Rhythms of Grace

Let's risk the ocean, there's only grace. 
What would our lives be like if we constantly depended solely on grace? What would MY life be like?
What if I wholeheartedly let the hands that cradle the stars hold me too?


It's been two days since we've been back from the Amazon and I've yet to process everything that went on in my mind and heart. Yet, I know His grace stands.


He died for me. How I wish I had the words to express what I feel when I think of His death on the cross for us all. No words would suffice. My thoughts are filled with the fact that there is nothing I can do but hold on to the love that led him to the cross; The love that led him to carry my every burden.
My only choice is to fall on my knees in awe of his glory and love.
A story of love hung on a tree, and even through the pain and heartbreak Jesus dealt with, He still shows that we were worth every nail.
And I hurt.
I hurt because it was my sin that pierced the hands that hold the universe.
I hurt because I know my sin will crucify him once more.
During this time, I've come to realize that my happiness if found in less of me and more of Him.
As He was crucified and buried, I am to do the same thing.
Christianity --I see as time goes by-- is a call to death.
And my eyes are open to a simple yet extremely complex fact: nails didn't hold Jesus to the cross. Love did. 


I must raise a knife to the things I love most and even then, I must raise it to my own life, so it may be Christ living in me instead.
Sunday is soon approaching, and with that, light comes. Light within a tomb. Light in spite of death. With the light came life. And just as darkness was overwhelmed, now the decay of death was reversed. Heavenly breezes blow across the Earth and Jesus breathes. His lungs expand and contract. His dried lips open. Stiff joints begin to move once again. His heart pumps full of blood and life...it pumps love for all his creation; for every single one of us.
And as we take time to envision the moment, we fall in awe.
We fall in awe of what has happened and what we now have come to know.
We know...I know that death will never have the last word again.
And with this, I sigh, and die.
Christ comes alive in me and I am no longer myself, but more of Christ.
And we begin to move along with the rhythms of grace.
The waves of grace that lead me to the love and forgiveness displayed on the cross.
Ocean of grace...it has no shore.
There is no limits when it comes to grace.
It comes like an avalanche seeking to give life through death.
And even if the death that we must go through...may it be well with our souls. 


May this event, this life-changing and heart-consuming event, stir our affections for Jesus.
May we look upon the cross, while our own hangs over our shoulder, and see the hope that was so willingly displayed on a tree.

Breaking the Silence

(This isn't exactly about the trip per se)

Mosquitos. Heat.Jungle. A desire to break the silence in the corner of Colombia. The silence was broken there this week, and so was the silence in my own heart.

I found myself in Leticia again after almost a full year of being away. The joy that I thought would fill my heart when I stepped out of the plane was not the what filled my heart. Instead, I was overwhelmed with pain. I hurt for the place that I've come to love so much over the last 3 years. I hurt because they hurt. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks and I could no longer breathe: this was possibly the last time I would see their faces and their smiles for the next 4-5 years. 

As I hugged Monica (YWAM coordinator), I remembered the beauty that my eyes had been opened to 3 years ago and meagerly tried to embrace it. But I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to embrace it like I once did because I knew that this was my last chance to do so. I didn't want to be vulnerable in a place where I couldn't help but be just that a year ago. 

As hours flew by and familiar faces blurred my vision, we walked to the orphanage (Aljaba). And there we were...surrounded by a significantly few familiar faces and an overwhelming number of new faces. I felt...new. I felt like I was starting from scratch again, in a place where I lived for a month and a half 2 summers ago. This was the beginning of many doubts: did I make an kind of significant impact while I was here? Can the love that I showed be so easily forgotten? And as many other thoughts began to place themselves in my mind, my heart was telling me otherwise. It WASN'T about the love that I showed...it was about God did while I was there. It wasn't about whether or not what I did and who I am will be easily forgotten by the children that I poured my heart out for, it was about what their Heavenly Father did for them and how much of Himself He gave for them. It wasn't about me at all. Talk about a crazy mind vs. heart battle. Saying goodbye to the kids so we could head back to the YWAM base for a night out, I realized that when that door would close behind me, even if I wasn't going to be there...the Lord shall be forever working and molding their lives (we weren't able to see the kids the next day since most of them had gone home for some time and the ones that were there were in the middle of a complex activity that couldn't be interrupted).

Certain parts of the trip are kind of a blur. When I stop and think about what we did everyday, the movie that plays in my head skips scenes, almost as if I was there without really being there. Now I see, as much as I strongly dislike to accept it, I regret  (for a lack of a better word) the fact that I shut myself out from connecting to the place that the Lord used so explicitly in my growth in Him. Baaah. I do not like what I'm about to write at all, but I disconnected myself from HIM. And I felt it. I knew that I was just..walking, breathing, and even laughing and crying without really living. Even so, my chest was burning and heaving. It was like my pulse was ceasing, like my heart had quit beating. I was disgusted with how easily I can disconnect myself from the people that surround me. I suddenly felt my heart being gripped by the fear that I wasn't allowing myself to feel...one of the things that I prayed about the most before the trip. Yet, that's exactly what I was doing. I wasn't allowing myself to feel because I knew that I'd break if I did. 

I closed my eyes for a second (a second during which Andrew and I played some worship music while being on the boat, had different conversations, composed random songs, laughed, sat in silence) and all of the sudden, we were entering Zaragoza. Seeing the river cover the field where different games were played with all the kids a year back was a reminder of the pain that my brothers and sisters were feeling. You see, the Amazon River was the highest it had ever been in the last 55 years. This caused different diseases to develop, including malaria, which is one that they never had to deal with in that part of the jungle before. Families were dying because of it. Pain and tears took hold of my heart and then a dark voice filled my ears"Don't feel, Diana." And so I didn't. 

After unpacking everything and setting up the tents, I made my way to the kitchen to help make dinner. How I missed cooking over fire, having to fan the wood every now and then, having my eyes water from the insane amount of smoke that filled the air and memories from last summer and the beauty I saw flooded back. Once again, a reminder to not be open took hold of my mind and I shut down. I was like a fanning machine that only worried about if the pasta needed more salt or not. As Leyder, one of the kids from the village, constantly asked to help with something in the kitchen, I began to see -- once again-- the heart of the Father for his children. At that moment, I knew that I had to push aside any doubt, any fear, and anything else that could hold me back from feeling and allow the Lord to use me. Coming to that conclusion was a lot easier that actually doing something about it. Thinking all my good deeds could please the Father. Boy, was I wrong. I knew I wasn't doing anything. I wasn't doing anything even though MY INTENTION WAS TO DO EVERYTHING. I was warring with God as His question suddenly echoed in my heart: "What have you done for me?" We made our way across the river to Peru (Puerto Alegre) and the atmosphere completely changed. I became instantly exhausted and I was still sitting on the boat. During the time that we were there for the medical brigade I could do nothing and think nothing. I just prayed. I prayed even though I had shut down. I prayed that the darkness that filled that place would one day be pierced by God's transforming love. I hoped it would. And that was all I could do. 

(Maybe I hadn't shut down completely completely)

Mosquitoes no longer bothered me. The heat was something that I no longer found unbearable. Walking around the village alone in the rain (yes, I know I shouldn't have been doing that), I came face to face with the most horrible creature I had ever seen:myself. I saw how...blaaaaah, I actually am. I saw the pride that had made its home in my heart, I saw all my insecurities, flaws, and failures. Yet this I recalled to mind and therefore I have hope:You died, Lord. Nothing and no one else could make my mistakes beautiful. No one could give me the kind of opportunity that my Father gave me at that very moment. It wasn't about being open with those around me...it was about being open with HIM before all. So as the raindrops hid my tears, everything I am made itself visible to God at that very moment and I KNEW, that I would never go back. 

My smiles became genuine, my heart was lighter, and as I the children during the last night service we had jump up and down and sing, there was no doubt in my mind that one day, they'll be making a way for a beautiful collision to take place in the place that they call home. 

We packed up the next day and made our way to 2 de Mayo. Once again, the strumming and picking of guitar strings filled the air as pink dolphins jumped in and out of the water and as prayers were said and whispered to the ears of the One who always listens. The river, as I mentioned earlier, was the highest it had ever been. The water was up to the pastor's house in 2 de Mayo (it even began to flood it). People moved around in their canoes and kids splashed and swam in the water. Some of the guys instantly jumped in with them and in a matter of minutes (after people were placed in different homes and tents were set up) most of the team was in the water playing with the kids as well. The atmosphere here is absolutely different. You feel love and see light in almost everyone in the village. The pastor is a great man of faith and one who is willing to serve no matter the cost. You see the growth and transformation different lives have been through and you can't help but be reminded of God's faithfulness. He never fails. He always loves. And He molds that lives that are willing to be changed. My prayer for this village is that they will one day rise up and shine their light among the villages that are around them and even the furthest ones from them. 

In the midst of the silence the night before we left, a proclamation was made louder than the loudest temptation: God is more than enough. The power that I can experience is the same one that rose Him from the dead, meaning I could be raised from the death that I placed myself in during the beginning of the trip. Voices. Joyful voices proclaimed the glory of the Lord after watching Courageous, a movie showing the beauty that a family can hold when centered on the cross of Christ. Joyful voices in 3 different languages called out to the One that defeated death. Joyful voices, as sure as the coming of the dawn, praised the Father's love song that drowned out all our bitter songs; a song swooped in to break the walls and barriers as is came to pick up His bride and woe her once more. A song that broke the silence that has overwhelmed this broken shell of a world and my heart for the first days on this trip. 

Suddenly, you hear a great slam. 

The great battle was won.
It is done. 

The silence has been broken.
My heart has been molded.

It has been filled with something that I still can't come to describe. 

It was done with more beauty that words could portray.
What was done was more eternal than eternity itself.
More angelic the the angels in the heavens. 
It was done for me.
It was done for the people of 2 de Mayo, Puerto Alegre, and Zaragoza.

I had no choice but to accept it.
Rejoice along with the joyful voices around me, breaking the silence along with them.

Freedom came.

I felt.

My heart broke and I felt again. I felt the sadness of not coming back, and at the same time, the joy of being there once again.
And as goodbyes were said and hugs were given; as the plane took off and I found myself no longer in Leticia; I knew that the silence was broken for good for freedom beyond the imaginable had come. 

The souls of the team that went were commissioned with an uncontrollable fire to save the lost. 

Our eyes were opened to the reason why we are alive.
We followed God together. 

He opened the heavens and poured out more of Himself on the villages we visited and our own lives. 
I pray that the fire that is now burning in us does not go out with a simple breeze. 

Shall we forever sing of His love and allow our lives to be a song that breaks the silence, even in the deepest and darkest corners of the world.

He revealed his heart to me and I pray that my heart with continues to beat just as His does.

Getting Dirty

A couple of weeks before we got out of school for Christmas, I was blessed by being able to have a short, yet touching conversation with a friend after prayer in our elective class.
One thing led to another and she mentioned something that only until now I've been able to process.

God was completely and absolutely willing to get His hands dirty with you. 

At the time, I wasn't sure if I should've taken it as an insult or if it was, in its own unique way, a compliment.
I sorta pushed it aside for a while, but no matter how hard I pushed, the statement seemed to push a little harder every time.
After a while, it was the only thing I would find myself thinking about.
God, the perfect One, getting His hands dirty with me...WILLINGLY.

It boggled my mind then and it still does.

You see, God gets His hands dirty with us because He loves us.
I remember thinking very strongly back in 9th grade that I had to clean myself up in order to be able to stand at the foot of the cross. As time went by, I began to see why the cross was there in the first place. I wasn't supposed to clean myself up before I went to the cross...its the cross itself where I find the One that provided that which I was to be cleansed by: the blood of God's one and only Son.
And it is this that overwhelms my heart, in every good sense of the word.
The cross; the love and freedom that it provides.
A love that brings us to our knees and a freedom to live a life worth of the calling that we've received.

And here we are, Christmas has gone by and our Savior was born.
A Savior that would get His hands dirty because of the love that He holds for us.
May we never let Him go.

With Jesus, change is inevitable

As of late, God has been asking me to change a lot of things.
Which is wonderful...but definitely hard.
To be honest, the hardest one has to do with the friendships that I hold on to and what I expect from them.
I've always expect people to care a certain amount about my life and what's going on it.

While in Leticia, feeling completely alone and forgotten at times, I began to realize that I can't just stand there and wait for people to love and care as much as I want them to.

Maybe I'm interpreting this completely wrong, but God first loved us. And personally, it was the way that He overwhelmed my heart with His love that led me to desire to love Him back.

I don't want to OVERWHELM someone with my love; that's what Jesus is doing. But I gotta show someone the love that I have for them. Period. Not because I want them to love me just as much or cause I want them to care. No. God sent His one and only Son to die for ALL. He doesn't expect for EVERYONE to turn around and love Him just as much. But He does desire for that to happen.

Anyway, maybe I went a little of track for a second.

So yeah, God has been asking me to really evaluate the reasons why I hold on to a friendship and if maybe I'm being completely selfish in certain ones.

Without mentioning names to save the innocent, God has asks me to let go of the way that I hold on to a specific friendship. My intentions of why I would hang out with them and why I would talk to them were extremely selfish.

It's definitely been hard.

This whole..process of letting go has been going on for a while.
And to be honest, there's times when I fail and fall flat on my face and get up more bruised that I used to be. But man, God is so faithful.

With every fall and getting up, He helps me realize something new about this certain friendship.

I feel like at this very moment, my intentions have made an indescribable shift. I feel like I can talk to the person without having second intentions. I feel like I can talk to them just for the sake of talking. I feel like I can be their friend just for the sake of being their friend. I don't know if that sounds wrong, but it's true. I mean, I can be their friend and well, that's it. I can be their friend and hopefully, we can both be blessed through the friendship that we share.

God has changed my heart and my life so much. Some changes have been really hard and some not AS hard. But change, man, it's a beautiful thing.

IT'S ONLY THE BEGINNING

It's been months since I've gotten back from the Amazons. And believe it or not, it still hasn't been enough time for me to process everything that happened there.
I find myself missing it a lot at times.
That's always hard.

I don't think I've ever written a blog about my every day life. It's a little strange, really. Having people read this is just a foreign thought.
But exciting.
Exciting because it's one of the many ways that I'll be able to share with people everything that God has been doing in my life and everything that He was been teaching me.It calls for brutal honesty.
Hard.
But wonderful.

This is basically an invitation to those who read it.
An invitation to be part of who I am and what God is doing in my life. An invitation to be -- one way or another-- part of my journey.
The journey will have bumps and obstacles to have to be faced; the journey will have certain storms to survive; the journey will also have sunrises and sunsets to remind me (and everyone involved) that God's mercies are new every morning.But above all, because it is God's love leading the way, this journey:
it will be beautiful.