Be Brave...

Of all the most beloved scriptures in the bible, none is more recognized than the first line of the 23^rd

Psalm.  “The Lord is my Shepard, I shall not want.”  This line has been uttered from fox holes in

bloody war battles, from ambulance stretchers, from jail cells, from school buildings, from lonely

beds, and hands holding empty checkbooks.  I love this line of scripture, but further in this Psalm is

a line that hovers over fear.  It taunts, and dares fear to rear its head.

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.”(vs. 5)

I used to think enemies were political fights between countries, but now I realize it’s more personal.  We face enemies each moment we breathe.  The noise we hear in our head that tells us we can’t change; we won’t grow; we will fail.  The thieving stabs Satan thrashes to bloody our families, relationships, dreams, and health.  The lost hope of addiction, procrastination, abuse, and dull neglect.  These are enemies of the worst kind.  Enemies that torture with a low grade temperature that spirals to heat rash. 

The power of this verse lies in the fact that God Himself leads us to a dressed table.  He pulls out the seat and places an embroidered napkin into our laps as He pushes the chair in.  He lights exquisite candles that cast a mellow glow over the table as the polished silver begs to be placed between our fingers.  A plate sits before us, clean and unsoiled, like the spirit within us refreshed by the cross. 

Calm and sure, God sets this table while the screams of our enemies blare. Smack in the heat of the hiss and snarl; right in the center of the terror; He sets a table for us.  He isn’t shaken.  He’s the essence of peace. 

One of the first times I shared this concept I had about 165 ladies stand up and walk to the back of the room where I was teaching.  I asked for a volunteer that I gently led to a seat at a table while everyone circled around.  The table was draped with a soft green cloth and etched glass candlesticks.   Strings of clear beads sparkled like jewels in a crown as I silently lit the candles and placed the cloth napkin in her lap.  As we looked at the beauty of the table, I reminded the ladies that this is what God beckons us to. We joined hands and bowed our heads together to soak up that moment and pray.  As women began to pray I could hear the soft rain of tears.  Our prayers began as hushed praises, and grew to bold pronouncements of God’s goodness.  One woman prayed for her wayward daughter while another moaned over the loss of a son.  Another woman shouted that she would no longer fear the co-workers that spoke poorly of her, while another broke into a verse of Amazing Grace that we sang sweetly together.  All of a sudden I realized that there were not only gentle tears being shed, but heaving sobs.  It was as if the Holy Spirit washed over that scene with a cloth so authentic it couldn’t be mistaken for anything but glory. 

In the week that followed I received dozens of comments: “I’ve never felt the Lord like that!”  “His presence was oozing from the walls.”  “What a time of healing and grace.” Proof that even though our enemies are in the midst, they aren’t invited to sit at the table.  God’s reserved that spot for you. 

I once heard Dr. Larry Crabb say that though we are invited to sup with the King, we often crawl under the banquet table and beg for crumbs like dogs.   Not in this scene.  We are seated at the table and God is our waiter.  He’s died to serve us.

Why does this demand bravery?  Isn’t God the brave one to set our table in the midst of enemies?  What’s brave about simply sitting down?

 Bravery sits with valor.  Though our hands and feet feel like running , we sit at the table, posture straight, and let God prepare.  We aren’t setting the table ourselves, we aren’t crawling around under it, and we aren’t cowering in another room.  We gallantly rest in the chair and let God prepare the table we are meant to dine at. 

Won't you dine with me sweet friends?

Blessings!

Gari

(This is an exerpt from my upcoming book Spirit Hunger released in early October)

Flower

Written by: Jessica Russo

Co-blogger for Truly Fed Ministries
Arriving back from vacation and I didn’t waste any time getting into the swing of things. It is VBS week at Second Baptist Church in Houston, TX and what an exciting time it is. Last year I assisted in a third grade classroom but this year the coordinators assigned me a teacher role in Kindergarten. I must admit I was not jumping for joy with this assignment because this is probably my least favorite age group but I figured God was trying to teach me something so I entered the classroom with a joyful heart ready to see what God had in store for all of us this week.

As the children filed in the room and chaos ensued, a little girl was hesitant to leave her mom and join our class. She was silent when I asked her name and just shook her head no. “Would you like to be called something else?” I asked, “I will call you whatever you want.” She looked up almost in tears and whispered “Flower.” We wrote Flower on her nametag and she reluctantly walked over and sat at our class table.

Our Bible lesson the first day was on Gideon and how God wants to use all of us. When we got back to the classroom we reviewed the lesson and I asked questions. When it was Flower’s turn for a question I asked her how God could use her and she replied “God talks to me.” This was a strange answer so I asked another question for clarity “How does God talk to you?” I asked. She pointed around the room at each teacher and said “Through her, and her, and her.”

Now ladies let me tell you that was a defining moment for me in that classroom. My role there was not to herd these little chickens from room to room and feed them a snack once a day; my job was to show them Jesus through me. They were looking for it, expecting it, and fully deserving of it.

When Flower proclaimed that God speaks to her through the older generations it provoked a new train of thought for me. 2 Timothy 3:16-17 tells us that God speaks to us through scripture and Romans 12:2 tells us God speaks to us through our thoughts and impressions. A child that cannot read and has not developed mature thought processing must totally rely on their elders to guide, guard, and direct them spiritually. That’s not a task to be taken lightly for me.

Proverbs 22:6 Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.

This has me questioning if God is speaking through me to my children and are there times the devil speaks through me. All the times I think ‘do as I say, not as I do’ is this evil speaking through me? Am I imitating the Lord in all that I say and do to the extent that He is speaking through me? What are my own children seeing in me? It is amazing that I have spent my entire life studying God’s word and growing as a Christian and a five-year-old can plant something so deep in my heart that it completely changes my awareness.

God planted little Flower in my classroom to teach me each child needs that ray of light He shines through us and each child needs living water that flows from the heart of believers. With this, all His little flowers can grow, bloom, and spread the beauty of God.

Matthew 5:16
Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.

Blessings,
Jessica

Bread Please?

I've just returned from a breathtaking trip to Uganda.  Although I've been there before, I still came home in a bewildered state.  I was bewildered by how I so easily forget that 99% of the world doesn't live like I do.  I was bewildered when I looked at buffets, clean clothes, and toilets that flush.  But quickly my bewildered rag of emotion turned to a smooth linen of joy.  Something in me began to well up as I reflected on the days I spent traversing the remotest parts of the earth.  Every ounce of comfort; every scrap of routine or predictability was yanked from my control loving mind.  We were on a quest to the core of humanity.  The place where the God of heaven meets the desperate on Earth. 

The trip started out a bit rough as my team arrived at Bush International Airport in Houston.  As we quickly unloaded our luggage my heart sank as I realized my backpack, (stocked with my passport and money) was accidentally left on the front porch of my home 45 minutes away.  With 3 members of our team crying, I sent them off, assuring them I would join them the next day.  It takes 2 days to get to Uganda, so I would miss our first day at the orphanage--but I was encouraged that I wouldn't miss any of the time I was expected to speak at The Miracle Crusade.  I boasted to our team "If this is the worst Satan can heap on us...Bring it!"  Oh my...was I in for a wild ride...

The delay proved to be a blessing as I spent the better part of the next 48 hours ingesting the Bible. I was ready.  Prepared. Expectant.  Our plan was to spend the first 3 days of the trip at Musana orphanage.  I was going to speak at their church on Sunday, and lead a Bible study that night for the adults that work there.  When I woke that morning I was in a hurry to get ready.  I noticed some marks on my face, but it wasn't until late afternoon that I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror.  I was bitten by a spider 21 times on my face during the night.  I looked like someone took a bright red marker and drew all over my face.  I hate spiders! And the thought of one marching across my face about made me sick.  Somehow I knew I was living out my challenge to Satan.  "Bring it!" was now starting to hurt a bit...

Our next stop was to travel to a remote village where the crusade was being held.  When I say remote, I mean off the maps, dirt road, traveling for hours in the dark to a place we aren't even sure exists.  I kept encouraging the team "Faith not fear..." as we finally stepped out of our dusty van.  We crawled to our beds knowing that the conference began in the morning, but as I lay in bed that night I started to feel the familiar greeting of an unwelcome intruder.  Violent diarrhea and stomach pain kept me awake all night as I ran to the toilet every 15 minutes.  As dawn approached I knew I had to make a decision.  If I had been at home, I probably would have been in Urgent Care I was so dehydrated, but I decided to trust God to somehow get me through the day. 

We pulled up to an old railway grounds where the conference was taking place.  Hundreds and hundreds of people were gathered; some sitting ,some standing, and some trying to get a glimpse from afar. Faces like caramel smiled with yellowed teeth, they hugged us and welcomed us to their village.   I taught from the Bible 3 times that day, and at one point needed to be held up by one of the women on our team. I was so weak--but I knew we were part of the canvas that God was painting over that place for a few magical days. 

Every time we would get to a part of the bible where God had a victory the people would wildly shout "Amen! Amen!" They danced to the music and jumped in praise.  Young kids were perched on a mountainside that sat next to the stage, families seemed to pop out of the cornfields in the distance.  I wondered if this was how Jesus felt when he preached to the multitudes. 

At times I questioned how I would communicate to these gorgeous people.  With so many different languages being spoke between them, I wondered if they understood me at all.  And then God imparted a message to me.  He simply said "power is perfected in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12)  I realized that it made no difference whether they understood my language.  It didn't matter that I come from such different life-experiences.  What matters is that we all need the bread of life, and He was feeding us all in ways we'd never capture with words. 

The picture I placed at the top of this blog was taken on the streets of Jinga in Uganda.  A pack of about 7 young boys, obviously homeless and hungry, were making their way down a busy street.  I watched as people ignored them or looked at them with skeptic mistrust.  When they came to me they started with a "tourist" act to make me feel bad for them.  They didn't have to because I already felt bad for them.  I simply asked "What do you need?"  One of the older boys whispered "We need bread."
I gave them enough money to buy several loaves, but wanted to make sure that's what they were buying, so I followed them to a small market.  You've never seen such elation over loaves of bread.  They jumped, they hugged, and they embraced me with sweet thanks.  I shook my head in humility as I uttered to the Lord "Isn't that what we all need?  The bread of life?  Aren't we all in need of it?" 

I learned more lessons in Africa than I taught. 
I'm desperate for His bread, and will never forget the "Amens!"  of my African friends who are desperate right along with me.

Blessings!
Gari

God's Art Gallery

Written by: Jessica Russo

Co-blogger for Truly Fed Ministries

This week I am writing you from the base of a California redwood tree the size of my first apartment. Lying against this tree with my bare feet sharing its soil, I feel like a tiny spec in such an enormous creation. We are on day 27 of our journey. The boys have grown comfortable in the wild as I knew they would. What they once feared, they now embrace. What once felt like solitude, now feels connected. What once seemed dangerous, now has become our refuge. 

We have crossed paths with grizzly bears, seen wild swans, listened to birds in the rainforest screeching so loud we held our ears. 

There is something in my spirit that needed to leave everything man-made and take my boys on a journey they will not soon forget. I am not sure what I was seeking but I am positive I found it. 

Job 12:7-9 - But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds of the air, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish of the sea inform you.  Which of all these does not know that the hand of the LORD has done this?

Although I see God working in people everyday it is much different to find Him working in all of His creation. I feel like we have been on a tour of one tiny wing of His enormous art gallery. This is where we found him working:

In the sunflower fields of Texas where the flowers never take their eyes off of the light He provides them. 

In the eagle soaring over the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado carrying a twig for sping upgrades to the nest. 

In the canyons of New Mexico that are so red the sunlight bouncing off seem to set them on fire. 

In the winds whipping fiercely across the Wyoming rangeland as the prairie dogs scurry underground for safety. 

In the skies of Montana that reach farther than the eye can see or the soul can grasp. 

In the glacier lakes of Alberta, Canada that are the most brilliant hue of turquoise that they look artificial. 

In the waterfalls in British Columbia that burst right out of the side of the mountains and seem to fall for miles. 

In the mossy trees and 5 foot ferns of the Washington rainforests that feel like you have stepped into a nursery ryme storybook. 

In the waves crashing against giant rocks jetting out of the pacific ocean on the Oregon coast. 

In the redwood that I am sitting under right now. Yes, God is working here too. 

Every climate, every animal, and every plant works in a cyclical dance carefully created and orchestrated by Him. 

It is more than we can comprehend. We were not created to fully comprehend it. What we can do is give him all glory and praise saying "My God How Great Thou Art." 

Blessings,
Jessica

Surprises!

It takes a lot to shock me.  I rarely feel the need to gasp and shake my head in disbelief.  But something happened a few days ago that literally took my breath away. 

It was Father's Day, and Bobby and I were both going a million directions.  Traveling, working, writing, baseball...a wonderful puzzle we gratefully try to put together each day.  Bobby got home from a road trip late in the evening, and we decided to head over to our daughter Ally's house so Bobby could give our grand baby Reese a big hug before she went to bed. 

Our son Colton came with us, and even though he seemed a bit jumpy I didn't pay much attention.  We were smothered with hugs and wet kisses from Reese, and after about 20 minutes we started to say our goodbyes since it was late.  Ally strangely asked if Bobby could take a look at one of their landscaping lights that supposedly wasn't working, and could only be seen in the dark.  So with Reese in my arms, the whole family headed to the driveway to check out the problem. 
I was looking at all the pretty lights on the yard when suddenly something flashed in front of me. The headlights of a big black truck with a red bow on the hood! 

I started screaming "What?" "What?"  I couldn't get another word out.  All I could say was "What!"
Bobby's face in that moment was priceless.  Each wrinkle in his smile reflected a 30 year longing for a truck.  Since the first week we were married he's talked about buying one, but life's unexpected demands and needs have always stood in the way.  On this night, three decades of desire turned into reality for a man that typically places priority on everyone else's wants, not his own. 

It was a rare moment of surprise. A delight that swells in your spirit like fireflies let loose from a jar.  You try to grab hold of them, but they swirl around you, lighting up a dark sky with a spark of abandoned pleasure.  Even if you tried to put that delight back in a jar, it couldn't contain it.

This wonderful gift has me wondering something about God.  What surprises Him about us?  Are there moments when He is so excited about us that His smile rips a hole right through heaven? 
I've pondered this for the past few days, and one scene keeps coming to mind. 
Remember when Jesus sent the disciples away in a boat after a long day of helping people?  Jesus stayed back to send the crowd off and spend some much needed time alone with His Father in prayer; while the disciples pushed out into the depths of the Sea of Galilee. The water got rough as a storm tossed the boat around; sometimes yielding waves as high as 10 feet high towering over their small wooden fishing boat.  Somewhere between 3:00-6:00 am Jesus began to walk towards the shaken boat--on top of the water!  The disciples had been tossed around for upwards of nine hours and probably thought they were losing their minds when they saw Him sauntering over the waves...but here's where the surprise comes in. Peter shouts out to Jesus "Lord, if it's really you, tell me to come to you on the water." 

In that moment I believe Jesus was surprised.
Complete trust.  Sheer abandon.  Delight that sang from the whistle of the wind and the waves undertow.
"Come on!" He shouted back.  And Peter put his feet in the water. 

So often people focus on the fact that Peter doubted once he was on the water, but I believe that view completely misses the point.  He surprised Jesus with his guts.  He wanted to be brave for Jesus in a display of confidence in the man he called Savior... I think that's the point.

So the last few days as I drive around in Bobby's truck, I keep whispering to the Lord, "I want to surprise You.  I want You to smile as I bravely come to You regardless of my fear or circumstance."

As long as I live I'll never forget the look on Bobby's face as he realized this surprise was meant for him.  He hasn't stopped smiling!  I want to give God the gift of surprise, and even though it may not have a big red bow on it, it will be wrapped in sweet affection and trust that hopefully brings a smile to heaven.

Blessings!
Gari

Geysers or Mud Pots

Written by: Jessica Russo

Co-blogger for Truly Fed Ministries
 
Over the past week and a half my two boys, my mother, and I have been on the road. With big plans and a not-so-big camper behind us. We started in Houston, TX and I am currently sitting in Glacier National Park (Montana) with my toes 4 inches from a campfire trying to over-compensate for my ill-prepared wardrobe I packed in the 98 degree Houston heat. It's been 13 days of gorgeous landscapes that can only flow from the paintbrush of our awesome God. There are still two and a half weeks left on our trip as we move into Canada tomorrow and head back down along the West Coast. Since we have only just begun I will not go into all the things we have seen and done until my next blog. 

We spent several days at Yellowstone National Park. I was amazed by the landscapes and thermal activity there from geysers to boiling, stinky mud to gorgeous waterfalls. The land was so peaceful and beautiful that you would never know the instability and turmoil going on under the surface. 

A geyser will sit silent building up pressure until it erupts and spews water over everything in range of it. We decided this represented me very well. I stay calm and silent until I can't stand it any longer then I spew venom over whoever is in range. I must give myself a little credit I have gotten much better with this but nonetheless this is how I cope with things. 

A mud pot is a constant release of gas that appears to make the hot mud boil as it comes to the surface. We decided this was my husband Chip. Not because of the gas aspect but just the fact that he deals with and releases issues as they arise. Pressure does not buildup so there is no large display or release. It is a constant, much more moderate way to approach issues. 

A wild fire is a common occurrence in yellowstone in fact the pine tree that grows there is dependent on the wild fires to re-seed. The tree Produces a pine cone that only a fire can penetrate but once it is burned it will break open and re-seed. So not only are the wild fires common, they are necessary for new growth. We decided the wild fire was our oldest son. His fire burns voraciously only controlled by the winds of his anxieties. But when it burns out something new has taken growth, something new is learned, and something new is felt. 

A waterfall is body of water that is sent on a path that causes it to change direction, lose control, or take a leap of faith. This is my youngest boy. If his path flowed to that cliff and he knew the only way to get back on track was to follow that fall he would not think twice before he took that leap of faith with wild abandon.  Although at times a slight change of direction might solve the problem more appropriately. 

God created us all to perform and deal in ways unique to us.  He chose many different personalities, complete with their own faults, to be his Disciples.  We are not created perfect rather we are asked to do our best. 

2 Timothy 2:15 Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth.

Whether a Geyser or a mud pot, a wild fire, or a waterfall we were each created differently with our own purpose and our own methods and pathways to fulfill that purpose. I look forward to writing my next blog where I will be able to share with you all the highlights of my trip. 

Blessings,  Jessica

Whatever...

"Dear Friends, God is good.  So I beg you to offer your bodies to Him as a living sacrifice, pure and pleasing.  That's the most sensible way to serve God.  Don't be like the people of this world, but let God change the way you think.  Then you will know how to do everything that is good and pleasing to Him."    (Romans 12: 1-2)

I've been sitting and staring at my lap top for over a half hour.  It's blog day and my mind is going ten directions but not at the speed of light.  More like the speed of laundry drying outside on a muggy day.  The only word that keeps popping into my muggy mind is the word "whatever"...
Not very spiritual sounding at first glance; it actually sounds more like what teenagers say when you tell them to make their beds.  But in God's vocabulary the word whatever is the hallmark of utmost maturity.  Only those that have given their lives over to His holy touch can utter this word with complete abandon. 
Whatever isn't a sign of lazy indifference, it's a sign of release and trust.  When we say whatever to God we are stating "You're in charge--I'm not.  You're the point--I'm not."  What freedom the word whatever brings!

Recently I had a whatever moment that makes me feel a bit shaky as I've watched it play out.  The picture above shows me dancing with orphans at Musana Orphanage in Uganda.  I was there two years ago leading a teacher's in-service on reading comprehension, but in all honesty, saying yes to that trip wasn't easy.  My doctor begged me not go, fearing my immune system wasn't strong enough to handle the immunizations needed to travel there.  To further complicate things, we moved from Colorado to Houston just days before I flew to Africa.  It was a flurry of boxes, sweat, and prayerful whatevers that pushed me onto that plane, resulting in a glorious time of holy release.

Sitting in a cafe overlooking the dusty main road where the orphanage was, I met with a local pastor named Nicholas for lunch .  He knew my background in ministry, and shared something that nearly broke my heart.  He said "Gari, we have thousands of women who would come to hear you speak God's Word.  They are willing, but we have no women teachers to lead them."
I wish I could say I instantly jumped on that opportunity.  It was the end of a long, hard trip and I was tired, broke, and ready to see my family.  I was polite, but wondered if I'd ever see him again.   So here comes my big whatever moment...

This fall I began to pray about Uganda.  Was I supposed to go back?  I was in the middle of my first big book contract, writing my head off, teaching like crazy, and preparing for another year of insane travel with my husband's beloved Houston Astros... but suddenly the word whatever began to circle a the rim of my spirit.  One day I literally said to the Lord "This is the day.  I need you to either close the door or open it, because if I'm going back to Uganda, it needs to be clear." 
A half an hour later I opened my messages on my phone and there sat a message from Pastor Nicholas.  He simply wrote "Have you forgotten your friends in Africa?" 
Nothing like getting your prayers answered so clearly...

So in 14 days I head back to Africa to speak at a conference that has already grown beyond capacity.  As a matter of fact, they've had to change the venue because they know the crowds will be too big.  The local pastor's have met and decided to open the conference to both men and women, and they've named the event the Miracle Crusade.

 I know the real miracle occurs when we simply say whatever--and you don't have to go to Africa for that to happen.  Whenever you choose someone else's needs before your own, you say whatever.  Whenever you choose to trust God instead of settling into panic, you say whatever.  Whenever you dare to hope for good rather than tolerating evil, you say whatever. 

Whatever is what Mary uttered when Gabriel told her she'd birth a Savior.  Whatever is what Moses said when he led a nation out of captivity, and whatever is what Jesus brilliantly uttered from the cross. 

So here's my question to you:  What's your whatever?  I'd love to hear about it sweet friends. Let's keep saying it together; daily, hourly, minute by minute...whatever.  Watch God take your whatevers and turn them into forevers.

Blessings!
Gari