Monday, September 26, 2011

Salsa and God

            What does one think of when one says salsa? Well maybe the sauce, but I mean the dance. The picture I get, or I should say got, was sexuality, male with female, gracefulness, maybe some dark lighting. I did not picture myself and prophecies from God. On Wednesday night I went dancing with a group of people who go almost every week. It’s pretty cool to see men and women who did not know an inch of salsa, flying on the dance floor. Well this was my third time, so I’m still not that great (thankfully with the right dancing partner it doesn’t matter because he’ll just fly me around). On one of the lessons, God nudged me (think almost visual picture with a mix of feeling) and said “remember that prophecy."
When I was fourteen at winter camp a lady told me in prophecy form that one day I would dance but she didn’t know how. Well picture a scrawny teenager who is socially awkward and not exactly graceful and see how she reacted. In the years since I have danced before the lord and several occasions.
One of the more notable times, was when I was at church one Sunday and I learned there was a shooting at YWAM where I had gone to school and possibly deaths. I had no idea who was killed. I danced before God then, cause I didn’t know how else to express myself in God’s presence. 
Apparently, my learning Salsa was one of the parts of this prophecy. From what I can gather, dancing is one of the more self assured things to do. When dancing alone I can’t think, or at least not care what other people are thinking. When dancing with another person, I have to be ok with touching other people. Both show a need for me to not care if I make a fool of myself. Anyways, the point is, God said, see I have molded you into such a confident young woman, and I love you enough to get you into Salsa. Hehe. God’s cool.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Still Small Voice

God’s presence is so good. Sometimes it comes in this rush and I am filled with the joy of the Lord. Other times it is just the tender comfort of quiet. I received the later today. Just a sense of calm. I am an extremely analytical person. It means I think through things (usually wrongly) over and over until it drives me a little nutty. Today, as my friends were not in the dining room that I could see, I went up to deck seven to eat. Deck seven is a semi open air deck (think of a porch) with two tables and the corresponding chairs. It overlooks Sierra Leone, which with all its poverty, ramshackle housing, and smoky surroundings, is actually quite beautiful to view. I was joined by one other person, but at first neither of us talked except for the greeting. When we finally did talk it was without the need to put a bunch of words together and fill up space. It wasn’t small talk. I don’t really like small talk. Inside these large spaces I had music in my head and I could talk to Abba, my daddy. I felt calm. Quiet. Peaceful.

Yesterday, I finally bought my plane ticket home. November 27th is not that far away, and the plane ticket brought that all the more close. August 19th was my two year anniversary. I can still remember the day I came here, came home. We landed in Benin, drove, met a bunch of strangers who drove us to the ship. What a comfort it was to see all my gateway family lined up next to the gangway with signs, ready to take me and my fellow travelers (other gateway family members) into their arms. It was surreal but I was home.

This really is home. Here I have grown friends who, once we are apart physically, I will never part spiritually for they have become my brothers and sisters. Here, I learned the meaning of the prophecy told over me; that I would one day unfold and come into myself. Here, I have cried, I have laughed more times than I can count, I have done some crazy things, I have become friends with people from all over the world, I have sung on worship team, I have sung a solo(!), and I have said goodbye to hundreds of friends.

My gateway group, which has started out in the twenties has dwindled to about six. I have been to twenty-four countries. I have met thousands of people, but normally I am the one who says goodbye and drives away. I have become tired and sometimes downright moody. I feel like an old woman sometimes who says “well in my day…” because I do. I say things like, “Well when I started two years ago…”

Am I complaining? Maybe a little, but this little bit of sadness, cannot compare to the abundant joy of the former. I am so so glad I came. This has been a marvelous experience.

Still, thanks God for giving me this one moment of quiet where I didn’t have to put up any mask, and I could just be.

God bless all of you,


Went to the Crown Bakery and had a Lebanese breakfast

 Movie Fest on board - dressed up

Said goodbye to Johan

Country Line Dancing!