Begun in Faith

So there I was, working and living and minding my own business. I had a great long-ish term substitute job and was enjoying skyping with my future Extreme Nazarene teammates. Then one day, exactly ten days ago, I got a call from Extreme asking me to consider switching teams with a girl who could use more time to raise funds. I prayed for wisdom and I knew that turning this opportunity down would be taking control of this beautiful work God has called me to. I agreed to switch teams the next day and now, nine days later, I am sitting on a dorm bed in Quito, Ecuador wondering if my headache is from dehydration, lack of coffee, or the high altitude. (since I've been drinking water and coffee all morning, it's safe to say it's either the altitude or just a regular headache) I was disappointed to have to say goodbye to my other teammates, but I am so excited to get to start earlier than expected. I met my first new teammate, Ashley, yesterday in Atlanta. We both had a 45 minu...

I have taken the phrase "begun in faith" from a favorite quote: We still cannot imagine that today God doesn't want anything new for us, but simply to prove us in the old way. That is too petty, too monotonous, too undemanding for us. And we simply cannot be constant with the fact that God's cause is not always the successful one, that we really could be "unsuccessful": and yet be on the right road. But this is where we find out whether we have begun in faith or in a burst of enthusiasm.  The quote itself makes me want to argue with it. If something isn't working, it is our responsibility to change it. When we are unsuccessful in accomplishing God's will, we must evaluate what we did wrong, how we can be better next time. But then I remember the power of this quote is in its context. This is the end of a letter Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote in 1938 to leaders of the Confessing Church in Germany. The Confessing Church had broken away from the German...

Those of you who were around Lewiston First Church in 1997 may remember an assortment of photographs that were scattered through the upstairs classrooms. Photographs taped to colored printer paper taped to the wall. They didn't need titles because everyone knew they were pictures of Malagasy street children. Looking at those pictures is my earliest memory of considering mission work. At the beginning of my freshman year of high school, I was considering schedules, course options, career options, my future, when I got a picture in my mind of myself teaching Malagasy children in a classroom. My heart felt on fire. That was exactly what I wanted to do. That was what God wanted me to do. I spent the rest of high school scaring my parents with aspirations of living in Africa. God used this time to make me His own. The biggest struggle was coming to terms with eventually living far away from my family. I counted the costs, and God equipped me with the faith to know His will is worth ...