Little Girl

Lord Jesus, there's so much pain in this world
As I look into the eyes of this starving little girl
Who doesn't have a father, a mother or a friend
Whose only four years old, but nearly reaching her end
And Lord Jesus when I see her, I can't help but see
The Man on the cross staring back at me
This is what it means to love the least of these
And I don't know who else will go, but Jesus please send me
Because that was me, I was that little girl
Naked, hungry and lost with only one prayer in this world
But as soon as I said it, You were quick to save
And it took the blood of perfection, but You freely gave
And I'm so moved by Your love and moved by Your grace
That I'll help every child in this world just to catch a glimpse of Your face
You're worthy of so much more, but all I have is one life
But I'll lay it down for You, this I vow tonight.
Amen.

Brandon Michael

January 13th, 2008

Be

You know, we try to make our lives about a lot of things. For whatever reason, we often feel like we need to force things and make it work. We formulate these ideas in our heads about who we are, what we do and why our lives are significant. In so many ways, I’ve fallen into this over the last however long and it certainly hasn’t been the first time I’ve found myself in this useless striving. Lord, help me to stop doing this to myself.

Call it an identity crisis, call it image management, call it what you will, this is something that I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember. This inclination probably picked up the most steam in high school. There is so much need for godly adults to be active in the lives of our youth, because I’ve seen this search in the states and I see it here in Tanzania as well. They are searching for identity and want to define themselves by what they do. I was the epitome of this. I wanted to be a skater. I wanted to be known as a skater. I sucked at skating. Even what little natural talent I had was severely overshadowed by my lack of gall (to keep it G-rated) due to fear of hurting myself. I would skate, but never progressed much. I instead grabbed the camera, stuck with my crew and wore the right threads. They have a word for what I was in the skating community, a poser. The truth hurts. I also went through this phase where I wanted to listen to the cool music, which to many “popular” kids (which in high school means “more valuable” kids) was punk music. I started to act as though that was what I liked. I listened to MxPx as a kid and that was my “in.” That was only one band though, I needed more. People needed to know that I liked the right bands. I had to convince people I do the right things. First I had to convince myself though. I actually remember writing in my personal journal (I don’t dare call it a diary, although it essentially was) that I was now into New Found Glory and Relient K. Ouch, there’s a confession for you. The truth is more pathetic than if it were actually true that I liked those bands. The truth is I had never listened to those bands, I just heard from a friend that they were cool. I have long since listened to them a little and I, in fact, strongly dislike their sound. So much of my high school was spent trying to convey an image surrounded by the things that I’m into and the things that I do.

I wish that I could say that upon leaving my adolescence behind, I became secure in who I am. The truth is though, I just found new masks to put on and the façade became more subtle. I truly went to deeper levels with the Lord in college and as I settled into who He was shaping me into, I found new ways to perform in front of others. In a group, I’ll tune out while you’re praying so that I can plan my own prayer that will blow everyone away. At church, I’ll volunteer for a bunch of stuff so that everyone will see my servant’s heart. I’ll sing the right songs in worship and close my eyes so you all know that I’m being intimate with the Lord. I’ll speak up in conversations so that people realize how wise I am. You get the point. Now I don’t want to discredit the Lord, because the truth is that in all those things, He would put my heart in the right places at times and it was worship to Him. But I couldn’t pretend as though there wasn’t this desire to perform in front of others weaved through it as well.

A Farewell To Blogs... For Now

I am now entering the twelfth and final month of my first year as a full time missionary in Tanzania. This has been a wild year to say the least and you could catch that from reading the previous blogs on this page. The emotional highs and lows have left me a bit exhausted by this time of the year and the emotions and struggles of the last few weeks have possibly been the hardest yet. I'm living in this tension where I know that the Lord is using me and I see His will unfolding in my life, yet I’m perhaps more self-aware than I can ever remember being; that’s in regards to my position in life and my personal sin issues. I have been reflective lately to say the least.

To be honest, I’ve felt quite under attack lately. Its sometimes hard to put a finger on where a spiritual attack comes from because the forces are invisible and yet the Bible is clear that that is where the battle is (Ephesians 6:12). This has manifested itself in multiple areas of my life. There has been a growing discouragement coming against me that has been very disheartening. The feelings of frustration and restlessness that I’ve shared recently tie into this and I realize that these are not merely mental, but spiritual as well.  It has also manifested in the physical realm. I’m not the guy that finds a demon in every stubbed toe and hangnail, but it would be foolish to think that our adversary wouldn’t want to attack us through our health, when disease is such a prominent result of the fall. So this weekend, I got malaria for the first time. I almost made it through the year without it, but nope. Its worse than worms, I'll tell you that much. I was sick for all of Friday, complete with vomit, body aches, weakness, soreness and nausea. Lame. Furthermore, I've felt attacked mentally as some ungodly thoughts have made their way into my mind somehow and I recognize its not from me, but the enemy attacking me in my flesh. Yeah, its been rough. I could really use your prayers.

Numbers

A couple weeks ago, I was hurrying to get to ICC. One thing had led to another that particular morning and now I was late. You’d think I would have known by this point that there is no such thing as “late” in Tanzania. I was to lead worship and got there right when we start at 10 o’clock. There was just about no one there. There was no one up on the outside platform we meet on and when I went by our building, I was greeted by another elder, Evelyn, who told me that there wouldn’t be too many people at church today because the Fountain of Hope students had gone on break. A few minutes later as we started worship, I was on stage with two others, the percussionist and a backup singer. There were four people in the seats. That turned to 14-15 by the end of worship, but not exactly the turn-out you would typically expect or hope for.

I’m struggling with this notion of numbers. We typically lean towards this idea that bigger is better or if one is good, two is better and so forth. The last couple weeks at ICC is starkly contrasted by my recent listening ear to the Mariners Church- Mission Viejo pod casts. Probably my favorite preacher (if that’s allowed) Mike Erre has become the lead pastor at that church. If you know of Mariners, you know that it is a mega-church. Its huge. Does that qualify them as the better church?

Though this instance highlights the issue, my struggle with numbers isn’t necessarily that my sermons or worship sessions at ICC only account for upwards of 20 people or so. That may be a part of it, but I’m noticing it play out in other areas of my life that are potentially closer to my heart. One being my writing. I recently found something that I guess Blogger started doing back in the summer. They keep your stats for you. This could be the end of my ego or more likely a bigger feeder into it. I just happen to know that since they started keeping the stats in July, I’ve had over 4,200 hits on my blog. Now undoubtedly, some of those are my own views and I’m willing to bet that most of the people that go to my blog don’t bother to read my flippin’ long posts (I can’t say I blame them). Thus, the number of hits really shouldn’t boost my ego, however in my own vanity, my ego will probably take it.