Tag: faith of a child

“Who Told You That?”

It’s been a few months since I’ve posted to my blog – nine to be exact. I’ve written a few things but they just didn’t feel right. They didn’t feel worthy of posting, so some wait patiently in a notebook and some quickly found the nearest trash can. Despite the fact that I have known for a long time that God has called me to write, nothing I wrote felt good enough to me.

This week I realized why.

Monday I pulled out my copy of The Quest by Beth Moore. It’s a Bible study I started a few months ago but didn’t finish. I started reading the answers I had written back then in response to some of Beth’s questions, and I realized why my writing “wasn’t good enough” but I didn’t do anything that day to change it.

Then I received a message today from God. Well, the message was actually from Facebook, but God can and will use whatever means He needs to in order to get His children to listen. I heard His message weeks ago when a handful of people asked me in the same week if I was still writing. Then I heard His message through Beth this week. Today’s message from Him sunk in when I received a notification that said, “1,014 people who like Forgiven Faith haven’t heard from you in a while. Write a post.”

Four hours later that number has increased by five. I don’t know where all these likes have come from. I haven’t posted since November of 2017 and the last I checked it was only in the 300s. My writing is not enough to attract 1,000 readers and I don’t promote, so I don’t know how my likes increased that much. I do know God has used that number to convict me.

God told me four years ago to write. I fumbled through writing for about three years. Some of my posts were terrible, but some were pretty good.

Somewhere along the way, I guess a year ago, I made a grievous error. I listened to a newly published author who is not a faith-based writer or even a faith-based person. That counsel was very discouraging and I have been unable to focus my thoughts on writing since that time. I learned the feel of writers block.

The counsel I received from Beth Moore this week is helping to reverse the impact of the false counsel I internalized all those months ago, however. There are two questions she posed that really spoke to me. The first felt like a knife in the chest and the second, a knife in the back.

“Where are you?”

When Adam and Eve first sinned, when they ate that infamous fruit they immediately knew they were wrong to do it and they hid from God in the garden. God knew exactly where they were but He wanted them to come to Him, so in Genesis chapter one verse nine, “the Lord God called to the man, ‘Where are you?'”

God has been asking me that same question in more ways than I can remember and today He sent it to me by Facebook. I was knowingly ignoring His directions and was not writing. I was coming up with every possible excuse to explain why I had not done what He had instructed just like Adam and Eve did. I had thrust that knife into my own chest.

Then God (and Beth) asked, “Who told you that…? (Genesis 1:11)”

Who told me my writing was unworthy of publishing? Who told me I was doing it all wrong? Who told me I was wasting my time writing faith-based blogs and stories? Who did I allow to stick a knife in my back?

It wasn’t God who said any of those things to me; and, since it wasn’t God, why was I listening?

I’m back. Good or bad blog post, I’m back. I pray I don’t disappoint.

Hot Potato and No Espanol

I immediately felt a little tug on my heart and knew I couldn’t leave her standing there all by herself. I walked over to her, said “Hola” and sat in the dirt beside her so I could be at her eye level. I read the little sticker on her shirt, pointed to her and said “Emyly.”  She smiled and nodded and I pointed toward myself and said “Holly.”  Emyly smiled and started talking. 

The concrete building was a giant echo chamber, but at least it was cooler than it was outside. We hadn’t been outside long and I hoped we wouldn’t be out much longer. My team, the blue team, consisted of four Buckner International volunteers, one Buckner intern volunteer and two interpreters. We had already finished our vacation Bible school story and memory verse sessions. The crafts and shoes would come later after the recreation session we were outside for right now. I was very happy about the game our recreation leader chose. I am not in shape and I trip over oxygen all the time, but hot potato with a balloon was something I could do. One of the interpreters played some music from her phone. When the music stopped, the person stuck with the balloon had to get in the middle of the circle and do their best imitation of the animal chosen by the recreation leader. We had a monkey, an alligator and a handful of others. I was assigned an elephant for my turn in the middle. 

There was something I found very interesting during my time in Guatemala. The parents and grandparents were often just as excited about the activities as the children were. They tried memorizing the Bible verses, they made the crafts and they often played the games. On this day, we had a handful of parents and they played hot potato along with the rest of us. As I watched the balloon make its second clockwise lap around our little circle, I noticed a little girl, maybe four years old, standing in between two women on my right. She looked excited as the balloon headed her direction. As it made its way to the first woman, the little girl raised her hands to take her turn in passing it, but she wasn’t the only one excited. Both of the women she stood between were enjoying the game and were trying to make sure neither of them ended up in the middle of the circle imitating a cow or rooster, so they got rid of that balloon as quickly as possible. They skipped the little girl. The disappointment lasted only a moment on her face, but I still felt bad for her. As the balloon made its laps and the animal-imitators entered and exited center stage, I was distracted. I don’t know if that little girl in the pink shirt and white hat with little butterflies printed on it ever got her turn to pass the balloon. 

After a few rounds, the recreation leader and interpreters decided to try a new game. We played so many games during that week that I honestly don’t remember what the new game was, but I decided to watch from the sidelines and take some pictures and videos. As I was watching, I noticed the little girl in the white hat with the butterflies standing on the sidelines leaning against the side of a nearby building. She was holding the two purses and umbrella that I remember the two women holding during the earlier game, and she quietly watched everyone else enjoying the fun. I immediately felt a little tug on my heart and knew I couldn’t leave her standing there all by herself. I walked over to her, said “Hola” and sat in the dirt beside her so I could be at her eye level. I read the little sticker on her shirt, pointed to her and said “Emyly.”  She smiled and nodded and I pointed toward myself and said “Holly.”  Emyly smiled and started talking. 

If you read my last blog, you know I don’t speak Spanish, so when she stopped talking and looked at me with a look that indicated she was expecting an answer I had no idea what to say. I did the one thing I had become pretty good at in the last few days. I raised my hands palm up, tilted my head, shrugged my shoulders and said “no Espanol.” Emyly tilted her head back, laughed at me and started talking again. She didn’t appear to ask me any more questions, so I guess she understood what I had told her. That didn’t stop her from talking, though, and from pointing at people and things as she talked. I didn’t have any idea what she was telling me until I heard a Spanish word that sounded similar to the English word family. She talked and talked and talked some more, all the time knowing that I had no clue what she was telling me. I did try pointing out my daughter and telling Emyly that I was Megan’s mom, but I couldn’t remember how to even say that. As Emyly watched, I walked to Megan, got her attention and asked how to say that I was her mom. Megan doesn’t remember much of her high school Spanish but she was able to tell Emyly that I was her mother. 

As I sat back down beside Emyly I tried to find things to communicate with her about. When she took her hat off I traced one of the butterflies with my finger, pointed at it, said “butterfly” and tried to find a way to ask her what a butterfly was called in Spanish. I’m not sure if she ever figured out what I was trying to communicate. I didn’t understand another word she said, but that was okay. This may sound odd to you, as my reader, but despite the fact that neither of us understood anything the other was saying, Emyly and I had a really amazing conversation. We talked and we laughed and we enjoyed the brief time we had together. I will never forget little Emyly.

Children are amazing. Their innocence allows them to grab ahold of faith without questioning it and hold on until that innocence is broken. After it is broken, some manage to hold on but many do not. The Gospel of Luke tells of a time when parents were taking their children to Jesus to have Him touch them. “When the disciples saw this, they rebuked them. But Jesus called the children to him and said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it‘ (Luke 18:15b-17).” 

Heaven is for children – God’s children; but unless we can hold on to our faith like an innocent child does, we risk losing our soul. We have to let go of all of the baggage that we carry as adults and just talk to our Heavenly Father, even when we think He isn’t listening or we don’t understand what He is saying. We need to be like little Emyly and just keep talking to Him – even when we don’t have any idea what His answer is. He is listening; and when the time is right, He will make sure we understand exactly what His answer is. Until that time comes, actively spend your time practicing the faith of a child and keep talking to Him. If you do this, He will answer and you will understand…in His time.

NOTE: Thank you, again, WayFM and Buckner International for giving Megan and I this amazing opportunity to serve with you.

“Luke 18:15b-17.” NIV Archeological Study Bible: An Illustrated Walk through Biblical History and Culture. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2005. N. pag. Print.