Ten evidences of Jesus’ weakness

The other night, I struggled to sleep.  I went to bed praying about several situations. As I prayed, my heart was full of pain and my stomach was churning. Current losses and past fears were swirling together into a mishmash of emotion.

Finally, at 4 am, I pulled myself from under the warm covers, threw on a sweatshirt and came to my computer.  I typed these words as if Jesus was sending me a middle of the night Facebook message…

When I am weak, you are strong.

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Over the last week, I’ve been having a recurring dream.  Although it has different twists each night, the theme is the same.  I am in distress and I must get out of Africa. And various obstacles are making it impossible to leave.

Perhaps this was from watching the Last King of Scotland*—the gripping story of a physician who got embroiled with Idi Amin and figured out he was in danger a little too late.

Or maybe, although I’m out of Africa, Africa doesn’t want to let go of me!  As I told the church in Kenya, “We have Africa in our blood!”

I tend to think the dreams point to something deeper…a battle that still wages in my soul.  My desire (fine-honed from the time I was a little girl) to be strong enough to do God’s work…and God’s gentle nudging in response:  Robin, will you be weak enough?

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Have you ever had a time where you knew somehow that God was right there in your presence, speaking to you in your anxiety, but yet in the most unlikely, even laughable way?

We were returning home from speaking in St. Vincent and a few days of rest in beautiful Bequia. Having taken advantage of a four-hour layover in Antiqua to get a cab to an ocean side restaurant where we ate lunch, it was time to catch a cab back to the airport.

We walked down the beach and cut beside an ocean-side bar bustling with bikini-clad women and tanned men, where we were told there would be cabs. Dave and I were keeping our heads down and moving fast. We were running late and my heart was heavy (more in just a moment).   Continue reading →