Facebook, many of the friends we made last year returned to English Clubs to see us! 

  

  Team plus students at the beach of Santa Margherita, Ligura

• Hubby's allergies were fine!
  The land of pizza, pasta and cheese is a hard place for the gluten and dairy intolerant, but these supplements made life so much easier.
  
• Team unity
  Without unity, a team flops. Most of the team members were at the acqaintance level when we boarded the plane for Milan. Add this to the fact that we had a patchwork of ages, personalities, and mission trip experience, and you can understand why unity was at the top of our prayer list.
  I personally felt God connect me to the team during a fun lunch with the other girls. Some appointments fell through, so was only team members--a disappointment turned blessing.
  
• Minimal jet lag
  One of the girls on the team has a history of HORRIBLE jet lag. I'm talking konk-out-for-fourty-eight-hours horrible jet lag. We prayed that she wouldn't experience this, and she barely felt tired!

So once again, THANK YOU all for praying, for giving, and for being a very literal part of our team even if you didn't leave your home. We couldn't have done it without you. 

Small things

Again, I find that the ambition to blog regularly on a mission trip like this proved to be completely unrealistic. Oh well. There is grace in the doing and not-doing, and sometimes the call to sit and rest--to simply be--outshines the trophies we give ourselves for checking boxes off lists.


Our two weeks in Milan are drawing to a close. Sunday, we will eat one last brioche and point our noses back to the land of Starbucks and larger cars. I will miss Italy so much.

We have been living the refreshing rhythm of days measured by the quality of conversations with God and with others rather than by errands run or hours worked.

Even then, "measure" is a mis-nomer. Because how can you measure what God might do through a seemingly inconsequential hug? Or a friendly chat over a maroccino?

Two weeks is a blip on eternity's timeline, but if love was expressed, that blip carries the weight of eternity.

This morning I forgot this. For about three hours, I walked in a fog of self-doubt which was really God-doubt in disguise. It hit me after breakfast, causing me to question my effectiveness, my abilities, and whether I had wasted my time coming.

As I type, I'm scoffing at the absurdity. But even the absurd can sound true when you're tired.

I looked over the past two weeks and saw only a string of inconsequential moments, conversations, and activities. Only two weeks, when I longed to give the whole shebang and move here for good. It seemed so paltry. Like loose change in my coin purse.

But there was that day when Jesus called her two coins the biggest offering of all. 

And there was another afternoon when a kid's lunch, given to Jesus, fed enough people to fill a stadium. 

He loves to use the weak things, the small things, the awkward things, even the boring things.
By this, He shames the strong.
If I feel strong, I'm actually weak.
But when I give Him the small things--my little lunch, my loose change--His strength is obvious.

So this is what I'm learning. It's only something small...but I guess I could be wrong about that. :)