week.[6.six.and.a.half.1/2].and.THEN.some.

Well, I'm learning that it's not always a good thing to share a play-by-play of everything God is showing me, with everyone, all the time. I think sometimes the most beautiful parts of our relationship with the Lord are those private conversations between just Him and oneself. Some of the most beautiful [and trying] times in our relationship with Him are those times when we must wrestle with a decision alone...in front of Him...without outside opinion. {Yes, even without the good, Christian counsel of our loved ones} And then finally God asks us to make a choice before Him alone...before we know for sure if anyone will stand behind us in our decision. Those are the best times.


Plus, that way when you change your mind about something---or God reveals NEW, wonderful revelation to you---you haven't put yourself in a situation where you then have to explain your "change of heart" to 35 of your closest friends via email. oops.


The past two months of my life have been an adventure: a Dominican adventure and a new chapter in my relationship with the Lord. Yet, recounting my final week in the DR, I am realizing, isn't really accomplishing anything other than my deep [and misguided] need to share my 'accomplishments' and experiences that make me feel like an 'exciting' and [consequently] worthwhile, Christian. That is striving and spiritual immaturity on my part, but I'm learning. In all reality, telling you about the prisons, and translating, and plantains, and the friends I made, and the freezing cold showers...I know it makes for great reading. For the past 2 months even I would get a little excited on "Update Days" as I typed out the week's happenings and waited eagerly for the email replies I would receive from you all. But for the 6 days in between "Update Day" every week, I was on my own--living a strange, unfamiliar, and relatively lonely life. And [regardless of how much you care about me and how I'm doing] you all have your own lives here at home to think about, and probably thought about me for 20 minutes a week as you sat down to read my weekly email, and forgot about me until the next Thursday. I want to add: that is perfectly alright and understandable! 


And it made me think, "If I wasn't sharing my experiences with people back at home, if no one witnessed what I'm doing in the DR, if they didn't encourage me and praise me every week, would it be enough? If the only one who saw and cared about what I'm doing is God, do I still want to do it?" 


At this moment, I don't know if I would.


The day before I arrived in SD, I received an email asking me if I would be willing to accept a job opportunity at the Chiropractic Center for Healthy Living in Mitchell, upon coming home. It is a temporary, 4-8 week, full-time receptionist job with some employee perks. I took it! After 17 turned down job applications in the fall, the Lord's hand was undoubtedly in this. I arrived back to the US on a Thursday, and went into work on Monday. It's providing financial resources I desperately need. It's a huge answer to prayer. {Remember when I said I would NOT be looking for a job? Well...I didn't!}


The Lord also gave me another gift upon coming home: A NEW HEART. 


I'll be honest: when I decided to stay in the DR after 9 days in November, it was as much to run away from something as it was to go toward something new. There has always been a part of me that resented the fact that I was born in small-town South Dakota. There's nothing extraordinary about Mitchell. Living in your parents' basement doesn't exactly qualify as an adventure. I didn't brag to everyone I met that I have held down the same job at the pool every summer since I graduated high school. And I was NOT going to find a local boyfriend and eventually become a farmer's wife! It was a far too humble life for my taste.


Then I got home last week. 


Want to know something extraordinary about Mitchell? I can't go ANYWHERE in town without running into someone I know. And we make small-talk...in English. It's a town full of people I love and who care about me. I have a car in Mitchell and people follow traffic laws, it only takes 15 minutes to cross town, and I've never have to ride side-saddle on a moped in a skirt on Foster Ave. I can wear earrings, pants, or mascara at work with a clear conscience before God and men and without anyone questioning my faith. Also, my parents' adventure-less basement is also free, comes with hot water, memories, laundry machine, my puppy, and a family I'm absolutely crazy about. Oh yeah--I got that old, familiar summer job back with a 2 sentence email because I have a great relationship with my old boss. And, well, I haven't gotten very far with the boyfriend-thing.


I've never felt peace like this. I never could have anticipated I would feel like this upon coming back to SD. I have fallen in love with home, for the first time. And it's not because I'm afraid of life on the mission field. God's just showing me that He already put me in a mission field...[at least for now]...where I already know the culture and language. Where I look like everyone else, I see the world in the same way, and I have a history with the people. Where I can walk confidently with my Lord and Savior without having to be half way around the world, in the midst of an adventure "on the mission field." Where life is blessed but I don't have to feel guilty about it. Where I don't have to prove how Christian I am by moving to a foreign country and disowning my blessed, privileged life in the US. 


I didn't know how much He had changed my heart, until I went back home--and though everything was different--nothing had changed but me. 


In the meantime, I am on the mission field. And I'm at peace with the 'boring', 'ordinary' life I'm leading.


Thanks for walking with me. It is so good to be back.

week.[{SIES}]

Week 6! Soon I will be in my parent’s house, cuddling with my puppy, avoiding the cold, and once again partaking in hot showers. I’m not sure how I feel about it yet, to be honest.

This week flew by with a ton of activities and obligations. Last Thursday night was Wascar’s 29^th birthday—so we got to go to a surprise party for him which was really fun!  Actually, that night Wascar thought he was walking Kristin and I to a friend’s house because it was late at night (which I’m sure really annoyed him, as it was his birthday…haha!) and when we arrived he was met with a loud, “Surprise!!” and a bunch of confetti… that also managed to find a semi-permanent home in my hair and scalp for the rest of the week. Can you say—‘really awkward dandruff’??? Other than that, it was a really fun chance for me to get to spend time outside of church with the young adults in Hato Mayor. Kristin and I were really excited to eat some birthday cake, but to our dismay, when the women came out of the kitchen with the plates, they were full of yucca, spaghetti with corn, and some boiled plantains. I politely (and disappointedly) declined. When it comes to birthday party food, I think I could teach the people here a lot. I’m afraid my mom generally set the bar for birthdays way too high.

Friday passed pretty uneventfully. It was laundry day, but laundry has gotten easier for me since arriving here—partly because my little wrists are getting stronger…and partly because my definition of “acceptably-clean-enough-to-wear-again” clothes has become a lot less strict. Like, a lot less strict.

On Saturday the madness began! A large number of Pastor Carlos’ church loaded into the two big trucks and set off for the first prayer march around the prison in El Seibo. The prayer walk itself was incredible. It truly feels like living out a Bible story…the whole time I was thinking about how Joshua’s followers at Jericho must have felt as they walked around the city walls. We had a group of around 60-75 people and first we marched around the entire city block that circles the prison. We prayed both silently and aloud for God to break the spiritual barriers and walls that have set themselves up against His presence in the prison. We prayed for the hearts of the prisoners, the guards, and of anyone we might come in contact with over the course of this restoration, to be receptive to God’s message of salvation and love for them. After we circled the block, we went inside the outer walls of the prison to circle the building itself. On each side of the rectangular building, we stopped and laid hands against the walls of which the men sleep every night. Every once in a while, when I would open my eyes, I could see men struggling to see through the grated windows of their sleeping area, trying to see what all the commotion outside was about. Little did they know we are praying for their souls!!! God is so big. To end, we all formed a prayer circle outside the front doors of the prison and prayed again. Near the end, one of the men from the prison—the “jefe” or boss, as we were told, of the prisoners—was allowed to be released from the prison to ask for prayer from our group. How could a thing like that happen without the power of the living God?! I can’t wait to go back tomorrow for round 2 around the prison. The plan is to march 7 times around the walls just like the Israelites did at Jericho. Can’t wait to tell you all how it goes!

After the march at Seibo, Kristin and I made our way back home with Chappy and his wife Sandee (Chappy is the founder and leader of MOTE, the prison ministry here in the DR, and they are from San Diego). They live in a city called Boca Chica in a beautiful house with the cutest little poodle mix, Gabriel, and the most high-tech security system I have seen in the DR (they were robbed at gunpoint a few months ago). Despite being in a new place again, I was so blessed by the rest that we got to have at their house. You know the best part? We got to make our own food. And it was the best kind—wraps and smoothies and sandwiches. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, the way Carlos and Teresa have taken care of me here in Hato Mayor is incredible, but it has left me very dependent and without a lot of freedom. I eat three times a day, but I don’t pick “what” and I don’t pick “when.” And there have definitely been no midnight Doritos runs.

Staying with them, apart from the food and hot showers, provided such a time of reflection and direction and Christian community. You’d be amazed how spiritually hungry you can still be, going to church four times a week! Sandee and Chappy’s encouragement, love, mentorship, advice, and laughter was exactly what I needed this weekend. I have asked Chappy to pray about the possibility of taking me on as an ‘intern’ of sorts with MOTE (the prison ministry) starting this spring. We are waiting to see if the Holy Spirit leads. That’s all I can do with that.

On Sunday night, Chappy dropped Kristin and I off at a ministry called SCORE in Juan Dolio. SCORE has a compound that takes short-term mission groups and sets them up with work here in the Dominican Republic. They cater mostly to sports teams and medical mission teams, and have long-term missionaries living at their compound as well. Kristin was asked to be a coordinator for translators (finding and bringing them to SCORE) and I went along to help her. Little did I know, for the next three days I would be translating for the medical team as well in the communities and prisons! I worked with the pharmacy and physical therapy teams, and I am officially a translator. And I met some of the best people, that I am now happy to call my friends. My experiences this week are spurring me on to study like crazy when I get back to the US.

I truly can’t explain how amazing it felt to feel useful after spending nearly 2 months in Hator Mayor, never being asked to do anything. This week has turned a new (and much-awaited) chapter in my work here in the Dominican and the potential ministry I can see myself having here. When I come back (yep, she just said ‘when’ folks) I know that I will not be staying with Pastor Carlos—and I believe, being the good leader that he is, he would not allow me to either. I have gotten a taste of independence and freedom this week, and it is almost painful being back up in my bunk bed today. It’s growth and change and sometimes it doesn’t feel good! And though I don’t know for certain what lies ahead for me, I do know what doesn’t.

As I wrap up this update, I feel uneasy. I know the feelings I have in my heart—the promptings of the Holy Spirit and the awareness I now have of God’s hand in my circumstances—but I am hesitant to put them in writing. Too hesitant to claim them. Too prideful and afraid of being wrong. I think, “Kayla, what if you tell everyone and it doesn’t work out and you look like an idiot? A dreamer? A naïve, little do-gooder?” “What if the money doesn’t come? You can’t explain your ministry?”  

God’s word tells me that He gives me a spirit of power and self-control, not of timidity or fear. “For God has not given us a spirit of fear or timidity, but of power, love and self-discipline.” 2 Timothy 1:7. So I’m just going to say it: I feel like I’m going to be back in the DR already this spring, working with Kristin, Chappy, and Carlos, finding opportunities to translate, and fumbling my way through life here. I am not going to look for a job when I get home, so please don’t ask me how my job hunt is coming along. The thought of raising support and refinancing my loans makes me want to throw up. The most valuable items I own to my name and can sell for cash are my laptop and a P90X video series. Lord that is depressing. I don’t know how it’s all going to work out. But I know I can’t go back home, get a job, and forget how I have felt for the last two months. I say this because I need to be held accountable. Because when I am home and comfortable and settling back into life I need you to come along side me and say, “Kayla…remember when you said ____?”

Because I know my own heart and its capacity to forget God’s voice.

Thanks, you guys. God bless you all.

kayla

week.[CINCO]!

Wow! I haven’t had to write 2011 on anything yet! The "new year" feels weird, and yet very, very appropriate.

I sit here this morning curled up on the floor with Kristin’s beloved laptop on my lap listening to the sound of winter rain on the rooftop. My friend Kristin left me on the 1^st, and now that she is back, I can assuredly say I missed her much more than her computer (but I sure missed the Internet)! That said, I apologize to anyone for not returning emails, but last night when I logged onto Hotmail I had 47 emails in my Inbox. Really that means I won’t be answering my emails. Sorry.

Last Thursday night, Kristin, Jayne, Garryl & I spent our last night debriefing together in the Dominican Republic. On Friday we woke up relatively early to eat breakfast together, pack up their things, and take off in a van with Pelile, our driver, to the airport. Our conversation on the way was certainly anointed by God, and we all said our goodbyes with a clearer picture of God’s vision for us as individuals for the future. We all truly feel that Jayne and Garryl were being sent back to the US as missionaries to their own communities and Kristin and I were able to see a more tangible future for ministry here in the DR. In all honesty, I can’t believe how much I grew to love that couple in one, short week. I have started to experience what it feels like to “fall in love in the Spirit” and I can truly say that I love them. The good I want for them is almost indescribable and gives me a glimpse of the good our Heavenly Father must have in mind for us. I think that when I return to the US, I will be spending a few weeks with Jayne and Garryl in Minnesota as I finish Restoration videos and talk with Kristin about what we’re going to do next! J

As we got back from the airport, Kristin and I didn’t have a lot of time before we left for the church service being held at CC Shalom for New Year’s Eve. The service lasted from 8:00pm-12midnight and we brought in the New Year with singing, a message, and a GIGANTIC group hug (or “hug group” as Carlos mistakenly called it at first…haha)! At midnight everyone broke the group hug and began running around to hug everyone. As I was hugged by nearly everyone in the church, I couldn’t help but feel like I was home. Like these people are my family, and I’m perhaps just the Fed-ex man’s kid. Even the people here who don’t normally talk to me get sad looks on their faces when I tell them that I am leaving on the 20^th. I knew someone would miss me here when I’m gone!

On the 1^st, Kristin left for Boca Chica with Sandee and Chappy (who came to visit for the New Year’s Eve service and spent the night at Carlos’ place). We all had a great all-morning conversation out in the Tiki Hut—which was great because once the team left we haven’t had a lot of opportunities to just sit and fellowship out there and I miss it. I gave Kristin a hug goodbye on Saturday, fully expecting to see her on Monday morning to work at SCORE with the translators, but it turned out that God had other plans for me...

On Sunday morning, I really felt like God was telling me that I needed to just shut myself up in my room for a couple of days; that He needed all of my attention because I get distracted so easily. As I explained to a semi-concerned and confused Pastor Carlos that I was going to lock myself in my bedroom until Wednesday and not work with SCORE that week, I began wondering what in the world God was going to show me on top of what He’s already been saying to me here. Last week’s letter alluded to things that God is changing in my heart—and I will just briefly list some of the things He’s been telling me: this is a time of rebuilding for me, a time of restoration (like if God’s going to use me to help people, He has to build me up on a solid foundation first), practicing long-suffering and patience, He’s only giving me little bites at a time but this is certainly not the end of my time in the DR, and if He showed me what He really has planned for me (not only am I not ready yet, but) I would run away because it would be too much to handle. As I begin to practice taking thoughts captive, my dreams—kind of unpleasant ones—are intensifying and I am being woken up in the middle of the night to be attacked while I am still groggy and not thinking clearly. Damn that devil. I also am not sure that if I’m going to be able to come back to the US and wear makeup or jewelry or (let’s be honest) half of the clothes in my closet. These last 3 days in particular I learned about temptation, secret sin, unforgiveness, and the danger of trying to be my own savior by following the rules TOO well. Obviously I had nothing to learn, right? Wowza. Still I feel as if something in my heart is “bottle-necking” the plans and love God has for me. Something has started to break open this morning, but I don’t have my mind wrapped enough around it to explain yet. Maybe next week!

As I’ve reflected on my updates leading up to this week, I realize that the longer I’m here the more internal God’s work is becoming in me. Also, the more boring externally these newsletters must be getting for all of you. Sorry! As far as actual ACTION is concerned, I am convinced that I am the very worst missionary. I am sorry. Janell, all of your pictures still sit in my drawer. Laura, I still have your son’s picture in my binder and it has not moved (nor has the container from customs). After my “better ask for forgiveness than permission” solo-run a few weeks ago, I am more confined than Jacobina in this compound. Sometimes I stumble into Teresa’s kitchen asking her if I can help her with something, and she always says, “No, I do…” and shoos me away politely. Maybe I should be more honest and starting yelling, “Teresa, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME GO SIT IN THAT BUNKBED BY MYSELF ANYMORE!” I have been studying Spanish a lot lately…as a matter of fact, this week I watched the Lion King, Freedom Writers, and CSI in Spanish ;)

It seems that 2 months in Hator Mayor is just long enough to wear out your welcome before making friends with people who stop by just to visit you. No one tells you about the in-between missionary. You know, after you’ve been welcomed and waited on and the honeymoon is over, and everyone goes back to their own families and jobs and lives and you’re left with just enough time to realize that you don’t have any of those things here. It doesn’t really feel like an adventure—more like house arrest with really bad TV. That said, I truly love Carlos and Natasha and Teresa, and I love being here. I love them. I just don’t love that they have a life here that—no matter how hard I try—I can’t seem to weasel my way into full-time.

Please continue praying for me! As my time here draws quickly to a close, I have a lot of thoughts going around in my head and it’s easy to start worrying about the future. In particular, I’m thinking about going to MN and finishing the Restoration DVDS while staying with Jayne and Garryl, refinancing my school loans, raising support, considering language school, and picking up odd jobs to get some money in the meantime. I don’t know how people who don’t know God do it! I know Him and have experienced His providence, and some days I still just want to stick my head in the sand.

What’s next?

week.{CUATRO}

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

What a whirlwind my life seems to be. Sometimes I find myself far too busy living it to find time to sit and write it down. Typing up this letter is truly an act of discipline this afternoon. I hope you all had a warm, meaningful Christmas with those you love—and I hope you had a chance to thank your Father for His gift, His Son, who gives us life everlasting if we believe in and follow Him.

 It seems this week was a kick-off for Stage Two of God’s plan for me here—Operation Fledgling: Kayla Flies Solo.

As I mentioned in my last letter, Kristin’s friends Jayne and Garryl (a couple from her home church in Minnesota) came to stay with us for a week starting last Thursday. Due to an unfortunate miscommunication from Spanish to English, Kristin and I arrived at the airport to greet them 3 hours early…but if you think people watching at the Sioux Falls mall is fun, you should spend a few hours in the Santo Domingo airport! I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I met Jayne and Garryl (who were much younger and prettier than I had imagined) and left the airport with them wondering why in the world my path was crossing with this couple in the middle of the Dominican Republic. I will admit that I wasn’t overjoyed at the thought of sharing my one and only friend with them for the week…but God is powerful. And He is good. And He always has a plan.

It didn’t take more than a day for Garryl and Jayne to begin speaking prophetic words to me. They told me that God is tearing down walls in my life to rebuild me in this time. “But Zion said, ‘The Lord has forsaken me, the Lord has forgotten me.’ ‘Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands, your walls are ever before me.” Isaiah 49: 14-16. They spoke out of Isaiah, Zephaniah, and Zechariah (I can’t seem to turn my Bible past Isaiah these days). They told me that my work will be long, and God is teaching me patience. WOW! Remember: these are complete strangers!  They confirmed that I need to talk more with Chappy and his ministry here in the prisons of the Dominican Republic. They prayed for me and ministered to me and took time to listen to my scattered thoughts and feelings. God has humbled my simple, prideful heart through them and I am going to be sad when they leave tomorrow.

December 25^th this year was the strangest Christmas I have ever experienced. We ate our grand meal on Christmas Eve, so while Carlos took Kristin and her friends on a tour of Centro Cristiano Shalom’s ministry in Hato Mayor, I spent a really fun day in the kitchen with Teresa and Nati. We made a giant turkey with oranges inside (they think putting stuffing in the bird is gross) and a potato/apple salad with rice and beans. We had a few little candies for dessert, but in all honesty, they tasted like children’s grape flavored Benadryl medicine. Let’s just say I didn’t indulge very much in dessert this year! To give Carlos and Teresa a break, we took care of our own meals and let them have the day as a family. We made a big brunch and supper later that day, but nothing special. Only with the Holy Spirit could four strangers like us spend a relaxing, enjoyable Christmas day doing absolutely nothing but talking, cooking, worshipping, and playing dominoes. Christmas night we invited Carlos’ family and some people from church to watch the Nativity Story movie with us outside with a sheet and projector out on the basketball court. It was a chilly night, but the story was powerful and afterwards we sang some carols in Spanish and English by candlelight. Simple and calm. I did not miss one bit of the hustle and bustle of Christmas time at home—only my family.

On Sunday, the day after Christmas, the entire congregation went out to the new land to spend a day playing, relaxing, and worshipping the Lord! I can’t tell you all how clean and beautiful the facility looks already since we saw it in November. Much still needs to be done, but every square foot was filled with people playing volleyball, basketball, baseball, flying kites, sitting and talking, running, and playing dominoes. It was so fun to see the people from church in a different setting—like they were becoming “real” people to me.  Along with Pastor Carlos, Jose Miguel (the man who always stood in front at church, clapping with a lot of gusto…gray hair…raspy voice…chubby) seems to see himself as my father here, and he is always one of the first people to hug me and ask me how I’m doing when he sees me. He also seems to have taken it upon himself to teach me how to play dominoes (and win). So far that’s only resulted in me losing ridiculously to Pastor Rudolfo, Pablo (Kilo 16), and the other men. I think they tolerate me because I smile a lot and they are afraid of Pastor Carlos.

OH yes! And I almost forgot, Sunday the Holy Spirit began to move in me. Much to my dismay, it manifested itself in sobs…I bawled like a baby…and I didn’t even know why I was crying. For those of you who don’t know me that well yet, I hate crying. And the only thing I hate worse is crying in public. On Sunday, I was absolutely soaked in sweat because I was trying so hard to hold back the tears. I was a sweaty, swollen-faced mess. Instead of ‘La Americana’ I am now ‘La Loca!’ Even if I could have explained in English why I was crying (which I couldn’t have) the poor, sweet people who dared to ask me what was wrong only walked away very confused as I could only look at them and shrug my shoulders. The crying didn’t stop on Sunday though, and actually my eyes are still a little swollen from tears this morning. I’m trying to embrace this new wave of the Spirit in my life. Now that it’s been happening for nearly a week, I truly think that the Spirit is cleaning me, building a new altar for the Lord in my heart, and I am grieving things of my old-self that I am not even consciously aware are being stripped away...but okay—enough psycho-babble!

On Monday I left on my own—without Kristin, Jayne, and Garryl—to go to a camp in La Romana with a bunch of people from Pastor Carlos’ church for a retreat of sorts. I packed a pillow, skirts for 4 days, and all my insecurities and set off in the bus hoping for the best. The things that God revealed to me are very personal in nature, and I’m not sure that everyone would benefit if I shared them, so I won’t. I will however tell you that I made good friends, taught some kids how to float/swim, I learned more Spanish, played dominoes, I struck out on my own, made myself uncomfortable, was made uncomfortable, felt the touch of the Holy Spirit, saw physical demonic activity, took a shower in a bucket, played my guitar, ate too much food, reached the end of what I thought I could handle, (was taken a little bit further), and received personal words from the Lord. We just got home today and I truly feel like I’m “home.” I feel cared for as an individual, like people see me, and I am soaking wet with the rain of the Holy Spirit. Guys, I really feel like I am home. If you’re interested to hear a little more about what the Lord is speaking to me, I’ll try and elaborate a little more in a personal email. I am still waiting for a clearer vision from God for what steps to take next, but Garryl’s words are ringing in my ears, “Your work here is long. God is teaching you patience. You are going to need patience.” I think that means my work here, in Hato Mayor, is long.

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! We will be bringing in the New Year celebrating and praising at church tomorrow night! I hope you all have a chance to give your next year to the Lord!