MT4JC (Pt. |)

We left in a dash.
Life was left tangled, blazing there behind me, red light hissing through a half-open door.
I'd been holding problems back for a long time, everything was catching up to me all at once,
and I didn't have that desired time to put these fires out before I left.

Monday morning sailed me two thousand miles away,
and strangely enough that chaos became smaller- untouchable- withered.   

And so it didn't begin with the messes being fixed and the doors neatly being closed at my back;
it began with my abandoned castles watching the tide rise and wash my imperfect plans away perfectly. 
It began with a dash.

Our Hawaii team joined forces with Valley Bible Church in Pleasanton, CA,
and there wasn't a minute to spare worrying about the knots that used to fill my skies.
We were here with a goal that required every beat of your heart,
and forged that heart into a committed unity. 

Around training, midnight prowls to In-N-Out were elbowed in,
a peerless cruise to Half Moon Bay gloated over,
and the Golden Gate shuffled, strolled, and edged across. 

Mavericks, sleeping

Four o'clock Friday morning arrived,
and our ninety-something crew set off in a caravan of
fifteen vehicles. 
To me, a world of strangers with the same mind
and the same love. 
And thus began team living. 

We drove two full days to reach the Reservation, 
and that's enough to drive anyone to licorice. 

Saturday night after eleven we beheld our pursuit, Immanuel Mission,
and held our first vespers/evening worship/devo on the Rez. 

From this point on we especially kicked into action mode,
engaging ourselves for God and just living to worship.

For our stay I worked with the concrete crew,
and I will never look at a sidewalk the same way.
We shoveled our own gravel from the wash, learned
the secret formula for concrete, and laid the flat
for a greenhouse and an observatory.

Throughout the week our group continued in
worship, testimonies, and just receiving God.
Rattlesnakes were apprehended, weeds demolished,
rusty trailers slashed to shreds. 

Every day after work crews we had Navajo family ministry,
where I moved offsite with a new team of six to pair up with this amazing family,

who by the end of the week were telling the parable of the sower back to us. 

Navajo Family Ministry included games, good food,
testimonies, Bible exploring, and yes, face-paint. 

I came here expecting it to be great.  Doing good things for good reasons.  
But God turned my reasons upside down in quiet ways.
  Every day was exhausting, rewarding, eye-opening, and so worthwhile. 
God is personal.  I stopped ignoring the word relationship.
I came out here abandoning everything that I had been submerged in. 
I came out lost and ready to stop suffocating, ready to bow down and seek.
And I had to wait.  But God is with us.   
Surrounding us with newness of life, asking to be the air we breathe;
all I could do was say yes. 

Before, I'd really tried to calculate it out.
Plans go wrong.  I needed a formula. 
Something that worked every single time. 

I couldn't make life work for me,
but I knew someone who sure could.  
So, God, let's make a deal.  I'll deny myself, follow you; you make appearance on command, carry through, answer me with what I ask for.   

That was never following, though, and for once
I took the chance to lay everything down and get pumped about where I can follow God next instead of worrying about where next to take God with me. 



The best of my time there was just
deepening in His Words,
seeing so clearly His hand and His plan,
and loving God, loving Jesus personally. 
Owning new hope, leaning on old faith. 

He is; He answers; He loves. 
He is good; He takes care of us;
He is wise; He is wonderful. 

On our last day at the Rez, we celebrated with baptisms,
a pizza party with all our Navajo families, and a presentation and message. 
God's hand was purposeful and present, and even during the baptisms people
were giving themselves to God; salvation stood among us, the Living God.