Rachel's Reflections

Sex. We often skirt around the subject in Christian circles. Not talking openly about it. If it's ever hinted at, it's either about rules surrounding the topic or pointing at the sin out there in the world. It's a sacred thing, to be sure. A gift given by God to be enjoyed between a husband and wife. It should not be treated lightly or played around with.  I mentioned in a previous blog that Geraldo made it clear on day one of our relationship that we were not going to have sex before we got married. I appreciated hearing his candor and commitment at the time. Despite hearing him, though, doubts have often played games in my head, partially because of how different we were raised. I was raised in what people call "the purity culture," with its rules of no kissing before you get married and courting being better than dating. Geraldo, on the other hand, wasn't saved until he was around 18. He didn't grow up hearing the rules I did. After becoming a Christian...

I knew it was coming. The proposal. Geraldo had been intentional and upfront with me from the first day. He didn't want to play around with my heart or his. I didn't want to date for the fun of it either, and after two months, I knew he was the answer to my years of praying for a husband. I knew when he had the ring, too, and waited anxiously for his proposal. "Please surprise me,"  I had told him, "But good luck, because it's hard to surprise me." He tried his best, but I picked up on enough hints to figure out when he would propose. The ruse was meeting my parents halfway for a picnic on the 4th of July weekend. My mom and I planned the menu and divided it up between us.  "Let's go an hour early," Geraldo said, "and walk around before your parents get there." "Sure," I replied. Hmm, that's probably when he'll propose , I thought. I had all the food ready on time,  dressed in my best, with my fingernails painted...

The end of August felt like anguish to me. It eerily reminded me of the difficult year I had in Mozambique. Everything swirling around me, like in a cyclone, one thing after another after another, making it hard to catch my breath. Earlier this year, my spring class focused on abiding in God, surrendering to Him, stepping aside, and letting Him live His life through me. It was such a beautiful thing. Truths I had heard before finally clicked. My favorite illustration from the class was that in the storms of life, focusing on God is like sitting in the eye of a storm, watching it swirl around you but unaffected by it. The summer storm built up slowly at first. My team leaders were gone. I hosted a 5-Day Club at the end of July. Midweek, our short-term lady arrived, and I started showing her the ropes. My team leaders returned, and we buckled down on preparations for our big Back-to-School picnic. Things were getting busier, like wind levels increasing. Then, the week before the big picn...

I sat down at the high-top table in a Greek diner to eat lunch with Geraldo. It was only a few weeks into our relationship. Looking across at him, I still couldn't believe I was in a relationship with him. "Why now?" I suddenly asked him between bites of food. "If you liked me from your first day in Small Group months ago and started learning more about me, what made you finally decide now was the time to say something?" "I thought you had kids," he said. "You what?!" I said, nearly choking on my food.  "I thought you had kids," he repeated, "and I was trying to figure out what had happened to your husband. Had he died or had you gotten divorced?" I stared at him in disbelief.  "What in the world made you think I had kids!?" I finally asked him. "Do you remember the first time I came to help out at Conversation Cafe?" he asked. I nodded yes. "You were sitting at a table with some kids, playing game...

January 19 - Part 2 Wait, was I actually in a relationship? For years, I had been asking God for a husband. In fact, when I turned 18, I said, "Okay, God, I'm old enough." But year after year, I waited. Sometimes patiently, sometimes satisfied with the life around me, but some days lacking contentment, not even knowing what it felt like to be in an official relationship.  After leaving Geraldo in the church parking lot,  I drove to the refugee home I had promised to visit, but I barely focused.   I couldn't believe I was in a relationship. As soon as I got back in my car after the refugee visit, I called my friend Sarah. "Are you home?" I asked her. I needed to rehash everything with her to verify whether it was real or not. What if I had misunderstood what Geraldo had said? He hadn't said anything about a relationship, or dating, or called me his girlfriend, or what was next, or when we would see each other again. "Yes, I'm home," Sarah re...

January 19 - Part 1 When I woke up the next morning after seeing Geraldo for the second time at the coffee shop, I continued with life as normal. It was Sunday, so I went to the 9:30 service at my church, as always. I sat in the same spot, as always. I saw Geraldo talking to someone in the foyer, but I made my way to my Sunday school class (Catalyst), as always. I was early to Catalyst, so I picked a seat between two girls to talk with them before the class started. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was Geraldo. I almost didn't answer my phone. I didn't want to. I don't know what compelled me to do it, but I answered. "Where are you?" he asked.  "In Catalyst," I replied. "Is that the class that guy invited me to?" "Yes," "I don't know where that is," he said, but I could hear it in his voice. He wanted to come, he wanted to see me, but he didn't know where the classroom was. I closed my eyes and sighed, "It's okay...

"Rachel, there was a new guy at Small Group last night!" Lydia told me the first week of October. "You should meet him!" "We'll see," I said with a shrug. I had given up on guys at that point. I had liked a guy months before who had just played with my heart. I had tried online dating but quit after two months. I decided that if God wanted me married, He'd have to throw someone in my lap. I wasn't going out of my way or holding out any wishful thinking anymore. I'd stay focused on ministry for the time being.  When I met Geraldo at Small Group the next week, I didn't pay much attention. He seemed like a nice enough addition to our Bible study group, solid in his faith in a lot of ways, but he said one thing I disagreed with about the prosperity gospel and Benny Hinn, so I wrote him off and carried on with life. Three months passed. Occasionally, Lydia would tease me about him, but I always told her I wasn't interested in him because...

"I feel like God made you an Oreo, only a backwards Oreo." I knit my eyebrow trying to follow my mom's line of thinking as I listened to her voice note. "He's got cream on two sides and the hard cookie in the middle," she continued, "As in, you're standing in the blueberry patch on Saturday just talking with Dad and suddenly this lady goes, 'Hey, I want to get your newsletter.' I mean, wow, cream, sweet cream. And then... a hard cookie." I laughed a bit sardonically as I realized where she was going, "There's a lot more layers to the 'Oreo' than that this week!" I replied. I was having a weird week and wasn't sure how to feel about it. Yes, God had given me several moments of sweet, delicious cream, but those moments of cream had been broken up by more than one hard thing. On Thursday, listening to my mom's message, I couldn't decide if the cream outweighed the hard or if the hard outweighed the cream...

The big week had finally arrived! I smiled in excitement as I thought about the 5-Day Club about to happen at the Welcome House. Several refugee families had been invited of mixed beliefs and backgrounds. I was also nervous. How would it go? Would anyone get offended? Angry? Keep their kids from coming? Or stop the 5-Day Club from happening? (A 5-Day Club is a ministry of CEF, a type of backyard Bible club with stories, songs, games, and memory verses) Day 1 As the CEF teachers walked toward the tree, one talkative little boy following in my shadow went on the defensive. He said his family doesn't believe in Jesus and asked something about God having a dad. I went on alert as I listened to him. This is exactly what I was nervous about. I wanted to navigate these conversations with respect for others but in a way that the Truth could still be proclaimed. "I know you don't believe in Jesus," I said as we walked into the shade of the tree. He seemed happy that I knew thi...

My ears perked up. The three men at the table across from me in the coffee shop had started talking about the Bible. My intentions of working on my historical fiction novel got pushed aside as I started eavesdropping on their conversation. Who were they? What were they saying about the Bible? The smartly dressed, white-haired gentleman facing me pulled up Romans 8 on his phone and read part of it to the young man sitting with his back to me. Intriguing. I love Romans 8. Was it a pastor mentoring a young man in his church?  Then came the revelation. The two older men facing me identified themselves as Jehovah's Witnesses. I should have known. But what about the young man with his back to me? Who was he? I could hear the older men quite well, they had louder voices directed towards me. But the young man had a softer voice and was facing away from me. I couldn't hear him very well. Concern for the young man grew in my heart. I know who Jehovah's Witnesses are. I know what they...

Why do I doubt and worry and stress? Because life can seem stressful at times, especially when it came to car and insurance shopping this past week. I know intellectually that God is faithful, yet I revealed my doubt in Him by stressing myself out with worry. I found out, it was completely unnecessary. My brother has been gracious enough to let me use his car while he finished his last year of college, but he graduates in a few weeks. My time to shop for a car was running short. What could I even afford in this current, inflated market? I stressed out about it last week. Then a gentleman from my new church called on Saturday, "I found a great car for you. A 2010 Subaru Forester in great condition and within your price range. You can go test drive it this afternoon." I felt elated! I even laughed on my way to look at the car. I had joked with my dad weeks ago that a Subaru would be a nice size (not too big and not too small for the ministry) but the chances of that happening w...

Tears streamed down my face and my body shook. I thought I was past all this. When was the last time I had one of these reactions? I didn't even realize I had trauma in this area to react to. Okay, I knew something was there, but I had never faced those feelings full-on before. What was the cause of this emotional turmoil? In one word: Church. I haven't had a real church family in a while now. I've been crying out to God about this, begging Him to give me community, a Christian fellowship, but He didn't answer my prayers. I tried small group after Bible study after book study and they kept falling through or not fitting quite right. Finally, when I started feeling settled in a church and in a small group, I knew it was only temporary because I would be moving to Metro Detroit and have to start all over again. Now that I'm in Metro Detroit for ministry, my first priority is on finding a church family to plug into. But that's the trigger point. Coincidentally, (as...

What was wrong with me? Why was I feeling this way? I lay awake in bed, eyes open, but seeing nothing because of the blackness of the night around me. "Something's wrong," I muttered. The next day I messaged my friend. "K-tee, I feel like something is wrong, or missing in my life... 😕 I feel weird, in a mood. Last night I almost wondered if there's something between me and God, or just lacking in my walk with Him..." Where was the evidence for this? What proof did I have to back up this feeling? Didn't I do my devotions every day? Hadn't I been praying? Wasn't I seeking to live in obedience to Him by leaving Mozambique and preparing to move to Detroit? The biggest evidence showed in my support raising, or rather, recent lack thereof. At first, I blamed this recent lack of effort in support raising on the jetlag from my trip to Mozambique. A seven-hour time difference, two days of travel, little sleep, and a jump from summer to winter is challeng...

I felt like Santa Claus during my first week back in Mozambique. I had packed a 48-pound suitcase full of gifts for my teammates and friends. I had fun handing them out and seeing the look of joy on their faces. I also gave away a lot of my stuff that I knew I wouldn't have space to bring back. Random odds and ends that I could bless my teammates with. Outwardly, it felt good to bless others because internally I was wrestling with a lot of emotions, questioning everything. Why did I have to leave this place? Why did I have to say goodbye to all these wonderful people? Why do I have to move to Detroit? While God didn't answer my questions, He reminded me to trust Him. This is the path He has me on right now. So I treasured each precious moment that He allowed me to have in Mozambique. I stayed with teammates Bruna and Vinicius for the first two weeks. I'm thankful for their warmth and hospitality despite the many challenges they were facing at the time. Small Group was one o...