Plumb Lines

Week Two of Lectures we learned about the Father Heart of God. Now that may not have much to do with plumb-lines in your mind, but I'm a girl and in my brain everything is connected. Though, I will now confess that this post is more focused on one of the points that we learned during the week, rather than a whole summary on a father's heart. To begin with....

What is a plumb-line? According to dictionary.com it is "a cord with a lead bob attached to one end used to determine perpendicularity" or by google "determining the vertical on an upright surface". Those are both slightly confusing, so my understanding of a plumb-line is a cord used by construction workers to determine whether a wall is straight and level. This week I've been learning the importance of having a good plumb-line.

If you've ever built towers out of wooden blocks, often times in the company of a child so you didn't look suspicious, then you probably know that you want the blocks to line up perfectly. Why perfectly? Because, if you start building on a precarious angle your masterpiece of wooden blocks is going to come crumbling down and make your audience either laugh or moan. In this kind of scenario you are most likely building out of boredom, fun, or to show off your creative mind and use your eyes to determine whether the structure can hold another block or not.

We build other walls in life, and often times those walls aren't being built for creative purposes or out of boredom. I don't mean the walls of a house, I mean the walls of a heart. "Oh snap!" you say, "Here she comes she's going to start the preaching now." I really don't see myself as a preacher, so I'm just going to keep going and you can decide for yourself. Because, the walls I build are my safe place, they are what I hide behind.

Our teacher Dave Neibling, challenged me by saying "where do we get the idea that we need walls?" Who/What gives us that impression? The media? The government? Our peers? Our teachers? Our parents? The Church? Don't you dare shrink in your chair, or start getting angry at me. Think about it! Why is it that my (maybe your different) first reaction when someone/something hurts me is to build a wall to block out the pain? Who taught me to do that?

Honestly, my walls do very little to block out all the crap that seems to come my way at different times in life. Something gets thrown in my face enough and my walls start to fall down. Not because of all the cracks that were sealed over five hundred times, but because I was in such pain that I just wanted the wall to be built. Who cares if it was on a major slant and looked like it would pancake me at any moment, it was there and it would protect me. This was my mindset. Rather, that is my mindset, I'm still working on it.

When a construction worker stands back and finds that his wall is sitting at an angle, what does he do? Does he leave it there and go find a better stretch of ground where hopefully his wall will be straight? Or does he knock the first wall down, find the foundation, and start over again? If there are problems with the foundation does he have the patience to fix them?

My life is constantly being measured by a plumb-line, and God is looking at it making sure it's straight and strong and can weather the storms that will come it's way. I find myself sitting at an angle so many times, it's frustrating and embarrassing. Not once, has God turned around and gone to start building somewhere else, leaving me to weather storms by myself. On the contrary, more often than not he provides the storm to knock me over so he can get a bulldozer to take away the junk, to clear off the foundation so he can start over again. I'm a stubborn piece of work, so he's also had to redo the foundation a few times.

How do you determine, whether your walls are straight or not? What's your plumb-line?

Thus ends my rant. I believe a happier and more enjoyable post, is soon to be scheduled. :)

The Adventures Begin!

Hi!

Let's see where to start....

As some, if not all, of you know I grew up on the mission field with my family who works with a non-profit organization know as Youth With A Mission (YWAM). YWAM's goal is to disciple young people in an educational and Biblical way, in order "To Know God, and Make Him Known" (their motto) to all nations. This is the atmosphere in which I grew up from the age of three, and for twelve years my life was unlike most children born in Canada, and in many ways still is, because I grew up in the Caribbean. More specifically in the Dominican Republic.
Now before your jaw drops and you start exclaiming how lucky I am, let me assure you that I did not grow up next to the beach, or go to school with other kids, or eat yummy tropical fruit every day of my life. In fact, I lived at least four hours away from the nearest beach, was home-schooled (with the exception of grade three), and found out that most tropical fruit does not agree with my taste buds.
During those long twelve years of making good friends with the other missionary families, learning Spanish, making friends with some locals, doing school, and being a crazy kid, I learned a few things that I'll share with you. 1. I enjoy travelling, even if it means getting car sick every once in awhile on windy mountain roads. 2. I had an interest in doing a Discipleship Training School (DTS) with YWAM, which would teach me more about myself as an individual in God's eyes and about His character in general, in the course of roughly three months followed by another three months of outreach. 3. I like the ocean. 4. Home-schooling is not for the faint of heart.
In 2010, after all three of my older brothers where spread out over the globe, my parents decided to move back to Canada to keep an eye on my mom's parents. Despite popular vote, I was happy to move again. Seeing as we had been living in the middle of nowhere, four hour's drive from the nearest YWAM family, I was glad to be going. Some may think that four hours isn't that far...to me it could be the most exciting or depressing car trip I went on, depending in which direction we were going. Don't get me wrong, I love my family and have worked through that time with my parents. But, here I am rambling, so moving on....
Through all the battles of high school and a good deal of culture shock, my childhood desire to do a DTS was being quickly forgotten. I made some amazing friends in school, and changed a good deal as most teenagers have a tendency to do. Upon graduation, I realized just how uncertain I was of what I wanted to do with my life. University was definitely an option, but what would I study? Taking a year off to work, and figure out my life the idea of doing a Discipleship Training School worked it's way through my brain.
In August, I started looking into some schools. I firmly decided that if I didn't go this fall, I probably wouldn't go at all. I found one in Australia beginning in October, and non-committally I applied. Things started to come together, and except for a battle with the visa people I found myself boarding a plane on the eighteenth of October to begin what I thought was going to be a two day journey to Australia, and the start of a very exciting adventure.
Turns out the birds in Dallas had other plans. I stayed in LA for two nights, ran into one of the other girls who I'm doing school with and was on the same plane, and arrived in Australia two days later than planned.
Here I am safe and sound, thinking this is a really long introduction. Maybe I should have told you this at the very beginning, but this blog will be about what I learn during these six months. So if you would like to read about my adventures you are at the right place. I would also appreciate prayer, as I learn more about God and what he is wanting to do in me during this time.