spilling my heart

i dont have a lot to offer people. especially right now.
one of the biggest struggles for me here in africa is feeling like i have no place, no home to have and welcome others 'into.' i so love having a room to entertain and a kitchen to whip up fresh cookies or make tea or coffee. i've always felt my ministry is best in having someone over, into my space, one-on-one.

right now, i have a glorious chair, but its still small, and my room/home is small and i often feel like i am saying: "come in, come sit on my bed." which is all well and fine, and in fact, i do love laying down on a double bed with a girlfriend and whispering into the light around us truth and sharing our hearts, but it makes it difficult to have others over onto your bed when that makes them uncomfortable, or its boys coming over. i don't mind boys seeing my room at home, but here it just seems more private and (this might sound weird) but sacred and it is weird for me to invite them in like that.

but i love spilling myself for others. the Lord asks for our best. and i've always felt my best is my time, my heart, my ear and prayers. and that is what i give back to Him, through others time and again. my sacrifice is myself. its my best, and worst, given to Him.

and He meets me there.

i spill the best of me. my heart, my tears, my fears, what i've seen and learned, and each time i ache to do it more....

the past two weeks have been surprising. i felt like i should share about jordan and everything on another blog as a new mentoring series was started. so i prayed and sat and tried to keep it under 300 words. i couldn't. so i did "two posts," only each was over 300 words. but each less than 310 words, so thats progress, right?!?! i dont even know if what i wrote will go 'live' but writing it reminded me of how big He is. i love sharing how He has walked beside me, but i dont like sharing if not asked. it was a good stretch doing that for me. a good faith step to believe He could minister out of me.

then, a good blogging friend shared a gentle request to someday hear my story. i love the invitation to share life. there is something sweet and sacred about honesty and pain and joy. i didn't try and keep this telling to 300 words. in fact, i checked and before i realized it, i was at over 11 pages single spaced! geez, i'm long winded! *smile* i'm just amazed at how far the Lord has taken me and how He gently is giving me back what locust ate.

tonight i just had dinner at the hopehouse. the americans occupy that place and invited tommy and i for dinner. TACO'S!!!! i love SA, but these people dont do mexican food right at all. it was yummy and i enjoy those americans. we were just about to watch a movie when one of the girls asked me to share my testimony with her. i asked if she wanted to hear it now, and all of it, or just the past few years?

so sitting around the countertops, joined by almost all the house occupants, i began to weave my life. we sat on the countertops because its the best place for conversation. love that house. love the blessing it is. but it was seriously not designed for conversation or comfort. the sofa is annoying and not comfortable and nothing faces each other. the countertops are more comfortable and at the right angles for conversing. i probably shouldn't say that...but its true. i love being over there and partaking of the house's blessings but its annoying too. and thats ok. life is also good and annoying. anyway, i digress.
so we are sitting around the countertops talking...

and i finish. i dont remember where i began. its always a bit unnerving knowing how to wrap things up. how to not make light of things but also let others know its ok to move and continue with life. i usually will crack some semi-inappropriate joke so everyone knows i'm ok and its ok to go do whatever it was they planned on doing before. one of the girls came up to me after when no one was around and with tears asked if we could get together and talk tomorrow. yes! only...i have so little to offer when i want to make a meal or cookies or have a comfy sofa with pillows and air-conditioning for the heat, and and and...

sometimes i want to say, "no." the trap that my lapa isn't enough to host someone makes me feel inadequate and embarrassed. just like how i sometimes want to tell the Lord no when He wants me to step out and minster where embarrassed and feeling inadequate. but i realize all He asks is for a heart willing to give it all. holding nothing back. He wants the best and worst parts.

so tomorrow (today, now) i'll share my lapa with one of the girls. the spilling of me will occur in sharing my home, in sharing my heart. and that is what He delights in.

there is such joy in spilling for another. i dont know. i can't explain it. but its life to my bones. its vindication and restoration and laughter and tulips on spring mornings and raindrops...

i'm reading an excellent book. i'm probably reading it a bit too fast. but its so good i can't put it down. it is super practical. it is my kind of book. it follows the Israelites and pulls lessons from their wondering so when you are walking through the wilderness you might learn from them. i like it. a lot.
one thing rick talks about is the fact of desert Oasis' awaiting you/me. he talks about what causes them. he talks about the fact that they will come. your desert might seem so dry and empty and barren, but in every desert is an oasis. its just a matter of time till you come upon yours.

then he says that people very often prove for a season to be the water and respite for our hearts. oh, how true!!! i can think of so many planned and random people who spoke calm and rejuvenation into my spirit the past few years. he then says we shouldn't just be ok with others being our oasis. we are called to be Christ, to be the water, the cool breeze for others. even when hurting.

it struck me. i think i find that the more i spill of myself the more i feel refreshed and uplifted.
that is Him in me. that is His promise proving true. that is what i stand on.
that as i pour He pours back. its such a promise. its such a beautiful gift.

the equal parts giving and spilling and being poured back into.
fill.
to filling and overflowing.

this afternoon we sat on the cold tile floor and shared stories. stories that should not even be imagined, let alone lived through. we cried happy tears after pausing to wipe the snot falling down our faces. we uttered faith and belief and trust when it seems bleak. i spilled my lessons learned. my hopes and doubts. she shared her fears and guilt. and together we became an oasis of calm.

i spill out, and He always spill back into me.
i spill my best, my time, my heart.
he spills his best too, his crimson, his time, his life.