having the same love

As I pinched the Indian flat bread around the other dishes prepared before me, I asked about their Christian heritage. Seventeen years in America but native to a country where less than 3% of the population professes Christ.

"We consider ourselves very blessed to have been raised in Christian homes. We are both the products of missionaries."

You see in America we view Christianity much differently than they do in many other countries. In Tanzania for example when we witnessed to devout Muslims - the decision for Christ was weighed heavily on their hearts. For if they were to choose Christ, it would mean being cast out of their villages and shunned from their families. While I'm not brave enough to pray for persecution - I must admit - it doesn't leave room for middle ground. You are either sold out for Christ...or you are not. For you are not going to profess something that you 'kind of' believe in. No...either Jesus Christ is the son of the Living God and therefore worth the sacrifice...or He isn't.

She went on to share her story...her great, great, [maybe another great] grandfather was part of a village that had stoned a missionary to death for the message he taught. Her grandfather was so intrigued by this man who willingly gave up his life, out of love, for the people in his village that he begin reading one of the Bibles this strange missionary had left behind. And in that Bible...he met Jesus. He gave his life to the Lord and while enduring his own persecution spread the message.

A few generations later - there I was not only sharing an Indian meal in America with his granddaughter but also a heart for missions and a love of the Lord.

I can't begin to keep up with God and His goodness...His faithfulness or His plan. I just commit to following it.

“Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind.” Philippians 2:1-2

Trading My Sorrow

Paul Benjamin Shutt
January 25, 1916 - July 22, 2011
Some of my fondest memories of my grandfather are our conversations in these later years. He was so baffled why God had not taken him home yet and pondered His purposes for his time here. Almost immediately upon my return home from the World Race, we had a sit down in which he really wanted me to consider that question with him – and not in a flippant sort of way.

I shrugged. “The only thing I can tell you Grandpa...is that if He hasn’t taken you...He’s not done with you yet...He still has something left for you to do here.”

He processed it for a moment and responded, “I wish I could visit people in the hospital and talk with them – people that may not have anyone else to talk to.”

And with that simple statement and a little bit of effort...Grandpa’s ‘nursing home ministry’ was born. He began forming relationships with the folks in the nursing home…listening to their stories (as best he could) and sharing his. I’ll never forget his expression when I went for a visit a few weeks later to check in on his progress. With a humble smile and tears welling up in his eyes, he told me about his ‘patrons’. He pulled out a small notebook from his front pocket and slowly began turning the pages. Each one contained a name and some notes he used to recollect their stories. ”Today they circled five people around to talk with me” he said in disbelief.

“Well it sounds like you’ve found some work God has for you to do” I smiled.

“Yes, and I tell them about the Lord every chance I get” he declared.

Grandpa was 95 years old when he passed...still living independently...still witnessing Christ.

As I drove to work after learning of his passing...I failed to fight back the tears. Subtly the song on the radio began to interrupt my thoughts...as it talked about trading sickness and pain...for the joy of the Lord - though the sorrow may last for the night...His joy comes with the morning. Suddenly His peace transcended over me like the dawn of a new day. Grandpa is on Glory’s side...where there is no more sickness...no more pain – where every tear has been wiped away. He no longer bears witness to Christ in this life...because he sits with Him in the next. Can you imagine?

As I look over my life...I just can’t believe how God has always looked out for me...He’s given me everything I ever asked for. It might not have come when I thought it should or look the way I thought it would…but now looking back over my life, I can see...He answered every prayer. ~ Paul B. Shutt

Let that be enough...

Be still, and know that I am God...

Days...weeks...years even...
for these words
buried in the 46th Psalm
to take a deep rooted appreciation
in the depths of my soul

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God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice, the earth melts.

The LORD Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Come and see what the LORD has done,
the desolations he has brought on the earth.
He makes wars cease
to the ends of the earth.
He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
he burns the shields with fire.
He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”

The LORD Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How often our earth gives way
our security shaken
our own strength insufficient.

Yet it is in this place
at the end of ourselves
we call out for more.

And when we do...

may we know that He hears us
may we know His touch
may we know that He loves us

and may we let that be enough.

Walk through fire

In the moments when I'm walking through fire...

I question...
I wrestle...
I cry.

I get angry...
I repent...

I wipe away my tears...

and start the cycle again.

But...

when I finally reach the other side...and walk a bit further down the road...God nudges me...to turn around...and take in what He's done.


"You may not like my methods...and you don't understand my ways...but you can not deny what I am doing child. I am in control. Always remember...I am with you...I am for you...my love will never fail."

I wonder...what fires are you walking through tonight?

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. Matthew 6: 33

Let us set our eyes upon Him.

Sitting at the Table

I was reunited with an old friend and co-worker in the Amsterdam airport as we boarded the last leg of our journey into Entebbe, Uganda. We stepped off the plane onto African soil and moments into our walk, the power went out throughout the entire airport – as it flickered back to life, I smiled and looked to Mike...”Welcome to Africa!”

We were greeted around 10:30pm after we made it through customs by a sign with our names. I have secretly always wanted to be greeted in such a manner. Although in reality there was a much stronger sense of relief vs. false sense of celebrity in that moment. :)

Enter Chester. A man I had not previously met face-to-face, yet immediately recognized due to the Internet, accompanied our sign and driver. I had learned of Chester during my time in Uganda last year. As I became familiar with the agriculture program in Lira - Victory Outreach Ministries Agriculture Project (VOMAP) – I also learned of it's Canadian partner – Crossroads and their field rep who made regular visits.

We made the short drive over to our guest house and settled in for the short evening. Despite the late hour, we sat with Chester on the patio and caught up like old friends, a task easily accomplished through shared passions and a love of Jesus.

And then there were four. Breakfast came at a painfully early hour and we sipped coffee around a table joined by Eldad. Eldad joined us from Israel on behalf of John Deere Water – focused on performing an irrigation assessment for VOMAP. We laughed and enjoyed the company of new friends, commenting on the different avenues that had brought us to the table.

We journeyed to the Kajaansi airstrip and boarded the MAF (Mission Aviation Fellowship) flight to Lira. Amid the morning shower, a blessing in Uganda's rainy season, we all breathed a sigh of relief as our tires left the muddy airstrip behind.

And then there were more. Reuniting with friends and familiar faces in Lira was a blessing too precious for words. The joy and sincerity of a people I have come to love immediately flooded my heart. Pastor Johnson greeted me with a warm hug and a smile...”Welcome home!” as we settled in for some African tea and mandazi.

Later that day...we would sit around the table with six VOM local leaders to discuss the current situation and needs in the region and the life-giving value of water.

Later that day...I would sit amazed by our Heavenly Father who had perfectly orchestrated the different avenues that had brought us each uniquely to the table.

Painting Pictures of Egypt

I've been painting pictures of Egypt
Leaving out what it lacked
The future seems so hard
And I want to go back
But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I've learned
And those roads closed off to me
While my back was turned

Home Again

I stood in front of the picture that hangs above my fireplace tonight and soaked in the faces as they stared back at me. I didn't want them to penetrate my soul as deeply as they did...but that didn't stop them.

I had just gotten off the phone...from an incredibly exciting conversation regarding future ministry possibilities...yet when I hung up I almost instantly began to cry...weep really. And I had no idea why. There was such joy surrounding my soul...but it was laced with the weightiness of heartbreak...perhaps for the vast need that exists in the world...and probably fear...for God asking me to do something about it.

I guess it comes with the territory sometimes.

I spent 30 minutes driving up and down the streets of Rock Island last week with one of the boys, searching for his brother before church. A couple days later when I picked them up after school...I lovingly let him know I was less than impressed. This isn't the first time he has blown me off since I've been home.

"Remember the promise you made to me...that even when you got older and 'too cool' for church...that you would continue to come anyway." I nudged...

Looking me straight in the eye he responded..."Brandy...you were gone all year...that promise got old."

I didn't want his words to cut like a knife...but they did.

But because the kid has a heart the size of Texas and an understanding and interest in missions...I knew I had a leg to stand on.

"Tyvon I hardly abandoned you...I was doing missions for Jesus."

He let his head sink into his lap...and through a muffled and seemingly defeated...yet sincere voice came his response..."Yeah" he paused..."I know".

While he hid his face, I hid my tears.

It feels good to be back in the neighborhood, to walk into the youth center and see Sr. High boys who shouldn't care less that I'm back in town paint a smile across their face when they see me.

They shouldn't care...but they do.