Habakkuk 2:13, 14 (NIV)

"Has not the LORD Almighty determined that the people's labor is only fuel for the fire,

that the nations exhaust themselves for nothing?

For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the LORD,

as the waters cover the sea."

Bethel's thoughts: No matter how hard I work (or how lazy I am), no matter how good I am or how full of mistakes, God says he'll still fill the world with knowledge of him. I just need to stand back and watch. :)

Five days at headquarters

Driving through Iowa is more fun than most people realize. There's a great deal of sky that you don't see when you live in a river valley, and if you drive over half the state in one day, you get to see the sky a variety of colors. I passed an Amish event (the farmyard looked like a sale lot for carriages), I got stuck behind the slowest Missouri driver I've ever seen, and I saw a set of crosses with an empty, open tomb below; a statue of Jesus standing in front of it with his hands raised to heaven. This was in southern Iowa, arguably the top of the Bible belt.

I feel blessed to drive through Iowa on my way to and from Missouri this week, and not just for the beautiful sunlight and scenery. I got to visit my grandmother on the way down, and she seems to be doing well, despite the health difficulties and chemotherapy treatments. My grandfather I didn't get to see. He's back in the hospital and I don't know if he'll be out for Thanksgiving. It's starting to hit home for me that their days on earth are not long, and what they have left is going to be difficult for them and all the family around them. I cried much of the way to headquarters after that visit, which means that (yay for pale skin!) my eyelids are STILL puffy and darkly circular three days later.

Admittedly, it wasn't the best way to start my week at missionary candidate school, but the first official day was still excellent. I met a couple of my fellow candidates at breakfast, and we got to chat during prayer card photos. I've seen our former state director at meals (she now works at headquarters), and a couple of friends who are working here now have stopped to talk with me in the halls.

Thoughts on "The Indomitable Mr. O", by Norman Rohrer

    Life is hard when a person denies love; when they can't accept grace and insist on being enough by themselves. This seems to be a theme in the story of J. Irvin Overholtzer; he refused his parents' help and love (even when he desperately needed it), he doubted his salvation was “perfect” enough since it relied on his deeds, and he doubted whether he should even seek converts since “the best I had to offer them was to... start working for their salvation as I was doing” (The Indomitable Mr. O, pg. 57). I think that to begin (and continue) a relationship with Christ means admitting brokenness and a personal inability to face life's challenges. But even more painful is knowing that love is just around the corner, and still choosing to stay right where you are. Mr. O learned that the hard way.

My new catchprase?

Next month I'm heading down to CEF headquarters in Warrenton, Missouri, to start some support-raising training!

But before I can do that, I need a new catchphrase uh, vision statement, in 20 words or less.

September

 I didn't complete this and post it last month because it felt a little personal, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to edit a lot of this out. Now that I'm looking at this at the end of October, this post is a perfect reminder to me of how far God has taken me in the last two months, as far as my financial situation is concerned. I never expected Him to take care of me during a financial crunch, and I certainly never expected His generous outpouring the last few weeks, thanks to my local CEF committee. But enough of now; here's my life from last month:

 Hudson Taylor was the "missionary of the summer" for 5-day club this year. He is also, in a Protestant sense if there is such a thing, the patron saint of having no money.

   I used to say to my friends with great jocularity, "Guys, I don't have any money." Then I'd, on occasion, take a sister to the movies or buy treats for a group of summer missionaries, because well, I had a little non-designated cash. Now, I can honestly say "I have no money." My bank account is almost empty.

   Why am I OK with this? I'll say one thing; I'm more than OK. I'm taken care of, I'm even satisfied. That sounds ridiculous; I'm even laughing at myself tonight; but it's true. Maybe it's selfish. I don't even know.