Category Archives: Wisconsin

Oct14

The Darkness in Our Dreams

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The Darkness in Our Dreams

Rebecca

Over a week ago, we meet some incredible kids (and adults!) who attended Merge on Wednesday night at EUM Church in Racine, Wisconsin . . . and also for all who wanted to be there. :-)

So, Wednesday night we talked about dreams. We talked about ugliness and how God sees us through Christ and the different paths we can walk down. I shared two stories about darkness and light. Two stories about other people.

I’d like to get a little more personal. I’d like to share a story from my own life. Cause, hate to break it to you, but my 29 years haven’t been straight blue skies and sunshine. I’ve seen God allow darkness into my dreams.

Here’s something that happened recently:

A few years ago, I read a story about a missionary who did something amazing. Something impossible. He set out to prove God’s faithfulness. He set out to show the Bride of Christ the power of prayer. And God came through. I’ve read them, story after story after story from this man giving evidence to the unfailingness of God.

I thought that sounded pretty cool. “I want stories,” I told God. “Stories that prove Your word true. Stories I can take to Your Church and say, ‘Here, let me tell you what God’s done for me. Let me tell you how He’s moving today.’ ”

I started praying. Asking God, believing God to pull through for me. Putting myself in a position where, if He didn’t show up, I would be at the very least a fool. I had a dream. I wanted to see Him write His stories into reality so I could share them and bring glory to His name.

Guess what?

He failed. God failed me. The thing I was asking Him, begging Him to do, He didn’t do. He blatantly, crushingly, incomprehensibly didn’t do it. It would have been beautiful. I had the whole chapter written out in my head. It was quite dramatic, let me tell you. Scary, tense, wistful – and this great, heartwarming perfection at the end. I could even hear the triumphant background music playing as the credits rolled.

But God wrote something else.

A big word that I labeled FAILURE.

I yelled. I wanted to cry. I sat at His feet and scowled. I told Him this: “You didn’t come through for me. You were too late, too late to help. I never wanted to write this. If You’re really writing a higher story than the one I thought You were writing – well, are You allowed to fail in Your stories? You have to let me fail. I can’t help it. I’m human. But You – You’re God. You’re supposed to fight for those who can’t fight for themselves. You’re not supposed to fail. Why did You?”

He responded with a question of His own. What do you want more: your stories or My heart?

In other words . . . What am I willing to give up for the sake of staying close to Christ? Will I give up my shopping sprees? My bank account? My extra shoes? My extra time? My home? My comfort? My dreams?

What am I really chasing? Is it my version of a happy ending? A beautiful story? A vision? . . . Or His heart? Am I really chasing His heart? He is a jealous God. If you really – if you really – desire to follow after Him, He won’t let you get away with anything less.

I want to ask you the same question God asked me. What do you want more: your stories or His heart?

Think carefully before you respond to that question. The answer might wreak havoc on your dreams.

Oct10

The Hundred Dollar Bag of Apples

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The Hundred Dollar Bag of Apples

Rebecca

Saturday afternoon we stopped in a little town in Illinois called Poplar Grove.  They have a fun little roadside stand there with all sorts of Fall-ish things.  Delicious apples, fat pumpkins, cute scarecrows, warty gourds.  We were very touristy and pulled out the camera.  We are on our Fall Tour after all.  We also bought a bag of apples.

Who knew buying apples could be so dangerous?

Yesterday morning we woke up and realized that our wallet was missing.  As in I-tore-apart-the-van-and-shook-the-chairs-upside-down-and-I-still-can’t-find-it missing.  With $100 in cash.  Guess where we’d seen it last?

We jumped in our van and drove back to Poplar Grove.

We didn’t talk much on the way there.  I don’t know about everyone else, but I was mostly trying to figure out what sort of frame of mind I needed to be in to convince God that it would be really good if He got us our wallet and our money back.  We are homeless missionaries after all.

Once in Poplar Grove, Lisa jumped out of the van and went to ask about the missing wallet.  I watched her from the van and didn’t see any impromptu gymnastics.  I figured that meant bad news.

Sure enough.  No wallet.

Way to go, God.

I turned the van around and pulled out of the parking lot.  Put the brakes on at the stop sign.  And very nearly ran over a wallet lying in the middle of the road.  Guess whose wallet?

I looked God’s way and sniffed.

We opened the wallet and looked inside.  All the important things – driver’s license, credit card, social security – were all there.  The only thing missing was the hundred dollars.  Apparently, God wasn’t too concerned about us running out of funds.

At this point, we had a quarter tank of gas left, four hours
worth of road to travel, and exactly ten dollars to our name. 

Somehow the math wasn’t quite adding up.  We asked God what He wanted us to do (now that He had us pinned), jumped back in the van, and started driving.  Stopped to invest our ten dollars in fuel and kept going.  We figured we could make it to Chicago.  God was going to have to do something after that.

We were alright with it.  Well, sort of.  But we didn’t have much of a choice, so we were doing our best to look God in the face without glaring.  But the people we were supposed to be meeting with that day were still in the dark.  I started down the list of phone calls.  “Uh, yeah, hi, so about that lunch date . . . Yes, we are on our way right now . . . Um, not sure when we’ll make it . . . Yes, we’re driving.  Yep, straight towards you.  Only . . . well, we don’t have enough gas to get there.”

Third time around on that conversation, I was getting kinda tired of saying it.

That’s when our friend offered to get us gas money.  Well, first he offered to drive three hours to fill our van up.  Then he had a better idea.  Something called MoneyGram.  Yeah, I had never heard of it either.  Basically, it means he used technology, and we got to walk into the grocery store and carry out some money.  Guess how much?

Exactly one hundred dollars.  We hadn’t breathed a single word to him about how much money we’d lost.  You can’t convince me that God doesn’t take care of those who trust in Him.

. . . That’s also the most expensive bag of apples I’ve ever seen.