What Being Blessed Really Means

One early morning before I left for Kenya, I was sitting on my couch in the living room, drinking my cinnamon vanilla coffee, and reading my bible.  It was my quiet time I have every morning.  A time I have now come to crave and love.  My chance to start the day with wisdom and insight from God, prayer for others and myself, and a positive beginning to a day that we know can sometimes unravel in a heartbeat.

As I sat there, my eyes began to wander.  They slowly moved around the room and unknowingly I began to inspect all of the imperfections that laid before me.  Thoughts...embarrassing thoughts....began to flood my mind. 

Look at how dingy and disgusting that carpet is...we need to get that replaced.  

Ugh, I hate those light hardwood floors...they clearly don't match the dark wood finishes in the rest of the house, we need to have them refinished. 

I hate that paint in the entry way...you can never tell if it is beige or yellow and when it looks yellow it looks awful. 

And don't even get me started on the original brass, caged "chandelier" in the entry way...home builders should be shot for putting cheap, brass fixtures in a home...We have successfully replaced every single one of those disgusting light fixtures, except this one, on display for all to see as they walk into our home...

Sadly, I am pretty sure I sat there for a good 15 minutes, sidetracked from my bible study (you know, the one part of my day that I was supposed to be content), to wallow in self-pity and uncover all of the discontentment that welled up from deep inside.  I casually refocused on the task at hand, finished up with a prayer, and went on my merry way, not even thinking twice about what had just taken place...But God did.  And I'm pretty sure he was up there chuckling to himself for what was about to unfold.

About a week later, in the African country of Kenya, in a remote village near Massai Corner, I stood and stared at a one bedroom, mud packed home, with a grass roof, and a dirt floor...I looked at the family who lived there, the same family who proudly invited me to sit in their home and smiled as they shared with us what they had been going through.  My world was rocked, my life was forever changed, and my perspective didn't leave unscathed. 

I was now looking at my home through the lens of a third world country and I was ashamed at how I had felt just a few days prior.  My home.  My beautiful home...was perfect.  The carpet suddenly looked more white and clean when I returned home.  The wooden floors...well they weren't dirt.  And the ugly brass chandelier...I just saw light.  Light that shined in darkness. 

Contentment means a state of happiness and satisfaction.  A few synonyms for contentment are gratification, fulfillment, cheerfulness, and  even peace.  I didn't have any of those feelings...at least not until I looked around the mud hut and saw all of it's beautiful imperfections and the pride this family still had for it all. 

The thing that struck me the most wasn't the dirt floor, or the mud walls, or the fact that they didn't have indoor plumbing or electricity, it was that as I looked inside their home, I saw nothing.  It was empty.  No chandelier hanging from their entry way.  No couches to sit on.  No decorations on the walls.  Not even a bed to sleep on or a dresser to put their clothes in.  Nothing.

 

They walk miles to have access to water and we use cleaner water to keep our grass green!  They have one cup and one pan to share between their family of five and I have spare dishes collecting dust in the bottom of my cabinets.  If they are fortunate, they have a few items of clothing and I have a closet full of clothes that I haven't worn in years, with the tags still on them, and I continue to buy more...after all, I really needed another pair of jeans, as I stack them on top of the ten I already have.

I felt ashamed.  I felt unworthy.  I felt disgusted.  I had slowly let discontentment creep into my soul.  Back home, I had allowed what the people around me had to dictate what I felt I deserved.  I tried so desperately to keep up with the Jones', instead of desperately trying to make a difference. 

I love God and who he is.  He is a God of mercy and grace.  He didn't allow me to wallow in self- deprivation that day.  Instead he challenged me.  Now that your eyes are open to the blessings that you have...what are you going to do about it? 

I know that I am freaking some of you out.  You're waiting for it aren't you?....

Did he want me to come home, sell EVERYTHING I own, and go back to Kenya to live in a mud hut? 

No.  He doesn't.  But he wants me to have the heart that I could. 

He wants to know that I am...All-In.  That if I had to make the sacrifices, I would.  That my eyes and heart are opened to realize that it is all just stuff.  Stuff that I won't take with me when I leave this world. 

It reminds me of one of the most profound and disputed stories in the bible, the story of Abraham and Isaac.  Abraham and Sarah waited so long to have a son.  It seemed impossible to have a child at their age.  But God promised them he would bless them.  He promised them he would give them a son.  And that son would be the beginning of nations, generations.  (You know the song in Sunday School is flooding back your memory..."Father Abraham, had many sons, many sons had Father Abraham, I am one of them, And so are you, So let's just praise the LORD.")

After many years of anguish and waiting, God delivered and fulfilled his promise of a son, his name was Isaac.  When Isaac was a boy, God asked Abraham to do something that is and was so incomprehensible.  He asked him to sacrifice his son...That story really messes with people sometimes...why in the world would God ask such a horrific thing?  Because it would depict faith at its most raw and most obedient of times. Aside from Jesus, it is the greatest faith and trust ever displayed (in my opinion).

God never actually wanted Abraham to follow through with it...he just wanted to see if he could...if he would.  A test.  A test to see...If he really did trust God like he said he did...If he really did have the faith he claimed to...If he really did love God more than anything or anyone else.  In that moment, God had Abraham exactly where he wanted him.  Nothing and No One was greater than his love for God.  That can make us uncomfortable.  It will.  It should. 

God doesn't want me to give it all up...he simply just wants to know that I could and that I would.  He just wants to know that there is nothing that is greater than my love for him. 

Am I there yet?  NOPE.  I so desperately wish I was.  I'd like to think that I am.  But I know myself and God knows my heart.  I might not be, but with every step of obedience, I feel one step closer to being there.  The place I long for.  The place of contentment, pure satisfaction, and full  gratification. 

Once I get there...If I ever get there...will I stay there...NOPE.  It will be a constant battle.  I love what Paul says in Galatians 5:17:  "The sinful nature wants to do evil, which is just the opposite of what the Spirit wants. And the Spirit gives us desires that are the opposite of what the sinful nature desires. These two forces are constantly fighting each other, so you are not free to carry out your good intentions."  That sucks.  It pretty much claims that even with good intentions we fail. 

But I love what he says later because it shows God's mercy and grace to see our best intentions, even though they may fail..."Those who belong to Christ Jesus have nailed the passions and desires of their sinful nature to his cross and crucified them there.  Since we are living by the Spirit, let us follow the Spirit’s leading in every part of our lives."

I love that it says, follow.  It signifies we can't do it alone.  It illustrates we don't have the lead.  It reminds me that it is impossible on my own.  The only way I will ever be fully content is to rely on God.  The only way that I will ever have a heart full of gratitude is when my heart is full of love. 

That's what God wanted to reveal to me in Kenya....

He wanted me to learn one incredible lesson that I heard over and over on the trip, thanks to my new friends, "I am blessed...to be a blessing." 

It's a hard pill to swallow.  I feel wrong for being "blessed" in the way that I have.  It's not fair. 

But if I look at it through the lens of a third world country, they do feel blessed.  They feel blessed to have a well built next to their village.  They feel blessed to be healed from a sickness through clinics and medicine.  They feel blessed that their child is getting a good education.  They feel blessed to have good crops that will feed their family.  They feel blessed to be able to attend church, worship God and to have their own Bible. 

They do feel blessed, maybe not in the way that I thought you were blessed, but they do and they are. 

Blessed actually means to be consecrated and holy and wait for it...content!

It has nothing to do with what we have been given...in the material sense. 

I've learned a few things about what being blessed REALLY means...

• Being blessed is not based on the things that we have, it is based upon the contentment of our hearts. 

• Being blessed is not based on the wealth we have accumulated, but in the relationships we share with Christ and our love for others.

• Being blessed is not based on all the good that has taken place in our lives, but simply on the lessons we've learned through both triumph and tragedy. 

• Being blessed is not based on being self-sufficient, but being completely and totally reliant upon God. 

I've never felt more blessed, more content, more appreciative, more gratification,  in all of my life. 

Will it fade?...Sadly...but truthfully...yes...it will. 

How do I protect it? 

Through prayer, through giving and serving, through going on more mission trips, through accountability with my husband and other Christians, and through reminders...Reminders like this blog post. 

I don't feel guilty for what I have, but I do feel incredibly grateful, honored, and humbled...

 

And I think that's exactly what God wanted me to feel. 

I Now BELIEVE...For God So Loved the WORLD...

I'm a little overwhelmed and quite frankly, I have no idea even where to begin.  I have really struggled with how to write about my experiences in Africa. 

How do I even begin to describe the incredible experiences we had in a way that my friends, my family, my audience will be able to picture or relate to?  How do I begin to describe my ever-changing thoughts and overwhelming emotions?  How will people understand this new change in me?  How can they see, hear, and feel Africa without having gone on this trip?

 

I finally came to the conclusion...you're not. You're not going to fully grasp every emotion, every thought, every experience I had...and that's ok.  I heard someone from church on Sunday say that describing all that we had experienced in Africa is a lot like eating an elephant in one bite...
You just can't.

 

I can't tell you all that has happened to me in just one blog post. I can't tell you all that I saw, all that I heard, all that I smelled, and all that I felt...in just one blog post.  I can't.  So, I'm not going to. 

I kept a journal while we were there.  I originally had thought that I would just blog and share every day with you, but I think that would be a disservice to my experience.  Hearing every detail of the day, play-by-play, may lose the impact that some moments had over others, and believe me, some moments deserve to not be overlooked and undervalued. 

So, I have finally decided that I am going to take the stories as they come...as they come back to my memory...as they flood back my emotions...as they bring me back to reality...and as I begin to deal with them and finally process them.

Yesterday (Sunday) I was asked to speak at church, to share with the congregation something that impacted my life while in Africa.  Again, I wasn't able to tell the people in five minutes of the profound impact this trip has had on my life and in all the ways that God used this trip to change me. So, I tried to tackle one big realization that I had made...That God loves the WORLD and that I want to love God like the African children do. 

Here is what I shared at church on Sunday...

 

John 3:16...

I can almost guarantee that when those three words were spoken, you began to unconsciously recite this simple, yet profound verse from memory.  Like me, some of you learned this verse at a very young age.  It was probably the first bible verse you ever memorized. 

 

Sadly, I never knew how intense this verse was...until our trip to Kenya.  I knew the words and I had heard them so many times…I just couldn’t grasp the concept.  “For God so loved the WORLD…” 

 

I believed for God so loved Kristen because I could see it, I believed for God so loved my family because I could see it, I even believed for God so loved America because I could see it…but for the first time in my life my eyes were open to see and experience that God loves the WORLD.  I could finally grasp what this verse meant…thanks to one incredible and unforgettable experience. 

On Tuesday, we were at Mbewau School with missionaries Chris & Lisa Moore, having a chapel service with the children.  They began to sing songs of praise and worship…songs we all know and love...

“Open the eyes of my heart Lord, I want to see you.” 

“I could sing of your love forever.” 

“Pour out your power and love as we sing holy, holy, holy.”

As I sat there with tears in my eyes, I was awestruck...How could these children sing of God’s love forever when they sleep on a dirt floor?  How could these children sing to God that they want to see him, when all they see is poverty?  How could they ask God to pour out his power and love when they are dying of diseases like Malaria and Aids?  How could they tell God he is enough, when they have absolutely nothing? 

It’s simple.  They don’t see the things I see.  Their hearts are pure.  Their joy is overflowing.  Their lives are content. Not because of the things they have or don’t have, but simply because of their love for Christ.  God is enough for them.

In that moment, I desperately wanted to love God like they did.  I want to love God without conditions.  I want to love God without circumstance dictations.  I want to love God based on the things I have or don't have.  I want to love God without caring what other people think of me.  I simply want to love God with my whole heart...for my whole life. 

Children, beautiful brown-eyed children taught me that in just one church service.  And here I was supposed to be there teaching them about the love of Christ!  I was supposed to be teaching them to love God with their whole heart and instead they taught me.

For God so loved the WORLD…I finally believed it.  I finally felt it for the first time.  God doesn’t see race, God doesn’t see religion, God doesn’t see culture, God doesn’t see failures, and God doesn’t see people that are unreachable…God sees the hearts of children…in all of us. 

There’s a reason Jesus says in Matthew 18: 3, “that unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven and that whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” 

We need to have faith like children, children who will give their life to him whole heartedly without expectations, without conditions, and without reluctancy. 

I need to wake up.  We need to wake up.  Our church needs to wake up.  God loves the WORLD and it is our job to not just tell them that he does, but to serve them, and to show them that he does. 

Jesus gave the great commission in Matthew 28: 19: Go..."Go therefore and make disciples of ALL nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.  And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” 

Go.  Don’t just send money.  Don’t just watch it on tv.  Don’t just take my word for it…GO!  You don't have to go to Africa. You can go to the homeless shelter downtown.  You can go to the nursing home down the street.  You can go to your family dinners on the holidays.  You can go to work every single day.  Just go somewhere and show the love of Christ.  Actions speak louder than words.  We all have a mission field, we simply just have to be willing to go. 

Christians are being persecuted all over the world and if we don’t go ourselves or help support the missionaries who do go…someone else will.  Someone else will tell them that God only loves them when they do good things.  Someone else will tell them that not everybody is worthy of entering the kingdom of heaven.  Someone else will tell them that Jesus Christ is not the Son of God and did not die on a cross for our sins. Someone else will tell them things they may believe...and it will change the course of their eternity.  We have to take action.  We have to pray for them, support missionaries who devote their lives to witnessing to them, and do our part...whatever that may be.

They sang one last song at the end of the worship service.  This one almost brought me to my knees.  The lyrics pierced my soul.  I listened as the children sang...

“Lord I love you.  You're my present, my past, my future.  You’re the keeper of my heart.  The healer of my soul.  The one who sees me through.  I give my life to you.  Lord I love you.” 

I gave my life to God when I was saved at the age 13.  I gave my life again to God when I resurrendered my life at the age of 24.  And once again I had to let go of my life in Kenya. 

Before Kenya...I loved God, I thought I trusted him, but I was still trying to call the shots.  I was helping God fulfill my life’s purpose.  But that was always so exhausting and I finally realized that I was tired!  Tired of worrying, tired of being impatient, tired of overthinking it, tired of being in control because at the end of the day I knew I never was.  So...I gave up!  I relinquished control, I stepped out in faith, and I vowed to be patient and to stop making things happen by myself and for myself. 

From the time I wake up in the morning and my feet hit the floor, I want my daily prayer to be… “Not my will, but yours be done today.”

I have given God back the pen.  The pen he will use to write my story. 

I want God to tell me who I am.  I want God to tell me where to go.  I want God to use me to do great things...things that I could NEVER do on my own...things that advance the kingdom of heaven. 

And I finally don't care what others think.   Who am I living for?  The approval of the world or the approval of my heavenly father?  Christians in Africa would rather die than deny their identity in Christ and I am too scared sometimes to share my faith.  I am so afraid that people may think differently of me.  That people won't want to be my friend anymore.  But when I went to Africa, I finally had to let that go.  If I love God, like I claim to... it shouldn't matter.  If I love others, like Christ did... it shouldn't matter.  If I serve others and count them of more value than myself... it shouldn't matter.  And that is what I so desperately want!

So when I hear the children of Africa singing this beautiful song...

"Lord I give my life to you, Lord I love you." 

I too will sing with them and will be reminded of one simple, yet profound lesson those children taught me one Tuesday afternoon.  I hope this will one day be your prayer as well...