Wacky Christian

     How would you describe yourself in two words? I have been officially dubbed "wacky Christian", and I love it. Recently, I stumbled through a conversation with an individual about the similarities and differences between various religions. Bound by the social niceties of polite dinner conversation, I listened attentively, offered a few comments, but never really touched a nerve, the kind of questions that burn inside me, aching to get out.
     How do you know what God is like, really? Why did God make you? Do you know where you will go when you die? Who is Jesus Christ, and what impact should He have on you? I can think of nothing more important than knowing the answers to these questions. Better late than never, I want to spill over now with the passion that drives me, how God answered these questions in my life, and why I will never be the same.
     My childhood was saturated in God talk. God sees you. God loves you. God sent His Son to die for you. All of these statements had Bible verses around them, and I memorized them and got my little Sunday school awards for doing so. To me, these were facts just as much as the earth is round and the stove will burn you. Although I accepted these words as true, they didn't make a whole lot of difference in my existence. The older I became, the more my parents and Sunday school teachers emphasized that sin was displeasing God, and I was a sinner. Knowing my propensity for screaming at bedtime, sitting on my brother, and sassing off to my mother, I wasn't inclined to argue the point. So what? I quickly learned that my sin had consequences, painful at times, yet my reputation as a cheeky, repeat offender clearly demonstrated that I had no concept of repentance, or turning from my sin.
    One Christmas season, my mother, a diligent soprano in the church choir, wore out the audio soundtrack for the upcoming Christmas cantata. Although she was learning the song lyrics, I was learning the story of God's plan for my life. As I listened to this tape, it finally clicked that God made me, the sassy, pain-in-the-neck kid, loved me, even more than my earthly parents, and that I hurt Him every time I disobeyed what He wanted me to do. For the first time, my mind wrapped around the fact that my sin deserved more than a swat on the bottom; it deserved eternal judgment in hell. To me the coolest realization was that God didn't want that for me, anymore than I wanted it for myself. He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, the perfect God-man to live a perfect life, doing all the things right that I always messed up. To my horror, it hit me that this perfect man, the one that everyone should have loved, was condemned to die a bloody death on a cross, because of me. True, I had heard these words many times, but God chose to impress on my heart that Christ died for my sin, and I had a decision to make.
   Would I trust that His punishment was enough, and that I was offered a free gift of forgiveness, or would I try to live a good life and make it on my own? Didn't have to think about that one too long-I knew what I could do, and perfection was definitely not an option. Did I get the whole Bible? Nope. Did I immediately become a saint? Just ask my brother. Did Christ clean me up, replace my sin with forgiveness, assurance of a home in heaven, and a burning desire to know my God? Definitely yes.
    Accepting Christ was only the first step, as this baby Christian learned to walk. I knew I needed to read all about God in the Bible and figure out what He liked and how I was supposed to live. Did I get my act all together and do everything right? Hardly. Do I know with 100% clarity that the second I take my last breath, I will be in heaven with Him? Yep. Do I know that my God created everything about me, loves me completely, absolutely, adopted me into His family, and has a plan to use me? For sure. Does knowing Jesus Christ change how I live, think, act? Well, yeah. Knowing Him, following Him is all that matters in my life.
    So, am I a wacky Christian? You betcha.

Moving to Guam

    You're moving where?!? What on earth would you want to do that for? You'll be gone for HOW LONG? Is your family ok with this? Questions like these fire rapidly as soon as I drop the bombshell that I am moving to Guam this July. This decision has been preempted by months of praying, hours of conversations with family and trusted friends, and not a few tears, yet how do I explain all this to the individual waiting with an incredulous and expectant gaze? I write this hoping that my written response may be slightly more coherent and comprehensive than the one-liners that I have been pitching out.
    This last year has been one of turmoil and difficult change. One of the more difficult decisions was to leave the school where I taught for the last five years. God graciously provided me with another place of employment, after the school year had already begun, yet I knew that this assignment would only be temporary. Throughout this move and other changes in my life, God has been working in my heart to let go of anything that I have been clinging to for security and to hope in Christ alone. I wish I could say the letting go has always been easy, but God has had to pry my fingers off in more than a few areas. As God been cleaning up my life and whacking off areas that just needed to go, He has left me with the settled conviction that He would soon be asking more of me, and that I needed to be ready for something that would be way over my head.
     In January I reconnected over facebook with a friend that I had not seen since college, over eight years ago. When I learned that she had been teaching in Guam, I began to think about and pray about the possibility of teaching in Guam. Mission work has been a prayer of mine, since I surrendered my life to Christ at eleven years of age, but up until now the timing and circumstances have never been right. My friend in Guam was so gracious to answer pages of questions as I began to seriously consider this move. The more I learned, the more interested I became, and I began to pray that God would start slamming doors, rather loudly so I wouldn't miss it, if this was not of Him. After completing an online application, the principals contacted me about meeting with a couple that just so happened to be in my area in the next few days. After interviewing with them, I was even more convinced that this was the place that God would have me to serve next.
    In the midst of the interviewing and waiting process, God has been so gracious to work in the hearts of my parents and friends, and I have received an overwhelming voice of support for this move. Although I know there will be moments of doubt, uncertainty, fear, and loneliness, I am thoroughly convinced that God is asking me to step out in a new phase of trust. Greater than any element of fear is the absolute certainty that God's presence will be with me, His love will sustain me, and I am going to experience a greater display of His power and goodness than ever before. I am excited for the journey that I am about to begin, and I am clinging to a favorite passage of mine in Psalm 73. "Whom have I in heaven but you, and there is nothing, no one, that I desire upon earth besides You...My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever...But as for me, the nearness of my God has been my good."
    So, why am I moving  to a country where I know no one, signing a contract for three years to teach 3rd grade in a mission school? I'm going because I believe that's what God has planned for me, and I want nothing more than to follow Him, clinging to Christ alone.