A Letter of Thanks from the Hillside

I find myself seated on the hillside.  Waiting.  Watching.  Participating with the serenity that is around me.  I take in a deep breath.  The air is full of so much more than just oxygen.  There is pure, undiluted life filling my lungs and clearing the fog in my mind.  I appreciate the hillside so much more after having lived in the pollution down below.  How sweet are the banks of the still waters after the barren wasteland!  My thirsty soul drinks in deeply as if tasting water for the very first time.  Bliss!  The old wounds that have been festering and infecting my whole being are slowly mending.  My sick heart begins to heal as I eat the fruit off the tree of life - hope restored, dreams renewed.

Here on the hillside I can see far into the distance.  As the dusk settles, the twinkling lights of the city down below begin to wake up.  There is a sense of something familiar, like being reminded of something you can't fully remember but the feeling it elicited.  I'm able to look back, back on all that was, the path that I walked for so many long days.  I can still taste the dust from the road, still feel the sun beating on my neck, feel the muscles in my legs sore from long and wearisome days.  But from up here I get to see the road in its entirety.  I see where the path started.  I see where it led.  Many would find pleasure and pride in completing the journey.  But self-accomplishment is far from my heart or mind.  Humility gets caught in my throat as I try to open my mouth and speak.  Gratitude gathers in the corners of my eyes and spills over.  I know all too well that I could still be wandering down there in a futile pursuit of self-effort.

How is it that life is so much more of a question than it is an answer?  And the more you seek for answers, the more questions you run into.  It turns into this endless goose-chase for something concrete that may not even exist.  That is when the despair, the panic and the disillusionment crashes in.  They make for terrible traveling companions, but at least they are committed to you.  At some point you must come into the realization that the destination of "answered questions" is not fact but fiction.  There is no arrival.  There is no happy ending to such a vain quest.

So is all hopeless?  Why do we even set out on this road of life?  

His name is Jesus.  He is the road on which we journey, the map that leads us on the way, the compass that sets our hearts on course.  He is the answer to every question, the ultimate reality of truth.  And He is the destination, the reason we are on this journey, the source and the definition of life.  (John 14:6)  When did we lose our First Love?  When did entitlement rob our affections?   When did we allow our rights to become more important than our relationship?  The right to know, the right to understand, the right to be understood, the right to have our lives all put together.  When did the main thing stop being the main thing?

But here I sit on the hillside.  I’m not sure how I even made it up here.  No, wait... I see it now.  I did finally collapse in the middle of my wasteland.  I couldn’t, I just couldn’t exist that way any longer.  With my eyes half swollen shut and my throat completely parched, I chocked out, “I give up!  I give up trying to find my way out of this endless wilderness.  I give up trying to climb out of this cavity in the ground.  I am here.  However long it takes, God I am here.  I will let YOU lead me out of the desert.”  As my tired head fell back down on my arm I suddenly felt someone’s shoulder lift me by my middle.  Nothing more than a dead weight, all I could do was surrender to this unexpected rescue.  Even now I only remember as though it were a hallucination, my consciousness being so fragile at the time.  He carried me up to the hillside.  In the middle of that empty, barren wasteland I had unknowingly collapsed right at the base of mountain.  And that’s where he found me.

By no means did he ever leave me, not at any one point.  Even on the loneliest bend in the road he was there in step with me, chatting in a lighthearted manner, unhurried, unconcerned about my current situation.  He never over spiritualized a thing.  He was just a friend.  And he became a very dear friend out on that dusty road.  And now I get to enjoy the hillside with my dear friend.  I get to enjoy this place of rest, this harbor for my soul, knowing full well that I do not have myself to thank.  It’s my friend who I get to thank.

Here in this place I have found my weary heart beginning to heal.  He has kissed every scar, rubbed balm on all the infected wounds.  He has reminded me of who I am; in all my weaknesses and brokenness I am still the one he chooses.  He has stripped me of those filthy rags that clung to my flesh, the rags of ambition, entitlement, offense, disillusionment.  He has unlocked those deep places in my heart where I store the things I love, the things that make me come alive, the things that make me me.  And He has painted rainbows in my sky, hopes that have materialized into dreams being realized.

Thank you my dear friend.  Thank you my one true love.  All I know to do in response is tell you thank you.

Post missions rambling

This past month I have gone into hibernation in many different areas, my blog being one of them.  Maybe I have been rebelling against my love for writing.  Maybe I have run out of things to say.  Maybe the transition of coming home from the mission field has been too much for me to process on a public diary.  Maybe the inspiration has checked out.
Maybe we'll never know...

But for now I'll tell you that, yes, I have been home in Colorado for the past month.  My chapter in Ecuador, that brought me so much growth and reason to love being called to the nations alongside of many difficult challenges and painful pruning, has come to an end.  For the past month I have been at home, licking my wounds and relearning how to connect to my heart.  I have been facing many fears and been learning how to let Jesus fight on my behalf.  I have, for now, set my bloody sword down and sit waiting for whatever lies ahead.

"So Ellie, what are your plans?  What's next?"  This arrow flies at me from a thousand different angles (including coming from myself), penetrating what's left of my armor.  I stagger from the impact of such a loaded question.

I have chosen not to choose.  I have decided not to decide.  As hard as that is for me, my life is not my own, my future belongs to Jesus.  It is a scary place to be in, not knowing.  It is the very place that you get to test drive your TRUST.  Hopefully it works.  If not, we're all screwed.  There is no plan B.  My eggs happen to be in one basket, which may be pretty risky, but it's all I know is sure.  Everything else is simply too faulty.

So I guess part of the reason I haven't written lately is that I don't have any of the answers.  My world is foggy and I don't have anything figured out.  And for me, that is a pretty vulnerable place to be in, leaving me wordless and/or speechless.  But I choose not to live in denial, instead choosing to face my reality and be completely honest with myself.  I will not hide from this feeling of helplessness and weakness.  I choose to be real in a world full of fraud.  It's not easy, but it is my life source.

I sat down to write about my half marathon (haha).  It's interesting to see what comes out when you actually start to write.  Maybe all of that was just a bunch of ramblings.  Maybe it was more.  Maybe it was important for me to say.  Maybe putting all of that into writing will be a turning point.
Maybe we'll never know...

Jesus loves hanging out in prisons...

Saturday morning we walked down the very uneven, dirt pathway to the big black gate that served as the doors into the girls prison.  We waited at the door for the guards to let us pass through into the outer courtyard.  What had always been just a plain courtyard for as long as we had been coming, was now lined with beautiful flowers and shrubbery.    Over the past month we had noticed this simple transformation that spoke of a greater transformation, one just as beautiful as the vibrant new gardens that splashed colors of life in what society might see as a lifeless institution.

Three of the girls we have come to cherish and love were out in the courtyard raking and sweeping.  As soon as they saw us, they came running at us, laughing and chattering, teasing us about this and that as they greeted us with the kind of hugs that sisters give each other when they haven’t seen one another in forever.  They truly are so precious.  Each girl has a beautiful name and face; each girl has a story of untold hurt and tragedy; each girl is marked by the injustices of life; and each girl has dreams for a beautiful, hope-filled future.  I love the way this Latin culture greets one another - it’s always with a kiss on the cheek.  Each time we get to kiss each of the girls, it’s as if we are kissing the beauty and the hope and the value and the dreams back to life.  It’s as if we are saying, “I see your outer appearance, all your scars, all your protective walls that try to keep love out.  And I love you in spite of all of that, because I see something else.  I see the light that is inside of you, a glimmer but still alive.  I see the beautiful girl that longs to dance in the freedom of love.”

From there, we walked hand in hand into where the other girls were waiting for us.  Again, I am so blown away by the simple things that mark the transformation that has been taking place.  Just a few short months ago we might might have been greeted by a few girls as we set up for the art program, some might just wave without any sign of excitement, some might just walk off and pretend they didn’t see us, and it would take a good 20 minutes to actually get all the girls in the room and sitting down.  Now, as soon as we come, they all come running to greet us and are ready for us by the time we get into the room where we do our activities.  They are ready and eager for whatever the day holds.

This Saturday we wanted to celebrate.  We wanted to celebrate everything that had happened in the girls lives - the moments of breakthrough where we all wept as the Holy Spirit healed their hearts, and the moments of freedom where we all danced and spun around the room as the Holy Spirit set them free.  We wanted to celebrate our relationships - the love and friendship that had bloomed through the simplicity of being with one another.  Basically, we wanted to celebrate life together.  So that looked like running around like crazies, doing a whole assortment of races and relay games; we definitely drew out the competitive side in the girls!  But we had so much fun just playing together.  And then having chocolate cake and soda together in the dining room where they had decked the place out with balloons and art work.

Gifts the girls made for us

Then they surprised us.  And for the next half hour I was completely undone by love.    

As one girl after the next stood up in front of the other 37 girls, to present us with a gift that they had made for us and a word of what we meant to them, I was hit with a wave of Jesus’ love.  This is what it looked like - She would raise her hand to speak next, and once called upon, she would scoot her chair back, get up and walk around the table so that she could stand and face all of us.  She came with nervous giggles from having to speak in front of so many people, but a strong resolve to say what she wanted to say.  As she started to speak, looking into our faces, she choked on tears and couldn’t continue.  After a few words from us encouraging her, she continued in a wavering voice.  “I want to thank all of you for giving up your lives and your homes to come here to be with us.  Before you came, I felt so alone here.  I didn’t know what love was like.  But every time you came I felt love.  I saw that God was real.  I know I’m not alone now.  I know that I can have dreams.  You helped me learn all of this.”  With that she handed one us the gift she made and then gave each one of us a hug, tears still streaming down her face.

This happened again, and again, and again.  I lost track of how many girls shared their testimonies and thanked us for loving them.

It didn’t even feel real.  We are in a girls prison right now?  These are girls that have sold drugs, robbed, murdered and who else know what?  These girls?  The ones who are sobbing in our arms, thanking us for loving them?  It felt more like testimonies from a revival meeting.  The prayers that they prayed were more powerful than a lot of prayers you hear in churches.  How could this be happening here?

And another thing... I have felt so inadequate.  Each time I have come to the prison, I have felt like - what do I really have to offer?  I speak Spanish, but not well enough to really know these girls and be able to speak into their lives personally.  I have not known the right words to say even with a translator.  I have wanted to pray for and see crazy miracles and breakthroughs.  But mostly it has been sitting with one of the girls as she paints.  Or walking around the tables and praying, saying how beautiful their art is and smiling at each girl.  I have spent one-on-one time with a handful of girls, but many of them I don’t know that I have ever had a conversation with them.  But to my surprise it was those girls that told me specifically how I changed their lives.

It makes you realize a lot about the Jesus that we serve.  He isn’t spending all His time in church.  He isn’t standing behind a pulpit preaching.  He is in the prisons, in the red-light districts, in the slums, in the nursing homes.  He spends His time simply sitting with the broken, not offering advice like a counselor in an office.  His love truly is enough!  The most hopeless situations are His specialty.  He loves using dirt to make something beautiful or mud to heal blind eyes.  And He asks us to join us in that place.  We don’t have to be something special to sit in the dirt with Him, or even influence influential leaders with Him.  It doesn’t matter who or where, Him in us is always enough.  

Justice Stirring

This weekend was the 14th year anniversary of the tragedy that happened at Columbine High School with the shooting and killing of 12 students and 1 teacher.  I still remember that day so very clearly even though I was still a baby, only 7 years old.

We were waiting in our family van in the parking lot at Einstein's Bagels - 5 hungry kids waiting for our mother to bring us our favorite chocolate chip bagels after an entire morning spent at the dentist's office.  I remember swinging my legs outside the car door and looking up as helicopters flew right overhead.  "Hey, it's the news!"  I shouted excitedly and waved with both arms.  Within a few minutes I saw my mom running out toward our car in complete hysterics.  My first thought was - something happened to the baby!  My mom was literally one week away from having my baby sister, and so my little 7-year old mind jumped to the only thing I could imagine would send my mom over the edge like that.  "Maybe something really bad happened to the baby," I thought.  But it wasn't the tragedy of a woman's womb this time...

I don't remember how my mom explained what had just happened to a van full of little kids, but we soon discovered that a there were gunmen at the high school a couple blocks away from where we were.  There had been students who had just run into the bagel shop screaming for help.  That was the reason for the helicopters.  That was the reason for my mom's hysterics.  I remember the entire 30 minute drive home, sitting in somber silence, listening to the local news over the radio, wondering what was going to happen.

That day crashed upon our community like a furious tidal wave coming upon an unsuspecting beach town.  Everyone was affected.  This was not just something we heard about on the news in some distant nation.  This was real.  This was personal.  Everyone either knew one of the students either directly, through a family member or through a friend of friend.  For my family, it was Rachel Scott.  Her mom had been a part of our church.

This tragedy was not only so horrific because of the nearness of it all, but the blow took on an even more personal note.  Many of these high school students believed in Jesus.  When the barrel of the gun was pointed at their faces, they were directed with the question - Do you believe?  And those who said "yes" died that day.  The blood of these modern day martyrs was spilt in a high school library instead of in a Roman colosseum.

In the weeks that followed that historic day, a movement started.  Youth from around the country were radically impacted by the tragedy that had happened in my hometown in Colorado.  A call went out from my church, challenging the youth to "pick up the torch" that students like Rachel Scott had so passionately carried.  The response was incredible.  There were events where hundreds of kids rallied around this call.  Songs were written out of the movement.  Apathetic youth were turning to Jesus with a new passion.

Like I said before, I was only 7 years old during this time.  But I remember the mark that was being engraved upon my heart.  That torch that they talked about was starting to burn in my own heart.  I wanted to be a part of the events and the movement, but I was too little.  I remember thinking how I couldn't wait to grow up so that I could be a part of what was happening.  I wanted to carry the torch.

Ever since then, tragedies and injustices have always stirred my heart.  Whenever I hear the statistics or the breaking news about some tragedy, I feel that same passion rising up inside of me that had first been awakened in me all those years ago.  What can I do?  How can I be a part of the answer?  It wasn't til years later that I realized that this was actually God's heart of JUSTICE.

The issue of justice fills every book of the Bible...
God loves justice.  
What does the Lord require of you but to do justice...?
He has established His thrown on justice.
Blessed are those who observe justice.
The Lord works righteousness and justice for all the oppressed.

Just open the book and you will find it; you cannot miss it.  It seems to be on every page, grabbing you by the collar and begging you to listen.  And yet, do we even know what it means?  Are we practicing it in our personal lives?  Can we find it in our churches?  Are we leading the world in doing it?

One of my favorite definitions of justice is that it is the restoration of every violation of love.
The shooting of innocent school students is a violation of love.
Millions of starving children is a violation of love.
The woman dying of cancer is a violation of love.
The man without a job is a violation of love.
The thousands trafficked into sex slavery is a violation of love.

Where does it end?
It ends with us.
Just read Isaiah 58.  It's pretty straightforward.

So looking back at Columbine, I can't help but wonder, why is it STILL happening?  The injustice is that there are still gunmen running around.  The injustice is that we haven't come up with solutions.  I don't want to sound over dramatic, but the blood of those kids IS crying out for justice.  What are we doing to actively bring Biblical justice to our society?

Today I am starting a 40 day period of prayer and fasting for God to start a justice movement on the earth.  It is time for us to actually look at the injustices around us.  It is time to be stirred with indignation at the little that is being done.  It is time to become the answer because we carry the Restorer of love inside of us.  His name is Jesus and He is dying to make all the wrongs in this world right.  He already paid the price.  It is injustice that we are not fully living in the victory of what He finished.  Justice is giving Jesus what He paid for.

Seeing in circles

It's always so surreal when you feel like you are in a moment of coming full circle.  You look around, you take everything in, you remember what it was like when you started the circle, and now you get to look back and all the way around.  One year ago I started my journey in Ecuador on my Bethel missions trip.  I remember what it was like.  I remember the experiences.  I remember the faces.  I remember how my heart felt as God showed me His love for this nation.  I remember thinking, "I will never be the same after this."  Little did I know what "this" would turn into.

Two and a half weeks ago we had a group of fresh faces from Bethel arrive to this beautiful Ecuadorian land.  The same missions trip that started everything for me, but this time being on the other side, my internship behind me and having to face it's near conclusion.  I wasn't at all sure what to expect in having a short term Bethel missions team coming.  I knew it would be good, but what would I feel, what would I see, what would be different now that I have lived here and sown here for 7 months?

I think I saw, felt and experienced more in these past two weeks than I have in a long time.

I don't know that I can fully write down or explain everything that happened while the team was here, but if I had to label anything I would say that I'm pretty sure my heart went through surgery.  And I didn't even realize how much I was needing that surgery until I was right in the middle of the operation.  First of all, this team loved so well, laid down their lives in such and beautiful way, and filled me up in every way possible.  

Their words still ring in my ears - "Thank you for plowing the ground.  Thank you for your faithfulness.  Thank you for loving this nation."  It is incredible the power in them simply honoring what they saw in our work.  Instead of coming to Ecuador with an agenda of seeing amazing miracles, I am convinced that they came for us.  That may sound selfish, but every time they loved on our girls at the prison, or the kids on the streets, or the old people in the mountains, all the people that we have loved - they were loving on us.  It screamed the message to us that everything we have been fighting for, everything we have been giving ourselves to, has been worth it.  Nothing is wasted.

It makes all wrongs right, turns all sorrow into joy, makes all the hours of hard work completely worth it when you see the fruit of your labor.  Maybe it's how a mother feels after the months of pregnancy and then the agony of the birthing process and then to hold her own flesh and blood and to look into the face of life.  Maybe it's how Jesus felt when He received the joy that was set before Him that helped Him endure the brutality of the Cross.  For me it was sitting in the girls jail with my arms wrapped around one of our dear ones and feeling her melt under the the love that charged the atmosphere.  It was watching the girls in the prison weep uncontrollably as the men on the team repented for all the men that had hurt them in their lives.  It was seeing the power of guilt and shame break as the men washed the girls' feet and the women prophesied over each one that they are pure and washed from all sin.  That is the moment that you know with everything inside of you that it was all worth it.

The lies of discouragement, hopelessness and despair that try to make themselves at home in your heart are exposed and uprooted in the light of that kind of extravagant faithfulness, displayed by our perfect Father.  I am truly undone by His goodness and just cannot thank Him enough for all that He has done, is doing and has yet to do.  These kind of testimonies stir up hope inside of your soul - If God is this good, what more is possible?  What kind of impossibilities can I set on fire with the testimony of His goodness?  How can I declare war on the enemy with the weapon of hope?

So here I am, at the completion of a beautiful circle.  It makes me think that we should view our lives through circles, always seeing where the Lord has brought us as we look back on everything that we have fought through.  Not that we need to measure and compare growth, but it truly is encouraging when you see where you started and how far you've come.  Whether that be through reading back in old journal entries, or through remembering testimonies in the past, or through spending time with the people who have gone to hell and back with you.  Truly taking in the circles of your life's processes reminds you of God's goodness and propels you onto what He has next.  We are never stuck.  We are always moving forward in His perfect will.  Sometimes it just takes a little bit of perspective to see where we truly are.

Just become a friend.

Her name is Marilena...
The first time I met her she was a shy 15 year old girl, big hazel eyes, wild "Shirley Temple" curls, and a smile that, although was reserved, lit up the entire room.  She wasn't outgoing like some of the other girls, grabbing everyone's attention in the room.  Nor was she completely disconnected like still some others, so broken that all they could do was cry.  Of course every girl was completely different; their stories, although similar in many ways, were altogether unique.  And each responded to her circumstances in a different manner, not one being right and the other wrong.  Yet there was something about Marilena that stirred my heart and drew me to her from that initial encounter.

Marilena had been human trafficked...  She was sold into slavery, forced into prostitution.  That's why she was there at the rehab center, same with all the girls.  What horrors, abuse and trauma she experienced most of us will never be able to fully comprehend.  What kind of evil could perpetrate this most astonishing abomination, that could take a child of innocence and force her to become a child of many sorrows, a child of utter defilement, a child of darkness?  My initial concern was - where do I even begin to relate to such a girl?  Or how can I even begin to offer healing to her heart?  It's like that overwhelming feeling that comes over you as you take in the wreckage left in the wake of a hurricane or a tornado, and then asking yourself - where do we even start?  It's almost scary.

That's how I felt when we started going to the girl's rehab on a weekly basis to spend time with these girls.  I didn't know what to expect or what to offer them.  But then I met Marilena.  Even though she was just as much in the aftermath of her own tragedy as the other girls, I could still see the little girl behind her timid smile.  In her eyes was a curiosity about the love that we spoke of and a hunger for friendship.  She undid all my guards.

We started our friendship by her teaching me Spanish words and me teaching her English words.  Each week we would come back and quiz each other to see if we remembered our vocabulary from the week before.  Her favorite words were, "eyes," "nose," "smile," "how are you?" and "I love you."  We laughed over our mistakes and had simple conversations about life.  I didn't have to offer some mysterious key to healing or freedom.  She just wanted a friend.  That was enough.

As the weeks went by, we continued to offer simple love and friendship to each of these girls.  Some weeks we spoke on identity and purpose.  Other weeks we had times of worship and prayer over the girls.  Other weeks we did art to stimulate creativity or played crazy games to stimulate silliness and girlieness.  On one of the weeks we did art, Marilena painted me a picture (I still have it tucked away in my journal) that said how much she loves me and misses me when I'm not there.  One of the weeks we spoke on purpose and dreams, Marilena told me that her dreams were to fly in an airplane and to become a veterinarian.  I saw her tenderness in the way that she cared for one of the other girl's baby boy.  Each week she would be the first to greet me, running up and giving me the biggest hug.  Each week she was the last to say goodbye, holding onto me saying, "Please don't leave!"  And each week my heart fell more in love with this beautiful girl.

The last week before I left Ecuador to spend Christmas at home in Colorado, we had a special Christmas party for the girls.  We spent a couple hours cutting out snowflakes with the girls and decorating the dining room for our Turkey feast.  The atmosphere should have been one of joy and festivities, but there was so much sadness in the girls eyes as they knew we were leaving soon.  The whole day Marilena was at my side.  At one point she whispered in my ear, "I won't be here when you come back.  They tell me I'm leaving by the end of this month.  I don't know where I'm going to go.  I may never see you again!  Please don't go!"  How do you respond to that?

When the time came to say goodbye, Marilena held onto me with tears streaming down her face.  "Always remember me as your favorite little sister.  You are my favorite older sister and I will never forget you!"  My heart broke at the desperation I saw in her and so many of the girls that day.  We had brought love to them that maybe they had never experienced in that way before.  When we were with them they were safe.  And now we were leaving.  Where did that leave them?  All during my time at home over Christmas I struggled with that thought.  But I had to come to the place where I knew Jesus was enough.  It wasn't necessarily our love that these girls had been experiencing.  It was the sweet love of Jesus that would never leave them nor would it forsake them.  I clang to that truth.

When I came back to Ecuador in January, I was ready to go back to the girls.  My heart hurt as I knew Marilena wouldn't be there, but I loved each of them so much and just wanted to see their faces.  Then a month went by, then two.  New restrictions in the system, miscommunications and scheduling problems stood in the way from our team going back.  It came to the point where we all wondered if we would get to go back at all.  But last week we finally were able to go to the rehab center with the promise that we could come back every week!  It was such a strange feeling that we all had as we were driving to the center last Monday afternoon.  We had loved these girls so much, but we knew that most of them, if not all, would have left by this time.  They would be all new faces to us.  Yet we also knew that we would be able to love each one of them with the same love Jesus had given us before.

We walked behind the guard through the multiple different doors that lead us inside, still wondering what to expect.  And then... I saw her around the corner, that sweet, beautiful smiling face.  Marilena ran towards me and we fell into each other's arms, laughing with so much joy and excitement to see one another.  I couldn't believe that she was there!  And to our surprise, 6 of the girls that we had known were still there and were completely overjoyed to see us.  We were told that they asked about us every week.  They all hung onto us, asking why we hadn't come for so long.  What could we tell them?  It didn't even matter though.  It felt like coming home.  And the 15 other girls were so unbelievably sweet and open to us coming into their lives.  We all felt like we had known each other for years by our time was over.  It was so beautiful to see Jesus' promises manifest as you could see that His love truly had continued to minister to them even without us coming.

Marilena sat with me and we talked as if we had never been apart.  We told each other how much we had missed one another and how we had been praying for the other.  And then she said something that completely blew me away.  "My dreams have been becoming real," she told me.  "A month ago they told me I was going somewhere.  I didn't know where they were taking me.  And then we showed up at the airport.  I didn't know why.  But then they told me that they were surprising me and sending me on an airplane to the coast for a visit.  I flew on an airplane for the first time!"  She couldn't believe it and neither could I!  We had spoken to these girls over and over again of the importance of dreaming; that when they dreamed, anything could happen.  And God was backing that statement!  She also told me that when she leaves the center in a couple months, she is going to go back to school and will eventually study to become a veterinarian.  She was spilling over with happiness as she told me about these evidences of her life moving forward into a hope filled future.

This has been our prayer for the girls all along! - that they wouldn't remain victims to their circumstances, but that they would receive healing through the love of Jesus and be empowered to live beautifully whole lives.  And here it is becoming reality right before our eyes!

This is so like Jesus.  He was the greatest friend this world ever beheld.  We complicate everything and think that we need to have answers for everyone and their problems.  But Jesus so simplified the Gospel.  He demystified it in this one command... Love!  Just become a friend to people.  That's all you have to offer.  The world is hungry for a "friend who sticks closer than a brother."  No strings attached.  No agenda to see the other person "fixed" or even (dare I say it?) saved.  Just be a friend.  It will bring down all the guards.  It will undo all the defenses.  You can fight theology but you can't fight friendship.

This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you. This is the very best way to love. Put your life on the line for your friends. You are my friends when you do the things I command you. I’m no longer calling you servants because servants don’t understand what their master is thinking and planning. No, I’ve named you friends because I’ve let you in on everything I’ve heard from the Father.

John 15:12-15

Just Say Yes

Six months ago from today I found myself seated on an American Airlines flight from Denver to Quito, wondering what on earth I was doing there.  A million thoughts ran through my mind.  Had I really heard God's voice?  Had I chosen the right door to walk through?  I felt one half crazy and the other half freaked out of my mind.  In a way, I felt like a baby bird flying the nest, so uncertain of my ability to fly.  All I knew was that I had said Yes to Jesus and if that meant going to South America for 1 year, I would do it.  But that Yes felt like it was costing me something.  That Yes had felt so difficult to say.  It took every ounce of my strength to force that one simple syllable out through my lips and direct it toward one specific decision.  But out it came and I didn't look back.

In my time here I have exercised my "Yes" muscle over and over again.  Countless times over the past 6 months I have come upon things that absolutely scare me and I will hear the Holy Spirit whisper to me - Ellie, will you trust me?  And each time I choose to say Yes, He backs me up with the grace to actually do what I said Yes to.  My Yes has not stopped being scary, but my certainty in the strength of His presence has grown to the point that it drowns out the voice of fear.  The rate of response has become faster and faster and with greater confidence.  It has looked something like this...

Ellie, will you jump?  Will you trust me?
"That was a crazy thought!  That must have been me.  That couldn't have been you, God.  But Jesus, that doesn't make any sense!  I can't.  There's no way I could be brave enough.  Jesus really?  Ah, OK, Yes!"
Ellie, will you jump?  Will you trust me?
"That was a crazy thought!  That must have been me.  That couldn't have been you, God.  But Jesus, that doesn't make any sense!  Jesus really?  Ah, OK, Yes!"
Ellie, will you jump?  Will you trust me?
"That was a crazy thought!  But Jesus, that doesn't make any sense!  Jesus really?  Ah, OK, Yes!"
Ellie, will you jump?  Will you trust me?
"That was a crazy thought!  Jesus really?  Ah, OK, Yes!"

My daily run :)

A week ago I was on a run (side note: I'm training for a half-marathon!!!) and I was just talking with Jesus and thinking about my life here in Ecuador (sometimes I can't believe that my life is for real).  It was just a normal run and a normal conversation with Jesus, but then I stepped into that same crazy-Yes-moment that had caught me by surprise so many times before.

Ellie, will you give up your Spanish classes?
Wait, what?
This thought felt crazy in many ways, but two felt unanswerable.
1)  What on earth would I do with my time?  Spanish classes fill up most of my schedule for the week, coming to around 5 hours a day, 5 days a week.  I can't just drop my classes without having a plan for what I would be doing with my time!
And 2) I'm still not fluent!!!!  Jesus knows the dreams and the desires of my heart.  How could He ask me to lay this down after all the hard work I've put into it and the fact that I still haven't reached my dream?
Ellie, will you jump?  Will you trust me?

I told Jesus I would pray about it.  After I told Him that, I realized how ridiculous that was since He would be the one I would pray to about it...

6 months ago I would have either brushed off the thought as irrational and nonsensical OR I would have strapped myself into a seat of worrying, reasoning, figuring it out, going through all the pros and cons, etcetera and etcetera.  I've come to realize that it's better to say Yes and jump without thinking.  Obviously, making calculated decisions is always a good idea.  But I want to get to that place where whenever Jesus says jump, I jump without asking.  No, it normally doesn't make sense.  But God cannot be limited and fit into the box of sense.

So I said Yes...  Yes without knowing what would be waiting for me.  Yes without knowing where my feet would land.  Yes even though He had yet to show me why.  Yes Jesus Yes!  Let everything within me be Yes!

Praying over Quito

Just say yes, just say there's nothing holding you back
It's not a test, nor a trick of the mind
Only love
It's so simple and you know it is
You know it is
We can't be to and fro like this
All our lives
You're the only way to me
The path is clear
What do I have to say to you
For Gods sake, dear- Snow Patrol "Just Say Yes"


Once I made the decision to give up my Spanish classes, I had two visions, one of Jesus handing me a map of Quito and the other of Jesus handing me a treasure map.  He invited me on a faith adventure.  What would it look like to get up each morning and ask Holy Spirit, “where we are going to go today?”  And then walk with Him wherever He leads me in the city of Quito?  Maybe I will take a couple of buses to get there.  Maybe I will walk for a couple of hours.  Maybe the treasure will be a person that He wants me to talk with.  Maybe the treasure will be a place where I will pray and bring His kingdom.  I don't know, but I said Yes and now I can't wait!

Let’s go find uncharted territory together
Let’s throw all the plans out the window
I don’t need to pack my bags
I have all that I need, I have your voice

My heart has been captured by this city and these people.  I want to see freedom come to this land.  I want to see the sons and daughters of God rise up and take there place.  I want to see revolution fill the streets, ringing with the sound of justice.  I am just so excited for what this adventure with Jesus is going to turn into.  I just love how He always leads us by His goodness whenever we say Yes as He holds out His hand.  Yes is never the wrong answer.  Yes to Him will always prove to be right.  It will feel crazy and wild and out of control, but that's how it should be.  Yes is so much fun!

Just say YES!