Two Barbies

Soap-caked and scraggly the black Barbie and her white Barbie sister lay at the bottom of the dried up tub. Abandoned, and slightly stuck to the inner side where they were less conspicuous, it had been two days since they bounced and swam with force by three year-old hands through the warm bubbly water. I stood staring at them and my eyes burned with the filling of another set of tears. I had scrubbed her chubby body quickly while explaining where she was about to go, that she was leaving us for awhile. She had cried and I cheerfully chatted on about all the fun she would have, first at her Grandma's, then to Mommy's (where she loves to visit anyway).  I told her how spoiled and loved she would be. I was careful not to let a smidgen of my heartache slip through my voice. It would be unfair. She wouldn't understand, it would confuse her, and it wouldn't be fair to her momma who was taking her back. Two Barbies--one black, one white--a symbol of two families united. Now, as they lay in my tub, her absence was even more obvious. I left them there and walked out of the bathroom. 

Prayer is a powerful thing. We knew when we brought little Ashanti into our home two years ago that it would be prayer that would sustain us through the tantrums and sleepless nights. We knew crying out to God would be our only choice when we were faced with big questions. It would be deep and sincere prayers of gratitude that we would utter because this exuberant and adorable girl changed our world and our family for the better. And, now, it will be in prayer that we feel our Father hold us tight as we mourn the everyday loss of her sweet presence. It was prayer that took her from us too. Good prayers. Fasting and petitioning God for His wisdom for what was right for this tiny person. We felt that growing up with her birth-momma would help her to know where she came from, that the woman who brought her into this world loved her and wanted to raise her, that she had a heritage. We knew we had been a good temporary substitute, but we prayed for strength for the day her momma would parent her full-time. And that day came. 

We sat around the table on the deck last night and my husband asked our children how they were feeling about Ashanti leaving. There were honest responses about annoying little preschooler behaviour they wouldn't miss, and then there were the stories. The stories made us laugh and then the voice imitations of her raspy little sounds led to even more hysterics. I reminisced about all the surprising and beautiful things Ashanti's mother taught me about her African culture. We had agreed and we had disagreed on a few things. She had questioned Canadian ways, but we always respected each other. 

Our girl was deemed our "goddaughter" by her mother and we had stood by at Ashanti's dedication to the Lord when she was just a few months old. This was a very important title to her mother, she said, and so, she has promised to share her little girl's future with us. How loving and giving of our God to allow us the privilege of rearing a child for a couple of years and then keeping us connected to her so we can see the profound things He will do in her as she grows. All good answers to prayer, no matter how the emotions wash over in this moment.

Two Barbies still lay in the bathtub. One is black and one is white. Two families are united and God is in the middle of it all. 

Waiting, What Is It Good For?

To fast and pray regularly for a particular friend in my life was not a difficult decision. Watching her suffer through the consequences of a terrible choice was the difficult part. Often when there's nothing left for us tiny people on this earth to do, we surrender all to God. But, what if surrendering first and waiting on His rescue is what will reap sometimes quicker and always longer-lasting results? His results? I struggle to provide my own answers and solve my own problems and when I finally default to prayer, I've made a mess of things. Thankfully, in His mercy, God comes alongside me in my prayer and fasting journey, dusts me off and whispers that He'll take it from here.

That's why this time, I'm witnessing the great out-pouring, the turn-around, the change in this precious friend's life. And I'm excited--and astounded--and humbled.

The waiting isn't so bad when you know the Master of the universe has it under control and that your prayers are aiding in the turning of a lost soul back to Him. Waiting on the Lord is when we take our hands off the wheel and allow Him to do the work in our situation. We "graft ourselves into the Vine" and fast and pray for fallen branches. Sometimes, we're earnestly seeking to get back to that Vine ourselves. Other times, we're being pruned. But the waiting? It's so good in the end! God never disappoints!

Hungering For God

Most days, I fill my belly and I go on without thinking. Well, I do think, but only of myself and my next snack or meal. Comfort is what I desire. Safety. Protection. Blessing. How then, do I ever truly know hunger? Hunger for food, for change, for answers, for God?

Fasting is an act of obedience it's not a popular practice, but Jesus said, "When you fast..." I've studied it's benefits, it's requirements and it wasn't until I actually began the practice that I realized why God invites us to experience Him in this way. I have found that it's only in meeting with the King in such a personal and focused way that we can grasp His will and His heart. Prayers are answered, yes, but it's this deep communion that He knows the invitation holds.

I want to live a fast, that is, to live in a daily communion so that I'm not guilty of the "one day fast" that Jesus talks about in Isaiah 58--one in which we resume our regular living in sin shortly after our fasting. I want to be obsessed with Jesus. I want to show my children a crazy love for a God who demonstrates an amazing love for me. I like how Francis Chan describes it in his book, Crazy Love: "People who are obsessed with Jesus aren't consumed with their personal safety and comfort above all else. Obsessed people care more about God's kingdom coming to this earth than their own lives being shielded from pain or distress".

Hungering for God is the first step toward this communion and also the way in which I hunger for more. It's a beautiful cycle. Deliberate hunger--this fasting thing--along with the benefit of answers to prayer, it draws me closer to Him, and satisfies my famished soul.

Train, Don't Try

As Christians we try, try, try and pray, pray, pray for God to change our situation, our habits, our hearts. Our Pastor shared I Timothy 4:7 with us yesterday and encouraged us to train ourselves to be godly. All the trying in the world will get us nowhere. Which are we feeding, our flesh or our spirit? If we're training ourselves by reading the Word, coupled by fasting and praying, the spirit will begin to win over the flesh and the things we've been so desperate for will one by one become clearly defined, answered by the Lord, or discarded by us.

So many times I've thought I was "waiting on the Lord", but in reality, He was waiting on me to be obedient to His Word first. What a waste of time. Now my prayer is, Lord, am I trying on my own strength, while "desperately praying" to You OR am I training myself to live according to Your will and to know Your ways so that I may clearly see what Your desire is for me. As we sang yesterday, "For it's only in Your will that I am free!" Train yourself to be godly, stop trying.