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Flowers of the Field

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     Slate gray clouds settle like a comforter over the distant hills. A spill of golden light gleams at the crest of the valley in the last lantern glow of sunset. Trees stretch and sway in the evening breeze. A little spray of wildflowers leaning on a fence catches my attention. Their buds are not yet bloomed, clenched tightly shut with only a hint of pink at each tip. But that’s not what has drawn me in for a closer look. Instead, it’s the little caterpillar creeping up this flower’s slender stalk. This tiny creature is festooned with deep orange, inky black and decadent sprays of dainty hairs from tip to end. I smile. I love the tiny details in this world. The rich costumes of insects, the painstakingly ornate decorations on the smallest flower, the artistry on a bird’s plumage. They all point to the care and magnificence of God. And more than that, they remind me that if He takes enough time and attention to create beauty and perfectly provide for seemingly insignificant creatures

Life Giving Rain

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These were my thoughts during mid September when the wildfires in the Western states were at their worst and we'd had almost 2 weeks of terrible, toxic smoke in my town. Rain had finally come, and this was what came to my heart and mind... Drip. Drip. Drip. Rain splatters outside my window. It feels like the happy, contented dribble down your chin after gulping water on a hot, thirsty day. For almost two weeks there's been a thick, gagging smoke in my area due to ravenous wildfires. The brown and sickly-yellow haze came and began to squeeze the life from us even as the fires themselves ravaged nearby towns, razing them to the ground in their fury. We stumbled and gasped, blinking back tears from stinging eyes, stinging hearts. The fires have brought with them a heaviness of spirit too. Oppressive and choking, suffocating the tiny oxygen of hope, the little drops of joy, the vainly gripped peace.  I told my Dad today how much I longed to see blue skies. I've felt stifled. A

He Remembers We Are Dust

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Psalms 103:13-14 NIV As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. I don’t know about the rest of you, but there are days, especially lately, where I reach the end of the day bone tired. Not the well-earned, honest-work kind of tired. It’s the sapped-dry, reached-my-limit, culture stress sort of tired. The kind that comes in times of severe mental and emotional stress, intellectually demanding tasks, or uncertainty. Times like we’re walking through right now. As I was spending time with the Lord this week my heart and mind were pulled back to a Psalm I memorized with my brother in a time I had more sapped-tired days than good ones. It was Psalm 103.  It’s a poem written by David, all about God’s compassion - both to sinners, and to just plain-old frail human beings. The origin of the word “compassion” is the Latin word “compati” which literally means to “suffer with” (Oxford d

Megan & The Master: A God Who Speaks Their Language

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Many people have asked me about my Wycliffe ministry, how I ended up working with Wycliffe, and what I'm doing in Papua New Guinea. So, per your requests, I've put together a video to share about what I do and to answer some of your questions. This video will give you a little bit of a window into my Wycliffe ministry to the people of Papua New Guinea and why I'm passionate about people having access to God's Word in a language that speaks to their heart. Please feel free to share this video with friends, and don't hesitate to contact me via my Wycliffe Ministry Page: https://www.wycliffe.org/partner/3DF2D8 Or connect with me via my blog: https://www.purposeasia.blogspot.com I would love for you to join my team!

Yet I Will Rejoice...

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I wrote this piece back in 2018 when I was trying a new method of meditating on God's words. I had a couple of friends bring these verses up over the last week or so. I thought I would share this with you to encourage your hearts that our God is greater than what we can see. “Even though the fig trees have no blossoms, and there are no grapes on the vines; even though the olive crop fails, and the fields lie empty and barren; even though the flocks die in the fields, and the cattle barns are empty, yet I will rejoice in the LORD! I will be joyful in the God of my salvation! The Sovereign LORD is my strength! He makes me as surefooted as a deer, able to tread upon the heights.”  Habakkuk 3:17-19 NLT I walked among the dry barren trees as they crackled in the hot wind. Not a leaf was in sight and the dust puffed under the soft tread of my bare feet in a wispy cloud skittering over the dirt and away into the distance. My fingers traced the crackling vines on t

Six Years In Review

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Happy Sixth Anniversary! Can you believe it? Six years ago in March, I started my journey towards Papua New Guinea! I thought the best way to celebrate and share the joy with you would be to do a "six years in review" photo journal post. Thanks for taking this journey with me, the people of Papua New Guinea, and especially with God! Enjoy dear friends!  Note: I attempted to post this in March, but had issues with the photos. Hopefully they will cooperate now. ;)   Orientation and initial training feels like it was a thousand years ago, instead of six. Last year I was able to visit the Wycliffe headquarters again and reconnect with many people there. The above picture was taken for me by Mark Borland and was the picture for my first prayer card (2014).    Papua New Guinea was an unknown country for me. I'd been to the other side of the island before, but I'd never set foot in the country of Papua New Guinea. I felt a bit like Abraham, obeying G

Spring's Reminder of God's Faithful Love

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     Pink and white plum blossoms open their delicate faces towards the brilliant blue sky. Crocuses stretch out of the dark brown earth and daffodils nod their approval, as a sun-warmed breeze blows the scents of flowers and earth past their little assembly. Spring is gently beginning to assert itself; creeping over the ground in little clusters of green stalks and flower buds wrapped and ready to burst, running its fingers over the trees as tiny shoots and new blossoms shake themselves loose from the hard, stiff bark. I’ve always loved Springtime, but this year, maybe because it’s my first time seeing Spring for 3 years, it’s having a much more profound effect on me. God is using Spring to remind me of His deep love and faithfulness that is as constant and trustworthy as Springtime, and as reliable as the rising and setting of the sun.      It’s funny how easy it is to lose sight of the ever-present and incredible faithfulness of God, even when His handiwork and love are so evident