I give you 4 shirts. You give me $4,000 ??

In 1990, I went to the University of the Nations in Kailua-Kona, Hawaii for discipleship school and cross-cultural evangelism training. Our class had students from all over the world. One couple was from Sweden and I noticed they (and their children) wore the same clothes all the time.

Somehow, I reasoned that this family must not have many clothes or much money. I went shopping and bought each person in their family some new shirts. Being raised poor and being teased about clothes as a child, I carried a hyper-sensitivity about this.

I gave them the shirts one afternoon and they were SO thankful to receive these gifts. I was happy for them and never dreamed I had missed something culturally.

I was puzzled that this family didn't begin wearing their new shirts. It seemed like forever before the shirts made an appearance. When it finally happened, they wore them happily and I was relieved because I thought I might have offended them!

When the instruction part of the school was coming to a close, the outreach portion of the study was presented: two months in a foreign country to serve and reach another culture. Problem: I didn't have money for this part of the training!

There were many students who felt they were to go on outreach, but didn't have the funds. All of those names were put up on a wall for the school to pray over. Guess who paid my fee? Yep, the Swedish couple. 

                              (humble, humble, humble...)

What I learned was giving the shirts didn't meet a 'wardrobe' need for them--but touched them on a friendship, belonging level.  I gave out of one perception and it went to a place I didn't even realize.

What matters is God has His way. Over the years, I have reviewed this life story many times. Sometimes we act out of what we see; other times we act out of what we know. But what is important is that we act; not out of judgment but out of compassion and love.

None of us want to be insensitive or offensive--so there is the risk of being misunderstood. But what legacy awaits those who don't act at all? If we do nothing, we limit what we learn. If we don't try, we don't grow. If we make mistakes---and a list of mine would fill a blogger's universe---we hope those who love us will give us grace.

For all the times I have "missed it", I feel a thud in my heart--and I heave a prayer to God asking Him to make things right where I never could. And for all of you who have shown me grace, THANK YOU!!

If any of you ever need some grace, someone to listen... or a tacky Hawaiian shirt, just let me know. I can hook you up. :)

 

When I Was a Cowgirl in Hawaii

In the late 80s, I was a cowgirl. Well, not really--but I often dressed like one. I was a youth pastor and a lot of our home-town kids were into going to rodeos and cow-stuff.  So, "When in East Texas... do as the East Texans do." I wore Rocky Mountain jeans, had Justin Roper boots (with matching belts, of course) and went to rodeos.

I was good friends with a couple who owned a local western wear store. It was a popular place to shop and hang out--and the man who owned it was a well-known professional rodeo dude. One late afternoon, I was helping them relocate to their new, larger store and he was out in the front trying to raise the big Justin Roper boot sign by the highway. He was attempting to hoist this sign by using a tractor. We heard an awful sound and ran out to find the sign had fallen on him--across his back. He was not moving. He was turning a horrible color and his eyes were desperate and bulging. I will never forget his expression.

I yelled for people to go get help and I put my hand on him and began to pray. I told him he would live and not die. I screamed for him to "LIVE! LIVE!" and kept praying and quoting every scripture that would come to mind. After what seemed like forever, the ambulance carried him away and his wife and I followed to the ER.

He survived--but with horrible breaks in his back and he was in very critical condition for a week in ICU. His wife and I lived on the floor in ICU as we prayed and fought for his life--visiting him whenever we were allowed to see him.

He had to learn to walk again. To care about living again--through all the pain. He was hospitalized for a long time and then moved to rehabilitation. It changed everything for their lives. But he managed to get to the other side and give testimony of God's grace in saving him.

He was interviewed by a pro-rodeo magazine so he could tell his story. He told them that he died but he could hear me shouting for him to LIVE... and he snapped back... knowing he was not to die yet.

(We were good friends--always kidding around and I said, "NO! I was saying 'LEAVE!', not 'LIVE!'"  hahaha That was our joke. He said, "Ohhhhh! You are going to have to repent!!!"  He was right.)

When he was strong enough to manage the store again, he sent me and his wife to Hawaii for 7 days -- one day for each night we spent sleeping on the floor in the ICU waiting room. It was a great trip! The whales were rolling in the ocean, we went out on a private yacht that had been owned by Marlon Brando, we took a dinner cruise, went to a luau, took a small plane to Maui for a hike/picnic excursion, snorkeled, climbed Diamond Head (Yes, I did!), went to Pearl Harbor, saw Mt. Kilauea erupting as we flew over it in a helicopter... Yep, this was no ICU floor!

During the entire trip, as we enjoyed all the wonders that were around every corner, we marveled the most at how God saved her husband's life. We were so humbled and amazed at God's goodness.

And Hawaii wasn't that bad, either!