We Help One Another See

The mamas gather on the veranda in the late afternoon to sort maize. Young girls gather, too.

Their hands move swiftly through the kernels, sorting out the good pieces from the bad.

We join them in the shade, sitting, to learn from them, the job of cleaning maize. We want to help them; we want to get to know them. They are women with stories and women with hope.

The mamas talk of the children, the orphans, eight or nine dear ones to a home.  These women are the ones who love them, teach them. We listen, leaning in to their stories.

They ask us (my other female team members and myself) about life in America. We speak our stories, too.

We weave our stories together; God weaves them tighter. Worlds apart in many ways -- and yet we are women, made in the image of God, with hearts that care and hearts that yearn.

Minutes pass into hours, and we still speak sincerely to one another, while sorting maize. We sort life out together, too.

The sun begins to set, slowly. My new friend, Mama Rose, stops what she is doing.

“My vision is poor,” she says softly. “It is getting darker, and I cannot see very well. I must stop working now.”

I feel a gentle prompt from the Lord and slip my reading glasses off my nose.

“Would you like to try these?” I offer my sister.

She slips them on while, simultaneously, a smile blooms across her face.

“OOOOOHH!  I can see!” she exclaims, in her warm African accent. “I can’t believe the difference! I can still work with the maize and  now, I think I can read my Bible!”

She is surprised. I am, too.

In the days that follow, my other team-mates and I find more glasses that work -- some stored away in a box in a clinic building, unused, and some of our own.

We bring the beauty of sight to the women who sort maize and surround the children with their love.

Many days, I think of them, remembering our time together … sharing life, gaining perspective, loving one another, encouraging one another – helping each other see.

I think of the women in my life, now – they help me see, too. 

I do not sort maize on cool, concrete floors, under the warm African sun, with my women friends here in America -- but I do sort through life. 

God gives me this gift of women friends – near and far --  and I am grateful for them.  Very.

What is it About a Surprise Party?

A gaggle of nine and ten year old girls with skates on their feet and giggles in their voices, rocked and rolled back and forth in a small group, huddling behind the door to the roller rink. They waited for their friend -- the guest of honor --to arrive at the surprise party.

The birthday girl's mother made the call to her husband signally that the other girls were ready. (The little girl thought that she was coming to the roller rink to check it out for a birthday party that she was hoping to have. Her birthday was still a week away). The mother watched the entrance while the silliness and energy grew louder from the girls. They looked like an explosion of confetti, apropos for the party. Standing ten feet behind the girls, the moms stood in a line, watching and waiting. They were there to witness the fun -- share in the joy. Who can resist witnessing the unfolding of a surprise?

"She's here, girls! Everyone ready? When she walks in, you know what to do!" whispered the mother.

At that instant, the birthday girl entered the roller rink, and a resounding "SURPRISE!" echoed throughout the rink. The little girl was shocked. She stood motionless, mouth formed in a wide open smile, her sweet little eyes staring out from behind her glasses, taking it all in.

The girls skated over to her and wrapped their arms around her, laughing and joining in with rounds of "happy birthdays" and "surprise" mingled together. The fun was under way, and it was a beautiful sight.

And the moms? We just stood there with tears in our eyes, soft smiles on our faces, and at least for myself, a heart that was stirred by something mysterious and deep, down inside.

I can't put words to it though, but it is not the first time that I was moved to tears as I watched an event like this unfold. Is it the unexpected joy? The element of suspense? Is it the room full of love and friendship? Or is it in a world where we are more often surprised by things we'd rather not deal with, and for a brief moment we find a surprise that is a celebration?

I can't figure it out, but perhaps you know what I mean. There is just something very special and life-giving in witnessing it, but it seems like there is more. I'm still smiling about it tonite, and still wondering, what is it about a surprise party?

Valued by God

Today’s post is dedicated to all the women that I know (and don’t know) who feel “less than.” For all of you who have been told that you do not matter, that you are not as important, that you have no to little value or that what you do is a waste of time, I have good news for you. It is a lie. You are valued and you are loved.

Hanging on the cross, Jesus breathed His last breath – by choice, out of love – for you and for me. The sky darkened like a bruise and the veil of the temple tore in two. Jesus did what needed to be done so that all who believe in Him could enter the presence of God. There was no other way. Jesus made the way. He is the only way.

After we read of his dying in the book of Mark, then God chose to share this detail. “Some women were watching from a distance … these women had followed Him and cared for His needs … many other women who had come up with Him were also there” (Mark 15:40-41).

Some women. These women. Many women. Why does God point out the women here? Why does He, for just a moment at this time of sadness and darkness, bring our attention on them? Why does He mention them, some by name and others in general? I wish I knew for sure, but I don’t. However, I find it interesting and it does encourage me in this -- God cares about women, and sees and believes that women are important, too.

These women followed Him and cared for His needs. They followed Him, even in to hardest of times. They made their way through crowds of people who were shouting and jeering for Jesus to die. They took risks to love their Savior. They were steadfast and loyal. God noticed that. They cared for His needs and they loved Him in the days when He ministered with healing and truth. In those days, women were not looked upon as equals in the culture – but God saw them as such, and in this instant, at the darkest time of history, He mentions women.

Dear reader, you may feel unseen by others, but you are clearly seen by God. He sees all. You may feel worthless but that is not true. You have great value in the heart of God. You may feel that you are not important, just part of the background of life and unnoticed, but you are not. You are in the foreground of God’s plan and of His purposes. You may feel that all that you do for Him is unimportant and doesn’t matter, but it is important and it matters -- alot.

Do not give up in following Jesus. Follow Him wherever He goes, even in to the darkest of times. Sometimes, it requires a risk to love Him. Others may be shouting (or whispering) around you to doubt who He is; remain steadfast and loyal to Him. Care for His precious name by serving in His name, sharing the power of His name, and loving Him by pursuing the truth and loving others boldly and well. Keep your eyes focused on Him, even when you are crowded in by the details and hurts of life.

And remember, wherever you are, God is with you. He loves you. He notices you. He honors your dignity as a woman. You are not less in His eyes – you are lovely.