I Surrender All

The Spanish version of I Surrender All echoed through the sanctuary of the Iquitos church this morning. I was immediately aware of how much I hold onto. Surrender is so hard. Sometimes it´s nearly impossible. Yet without it, God cannot pour His Spirit into my soul and fill me to overflowing.

In the weeks prior to coming to Peru this summer, the thing that God repeatedly impressed upon my heart was how often I pen Him up; I put Him in a box and tell Him to stay there, and when I need Him I´ll open up the box a little and let Him come out just enough to help me with whatever trouble I´m having at the time, after which I expect Him to sit quietly until another need arises. I prepared for this trip knowing that God was telling me to let Him out of the box and allow Him to be as big as He really is.

I have found myself laughing out loud several times a day during the week that I have been here, because God is showing me repeatedly that He is larger than I can imagine or hope for. Take my knowledge of Spanish, for example. I was very nervous about being here without anyone else who speaks the language to help me, but I´ve known from the beginning that I was truly on my own this time. Now, in years past I have talked about moments of possessing supernatural Spanish, but this time is different - it is not just supernatural, it is downright miraculous. I have become a sponge, soaking up vocabulary and sentence structure and verb tenses. Each time I finish a conversation (not a sentence, but an entire conversation) with Villa or Ina, I burst into laughter knowing that it was not me who just spoke; it was a tangible expression of God unleashed.

Those of you who were children/teenagers of the 80´s will be interested to know that Rod Stewart´s Young Turks is playing right now in the internet cafe. Man does this song bring back memories!

To all of you dads out there who are reading, Feliz Dia Papá! I wished my dad a Happy Father´s Day earlier in the week because I was pretty sure I would not have the chance to call home today.

I am not the least bit homesick; in fact, I´ve never felt more at home here. Nevertheless, I had my first cry last night after I talked with my brother, Brad, and my surrogate child, Collins on the phone. It´s not that I wanted to be in the States with them as much as I wished they were here with me. It is a strange range of emotions that I am experiencing. The only thing I know for sure is that, while I will be ready to come home at the end of July, leaving here is going to be excruciatingly painful.

The duo that is here this week from First Presbyterian, Sumter, SC will begin construction on a new roof for the church in Quistococha tomorrow. They have been delightful to host and very easy to accomodate.

Nathan has stepped into the role of intern like he was born for it. He and I were meant to work together. We share a love for Iquitos and the Peruvian people, and we are both motivated to see AMF get on its feet and be a meaninful ministry.

I´m trying so hard not to laugh out loud right now because the guy sitting next to me is actually singing, in English, Hall & Oates´80´s song Maneater. How funny...

For now I must go. Afterall, it is Sunday afternoon, and I firmly believe in ´siestas todos los domingos!´

Until later...