tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68050508826206263172024-02-22T12:55:26.988-08:00A Turning WorldCelestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-80760172785403350882014-03-12T21:06:00.001-07:002015-02-19T09:31:56.021-08:00Ready to Stand<br />
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These
hands have held babies in three different countries, they have been
thrust into the snow and the mud, these hands have guided pens and
pencils and gave food to the hungry, they have been scraped and
cracked but still continue on.</div>
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These
eyes have seen rain, sun, fog, snow and sleet, they have seen huge
cities and tiny villages, these eyes have seen people and seen into
them, they have seen a lust for life and a struggle to go on, they
have seen pure joy and devastating sorrow.</div>
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With
these hands and eyes I take a stand. I stand for what I believe is
right, those that can't and equality for all. I stand for hope in the
future, for loving your neighbor and change.</div>
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I
stand with my brothers and sisters, all over the world, with those
who speak truth, fight for freedom and pray for peace. I stand with
those who stand beside me, in front of me, and behind, with men and
women who recognize they have a purpose, use their voice, respect
those around them and embrace who they are.</div>
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I
stand on the shoulders of the courageous, the bold and the strong.
The shoulders of leaders and followers, teachers and learners,
speakers and listeners. I stand on the inspiration of those before
me; the perseverance of MLK, the teachings of Gandhi, the compassion
of Nelson Mandela, the loyalty of Peter, the sacrifice of Mother
Teresa, the drive of Micheal Gallagher.</div>
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With
these hands and these eyes, in this moment and the next, I will stand
and say “ I seek not a long life, but a full one.”</div>
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Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-81876034272202436752014-01-26T11:50:00.000-08:002014-01-26T11:50:32.159-08:00The show must go onPush through. Tough it out. The show must go on. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I feel like these phrases, and phrases like them are tossed around often, I know I've used them in the past, but recently they found a new meaning with me. <br />
I was so lucky and excited to be cast as the female lead in my school's winter production. Ma Joad in the Grapes of Wrath, but about a week before we opened I started to get sick. It felt worse than any cold or virus I had ever had. My throat was in so much pain whenever I would swallow anything, even my own saliva that at times I would drop to the floor, and barley ate. My throat was the real issue, but my voice came and went, and I occasionally had a cough or runny nose. I missed school but couldn't miss rehearsal. The weekend before we opened I found myself crying on my bed, worried I wouldn't be able to perform.<br />
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Opening day came, and I was feeling better, but not healthy. I cheated as much as I could. I hid cough drops in my apron, bottles of hot water on both sides on the stage and a handkerchief to make any coughing on stage look in-character. Each day of the show I felt a little better, but didn't fully recover until after the show was over. I was worried being sick would ruin the experience for me, but I feel that it taught me something.<br />
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It didn't matter that I wasn't feeling up to snuff, I couldn't let my director, cast members or audience down. I had to rally whatever energy I had, and give the best possible show I could. And to be honest, we put on one heck of a show. <br />
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I'm almost glad that happened to me. I've always wondered what would happen if I got sick before a show, and questioned if I'd be tough enough to push through. This experience allowed me to realize I'm stronger than I realize, and that no matter what... The show must go on.Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-63759556274414492202013-09-17T21:08:00.001-07:002013-09-17T21:08:24.256-07:00Quick ThoughtI know I have not written in awhile, and I don't plan to say a lot at this moment. I just wanted to share the fantastic fact that if you ask God to show up, If you ask him to move or to speak to you, he will. And I think that's pretty cool. <br />
Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-50153966449175014602013-03-14T10:10:00.003-07:002013-03-14T10:10:46.333-07:00A Letter to a friendThere is something that connects us, That I can't describe<br />
something that lasts, though the distance between us is wide<br />
I don't know what you do now, or how you spend your days<br />
the only memories I have are jumbled in a haze<br />
<br />
This thing that connects us, will let us meet again<br />
in the meantime I wait, happy to call you friend<br />
when my day is ending yours has just began<br />
its crazy what can happen when you let go of your plan<br />
<br />
A year ago I didn't know you exist<br />
instead of faces and names I saw only an empty pit<br />
the chance to come and meet was what I long dreamed<br />
time spent with you was more valuable then it seemed<br />
<br />
so long I had to spend, being pushed to go on<br />
but what i wouldn't give to get back whats gone<br />
each laugh, each cry, each and every night<br />
was a blessing, a miracle,, a shinning light<br />
<br />
A place I didn't believe as I planned to start<br />
would be able to capture a piece of my heart<br />
and yet here I am with one piece gone<br />
it was left in that shack, in that kid, in that song<br />
<br />
Africa, I don't know when I'll return<br />
but my love for you will continue to burn<br />
Africa, I'll come back to your land<br />
but its all in his timing, its all in his planCelestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-14354237082558747342013-02-16T19:01:00.001-08:002013-02-16T19:01:16.446-08:00How will I make my mark?<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">However small it might have been, I have made a mark on the hearts of children in Deipsloot, a squatter camp in South Africa. It was a smile, a funny dance, and a hug to tell them they are worth loving. I’ve made a mark, on Rita, 12-year-old AIDs orphan from Zambia. It was holding her in my lap, and crying with her as she shared her story with me. I’ve made a mark on the Esther school in Chongwe by cutting trees and moving cinder blocks for days in the African heat. It is by looking at where I have been, and the impact that I have made that I know I was put here for a reason. I was put here to change the world. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Often when I say that people are taken back, it’s not exactly something the average 16 year old expects to do. I can read the doubt on the faces of strangers who hear my claim, but those who know me are excited about my plans. Plans. That implies I have an outline, a roadmap to a destination, but I have nothing of the sort. I have no idea how I will be used to change the world or even what that change will look like. So how do I know I’ll change the world? Let me explain.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I have a passion for people, especially the people often forgotten or looked down on by society. The homeless, orphans, widows, abused and those trapped in poverty have all captured a piece of my heart. It is this passion that has led me to promoting hunger awareness in my own community by not eating for 30 hours, and has led me to the villages and streets of Africa. It is this passion that has forced me to question my society’s views of success. Why would I be happy with millions of dollars if I know other people don’t even have access to clean drinking water? It is this passion that will not allow me to settle with a “good life” but strive for a meaningful one.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> My life will mean something by focusing on individual people rather then statistics or numbers. One child dies every 12 seconds from poverty related causes. That’s not just a number! That is a child that was carried for 9 months in it’s mother, breathed, cried and felt the pain of death. Alone I can’t end hunger, end poverty, disease or human trafficking, but I can help individuals who are trapped in these circumstances. I’m called to use my gifts and resources to help PEOPLE, not organizations or myself. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The beauty of not having a plan is that I get to dream. I still have a year until I graduate high school. That means I still have a year to dream and plan. I still might not have a plan when I graduate and that is okay. I might leave behind everything that is comfortable and that I know. I might end up in a rural village to open a school or a community center to teach English and sexual education. I might stay here and open a business in which all the money is donated to a humanitarian organization. I might simply join a non-profit focusing on homeless youth in America. These are things I think about and consider doing, but whatever I do, wherever I go, I will make a difference. I will leave my mark.</span></div>
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Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-36406486222614725192013-01-21T18:12:00.002-08:002013-01-21T18:12:49.362-08:00I give you all my lifeAlways look toward the future and always move forward, that's what we are supposed to do right? Time is precious and can't be wasted, not when there is so much to do be done both in the moment and for the future. I believe That God will use me to change the world (however big or small) but I don't know how and that has been a struggle. Not knowing the path you are being led down is scary, but is it the same as being lost?<div>
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I just got back from a weekend retreat up on mount Baker. I was expecting fun with friends, good food and to maybe meet a new person or two. I was expecting God to meet people right where they were, but not me because I have heard all the camp talks a hundred times over. I wasn't expecting God to reveal anything to me, and in a way, I was right.</div>
<div>
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The second night the speaker left the path of basic, expected topics. Instead he talked about us being made to do something, having a purpose. Something that I strongly believe. He talked about a desire to leave a mark, a desire for our lives to mean something. This is a desire, I can definitely say, that we have. He talked about God wanting to tell us what it was he was calling us to, and asked us to commit to that (whatever it might be) by dipping our hands in paint and leaving our mark on a piece of canvas; creating a work of art together.</div>
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I began to get excited, God was finally going to tell me what I'll do! The worship band started playing, and it was obvious that the Holy Spirit was moving. People began to make hand prints, large groups at a time. God wasn't speaking to me. As the first song ended, it felt like everyone had left "their mark" and I began to feel like I wouldn't. Not only that I wouldn't leave a hand print but that desire to mean something would never be fulfilled. Desperate for answer, i practically begged for an answer as I sang the worship song</div>
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<br /></div>
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"I give you all my life, I'm letting it go. A living sacrifice, no longer my own.All I am is yours.All I am is yours. I give you everything, to you I belong. Every beat of my heart, the breath in my lungs. All I am is yours. All I am is yours."</div>
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And I finally heard God's voice! But it wasn't an answer I liked. He told me, "If you really want to follow me, to give your whole life to me, your timing isn't important! I'll tell you when the time is right so for now, I want you to wait." At this i became slightly frustrated, but recognized the truth in these words, I walked to the front and left my hand's print on the cloth. I know there are great things to come, things no one can imagine, but for now, I wait. </div>
Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-51222887559664945432012-12-30T17:44:00.000-08:002012-12-30T17:44:01.009-08:00Who needs water?I've always tended to save quotes and files in my email drafts so I wont lose or forget them. I was going through and cleaning it out when I found this that I wrote back in 2009.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
So much running through your head you cant focus on anything else you know both what you want and what you need, but you cant take the steps to get it, its like your in the desert weak from dehydration, you know you want and need water but your not sure how to get it, and even if you found out your are too weak to get there; so you just sit and wait in the midst of the sand storm all around you.<br />
<br />
You block it all out, pretending that since you cant see water there is none. but you know there are people who can help, but you are to tired to reach out. Your afraid if you do your open hands will stay empty and you'll look like a fool. so you sit alone and wait, each minute of each day the thirst growing stronger.<br />
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You are so afraid of being rejected, you never try to be accepted. instead you wait by yourself and try to find a way to make your own copy of the real thing. When you know deep down it's impossible; you just keep trying. Every time you fail makes you feel thirstier and more lost and helpless then ever. you still don't reach out, you never do. you continue to grow thirstier and more lost and helpless until you finally die. All because you were too afraid of looking like a fool, and being rejected, to ask for help.<br />
Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-39042873563733426062012-12-07T18:36:00.002-08:002012-12-07T18:36:52.227-08:00Pushing and PullingIt is difficult when a friendship you expect to last a lifetime manages to fade away. No fight, falling out or even upset emotions, just a silent distancing. I tend to wonder if I did something wrong. It's a battle to know when to pursue that laid aside relationship and when to let it go. Since there was no official end, can we still hope for a revival?<br />
<br />
I supposed it is these kind of endings that can hurt the most; somewhere so deep inside you can only recognize it flipping through photographs or as you toss and turn on sleepless nights. Remembering laughs, adventures and growth causing conversations. The what-ifs plaguing your mind with "If only we saw each other more" "If I had called more" " If we had figured out a way to talk more" or, the worst of all, "Do they still think about me?" No matter what we believe it to be the answer to this can be detrimental. It can lead us to a harsh realization its over or to a false sense of hope. However that hope is short lived as we realize they ignore out facebook messages and over thought texts.We can't tell them what we've thought about, cried over, and prayed for. If the opportunity to talk was there how would we use it? What could we say to fix months of not speaking and return to normal?<br />
<br />
I'm forced to recognize that in my situation there is nothing that can complete this task. The connections I am missing were built so strong from being pushed outside of our comfort zones and needing a friendly face. Formed over being cut off from everyone we knew and needing someone to talk to. Seeking someone to laugh with, share with, confide in and vent to. I need to face these facts, and that if a continued friendship is not mutually desired, the ones that i formed will remain in that place and are gone from me today.Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-60627044572489038502012-11-20T20:58:00.000-08:002012-11-20T20:58:25.520-08:00Rita's StoryI went to Africa expecting to see the things Ive read about and seen in documentaries. I had done my best to prepare myself for the poverty and the sickness, the things people may share with me. However, on one of the first nights in Zambia, I asked God to "break my heart for what breaks his". (WARNING: DON'T ASK FOR THAT UNLESS YOU ARE SURE YOU WANT IT!!) Trust me, he did. The biggest way was through a little girl, Rita.<br />
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In Zambia, for one week we did a out reach camp, "Camp hope". One day while my team members were playing games with the rest of the kids, I grabbed our translator and asked Rita to sit and talk with me, in a more personal setting then the whole group. I asked her a simple question, just small talk.<br />
<br />
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"<br />
"No, they all died."<br />
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She then proceeded to tell me her story. She had used to live in the city, in Lusaka. She used to have brothers, a big sister, and a mom and dad. A happy family. Her brothers died a long time ago. Then one day, her father was walking home from work when he was hit by a car. He was in the hospital for a little while, but didn't make it. Then one day Rita was with her sister, when her dress caught on fire and burned up to her chest. She was scared but could not do anything as she watched her sister burn to death in front of her.<br />
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At this point, Rita started to cry. She quickly wiped the tears away and looked in the other direction clearly embarrassed. As I assured her it was OK to cry she continued talking. Her mother was still alive, however she had been diagnosed with AIDS. The AIDS had gotten very bad recently, and the Doctor didn't expect her to live throughout the week.<br />
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When Rita was finished talking, I told Albert (the translator) he could go if he wanted. (I was told later that he had walked away with tears in his eyes). And I just sat, and held Rita in my lap.<br />
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As I continued to go over her story in my mind, my own eyes began to water. Rather then wipe them away, I pulled back, wanting to remind Rita, that it is okay to cry. She looked up at me, and smiled, a real smile, and reached up to my face and wiped off my tears as her own spilled down her cheeks.Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-28944491867191933062012-11-03T20:51:00.001-07:002012-11-03T20:51:08.697-07:00A Turning WorldThe reason for the name of this blog.<br />
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A turning world, not the world spinning around the sun or rotating on it's axis, but instead the sad truth of too many people turning away from poverty, disease, hunger, loneliness and pain. We like to imagine its to far away for us to care. But its not. The world is turning away from need on a global scale but also in our own communities and cities.<br />
It is "Safer" to turn your eyes to the ground then to acknowledge the man with the sign on the corner. It's more reassuring to turn concerned thoughts towards blame of a woman selling her body in a hotel. It is easy to be confident that all the needs of abused, lost or homeless youth are taken care of by Child Protective Services. I'm not denying these facts. It is so much easier to pretend it all doesn't exist. But I'm tired of sitting on the sidelines while innocent people suffer, so to start I'm going to let my voice be heard. And I hope that you will listen.Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-6826408268687401052012-10-24T17:02:00.001-07:002012-10-24T17:02:26.587-07:00The Journey (A post Written in Zambia)As I sat in worship the other night, I was reminded. Not by the words spoken by the PD, or the group prayer, but something brought a memory to my mind. It was almost exactly 5 years go when I grabbed one of my friends, stepped out of the aisle, and gave my life to Christ. I didn't fully understand his love, or even what the word grace was, and I had no idea what giving my life to him would mean. Here I am, years later still not fully understanding him, half way around the world wondering where he will lead me next. Where will I be in another 5 years?<br />
<br />
When we give ourselves to Christ, he will do more with our lives, then we ever could of done on our own. In a way, having a specific plan for your live is silly, because he's not going to change his call on your life to fit into your white picket fence mentality. It's important that we still have dreams and goals, but if you find yours don't match up with where he is leading you, don't let them hold you back.<br />
<br />
Jeremiah 29:11 has practically become a motto on this trip.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> (<sup class="versenum" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;"> "</sup>For I know the plans<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-19647A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup> I have for you,” declares the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>, “plans to prosper<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-19647B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup> you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.) In VBS we told the story of Joseph. He didn't know why so many difficult and painful things were happening to him. I highly doubt he had hoped to be betrayed by his brothers and planned to be sold into slavery. Yet God had a plan, one that Joesph didn't understand, but followed. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I can't speak for anyone else, but I can say that I love being able to look back at my life and say "Wow, look where God has brought me", it's an encouragement both from the past and for the future. I enjoy sharing with the people we meet in villages about how Christ can radically change your life. I've dreamed about Africa for years, been convinced I would go<i> someday</i>, written letters to celebrities and organizations asking for help to get there, and yet if you had told me just 8 months ago, that I would be here, sitting on a dirt mound in Zambia, I would of laughed in your face.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">But here I am, this is where God has brought me. Places I never believed I'd go, doing things I never would of dreamed, with people that I couldn't of imagined. If you look back at your life where has he brought you? The better question, that makes me nervous and extremely excited; Where is he <u>going </u>to take us? </span>Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-28254472192974583032012-10-17T17:20:00.001-07:002012-10-17T17:25:07.585-07:00Reflection About My DirectionJust 2 months ago i had to wake up a buddy, pull on shoes and a sweatshirt and stumble through the<br />
darkness under a star filled sky to get to an out house with a broken door and a hole in the ground to use the bathroom at night. Just 2 months ago, I was constantly nervous about and occasionally saw snakes, tarantulas and giant ants that hiss. I could only drink bottled water and there wasn't a grocery store or McDonald's in sight. Trips were made on dirt and gravel roads and I was constantly met with communication barriers. At the end of the day I was exhausted, and dirty and desperate for a hot shower, that wasn't an option. Just 2 months ago, everyday was a challenge and everyday had a purpose. Just 2 months ago I spoke words of life, continued learning and held orphans. 2 months ago i was committed to letting God guide and use me, staying attentive to his call and slowly falling in love with his word. That was where I was at just 2 months ago.<br />
When I lay in bed trying to fall asleep but instead I'm reminded of a moments, someones face or a story, something that proves to me I was really there. I can't help but be shocked by where I was, a place I never thought I could be and then shocked even more at where i am now, a place dangerously close to where i left. AMAZING things happened, and I saw God's POWER, so how can I slip back into the same routine? How can i Continue to be a zombie at school or struggle to have my quiet times? If you asked me if I had changed, I would point to the things that have things searching for leadership positions in my church and different ministry opportunities. These differences are great, and should in no way be discredited but I've simply realized that I still have a long way to go. 2 months ago was a taste, a sneak peak of what life can be like, now i just have to pursue it. Where will you be in 2 months?Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-4665144204332936272012-09-29T17:37:00.001-07:002012-09-29T17:37:28.502-07:00The Experience I've looked into the eyes of the oppressed<br />
saw the desperation and fear of the distressed<br />
I saw churches of believers torn to the ground<br />
heard mother's stories of babies born without a sound<br />
gave an ear to a woman previously abused<br />
knelt before a girl simply being used<br />
a woman so sick she couldn't leave her bed<br />
a little boy with a smile on his face, but bruises on his head<br />
spoken with men where false teachings led them astray<br />
confronted and asked what is worth living for day to day<br />
I prayed over a girl with legs misshapen<br />
families broken by miles of separation<br />
children ripped screaming from mother's arms<br />
an angel so hurt and alone, she turned to self harm<br />
kids alone playing in the street<br />
clothes torn, hair knotted no shoes on their feet<br />
<br />
I've seen a woman dieing of AIDS<br />
But I've also had a orphan tug my hair into braids<br />
playing and sharing candy with tenacious and surprise<br />
letting God use me to open people's eyes<br />
while occasionally i was rejected<br />
it wasn't me, but Christ reflected<br />
In a place where many don't know Jesus<br />
he blessed me to be the one, to help with the pieces<br />
getting to talk with two girls my age<br />
god gave me the words for the 1, 2, and 3rd stage<br />
the world around us is in such pain<br />
be encouraged what Christ calls us to isn't in vain<br />
his people are hurt and broken<br />
will you be his voice spoken?Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-87638532064848918192012-09-23T17:03:00.001-07:002012-09-23T17:03:12.086-07:00A word from the pastOn our first morning in Zambia, I woke up with words in my head. As I went through breakfast, instead of going away even more came to me. So during quite time i wrote them down. What came out was a message for my fellow team mates. While, i thought it was specifically written for C trip (those who went to South Africa and Zambia) I began to realize it was for the whole team, A, B, and C! I shared it with James (our team leader) later that day and he told me i could share it on one of the last days in country. When that time came closer i read it to Dave (Project director) and he agreed it was something that should be shared. However, due to all the chaos of one last night across the world, the time never came for it to be read. Yet, i decided i still wanna share it with my team, and whoever elese may be out there reading this.<br />
For those of you who were on the trip, you probably can remember i kept writing poems during my quiet times, words that God just laid on my heart. This is the first one, the one i felt needed to be shared with you the most, but never got to. I hope God will speak to you, and remind you of the things he told you while we were thousands of miles from home. He wants to use you were you are, just as much as in Zambia or South Africa. God is still POWERFULL, he is still our HEALER, he still looks at you with LOVE, and he still has a PLAN for your life.<br />
<br />
All you princesses and the prince,<br />
Listen because you need to know this<br />
We've had a time of learning and growth<br />
Given men and women the everlasting hope<br />
But now is the time to stand firm and proud<br />
Don't listen to the world telling you your life is to loud<br />
<br />
While we were changing the world across an ocean<br />
we were able to push away homely thoughts and emotions<br />
For now we are leaving behind this wide open land<br />
abandoning the yellow grass, scattered rocks and sand<br />
God called us here for such a time as this<br />
to see the faces of the people the world doesnt know exists<br />
<br />
As we begin to make the long journey home<br />
be reminded there are people there just as alone<br />
The work we did here was important and grand<br />
But we live where we are to take a stand<br />
Don't let this trip be a single chance<br />
But opening a door, the first step of the dance<br />
<br />
We are called to a single great commision<br />
and we must choose daily to live out our mission<br />
All around the world, people are broken<br />
If we just follow his spirit, the right words can be spoken<br />
At home the world can cause you to fall<br />
stay deep in the word, committed to his call<br />
<br />
If in christ we stay firmly rooted<br />
There is no chance for the enemy to loot it<br />
These words I'm saying are not my own<br />
But christ in me, changing my tone<br />
If you only hear one thing here today<br />
Don't let the love of christ in you pass away<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-59732160576540201592012-08-07T13:38:00.002-07:002012-08-07T13:43:13.581-07:00Street Jabulani kids?Journal from June 21, 2012.<br />
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Today my ministry group was doing hut to hut in Diepsloot. We came to the end of one of the streets and were surrounded by so many kids we decided it would be a good idea to stop for awhile. We played games for awhile, something like our dodge ball using a plastic bag, and then there were no more ideas on what to do. So we gathered all the kids together for a story, a few more hopped in and we had at least 20 kids. Without any other stories, we told them about Jesus coming and dieing on the cross (which had actually been our Jabulani kids (JK) story). Then I asked if anyone wanted to accept Jesus and a few did, so I got to pray with them, and talk about how we can talk to God whenever we want to. <br />
Then we did our JK songs right in the middle of the street! Brittany had the songs on her phone, but it was to quiet to work. So we were our own music, in our out of tune, out of breath (due to the jumping and rolling movements of the songs) voices. We literally had street Jabulani kids, with no props, no sound box, no sticky dots or candy, just us, a group of kids, and learning about Jesus. It was great, even thougth it was unplanned and unorganized, thats what made it so special.Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805050882620626317.post-40957000348932380992012-08-03T17:15:00.001-07:002012-08-03T17:37:04.686-07:00June 17, African Church!The following is my journal from June 17, which was the 2nd day in South Africa.<br />
<br />
Church today was Amazing! As we drove through Diepsloot (one of the squatter camps, 250,000 people living in a 2 mile radius!) people everywhere were starring and waving at our bus. The church had different sections of carpet laid over dirt, about 2 and a half cement walls, and the rest, roof included was a tent. <br />
Througthout the whole service, people, especially children would walk by the window and wave. There was even a little boy who stood outside blowing us kisses. At one point there were so many kids were surrounding the window,an older woman came and told them to leave.<br />
The service, especially worship was everything I'd hoped for, full of singing and crazy, or should I say passionate, dancing. There was a point where people came forward and began a dancing, circular conga line. If you know me you wouldn't be surprised that I wanted to join so badly. I wasn't sure if I could, but a man made space and motioned for me to join. I hopped at the chance. I was the only person from my group, the only white and/or nonafrican person. Best moment of my life. <br />
After church and going to the impact Africa cresh (school) for lunch we went down to the soccer pitch and split into our ministry groups, we only had a few minutes but it was our first time out in the community. We decided to focus on the kids that surrounded the pitch. At first there were just a few, but then there were 5, then 8, then 12! The girls loved to play with my hair, because it was light and long. They all also loved to be picked up. I picked up as many as I could. There was a boy that was a bit dirtier then the others, and had a mysterious sticky black substance on his hands and face. There was about 6 seconds where I let that bother me before I picked him up and hugged him too. When we had to leave it was hard because all the kids were following along and wanted to come with. <br />
We also had session tonight. I chose to make a commitment to letting God use me, to work through me in ways that I could never do. I felt nudged in my heart to go pray for certain people, and as much as I didn't want to I stepped out of my comfort zone and did. A little later one of the interns came over and asked to pray for me. He said allot of stuff, but the only thing I can remember is him calling me "a dangerous weapon". I don't know why, but that really stuck out. <br />
Ministry starts tomorrow, I'm so excited!<br />
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<br />Celestehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16830559518434800209noreply@blogger.com0South Africa-30.559482 22.937506-37.553973 12.830084 -23.564991 33.044928