Missing Ingredients

I'm very gung-ho about strict vegetarianism.  There is a certain level of awareness about what goes into fueling my body that is, truth be told, addicting.  All that said, pre-vegan Vivian loved when Rachel would make a massive pan of Pad Thai.  It's a dish that I now crave as much for nostalgia's sake as flavor's.  About a month ago this craving prompted me to attemp a vegan version of Pad Thai. After all, I'm living in Southeast Asia. How hard could it be?

Apparently harder than I thought.

A few attempts later, I messaged Rachel to figure out what I was missing.  The answer? Shrimp and fish paste.  And it doesn't matter how I manipulate the tofu or rice vinegar or soy.  The food tastes good, but it isn't what I'm craving.

This isn't the first time missing ingredients have tripped me up.  I was reminded of that last night when Danny, Pip, and I chatted over a cup of tea.  They were encouraging me in my pursuit of Bible school and I was explaining how foreign missions are heavy on my heart.

"It doesn't matter what you eat or how healthy you can help someone become physically," I said.  "If there's a soul problem, all the physical help in the world can't replace Christ, you know?"

Danny's response hit me hard. "Right.  These are good things, but they can't be in lieu of Christ.  You can use them as tools to show Christ to lost people, but you can't replace Christ with a diet plan."

Ouch.

Why did it sting? I know those things. I've said nearly identical words myself.  

It stung because even though I had started out with those intentions at the Y, the light I strove to be flickered when the peer pressure mounted.  Lying awake last night, reality came crashing in: my career at the Y didn't fail because it was a dark place, it failed because I neglected the main ingredient.  No career, fitness or mission based, will satisfy my craving for purpose driven life if I leave Christ out.

I'm grateful for the reminder to keep my eyes fully fixed on Christ, to never look away.  Like Peter walking on the water, all my attention must be honed in on the One who enables me to stay above the waves.  I'm thankful for the timeliness of this revelation as I prepare to head back to "real life" in several weeks.  In His strength, these steps can be made by faith. By His grace, these eyes can remain fixed on Him.  

Time is Everything

(These boys let me join in their game of Roll the Hula Hoop)

(Talk about a tear-jerker.)

(According to S, the "man" in the middle is supposed to be me.)

In the Name of Fashion

(Me: Are you a ghost doing school?

B: No. I'm fashion.)

(A teenage water buffalo)

(Sitting on a mango tree, our morning walk destination.)

Speaking Truth

I think we tend to forget how often God uses other people to speak truth into our lives.  A week ago, Pip invited me over for coffee and a chat.  Granted, it ended up being more like an afternoon tea, but it was an appreciated time of fellowship anyway.  It started with friendly conversation, segued into a separate chat with a national lady, and concluded with a poignant exhortation:

"Every time we think 'I am too nervous' or 'I am too scared' or even 'Man, I am good at that' remember, I AM sent me. I have nothing to do with it."

These words reminded me of encouragement I received from a brother in a Christ a few years ago.  "You can either be self-conscious or God-conscious.  You have to pick one or the other."

This is an easy concept, maybe, to grasp with my Big Picture glasses on.  In daily life, it's a different story.  God is constantly growing and changing me, but there are still so many ways in which self-conscious could be my middle name. 

For example, Hala has a large art project that she wanted my help with. Initially, I was all for it when I thought I could convince her that I shouldn't do much aside from providing guidance.  As it became more apparent that I would personally have to put my own art in the open for everyone to see, I grew irritable and defensive.  In short I was self-conscious.

What if they hate my interpretion of a flower? What if I get the colors wrong? What if I screw up? What if I disappoint Hala and her parents with what I produce? What if no one likes it? What if they all realize I'm an artistic fraud?

Eventually, this prayer worked its way through my clenched teeth: "God, I don't know what to do.  Just let this bless them and that will be enough." I don't know if they've been blessed by this art intensive week or not.  All I know is ,once I finally let go and painted as to God, the peace and joy in my heart is boundless. And I actually enjoyed myself.  That isn't the important part, but it certainly didn't hurt either!