Sunrise already finds me far from home, in an unfamiliar hub, bound for an unfamiliar continent.
But this feeling is familiar… This “it-never-gets-old” sense we always get when we’re perched on the edge of some new territory. Together.
Off we go. And not for a week or two, but for a month. Not sure if this trip goes by the label of ministry or mission… Probably some of both.
Pray for us in Bolivia, speaking first, then spending time in orphanages in the mountains. Pray we’ll have an over-abundance of love to give away in a land where the concept of family has been almost entirely destroyed.
And while you’re at it, pray we’ll find enough internet to post a photo or two between now and the middle of March. 🙂
“How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!
If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand…”
Crashing waves on endless beaches always do something moving in my soul.
For the larger God looms, the less I fear my problems.
And God grows at the beach in my little mind. By virtue of sheer volume of sand; sheer power of water.
If you don’t understand me, go count the grains in a teaspoon of sand from the neighbor kid’s sandbox.
My long silence has had to do with crossing the United States by car. (then back again). The trip is only half done… But one of the highlights was certainly gathering on the beach at AMEN conference with the surgeons, physicians, dentists, and PHDs and their little ones building sand sculptures from the bible.
You’ve never watched anything like it…
Words fail of conveying sufficient depth and gravity.
Clichés like: “I’ll never be the same” apply, but still don’t tell it like it is…
I throb thankfulness while I grope for expressions worthy, and finally conclude-
Our best statements are understatements.
Because once again, our God has outdone Himself, blessing when we went to bless.
How I needed the quiet. How I needed to see the rocks that cried red. How I needed the battle to refocus. How I needed to be broken and healed, raised up out of weakness, charged to fight…
Reminded that I am nothing.
Reminded that “All things work together for good…”
Thank You Jesus.
Thank you, beautiful friends from all over the continent…
We love you…
Taste of the Tour from Sean Nebblett on Vimeo.
Spent hours this morning in a warm little Austrian living room, talking of Heaven… (While the clouds were deciding whether or not to cry.) Now my heart carries a peculiar little twinge.
I want to go Home…
But then I look out the window and remember where I am, and what I have left to do before it’s time to leave.
Heaven is my home, but earth is my workplace.
And it’s not yet time to go…
. . . . . . . . .
I live on a cursed planet, thanks to my first father’s ingratitude.
But I think the curse rests more heavily in some places than others.
This place is unreal. The pictures are pitiful.
I’ve never been to a place where the curse seems to rest more lightly.
Look, the sun just came out.
For lots of reasons. Not the least of which being huge windows wide open…
with no screens.
We’re safe, and snug, and thankful in Torre Pellice. More in the morning. 🙂
I have one question.
And my question is why.
Beads of sweat glistening on my brow, three-fourths of the way down the field on a mission to plunder noxious weeds– I stop. I stare horrified at nothingness as the agonized words of my friend pound home.
“Why!?! . . . People cry over little stories of cats and dogs–“
“But there’s no weeping over the cross.”
“No sorrow over the sacrifice.”