Redeemed from the Pit

I'm friends with a lovely woman of God named Marie who struggled with bulimia for seventeen years before God broke the chains. Now she's dedicated so much of her time to help young women enslaved to sin.

Her blog is FABULOUS for any Christian looking for encouragement and help in overcoming eating disorders -- which simply cannot be overcome completely without Jesus Christ.

Please check out her blog, Redeemed from the Pit. It's great! She also wrote a book that hopefully will be on the shelves soon!

Yay for God making beauty from ashes!

Mi Diario de la Republica Dominicana

Note: This is a revised version of my journal entries. Because journaling is my place to vent, my entries included some personal and possibly offensive things that are not for the public eye. However, they also were my initial reactions to the events of this trip and therefore are the most accurate and heartfelt. So, like Anne Frank's dad, I am simply rewording and/or taking out some things so it may be published. Enjoy!

el diez de julio, 2011
Phew.
I am in my DR bed. The bed I've been anxiously awaiting for two weeks. And it feels so good.
Literally right before I left my house for church this morning at two, I started to lose my voice. No idea why. I feel fine other than my throat. Of course typical Liz went and talked up a storm all day, despite her voice increasingly and continuously deteriorating. Right now it's pretty much shot. It's incredibly painful to get even a slightest sound out of my mouth, and that sound is pretty pathetic. I don't know what God's reasoning is for this, and frankly, it would be absolutely pointless to try and figure it out. I'll just have to wait and see what happens. And my other thoughts on this will come when whatever happens happens.

We had a ridiculously long day of travel today, but it was really pretty smooth. Our flight went much faster because we got a tailwind, and we got absolutely no traffic on the bus ride to Barahona (as opposed to last year). We are all exhausted. Rightly so.
I feel like I'm home. This little mountaintop is just how I left it, and I feel like I was here yesterday. This is what I was made for. Something radical happened in my heart as I was taking in my surroundings upon first arriving, and I don't know, I just don't know where God is going to be taking me. For the longest time I've been so set on the whole graduate high school, go to Messiah College or somewhere cool like that, go on mission trips and do ministry, get my BSN, get a nursing job, get married and have kids and write books and speak. Quick, before these years swallow me up and instead of gazing into my baby's eyes, I'm gazing into my baby's baby's eyes. Quick, before I die.
And maybe I will do that. That is not a bad life to live. Or maybe I will do something much more radical. Maybe I will be a missionary in some foreign land that needs love. Love is so much more powerful than it's ever made out to be. And yet it is so accessible.
Maybe I should slow down.
Taking time for spiritual growth when you could be doing more "practical" things like going to school or making babies often looked at as a time waster. And that is really sad.
And I don't know what this means, but I've never felt more at home anywhere but here. Even though all the food and climate differences can make me sick, I don't speak the language, and the culture is hard to adapt to. This is my home.
So I can't talk. I can listen, think, feel, pray, write, and worship in my heart. And for now, that is more than enough for me.
"Everything rides on hope now. Everything rides on faith somehow." ~Addison Road

el once de julio, 2011 -- Bridget's 16th birthday!
Watching and listen to people worship is a really amazing thing. I can't explain it, but I am really blessed by this voice loss right now.
Today we went out street witnessing and I really just felt a need to go and be a "silent witness." So I went and listened and prayed. And I was blessed.
People have prayed over me and my voice several times today, and it has been so encouraging. I'm a bit frustrated and discouraged, but I'm giving it over to God.

I really learned a lot today about when helping hurts when we fed the people. It was stressful, but we were more than conquerors through Christ Jesus.
Bill did a devotional tonight for the team about spiritual productivity -- both here and at home. I've been thinking a lot about being radical for Jesus. It's an amazing thing. When a believer truly continuously picks up her cross and obeys and served God radically, it eventually become that what once was radical is now self-satisfying and it's a beautiful thing, that process. I really want to partake in it, because I think it is one of the best ways to grow in the Lord.

trece de julio, 2011
Last night I wasn't really in a writing mood, but tonight it is vital.
Today is hump day, which by definition means it starts to get hard.
I miss my mommy so much. I don't want to go home yet, but I just want to hear her voice. I just really need the reassurance and love that only my mommy can provide.
None of this was affecting me this morning. I was slightly homesick and looking forward to hearing from my mom, but I was absolutely fine and went on with ministry as normal. Encouragement has been applied wrong to me today, and I'm not a fan of being patronized. So that was something I've had to give over to God.
Oh yeah, I got my voice back. Praise the Lord!

Today I was given the opportunity to just love on the kids, in particular one chico named Michael. He is SO friendly and loving, and I love him so much. So many young souls were saved tonight at VBS, and Bill prayed that God will reunite us with one of those precious children when we meet Him.
God is good. And I am tired, bitter, homesick, burnt and bitten. But God is still good. And really, that is nothing compared to all He went through for me. So I'll suck it up, be joyful, and praise God.

el quince de julio, 2011
Yesterday I got to share my testimony with the kids -- that was cool. There is a horrible stomach bug going around and I'm praying that no one else gets it. The trip is almost over -- today was our last ministry day. It went so fast. One part of me feels like we haven't been here nearly long enough and wants to stay here for at least another month. But another part of me is totally ready to go home. And still another part thinks of Mother Teresa and reprimands myself for needing the reprieve of "la casa de Bill" (as los dominicanos call it) every day and wanting to come home so bad after a week.

It's sad for me to see Satan creeping into the team. And in the most unexpected ways. He is trying to stop us from loving on the people, and a lot of people are not recognizing that this is wrong. Love is the only thing we have. It's so sad to see people buying into his lies say it's okay to make compromises in love. Love made with compromises is not love. Jesus told us there would be a price to pay. And what a small price it is compared to the one He paid.
"I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who lives, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." ~Galatians 2:20
Couldn't have said it better myself. If we've come here to do anything besides pour out love onto this mountaintop until it hurts, then we've wasted our time and money.
The Lord also made this verse come alive to me today:
"What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ -- the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith." ~Philippians 3:8-9

el diescisiete de julio, 2011
Now I am on the plane with very mixed emotions. I'm excited to go home but sad to leave.

Yesterday we went to the beach, and it was absolutely breathtaking. We went to see Pastor Pedro's orphanage, and it was amazing to see all the progress that has been made on it. I can't describe the feeling I had to be able to say, "I worked on this before there was even a complete foundation, and now it's almost done," and then to talk to Pastor Pedro about his hopes of children to start coming in in May. Yesterday was a great day.
Helen shared about a man who knows Christ but struggles with life-dominating sin. Before she even had time to make judgements, she said, he showed her his scarred, callused, and crusty knees injured from his constant kneeling on the dirty, rocky and unpaved ground to repent and cry out to Jesus for help. Last night, in honor of him, we all formed a circle kneeling on the clean tile floor of our dining room and thanked our Lord for a mere ten or fifteen minutes. After that, we all truly understood and appreciated this man's love and humility before God.
Holly shared about a little girl she developed a relationship  with throughout the week, who as most of the children, always wanted to be by her side. Whenever Holly would stray away subconsciously, she would shortly thereafter find this chica chasing behind her with a big smile on her face and a cheerful "Hola!" What a beautiful picture, Holly said, of her own relationship with her Savior.
Jesus Christ is the Master Teacher, and as such, He always asks me to evaluate what I've learned from Him at the end of these kinds of things. This week I don't think I've ever learned more.
I learned that sometimes silence is necessary to notice God, and if I don't put it on myself, He sure will.
I learned that if you go to an extremely impoverished country and decide you are going to have a "cookout," it is not a cookout by any stretch of the imagination. It is a madhouse (understatement), and that is exactly why Jesus told us in extreme detail how He went about feeding people. And that when you follow His example, it works.
I learned that people are great, but they will piss me off, even if they are Christian. But God never fails. And when people do, I need to suck it up and turn to Him.
I learned that while letting go of my eating disorder may be a "grieving process," it really need not be and it is dumb and much too slow-to-leave to waste my time grieving it when I could be enjoying my life hidden in Christ. And that the eating disorder is all loss anyway.
I learned that America will not be my home forever.
I learned that every day I wake up, I wake up to go on the mission field. No matter where I happen to be.
We are landing in Newark soon! I'll miss you DR, see you later!

101 Ways to Annoy Your Skating Coach

Only female pronouns are used in the interest of clarity, but I am very aware that there are many male figure skating coaches.

Disclaimer: You might get in serious trouble if you actually do some of these. This is mainly meant for entertainment.

1. When she tells you to "take the ice," answer, "take it where?"
2. Follow her around the ice everywhere, even when she's in a lesson with somebody else.
3. Whenever she tells you something you're doing wrong, for example "your hips are closed" or "your knees aren't bent," say, "well I'd like to see you do that with your hips opened/knees bent."
4. Run into the boards every chance you get.
5. Come to the rink for your lesson, then tell her your dog ate your skates.
6. Tell her you did not skate this week because you were watching TV.
7. Fly a paper airplane on the ice. If it hits her head, tell her you earned ten minutes less on your lesson that day.
8. While she is explaining what you are doing wrong on something, skate around in aimless circles, without ever looking at her.
9. When she tells you to stop, tell her you skate to burn calories, and standing there listening to her talk does not burn calories.
10. Never bring gloves on the ice, and then complain about having cold hands so you have to borrow hers.
11. Return your gloves to her with all the fingertips torn off.
12. While she is talking to you, lean back on the veeeeery back of your blades. When you fall backwards, exclaim with a look of horror on your face, "How did THAT happen?!"
13. Covertly chew gum on the ice.
14. Bring messy, greasy food (such as wings or big sandwiches) on the ice. Always.
15. Put wads of chewed gum on the ends of your blades, then wonder why you can't do anything.
16. When she asks you a question, raise your hand, waving it around shouting, "pick me, pick me!" When she calls on you (annoyed that you are wasting time), ask if you can use the bathroom.
17. On the rare occasion that she lets you go to the bathroom, take a tour around the rink.
18. In the middle of a lesson, randomly begin telling her a long and heartfelt personal story. Extra points if you start crying.
19. When she tells you to pay attention, reply "how much should I pay?"
20. Get on the ice super early, and when she gets on for your lesson right on time, say "finally!"
21. Whistle while you skate your moves patterns.
22. When she tells you to do one thing (such as "keep your feet close together") do the direct opposite.
23. Bring a lizard, mouse, or rat in your pocket on the ice. In the middle of the lesson, let it loose inconspicuously.
24. Sigh, "this is boring" loudly.
25. Laugh out loud for no reason.
26. Never let her finish a sentence without an interruption.
27. After everything she tells you you are doing wrong say "That's what you think."
28. "Forget" to pay her for a month. Or more.
29. After every time she explains something say "well, duh."
30. Make up humorous excuses for being late to your lesson.
31. Yell "yesssssss" after any time you finish something. Anything. Even if you've been doing it forever. Even if you fall on your butt.
32. While she is talking, roll your eyes. Then yawn and stretch. After that, gaze at all the really good skaters. Keep looking at the clock every five minutes. Sigh. Very loudly.
33. Where sunglasses on the ice.
34. Gather your stuff ten minutes before your lesson ends. Skate around with it.
35. As soon as your lesson time is over, run (yes, run) off the ice before she even says goodbye.
36. Moo whenever she says your name.
37. Randomly tell her one day that you cannot go on the ice anymore because it is against your religion. But you can do anything off ice.
38. When you are staying in a hotel for a competition, bang on her hotel room door at four in the morning (even if you are competing in the evening) and scream GOOD MORNING SUNSHINE!!!
39. In the middle of a lesson, pluck her hair out and yell "DNA! ooh.. grey DNA..."
40. In the middle of a lesson, on a particularly crowded day, yell "NO, -insert coach's name here-, I will NOT make out with you!!"
41. Whenever you do a jump, do it retardedly high and wide and tell her you are trying to fly.
42. Hold her hand and whisper to her, "I see dead people..." then look suspiciously around at all the other people on the ice.
43. Pretend to have amnesia: whatever she tells you to do, ask her, "What's that?" and claim you forgot.
44. Try to swim in the ice. When she tells you it's impossible to swim in the ice, say "Why not, it's just frozen water?"
45. Say everything backwards. (Can you imagine? ztul, kcabyal, rewop sllup)
46. Twitch. A lot.
47. Skate in circles around her, and refuse to do anything else.
48. Wear a leo and tights, with a skating skirt on your head. Tell her you are making a fashion statement.
49. Try to drink out of your water bottle upside down.
50. Lay face down on the ice for at least one minute, and when you get up exclaim, "Dang, I'm cold!!"
51. Try and climb up the boards. With your skates on.
52. When she tells you to do something, tell her "in a minute" then just stare at her.
53. Skate around with your eyes closed and repeatedly bump into her. (best if you don't bump into other people, as this could cause issues)
54. Pretend you are an alien from a different planet. When she asks you to do something (jump, spin, etc) ask her what that is in your alien language (you can come up with a name for the language if you want). When she tells you she doesn't know or refuses to answer, refuses to do the maneuver because you have no idea what she's talking about.
55. Talk in an annoying accent.
56. While she is explaining something to you cover your ears and shout "the voices!"
57. Or look amazed and look around and ask, "are you my conscience?"
58. When she asks you to do something say "Would you like fries with that?"
59. Only speak to her in song lyrics.
60. Do really dangerous things on the ice, like cartwheels and push-ups. (only if you feel comfortable)
61. Tell her you are going to sue when you fall on whatever she's telling you to do.
62. Whenever you ask her a question also follow it up with "huh, huh, huh?"
63. Whenever you have a really minor fall act like you're dying and can't get up (extra points for crying). Just as she's starting to freak out, jump up and say, "all better!"
64. When she tells you she wants to see a good -insert skating maneuver here-, say "Actual results may vary."
65. Whenever she steps on the ice ask, "What did you bring me?"
66. When she says something like, "If you pull your arms in tighter you'll spin faster," demand that she prove it. Demonstrating does not count.
67. Demand that she hold every dirty tissue for you, claiming you can't find a garbage can.
68. Tell her you have pink eye or some other highly contagious disease.
69. Speak only in a robot voice.
70. Wear a bicycle helmet on the ice, and refuse to take it off because it's for your astronaut training.
71. When she skates backwards, make beeping noises.
72. Finish all your sentences with "in accordance with the prophesy."
73. Whenever she is demonstrating something, give a loud play-by-play like a sports announcer.
74. When she is counting something (for example how many lobes you get on a moves pattern or how many revolutions on a spin) shout out random numbers.
75. Pay for your lesson in pennies.
76. Tie jingle bells to all your clothes.
77. Skip instead of stroke across the ice.
78. When she asks you what time it is, always tell her it is the time that your lesson is to end.
79. (Attempt to) never break eye contact, even when jumping or spinning.
80. Tell her that YOU are the coach, and SHE is the student. Then proceed to give her a lesson.
81. Do things that are obviously wrong and then act like you think you did it perfectly.
82. Tell her to do a quad axel. With a straight face.
83. When she is explaining something to you, nod your head and look attentive. When she is finished, say "wait, what?"
84. Start speaking another language randomly, and act like you don't know what's going on.
85. Ask about her love life. Even if you know she's dating or married to someone.
86. "Forget" your dress (or skates or tights or something essential) when you go to a competition, then at the very last minute "find" it (them).
87. Pretend you don't understand what she's saying, no matter how slowly or loudly she says it.
88. While she is in a lesson with somebody else, approach her quietly from behind, grab her shoulders and yell "BOOGA BOOGA!!"
89. Come fifteen minutes late to your lesson, and act as if nothing happened.
90. Dress only in neon clothing.
91. Speak very loudly so the entire rink can hear you, and when she tells you to quiet down, speak so quietly so she can't hear what you're saying.
92. Set up traffic cones on the ice so no one bumps into each other.
93. Wear a cape and skate like superman.
94. As she reads/looks at the moves book, stand over her shoulder mumbling random words.
95. Do a "turn signal" with your arm whenever you do a three-turn (or rocker, counter, etc.).
96. Skate REALLY slow. When she comments on your slowness, tell her you're going as fast as you can.
97. Bob your head like a parakeet when you are spinning.
98. Sing along to everyone's program music.
99. Arrive to a competition extremely late without your hair, makeup, or anything done.
100. Come to your lesson wearing nothing but a bikini.
101. Correct her grammar obnoxiously, even if it need not be corrected.

Feel free to add any more!!

The events contained in this entry cannot be summed up in one single title. Read and be amazed.

"There's a story burning in me. I wanna tell it again and again. It's a story of redemption bound to change the hearts of men. I cannot find the words, and sometimes it sounds absurd, and I don't even know myself all the depths, the heights, the wealth. How can I tell this story again to make you wonder when you stopped believing? How can I paint a picture of this kind of love, this kind of healing?" ~Sara Groves

This is not a story about me, my sister in Christ, our Friday night, or anything that we could have done. This is a story about one broken teenage guy, one amazing God, and how the two are finally beginning to get to know one another. Unfortunately, in order to tell this story clearly, I must include some mentions of myself and my dear friend Lauren. But please ignore them to the best of your ability.

This past March, I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. The morning following my admission, I was quietly sitting in the unit lounge when a fellow patient by the name of Max exuberantly introduced himself to me. This kid was crazy, I thought -- he strolled around the stuffy hospital unit barefoot in pajamas all day, gave me awkward looks whenever he had the chance, and talked... a lot. I knew he was a lost soul, but figured he was a hopeless case. As he revealed every aspect of his life, one by one, I listened quietly as my heart broke. I said nothing out of fear of moving him even further away from the heart of the gospel. He was discharged the next day.

About a week later, I too was discharged and moved to partial hospitalization, where Max also was. I got to know him better this time, as I was in a much better place and up to listening to all his crazy rants. Long story short, he found out I was a Christian, and that led to numerous divine conversations. He started coming to youth group with me, and he loved  it. It was the first time he'd experienced love regardless of who he was, where he'd been, or what he believed.

This past Friday I was at Lauren's house for a sleepover. I sent Max a message asking how he was, since Lauren and I had seen him in town earlier that night. He nonchalantly informed me that he had been called a faggot by his own mother, kicked out of his house for being bisexual, and was now sleeping at a train station.

At that moment, something radical happened in my heart. An intense desire that simply couldn't be ignored, that demanded I abandon all common sense and love on this kid like Jesus would. A bisexual agnostic hippie who has been in several mental hospitals, smokes weed and curses like a sailor. Who is loved by God more than anyone could ever imagine.

Lauren knew and loved Max from youth group, and when I told her the situation, she said, "We need to find him."

So we did. But, I must admit, we sinned in order to do it. We lied to Lauren's mom, telling her we were just taking a walk around the neighborhood because we had to talk. But instead we walked to where Max was, praying that God would bless the time along the way, and took him back to the house. Hid him like a Christian hiding a Jew, waited till the other Peiffer's were in bed, and sat on the front porch. We both figured we'd let him stay for a little bit, then tell him he had to split. Sorry, but we can't just let you stay here for the night without her mom even knowing about it. The Lord had other plans.

We talked. We talked about God's sovereignty, speaking in tongues, sex, and pain. The big bang theory, I believe, and salvation, along with some other things. He told us he found it "absolutely terrifying" to believe that God is in control of our own destinies, that he did not feel loved. I felt Jesus' burden for the world, not for the first time, but somehow that seems to always grip me. We poured love out to him until it hurt. In what seemed like five minutes, the clock struck four o'clock in the morning.

We saw the sun begin to rise, and it was beautiful. Lauren had the spontaneous idea to drive to Peace Valley Park and watch God paint His masterpiece of a new day. So she told her mom our plans, not including the tiny detail that we had Max along for the ride. We frantically grabbed blankets, a candle and lighter, camera and laptop, a pillow and a Bible. We gazed at the indescribable beauty, and it was that moment that Max believed.

No, he didn't get saved. Sorry. But something I've learned is that it is nearly impossible to be radically and spontaneously given food, love, and shelter by two Christian teenage friends, then immediately after watch the sun rise and still not believe in God. He told us he saw how the Lord put the night together perfectly. We saw it too. We told him how awesome of a Christian he is going to be one day. We can just see it sprouting out of him. He is being transformed into a new creation, and we are jumping up and down in excitement with God, waiting in suspense to see what He is going to do next.

We did nothing that night. God had really great things to do and He took us along for the ride. It was really fun, I might add.

Lauren's mom called, wondering where we were and what was going on. What we told her was going to be a quick trip to the park turned out to be two hours. We rushed out, dropped Max off at the train station, told him we were really sorry and that he better get on the next train to somewhere he can lay his head, and walked back into Lauren's bedroom as if nothing ever happened.

Finally we had a second to breathe and realize what God just did. We sat for a long time simply marveling at how amazing our God is. We were on a high, similar to that you get when you've just gone on a mission trip and seen miracles occur one by one, several times a day. And then the guilt set in.

We just obeyed God's call to radical abandonment, to love our neighbor as ourselves, and He blessed our socks off because of it. But... we sinned  in order to do that.

Ouch.

We felt a need to come clean to Lauren's mom, although neither of us wanted to do it. We prayed together as sisters in Christ, that Mrs. P would grant us mercy and that she'd see the magnitude of what occurred and be astonished. We prayed that the Lord would calm our fears and give us the words to speak as we revealed the truth of what was really going on that whole time.

Then we walked into Lauren's mom's bedroom, and Lauren stated, "Mom, we have a confession to make: We lied to you." We told her all the events of the past twelve or so hours, explaining to her why we lied (although there is never an excuse to that) and sharing with her how God moved mountains. She had not one ounce of anger and even admitted that if we had told her what was going on from the start, she would never have allowed us to continue. She told us she was proud of us and was truly taken back by the sovereignty and loving kindness of our Creator.

The sad thing about all this is that I cannot display to you all that happened in words. I cannot tell you that Max got saved the other night, or that his parents suddenly and miraculously stopped abusing him. I can tell you that seeds were planted and that God wowed us, but that would be an understatement and wouldn't give the Lord all the credit He deserves. We will all remember this night forever, and we know that someday Max will be sharing his testimony of how he met Jesus, and he will say, "One night my mom kicked me out of my house for being bi. These two church girls opened their home to me and just loved on me. I saw something different in them, and now I know it was the Spirit. That night changed my life forever."

Please know that I am not boasting on what we did. I am boasting on what God did, but these words alone will not tell you that in full. We are so in awe of Jesus Christ.