tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48033780032608097182024-02-20T23:36:21.962-08:00The Road to MaturityI'm just a girl. But I love Jesus, and this is my story of how He's still shaping me.lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-70033949809010876692015-11-08T03:00:00.003-08:002015-11-08T03:03:01.361-08:00The Marital Adjustment<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil7waf00RcLgoF1fXbSVaDoTjjlE_rAQJwsJ49pmpYggcPUX-Sr4SZcl4SP-vbXQIE_JymmXe6Shcw3Zl1i6TOkQsXzMS9euZ3oKk60c4R5c19hExyocXjSLD8DxXfvs5uPdB6aQjE4N4/s1600/11250072_970549166308955_4142544759458722908_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil7waf00RcLgoF1fXbSVaDoTjjlE_rAQJwsJ49pmpYggcPUX-Sr4SZcl4SP-vbXQIE_JymmXe6Shcw3Zl1i6TOkQsXzMS9euZ3oKk60c4R5c19hExyocXjSLD8DxXfvs5uPdB6aQjE4N4/s320/11250072_970549166308955_4142544759458722908_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In just a couple of weeks, Honza and I will celebrate our six-month anniversary. My, how the months have flown by! This past half-year has been an adventure, filled with joys and triumphs, illness and struggle, love and intimacy, conflict and repentance. What a beautiful six months so far!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I remember hearing a quote long ago, that getting married reveals how selfish you really are... and even though I'm still a novice in the marriage field, I can agree wholeheartedly! Marriage is a unique bond, wherein we've promised to be together for the <i>rest of our lives</i> (whether 2 or 62 more years!): to care for the other when they're sick, to love each other even when it's difficult, to embrace and forgive after a fight. Marriage strips away our pretenses, and reveals what lies underneath: selfishness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">For me, one of the greatest adjustments to make as a newlywed was in the realm of my mind: transitioning from thinking as "I" to thinking as "We." Whether with finances, time management, chores, or communication, this was shift I hadn't expected would be difficult to make. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After two years of living on my own, I was no longer used to telling someone my schedule, or to discuss a purchase before buying... and I'm not saying that these are a bad thing to do! After all, Honza and I have intertwined our lives, and are counting on each other financially, emotionally and with our time. (In the reciprocal way, I wouldn't be very happy if I'd planned a dinner for us, because he'd forgotten to communicate that he'd be busy for the evening!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As married people, we can no longer live as if we were single.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This morning, I sipped on my tea and pondered these events, and realized how much it relates to a conversation we had on Tuesday's "Talk the Night Away" English meeting. We were discussing how the assignment of our paths to heaven or hell doesn't depend on our good works (having an open mind toward God, praying, going to church), but on our acceptance of Jesus Christ as the forgiver of our sins, and giving Him authority over our lives, as our friend and our King.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">...now, what does that have to do with my marriage?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">One of the students asked me if it's not necessary for us to do good things, then. I realize now that my response is much like how I've been adjusting to married life: Your actions don't determine whether you go to heaven or not. That lies in whether you've embraced faith in Jesus. However, this relationship with Jesus won't leave you unchanged. Just as He forgives our sins, He will also guide you and teach you how to leave this life of sin, and become more like Him: perfect, loving, holy, and selfless.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf4amNxBBczqemKCK6GubCjeZUmOlT5wwgU4MyTnk3Ee2HQ_TXZx1Q8g4UbRy9yTd3rHyQx9VHg2S_8qfECzs2627g8OB9rqsyRxo2Z60MP9xmQNOOewMeazvJD1-YtBWNvvrQPhnyyic/s1600/IMG_0053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf4amNxBBczqemKCK6GubCjeZUmOlT5wwgU4MyTnk3Ee2HQ_TXZx1Q8g4UbRy9yTd3rHyQx9VHg2S_8qfECzs2627g8OB9rqsyRxo2Z60MP9xmQNOOewMeazvJD1-YtBWNvvrQPhnyyic/s320/IMG_0053.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">To tie this in to the beginning of my post, I think of my relationship with Honza in a similar way. We are married, and our actions don't change that: whether I cook dinner or not, whether he vacuums or not. Whether we remember to coordinate our schedules or not, Honza is still my husband, and I am still his wife.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But our actions do affect us and our relationship. Our actions can either heal or hurt our marriage. I can't live the same way as I did before we got married, but this is a beautiful thing! Being Honza's bride, and experiencing his love daily, is worth far more than all I've left behind in my singleness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And just as deeply as Honza loves me, I know that the love of Jesus is even more perfect, more precious... and this love from God helps me to love my imperfect husband more and more, just as God loves this imperfect me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"For God so loved the world that He gave</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>His only Son, so that whoever believes in Him</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>should not perish but have eternal life."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">John 3:16</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"For by grace you have been saved through faith.</i></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">so that no one may </span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works,</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them."</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ephesians 2:8-9</span></div>
lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-58510224738610328552015-01-26T07:14:00.002-08:002015-01-26T07:21:46.483-08:00A strange new land, a strange new life.I spent yesterday evening in the kitchen with one of my roommates. We leant against the counter, sipped tea, and our conversation about the day slowly shifted to a bottle of wine by the stove, which I'd received as a lunch-guest gift that afternoon. (In the Czech republic, it is customary--when invited to someone's house for a meal--that you bring them a small gift... such as chocolates, cookies, or wine.)<br />
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As we looked over the bottle of rosé wine, my roommate asked me if I prefer sweet or dry wines. As I delivered my ever-eloquent response, she started to grin. In our usual playful manner, I asked her what it is about my answer that caused her to laugh. She replied, "Well, if I asked you this question one year ago, you would've had no idea how to answer it!"</div>
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Thus, we began a lengthy conversation about the plethora of new experiences I've had over these past 20 months, and how they have influenced me as an individual...<br />
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<div>
<br /></div>
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<h3>
<b>I have been on adventures.</b> </h3>
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Skiing for the first time, blueberry-picking on beautiful waterfalled hiking trails, surviving a week in a chata (cabin) with no electricity or cell service, and--heck--even riding the train without getting completely lost is an adventure!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
<br />
<h3>
<b>I have learned to try--and even like!--new things.</b> </h3>
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Saurkraut, ginger tea, mushroom soup, beer, buckwheat, rabbit, svařák (mulled wine), corn and egg on pizza, and Christmas Carp (sorry, but the last one's not a like!). I went to a wine tasting at a small, private winery. I also went to a small town's annual beer festival, complete with a Queen cover band. (Can I say, the Czechs with me were shocked to discover that they knew more of the songs than I did!)</div>
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<div>
<h3>
<b>I have grown into perfect housewife material... or, just learned to feed myself (and often 20 others, in addition).</b> </h3>
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I've learned to bake, cook, handle a budget, and keep my house clean (well, sometimes). I've had to buy my own groceries, pay rent... well, basically learn how to be an adult.</div>
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<h3>
<b>I have made a fool of myself.</b> </h3>
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Anyone who's ever learned to speak a second language knows that full-on embarrassment is not only normal, but it's a given. I told our youth group that I turned a sweater into "panties," asked a cashier for "meat-sauce to put on birthday cake," called my guy friends women, and spent several months consistently mixing up the words for "excited" and "furious."</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
<h3>
<b>I have learned.</b> </h3>
<br />
I've learned how to function in a different currency, to speak a <i>completely different</i> language, to avoid cultural taboos, read a bus timetable, speak in front of an audience (yay, toastmasters!), and prepare lesson plans for students ranging from preschool to university professors. I've learned how to say "no" when I've taken on too much, how to stay strong when I don't hear from friends or family for weeks, and how to recognize which relationships are the most important.<br />
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I've realized that a visit to the US is really that: a visit. And even if I spend 90% of that time with my family, I grieve for that 10% of time I didn't have snuggling with the kids or playing board games with the adults.</div>
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<h3>
<b>I have recognized sad truths about the state of our church. </b></h3>
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I've realized that those who give the most time, energy, and money to missions and ministry are usually the ones who can spare them the least.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
<h3>
<b>I have also seen beauty in the church. </b></h3>
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I've seen how people can come together to take care of a foreigner, and help her to feel included. (**cough**me**cough**) I've seen how people from different backgrounds and denominations can get together to worship God, and celebrate the gift of Jesus. I've seen the beauty of a group praying together, using different languages, and realizing that God understands every one.</div>
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<h3>
<b>I have fallen in love.</b> </h3>
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I found my best friend: a man who treats me as his treasure, even though he knows my flaws and scars. A man who is--miraculously--even weirder than I am! (Yet is still level-headed enough to keep me grounded.) A man who wants to spend the rest of his life with me, and is as excited to learn about my country and culture as I am his.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1n5h5yFxv-IJvBPnyb4fL0zjbUnaHBw8iagEdUBRGDsTX0uKcW7-Si_6Xt1OzQUxWov6x0d5z1oeNcRJj3VY6rhGcuXG3NavY_1qsKdW66uUX1FCU59GqU9e2099M7BYWdUb_9rwe-Dg/s1600/hanackykroj.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1n5h5yFxv-IJvBPnyb4fL0zjbUnaHBw8iagEdUBRGDsTX0uKcW7-Si_6Xt1OzQUxWov6x0d5z1oeNcRJj3VY6rhGcuXG3NavY_1qsKdW66uUX1FCU59GqU9e2099M7BYWdUb_9rwe-Dg/s1600/hanackykroj.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Traditional womens' dress for this region</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I'm sure if I spent more than an hour preparing this blog, I could come up with many more examples of how I've grown and changed since June 2013... but for now, I let it rest, and ponder about...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
this strange new land. </div>
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this strange new life.</div>
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this strange new me.<br />
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lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-75061663910448925492014-03-03T05:49:00.004-08:002014-03-03T05:51:51.129-08:00It's just not about us! (a parable)When reading Matthew this morning, I thought I'd go a bit deeper into Matthew 20:1-16, which is the "Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard." What is it about? And what can it mean for us?<br />
<br />
A "parable" is just a short story that teaches a moral or spiritual lesson<a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/parable"><sup>1</sup></a>. Jesus used these stories very often to help his followers understand what he is teaching. So before going into the parable itself, I looked turned back to the event which Jesus clarifies in this story<span style="font-size: x-small;"> (found in Matthew 19:16-26, 27-30)</span>.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><sup>16</sup> Just then a man came up to Jesus and asked, “Teacher, what good thing must I do to get eternal life?”</i><br />
<i><sup>17</sup> “Why do you ask me about what is good?” Jesus replied.“There is only One who is good. If you want to enter life, keep the commandments.”</i><br />
<i><sup>18</sup> “Which ones?” he inquired.</i><br />
<i>Jesus replied, “‘You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, <sup>19</sup> honor your father and mother,’ and ‘love your neighbor as yourself.’”</i><br />
<i><sup>20</sup> “All these I have kept,” the young man said. “What do I still lack?”</i><br />
<i><sup>21</sup> Jesus answered, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”</i><br />
<i><sup>22</sup> When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth.</i><br />
<i><sup>23</sup> Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly I tell you, it is hard for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of heaven. <sup>24</sup> Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”</i><br />
<i><sup>25</sup> When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astonished and asked, “Who then can be saved?”</i><br />
<i><sup>26</sup> Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” </i><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matthew+19-20&version=NIV#fen-NIV-23792e"><sup>2</sup></a></blockquote>
Jesus was speaking to a large crowd of people<span style="font-size: x-small;"> (Matthew 19:2)</span> when a rich young man came up to talk to him. This young man seemed to already believe that he was good enough to get eternal life<span style="font-size: x-small;"> (verse 20),</span> but Jesus knew that his obstacle was: a love for money. Earlier in Matthew, Jesus said that "You cannot serve both God and money" <span style="font-size: x-small;">(6:24)</span>.<br />
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This young man then went away sad.<br />
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Jesus turned his attention to his disciples <span style="font-size: x-small;">(meaning "followers")</span>, and told them just how difficult it was for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God <span style="font-size: x-small;">(verses 23-24)</span>. Even though it seemed to be impossible, God could still make it possible <span style="font-size: x-small;">(verse 26)</span>. However, the disciples didn't seem to like this idea:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><sup>27</sup> Peter answered him, “We have left everything to follow you! What then will there be for us?”<br /><sup>28</sup> Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, at the renewal of all things, when the Son of Man sits on his glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. <sup>29</sup> And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life. <sup>30</sup> But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.</i><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matthew+19-20&version=NIV#fen-NIV-23792e"><sup>3</sup></a></blockquote>
Peter recognized that Jesus was saying that it <b>is </b>possible for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God <span style="font-size: x-small;">(even though it is only through the immense power of God, himself)</span>. This seemed to frustrate Peter, because—unlike the rich man—the disciples <b>did</b> leave behind everything to follow Jesus <span style="font-size: x-small;">(verse 27)</span>! How could it also be possible for this rich man that <b>hasn't</b>? That just doesn't seem fair.<br />
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Jesus gave Peter two answers: yes, those who have sacrificed <u>will</u> receive both a great reward and eternal life <span style="font-size: x-small;">(verse 29)</span>, but Jesus also tells him that <i>"many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first"</i> <span style="font-size: x-small;">(verse 30)</span>.<br />
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This is why Jesus tells them a story. That last statement could be confusing, so Jesus explains what he means by giving them a parable <span style="font-size: x-small;">(now we're finally at Matthew 20:1-16!)</span>.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><sup>1</sup>“For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire workers for his vineyard. <sup>2</sup> He agreed to pay them a denarius for the day and sent them into his vineyard.<br /><sup>3</sup> “About nine in the morning he went out and saw others standing in the marketplace doing nothing. <sup>4</sup> He told them, ‘You also go and work in my vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ <sup>5</sup> So they went.<br />“He went out again about noon and about three in the afternoon and did the same thing. <sup>6</sup> About five in the afternoon he went out and found still others standing around. He asked them, ‘Why have you been standing here all day long doing nothing?’<br /><sup>7</sup> “‘Because no one has hired us,’ they answered.<br />“He said to them, ‘You also go and work in my vineyard.’<br /><sup>8</sup> “When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, ‘Call the workers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last ones hired and going on to the first.’<br /><sup>9</sup> “The workers who were hired about five in the afternoon came and each received a denarius. <sup>10</sup> So when those came who were hired first, they expected to receive more. But each one of them also received a denarius. <sup>11</sup> When they received it, they began to grumble against the landowner. <sup>12</sup> ‘These who were hired last worked only one hour,’ they said, ‘and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day.’<br /><sup>13</sup> “But he answered one of them, ‘I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn't you agree to work for a denarius? <sup>14</sup> Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you. <sup>15</sup> Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?’<br /><sup>16</sup> “So the last will be first, and the first will be last.” </i><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matthew+19-20&version=NIV#fen-NIV-23792e"><sup>4</sup></a></blockquote>
This story just doesn't seem fair! I mean, this is the "Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard," right? Some of the workers were there all day, working in the heat, while others worked for shorter increments... even as short as just one hour! These last ones didn't seem to earn the payment they were given.<br />
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The one-hour workers received the same amount of money as those who had worked all day, sacrificing everything <span style="font-size: x-small;">(just like the disciples in verses 19:27-29). </span>However, the full-day workers still received their generous and promised paycheck. They weren't cheated, but<b> it's just that the landowner was generous according to his own will and generosity, not based on the work of the people </b><span style="font-size: x-small;">(verse 15)</span>.<br />
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Okay, okay. So if this is true, is there any benefit or blessing in sacrificing everything? Why not just be one of the one-hour workers if it all just depends on the generosity of the landowner anyways?<br />
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The answer is this: we've got it wrong. <u>The parable isn't about the workers. It's about their employer</u>.<br />
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Our frustration with this story arises when we try to find the application from this parable by looking at the workers, when we aren't meant to learn about the workers at all! Yes, those who sacrifice everything for Jesus will receive "a hundred times as much" as what they've sacrificed, as well as "eternal life"<span style="font-size: x-small;"> (verses 19:29-30) ...</span>but we must not be envious of God's generosity. It his his own "money"—the gift of eternal life—that he gives to whoever he wants <span style="font-size: x-small;">(verse 20:15)</span>, regardless of their work.<br />
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Jesus ends this parable by emphasizing his main idea: "So the last will be first, and the first will be last" <span style="font-size: x-small;">(19:30, 20:16)</span>. This story really isn't the "Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard," but it's more the "<b>Parable of the Generous Landowner</b>." Instead of learning what it means for <u>us</u>—the "workers in the vineyard" (a.k.a followers of Jesus who have sacrificed everything for him)—we should ask: "What do I learn about <u>God</u> from this story?"<br />
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I learned all over again just how generous God is. I remember again that it's not about what I do, but about who He is.<br />
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What did <i>you </i>learn about God?<br />
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<br />lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-69207620861327851222014-02-13T06:24:00.003-08:002014-02-13T06:34:37.975-08:00I fell in love!To be fully honest, I can't say that this came entirely as a surprise. When I moved to Europe eight months ago, I <i>was </i>hoping I that would find this kind of love... yet even while I was expecting it, this relationship has still succeeded in knocking my socks off!<br />
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I guess it has developed like any good love story: I'd known him for a while, but finally gave in to spending more time with him. I received love letters from him, in which he told me about all that he'd done to pave the way for our relationship... even before I realized he was around!<br />
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We shared a lot of late-night talks, he listened to me vent about my frustrations, and we even had a few great walks under the stars... plus, in my loneliest days, he sat with me.<br />
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As I write this, I nearly feel like my heart could burst! This love is so much more than I'd ever expected, and... well, some might see this as a ridiculous decision, but I've already decided that I want to spend the rest of my life with him, to follow him wherever he goes!<br />
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But you see, there's no way that I couldn't do this. Not after everything he's done for me... in fact, he had to suffer through so much, just so that I could be close to him.<br />
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<i>We love because he first loved us.</i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(1 John 4:19)</span></div>
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Oh yeah. Did I mention? This person who fills my life with joy, meaning, love, and peace... is no ordinary person at all. In fact, he is the God of the universe, the one true ruler. His love letter is the Bible, and that suffering he went through... is through Jesu<span style="font-family: inherit;">s, through whom I can be connected with God the Father forever!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.<br />His love endures forever.<br />Give thanks to the God of gods.<br />His love endures forever.<br />Give thanks to the Lord of Lords.<br />His love endures forever.</i><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Psalms 136:1-3)</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">You know what? This love is so much deeper, fuller, and greater than any earthly romance could ever offer me. How could I possibly be "disappointed" to be "single" this Valentine's day? I've already got my groom, and he's greater than I could have dreamed. My heart couldn't be more f<span style="font-family: inherit;">ull.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>The bride belongs to the bridegroom.</i><br /><i>The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him,</i><br /><i>and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom's voice.</i><br /><i>That joy is mine, and it is now complete.</i><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">-John the Baptist, in John 3:29</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
</div>
lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-85735278424271870652014-01-18T17:02:00.001-08:002014-01-18T17:02:03.119-08:00The Quest for Home<p>I feel like I finally understand Paul, why he longed for Heaven... He was so far from home. </p>
<p>He traveled from place to place and never settled. When he left a place, he longed so deeply for the people he loved in that church. These were people he lived with, ate with, laughed with. He cared for their health, he knew their families, he prayed constantly for them. He made plans to visit, wrote them letters, and sent back representatives to encourage, correct, and bless these faraway brothers and sisters. (2 Tim. 1:1-5) </p>
<p><i>To be an apostle is to live bleeding, to love with a broken heart.</i> No earthly city can ever be our home again. Like a candle, our life is snuffed out in a breath. Where will we shine? </p>
<p>We--as apostles--need to be okay with hurting, and never block out God, our love, or passions just because we miss and love so deeply. Instead, we press on, clinging to our only true hope: the future, where we will be with our Savior forever. No more goodbyes... (Phillip. 1:21-26)</p>
<p>...but wait, what about the rest? Shall we not strive to bring as many with us as we can? Are they not worth it? This us what kept Paul going, boldly proclaiming the good news of Jesus even through persecution. </p>
<p>How could we possibly say we love these people if we failed to tell them the truth about love? Yet the thought of countless more faces keeps us pressing on. Like Paul...</p>
<p>Through trial. Through pain. Through loneliness and abandonment. Through homesickness and longing. Striving for the hope that is waiting for us... All because of Jesus Christ. </p>
<p>We press on. We leave our comfort. Because of love. (Acts 26:28-29)<br>
</p>
lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-87132307096031058392013-12-09T04:43:00.004-08:002013-12-09T12:37:06.760-08:00What is the true meaning of Christmas?<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #548235; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=75000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent6; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;">Maybe you’ve seen pictures
of Bethlehem, or heard songs <br />
about Jesus being born. What does this mean? <br />
Why is the birth of Jesus important?<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">The true meaning of
Christmas is love. Jesus said that</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">,</span></span><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="color: red; font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%;">"God loved the
world so very, very much that he gave his only Son. Because he did that, everyone who believes in him will not lose <br />
his life, but will live forever. God did not send his Son into <br />
the world to judge the world. He sent him to save <br />
the world.” </span><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #548235; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=75000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent6; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;">(John 3:16-17)</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">God loved His people,
so he provided a way—the <u>only</u> Way—for us to spend forever with Him.
Jesus said,</span><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">“I am the way. I am the truth. I give
life. <br />No one can come to my Father unless </span><span style="color: red; font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">I take him there.” </span><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">(John 14:6)</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #548235; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=75000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent6; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #548235; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=75000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent6; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;">God gave His only
Son to take the punishment for our sins. We can’t do enough good things to repay
for the bad things that we’ve done. Jesus paid the price for us, and we are
completely forgiven if we accept his gift of love.</span><span style="color: #548235; font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #548235; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=75000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent6; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;"> </span><span style="color: red; font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“We could
not help ourselves. So at the right time, Christ died to save us bad people. Almost
no one would die to save even a good man. But perhaps someone would die to save
a very good man. God shows his love for us in this way: Christ died to save us
while we were bad people.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">The blood of Christ has now put us right with God. So even more, he
will save us from God's strong anger. When we were enemies, the death of his
Son brought us back to God. Now that we are made right with God, it is the life
of Jesus that will save us.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Not only is that true, but it is through our Lord Jesus Christ that
we can enjoy God. This is for all who have been brought back to God <br />by him.”</span><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #548235; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=75000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent6; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">(Romans 5:6-11)<br />
<br />
</span><u><span style="color: #6aa84f;">The true meaning of Christmas is the celebration of this <br />
incredible act of love. If we accept the gift of Jesus,<br />
we can know God and enjoy Him.</span><span style="color: #548235;"><o:p></o:p></span></u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #548235; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=75000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent6; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;"><u><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span></u></span>
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #548235; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=75000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent6; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;"><u><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span></u></span>
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #548235; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=75000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent6; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;"><u><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span></u></span>
<br />
<span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Bookman Old Style, serif;">All Bible passages are taken from</span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">THE JESUS BOOK - The Bible in Worldwide English. Copyright SOON Educational Publications, Derby DE65 6BN, UK. Used by permission</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: start;">.</span></span></span></div>
lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-58880112231812778692013-06-30T13:14:00.000-07:002013-06-30T13:14:09.703-07:00A True FatherThree years ago, my parents adopted a beautiful baby girl. With a radiant smile and the most precious eyes you've ever seen, she's my "baby girl."<br /><br />I have these special moments with her, when she'll curl up in my lap or tuck her head into my shoulder. Filled to the brim with love for this little girl, I could just kiss her chubby little cheeks forever! Her giggles send my heart soaring.<br /><br />One day, it hit me: <i>this is how God feels about me.</i> My Father is overjoyed when I come running to Him. I am His child.<div>
<br /><br />Six months ago, my parents received two beautiful children from the foster care system. Full of laughter and enough energy to give the Energizer Bunny a run for his money, they've definitely filled our home...<br /><br />But these children have been neglected, rejected. They came to us without any clue of what real parents look like. The first few months, my little brother would cling to any person who happened to walk by. He didn't distinguish between us and strangers because he'd never truly attached to anyone. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Any man who walked into the room he called "daddy," and for months my would parents consistently remind him that "No, <i>this</i> is your daddy."<br /><br />I think we are like children... the adopted children of our Father. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We were made to relate to God in a way that is deep, innocent, and trusting. We are supposed to realize how precious our adoption is and snuggle up in our Father's arms... we're supposed to be like my 3-year-old sister.<br /><br />But instead, we act like my brother. We can't distinguish our Father's face from any other. We run to anybody--sometimes it happens to be our Father, but it is just as often a stranger. <br /><br />Sometimes we are like my foster sister. In the opposite way, we lash out towards our true Father. Because of the sins of our fathers before, we test the boundaries of love. Everyone else rejected us when we were bad. If everyone else abandoned us...<br /><br />We have no reason to believe that our true, Heavenly Father will be any different. So we fight. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We kick. We scream. We yell "I hate you!" We try to control our situation, try take care of ourselves..... but we're just kids. Just looking for love. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When my sister has one of these meltdowns, my mom holds her tight in loving arms and reminds her over and over again, "I will be your forever mom. Even when you are bad, I will always love you."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Tonight and every night, God wants to hold you in His arms. He'll whisper to you, "I loved you so much that I sent my Son. So that you can have eternal life with Me... I see you through His sacrifice. I will always love you."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>...how often I have longed to gather your children together, <br />as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Matthew 23:37</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life.</i><br /><i>No one comes to the Father except through me.</i><br /><i>If you really know me, you will know my Father as well.</i><br /><i>From now on, you do know him and have seen him.</i><br />John 14:6-7</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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</div>
lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-46573581377841854942013-05-23T22:36:00.001-07:002014-02-13T14:45:32.887-08:00Frog Eyes<p>(note: this is a blog I wrote in may of 2013. Why I never posted it, I'm not sure... But here it is!)</p>
<p>Growing up, I don't think I ever understood the saying that "a watched pot never boils." My brothers and I would gather around the stove and watch in anticipation for the boiling to begin.</p>
<p>In those times, we always wanted to be the first person to spot the "frog eyes" (those little tiny bubbles that form on the bottom of the pot, yet haven't risen yet).</p>
<p>Tonight, I realized that I'm starting to see a lot of frog-eyed men pop up around me. (Or maybe they hop up? Yeah, yeah? )</p>
<p>You see, about a year and a half ago, my heart broke. I looked at the people around me, and saw so few guys stepping up in their faith. While I saw many women growing in their pursuit of an awesome, living, radically life-changing relationship with the Father, the men were few and far between. </p>
<p>So I started praying fervently. At every Bible study or prayer meeting, I made sure we lifted up the men of our generation. Some friends even started coming to me with the same burden on their hearts. </p>
<p>Fast forward a year and a half, and last night I had a conversation with my little brother. I've had the privilege of seeing him grow into a man over this past year, and I am so proud of him! In the stillness of the night, we talked about all these young guys we know who are starting to step up. Like glowing embers, I can see telltale fires of growth burning under the surface. </p>
<p>Leaders. Game-changers. Frog eyes. </p>
lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-87475954323930057442013-04-15T18:44:00.002-07:002013-04-15T18:45:49.695-07:00Hush...<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There is something to be said about
quiet.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
(and yes, this is truly coming from
me.)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I've never been known to be the quiet
type. In a 6<sup>th</sup> grade play, each speaking child was
equipped with a microphone except for me. The strange thing is that
nobody in the audience seemed to notice. Even still, I have had
multitudes of friends and family members “inform” me that the
volume of my communication tends to rise when I get excited. Oh, and
I don't do well around sleeping babies.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
However, I have been condemned to a few
days of silence by a sinus infection gone awry. My mom told me last
night that me being quiet was “creepy” and it seemed like I was
“invaded” by someone else. She then turned up her music.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Silence is inconvenient. I was unable
to converse with friends at church yesterday, I couldn't get involved
in class discussions today, and I will be unable to speak for my
presentation at an Undergraduate Research Symposium tomorrow.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But, there is something to be said
about quiet.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Better is a handful of quietness
than two hands full of toil and a striving after wind.</i>
(Ecclesiastes 4:6)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I tend to keep my hands full of toil—my
plate of life piled high. With all of my hustling about, I often
forget to be still. To wait and listen to God speak.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
These past few days, I've re-noticed a
logical truth: a soft sound is easier heard when surrounded by
silence rather than noise. When I'm in a noisy context, such as a
room filled with people or blaring music, my feeble whispers are no
greater than mouthing lips. But late at night, when the rest of the
world has gone to sleep and even the cicadas are at rest, a dear
friend can hear my every word.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>1 Kings 19:11-13</b> – God was not
in the great wind, earthquake, or fire... but in the low whisper.
(This is the condensed summary—go read it for yourself!)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If my whisper of a voice can't be heard
in the noise, maybe that's why it's often hard for us to hear God. We
keep our hands full of toil and our lives full of noise, when God
asks us to go away in the silence to be with Him. Jesus even set this
example for us by rising before everyone else and going off alone to
pray. He even instructs us to do the same:<br />
<br />
<i>But when you
pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who
is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
(Matthew 6:6)</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">So
what do you think? Will you be quiet with me?</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Because
there is something to be said about quiet.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-66162389761597957792013-01-23T07:23:00.005-08:002013-01-23T07:33:53.351-08:00Chapter Time<br />
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I tiptoe
across the floor of my room, trying to force the sound of my
footsteps into the plush white carpet. Swinging the door open
carefully, so as not to hit the side of the crib, I glance down and
see tufts of blonde hair peeking out from under fleece Mickey Mouse
blankets. Gentle snores grumble through a snotty nose. Closing the
door behind me, I chuckle at the thought that not many college
seniors share their room with a toddler... especially when the child
is not their own. I step into the hall and overhear Dad's playful
call in the girls' room: “Alright! Who's ready for Chapter
Time!” Giggling, the two girls jump into their beds
and Mom pulls the blankets up around their chubby cheeks as Dad
settles back with a picture book. Heading downstairs to work on
homework, I smile as the ever-familiar deep hum of his voice follows
me down.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Growing
up, “Chapter Time” was family time. I have to admit, this was a
clever move on my parents' part. They had been struggling to make us
stay in bed at night, and realized that we settled down much better
if they read to us before we fell asleep. What started as a toddler
anecdote became family tradition. Every night, without fail, my
brothers and I would line up on my parents' bed and Dad would read us
a single chapter. Series after series, book after book: <i>Chronicles
of Narnia</i>, the <i>Light
of Eidon</i>, <i>the</i> <i>Hobbit</i>.
Tales of adventure and love, of heroes that would go to the ends of
the earth (or another world) to ensure that truth and light prevails.
This was always the favorite part of my day. Even Dad's business
trips couldn't stop us! He would pack the current book in his
suitcase, and we would huddle around the speakerphone at night and
listen to his familiar—yet slightly more metallic—voice. I knew
that voice by heart. I would snuggle up next to him, his “Girl
Squirrel,” and lay my head on his chest. As he spoke, I could hear
the words as much through the air as through his being, the beat of
his heart keeping pace. When not snuggled up, my father and I even
worked out an elaborate foot-massage system: we would sit with our
feet aiming at each other and rub the other person's feet while he
read. Now that seems an unusual memory. However, I <i>have</i> always
loved foot rubs.
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Around
the age of thirteen or fourteen, I found myself “maturing”—Chapter
Time was losing its luster. I came to the decision that I was far too
old to still have my Dad to read to me, so the night came that I
ignored my dad's call to join. Sitting proudly alone in my room, I
heard my father and brothers together, the stories continuing as they
always would. Proud and sulking... as much as I wanted to grow up, I
didn't want to be left out.
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
Not long
after, Chapter Time slowly slipped out of the family routine.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As a
fruit from being read to, I became an avid reader. I was taught an
appreciation for the written word at a young age. A very young age.
Competitive and stubborn by nature, I insisted that my mother teach
me to read at three years old, only because she had begun teaching my
6-year-old brother. (Just as an aside: we also graduated with our
Associate's at the same time. I never grew out of the
competitiveness.) Later on, as homeschooled daughter of a writer, my
education was severely lacking in the areas of math and science, but
was rich in novels. I read every copy of <i>Nancy Drew</i> in our
local library, and even tried to start my own <i>Babysitter's Club</i>
named “Baby Blues,” which for some reason never took off.
While my friends were starting to get in trouble for kissing boys and
watching R-rated movies, I got in trouble for sneaking flashlights
and reading until the wee hours of the morning. I had the capacity to
read my mom's 450-page World War II novel, <i>From Dust and Ashes</i>,
in one sitting, and always hungered for more. I knew the cover of
every book on each of the five bookshelves in our house, and realized
that the old saying is beyond wrong, because you CAN judge a book by
its cover. Or, at least I did. If the cover didn't catch my eye—if
I didn't feel a glimmer of excitement from holding the weight of it
in my hands—I would stuff it right back on the shelf and never give
it a second glance.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Though
my summer reading list was pages long, I
realized that I had somehow avoided reading the “classics.” <i>To
Kill a Mockingbird</i> still sits in
a pile under my bed, never read more than two pages deep. <i>Pride
and Prejudice</i> is my favorite
movie, but I've never read a written word of Jane Austen. My Kindle
library is growing long with the list of traditional books, but I
have yet to read them. Free Kindle books made it easy to stock up on
traditional titles. I considered feeling guilty about it for a while,
until I recently heard a classmate mention that she had to read <i>the
Scarlet Letter</i> seven times
during her high school career. I felt so grateful for the variety and
freedom I held in pursuing any book I so desired. Maybe this
educational independence has stuck with me more than I know, as I
have continued to avoid the expected career path and am majoring in
Interdisciplinary Studies. I could choose what I wanted to read, now
I can choose what I want to study.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My whole
family is undergoing an adjustment period right now. My parents
recently acquired a 2-year-old boy and 5-year-old girl from the
foster care system. Once you add them to my 18-year old brother,
myself, and our already-adopted 2-year-old sister, the number of
“kids” living at home now amounts to five. While ever-unorganized
chaos reigns in my home, and I have discovered that doing homework
has become a nearly-impossible task, I feel so blessed to know that
the fountain of love pouring out of my parents is nowhere close to
dry. More mouths to feed, more clothes to clean.<br />
<br /></div>
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More
hearts to love,<br />
<span style="line-height: 200%;"> more books to read.</span></div>
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lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-12464085722764681822013-01-03T14:18:00.003-08:002017-09-08T03:42:37.646-07:00I believe in you.On our last day of class, my professor pulls out <i>the Polar Express</i> and begins to read to us. A class filled with upper-level undergraduate and graduate students, some might think this strange. However, this was a class focused on writing for children and adolescents, so none of us are surprised. A quaint story, she reads through to the end, pausing periodically to point out different aspects of the childrens-book format that we had learned. She reaches the end of the book, and the main character has received a bell from Santa's sleigh for Christmas only to discover that only those who believe in Santa can hear it ring:<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"At one time, most of my friends could hear the bell, but as years
passed, it fell silent for all of them. Even Sarah found one Christmas
that she could no longer hear its sweet sound. Though I've grown old,
the bell still rings for me, as it does for all who truly believe."</i></blockquote>
<br />
Her last words hang in the air as she puts the book down and pulls out a small plastic bag filled with bells. One by one, she goes to each student in the room and hands us a small bell. They are larger than cranberries--silver ones, gold ones, one bell for each one. As she hands us our bells, she says, "I want to give each of you a bell. Because I believe in you. Not just as writers, but as individuals. When you see that bell, remember that somebody believes in you."<br />
<br />
The red-headed girl sitting across from me bursts into tears, and I know that mine is not the only damp eye. Our class is dismissed for the semester. We all have other places to go, other classes and finals to attend... yet we linger. And one by one, we give her a hug and walk out the door. Some of us bearing gifts for our favorite professor, some only carrying thankful hearts. As the room clears out, and I tuck my bell safe in my pocket and follow.<br />
<br />
When I arrived home that evening, I pull a small silver chain out of my jewelry box and thread it through the top of the bell. Dangling around my neck, a simple necklace.<br />
<br />
The following week, I go to take the GRE exam and am sure to wear my necklace. As the exam begins, I slowly let the air ease from my lungs and give my bell a tiny shake.<br />
<br />
The gentle tinkling sound meets my ears, and I remember that somebody believes in me.<br />
<br />
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<br />lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-64301310184911547592012-09-25T18:24:00.001-07:002012-09-25T18:24:16.119-07:00IntroductionThere are some things that words don't suit to describe.<br /><br />Imagine a crackling campfire with dear friends seated around, singing classic songs just a little off-key. Or the trickle of a brook, weaving its way down glistening stones and singing trees that stretch to the sky, as if to embrace the sun. Try as I might, these few words do little to portray the beauty and depth of these tiny occurrences in life... and yet, they draw you into your own mind, unearthing your own own mental images.<br /><br />
And how would you describe love? You could grab ahold of any one facet, turn it this way and that, and portray it through the deepest poetry or song. But you would inevitably miss many other points of love. Because love is intangible, yet woven through the fibers of our being.<br /><br />Trying to write about my summer feels like trying to describe an emotion.<br />
<br />
I have been home for six weeks now, and I feel like I'm just now ready to share. Sure, I told many stories upon my return, and some people even seemed interested in hearing them. But I still didn't know what to share. What words exist that could possibly reveal the connection my heart feels with this country, these people? What form of prose could describe the sense of home-ness I experienced in a foreign land, the strength of God's calling for me to be there? Are there any?<br />
<br />
This is my first time to sit and record some of my experiences since I returned. Six weeks stateside... almost as much time as I spent there.lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-83659691301654980982012-08-21T18:07:00.000-07:002012-09-25T18:27:04.383-07:00That's a Wrap!<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My brothers and sisters in Christ,<br /><br /> </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I want to thank you all for the support
you've given me this summer! Through your prayers, I know that God
provided both a spiritual uplifting and a barrier of protection over
me. Through your financial sacrifices, you partnered monetarily with
God in what He is doing in the Czech Republic. Through your
encouragement and friendship, I was reminded of the believers who had
my back. In the times when things got difficult, your words
encouraged me.<br /><br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This eight-week trip has come to a
close, and I am now settling back into Little Rock. My senior year at
UALR starts this week, I've already resumed a few shifts at work, and
soon life here will be back in full-swing... but I know that this
year is intended to be different, to be special. Because I believe
that my work in the Czech Republic is not yet done.<br /><br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Throughout the summer, God made it
clear to me that I should continue to join Him in the Czech
Republic... I hope to move there after graduation and stay long-term.
Just today, God gave me yet another confirmation that I am truly
following His will for me. This last year in the States will be a
season of preparation, and I hope to be intentional in all things
that I do. I praise God for this, that He has already answered my
prayers by providing a woman with very similar missions experience to
mentor me through this next year!<br /><br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Therefore, though my short trip is
over, I know that there is much ahead... may God's glory continue to
shine! Please stay in prayer for me as I continue to seek God's
guidance, and I challenge you with this: keep your heart open for how
God wants you to partner with Him in the Czech Republic. Your
presence in my life is not merely a coincidence, and I have
experienced the spiritual blessings that come with joining God in
what He is already doing. After all, spreading the good news of Jesus
is what life is all about, right?<br />
<br />
<span style="font-style: normal;"></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<span style="font-style: normal;">Grace
and Peace to all of you... we'll be in touch!<br />Leslie </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Deuteronomy 8:17-18<i><br />
You may say to yourself, “My power
and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me.” But
remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you the ability to
produce wealth, and so confirms his covenant, which he swore to your
ancestors, as it is today. </i>lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-53899337881677718592012-08-04T18:05:00.000-07:002012-09-25T18:06:04.985-07:00It's Nearing the End<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The other day, I was thinking back over
the past seven weeks. With just a little over one full week left, I
can see my trip wrapping up. What is the story of my trip?</div>
<br />
If there's one thing I've learned so
far this summer, it's that there is a special unity that comes by the
Holy Spirit. Throughout my experiences with the Czech Christians—as
well as several American teams—I've noticed something special:
instead of feeling like a random group of people haphazardly stuck
together and forced into stressful situations... it feels like a
family reunion.
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
“<i>Therefore if you have any
encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from His
love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and
compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having
the same love, being one in the Spirit and of one mind.”</i><br />
-Philippians 2:1-2</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
I've spent almost two months forming
and strengthening relationships, and I'm now able to look back and
recognize the fruit of that. I still have one more youth camp this
week, and then next weekend I will be saying goodbye—to all of my
friends, my new church family, and this country that I love. While I
plan on returning next summer and staying for a longer term, it still
is very painful to think of having to leave.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
How you can pray for me this last week:<b><br />
</b></div>
<ul>
<li><b>Pray that I will have strength</b>.
Strength to stay joyful this week and keep pressing love into people
around me. Strength to withstand the upcoming good-byes.</li>
<li><b>Pray that I will have courage</b>.
Courage to share the gospel with the non-Christians that have built
good friendships with. Courage to share the love of God with the ones
that need it.</li>
<li><b>Pray that I will pursue the
relationships</b>. There are three non-Christian friends coming to
church with me tomorrow! With all of them, I've been deeply investing
into these friendships throughout the summer, and now they are all
anticipating joining me at church!</li>
<li><b>Pray that I will be prepared</b>. I
already recognize that I will have a weighty culture shock when I
return to the States. And I won't have much time to readjust—within
a few days I'll be back at work, and I start the fall semester one
week after I get home.</li>
<li><b>Pray that I will be guided</b>.
Throughout this next year, I have many decisions to make. How I can
get more Biblical and theological training, how I can study more of
the Czech language, what steps I should take to create a more
permanent stay for me here.</li>
</ul>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
I want to thank all of you again for
your continued prayers. I know that this would not be possible, if
not for the prayers of all of you back at home. I look forward to
reconnecting with you when I get back and sharing more in-depth just
how much God has done in me and through me this year.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
Your sister in Christ,<br />
Leslie<br />
</div>
<br />
P.S. Sorry I have not sent out an update in such a long time. On July
16th, I began a run of three English camps back-to-back. I haven't had
much time for anything else!lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-20477150330133129452012-07-19T18:03:00.000-07:002012-09-25T18:04:07.721-07:00One month down, one more to go!I just want to start out by thanking you for all your prayers. I know
that it is only by God's protection and grace that I have flourished
here, and I know that having a spiritual covering of prayer over me has
made all of the difference. Yesterday I was talking with the pastor
here, and he said that he is amazed that even after weeks, they
are still seeing fruit from my being here. (Totally God, not me!)<br />
<br />
I've been keeping myself very busy ever since I got here. Hanging out
with old friends, making new ones, having visitors and traveling to
visit... all of it has been very enriching. Especially for ministry in
the Czech Republic, it's important to have strong relationships with
people. Czechs are known for not opening up to others very easily,
especially when it comes to very personal things like religion.<br />
<br />
I've done a lot since the last time I sent out an update. My Czech
exchange-student sister came to visit me for a few days, and
we always enjoy spending time with each other. I was really encouraged
to hear that she is still pursuing a relationship with God, even though
it has been over three years since she first accepted Christ while she
was in America. (Please keep her in your prayers, as I don't know if
she's yet had the courage to tell her family about her faith)<br />
<br />
Last week, I also spent a few days in the small town of Lanškroun
visiting my friend, and his family. His dad is the pastor
of their town's church (the only evangelical church--about 50 or so
people in the town of 10,000), and I had a lot of fun getting to know
them. I also became good friends with his older sister, and
the three of us even took a day trip to a village in Poland (it was an
hour and a half by train).<br />
<br />
This week has been more of a work-week for me. I have been spending the
mornings teaching English to young children at a family
center the church started. And in the afternoons, I've been either
visiting with my non-Christian friends or helping the pastor prepare for our
upcoming English Camp. We leave tomorrow, and prayers for it are
appreciated! There will be about 70 people at the camp overall, ranging
from small children to grandparent-age, and most all people are not
Christians except for a team of ~10 church members who are running the
camp. Please pray that the planning will run smoothly, that the team of
Americans from North Dakota will build strong bonds with the Czechs
(the Americans arrived last night), and that--most importantly--the
hearts of the Czech people will be open to hearing the gospel.<br />
<br />
I only have three and a half weeks left here, and I've already started
to prematurely miss it here. As the saying goes, "Home is where the
heart is." My home must be here, because my heart is here. Over the
past six months or so, I have been seriously and prayerfully
considering moving here after I graduate in May, and after being here
for only a few days, I began to believe deeply that the place for my
life is here, and I would like to move here permanently after I
graduate. I still don't know the details on how I will make it
happen--how I will support myself financially, where I will live, the
logistics of acquiring a visa--but I have faith that where God leads
me, He will provide for me. So, that being said, I appreciate any and
all prayers you have for my wisdom and guidance in this. I have already
discussed it with my family and a few close friends, as well as I spent
some time the other day talking to the pastor here about partnering with the Czech
church. I also appreciate prayers for the rest of my time here this
summer, as I face back-to-back English camps and business.<br />
<br />
Grace and Peace to all of you in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, who
has saved us by his sacrifice and reconciled us to His Father.<br />
Leslielesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-13205926997509251162012-06-30T18:00:00.000-07:002012-09-25T18:25:25.560-07:00Belated UpdateWhere to even begin?<br />
<br />
There is something so settling about knowing that you're in the
place where God wants you to be, knowing that all of your passions,
gifts, growths, experiences, and desires have all prepared you for
this time and location. While this may sound like a bold statement,
over the past few months as God was preparing me and leading me to
make this small step, I've seen Him reveal to me again and again how
my life as a Christian has been to lead me to this place.<br />
<div align="center">
<i>“In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord
determines
his steps.” </i>(Proverbs 16:9)</div>
<br />
I previously mentioned the scariest moment of my trip—of my
life—when I spent the evening in the Emergency Room recovering from
a severe allergic reaction to a bee sting. If you want to see the
detailed story, I just finished writing up a blog about it:
<b><a class="moz-txt-link-freetext" href="http://lesliegoyer.blogspot.cz/2012/06/bees-eye-view.html"><br />http://lesliegoyer.blogspot.cz/2012/06/bees-eye-view.html</a> </b> <br />
(I was going to include it in this update, but it was just too
long)<br />
<br />
I've had a busy but fruitful two weeks here already, and while it
partially feels like I've always been here... I also feel like the
time is flying by too quickly. One-fourth of my trip is already over!
In addition to the hard times that you've heard about—the
difficulty getting here and the evening in the hospital—I have had
some wonderful times here as well!
<br /><br />
I've built some great relationships with the Czech church here.
The church pastor and his wife have been very welcoming
to me, having me over to their home to visit and play with their two
kids. They have been very encouraging, and I have spent quite a bit
of time with this pastor as well, since much of our ministry work has been
side-by-side. His nephew is also a Christian, and
probably my best friend here! He lives about an hour away, but has
come to visit a few times. We get along great, and have fun hanging
out and playing music together. I also have gotten to know the youth leader
fairly well. She is very sweet, and
we've had some great evenings visiting. I have gotten to know several
of the Christian youth also (One girl just left on Thursday for a 2-month mission trip,
herself! She's in Brazil, if you can also pray for her).<br />
<br />
But I've also built some great relationships with people that do not attend the church!
One woman has quickly become a dear friend of mine. We met in
an English lesson that I visited, and immediately hit it off. Her
English is excellent, and she enjoys the opportunity to practice the
language. In addition, she has been giving me free Czech lessons and
helping me grasp some of the grammar and usage of this difficult
language. She has been surprisingly open with me about spiritual
things, and while she does
not claim to be a Christian, she hungers strongly after God and has a
relationship with Jesus Christ. Her husband and family, however, are
interested in “spiritual” things, but are not as close to Christianity. I am praying for the opportunity
to invite her to church with me.<br />
<br />
Part of our outreach this past week was speaking in public
schools, inviting high school students to the English camp we are
hosting in August. We have had immense success, with five students
having signed up already (last year there were just 2 from the
schools), and several of them have added me on facebook as well. I
spent yesterday morning with a young girl from one school.<br />
<br />
<br />
Prayer guides:<br />
<ul>
<li>
Pray for the upcoming English camps—I have about two weeks until
our first one, and from that point on I will become very busy... that
the students will come, and that they will be open to both building
relationships and hearing the Gospel.<br />
</li>
<li>
Pray that I will stay plugged-in to God. All of this may sound
like fun and games, but it is spiritually and emotionally draining.
There is spiritual warfare going on around me, and I need to stay on
top of my game, and continually filled, as I pour out love and hope to
those around me. I can't pour out if I'm empty!<br />
</li>
<li>
Pray for the other Americans from Mosaic Church that will join
me here in August—my parents and baby sister, Deb, Christy, and Emily.
Pray that they will be sufficiently prepared, their spirits will be
lifted and filled, and that the fundraising will be provided for.<br />
</li>
<li>
Pray for the Czech church here—that I can encourage them, and
that they will continue to have boldness to share the Gospel with their
friends and family members. Also that any spiritual warfare will stay
away from their doors, so that any people that enter will see the truth
and love of Jesus.<br />
</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="CENTER">
“<i>It was not by their sword that they won the
land, nor did their arm bring them victory; it was your right hand,
your arm, and the </i><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">light</span></i><i>
of your face, for you loved them.”</i> (Psalm 44:3)</div>
lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-55731126068630713042012-06-30T08:11:00.002-07:002012-06-30T08:16:14.634-07:00A Bee's-Eye ViewThe scariest moment of my trip—of my
life—up until now is when I spent the evening in a Czech Emergency Room. And it is all thanks to one little bee.
<br />
<br /><br />
The youth group spent Friday afternoon hiking up “Holy Hill” outside of
Olomouc, and as much fun as I was having, I
needed to leave early. With a friend's wedding in Vysoke Myto on on Saturday morning, I needed to catch Friday evening's train. To get me there, one of the Czech youth leaders, Jarek, was
going to drive me back down the hill/mountain to grab my bag and get me to the train station. However, at the last minute, the leaders decided to have Ivan drive me (the reason is still
unknown to me, because they made that decision while speaking Czech).
<br />
<br />
Visiting as we drove into town, Ivan and I were about two minutes away from Dorkas (the Bible school where I'm staying) when a
bee flew in the car window and stung me on the shoulder. I
was obviously in pain, but since 12 years had passed since my last sting, I didn't think much about it.<br />
<br />
Arriving at Dorkas, and I ran to grab my backpack. Upon reaching the 4th floor, my
face and ears began to feel funny. Attributing the sensations
to heat and exertion, I grabbed my pack and ran back down. Nearing
the car, I noticed that my lips were going numb. Telling
Ivan of the situation, we decided to call Mike Young (he missionary taking care of me, who lives
about one hour away) Mike asked Ivan if he could drive me
to the hospital, so we jumped back into the car and took off.<br />
<br />
Roughly three minutes later, my lower back began to itch. Reaching back to scratch it, I felt bumps along my skin. Asking Ivan to check, he told me that he saw “bubbles”
(hives). By the time we arrived at the hospital, hives had broken
out over my entire body—back, chest, legs, arms, neck... even in my
hair. In addition, my face had become significantly swollen. Rushing into
the emergency room, Ivan began to speak to the nurse in Czech. Her first
concern was about my breathing, and I answered that it was
fine... for the moment. She then began the neccessary paperwork, and I presented my passport. Luckily, I had stuck it in my purse on a whim earlier that day. <br />
<br />
Within a minute or so,
breathing began to grow more difficult. Panic setting in, I told Ivan of the new development, and he in turn translated the message to the nurse. Standing up, she tossed my
passport onto the desk and rushed me back into the doctor's room. He began to
ask me the usual questions through Ivan's translation, “Are you
allergic to anything else... are you taking any other medications...
are you allergic to any medications...” A we spoke, the nurse pepared my arm for the injection, which eased my breathing
within moments. Once my breathing was back to normal, they set me up with an IV to treat the swelling
and hives.
<br />
<br />
A while later, as I lied in my hospital bed, IV dripping into my arm, Ivan prayed over me, thanking God for His protection. When he finished, I turned to
him and said, “You know... I can see that God was with me. He really was protecting me.”
<br />
<br />
The events of this attack may have been frightening, but even lying on a gurney, I could look back and see how God kept me safe. From the
time the bee stung me until I began to have difficulty breathing was
about 25-30 minutes. What are the blessings that kept me safe?<br />
<br />
<ol><strong>
</strong>
<li><strong>Ivan would drove me</strong>--his English
is impeccable, and a a result, we didn't have any translation issues. Had the
original driver, Jarek, been my escort, communication with the
Doctors would have been much more difficult.<br />
</li>
<li><strong>We had a car</strong>--this was one of the mere handful of times during my
trip that we've had a car readily available. Most of the
transportation here is by foot or public trams/buses. If I'd had to
wait for a tram, or for someone else to come pick me up, the extra
time could've been lethal.<br />
</li>
<li><strong>We were already in town</strong>--instead of having been stung on
top of Holy Hill (I did see several bees up there throughout the
day), I was stung within city limits, extremely close to the
hospital.<br />
</li>
</ol>
<br />
I praise God, because I know that He is with me. And He's stronger than anything I face.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBKS1vF2290-WPcLpl71bLykp-l10Tiihevp29PwJACD-yJQ7azL_-iW-xt7jFiU-oUt2eoUjYVBs6MkInWKVWwJ242gZNnGKGQP3GGj8FFTJP3lTPM_3wos2jZ7M5lJkvDp5Cvh7xys/s1600/DSC01965.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBKS1vF2290-WPcLpl71bLykp-l10Tiihevp29PwJACD-yJQ7azL_-iW-xt7jFiU-oUt2eoUjYVBs6MkInWKVWwJ242gZNnGKGQP3GGj8FFTJP3lTPM_3wos2jZ7M5lJkvDp5Cvh7xys/s320/DSC01965.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view halfway up "Holy Hill"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<br />
<em>"But let all who take refuge in you be glad; let them ever sing for joy. Spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may rejoice in you." (Psalm 5:11)</em></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-10259266872868099952012-06-19T17:54:00.000-07:002012-09-25T17:55:33.916-07:00Settling InHello, everybody! <br />
<br />
I have been in town since Friday afternoon, and I thought it would
be time for an in-country update! <br />
(I am 7 hours ahead of AR, by the way)<br />
<br />
I am so in love with the Czech Republic... it is wonderful to be back!
I am currently renting a room from the dorms of a "Bible School" here
in town. While there are still a few students also living here, they
are finishing up their semester and will be moving out later this week.
The location of this building is wonderful: right behind me is a
beautiful park, and in front of the building is a quiet, peaceful
courtyard. I feel like I live in a quiet part of town, but it is only a
two minute walk to Dolní náměstí ("lower square") and two minutes
farther is Horní náměstí ("upper square"--also the main square). <br />
<br />
I just got my public transportation pass yesterday, but I have been
walking a lot since I have been here. All of the walking on
cobblestones has been a little rough on my ankle (I injured it last
summer), but I think it is growing stronger. In addition, I think that
the extra foot-transportation has caused me to lose a little weight...
in spite of the fact that my diet largely consists of rohlík
(bread/rolls), smažený sýr (fried cheese), brambory (potatoes), and
kofola ("Coke"-like drink)!<br />
<br />
I've also been feeling really tired. Yesterday I took a one-hour nap
then slept for 10 hours straight. This might partially be from jet lag,
but the missionaries here were telling me that learning a new language
can really wear you out. Most of the Czech words I previously knew have
come back quickly, and I am trying to learn new words and phrases as
much as possible. However, much of the time I don't get translations
while the Czech people are having conversations. While listening, I am
constantly trying to figure out what they are saying--while I do catch
a few words here and there, my brain gets tuckered out from trying to
translate all of the time.<br />
<br />
On a much lighter note: God is so faithful! It has been such a blessing
to be with the church here, and they really are taking care of me. I
have been spending quite a bit of time with the pastor and one
of the youth leaders. I have also had a great opportunity to
reconnect with many of the youth I met last summer, and have plans to
visit with a couple of them throughout this next week. <br />
<br />
Prayers guides:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Pray that the students will be open to building a deeper
relationship with me (both the Christians and non-Christians). My
desire is to really invest in the youth here.</li>
<li>Pray that my time will be spent wisely--I have quite a bit of
free time in my schedule, which leaves me open to hang-out time
possibilities. I want to really make sure that I'm not wasting this
time away.</li>
<li>Pray for my relationships with the Czech church, that the spirit
of God that unites us will also provide us unity as His church. I also
want to avoid doing things that are culturally offensive.</li>
</ul>
<br />
Thank-you so much for your prayers and encouraging emails! I am
thankful for all of you, my brothers and sisters in Christ.<br />
Leslie
<br />
lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-38889103012892818602012-06-14T06:41:00.002-07:002012-06-14T06:41:52.138-07:00I've got you.<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>The Lord replied, "My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest."</em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>-Exodus 33:14</em></div>
<br />
A few nights ago, as I was spending some time in prayer with my parents and friends, I felt a wave of anxiousness over me. Distraction, doubts, and fears have been plaguing me for weeks now, and as we prayed I felt them return. In that moment, I turned my heart to Jesus, and he pulled me into a tight hug. As He drew me near to his heart, He whispered, "<em>I've got you</em>."<br />
<br />
I wrote that on the outside of my journal yesterday, and the thought of that is all that has gotten me through the past day.<br />
Arriving at the Little Rock Airport around 5am, I had smooth sailing checking in and going through security. However, once we'd boarded our 7am flight, we were told that there is a problem with the generator on one of our engines, and we would have to deplane so they could repair it.<br />
<br />
Multiple flight changes, a few tears, some interesting new acquaintances, and <strong>12 hours</strong> later... we board a new flight to Atlanta. However, once reaching the Atlanta airspace, we discover that there is unexpected bad weather in Atlanta. We circle around and around until we get too low on gas to continue to wait it out. The plane turns back to Nashville and refuels, by which time I missed my newly-arranged connections in Atlanta. <br />
<br />
Landing in the Atlanta airport around 10:30pm, I then waited in line to get a new flight set up, waited in line for over an hour to get a shuttle, then waited in line at the hotel only to find out that they'd run out of rooms. By 2:30am, they had the opportunity to clean a "smoking" room for me and I was able to get a place to crash.<br />
<br />
22 hours later, I have so far made it to Atlanta. I've got 20 hours of travel left to go.<br />
<br />
Throughout the day, a lot of thoughts have been flitting about in my mind. Is this spiritual warfare, maybe? Or is God intervening? Maybe He's protecting me from something... or there's something better in store now. Or maybe this is just the accumulation of all my no-problem travels.<br />
<br />
But as I prayed, watery-eyed and frustrated in the Little Rock terminal (and--not gonna lie--in the Atlanta terminal and hotel lobby), God reminded me of this truth: <em>He's got me.</em><br />
<br />
It doesn't matter what happens to me on this flight, because no matter what reason--whether His goodness or His intervention--He's still got me. He knew all of this was coming, even though it wasn't how I was expecting my day to go.<br />
<br />
So there you have it! So begins the great adventure.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /><em>Then Moses said to him, "If your Presence does nto go with us, do not send us up from here. How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and with your people unless you go with us? What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?"</em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>And the Lord said to Moses, "I will do this very thing you have asked, because I am pleased with you and I know you by name."</em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>Then Moses said, "Now show me your glory."</em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>-Exodus 33:15-18</em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-74079454694165209262012-04-11T20:51:00.000-07:002012-04-11T20:51:30.865-07:00My heart. My passion.What am I passionate about?<br />
<br />
I am passionate about Jesus Christ. I am passionate about sharing His love, and I am passionate about knowing Him better. I am passionate about letting this passion consume me--to have "Leslie" burned away and Jesus built within mee. I am passionate about falling more and more in love with the God that gave me hope, the God that gave me beauty. The God that took the wreck of my life and said, "I can do something with this."<br />
<br />
What am I passionate about?<br />
<br />
I am passionate about people. I love people! I love to be around people and love on people. I like to make them smile and laugh, to help people trust, to lift up other people and help them to feel loved. I am passionate about spending time with people--any time is a good time.<br />
<br />
<strong>What am I passionate about?</strong><br />
<br />
I am passionate about mentorship. I am passionate about living heart-to-heart with young girls and pouring all of my love into them. I am passionate about helping girls grow deeper with their Creator, to actually know Him and not just about Him. I am passionate on being transparent with these girls--putting my bumps and bruises, broken hearts and bad history in front of them... so they can heal. So they can learn from my screw-ups.<br />
<br />
<strong>What am I passionate about?</strong><br />
<br />
I am passionate about lifting others up. I can find good in almost everyone, and I want them to see it in themselves, too. I want to be a chearleader in life--to celebrate with others in their accomplishments, to encourage them when they're down. I am passionate about using my words to lift up the people around me.<br />
<br />
<strong>What am I passionate about?</strong> <br />
<br />
I am passionate about passion. I am passionate about pushing my own boundaries, 'cause I get way too comfortable. I am passionate about being full of life and loving what I do. I am passionate about not just watching my life slide through my fingertips.<br />
<br />
<strong>What am I passionate about?</strong><br />
<br />
<em>"My goal is that they may be encouraged in heart and united in love, so that they may have the full riches of complete understanding, in order that they may know the mystory of God, namely, <strong>Christ</strong>"</em> (Colossians 2:2)lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-64905914599426447752012-04-07T22:08:00.001-07:002012-04-07T22:10:05.890-07:00The Little ThingsI remember the first time I saw the skirt. Window-shopping, I spot an ankle-length, pure-white hippie skirt across the aisle and my breath stops. <em>It's just so beautiful! Maybe I could sacrifice ten or fifteen bucks... oh my goodness, it's</em> <em><strong>thirty dollars</strong>?</em> <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij2oCQ_2l_mVUZo-PFKLdFr17wwNxBU04T2IrreR2TDdjeYcLSawJNJG86pp6s8gUXM1hfs59UebzrfEZ249FU2LTZL5FkvIzxYdUZzi30yRYLX58p1SAXRNhlDD_Jd4rJFB9tjpMJqL8/s1600/0326120929_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij2oCQ_2l_mVUZo-PFKLdFr17wwNxBU04T2IrreR2TDdjeYcLSawJNJG86pp6s8gUXM1hfs59UebzrfEZ249FU2LTZL5FkvIzxYdUZzi30yRYLX58p1SAXRNhlDD_Jd4rJFB9tjpMJqL8/s200/0326120929_0001.jpg" width="200" /></a>There's just no way I can spare that kind of money--especially on something that I don't technically need. With my mission trip coming up in two months, I needed to be saving every penny. After all, if I'm asking other people to sacrifice their own finances for this trip, I should be doing the same thing.<br />
<br />
...but man, I want that skirt <strong>so</strong> bad.<br />
<br />
<br />
Determined to find a better price, I go home and search the internet for "ankle-length white skirts," "hippie skirts," and even "artsy white skirts." Yet every option was the same price or more! Since when did skirts become so dang expensive? <br />
<br />
<br />
Two weeks passed, and I couldn't get this silly skirt off my mind.<br />
<br />
<br />
That's how I found myself back at the department store again, holding up the skirt in my hands like a dainty silver necklace. "Please, <em>God, provide this for me if I'm supposed to have it. If I'm not, just make me okay with that. After all, it's just a skirt." </em>I whisper this prayer softly as I gently put the skirt back on its rack. I run my fingertips down the white material and slowly turn away. <em>I don't know if or how You plan on providing this... maybe a gift card or something?</em><br />
<br />
I kept this little secret in my heart. Somehow, I just knew it wasn't time to tell anyone yet.<br />
<br />
Plus, I didn't want to look silly because I prayed over a skirt.<br />
<br />
<br />
Later that night, I spent hours writing out support letters to send to friends and family members. Suddenly, my mother enters the room and puts a long, flowing, white hippie skirt in my lap--then proceeds to walk away like it was no big deal! <br />
<br />
Freaking out, I jump up and ask her where she bought it. "Actually, I bought it two years ago, but accidentally got it in the wrong size! I just found it in a box of old summer things and realized it would fit you. Do you like it?"<br />
<br />
<br />
Even in something so small, I know that God provided this gift for me. There's no other way to explain how my mom bought a skirt two years in advance would just so happen to fit me... and she found it mere hours after I prayed over the skirt.<br />
<br />
"Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. <span class="woj">If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!" (Luke 12:17-18)</span><br />
<br />
Oh, and did I mention that it's even cuter than the one in the store?? <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHWX7G-nf40Bkyt71PhGGtfwwHrAgvmHKzKBnyK5gvM6p03PWLuFp0PermA16Cy5CVlHiiwGr5fRVoEYgi6zWIpE2eFKviTgO-L3ALvq6S2_9rXL9wMsUHYK9nsv3ca-Wxwsd1UY2_f8/s1600/0326120929b_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHWX7G-nf40Bkyt71PhGGtfwwHrAgvmHKzKBnyK5gvM6p03PWLuFp0PermA16Cy5CVlHiiwGr5fRVoEYgi6zWIpE2eFKviTgO-L3ALvq6S2_9rXL9wMsUHYK9nsv3ca-Wxwsd1UY2_f8/s400/0326120929b_0001.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-44845644418030289502012-04-03T22:30:00.022-07:002012-04-13T06:43:26.200-07:00Czech Republic 2012<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH0zxDLl8WN9Y7z46p1iEVczuDGeBEjVmk_Jd_cmJMPbUNGRU-QRJIhX_RauKhc6s6NB4xr6wANppO8Me4QTTks_q9KAfDOzHq7heZiOEG11-k_ImahlxX0DYL-zSFDlHSQ3KLAaPstgQ/s1600/043+edit+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH0zxDLl8WN9Y7z46p1iEVczuDGeBEjVmk_Jd_cmJMPbUNGRU-QRJIhX_RauKhc6s6NB4xr6wANppO8Me4QTTks_q9KAfDOzHq7heZiOEG11-k_ImahlxX0DYL-zSFDlHSQ3KLAaPstgQ/s200/043+edit+1.JPG" width="150" /></a><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">Dobr</span></i><span lang="cs-CZ"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">ý</span></i></span><i><span style="font-weight: normal;"> den!</span></i> I am excited to share the news about what God is doing in my life this summer:<br />
<br />
I will be in the Czech Republic on an extended 60-day mission trip from mid-June until August. While there, I will be teaching English in both one-on-one English lessons for women and youth camps. While teaching, my goal is to build relationships with the Czech people and share the good news of Jesus Christ with them. The Czech Republic is the most atheistic country in the world, but we have seen significant openness in the hearts of the Czech teens...of which I will be getting to know!<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-right: -0.01in;">I'm asking for you to support me spiritually through prayer and encouragement. I recognize that “our struggle is not against <span style="font-weight: normal;">flesh and blood...</span>but<b> </b>against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:12). For this trip to be successful, I need all of the prayer support that I can get! </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-right: -0.01in;"></div><br />
<h4 style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-right: 1.78in; margin-top: 0.04in;">Prayer List:</h4><ul><li> That God will prepare me spiritually and emotionally in the time leading up to this trip</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">That the hearts of the Czech people will be open to the gospel</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Against spiritual warfare that will seek to discourage me</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">For travel safety and physical health</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">That God will provide encouragement and friendship for me while I am there</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">That others will feel a calling to the Czech people -- the harvest is many, but the workers are few (Luke 10:2)</div></li>
</ul><h4> </h4><h4>Financial need: $0 -- how can this be??</h4><br />
God has completely provided the finances I need to go on my trip this summer! Yes: $3,200!! Largely through one generous donor, I am now fully funded... two months in advance!<br />
<br />
If anyone still feels inclined to send some financial support, there are five other people from my church (including both of my parents) that will be joining me for two weeks in August. They each need to raise about $1,900 throughout the next few months. Any funds sent to me from now on (because God has already provided everything I need!), I will be putting towards the rest of my team as they also follow God into the Czech Republic this summer.<br />
<br />
<br />
<h4 align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Interested in supporting the team financially?</h4><div style="text-align: center;">For a tax write-off, make all checks payable to <em>Mosaic Church</em>, and send them to:<br />
</div><h3 style="text-align: center;">Leslie Goyer<br />
14524 Cantrell Rd Suite 140<br />
Little Rock, AR 72223</h3><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><h3 style="text-align: center;">If you would like to contact me or receive updates, email me at:<br />
<a href="mailto:leslie@thegoyers.com">leslie@thegoyers.com</a>.</h3><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-FhoUkxaN6-NwcBvl0Toz8xLn-iODqtbR0ZdEWDGa_6FbVyEMbJyw6PWoqKw9272t_EHkpwwJAdl715y5EO0mdH8WmwU6rdZQ8S4AOeZ3AB2GW4hfFJU7Ov-1ssXXJv3RMVBcIhQHMc/s1600/181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-FhoUkxaN6-NwcBvl0Toz8xLn-iODqtbR0ZdEWDGa_6FbVyEMbJyw6PWoqKw9272t_EHkpwwJAdl715y5EO0mdH8WmwU6rdZQ8S4AOeZ3AB2GW4hfFJU7Ov-1ssXXJv3RMVBcIhQHMc/s400/181.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me with several of the Czech friends I made during last summer's trip</td></tr>
</tbody></table>lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com0Czech Republic49.5953879 17.25187210000001449.5331854 17.135380100000013 49.6575904 17.368364100000015tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-73478239406887142782012-04-03T19:16:00.001-07:002012-04-03T19:18:01.924-07:00No JunkRomantic relationships have always been the most difficult part of my life for me to surrender to God. When I pray for my future husband, I often can feel the war waging inside of me which I can't reconcile. There's the good side: the side that wants to trust God with His plans for my life. Then there's the bad side, the “Leslie” side: the part of me that wants to make things happen in <em>my</em> own time, with the guy <em>I</em> happen to be interested in, in the way that <em>I </em>want things to happen.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> I spent this past weekend with seventy middle and high school students at a youth retreat. (This is relevant, I promise.) Our first night, Jeff Kinley (the guest speaker) spent some time talking about Adam and Eve and how they were the basis for our sin nature. As he was talking about this first couple, he made a joke that Adam must've named Eve “woman” because all he could say when he first saw her was “Whoa... man! Whoa-man! Wo-man!!” </div><br />
All the youth laughing at this point, he went on to say, “You know, Adam and Eve were the perfect people—God don't make no junk! And it will be the same for all of you when you get married: God don't make no junk.”<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">For some reason, that comment stuck in my head throughout the entire weekend—and has been on my mind ever since. As I mentioned before, I struggle with trusting God in the area of guys. Not that there has really been any significant others lately... which is precisely the problem! With college graduation nearing, I've been wondering what I will do once school is through—and marriage, of course, is vying for a place at the top of my attention-list. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Yet, the more I focus on trying to find a husband the more frustrated I get. Either the guy isn't interested in me, or there aren't any available men that care even remotely about Jesus... I just can't get things to work out, you know?</div><br />
There was a second thing Jeff mentioned during this weekend that touched my heart. When he became a Christian, he feared that God would look at his life say, “Alright, let's take the ten things you love most in life and throw those out the window. Now let's take the ten things you don't want to do and make you do those every day.” <br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">His point was this: God's not like that.</div><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5w4OQTELhhF7v7VyQYXEYVlEVzzp5gS67fFJTBQJoLAcHaVfftqcCkZNWrF1thMvkjJf2rIjYwd_Gfxho6MpMzuI0rvu4jMjLL6G2HGtjqELQJ-X7ZwcETlDgM7pwTP73rpg1YH-7w0/s1600/0401122120a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5w4OQTELhhF7v7VyQYXEYVlEVzzp5gS67fFJTBQJoLAcHaVfftqcCkZNWrF1thMvkjJf2rIjYwd_Gfxho6MpMzuI0rvu4jMjLL6G2HGtjqELQJ-X7ZwcETlDgM7pwTP73rpg1YH-7w0/s320/0401122120a.jpg" width="240" /></a> If I trust God to take care of my relationship status, I don't think that the Creator and God of the Universe—who loves me enough to <strong>die</strong> for me—would stick me with a boring, unattractive, unromantic, chauvinistic, lazy man. <i>God don't make no junk</i>. By trusting in Him, I'm trusting that He will fulfill my heart.</div><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“What romance, beauty, and glory we forgo when we try to script the story ourselves. God has not called us to build our lives around the pursuit of our own selfish desires, but to be poured-out sacrifices for His kingdom” (Leslie Ludy, <em>Sacred Singleness</em>). During the rest of my time as a single woman—whether another year or two or twenty—I want to pour out my life for the Kingdom of Jesus Christ. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
He's the best man I know, after all.</div>lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-65747126612766862692012-02-28T18:32:00.001-08:002012-02-29T05:00:21.310-08:00The Other Side of "Mom"<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>It is a sunny February day, and I walk into our family dining room. My mother is sitting at her usual seat, plunking away at her laptop while my nearly two year old sister, Alyssa, sits at the other end of the table picking at her mac 'n cheese. Mom looks up at me, “I'm ready for my interview! But you'll have to do it while I tidy up the living room.” She gets up, wearing her usual sweat pants and t-shirt, with her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. It still surprises me sometimes that my mother is not simply “mom.” She is also Tricia Goyer (a.k.a award-winning author).</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> I settle into the couch, pen and paper in hand. “Okay, I'm ready. First question—”</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> “Oh Leslie,” my mom says, “get your laptop. You know you'll be able to take notes faster with it.” I chuckle and run up to my room, quickly returning with my small laptop in tow.</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> “First question, mom: how did you first get interested in writing?”</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> “I have tons of blogs written about this that I could just send you to! But I'll tell you, myself.” She picks up a few of Alyssa's books from the floor and stacks them in a wicker basket. “I grew up loving to read, but I never really thought about becoming a writer. When I was young, oh, probably 21 or so,” she pauses and tilts her head while she thinks (a tendency that she passed down to me), “Yes, 21 is right! Because I was still pregnant with you. Anyways, I was serving in church with your Aunt Cindy, and she was telling me about a novel she was wanting to write. When I heard her talking about it, I started thinking about it too! It would be a great project since I was already a stay-at-home mom... Hold on one second.” She steps out of the room to put a few things in the kitchen.</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> I finish writing a few notes then she returns. </strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>“So what did you do then? Did you immediately start working on a novel, too?” </strong></span><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> “Well, kind of. I borrowed books on writing from the library and went to a few writer's conferences with Cindy. We went to one secular conference, and they were talking about building connections with publishers: taking them out for drinks, having a bikini hot tub time... we were like, no way!” She laughs, because we both understand how uncharacteristic it would be for her to go hot tubbing with business partners. “After that, we looked into Christian writer's conferences and found Mount Hermon Christian Writer's Conference. They had just finished their conference and the next one was a year away, so we started saving up so that we could go.”</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> Alyssa finished her mac 'n cheese, so mom wiped down her hands and face before turning back to me. “We went to Mount Hermon in 1994, and I talked to several editors about submitting articles. I got my first one published! It was for Life & Light magazine, and the title was <i>Greatest Commandment, Part II.</i> It was about how we focus so much on loving God, but we need to also remember to love others.”</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> I nod in agreement. “That's so true!”</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> She turns back to look at me, “I was very excited about it. But I didn't get another thing published for two and a half more years.”</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> Surprised, I look up at her from my notes, “Two and a half more years? What did you do?”</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> “I wrote a lot of articles, but none of them ever got published. I kept trying to write for what I thought the publisher wanted, but then they would change their mind.”</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> I find myself intrigued—I never realized how much of a struggle it was for my mom to get started. “What was the turning point for you?”</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> “In a writing conference I went to that year, I took a class that was focused just on writing articles. I learned a lot from that class, and in the next year I had thirty articles published! I tried venturing into novels after that, but again I struggled with getting published.”<br />
</strong></span></div><div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>“My biggest step came a little while later when I went to Europe with my friends and learned about the 11<span style="font-size: small;"><sup>th</sup> Armored Division in World War II. I pitched a novel idea to my agent, and she said it was such a good idea! I think the reason none of my previous novel ideas worked is because God did not want me to get success in other areas. He had other plans for me.”</span></strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> “Wow, that's so awesome! Now you are an accomplished author.” I remind myself that's she's had over thirty books published now. “What is the hardest part of your work?” </strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> Mom takes a break from putting away the cluttered toys and thinks for a moment. “Not having enough time. I could just write 60 hours a week and keep myself completely busy. The publishers are coming to <i>me</i> now with book ideas, and I'm constantly having to turn down different book projects—including books for movies.” She sighs and tosses a pillow onto the couch. “That's actually the number one thing I get asked to speak about: how to balance kids and working at home. But what I've learned is that family is important. When you take care of your family, God helps you with your writing.”</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> I think about all of the time that my mother put into raising me and my siblings, homeschooling all of us as an extra weight. She continues, “One time—about eight or so years ago—I was working on an intense book deadline that was due in just two days. And grandma had to go to Wal*Mart. I took her, and at the end of our trip, I sat at the end of the aisle waiting for her. Getting madder and madder. In that moment, as my frustration grew, I felt God speak to my heart that taking care of my family is just as important as my deadlines. So now I try not to get so stressed, and if a book doesn't get done in time, I will just ask for a few days more. The most I've asked an extension for is about two weeks.”</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> “In spite of the stress, what is your favorite part about writing?”</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> The corners of her mouth perk up into a gentle smile. “I love working on the characters, their problems, researching the stories. When working on a book, I often don't know how things are going to work out, but things come together.” I see a warm contentedness settle over her. “And of course the reader feedback. One time, I got an email from a young girl in Switzerland who read one of my books. She told me that when my character became a Christian, she did too.”</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div lang="en" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> It was an eye-opening experience to interview my mom on her career work. Growing up, all I've ever known was her as a writer. However, in interviewing her I discovered the hard work and struggle that went into her success. I often look at her and see a stay-at-home mom that does the laundry, cares for the baby, and makes dinner. She's more than just a mom. She's also a professional author that has seen great success in her career.</strong></span> <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwyGCI8Xrtg5N-9EPUFOG8uL2pHKF8WkSe8rgkiRa4e2TqZ_xot2T68nN2CrMA-xinAuwr19XRQ41XB9Nsn-u1J4znnpXhHRGHEPhxWCB6LYHfnOVtmcHNHPJwU3mS2VmvZfjQ8BL7kuw/s1600/me+and+mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwyGCI8Xrtg5N-9EPUFOG8uL2pHKF8WkSe8rgkiRa4e2TqZ_xot2T68nN2CrMA-xinAuwr19XRQ41XB9Nsn-u1J4znnpXhHRGHEPhxWCB6LYHfnOVtmcHNHPJwU3mS2VmvZfjQ8BL7kuw/s400/me+and+mom.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4803378003260809718.post-10040860933216795372012-01-31T20:10:00.000-08:002012-01-31T20:23:29.670-08:00Culture Shock<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffILGgiAnF1LtjjJvCWvWixs9BGXdaoL2BzP_A_cAD4o98SqfKwSyFyojigf8ZuohXt0URAZpx0mtmquqGUUsYMBXqyLTA4ndYK9i-oQc9vip1CHuBzF0Y9LAHeRbqr20HGXj6gRo1a4/s1600/079+edit+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffILGgiAnF1LtjjJvCWvWixs9BGXdaoL2BzP_A_cAD4o98SqfKwSyFyojigf8ZuohXt0URAZpx0mtmquqGUUsYMBXqyLTA4ndYK9i-oQc9vip1CHuBzF0Y9LAHeRbqr20HGXj6gRo1a4/s200/079+edit+3.JPG" width="161" /></a> “As you experience this new culture, you are going to encounter many differences. Remember that things may not be necessarily wrong or right—just different.”</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin-bottom: 0in;">I was sixteen years old when I heard these words of wisdom. Although it took me a long time to really believe them, these words have since changed my life forever. My junior year of high school, my family took in Andrea—a foreign exchange student from the Czech Republic. Since she was only six months older than me, we became immediate friends. No, wait. Somehow, more than friends. Andy is more to me than just an “exchange student.” Andy is my sister. Aside from lacking a blood relation, Andy has become my sister in every sense of the word.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">When she arrived that fall, I did not live out the advice given to me. For months, little irritations built up inside of me and compounded frustration. Natively from Eastern Europe, Andy did things in a way that was just... wrong! She wouldn't use the sheets on her bed, she made salads without any lettuce, and she would wear the same outfit two days in the row... ridiculous, I know! Irritation itched at my patience, and I just couldn't understand why she didn't do things my way—the “right way.” I would run to make the dinner salad so I could fill the bowl with lettuce before she got there. Maybe now she'll learn!</div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrzY3DyRYS_AiWDuj23yHFxQUCr0YX8_eV7dWqpoo1VBJMtcJZqsjLsk7xiqELFaAlnwKD2nYvRoeH94xnlkuz1dNqyDT0p_aDOMzSIE1lXThMf9bbVmh3pUv2lhPJU5fd9ty8uypJndE/s1600/058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrzY3DyRYS_AiWDuj23yHFxQUCr0YX8_eV7dWqpoo1VBJMtcJZqsjLsk7xiqELFaAlnwKD2nYvRoeH94xnlkuz1dNqyDT0p_aDOMzSIE1lXThMf9bbVmh3pUv2lhPJU5fd9ty8uypJndE/s200/058.JPG" width="150" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I did eventually learn patience throughout that year, but the biggest lesson was yet to come. After she returned to her home country, I found myself deeply missing her—differences and all. I went to visit her in Prague, and I lived with <i>her</i> family. Finally, I understood. Immersing myself into her culture revealed the truth: not wrong, just different. I have since been to the Czech Republic four times, and I can't wait to go back again. I've learned to enjoy the freshness of different traditions and lifestyles, and it's opened my eyes to the truth that the “American” way does not always equal the “right” way.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I believe that every person should step out of their own culture and deeply experience another one. Like St. Augustine said, “the world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.”</div><br />
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<em><span style="font-size: x-small;">*A short story written for my nonfiction class--described as a "statement of belief" from a specific example in my life. The format is similar to that from </span></em><a href="http://www.thisibelieve.com/"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://www.thisibelieve.com/</span></em></a>lesliegoyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05836685143857881398noreply@blogger.com4