Broken Alabaster Boxes

The music throbs as they pass tonight. The road is unusually busy. Especially for a country that has recently implemented a lockdown from 8 PM to 5 AM. The current traffic shows no sign of following recent protocols. It's Christmas in Grenada. A time of family, friends, festive activities, and, for many, drinking and parties. However, Grenada recently has been hit with a cluster of Covid patients. As many as 800 people are in quarantine, having been in contact with a Covid patient. The government has implemented a list of new protocols.  As a foreign missionary, Christmas already can be a challenging time. Now, according to the laws of Grenada, there are to be no social gatherings. Christmas can only be celebrated with people from your own household. Which, currently, is only myself. I think of those who pass. It must be lonely without Jesus. The throb of the music. The drained bottle. The high druggies. All give evidence to that fact. And Christmas. Its the farthest thing from Chr...

Last year I mourned Christmas passing me cheerfully by in Minnesota. I missed the snow and cold. I missed caroling where you weren't wearing flip flops. I missed the Christmas parade and our community Christmas supper. Christmas cookies, special time with family, the festive feeling in the cold air. Instead I had palm trees, a hot sun, and something that felt far from Christmas.  This year I do not mourn my absence from Minnesota Christmas. Rather I mourn the absence of that Christmas, the long-held traditions that made it Christmas for me. It's bitter sweet. While it tugs to know that others are celebrating without me, the thought that those traditions aren't even taking place leaves me feeling empty. Thinking of lock downs and Covid leaves me feeling strangely stark and bare. Almost as if Christmas has been stripped away.  We say we are celebrating the real meaning of Christmas, but are we as much as we think we are? When our cozy little safe places are stripped away, do ...

We have this discussion in our house, whether cooking is difficult because we are singles with a busy schedule, or if it's because we happen to live in a place where groceries are more expensive and less dependable. Either way, ideas can be scarce and I work hard not to succumb to granola bars and crackers for my school lunch.  Maybe you're a single living alone. Maybe you live in a foreign country. Maybe you're a busy mom. Or maybe you've  got it all figured out. But here's a few ideas I have used that I've enjoyed. Maybe they can give you inspiration.  I don't know if you eat breakfast. For me it's a must, but it can't be anything to time consuming. This year my staple has been baked oatmeal. I bake a pan ahead of time so it's ready to go in the mornings. If you have a microwave, reheating it is a great option. If you don't, like me, eating it cold can be just as tasty. I've tried to keep my recipes varied, from pumpkin, coconut, or cof...

It's early and still dark when I rise.  My alarm sounds at an earlier hour then necessary in order to arrive at school on time, but I love my trysts with morning.  Water splashed onto face.  One light flicked on in the kitchen to make the coffee.  Sometimes standing, gazing across the ravine at the distant hill where sun will soon push it's way over the horizon. Sky streaked with color.  Sometimes gazing at the small strip of blue ocean visible from our house.  Pouring the steaming brew, it's time to begin the day with God.  A white string of light accents my room, setting the tone.  Some mornings my prayers are heavy.  Other mornings my heart overflows with praise.  Then my Bible. Isaiah right now.  Judgment.  Yet mercy.  And James, a memorization challenge. The whole book, due in January.  Then time to prepare for the day.  Puttering around the kitchen. A few dishes to wash. Ants to spray.  Water bottles t...

The morning feels steamy and slightly heavy. I can tell as I take my morning walk that, unless rain comes, it will be hot today. Last week it rained and the days were delightfully cool. This week it's been warm again.  Unlocking the door after my walk, I take off my shoes and grab my lunch box to quick pack it before heading to the shower. Emily and Ariana chat as they fry up their morning egg or dish out yogurt.  I carry two containers of bars to school with me this morning. Tonight is parent teacher meeting and we usually serve refreshments. I'm the first teacher to school this morning, which is usual. I drop my things on my desk, then open the windows to the hot tropical sun.  "Good morning Miss Krista." "Morning Omari. Ya good?" "Yes miss." I make a few notes in my lesson planner before I'm interrupted by calls from excited students.  "Miss. A centipede!" I grab the cutlass, known as a machete in the States, and advance carefully....

"I'm restless till I rest in You." These are the lyrics from a song sung by Audrey Assad.  And it rings deep.  "I'm restless till I rest in You." Life is busy. No matter where you find yourself.  Personally for myself, I find there's a certain business found on the mission field that is unique. Not that other seasons and times of life are not busy, but it's a different kind of busy. Often we come home from school, quick run a load of wash, throw together supper, and leave again for the evening.  If you are not drawing your strength from Christ, it becomes evident.  And your restless. Restless until you rest in Him. Many times it's not the rest of being completely alone, resting in body. Rather it's the choosing to be still and rest IN the busy. To allow your mind, your spirit, to be still even when around you there is business. Being still when you have a church activity, choosing not to allow school to stress you, enjoying the weekly grocery...

Dinghies bob in the Carnage. Reggae music throbs in the swaying bus. It's humid today, rain showers springing up, clouds hanging on the horizon. I look down on Grande Anse Beach as we pass. It's mostly empty, strange for this time of year in the Caribbean.  I signal to drop at the next stop and the bus pulls up by Grill Master. I hand the conducter my $2.50 and sling my bag over my shoulder. Crossing the road, I walk the quarter mile to Spiceland Mall, which is also home to IGA, our destination for Monday grocery runs.  I'm seeking quiet and alone. I know I can't find it quite like MN, where my only companions are the pines and songs of birds, but it's space away. The drink is cold, the mall A/C, and the people relatively quiet. It's good to get away. From school. From LaBorie. From those I'm normally with. And it's been a good first month back. 

"The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want." The familiar words roll off my tongue as I sit in Ms. Doreen's board house. "He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters." There's so many memories wrapped up in this passage. Reciting it to my grandpa and receiving my $1 prize. Family devotions. Sunday morning sermons. And now another memory added. Sweating in a poor Grenadian home. "He restoreth my soul." My grandpa and my father both describe the soul as your mind, will and emotions. When He restores my soul, He restores those three things.  The battle of the mind is very real. I've seen others cave in the fight, recently the mother who shot her son, then herself. Sickness in the mind is very powerful. But He can restore it. My will. What I want to do, or don't want to do. What I get passionate or excited about. What drives me. And when I have no will, no passion, no excitem...

I haven't written much in this space for the last 10 months since coming to Grenada, and I won't give an excuse either. I started my blog for a creative outlet and therefore don't let it dictate my life. While teaching school and engaging in busy mission life, I felt so often I didn't have the mental energy to write here. Then of course Covid changed everything and suddenly I was left with a lot of time, but feeling devoid of words. What to write, to say when the world is in such turmoil? When my world is in such turmoil. I was empty of inspiration. Life can change so quickly. Last week I was eagerly looking forward to a trip home. Now...only God knows. So I'm writing now. Not because I've suddenly become enlightened with wisdom, or even inspiration, but because it's time to write.  Worship in the Waiting  The clock ticks it's steady rhythm.  Seconds, minutes, hours.  The slow process of time.  For me right now, the v...

In case your yard is still wet and brown, here's some liquid sunshine to hold you over until summer.

There is no doubt God has the world's attention. Every eye is glued to the development of Covid-19. It's fingers have touched everyone, whether directly or indirectly.  For some it means being hospitalized, quarantined, and labored breath through a ventilator.  For others it means the inconvenience of limited movement, awkward grocery trips, and time off work.  For these people it means a lot of extra time..  Suddenly the web is full of things to do in quarantine, foods to make off pantry staples, and ways to keep yourself occupied without going insane.  It's been interesting observing the way people have been using their time.  There's a few different ways to view this time. 1.WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!?! 2. For the wasted men, drinking and smoking, they continue to do just that. 3. And how can I best use this time? What new thing can I learn? How can I better develop a skill? How can I bless others? How can I teach...

91  He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. 2  I will say of the  Lord , He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust. 3  Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence. 4  He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler. 5  Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; 6  Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday. 7  A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee. 8  Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked. 9  Because thou hast made the  Lord , which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation; 10  There shall no evil befa...

"Peace in our time," were Neville Chamberlain's words as he addressed English people, holding a peace agreement signed by Hitler. Peace because Hilter had promised not to invade Britain.  But he did. And that "peace" Neville Chamberlain promised was shattered. We are not presently facing a war, but our world is in turmoil.  Unrest. Uncertainty. Anxiety. We are looking for something to bring peace. And it won't be toilet paper. In reality, should we be surprised at this disease? God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah with fire. He struck down the Israelites worshiping the golden calf. Ananias and Sapphirah died for lying. Is the world at present any better then that?  Should we as Christians be surprised that God is using a virus to call people to attention? Yet uncertainty is not our happy place. We want to know what will happen. We want peace in our time. Yet it is in moments like these that God offers peace if w...

Sometimes, riding in a bus along the Lagoon, I wonder at the beauty. Sailboats. Yachts. Brilliant colors. Blue ocean. Sometimes in the heat of the day, I wish for the cool.  Sometimes when I'm faced with yet another difficult situation, I want to be home. It's more predictable.  Sometimes, especially when a young group of teenagers come for a visit, I can scarcely contain my laughter at the cultural contrasts.  Most of the times I love the food.  And the beauty.  And the ocean.  Many times the beauty is clouded with another difficulty.  And many times I forget what I have been blessed with.  Until I see again the shirtless child, running in the street unsupervised.  Or realize how much I truly have compared to some.  Then I look at the ocean. Or the flowers. Or the palms.  And thank God for Grenada. 

"He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater, He sendeth more strength when the labors increase; To added afflictions He addeth His mercy, To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace. When we have exhausted our store of endurance, When our strength has failed ere the day is half done, When we reach the end of our hoarded resources, Our Father’s full giving is only begun. Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision, Our God ever yearns His resources to share; Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing; The Father both thee and thy load will upbear. His love has no limits, His grace has no measure, His power no boundary known unto men; For out of His infinite riches in Jesus, He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again." Songs have become more real to me in the last few years. Words. Phrases. Verses. Coming to me to bless and encourage me. This song rings with truth. For my students. For the Grenadian church. Fo...

I'm hoping none of you were at the Super Bowl and watched the halftime show.  And if you did, I hope you were overwhelmed with a sickening feeling in your gut, and a crushing burden.  Did you know that the Super Bowl is the #1 place for human trafficking in the US?  And the halftime show was blatantly flaunting that.  Ropes. Cages. The satanic symbol. Children falling at the feet of a pole dancer.  And incredibly, all in the name of feminism.  If this doesn't sicken you, make you want to cry, then look again. It openly is the work of the devil. I would liken it to the circumstances Amy Carmichael faced in India. This is sin. This is atrocious wickedness. This is a very heavy darkness.  And Americans applauded it.  It sickens me.  Normally I'm not looking to be the next Amy Carmichael. But this has me looking.  But while I grieve this atrocity. While my heavy heart prays for the freedom of thos...

In Time of Trouble, Say: He brought me here.  I am in His keeping.  And this is His time. -Andrew Murray 

Sometimes I wonder.  As I bend over a child, Patiently guiding.  Or as I try and fail to explain.  Or as I look into their eyes when they want to defy. I wonder.  Am I doing enough?  Am I being enough?  Am I saying enough?  For all the times they did something and I didn't see.  Or I let something slip that should have been corrected.  And I'm reminded again, I don't know how to do this.  I'm not enough.  So I take my pieces, Sometimes scattered, here and there,  And hold them out to Him.  "Here. "It's all I have.  "Please somehow use it."  And He does. He is.  Not because of me.  But more often, in spite of me. 

Looking over the first trimester of school, the days felt long, but the time was short. The tests, the work, the daily grind, it all felt so long in the midst, but it was gone quickly. And now, looking ahead, the time seems to be slipping through my fingers. It won’t be long until I board the plane to return home in July. W e had 3 eventful weeks of Christmas vacation. The first was filled with a Bible School for young people, which was located up the island. It was extremely refreshing and encouraging, and I came away with a better vision for what I should be doing here. For the next week and a half there were only two of us girls in the house, rather than 4, and the time was filled with wonderful variety. We hiked a mountain in the mud, cleaned, baked Christmas cookies, spent time with people, held an adorable new baby, and walked through the community to hand out cookie plates. It was relaxing and nice to have a change. Christmas day we spent with some of the staff....