Dig Your Wells in the Dry Season

As our days are starting to get warmer here, we think about water a bit more especially when it comes to cooling off, or maybe watering our plants. In Sierra Leone where I work for let them lol, the warmer, dryer months can present life altering, even life threatening circumstances. We call that time of year the dry season. The dry season usually extends from January through parts of May until the rains come again. During this time a landscape that was once lush, green and full of life becomes dry, dusty and will not support life or growth.

For many people, their usual water sources go dry during this time. That means they have to walk even further to get water. Often through dangerous terrain. And usually that water they are gathering is contaminated and unsafe to drink. On top of all that, they have to carry this water (usually in a 5 gallon, 40 pound container) many miles back home. Some villages are lucky enough to have a hand dug well in their community. Many times dug by the locals, its nothing more than an open pit with a bucket. Accessible, but unhealthy to drink, and usually very shallow. These almost always go completely dry during the dry season.

As part of our work and mission to bring every village access to clean, safe drinking water, hand dug wells are one option we may provide. Though our preferred method is to drill a deep (its called a borehole) well, many villages are inaccessible for our large drilling equipment and so we go with our next best option which is a hand dug well. The process of digging a hand dug well, is long, labor intensive and very difficult. Our drill team take turns being lowered into the hole, with a shovel, pic axe and a bucket. Bucket by bucket the well is deepened, until at last they hit water. The well is then lined with concrete, and a pump is installed.

What we have discovered over time is there is only 2-4 week window in a year when we can hand dig wells. We have to do this during the driest month of the dry season. This is the time when the water table is lowest. By doing this, we hit the water at its lowest point, thus ensuring that for the rest of the year the well never goes dry.

This got me thinking…

We all face dry seasons in life. Times were it seems like everything is hard, and maybe we are even under a cloud. This could be a time of sickness, loss, or even the accumulation of exhaustion from going through hard or challenging times. Its often during these times that our well, our source of faith and hope seems dried up. Exhausted, the idea of digging down deeper to find what we need seems to be too difficult. So we begin to wander, outside the village looking for another source. What we find is even if we think we have found something that will satisfy, it ends up being contaminated and makes us sick. Just like the water people in Sierra Leone walk many miles to find in the dry season. Like them, when we go to another source, we have to carry the burden and weight of that back into our village. And its not good for us, and we end up even more exhausted and empty.

It seems so counterintuitive, but if we would only dig our wells in our driest season. Many of you have probably experienced the joy and intimacy that can come in your relationship with God, when instead of turning away in your dry season, you lean into Him. You put your shovel and ax into that hard, dry, dusty ground and you dig deeper and deeper. Digging so relentlessly and desperately until you find the source. You hear His still small voice in the darkness of that hole. Allowing yourself to go to the place of no return. He has to come through, a spring has to be under all the rock or you won’t make. And He does, He always comes through. He always gives His people just what they need at just the right time.

Once the well is dug, it is done. That spring of pure, fresh water will last for decades. It is the same with us. When we dig our wells and lean into Jesus in our dry seasons, the things He shows us and the faith muscles we have built will refresh and sustain us later in life when more dry seasons come. The beautiful bonus to water that comes from so deep down is that it is actually cool in temperature. It is refreshing. And just like the wells dug by our drill team are not just for their refreshment, they are for all those around the village and even the next generation to come, so our spiritual wells drilled in our dry season will be a refreshment to others.

So instead of running away in your dry season, pick up you shovel and dig a deep well.

Not wanted here

I’m working on a construction project right now. As these things go, expected weeks of paperwork and approvals turn into months. Finally, we get the go ahead to start clearing the land. I called up the site guys, and said, “let’s go, let’s get the site ready.”

It’s amazing how when places sit vacant for so long, they become familiar and comfortable, and for many it’s hard to imagine (or even accept) that they can and should be so much more.

Clearing day finally arrived, a day we waited seven months for. Within hours, the site was transformed. What was a beautiful, open space dusted in bright, clean, white snow, literally became an ideal location for a mud festival. Some see dirt, and a mess… dreamers see what could, what ought to be. See, you don’t get to what could be without getting a bit dirty. You don’t get there accepting the status quo. And you definitely can not get there unless you are willing to disturb some things.

As the site guys were minding their business doing their work, a car comes by, and the driver puts down his window, shouting expletives at them and saying: “we don’t want you here”. They weren’t happy that what they had become familiar with was being disturbed.

It got me thinking…

The enemy wants to stop us before we get started. He wants to tell us we aren’t wanted or welcome or (worse of all) worthy to walk in the the promises of God. I think he’s a bit concerned when we start to dream of how we can engage and participate in kingdom work. But I know he’s terrified when we pick up a shovel, and start making way for dreams and visions to become a reality.

A vision already in motion is a hard thing to stop.

So he has to cut us off at the pass. To stop us before we get started.

We tend to look at the landscape of our lives, and appreciate its current beauty. We live in fear of disturbing what is good, and familiar and safe for what could be. 

The enemy doesn’t want us working with the Master Builder. He does not want us allowing the Chief Cornerstone to be placed in our foundation. And he definitely does not want us invading the dark places, disturbing them and bringing the Gospel hope to ravished streets and ruined walls.

But the thing is, he doesn’t get to decide.
God has already issued the construction permit in our lives. WE have the go ahead to join him in restoring broken places and people. And He is inviting us to open our hearts to clearing and tearing down what needs to go and constructing us into what we were always meant to be.

The redemption plan was drawn up long before time began.

We each have a calling, a destiny. A place in the great story.
And in the times and places the enemy shouts or whispers “You’re not wanted here” those are the exact times we need to act and the exact places that we know we are meant to run towards.

The beautiful thing is we don’t need to figure it all out:

Isaiah 42:16 says:

“And I will lead the blind
    in a way that they do not know,
in paths that they have not known
    I will guide them.
I will turn the darkness before them into light,
    the rough places into level ground.
These are the things I do,
    and I do not forsake them.” (ESV)

And the Message says it this way:

“But I’ll take the hand of those who don’t know the way,
    who can’t see where they’re going.
I’ll be a personal guide to them,
    directing them through unknown country.
I’ll be right there to show them what roads to take,
    make sure they don’t fall into the ditch.
These are the things I’ll be doing for them—
    sticking with them, not leaving them for a minute.”

So when someone shouts “you’re not wanted here” and it’s got you doubting what has already been stirring. Grab your shovel and get clearing! Something amazing is waiting to be built!

Beautifully Broken

During difficulties and trials people will often say things like “everything happens for a reason.” Or “all things work together for good…” While both of these statements are true, when you are in the midst of heartache or despair, they aren’t the easiest things to hear or see.

Many people I know have had to and currently are walking through some very dark places. There can be times when we feel caught in a pit and we can’t see a way out. As followers of Jesus, we are being refined every day to be more like Him. I have always imagined the refining process like being put into a pot of water. The heat is slowly turned up, and slowly the junk comes to the surface and we are refined. There have been times in my life when I asked God multiple times if He was using a chisel on me. I imagined Him with the chisel in hand, saying lets take off this whole piece here. It can be painful and often times lonely.  We can feel like we are being stripped of everything. And all that is left is God, and in those darkest places, He proves to be so faithful.

Remarkably it is during these seasons in my life I have witnessed more miracles big and small. There is something about trials and suffering that if we press into the Lord, He will demonstrate His love to us in incredible ways that we wouldn’t have otherwise been able to see. Many times the miracles come in the 11th hour and in both simple and profound ways. For me one such miracle was through an incredible song by Hillsong called Broken Vessels. Here are a few of the lines that really stand out:

“All these pieces, broken and scattered, in mercy gathered, mended and whole, empty handed, but not forsaken…you take our failure, you take our weakness, you set your treasure, in jars of clay, so take this heart, Lord, I’ll be your vessel, the world to see, your love in me.”

And there it was…a beautiful miracle in the brokenness… A gift though a song. You see, 2 Corinthians 4:7-9 says this: “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed..”

The jars of clay are us, our bodies. Crafted together from dust by the Creator. And just like the potter, He shapes and forms us into vessels to demonstrate His love to the world. And as Jesus followers His light shines in us and through us.

Imagine with me a jar made of clay.

If you put a candle in it, where would the light shine? Through the top.

Now smash that jar of clay, and what happens? It breaks into a bunch of pieces. If we were to take all those pieces and glue them back together, we would be left with a jar with a bunch of cracks in it. And what would people say if they saw that jar? Would they think it had worth? Would they accept it? No, they would feel it was no longer useful and it would likely be discarded. And if the jar could share what would it say? Probably the same things. It probably would feel worthless.

I think that’s true for many of us as we walk through trials. We can feel so alone, abandoned. We wonder why.

But lets put the candle back into our broken jar and what happens?

Not only does the light come through the top but it shines all around through all the broken pieces.

I have learned that God in His mercy sometimes allows us to be broken. We may feel completely devastated and useless during the season of brokenness. But in His incredible mercy He gathers (if we let Him) all our broken pieces and puts them together. And in the end, our brokenness allows His light to shine even brighter through us. And we are broken vessels demonstrating God’s love to a world who so desperately needs Him.

Looking back over the different trials of life, I have come to a place of thankfulness. I thank God that He has allowed me to be broken. My faith has been strengthen and my prayer is my brokenness would be used for the sake of His Kingdom.

My hope for you is the next time you are going through a season of suffering that you will see that there is beauty in brokenness.

The Place in Between


The number of times my feet stepped off one continent and onto another.
From paved roads, comfortable homes to red dirt streets and mud huts.
The journey is grueling.
Each time I am more and more unsettled.
How is that possible?
Is that peace?
A holy discontent.
A longing for all things made new.
Home is no longer about a place, it is about people, my people.
Some of my people reside within the four walls of my physical home, others are 3000 miles away.
How do you reconcile the pain of leaving your kids?
Goodbye tears flow equally from your kids on both sides of the ocean.
Heart ripped out.
And broken again.
You never get used to it.
How can you?
In some ways it gets worse.
It gets harder.
How do you see children with bloated bellies and red hair from malnutrition one day and the next return to the land of abundance?
How do you follow children deep into the woods to the nastiest water source and return to an abundance of clean water?
How do you find a normal again?
You don’t.
And that’s ok.
We aren’t supposed to be settled.
We aren’t supposed to feel comfortable.
The more you love the more it hurts, but that’s good.
A love that has been tested and tested and perseveres despite all odds, that is the deepest, sweetest love.
But it comes at a cost.
The price is worth paying.
So many times now that I am no longer sure where home is.
But I am learning its not either place.
Home is coming.
It is the place where He will right all wrongs, He will make all things new.
Till then I will fight.
Fight for the broken, the lost and forgotten.
Find those in the pit, covered and stained by everything that is broken.
Raise them up out of the ashes, and given them a crown of beauty.
Speak over them the promises and words of their Father.
I will fight.
I will find my place in the place in between.


We’ve all heard it said “if the devil can’t make you bad, he will make you busy.” While I do agree that busyness can get us into trouble, I think there is something even more subtle and effective. Getting us to be sidelined, and out of the game, out of making a difference for the kingdom.

As a culture we are consumed with comparison. In fact, many marketing strategies are built on it. We all feel like we need that “it” item that every one else has. Social media is like gasoline to this fire. If only I had what he had. If only I had the opportunities that she had. If only this and if only that. Studies have even shown that social media can even contribute to depression, and I believe it’s because comparison can be so detrimental to our souls.

Recently, I’ve been having conversation with my friends about this topic. A friend said to me “I will never do amazing things for God, like go to Africa like you do.” I was shocked to hear this as I really respect this friend as an amazing woman of God. She is incredibly encouraging, funny and a wonderful mother. She is someone who seems so grounded and all together. And yet, she feels she’s less effective or important to the kingdom because she does not feel led to travel to Africa.

I looked at her and said, “and I look at you and how you care for your children and how thoughtful and encouraging you are to others, and I feel like I will never be like that.” I call myself “domestically challenged”, its just not my strong point, and sometimes I really beat myself up about it. Especially when we are invited to someone’s house and they cook and amazing meal, or when I see posts of moms doing crafts with their kids.

So did you catch what happened in my conversation with my friend? She’s looking at me, saying, “I will never do those things, I don’t measure up, I don’t matter as much.” And I am looking at her saying the same thing.

The comparison game can leave us paralyzed. It can sideline us. I believe we each have a unique God given purpose. But if we spend our time looking at others, comparing, wishing for their lives, feeling inadequate, we will miss what He has for us. In fact, we sideline ourselves.

We are all unique. God has given us each gifts and talents for use in His Kingdom. In addition, the scope of our influence is also God given, and looks different for each of us. Our purpose is to discover what He uniquely created us to do, and to serve him with all our hearts. We are all members of one team, each position may look different, but every position matters. We are a body, every part matters.

So yes, I do travel to Africa for my job. Not everyone can or wants to do that. And my friend has written me encouraging notes, and brought a meal for our family during a difficult time as she does for others. Without encouragement from people like that, people that do missions work would not be able to do what we do. We each matter.

Let’s fast-forward 100 years…. none of us will be here. We will all be in eternity. What will matter is what we did with what we specifically were given and asked to do. And whatever crowns and rewards we get, I believe our desire will be to lay them at His feet anyways, they aren’t for us. Our lives matter most in light of Him and His kingdom, not our small world.

Has comparison left you sidelined because you feel like your gifts aren’t as good or important as someone else’s? Get off the bench and get in the game. You matter to the team. Most importantly, you matter to the King.

Faith in the Waiting.

“I miss you mommy.” The sound of that phrase coming from the voice and heart of a five year old would melt anyone’s heart. But when that missing has been going on day after day for 7 months, and your daughter is 3000 miles away the sound of it takes your breath away and hurts.

We are at the very last stage of our adoption. After three years of praying, learning, processing and paperwork we need one tiny piece of paper that says we can bring our daughter home. Around the final turn of the adoption journey, we’ve come up against another mountain. Call it a snag, extra step, roadblock, whatever you name it; it stands between us and our daughter coming home.

They say in adoption, that you hurry up and do a bunch of work and then you wait, and you wait some more. During the waiting I’ve kept myself busy buying clothes, redecorating the girls room, painting their bunk bed, etc. But when everything was done, there was nothing left to do but to wait, and then wait some more.

I hate waiting.

I’ve already admitted that I’m afraid of the quiet, and in the waiting there can be a lot of quiet. In the waiting there is a lot of opportunity for fear and doubt to set in…all the “what ifs”.  The truth is God uses the waiting to shape us, to refine us, to make us look at our motives and also to bring us lovingly to a place where all we are left with is to pray, to trust.

I am at the end of myself, the end of all the planning and all the doing. Now, its only God who can see it through. The funny thing is it has really been only Him all along. He’s been there in every step, working miracle after miracle. He’s got this. He’s holding us and He’s holding her. She was a daughter of the King before she was ours, before time began and His love will carry her through.

Today I took another step of faith; I bought our daughter a suitcase for the plane ride home. It may not seem like a big deal, but it is a huge step of faith for me. It’s my way of saying, God, no matter what obstacles I trust You to finish this work. It will sit in my room as a daily reminder that all my trust and hope must rest in Him.  I don’t know all the hows and whens about our adoption, but I just know He will see it through. There may be a mountain, but I know the Mountain Mover.

Are you in a season of waiting? How has your faith grown as a result?

“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory…” Ephesians 3:20-21a

Compassion Scars

So what happens when we step into the mud? We get dirty, right? Have you ever stepped into someone else’s pain or problems and it causes you to get hurt or uncomfortable in some way?

This past Tuesday was a very difficult day. We are in what we hope is the final phase of our adoption, but we found out that our sweet adoptive daughter is sick. Sick in a country that has very little medical care. Sick in a country where diseases that have been almost completely eradicated from the US are commonplace. On top of all that, I found out that two of our kids in our children’s home are in the hospital very sick. The realization sets in that without our program being there and the wonderful sponsors of these two boys, they probably wouldn’t be alive right now and it’s a sobering reality.

I have ups and downs in this work we are doing. There are days of celebration like recently when we got the news that our primary school is fully funded. But there are a lot of days of heartache. Some days, like last Tuesday, you just wonder what else can happen, how much more can your heart take.

In a moment of quietness, God spoke something so clear. Our conversation went like this:

(Me)“God, I just don’t understand, we are just trying to help these kids, and its so painful, so overwhelming, how much more heartbreak can we take?”

(God) “What you are doing is an act of compassion, right?”

(Me) “Yes, yes it is.”

(God) “And compassion means to suffer with, to suffer alongside, right?”

(Me) “Yes, yes it does.”

(God) “So at what point, did you expect to step into suffering and not feel pain, to not become uncomfortable?”

(Me) “I see it now.”

(God) “Good, then let’s get on with it, follow me.”

I am not sure if it is a western culture thing, or just a human thing, but I know our tendency is towards comfort and away from pain. When it’s cold out, we put a coat on. When it’s hot out, we put the AC on. When our back hurts, we take a Motrin. We run from pain, hurt and confrontation. We all want to be comfortable.

Later in the week, we also learned of the unexpected death of a missionary we know. He spent many years serving God, choosing to follow Him over the life he could’ve had of comfort. I thought of him standing before Jesus. I do not think he in that moment said, “I wish I would’ve lived a more comfortable life.” I think its safe to say, looking into Jesus’ eyes, he was glad he laid it all down for Him.

So now, the challenge comes to you and me friend. We have a God who ran towards suffering, not away from it. When we see injustice, when we see people hurting will we take the easy way out and simply say, “I’m praying for you”? Or, will we embrace true compassion, one that choses to step into suffering and expose ourselves to potential pain and hurt?

Do we really want to step out of this life, into the next unscathed when others are suffering so much? I wanna leave this world with compassion scars, because the One I am following after has them, and I want my life to look like His. So let’s go, let’s get on with it.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

How have you stepped into someone’s pain to show true compassion? Has someone done that for you? I would love to hear your story. Let’s encourage each other with stories of hope.


Mushy Ground

After a really extra long, extra cold winter here in Buffalo, spring has finally arrived!

Yesterday, I parked in my usual spot to pick up my munchkins from school. I started walking across the grass area I always do. This time though, I got really muddy. The ground was super soft and wet from all the melting snow. And it got me thinking…It’s usually after the first big thaw that the ground is the mushiest and messiest. The ground is super soft, and pliable, ready to receive the seeds in spring that will grow through summer and yield harvest in the fall. I think it’s how God uses difficulties and storms in our lives. After the winter and during the thaw:

  • We are the most pliable and soft to hear from God.
  • We are fertile soil for Him to plant in us what He is calling us to.
  • When we feel we are at our messiest, it’s the perfect time for God to shape us.
  • Many times the weeds are dead and there’s less competing to distract us from growth.

Life is all about seasons. For now, I find myself in a winter as I am waiting on God for our adoption, but there are signs that spring is coming!

If you are in the joy of summer, make sure you don’t allow the soil of your heart to harden and get you to a place where you aren’t relying on Him.

If you are in the harvest of fall, enjoy the blessing and fruit of how God is using you and immerse yourself in Him because you know another winter is coming.

If you find yourself in a cold, long winter, remember that spring is coming. Lean into Him in the long, cold nights.

And if you find yourself in the growth of spring, keep the soil of your heart soft so that God can mold you and plant in you Kingdom callings!

[well]”For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever!” 2 Corinthians 4:17[/well]

Are You Afraid of the Quiet?

[well]“Come to me all who are weary and heavy burdened and I will give you rest.” Jesus [/well]

Strangely while this gift from Jesus should seem like a relief, to me it has always felt like a punishment, like I had to be put in “time out.”

I’m learning I’m addicted to doing. I can’t sit still and I always need to be going. And while this can be a strength, there is always a dark side to our strengths, and for me it’s that I never rest. Well that catches up with you eventually, and after an extremely busy year both personally and at work I have crashed.

About two weeks ago all the doing caught up with me. For about a week tears flowed uncontrollably. I’m really not a crier so this was very strange and I felt like I was losing control.  I took some time to just sit and be still. And that’s where I realized I am afraid of the quiet. In the quiet we can’t mask our problems, our fears or our disappointments, it’s like someone shines a spotlight on them. And I dare say that is actually a good thing.

Here’s what I learned in the quiet:

  1. God’s not done with me. In fact I have a long way to go to be refined and become more like Jesus.
  2. Kingdom work goes on even while we rest. God invites us in and uses us, but its really not all going to fall apart without us.
  3. It is dishonoring to Him to not take care of ourselves physically.
  4. He loves us so much. HIS LOVE FOR US IS NOT DEPENDENT ON WHAT WE DO. He loves us simply because we are His. Wow, that is so freeing.

I took the past week off and stayed home and faced my fear of the quiet. I also decided that I was going to take my health seriously and switched to a week of all whole foods. I will talk more about that in another post. But lets just say the first four days were a real battle, but by the end of the week so much clarity and strength came.

What God taught me in the quiet is that while it brings Him glory when we serve Him with all we are and have, that it is also dishonoring to Him when we don’t take time and rest in Him. If we are to become more like Him, then we have to take the time in rest and reflection for Him to refresh us and speak to our hearts.

Are you weary from doing? Come into the quiet and rest, He is there waiting.


Bring Me That Horizon

“Bring me that horizon” is the last line Captain Jack Sparrow says at the end of Pirates of the Caribbean. After a squash-buckling journey, he at last is Captain once again of his beloved Black Pearl. Looking into his compass, and then to the horizon, he sets sail for his future.

I’ve been contemplating death a lot lately. Maybe it’s because of a vacation I just took with my family, and having more time to just think about life. Or maybe it’s because of the recent diagnoses of cancer in people around me. Or maybe because I recently took two trips to Sierra Leone and was once again face to face with extreme poverty, disease and death. Likely it’s a combination of all these things. But I will challenge you, that thinking about death from time to time is healthy. It helps focus us.

You see, what I am growing into is a desire is to live in the light that death is coming. Our lives are but a vapor; we are here today and gone tomorrow. And lately I’ve been saying I want to leave it all on the field. I want to love my husband and kids ardently, not missing one smile, one kiss, one moment to add value and life to who they are. I want to continue to discover and develop the gifts God has given me so I can be used for His kingdom. I desire to truly love my neighbor as I love myself. I want to stop sweating the little things that can so easily consume and weigh us down.

Live Fully. Love Greatly. Give Completely.

You see, we are on a ship, sailing through this ocean called life. But the ocean isn’t all there is, we are headed for a shore, but we cant see it because its off over the horizon. As a follower of Jesus, the shore I am heading for is Heaven. And the time spent on this sea of life is so short compared to an eternity on that shore. Sometimes the water is calm and peaceful and other times the waves are terrifying, and there are so many potential distractions along the way.

I challenge us today to keep our eyes on that horizon, because just over it, an eternity awaits. We have one journey on the sea of life, one chance to do all our King has asked of us.

Interestingly, sailors often use the horizon and a celestial body such as a sun in navigation to ensure they are on the right course. Perhaps if we keep our eyes on Jesus, the Son and what’s over the horizon, which is eternity to come, our journey through the seas of life will be intentional, focused and effective for His glory. And we will reach the shore with no regrets.