65 MPH
winds in el paso and juarez today are 65 mph. because we live in the desert it looks like we are walking through a sand box that a tornado is ripping through. you can't see the mtns. through the sand and walking 10ft. is tedious. it's terrible outside. i write this as i sit inside at my desk with my cup of coffee listening to some new tunes. it's ripping at my heart to be so comfortable right now when people i love aren't.
i try to spend time with God every morning before i go to work. today i was too busy sleeping late and figuring out which shirt matched better to have that time. i made breakfast and walked out to my truck to face the howling winds. about 15 steps from one shelter to the next. i didn't have time for God this morning because frankly, i didn't NEED Him. the walls of my house weren't in a battle with the wind to remain standing and my fridge isn't empty. i have a feeling a lot of families in MX spent this morning very different than me. i have a feeling that this morning especially, families woke up and went straight to their knees to be with God. begging Him that He would provide for the food they need. begging Him that the walls of their cardboard and pallet house wouldn't crash in on them. begging that the deafening noise of the howling wind threatening everything they have would stop.
i know houses will blow down today. there's no way some of those structures of cardboard and slats of wood can withstand this. i'm wrestling with a lot in my heart right now as the doors continue to bang and objects that once stood solid have become projectiles. i'm wrestling with my own comforts and the difference of the faithful that i serve and myself. aren't i the one going to Juarez to teach them about Jesus? it seems more and more they are teaching me. i'm learning to trust God as i sit here helpless; a small force in this whirlwind. i can't block the wind. i can't stop it from taking out someones house. i can rest in knowing the families we've built for have solid homes now and aren't worried about losing all they have. but i cannot stop these gusts for the others. i can only trust in God the same as i am telling them to, and then wrestle to understand if the houses come crashing down. in this we are all the same. helpless, outside of God.
i stared outside speechless trying to figure out how to capture a picture of what is surrounding us. what i realized is that there's no way to take a picture of the wind; you can only capture the effects of it. funny, that's exactly the same as faith.
i try to spend time with God every morning before i go to work. today i was too busy sleeping late and figuring out which shirt matched better to have that time. i made breakfast and walked out to my truck to face the howling winds. about 15 steps from one shelter to the next. i didn't have time for God this morning because frankly, i didn't NEED Him. the walls of my house weren't in a battle with the wind to remain standing and my fridge isn't empty. i have a feeling a lot of families in MX spent this morning very different than me. i have a feeling that this morning especially, families woke up and went straight to their knees to be with God. begging Him that He would provide for the food they need. begging Him that the walls of their cardboard and pallet house wouldn't crash in on them. begging that the deafening noise of the howling wind threatening everything they have would stop.
i know houses will blow down today. there's no way some of those structures of cardboard and slats of wood can withstand this. i'm wrestling with a lot in my heart right now as the doors continue to bang and objects that once stood solid have become projectiles. i'm wrestling with my own comforts and the difference of the faithful that i serve and myself. aren't i the one going to Juarez to teach them about Jesus? it seems more and more they are teaching me. i'm learning to trust God as i sit here helpless; a small force in this whirlwind. i can't block the wind. i can't stop it from taking out someones house. i can rest in knowing the families we've built for have solid homes now and aren't worried about losing all they have. but i cannot stop these gusts for the others. i can only trust in God the same as i am telling them to, and then wrestle to understand if the houses come crashing down. in this we are all the same. helpless, outside of God.
i stared outside speechless trying to figure out how to capture a picture of what is surrounding us. what i realized is that there's no way to take a picture of the wind; you can only capture the effects of it. funny, that's exactly the same as faith.
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