for the love of the Church.

There we were. Singing praises under thatch roof in the church with no walls. Some were standing because of the lack of chairs, some were singing in English, some in Spanish. Some were white, some were Hispanic. But we were one. We were together and united. When we had arrived earlier that week, we had little idea of how much we would fall in love with those beautiful people that redefined church from a building to a people. We arrived and the Pastor told his church, 'imitate them, as the church imitated Paul.' How weighty a command. Did our lives image what he told his church to do? Were we worthy enough of that calling?
That church did not receive. They gave everything they had. Food, Love and Jesus. We walked home to home in that little community and invited them to our events and sat with them and told them our stories. We played with them and shared Jesus with them. The neighbors came and they made a church. Goodbyes were hard, because although we knew them for the span of a week, we were reunited with our body. We were the same.
Hidden behind a billboard at the intersection on the highway, lied a real and stunning church.

And then I came home.

I got on an airplane and flew the miles and landed in America. I went to church expecting to see the beauty and the love and the community. But all I saw were the lights and cheap decorations.
I went to church hoping to hear encouragement and truth and Gospel, but all I heard was gossip and shallowness. I went and I was disappointed. (DISCLAIMER: please read to the end to know where I'm coming from.)
My heart was broken, for half of it was with the churches I've seen in Nicaragua and the other half for the churches in India, and none of my heart was left for this church here in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.
I saw community. We talked real, we shared our struggles and we didn't leave each other to fend for themselves, we worked through things together while washing our clothes by hand or walking down the windy streets of foreign countries. We faced the tough stuff together. Together we found healing. Together we were one in Christ.
But God's words came clear back in Lancaster.

"Leah, have eyes to see." This command has been many-sided. You've read previous blogs about God giving me eyes to see. I didn't know what else my eyes could see. I have seen so many things. I have seen too many things. I have seen heartache and I have seen joy. I have seen beautifully broken people. I have seen them.
Lord, I have seen enough.
"Leah, have eyes to see."
Today, I saw. In a sudden moment at a church event today, I saw it all. I saw small churches in India with Pastor Shakespeare leading American worship, Indian style and laughter until there were tears. I saw community in a maxicab as we had worship on high and we sang together as one. I saw churches big and small in Nicaragua giving the Gospel away to all. I have seen the church in my small community of YWAM giving love in more ways then I've ever known.
I have seen the church.
"The church is here too." Jesus said.
I'm tempted to say that we lost Jesus in the sounds and the lights. I'm tempted to say we've lost Jesus in our weekly tithes and our long sermons. I'm tempted to say we have lost Jesus in our ritual and our Sundays.

But we haven't lost Jesus.

He is here. I see him as I look around my church with lights and decorations and long sermons. I see a people. I see deep and real people among the fake. I see people who love the Lord so deeply and and are finding Jesus here, in this place. They give themselves, the hurt and broken parts of themselves and they say "here I am Lord." They encourage each other and love each other and fight for each other. The church is here, it's just harder to see. I have to look deeper.
And in my fight with myself to leave the church, I have fallen in love with her. I am the Church. The Church is part of my body.
"For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church, because we are members of his body." (Ephesians 5:29)
How can I hate what is a part of me? If the Church is broken then, I am also at fault. If the Church is not thriving, how can I betray her? We have our flaws, we do not match what I have seen elsewhere. But a wise woman told me today, 'God is sovereign over this church too."
Jesus is still here. He is sovereign over this western church. We have flaws, we get distracted by our sounds and our lights and the best way to share the Gospel, but there is still a real people within the Church. The church is not the building, the Church is not where you go. The church is you. The church is your interaction with your neighbors. The Church is Global. God's character is within the off-beat chaotic churches in India, his character is in the churches run by teachers and principles. His character is in the honesty and vulnerability. His character is in the hidden churches in Communist countries. His character is displayed in the dancing charismatic churches and in the churches with no instruments and services in other languages.
The church is exactly what Christ intended it to be, unique, beautiful and His; an UNIFIED body who LOVES their neighbor, CARES for the poor, DISCIPLES the world. It is not my place to hate her, but to work together with each part of the Body to make her better, to work as one to present ourselves to Christ, blameless and acceptable.

The Church is not perfect, but I suppose that is something that comes with the sinfulness of our human nature. I suppose our imperfections are all different. But we are the Bride of Christ, we are the body of Christ. We are his and he loves us. Why should I act as if I don't belong to the very thing He created me to be apart of? Why should I act as if He does not love the Church?

A Legacy Well Lived

What is a legacy?
What is ninety-one long years of legacy and love and beauty?
What if that life started out as a small-town conservative short Christian girl? What if that small girl fell in love with a good man and they remained married for almost 70 long and beautiful years?
What if he had his own small business and they didn't have a lot of money but they had so much love? What about when they stay in love through the ups and the downs and ninety-one years later that small town girl can look at you and say she doesn't remember a single fight?
Is that a legacy?
When they raise eight amazing children that change the world, is that a legacy? Two of them became missionaries, one is in fulltime ministry, others when onto love their children deeply. Creating a legacy of 33 grandchildren and even more great grandchildren.

A legacy doesn't have to change the world, and we never think of our legacy while we are alive and thriving and creating it under our feet. We don't think of that, no, instead we live vivaciously, love passionately and give beautifully.
We change lives one by one, moment by moment. And the world blinks and somehow it is a little different because of the way some lives just kiss the whole world.

Almost 70 years ago a man named Irvin swept a small town girl named Mabel off her feet and the love of a lifetime was lived. He owned a small business and they made it in this world. Together.
The legacy my grandparents left was one of immense love and one that must be followed after.

When my grandfather died a little over a year ago, I learned just how he changed his little community of Lancaster County. I learned how his one small life impacted so many lives in my giant family.
Over 100 lives, because of their love.

Yesterday, my grandma passed away peacefully in her sleep. How beautiful her reunion must be with her beloved husband now in Heaven.
Death doesn't hurt as much this late in life, we are all so joyfully that she is with her Savior and husband after a long faithful life.
I wonder sometimes, how death sometimes is so gentle in His ways, so giving.
If Death were personified, I think his job must be very hard, coming and stealing and inflicting pain upon unbeknownst hearts.
But times like this, his job must be so tender, to bring faithful people into the arms of their Savior.
So Grandma Miller, Grandpa Miller, we will miss you and our hearts will wait for the day we will be reunited, but enjoy the rest as you are given the full reward of your faithful life.

Thank you.

The Gospel is Revolutionary: Part 1

Fifth grade camp is a myriad of endless questions and repeated answers. It is shared looks with other counselors as you listen to the life-altering dramas of fifth graders. It is silly songs at the top of your lungs around a campfire because I'm 20, but that's what I do.
"Leah, what are we doing next?" "Leah, can I go to the pool during free time?" "Leah, can I go to the bathroom?" Leah, Leah, Leah... to the point where I contemplate changing my name so they can't find me.
But Clarissa's joy and Taylor's smile remind me why I do what I do.
My campers may whine more then any child in the entire universe, but when that child grabs my hand and says to me so quietly, "Leah, I think I know what I want to do when I grow up."
"What's that?" I reply.
She looks up at me with those eyes so desperate for love, but filled with so much trust, and says, "I want to be a missionary."
My heart melts.
Thursday night, as the evening commences and the invitation to know Jesus is looming on the horizon, I pray for my girls. And as I flip through my Bible, I stumble upon the revolutionary passage that blows all the words we've been learning this week out of the water.

1 Corinthians 15:36 What you sow does not come to life unless it dies...What is sown is perishable, what is raised is imperishable. It is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness, it is raised in power.

These seeds that have been sown this week are only valuable if they die. These seeds that tell these children that the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our lord. These seeds I have been planting faithfully about the fruits of the spirit as I desperately pray these girls will learn to love and see how kindness changes all. These seeds won't matter unless they die. Unless these seeds recieve the light of the Son and the Living Water my work here will have been in vain. 

But praise be to God that he will make these seeds alive. His love is deep and great and wide. 

I watched the seeds come to life. 

The counselors head to the side of this perfect outdoor chapel and the pastor speaks to these kids who come from so many different scenarios and backgrounds about a hope that will meet them wherever they have been. 

And 2 of my girls stand up and walk to where I'm standing. Our prayers worked. Two of my campers who have never heard the gospel before ask this Jesus that they've only known for a week into their heart, stepping out in faith that he will meet them exactly where they are. They believe that simple truth that so many of us adults try to weigh down with laws and rules and chains: but God demonstrates his great love for us that while we were still sinners Christ died for us. And that if we believe in our hearts that Jesus is lord and confess with or mouths that God raised us from the dead we will be saved. That's it. 

The simplicity of this gospel is revolutionary. 

With a childlike faith lets embark on this journey together that all we need is a childlike faith that God will meet us right where we are at. He will turn these dead seeds into something beautiful. 

Because the gospel is not what you've heard. 

It is revolutionary. 

i count it all as loss.

The prayer was true and loud and meaningful.
"I give you everything. I surrender all. You can have all of me for what you want me to do and where you want me to go."
The prayer was rich. I had no idea where it would take me, but I meant it with everything inside of me.

But whatever gain I had... My dreams. Money. Friends. Jobs. Family. Everything that makes me, me. Everything that has defined me and drawn me to this moment.
I count as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. I count these things as loss? These things that are so difficult to let go of, I count as loss. These things that in the eyes of the world mean everything, I count as loss. All these dreams I have to go and change the world and travel the nations and love deeply. I count as loss. All this money I have saved and put away, I count as loss. The place itself that taught me to count it all as loss, I count as loss for the sake of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.
For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in Him. 
He has asked of me something that comes as a huge sacrifice; my dream.
For me, it was so easy to lay down everything to go to the mission field. It came naturally, traveling to foreign places, eating disgusting things, unaware of the definition of home. It was natural. It was what I loved. Sitting in trash with orphans, laughing and playing with children who didn't know what love even meant. This was where my heart was at. This is what my heart was made for.
indeed I count everything as loss because of the worth of Jesus.
Do I count these things as loss? It is the biggest loss, the rip between my heart and another. The sacrifice of relationship is huge for me. It leaves gaping wounds and hurts I don't want to confront. Deep and beautiful friendships where our hearts are knit at the soul, how can I let go?
i count as loss for the sake of Christ.
Now, my friends are scattered around the world. The friends I served with, the ones who helped heal my broken heart, the ones I've prayed with and allowed into the depths of my soul. These friends who have walked beside me and showed me my passions and taught me what it means to be free.
These friends, I release.
I read a quote yesterday that perfectly described the missionary life: "your life is more full of hello's, I love you's, and goodbyes than any other life I cant think of right now. It would be easier if it was the first and the last but the I love you's make the last a dagger every time." That was something I was willing to count as loss for the Lord. But now He was asking me to give it to Him for longer than I could see.
For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith, that I may know him and the power of his resurrection and may share his sufferings becoming like him in his death that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.
I count it loss so I may gain Him. Nothing is mine. My dreams do not belong to me, my money is not mine, it is all His. I prayed that prayer where I gave it all to Him. I gave Him my obedience.
And now, the obedience looks like turning away from all I've ever desired. For the moment, turning away from the missionary life. My tiny moment in the missionary life planted passions in me that I cannot run from. It gave me passions for seeing people come alive and for showing people how to heal. I know my passions now. And Jesus, my beautiful Lover, looks at me in all His goodness and asks me a question I am inadequate to answer, "Do you trust me?" It takes me so much longer then it should to answer Him.
Do I trust Him?
Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. 
He has made me His. I press on to make this one fact true: I trust Jesus unconditionally. I press on because He has made me belong to Him. This fact alone leads me to obedience. He loves me so greatly, how can I give him anything less? No matter how long it takes, he can have my whole heart.
I will choose to follow Him anywhere. He has called me to college, which seems to me a place that is exactly opposite of everything I want to be. How can I show people how to come alive? How can I teach people about healing and freedom?
His voice speaks over my worry, "Leah, I am going to continue to make you come alive so you can show others how to come alive."
I understand. Coming alive isn't a once and done action. It is something I will continually get to experience forever. So much life will keep blossoming. I will enter into another season of coming alive so I can better equip others. This season is about to blossom me so I can fully give everything you want me to give.
I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead. I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.
I will forget what lies behind. I will not long for the past and the wondrous works God did back then. I will keep my feet firmly planted in the here and now. I will set my eyes on Jesus and all other things will grow strangely dim. All other things will fall out of my view.

Count the cost, follow Jesus. It's different for us all. For you, it might be sacrificing comfort, money and stability to give so others can go. It might be sacrificing those things so you can go.
It might be overcoming your fear of being seen and being a voice for the voiceless. Maybe you're like me, maybe counting the cost and following Jesus is doing exactly what He wants you to do. Maybe it's leaving the mission field for a while so He can shape you and grow so your work will be more fulfilled. I don't know what it is for you. But I encourage to follow Jesus with every step. He is good and He has every best intention for your heart. He is calling you. Count it all as loss so that you can know Christ Jesus, the One who has made you His own. 

love is stronger.

Jesus was walking to the garden, fully aware of what was to come. Jesus was lamenting and terrified of what was to come. Jesus, our perfect, sinless Savior was about to become broken. He was was swallowed by sorrow and so depressed. The strongest word used for depression was used to describe Jesus' grief. He told his friends, "Watch and pray," and He stumbled towards the place where He was to pray and fell down.
Body-wreaking sobs overcame his body as He looked up to the Heavens and said, "Father, please." The way a child runs to their daddy when they are scared is the way Jesus cried out to God. "If it is possible, If you are able, If you are strong enough, take this cup away from me."
His fear so intense, blood and water flowed from his pores, shaking as He prayed to Heaven, I don't want to do this.
Jesus didn't want to die.
Jesus didn't want to experience the pain.
Jesus was burdened.
Jesus was terrified.
He returned to his friends and they had fallen asleep. "Could you not watch and pray with me for one hour? The spirit is willing and the flesh is weak."
All he was asking was that His friends would support Him and lift Him up to His Father for Him in prayer. He had spent all this time giving to them and He needed just this once for them to give to Him. He was only asking for their devotion.
He returned, so consumed with anguish, he prayed again, "If it is not possible to take this cup from me, then your will be done."
His moments of grief passing too quickly, but His love for the Father passed beyond his agony and He obeyed the Father.
Jesus could have gotten up and walked away from the beatings and whippings and mocking.
He could have disappeared from the scene leaving all the guards questioning and confused.
Jesus had the power to do that. But His love conquered.
Hanging on the cross, skin torn off, flesh exposed to the unrelenting sun, He stayed for us. He sojourned through a hard life for us. For you. For me.

My car just broke down. In the past month it has slowly gone on a downward spiral. While driving home from camp it became very evident that I could no longer drive it without a fix. And the mechanic gave me some very concerning news. The fix will be 1000$ upward, which is a price my car is not even worth. So I'm looking at buying a new car that would preferably get through my college years.
And for the last couple of days, I have been so stressed. Thinking about my upcoming tuition bills and car payments and working my way through school and my current joblessness has scared me.
And I haven't necessarily been trusting the Lord with it. Being in YWAM for a year, I've heard the crazy 'God providing financially' stories. I've experienced a few myself. Coming home though, I guess I believed God wouldn't follow me financially. He's called me to college, but I just assumed I would have to work my butt off to stay out of debt and get through school.
And a few weeks ago someone at camp said, "Jesus didn't want to go to the cross, but He did for you."
And of course I knew that Jesus didn't want to go to the cross, who would actually want that? It hit me in a new way though.  He went out of love for me, and what He wanted was me.
If Jesus agonized over going to the cross obeyed God because of His deep love for us went to the cross then how on earth can I doubt that He would come through for me with something so small like finances?
Doubting His ability and power to come through is doubting His love. It is believing lies about God that separate His heart from mine.
He says, "Leah, trust me. I know it's scary, I know it's overwhelming. I know you like to be in control. Give it to me. Trust me."

He says,
What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"
Luke 10:11-13

How much more will He provide for us. How much more will He give us Himself when we ask.

And God is able to make all grace abound to you so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.
2 Corinthians 9:8

As we walk in obedience to God, He will provide all things we need. His grace is sufficient, He will not leave us stranded, His love for us is greater than anything we know. Ask for Him and you will receive Him. Ask for what you need and He will be faithful to come through. Whether you are a missionary in a foreign country and you can't even say His name, or you're waiting by the mailbox day after day praying it will be good news instead of another bill, or you are going into college and your car breaks down. He will provide when you walk in obedience to His will.
His love is stronger. His grace will abound. He is faithful.

running.

If she ran away, life would be so much simpler.
If she ran away, she thought, how beautiful it would be to have nothing but her car keys and a bottle of water and be forever gone.
No phone, no camera, no people. Nothing besides the clothes on her back and an old pair of flipflops.
Real, painful thoughts of running away invaded her mind.
She could start over. The movies always portray it. The girl so recklessly abandons her meaningless life and discovers life and beauty and meaning.
She could be that girl.
Everything in her desired something else. She wanted so much to be rid all the things the pulled her down. The obligations, the fears, the annoyances, the people. She needed freedom more than all the people around her could understand.

Gently the spirit reminded her of what she would lose if she ran away. These deep relationships that blossomed in the fruit of life would be gone. These seeds she had been planting trampled. The obedience to her Savior ignored.

The things she would lose were greater than the things she would gain if she ran away.

Her heart desired to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but in this place where she could physically no longer keep on fighting. But while everything in her screamed, "Run Away!"
The Voice of God was stronger. "Run to me, my love, Run to me."

I am Martha. A whirlwind of tasks and lists and ideas. Idosomanythings. Ineverquitestop. Ican'tbreathe.
I demand to the Lord, "Don't you see me? Do you even care?"
He is so stunning with His words, looking at me with His kind eyes, He never rebukes my tasks,only calming the storms within me.
"Martha," he spoke silence in my heart. "Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary, Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her."
So anxious. So troubled. How can only one thing be important? Can sitting in the presence of Jesus really and truly be the only thing I need? Is that really the only peace my heart needs right now?
How can this be?

Jesus' command to Martha was never to stop serving. His heart just wanted hers to be at peace. He wanted her to be able to revel in His beauty and worship Him.
Mary worshiped by lavishing her love on him. Martha would eventually learn to worship with her serving. Will I ever learn this lesson?
When my workings go unnoticed will I respond with grace and gratitude instead of complaining and lamenting?

I've chosen the good portion. His name is Jesus. He only asks for my heart. Never my workings. Never my restlessness. He has come to give us rest.
We run so fast and so far in the opposite direction of where Jesus wants us to be: right in his arms.
We leave, fearful He will look down and see we haven't done enough; or worse, He won't notice at all.

He says instead, "Come to me, Run into my arms. I see, I know. Your work will be rewarded."
Our weary hearts rejoice because with each beat we despair, "I'm. So. Tired. Of. Running."
And He envelopes us in His perfect embrace and says, "Come to me, my weary and restless child. My yoke is easy and my burden is light."
I don't need to run anywhere but into my Savior's embrace which will hold me close forever.
In His love I know this will one day be worth it. In His eyes, I see something beyond here, I see the Kingdom of God and it's beautiful. I'm running to Him.

gratitude.

As if I somehow deserved more than I have already been given,
As though the immense grace that drowns me in oceans I'll never learn to swim in
and as if being saved from a life of never knowing the most perfect being wasn't enough,
I moan.
I whine like a selfish child who doesn't want to share my toy.
How could I be so blind?
My voice cries out in a sea of other lost and broken ones, "Why, oh Lord, why?
Have you forgotten a heart? Have you somehow turned your all-seeing eye away from me?
You do not care."
How blasphemous my words seem.
My eyes drift from the encapsulating beauty of you, the one who shines like rainbows with emeralds and rubies and diamonds and I see the awful darkness. I slip and find myself in the muck of self-pity and the confining chains of complaining.
For whatever reason I make assumptions that despite the already beautiful life you've given me, you are obliged to give me more.
I turn from seeing you as my perfect Lord to seeing you as my fairy godfather, one who will grant every wish my heart could ever desire.

Your words, sharper then any two edged sword has cut me like a knife.
"Blessed are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
the merciful, the pure in heart and the peacemakers. Blessed are the persecuted."

Blessed are you in this place right where you are.
Blessed are you whose spirit has been reduced to a lowly beggar's knees.
Blessed are you who weep over losses that are too giant for you to grasp.
Blessed are you who are gentle, who has turned away from looking to yourself and chosen to trust in God's goodness instead.
Blessed are you who desire to be right before God more than food and drink, for you shall be satisfied.
Blessed are you who give mercy even when others don't return it.
Blessed are the pure and the peacemakers.
Blessed are you.


So different then what the world is telling me. The lies this world is screaming is that I am not blessed. It points a finger straight at the places I think I deserve more and says, "You are right!
Don't you see? This is injustice!" The world tells me of how I give so much and receive so little. It shows me how I'll have to work harder to get through school then some.
It shows me the loss has torn deep holes in my heart.
And it looks with scorning eyes and says, "How can you believe that you are blessed?"

God's voice is clear, ringing true above the words of the enemy.
"Blessed are you because yours is the kingdom of heaven. You shall be comforted. You shall inherit the earth. You shall be satisfied. You will see God, you are sons of God. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven."

When I take my eyes off of my circumstance, I can see clearly.
The way I slave over things on this earth will not be rewarded here. The things that truly matter will be rewarded by God himself.
He sees. He knows.
We can choose gratitude now in the midst of fear and darkness, sadness and depression, confusion and the unknown.
We can walk in thanksgiving for the things God has already done for us.
He has already given us everything we need. If He only gave me breath in my lungs that would be enough. But can't you see? He's given so much more. Salvation, Redemption, Freedom, Life, Joy.
He has given me himself.
I deserve nothing. And yet, He has given me everything.