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!

"The DR Stole My Heart" Guest Post

This was written by my fellow DR missionary and friend, Katie. I think she perfectly describes the trip last year and the excitement we all have for this one. Enjoy reading and please keep us in your prayers!

The title I think speaks for itself. On July 10th about 39 people (teens and leaders) and I will be heading to an airport with the destination of Barahona, Dominican Republic. We are all very excited to say the least, but there's still twelve days left... twelve days to practice drama, music and puppets. Pack, and get everything ready to go. We will be staying in a place called “The Palace.” It's very nice but also near the people, which is nice. We will be building a wall at the ministry house where the “In Calvary’s Care” hosts are. We will be working on other homes and doing tons of ministry. I’m so excited to see the kids and everyone from last year. Honestly, I’ve been looking forward to this since the day I left last year. I’ve taken four years of Spanish so I’m very hopeful that it will all pay off during the week we're there. Please keep us in your thoughts and prayers as we come into the last stretch of getting ready for the trip. Thanks so much for all the support we’ve recieved so far. We are beyond thankful for the prayers, good thoughts and donations toward our trip!! I personally must give a BIG THANK YOU to the WTHS teachers and staff that donated to my trip, as well as to my sisters' through buying candy bars and pizza kit sales. We look forward to telling everyone about the trip when we return home!!

PAST, PRESENT & FUTURE HAPPENINGS IN THE DR

As many of you know I went to the DR last year for ten days. I expected many things. Hardship, to be shocked culturally, to be completely hurt from seeing the hurt there, and I expected it to be a memorable trip. It was all of that and more. I was blown away from the kindness and joy we were shown by the ministry group “In Calvary’s Care;” the translators were awesome and the people were open to what we had to say. As sad as it is to say, here in America we're not exactly open to what others have to say as much as we used to be…but that’s just my opinion and that's not of everyone. Yet there we were invited to come into their homes to share God’s love and Word with them. It shocked me because if someone asked to sit with me in my home that was a complete stranger about something and their faith, I would probably be freaked out and ask them to leave, but they were totally accepting which was cool.

We worked hard; we built a wall out of hand, stirred cement and rocks we went hunting to find for someones home so that it would stay stable. We helped build an orphanage, worked on another home/bathroom & a lot more. To say the least we got down and dirty with the best of them. They helped us build their homes, and they did it with a smile. I’m sorry but I’ve never asked the electrician, plumber or any of them if they wanted my help to repair my home, although that's probably a good thing and I should never mess with that either but that;s not the point. The point is they were willing... Willing to work for a better tomorrow.

I honestly could ramble on forever about how wonderful the experience was, how my perspective on things has been changed forever. The beaches were beautiful. The hurt was heart-wrenching, and much of it... much because of the earthquakes and such from last year. It’s this simple... I saw a place where people need love and help... and I want to help them get it. I don’t know whether I’m going to continue these missions every summer...I would love to but God only knows. I don't ever see myself living there but I do see myself doing the best I can to continue summer missions over there.

The fact is, we need help here in the US almost if not the same amount of help that the Dominicans do. We are better off but we have our own issues, so I think it's important to stick together in them. The DR helps me realize that.

this is me

Ambition: Become a fabulous nurse (at least RN BSN but I might also get my MSN CRNP) and earn some sort of biblical degree or certification; get married to a wonderful godly man; have a ton of kids (six I'm hoping); do children's ministry, youth ministry, women's ministry, worship ministry, or all or some of the above; write books; be a teacher of the Word.

Bad Habit: Rambling (although not as bad as my mom), getting myself on screwed up sleep patterns

City: Doylestown. Not your typical New York/Boston/Chicago type city. But a city nonetheless.

Drink: diet coke, coffee, and caffeinated tea.

Education: Next school year I'll be a junior at Plumstead Christian.

Food: This is still a difficult question for me to answer. One thing I like is authentic Mexican food, but there are a lot of Mexican things I don't like, and I like a lot of other things as well. I don't really have a "favorite."

Guilty Pleasure: In my battle with the Sonic drive-in, Sonic wins, every time.

Hometown: This is a really complicated question for me lol. I was born in New Tripoli, PA, but my parents got divorced when I was three. My mom moved to Allentown, PA, and my dad moved to center city Philadelphia. My mom still lives in Allentown, but I've moved with my dad to Huntingdon Valley, PA and Chalfont, PA. Twice. So, yeah.

Ice Cream: Cold Stone.

Jonesing for: the DR trip.

Kryptonite: I've literally sat here for like ten minutes thinking about it, and I don't know.

Look-a-like: People have told me they know girls who look like me but never anyone I know or a celebrity or anything.

Movie: Saving Sarah Cain is a good one. And there are a few others too. I'm not a huge movie junkie.

Nickname: Liz, Lizzy, Lizzle, Lizard, Mow, Maimai, Biwl (I'm not just making up an exhaustive list, at least one person in my life calls me by each one of these.)

Obsession: Jesus.

 Perfume: I don't care about the name, if it smells good I buy it and/or use it.

Quirk: I'm really strict on modesty. At least that's what people say. I'm addicted to diet coke, and I don't like pizza.

Regret: Regrets are dumb.

Starbucks: Right now, it's a tall iced skinny caramel latte. But it changes.

Thrift Find of the Year: An authentic Asian dress with cherries instead of cherry blossoms on it.

University: I don't know yet, I'm hoping Messiah College and then maybe Calvary Chapel Bible College afterwards.

Vacation: I don't go on vacation. lol.

Wine: I drink whatever wine my aunt offers me at Christmas, and that's about it.

X-rays: Teeth, CAT scan after a concussion (fun fact: I have a pineal cyst on my brain that was found at this CAT scan. absolutely harmless.), and my shoulder after I dislocated it. I've had other injuries too that didn't need x-rays. Figure skating is a dangerous sport.

Years: sixteen

Zen: sitting at my church's coffee shop next to a sister in Christ casually talking about Jesus, on my laptop, drinking a mug of hot coffee or tea.

Reflections on Everyday Life and All Its Glorious Implications

Last night I went to Doylestown to hang out at Main St. Baptist with some of my friends - like I do often. My friends' band was playing, and their parents, who are my youth pastor and his wife, were also there. Some other friends too. We were just chillin, when my youth pastor's wife, Jill, came up to me, gave me a hug, and stated, "You know, I'm so glad we've got the old Liz back."

Jill and me with our friend Alisha on the right three years ago on a mission trip

Now of course she was not talking about my old sinful nature. I've known this woman-after-God's-own-heart for almost four years, and I was about six months old in the Lord when I first met her. A whole lot has happened in those four years of my life, and she's seen the real Liz (bubbly, dancing, hiiiiiohmygoshihavetosharewhatthelordsdoinginmyhearthowcaniprayforyou?, singing and shoutin them praises high, "having a way with those kids" as she would say) as well as the dead one (only comes to youth group occasionally, noidon'thaveanyprayerrequests under her breath, shy and reluctant to do any sort of ministry, looks like she could shatter into a million pieces if you dare touch her). Unfortunately, for the past few months, I've been the latter. But now I am authentic and real, for the first time in like, seven months or something. And can I just say it feels really good.

I'll be blunt here: I binged and purged the other day. I hadn't used any symptoms at all in quite a while (I lost count of the days, but probably at least 15) and I felt like I must have been missing out on something -- after all, when I was so incredibly sick I refused to let go of my eating disorder for even a day because I loved it that much. So I bought in to Satan's lie, said hey, let's just do it for old times' sake, can't hurt anything. Well, false. But that God of mine works in mysterious ways, and He even uses our sin to teach us things (crazy, right?). A little graphic here: I only purged a small portion of it, because shortly after I began I thought, seriously? That's what I was living for? This is uncomfortable, and pointless. Excuse me but, um... I've got better things to do. It's funny how God just took away all memories of what it was really like, when just three months ago I was doing it 3+ times a day, it was my entire life. Maybe for a reason I need not tamper with too much.

Sometimes producing fruit in repentance proves difficult and wearisome. But it is so worth it.

Allie's and my victory hug after dominating at the Melting Pot

On a brighter note, last night I started sign interpreting songs again. A girl was doing it in worship and it brought me right back to when I used to do it. I missed it. So naturally I stayed up till 5 am refreshing my memory. And was consequently ten minutes late for my Sunday school class at church this morning. Awesome. Anyway, once I get this webcam I'm hoping somebody will sell me I might take some videos and put them up for your own personal encouragement and/or devotion.

Good ol' Pastor John gave us the Word this morning, and his message was convicting at best, horrifying at worst. In other words, awesomely thought-provoking. It was on Luke 14:25-34, and well, let's say I'll let you read that one for yourself (with the disclaimer that I realize this passage provokes a lot of heresy, but I can assure you that was not of this sermon -- I'll put it up once they upload it on the website). But let's reflect for just a moment on verse 27 -- "And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple." Alright Liz, we've all heard that one, what's the point? Well let me provide you with some framework.

Crucifixion was created as the most painful way ever one was thought to die. After the convicted's body was whipped to the guts (yeah, organs spilling out), he was then to carry his large cross on his back to wherever it was he was to die, which more often than not was up a steep and rocky mountain. He was laid systematically on the cross, nailed to it in each of his wrists and his ankles on top of one another. They propped the cross up in the ground, and waited for him to die -- by suffocation. Here's how it worked: with the position he was in, he could not breathe without first pushing himself forward to gasp for air, but that would cause immense pain to every inch of his body, with his wrists and ankles being nailed to a tree and his body being freshly whipped to shreds. He would then exhale, which would cause him to slump down again so he would need to push up for every breath. Most have the impression that this lasted only a few hours, but depending on how long the convicted drew out this process, it could take anywhere up to a week. He had no nutrients but vinegar and his own blood and sweat, and I doubt it was an easy task to sleep. An ever-increasing puddle of sweat, blood, urine and feces lay beneath his feet -- imagine the smell of all those combined. Oh yeah, and he was naked before a crowd mocking him, throwing rocks at him, screaming words of absolute scorn and ridicule. Until he died.

No wonder everyone thought Christ was a radical lunatic... I can't say I wouldn't.

Jesus did that for us, and all He's asking us to do for Him is to carry the cross, a small portion of that entire dreadful ordeal. We best be thinking we should perhaps give back, just a little.

Following Jesus is definitely not for the faint of heart, to say the least. But it is so worth it.

One Sunday a month my good friend and I head into a Doylestown nursing and rehabilitation home to lead worship for a Bible study a dude from our church leads. It is the residents' only church, so we try to make the best of it, and we take solace in the fact that most of them are hard of hearing, since the piano is reeeaaally out of tune and Brynna is not much of a practicer (understatement -- she literally refuses to come up with a line-up anytime before we get to the nursing home -- nope, not even on the way over -- and even if she randomly chooses a song we happen to have never done together, she'll do one verse and then say "alright, we got it"). We do mostly hymn-type stuff, since they're old and sick and I don't think they want our kind of worship. Amazing Grace, always.

This is the kind of nursing home that doesn't just have old people, but also has people who for whatever reasons are severely disabled and can't live on their own. There is a woman living there called Audrey whom we've all taken a particular liking to (not in the sense that we play favorites -- she's just taken the time to get to know us and is very friendly). She's not terribly old, but it's obvious she's got some medical problems, is in a wheelchair and has extremely slurred speech -- most people cannot understand her, if ever on the rare occasion. But she's super sweet, and she loves the Lord. A lot.

This was taken on the day Brynna and I were baptized.

Today we were told she wasn't coming to church because she wasn't feeling well, and that we weren't allowed to visit her. I'm not gonna lie, that scares me a little. I think it affected my partners in ministry as well.

Sometimes it hurts inside to do ministry to our God. But it is so worth it.

My VBS group last year

VBS is this week -- possibly one of the craziest times of the year both in my life and for my church. Our VBS is not quite like any other -- it pretty much shuts down the church and all the volunteers' lives (a good 80% of the congregation, which totals to over 1,000), in a good way. It is the one week we all come together in the glorification of God for one purpose: to reach His sweet little children in mighty ways. And we always do -- through Him, of course. As much I freakin' adore VBS and even more so children (I've been told my love for them shows in my eyes whenever I talk with a precious one), it's super stressful, and I won't get much sleep this week. More and more each year, it is inevitably absolute chaos due to the large number of people and much smaller number of square feet of space -- both inside and outside, in multiple buildings (that makes it sound like the place is huge -- it's really not; it's in a strip mall, and we have four sections of it). There's also just so much to do and so little time and by nature, I always have false anxiety about not reaching the kids. I just need to surrender it to God -- it's not anything I do. It's all Him. That's how so many kids get saved at these things.

Sometimes giving Jesus the honor due Him has me going insane, in tears because He finally gave me some tough love, and way too stressed for my own good. But it is so worth it.

Can you tell I'm a bit weary?

In exactly two weeks, I will be sleeping in my DR bed. Part of me is extensively excited and jittery for this endeavor to get started, and a smaller yet significant part is kind of dreading it. Last year when I went, I had no idea what to expect, and was, well, a little taken back, mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually. On one hand, I want to remember going into this that it is going to be difficult and I am going to be stretched, but on the other hand, I don't want to expect it to be the exact same thing as last year, because it's simply not the same trip and God is not going to do the exact same things. Mission trips are very flexible times where everyone is stretched, including those we are serving. So I feel a little hesitant to run into Barahona with open arms shouting YAY GOD! because 1) That would make us look even more like americanos locos, and 2) I would trip and fall, flat on my face, straight into the dirty, rotting, rocky mountains.

Sometimes, I'll be honest, I really don't want to serve God. But I know it is so very worth it.

"Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you." ~Matthew 5:12

"However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the gospel of God’s grace." ~Acts 20:24