Life to the Fullest

“I have come that they might have life, and have it in abundance.” –John 10:10

John 10:10 has long been a guiding theme verse for my life. Ever since my Upward basketball coach (a.k.a. Dad) annually emphasized the point that God wanted us to have fun in life, I’ve joyfully expected and often tasted this abundant life. I frequently mention the verse in my Bible classes and counseling session here at ACA, saying that God wants us to experience all fullness of life. Such a full, joyous, exciting, abundant life holds great appeal for me.  There may, however, be just one little problem. Perhaps I accidently associate this great gift of abundance with fullness of schedule. The issue arises when my fullness of schedule actually inhibits me from living the spirit-filled life that Jesus just might actually have been referring to—that is, a life that manifests love, joy, peace, patience, etc. That third one is the kicker. Too often my aspirations towards a full routine of good works reap stressful situations that inhibit my enjoyment and display of Christ’s love, joy, and peace. Such is my recent—though not new—struggle (some things don’t change no matter where you are). And such is the reason for my sparse communication. Despite my sometimes-convoluted understanding of God’s plan for my life, his grace is such that He continues to show me his glory.

The felt weight of teaching responsibilities, burdensome counseling endeavors, strenuous online course work, and attempted preparations for graduate school may have contributed to my recent encounter with malaria. It was a doozie—probably the worst, most prolonged case that I’ve had yet. Being in bed for over a week, and without strength for two more after that, really set me back in terms of my outside-of-ACA responsibilities. The resulting fatigue and accumulated work load certainly awakens me to my desperation for supernatural strength and grace. And indeed, my Father is showing himself faithful. Each morning that I wake up with a healthy body, each evening that I feel a renewed vigor to press-on gives me reason to thank and praise God.

Meanwhile, God continues his work on a Kingdom masterpiece around me (though his inclusion of my dirty rags is a befuddlement). As a staff at the American Christian Academy, we continue to pray for and expect a revival within our community of students, teachers, and parents. There are signs that such a revival may be beginning.

Last Monday, my principal called the staff to fast and pray for the mission of our school to be accomplished (that is, that hearts turn to Christ for salvation). The following day’s classes for me proceeded normally, until last period. In the middle of my 8^th grade spelling class, I was writing on the white-board when I sensed someone at my side in the front of the class. I turned to see one of my quietest Hindu students, who then mumbled something incomprehensible. I asked his to repeat is because I thought I heard the word “religion” within his mumblings. “Never mind,” he replied, and returned to his seat. I kept pressing him to tell me what he had said, and finally he said, “I’ve decided to change religions.”  And I thought, “In spelling class?” I quickly arranged to meet with him after class, during which time he explained that he didn’t know why, but he didn’t believe in Hindu gods anymore. When I asked what he did believe in, he said, “Jesus Christ.” Well, that was good enough for me. I asked when he had decided he wanted to become a Christian. “Yesterday” was the reply. Why? “I don’t really know.” But I do. Yesterday we had asked, and now God was giving us the nations. As he knew neither what it meant to be a Christian, nor how to begin the journey—but wanted to—I led the student in prayerfully opening the door of his heart at which Jesus had been knocking. It was beautiful. Such an experience, to me, is the epitome of enjoying abundant life. Since that day, I’ve learned that another student has surrendered his life to Christ. The two boys began today meeting with one of our pastor-teachers for discipleship. It’s thrilling.

I should note another series of experiences that I’ve had since last writing. About a month ago, several of us in the compound decided to go to a home for motherless babies in hopes of providing what we perceived these babies needed most – to be held and loved. The orphanage that entered was supposedly one of the nicest ones around, somehow associated with the University Hospital. At the home, we found about 30 babies through the age of two who were being “provided for” in a somewhat primitive, but thankfully clean open room. We’ve been devastated to find that the matron at the orphanage disallows people to hold the babies because she wants them to be independent (WHAT?!?). She says her work there is “spiritual, not sentimental” and doesn’t mind yelling at, yanking, and beating the babies. The babies are prevented from sucking anything—including their hands which have socks tied around them. Their diapers are changed every four hours, regardless of when they are wet or stinky. 

Though the matron has yelled at us and yanked infants out of our arms when we tried to hold them, we’ve sneaked into the place on Sunday mornings when she’s at church to do the forbidden deed. When picking up the children, they become alive, though their bodies are often stiff from sitting for hours on the concrete floor. Their smiles and giggles have touched our hearts. Unfortunately, the whole thing is a huge dilemma for us that requires God’s wisdom. On the one hand, we want to be the hands and feet of Christ who said, “Let the little children come to me,” and held them in his arms. On the other hand, it feels wrong to reject the wishes of the owner/manager of the home who thinks she’s doing what’s best for the babies. So, if you want to join us in praying for wisdom in how to proceed, I would appreciate it.

On a lighter note, I love the holidays, despite the heat. We had a lovely international Thanksgiving dinner last week with South Africans, Nigerians, Lebanese, Indians, Canadians, and Americans. The lack of turkey didn’t hinder us from pausing to offer thanks to the Giver of so many blessings.

I’m looking forward to my Christmas holiday as well. No, I’m not coming back to American this time, but I will be with family. Gretchen, Meghan, and I plan to leave Dec. 17^th for Jordan where we will meet my sister, Jessie for a week. Then, the four of us will head over to Israel for Christmas week where we will celebrate the birth of Christ is His hometown. Then, one more week Jordan-side with Jessie before returning for my last six-months of teaching in Ibadan.

And that’s the update, folks. I’m sure you’ll agree that my life is full, but would you pray that it continues to be filled to overflowing with the fruit that only the Spirit of God can produce within? 

"Overwhelmed by Grace"

I never really enjoyed roller coasters. The queasy feeling one gets as the car slowly inches to the top of an incline from which it will suddenly drop—and along with it your stomach—never held much appeal for me. I don’t mind the twists and turns so much; it’s the ups and downs that get me. The last couple of weeks of my life have been a roller coaster about as enjoyable to me as the Tennessee Tornado.

            My workload on the teaching and learning side has continued to be strenuous. Thankfully, I’m greatly enjoying everything that I’m teaching as well as the subject matter of my online course, but both are laborious. The last few weeks have involved several staff miscarriages and the death of staff member’s loved ones despite arduous prayer. Such difficulties have a way of shaking one’s faith, but we hold to the hope that God will shortly rebuild it stronger than ever before. The most challenging aspect of the last couple of weeks has come from my endeavors to offer counsel to my students. Knowing that I lacked the training and knowledge to provide real therapy, I began the year intending to offer what I could for my students—a listening ear, intercession, any wisdom God chose to impart, and love. It’s all I got. (Yes, I’m been making use of other tools as well—literature, connections, etc.) After some discouraging and confusing experiences, I’m tempted to think what I have is not enough. Such is the feeling, but what is the truth? Though it often escapes me, I must believe 2 Corinthians 9:8 “And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.” The New Living translation says “And God will generously provide all you need. Then you will always have everything you need and plenty left over to share with others.” So I suppose it comes down to a contest between what I feel and what God says is true. I suppose it’s the same contest that mankind has been battling since the beginning of time.

            Sufficed to say, there have been some real downers lately (including also intense spiritual battles within members of our little American House). Desperation has been prevalent in our school, our house, and my heart. Granted, desperation is not bad, it’s just hard. But now this…

            I was chatting with a friend from back home last week and gained great encouragement. She, too, was presented with some life struggles—circumstances that should have overwhelmed her. But instead of being overwhelmed by circumstances, this was her response (she’ll just have to forgive me for publicizing our private conversation; it was just too good):

         “…However, I am still quite overwhelmed by the presence of grace in my life









.

                          

         
There is still suffering
… 




I suffer and I see other people suffer.




 And its not that the suffering is "good.” 




But I can handle it better because I can see the grace.




 Suffering doesn't lead to grace, 




but grace is available even in the suffering




. It’s like the time when I first got glasses as a kid




 and I put them on and went outside and I finally realized what the world looked like. The world was still the same, but my perception was changed.











I am thankful for everything. Like, I see things that I normally wouldn't notice and I feel grateful for their existence.




 And I think that's the key there. I am so grateful that I don't have time to notice how miserable I am.”

I was struck. To be placed in overwhelming circumstances and yet be overwhelmed by grace. Yes. It must be possible for me, too.

         Indeed, such proved possible for me a couple of days ago as a storm blew into Ibadan. Nigerians often find Americans’ love for storms to be alarming. As the black billowing clouds drew close, I found it an acceptable time to go for a jog, despite our gateman’s ardent warning that “It’s going to fall!” (referring to the rain, of course). Upon my return, I sat down in the middle of the rain and asked God to open my eyes to His glory. And wouldn’t you know… I was quickly awestruck at the beauty of His creation. The fallen leaf slowly drifting down the newly formed stream, the sting of the cold drops falling on my bare arms, the dancing trees cast against a background of swirling clouds, accompanied by a rain-on-tin-roof orchestra. Opening my eyes and heart to such beauty left me… overwhelmed. “Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me.” And as I sat in the midst of the falling grace, it was as if I heard His still small voice again—“I love you.”

So the question: Will I see the storms of life as cause for overwhelming anxiety, or will I see the effects of the rain as evidence of his overwhelming grace? May God grant the latter.

Before signing off, I’d like to raise one more prayer point. There seems to be a growing Muslim presence at our school, and with it a felt sense of oppression. Students and parents who, unlike last year, are coming to school covered in black,  students (even those in whom Christ’s work has lately been evident) boldly proclaiming their commitment to Islam, and new students entering the school seemingly secure in their religion, and yet oppressed. We are excited about the increased access to more hearts that Christ died to set free, but are also aware of the enemy’s presence. So, for those willing, I ask you to join us in this spiritual battle (distance is no object for God) by asking our Father for the hearts of these whom He already loves, though they know Him not. Please pray that God would use the Bible classes, daily devotions, and interpersonal interactions to penetrate through darkness and bring light and life to those in need. 

"I love you, too"

In Nigeria, to refrain from warmly greeting those around you is a major offense. Offering a warm “Good morning!” or “Good afternoon!” is recognizing and respecting the existence and humanity of the other.  The most severe “chewing out” that I’ve received since being here the past couple of years was from the mother of an ACA student (not one whom I taught or even knew at the time) who I walked by without greeting. It was serious. With the establishment of greetings as a form of respect, and respect a form of love, allow me to share a revelation.

Last year I developed deep and fruitful relationships with many of my students in Senior School, many whom I counseled or mentored in some way. I’ve grown to deeply love my students and want nothing more than to see them thrive and embrace the life of freedom and abundance that God has planned for them.  While it doesn’t shake my love for them in the least, it’s interesting how little any reciprocal love is displayed from them. I mean, when I directly and blatantly confront them with my love, they may feel compelled to recognize mutual affection. For example, when chatting with one student about her struggles in my little counseling room, I may tell her “I love you,” to which she may reply “I love you, too.” Any other time however, when passing in the hall or in class, the same student may even fail to make eye contact or greet me (i.e. fail to recognize my existence, fail to respect, fail to love).  Such a situation set me to thinking – Is this not often how I interact with God? Though He is constantly watching, caring for, even adoring me, it’s only in “special” situations, when He’s practically yelling “I LOVE YOU!” into my ear that I even attempt to reciprocate and display my love for Him.  I’m thankful that God understands our nature; he understands that we are like the grass of the field blowing this way and that, as a flower so quickly lost of all fragrance and beauty, as dust unable to hold our own shape or position. Having compassionately created and therefore known our nature, He is willing to proclaim His love for us at times loudly and wildly. And when we are finally directly and blatantly confronted with His love, then we are compelled, not from external force but from an internal welling, to mumble back, “I love you, too.” For what else but a mumble is our declaration of love compared to His?

________________________________________________________________________

Things are off to a great start here at ACA. I’m looking forward now to the second full week of school in which, hopefully, most of the students yet to arrive will make an appearance. I’m greatly enjoying my classes so far. As I teach more Language Arts classes, I grow in my appreciation of language and the ability to communicate clearly, precisely, and powerfully to influence and touch hearts and minds. Hopefully, I can teach my students to do the same.

Beginning Bible classes with the Jesus Storybook Bible has been a blast. Perhaps teaching about God shouting “I Love You” through creation and His written word is what inspired the above thoughts. I was thrilled last week to meet a new strong Muslim family in our school who just moved here from Lebanon. It’s always exciting to have the opportunity to share Jesus with people who have never ever heard the Gospel.

Clubs begin this week. Why am I teaching 5 clubs? I don’t know. But, they should mostly hopefully all be fun. I’m most anticipating the Girls Discipleship Club, which starts Wednesday. At the end of last year, God did an awesome work in the club and I am expecting Him to continue to reveal His Truth and Love to these girls. Two 9^th grade girls have agreed to help lead the club. I pray that God blesses and grows their faith as they learn to lead and that He uses them to reach the hearts of their peers.  Thanks for joining me in prayer for this club and all the girls that God chooses to bring into our midst.

One last little prayer request for those who are interested in the small stuff: I’m taking this online Abnormal Psychology course, and it’s more of a beast than I expected. So, staying on top of Lesson Planning, Grading, AND this class is going to be a nice challenge. His grace is sufficient.

Oh…and one more: The new teachers here (Sam and Liz) need some supernatural strength and grace to handle the new challenges of school and Nigerian culture.  Thanks, folks. 

My new counseling room.

Full of Praise and Ready to Work

This morning’s staff praise and worship session provided the first opportunity for me to lead worship since June.  And, boy, do I have reason to worship.  God continues to show me his kindness in ways that I in no way deserve. 

Since returning to ACA, I’ve been repeatedly asked, “How was your summer?” My response? “Perfect.” Now, I realize that “perfect” is perhaps a bit hyperbolic, but really, I stand in awe of the blessings I received this summer. From a wedding celebration with many greatly missed friends, to miraculous week of disability camp, to incredibly encouraging updates from friends, to a stimulating and successful A&P II course, to a beautiful reunion in Hillsdale; I’ve had a blast. Top that off with an amazingly supportive family and an unprecedented amount of encouragement and prayer from my church, and I’m just overflowing! I so appreciated the opportunities I had throughout the summer (in lieu of an adequately updated blog…) to share the work that God did last year in my life and in the school. He has done far more than we could ever ask or imagine, and I take joy in testifying to His faithfulness.  As good as last year was at ACA, and as super as my summer was, I am fully expecting God to do even greater things this coming school year. 

            After a 24 hr. trip from Knoxville to Lagos, I arrived at ACA this past Sunday night. The house was a bit of a wreck when we arrived, partly due to the construction around the compound and partly due to the inevitable mold/mildew growth and rodent infestation. After a few days of unpacking, deep cleaning, throwing out dead rats, and organizing, we’re finally settling in. The three Tennesseeans (Gretchen, Meghan, and I) have been joined this year in the American House by two new teachers, Samantha and Elizabeth.  With God’s grace guiding us, it will be a great group.

            My job description has shifted again this year. Along with some upper level Language Arts classes, I’ll be attempting some counseling—both for emotional needs and college prep. I’m excited to continue leading worship and teaching Bible classes, this year using the Jesus Storybook curriculum—and by the way, if you haven’t read the Jesus Storybook, you’re really missing out. I was so privileged last year to see a large number of students embrace the Gospel for the first time. I anticipate that God will pull many more hearts to Himself this year as His Truth is spread throughout this school.

            Students arrive next Tuesday.  There’s plenty to do before then in preparation. But all work for now is done in the great expectation that God will continue to be faithful as our Provider, our Guide, our Prince of Peace, and our Faithful Friend.

            After plenty of encouragement from friends and family this summer, I have every intention of updating my blog more frequently than last year. We’ll see how long my resolution stands… 

"Though he were dead, yet shall he live..."

When a freshman in college, I read and fell in love with Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. Perhaps the most gripping interaction in the book takes place between Raskolnikov, who has just committed a brutal murder, and Sonia, a desperate prostitute. Sonia, looking into the wretched, despairing eyes of Raskolnikov, reads St. John’s account of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead and at the same time opening the blind eyes of the disbelieving Jews. The story brings magnificent hope to Sonia as she considers this man before her whom she has begun to love: “And he, he—too, is blinded and unbelieving, he, too, will hear, he, too, will believe, yes, yes! At once, now," was what she was dreaming, and she was quivering with happy anticipation.”

My recent thought processes and experiences have led me to remember my love for Dostoevsky, especially the beauty with which he composed this scene (indeed, I intend to begin the novel again immediately upon finishing this blog post).  I’m coming to understand more deeply the needs and hurts of my students, friends, and neighbors around the world.  Finding myself without the capacity to heal, nurture, and satisfy them, yet having the desire to see them enjoy life abundant, I, like Sonia, find great hope in the John 11 passage.  Sure, I have serious flaws and limitations, but Jesus… JESUS!!!  Perhaps, contrary to my too-frequent opinion, my job is not be the Jesus in the story, but to be the Martha who called upon Jesus and—though the Savior did not arrive until after her brother’s death—trusted completely in the power that Jesus had to bring life from death.

I think it no coincidence that, at the same time that I had been dwelling upon the story of Christ’s resurrecting power, my Bible Curriculum told me to teach on John 11. Perhaps He’s trying to teach me something here… What a joy it has been this past week to begin reading the story of Lazarus and the unbelieving onlookers with my students, many of whom desperately need to hear the voice of Jesus clearly saying, “Come forth!” and need to be freed from the stinking grave clothes which bind them. It is with great hope that I read this story to those before me whom I have begun to love: “And these, these—too, are blinded and unbelieving, these, too, will hear, these, too, will believe, yes, yes! At once, now!”

Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in Me though he were dead, yet shall he live. – John 11: 25

"Fixing our eyes on Him..."

Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” (Matt. 14:29-30).

I find questions inquiring about my status, such as “How are you?” and “How’s life?” to be a bit difficult to answer these days. The most honest answer I can give is, “It depends on who or what I’m looking at.” When Peter was walking on water but surrounded by crashing waves, his answer to such questions may have greatly varied from one moment to the next. He most likely felt utter euphoria as his arms and gaze extended towards Jesus; after all, Peter was manifesting the power of God as he miraculously stepped out onto the water. Yet, when the torrential storm and tumultuous waters won his attention, his elation quickly turned to extreme trepidation and desperation. I, like Peter, have a tendency of submitting to the winds which vie for my attention.  The truth is that God’s power and grace is being constantly displayed in and around me. My appreciation of such beautiful works is less constant.

            The past month at the American Christian Academy has been busy, hectic, and awesome for “Ms. Lee Anne” (again, depending on where my focus lands). If I’m not mistaken, this is the first time that I’ve been able to sit down without school work for more than thirty minutes without feeling guilty. The day after I arrived (Jan. 2) I began teaching a full load of classes, hoping that my Jet Lag would not cause too much teacher absurdity. My diverse class schedule keeps me on my toes—in one day, literally, jumping from 12^th grade composition to 4^th grade English to 8^th Grade literature to Preschool music to 2^nd and 3^rd grade Bible to 10^th grade debate (stringy sentences such as these, I tell my students, are exhausting to read—but so is my schedule). I’m lovin’ it.

            Perhaps my favorite twenty minutes of the week comes on Thursdays when I make my way to the pre-nursery and nursery classes (my students from last year). I’m still so in love with those kiddos. Their smiles, hugs, and giggles brighten my week. Best moment? When, in the middle of “I just want to be a Sheep” I begin “crying” because “I don’t want to be a SADduccee” and all 30 kids attack me, patting my head and saying “Sorry, Ms. Lee Anne! Sorry!” They say you need so many meaningful touches a day; well, that moment lasts me a week.

            Some of my senior school classes have had the opposite effect on my mental and emotional state over the past couple of weeks. Trying to motivate students to, say, learn to write or develop a debate case, when they find it an unnecessary and impossible task, is a constant uphill battle. I’m just begging for God’s continued grace and patience as I engage in such battles.

            On the spiritual front, God has been blasting away at the enemy. It’s been awesome to see Him softening hearts and creating within them a hunger for His deliverance. Two weeks ago began a series of conversations and talks with the second grade class after Bible class which resulted in several of them (including a couple from Muslim families) choosing to believe in and follow Jesus. Though I had not yet told them of Jesus’ death and resurrection, they were desperate to know this Jesus whom we have been reading about in Bible. At one point, I was walking by the playground when I was startled by several young girls running at me and yelling, “We want to know God!! We want to know God!!” Well, my friends, He wants that, too! It is the greatest privilege and blessing to be a part of the expansion of the Kingdom of God in this way.

            In other news, I had my first pedicure ever today… in Nigeria; odd, I know. My feet feel…soft. Also, our well is dry. In case you’re wondering, going four days without washing your hair is not THE greatest feeling.

            Overall, I am thankful for the ways that God is showing me His grace, using me, and drawing me closer to Himself. I’m grateful for multiplying opportunities to speak into the lives of several senior-school girls who are struggling to figure out life. I praise God for this environment in which He is stretching and molding me more into His likeness. The key, I reckon, is for me to continue fixing my eyes on Him, the author and perfector of my faith (Heb 12:2).

Thank you for your continued prayer.