Death's Relentless Pursuit

Death is:
 
                      Hard
           Permanent
   Empty
 
It is relentless.
 
It just might be the dang most ambitious thing any of us have ever laid eyes on. When it finalizes its attack, it stops at no one. It waits for nothing and frankly Scarlet, it just don’t give a damn about your plans. Let’s get real: death sucks to those of us left in its dust. 
I suppose we could thank death for its considerate warnings. After all, it often sends accidents, surgeries, and diseases to preface its unruly arrival. But we’re never really ready when it decides to grace disgrace us with its presence. “We knew it was coming, just not this soon,” seems to be one of the most common phrases uttered through tears at funeral services.
___________________________________________
As I stepped out of the car, I took a deep breath, for I knew what I was about to walk into. The night was hot, the air was thick, and every step closer to the door seemed heavier.  Walking in Papaw’s house I could tell others had been crying but for a moment, it was calm. Harold, Papaw’s dearest friend and caregiver, met me at the door of the dining room with a hug. “I told him you were coming in the morning,” He said, “I told him you were coming to read the Bible to him in the morning. But he just couldn’t wait.” For a brief second I was sad because I would have given anything to read one more Psalm and Proverb to Papaw. But before I could stop it, my mouth opened and out came, “There was no need for him to wait, he’s with the Real Thing right now.” 
 
I always was the curious type so when the coroner went back to see Papaw’s body and get details, I followed him into the bedroom. I sat down on his portable potty chair because well, it was the first available seat and besides, its what I sat on to read him the Bible so, why not? All the voices in the room faded, as I got lost in prayer, looking at his colorless body. “God, I don’t even know if I’m allowed to ask this. There’s no color on his face, there’s no blood running through his veins. I mean, there’s no life circulating through this body in front of me. Breathe life in to him, God.” Before I could beg the Father for revival any further, He stopped me. Maybe God was talking or maybe it was just my memory reminding me of what scripture says about heaven. But suddenly, I couldn’t ask God for life anymore. Cliché as it may sound, in an instant, my grandfather went from this life to the next. I mean, just like that, he went from being here to being gone. From suffering to perfection.
 
He went from being miserable in his recliner, covered with his beloved Ole Miss blanket, his body proving inadequacy to walking dancing down a street made of pure gold with undistracted attention to King Jesus. 
 
Just like that, all of it happened.
 
I thought of Isaiah and what God allowed him to see in chapter 6.
The train of His robe filled the temple.
I thought of the Psalms and Proverbs I had read to him in days before.
This day was the 8^th of August and once again, curiosity led him away from his side to the place we kept his Bible.
 
I smiled at God at I read Psalm 8.
 

O Lord, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth!
Your glory is higher than the heavens.
You have taught children and infants
to tell of your strength
silencing your enemies
and all who oppose you.
When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—
the moon and the stars you set in place—
what are mere mortals that you should think about them,
  human beings that you should care for them?
Yet you made them only a little lower than God
and crowned them with glory and honor.
You gave them charge of everything you made,
putting all things under their authority—
the flocks and the herds
and all the wild animals,
the birds in the sky, the fish in the sea,
and everything that swims the ocean currents.
O Lord, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth!

 
 
Last night, death came with relentless course. In the blink of an eye Papaw was gone and we were left with sorrowful tears and sweet memories. But in that very same blink, he stood in the presence of a God whose name is MAJESTIC and fills the whole earth. A God whose glory is higher than the heaven. He crowns an undeserving humanity with glory and honor.
 
Last night, Papaw was declared righteous and holy and deserving.

And now, he dances at the throne of the Most High. 

Apparently Our God Heals: Training Camp Part 2

You should know that I have zero theological training. One time in 9th grade I took a class called "Bible" and that was just because I was at a Christian school and didn't have a choice in the matter. Trust me, I’d rather been in Rhetoric or Debate. The one thing I remember about that class was sitting there wondering what the heck our Headmaster was talking about when he kept referring to “the fall.” I suppose I eventually figured it out and passed the class because I only had to take it once. But that single class is the extent of my sitting in a classroom learning anything even close to theology or doctrine or anything else. And to be honest, I like it that way.
 
So maybe I can’t explain to you WHY things happen the way they do. I can’t give you a prepared answer to WHY bad things happen or HOW God feels when they do. We could go rounds all day long talking about the WHY and the HOW and we’d both probably make some very good points. But right now, I want to talk about the WHO and the WHAT. Because some things happened at training camp that I can’t give an explanation for. All I can tell you is WHAT happened and WHO did it. And once you’ve experienced the power of the Holy Spirit like I did at training camp, you’ll know exactly what I mean.
 
On this particular night, our pastor and speaker for the week was teaching on prayer and healing and the combination of the two. I was so excited for this lesson because I’ve been praying for God to heal my back for so long now. When Ron asked if there was anyone who needed physical healing, a girl a few rows in front of me raised her hand immediately. Her name is Bekah. I had noticed Bekah right off the bat the first day of camp because she was on crutches. Although I saw her from a distance and I was discouraged by the amount of weight pressing down on me from my hiking pack, I instantly felt pain for Bekah. “My gosh it’s so hot and that poor girl has a boot on her leg. I can’t imagine dealing with all that and carrying a hiking pack too.” As I watched Bekah struggle to walk down to the front of the room without her crutches, I couldn’t help but wish it were I walking down that aisle for healing. 
 
As Bekah began to tell her story, something happened inside of me. But in this moment, all I could do was sit and stare. Bekah began to tell how she is a professional dancer and in many ways dancing is her ministry. God moved her and her husband, Josh, to LA and living in a secular world has been a very real struggle for them. She always had dancing to hold onto until she hurt her ankle. The more she spoke, the more I cried. A knot was growing in my stomach and my legs began to go numb. They started to tingle and eventually began to hurt. I felt actual pain in my legs and this is one of those times that I cannot explain WHY.
Now there were several girls on my squad who knew how bad my back has gotten over the last few months and I knew they were going to make me sit still long enough to pray over me. So I sat there thinking to myself, “I’m going to have to stand soon. These legs better start working.” Ron and a few others began to pray over Bekah and she felt tingles and movement in her foot. After a couple of minutes the whole room of 300+ stretched out our arms toward Bekah and begged God for healing.
 
As they continued to rub their hands over her leg and pray fervently for her, the rest of the room broke into small prayer circles praying over others who needed it. (I was one of those people and that specific blog is coming next so get ready.)
 
The next day in our first session all together, AIM staff asked Bekah for an update on her ankle. She said it felt so much better but she was still wearing her boot to be cautious and besides, she didn’t have a left shoe. As the week progressed and I would bump into Bekah during lunch or in the bathroom, she talked about how her ankle was healing and it was feeling better each day. She was still a little hesitant to take off her boot and walk freely.
 
One of the last days of camp I saw Bekah walking across campus with NOTHING ON HER FEET BUT TWO RUNNING SHOES. She was not limping or struggling … she was walking freely. “Wow, this girl is for real,” I thought. And then, it happened. That night with 300+ people in a room worshipping a God who had done more in that week than any of us could have imagined, it happened.
 
I was facing the back of the room praying for some girls on my squad when I heard the worship leader begin to sing “Revelation Song.” I looked up at Emily and said, “I love this song” as I turned around to worship. I couldn’t believe my eyes. They instantly filled with tears and my mouth dropped wide open. This is what I saw… 

Apparently Our God Exceeds Expectations: Training Camp Part 1

DISCLOSURE: You, the reader, should probably know that you may or may not like what you read here. If you can’t appreciate honesty, transparency, and raw, unedited word vomit then you should probably stop with this sentence. Because I, the writer, have a tendency to say (type) things that most people don’t say out loud. I tend to forget about social boundaries and sometimes I even cross those boundaries. As you’re reading, you may even think to yourself something like, “She really just went there?” And the answer will likely be yes.BUT, if you can hang with me to the end, you may see that I’m not so bad and we might actually have a lot more in common than you thought! So over the next few weeks I’ll be blogging a series about training camp and how I did or did not love every second of it. If you’re reading this sentence, you’ve decided to come along for the ride and quite frankly, I’m glad to have you here. Let’s go….     So what if AIM tells you to come to training camp without expectations? You know you had them. Even if you didn't know what to expect, you expected to be surprised.  It's ok, I had them too.  But honestly? Mine weren't so great. When asked if I was excited about camp my response was almost always, "Heck no. I heard it's worse than the race. The only thing I'm happy about is meeting my squad." But the truth is, I would have been fine putting that off for a few more weeks. I was not ready to leave my bedroom and bathroom and hot running water to sleep on the ground (and sometimes other conditions which shall remain secret) and take cold showers. And by "cold showers" I mean three. Three showers… in one week... cold... and the water pressure was equivalent to the drizzle when you don't turn the sink off all the way.   Some thoughts I had before training camp: “I don’t really want to do this.” “It’s ridiculous that they won’t tell us anything. We’re adults and we need details!" “If they don’t feed me enough food, I’ll just eat my snacks the whole time.”·      “Why am I leaving my parents and boyfriend and a good life for uncertainty?” “I have no gear. And when I get it, I won’t even know what to do with it.” “I wish God would free me from this.”   Who would be excited about this?  I'll tell you who.  Anyone who has ever been to a World Race training camp, that's who. Because that person knows what the heck he or she is about to experience and no bed or warm shower will compete with the power that comes from that encounter. I’m referring The Encounter. You know, the one that’s undeniable, irresistible, and quite impressive. I’d love to be able to narrow this encounter down to one specific time where the Holy Spirit came over me with strong wind like tongues of fire (Acts 2) but I just can’t do it. Simply because I believe that July 14-21, 2012 was one big kairos of lesson after lesson in which Jesus never left my side.   This is going to sound vague but there were chains broken. Chains that had held my brothers and sisters down for a very long time. Chains that were beginning to get tighter and leave bruises. They were now shattered and left to rust. There was healing. Physical, emotional, spiritual, and mental healing. Heck, people were healed in ways they didn’t even know they needed it. And mostly, there was love. A word that we toss around lightly indicating we enjoy/like/feel strongly about something. But this is a kind of love that I have never experienced in any other place. The best word I can think to describe it is: unconditional. Girls and guys became my brothers and sisters in a split second and before I knew it, they loved me… and they did it well. One night during worship everyone was singing "With Everything" to the top of our lungs. Rarely have I seen more passionate worship from young adults. There's a rather large part of the song that simply sings, "Woa" over and over and over and over and as I looked around the room I thought to myself, "This MUST be a glimps into heaven."    Some thoughts I’ve had since I’ve been home from camp: “I’ve honestly never been in a place where I felt more safe to be myself.” “God must have thought it was funny when my bag of snacks was invaded by ants and later ransacked by other campers… on night TWO.” “Thank you God for knowing how I tick. And that my ticking doesn’t have to look like anyone else” “Well, I made it through. I feel like I could take on the world.”   So ya see, training camp wasn’t all bad. I slept (or didn’t sleep) in some not-so-ideal conditions. I ate some not-so-ideal food for any time of the day on any day of the week. I walked some not-so-ideal miles up mountains all week and smelled some not-so-ideal scents. But I met a God who is ideal. In every way, reader, He is ideal. And this year He has planned out for me is more ideal than I can begin to tell you. I’m glad you’ve made it to this sentence and I can’t wait to tell you more!   After all, I feel like I could take on the world. And I just might try...

All I Need is Him

The church I go to has a service on Saturday night and because I'm usually already in Hattiesburg on Saturday, I go to that one. I therefore had no obligations or responsibilities today. Because of this, I slept the day away - according to my boyfriend who never exaggerates the truth. So here I am at 11pm on Sunday evening writing a blog instead of enjoying some serious REM cycles. I have to wake up at 5:30am for work but hey, YOLO...... right?

It's been like 80 years since I last blogged and a lot has happened since then! Um for one, I have a boyfriend? I'm not really sure what to do with one of those but ... ya know, one day at time. And he's great. And supportive of the race - we'll see how hunky dory he is come September 1st.

For two, my fund raising has been a roller coaster ride. Slow -- fast --- up --- down --- and just when it gets boring, the bottom falls out and you "lose your stomach" which makes for a fun rest of the ride. Some people have been awesome and donated like $500 at a time while others have been awesome and donated $11 on the 11th of EVERY month. How cool are God's people? Like, seriously. Sometimes I still debate on making World Race t-shirts to raise money. I just don't know if I have the time... or patience.

Training camp is in 6 days - I'll be gone for 2 weeks - and well, it's starting to get serious. Until now, World Race has just been talk. Training camp has been talk. I had a mini freak out moment the other day. Me and the boyfrann bought a devo book to do together .... and then I realized it's a nine week study. NINE WEEKS.  After training camp, I'll have five weeks left in the good ole states. FIVE WEEKS. I wanted to throw up and cry and send AIM an e-mail explaining why I've chosen not to go.
Then I imagined, for a moment, what that e-mail might sound like. That's when I remembered that He who is in me really is greater than he that is in the world. See, here's the thing: there are a million people in my life with a million different reasons for me not to go - some valid and some just plain ridiculous. But at the end of the day, despite the never-ending pain in my back and despite the fun times I am having right now with my family and friends and new love and despite the need here in the US, I have never... ever... not once... doubted that I was supposed to go. There have been times I wondered if God may be shutting a door but in the most deep parts of my heart, I knew He was sending me.

I know. He's sending me.


For three, I've been reading "Not a Fan" by Kyle Idleman. I'll be honest. I've been reading it for about 6 months now -- I suck at reading, okay? Anyway, it's a great book - an easy read and I'd recommend it to anyone who... well, anyone. It's about being a follower of Jesus as opposed to a fan. Sometimes I feel like a fan.

Sometimes I am just a fan.

And other times I don't feel like I'm much of either. The truth is, I'd like to put time into my earthly relationships rather than the Eternal One. I'd rather surf Facebook than the New Testament and I'd like to hang out with girlfriends rather than small group.

But lucky for us, this world does not operate on my wants or desires but rather on His. We can't live according to our feelings and expectations but rather according to Truth.


So here I am, on this late Sunday evening thinking about the last few months and the next few to come and suddenly my anxieties and questions disappear. At the end of the day [literally] all I need is Jesus.

All I need is Him.


Goodnight, world.

http://ashliblackwell.theworldrace.org/

Look at Me

Women are mean. 

And I woke up with a sore throat. 

And the pain in my back increases by the second. 

And Facebook is covered with tragedy and negativity. 

And it feels like I'm never going to raise the $20,000 I need. 

And headaches don't care if I have work to do or people to see or places to go. 

And I have purses to mail and bracelets to sell and thank-you cards to write. 

And church. And work. And Bible study with my World Race group. And time

with my family. And that phone call from the girl who needs advice. And I have fundraisers

that need planning. And I need to spend time with my sister. And I want to swim. And I'm behind on 

that book I'm reading. Those 8 books I'm reading. And my head swells just from thinking about all this. And just when I think I am about to run out the door screaming and crying with my hands in the air and never looking back ............................................................................................................

"Stop. Put the computer down and step away from the door. You aren't going anywhere." 

Oh, well aren't we feeling bossy today?

He tells me this and it's the sweetest words He could use at that moment. 

"Look at me." -  but I resist like a child avoiding a spanking. 

"No, look at me," He says. "Don't take your eyes off me."

It's like a movie scene. When we've watched 90 minutes of boy-girl chase and finally at the end when everyone involved has been deceived, misunderstood, or just stubborn - boy sees girl through a crowd. Girl notices boy noticing her. They walk towards each other and as they gaze upon the other, everything around them fades. Literally. (We literally see it fade on our TV screen.)

That's what happens. "Don't take your eyes off me," He says, and everything around me fades. 

I sit on my bed, indian style, with worship music and my favorite NLT. Sometimes I sing, sometimes I read, and sometimes I just sit. But as long as I have my eyes on Him, the chaos around me turns to a big blur of neutral colors and none of it matters at all. 

I choose to trust that the Lord has not called me to the life of routine and safety that I would love to lead. But instead, He has called me specifically to The World Race for this season. Even if that means a lot of money, sweat, stress, tears and blood. And through all of that, I will choose to focus on my Savior and worship my King. 

So yeah.

Women are mean. 

And I woke up with a sore throat. 

And the pain in my back increases by the second. 

And Facebook is covered with tragedy and negativity. 

And it feels like I'm never going to raise the $20,000 I need. 

And headaches don't care if I have work to do or people to see or places to go. 

And I have purses to mail and bracelets to sell and thank-you cards to write. 

And church. And work. And Bible study with my World Race group. And time

with my family. And that phone call from the girl who needs advice. And I have fundraisers

that need planning. And I need to spend time with my sister. And I want to swim. And I'm behind on 

that book I'm reading. Those 8 books I'm reading. And my head swells just from thinking about all this. And just when I think I am about to run out the door screaming and crying with my hands in the air and never looking back, I run into my Savior and He says those words. 

"Look at me."






Come see me here at: My World Race Page!!

This Place Will Drive You to Your Knees

The top of Laura's blog used to say, "This place will drive you to your knees."  

She used to tell me about the scenery there, as if to paint me a picture of her new life in Haiti. 

Combined with pictures on Facebook and her stories about Haitian life, my imagination was all I had to go by. And then I went there. And my understanding of a poverished, dark, third-world country became reality. From the second I stepped off the plane in Port-au-Prince, one phrase was always on my mind - this place will certainly drive you to your knees. 

When Laura asked me to guest post on her blog I was like, "Oh heck yeah!! God? Bring on the revelations!!" I'll say, I do love to tell of the crazy unthinkable’s He so often throws in my face. From answering really ginormous prayers to providing things I never even asked for, but needed. So, I was so-super-pumped to tell you about all the things He and I experienced together while in Haiti. It's been about a month now since my return to the states and I've erased and re-written this post at least four times. I can tell you what physically happened while I was there. And I can tell you how I physically reacted. What I cannot put into words, however, is what God did in my heart during it. The way I experienced Him - our communion. So after praying for many days about what the heck to write, this is what I've decided you need to know: I am two people in one - USA Ashli and Missionary Ashli. Hi, we're happy to meet you. 

Now before you go calling me skitzo, let me explain. Laura was home last month visiting family and friends and when I walked in the door to hang out with her she said, "You look so pretty. The last time I saw you was in Haiti and we were, well... not worried about being pretty." I guess I'll let that one slide, since I kinda like her but it reminded me of a conversation I overheard the day before. Someone in my hometown had heard that I was going on The World Race and like small-town talk does, it spread quickly. So my mom was on the phone with someone asking about it when I heard her say, "She is so high maintenance when she is here. She goes off with the girls for a weekend and takes 8 pairs of shoes. But send her to another country for 10 days and the girl takes 5 shirts." 

Now, you need to know that I love my comforts and conveniences as much as the next person. And the thought of purposely doing without them sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. When here in the States, I wash my hands before I eat, I NEVER sit on a public toilet, and if I go to a restaurant where the table isn't clean- well, I want a new table. I take warm showers, just because I can, I buy a new skirt simply because I think I deserve it, and you better believe if some part of my food touches the floor (or even table) it's going in the trash. I enjoy all the clothing options I have when getting dressed, pedicures are my absolute favorite, and I spend way too much money eating out. 

However, when in Costa Rica, I couldn't flush my toilet paper, I ate rice with EVERY meal, I wore some of the same clothes twice, I walked 2 miles barefoot down a Costa Rican semi-gravel road, and I played soccer in a field with more holes than solid ground (until I landed in one of those holes and tore up my ankle, that is. Thanks a lot, CR!) In Haiti, I took cold showers, I sat on EVERY toilet seat I used, if food fell on the floor I picked it up and ate it, I held children with skin diseases and sores, I kissed those children, I ate and drank after those children, I ate street food like it was nobody's business, I watched gnats have their way with my bare feet, and I rode a tap-tap for crying out loud with 10 or so other Haitians. 

 So this begs the questions, WHAT IS IT ABOUT THIS CULTURE THAT MAKES US TAKE 8 PAIRS OF SHOES ON A WEEKEND TRIP?? When did we become so concerned with germs and hand sanitizer and toilet seat covers that we forgot to let God be God and control it all. When did we forget that "God made dirt and dirt don't hurt??" It seems I find myself constantly striving for this certain level of acceptance. But accepted by whom? And what makes us accepted? I feel most confident when I have on my favorite outfit, my cutest jewelry, and my pink lip-gloss. By the sounds of this, I feel most valued for things that cannot reach past my surface... literally. But pick me up and put me down in Haiti? Makeup isn't an option and who cares what you're wearing? There's work to be done and a Gospel to be told. I can't blame USA Ashli for wanting to hold on to the things she has grown accustomed to, for that's all she has ever known. But Missionary Ashli is screaming for simplicity. She's screaming for a world that sits on public toilets because heaven knows she's grateful it's not just another hole in the ground. She's screaming for a people who pick up fallen food from the floor and eat it because we either can't afford to waste that bite, or don't have time to go get more. She dreams of a culture that is more concerned with what a person is saying than what they look like when they are saying it. 

She craves a place that will drive you to your knees. 

Y'see, the thought of giving up the things that make our life easy just sounds like that disaster that's waiting to happen. Stripping ourselves of the very things we call 'blessing from God' does not sound like a very smart thing to do. But can I just tell you, reader, that in those times I have experienced God like no other time before. Don't hear me saying the Lord can't speak into any situation He so desires. But when we deny ourselves of the distractions that we label as "life necessities" we become open to a whole new desperation for our Creator. 

Because it's in those places that we find rest. It's those places that He tells me I'm beautiful with or without makeup and pearls. It's those places that we depend on Him to make it through this day and on to the next. 

What does this place look like for you? Maybe you're like me and it's about finding a place of simplicity, trust, and rest as opposed to the chaos of our corporate-ladder culture. Maybe you need to love better or surrender more. What is it that takes you to a place where only He can change you?

Where is the place that will drive you to your knees?

I'll Miss You

Dear Personal Blog, 


Because I'm expected to write more often on my World Race Blog, you're going to have to take a back seat. I know things like this are hard for you and I, as we prefer to ride shot-gun. But don't worry, I'll be posting the same type stuff right here and you can go there and read it anytime. I may even post the same articles on here from time to time. Yes, you'll have to share now and again. 


I love you dearly, Personal Blog, but I'd really love you more if you clicked here and took a gander at my official blog as a SEPTEMBER 2012 Route-1 WORLD RACER!!! :)


With all the love in my heart, 
Ashli

11 N 11

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Oh, how I cannot wait to share this post with you. To tell you what God has done.
what He has said.
what He has ordained.

My hope is that in a few days I will be able to post this blog explaining to you that the Lord has called me on what I believe will be the journey of a lifetime. A journey that will take me all over the world in 11 short months. A journey that will make me desperate for His power. A journey called The World Race. In the mean time, I want to tell you what He has already begun to muster up in me.

3 months ago I found out about WR and began to pray casually about it. A month ago I began to pray more consistently about it. 2 weeks ago I began to pray seriously about it. I'll say this: 2 months ago, anytime that sneaky World-Race-thought tried to surface, I pushed it right back down to the bottom of the prayer request list... where it belonged. As much as I love mission trips and traveling the world, no freaking way was I willingly leaving my parents, bed, clothes, shoes, income, and TV for a year. Sorry God, not happening.

He must've thought that was cute of me.

Because here I am, 60ish days later addressing the issue that is burning my heart to ashes. I'll be honest. This scares the ba-gee-beez out of me. I'm totally cool with leaving my bed and TV and I'm slowly accepting that I have to leave so many clothes and shoes behind. I've not, however, come to grips with leaving my family behind. I know it's still early and that the Lord is not done  preparing me or them for this big step.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

My interview for World Race was at 8:30am today. My phone rang at 8:28am. Thankfully I talked to Darci, a girl I had already been in contact with about WR so I felt comfortable with her. They want a doctor's release for my back. That shouldn't be a problem.

I will know if I have been accepted or not in the next 7 days. Oh, did I mention that in 7 days, at 6:00am I fly out to Haiti? Come. On. People. This is too much.... LONGEST.week.EVER.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Sometimes I wonder if I'm a fraud.
If I get on a kick about something and when it dies down, I'm done with it.
While I know that to be true about some things in my life, I'm not so sure this is one of them.
When I had first began to pray "consistently" about WR, I found myself becoming more and more passionate every time I told someone about it. Not that I was praying about it, but just the opportunity of 11 countries in 11 months. Hesitantly, I asked Him, "Lord... if this is You, if this is really You calling me to abandon everything I know and travel for a year, then prove it. Don't let this passion in me die. In fact, make me even more enthusiastic tomorrow."

I'll say this: nothing has died down.

Sure, in the week I have been waiting for everything to be confirmed, the enemy has had a field day in my mind. From bachelorette weekends with my girlfriends - to dinner with people and the relationships I have been building with them - to the black kids I consider to be mine - I'm reminded of the very reasons I enjoy life here so much. And it's certainly not an easy task to die to your self every day. Well, it's death - and death is never easy.

I called Laura (the coolest Haiti missionary eva ... and, oh yeah, my bff). "Laura, remind me that I'm not crazy and that it's going to be worth it." I think God put Laura in my life for the sole purpose of speaking the right words at the right time. "Ashli. Ashli. Just listen to me. Fun weekends and shopping sprees and all the things we love as girls are great. They're so fun, they are. But at the end of your life, what value do they have? I love you and..." click. Stupid Haitian phone towers. I know what she meant. There is nothing wrong with having fun. But there is also NOTHING wrong with giving it up for a year to follow Jesus to 'all the nations.'

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

I arrived in Haiti today. Laura asked me to guest post on her blog this week. I will share it with you and I can't wait.

Friday, March 9, 2012

I got home from Haiti late last night. I'm waiting to post this blog until I can tell all of my family about WR. I can't wait. The process seems to be flying by. I have an official WR blog and it's http://ashliblackwell.theworldrace.org/ so you'll want to follow me there. I need to start fund raising ASAP seeing as how I have to raise about $18,000. That number can be intimidating but I refuse to see it that way. There is no doubt in my mind that the Lord has called me to this and will therefore exercise His perfect provision. More details about WR to come... but for now,

This is me giving you permission to begin praying NOW :)

Saturday, March 10, 2012

I'm scared to death to post this blog. As if me posting this makes my commitment to World Race official or something. My countries are:

1. Zimbabwe/Botswana
2. Swaziland
3. South Africa
4. India
5. Philippines
6. China
7. Ukraine 
8. Moldova
9. Honduras
10. Nicaragua
11. Costa Rica/Panama 


Question? What are some creative ways to raise funds for this bad boy?? Feel free to comment your ideas, opinions, encouragement, and prayers! I love getting your feedback!!


With SO much love,
Ashli :)

Learning Lessons

Day 12


So basically, I hate this month. I hate chicken and eggs and whoever convinced me to do this whole challenge.


Wait. That was me.


Anyway.


I'm over going to things like wedding showers and a super bowl party and growth group and not being able to eat whatever they have. Yesterday? Rachel's wedding shower consisted of: a large variety of fruit conveniently placed by the chocolate fountain, a very large beautiful cake, an array of dips with their corresponding chips, two different flavored chicken wings, small sandwiches, casseroles and punch that was out of this world. (So I heard) I think there was probably a lot more this is all the goodness I can remember at a time.


This month is inconvenient.


But? Something very weird is happening. God is talking to me. Who would have thought?


Day 19


Well, I'll just say it. This is harder than I thought it would be. And I'm weaker than I thought I would be. Eating 7 foods sucks. So I cheat. Therefore, I suck. In my defense, I tried really hard not to cheat.... in the beginning. For the first little while, I was strong and secure in my decision with only 7 foods. And then one day it wasn't as convenient - and I had to eat - so I barely cheated. I mean, not even a big enough cheat to talk about. Until the next day it happened again. And before I knew it I was ordering pizza instead of chicken and green tea instead of water. Which leads me to day 19 where I sit with my friend at a buffet after church and devour a plate of anything and everything. So I sit on his couch to write this post and think, "How did I get to a place where cheating wasn't even a second thought?"


Maybe you, dear reader, couldn't care less if I eat fish or chicken or cheeseburger or turkey or pork. You probably don't even mind the fact that I cheat. But I do... well, I did. In the beginning.


I lament to myself about how strong I was when I started. I told everyone about the 7 challenge and how I intended to see it through. How it would change my life and how they should try it too. I was committed to the boundaries set out in front of me and I was up for the challenge. I-was-strong. But slowly it became "too hard." I gave in once, then twice, then three times and then... and then I ordered pizza and it was all over.


I was strong.
It got hard.
I caved.


Suddenly, this feels a lot like the way sin creeps in.

"Feed My Lambs"

Day TWO: it's 11:57 pm.

I suck at 7. It's only day two and I'm already bending the rules. What the heck is wrong with me? First, I HAD to have some of that to-die-for-sauce we talked about it. My chicken at lunch was just so plain and boring without it. Ok wait, let me back up. I should have said, "my second lunch" because my first attempt at lunch was at McAlister's with Ashley and Jillian. I tried to follow 7 guidelines but it just wasn't appealing. So I hardly ate - put it in a to-go box - and hit the road. After running errands I came home to cook chicken for growth group tonight and that's when I began to get hungry. Hence, my second lunch. All I had was chicken. No sides or anything.. AND I drank water. That's progress, right? I've tried to justify condiments in my mind so many times but none of them seem okay. Although dinner at growth group was "7-worthy" I didn't eat much because, let's get real, baked chicken and steamed broccoli can only be good so many times a day. So laying in bed, trying to fall asleep so I won't realize I'm hungry ... I realized I was hungry. "Oh, what I would give for just one oreo right now.  I need a small simple snack."

The temptation got the best of me. I went downstairs to find a snack - Lance's Cream Cheese Chives crackers - and they were marvelous. Walking back to my bedroom I justified my actions by thinking that I was too hungry to sleep. And there is no way God would want me to (1) be hungry and (2) lose sleep over it.  ...................... OH, the humanity. How arrogant of me to assume I was entitled to a midnight snack simply because God doesn't want me to suffer from a little hunger pains when there are people dying every minute from hunger.

So I began to research hunger. Big mistake.

Did you know that every 3.6 seconds someone dies of hunger? Or that one out of every eight children under the age of 12 in the U.S. goes to bed hungry every night? Half of all children under five years of age in South Asia and one third of those in sub-Saharan Africa are malnourished.

Therefore in the time it took me to write this post, 8 people have died from hunger - and obviously, I'm not one of them. I'm not even close to being one of them. I will probably never have to fight for life on account of lack of food. However there is a child somewhere in the world right now drawing his last breath as his mother looks on the scene weeping for her son. I begin to pray for these kids. These mothers. These families. Won't someone tell them about Jesus, and the hope we have in Him? 

In the midst of this, I found two neat websites where you and I can both help with world hunger. I realize that it's such a distant problem to most of us. The majority, if not all, of the people reading this are like me - and will never have to experience starvation. I know that if you could look into the eyes of a child who knows not where or when his next meal will be, it would become personal. The thing is, though, most people in America never will. You can help and here is how:

• Backpack Buddies is a local organization that provides for students in the Hattiesburg inner-city schools who suffer from a lack of food supply. There are children who, when they go home on Friday afternoon, are not able to eat until they return to school on Monday. The volunteers at BPB go to their school every Friday and stuff their backpacks with pantry items that they can eat over the weekend. (Selfishly, I'd like you to give your donations of food/money/time to BPB because it's the one I'm involved with and I know just how much help we need. But no pressure.)
• Bread for the World is an organization who urges decision maker's in our nation to help end hunger both here and in other countries. Their website is a great resource for facts on hunger. It also explains very clearly what they do and how we can help. 
• World Hunger Fund is a fund within the Southern Baptist Convention in which EVERY SINGLE DIME goes directly to end hunger. $0.20 of every dollar is spent in-house on hunger projects in the U.S. and $0.80 of every dollar are sent to the IMB (International Mission Board) for international projects. This is another great resource for facts and statistics on hunger. 

Suddenly, I'm not so hungry anymore.

Day FOUR:

I'm much more proud of myself today. I've cheated less. And by less, I mean not at all. Although I have had a headache for three days straight, this reduced eating thing might actually turn out well for my body. Look people, I don't know if you realize this but I'm getting virtually NO sugar in my blood flow and certainly no caffeine. You don't even understand what this means. Maybe it means headaches? Maybe its the cause of my un-Christ-like behavior. You just read "no caffeine" right? 

Regardless, I've decided to add a new touch to 7. Through reducing my life, I'm realizing just how easy we have it. There are certain conveniences Ashley and I are not enjoying this month. For one, we can't just go to growth group/town/dinner at a friend's house and eat whatever our hosts decide to prepare. I can't drive through Ward's on my way to work (daily) and get breakfast. Here's the point: I'm becoming much more aware of the abundant choices we have. People all over the world, including here, have almost no option to eat while our options are endless. So each month, we'll find an organization that's cause-worthy (ie Backpack Buddies) and donate to that cause. 

After all, I used to drive through Ward's everyday. That money's gotta somewhere, right? 

And if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry 

   and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, 

then your light will rise in the darkness, 

   and your night will become like the noonday. 

Isaiah 58:10

Month 1 of 7; Day 1 of 29

Before I get too far, I should tell you what I'm doing. In a nutshell it goes like this:
-Jen Hatmaker is a witty author. (Lots of my friends are so over hearing about my obsession with her - but like good friends do, they smile and listen... pretending to still care.)
-She wrote a book called "7: an Experimental Mutiny Against Excess."
-This is the basis of the book: 

-My friend Ashley and I are going to do this. 

-We bought Jen's book - read it - laughed our heads off - cried our heads off - God convicted our heads off ---- and well, here we are: at day one. 

Month One: Food 


Day One:


I woke up hungry, which isn't all that unusual. The next 29 days, however, will be anything but usual. As I lay here in my bed before going downstairs to start the first day of 7, I ponder what this month will be like. For the next month, I am only eating 7 food items. What will that do to me? How will that change or strengthen my relationship with my Father?

"This is a fast, a major reduction of the endless possibilities that accompany my every meal. It is supposed to be uncomfortable and inconvenient. Not because I'm a narcissist but because the discomfort creates space for the Holy Spirit to move. This shake-up of my routine commands my attention. I can no longer default to normal, usual, mindless, thoughtless. It's like having an eyelash under my contact all day. What will the Spirit do with this new space? I don't know. We'll see. It's His to engineer. I won't box Him in or assume I know what He'll say. I'm not going to project my goals onto His movement. I have simply said, 'Jesus, may there be less of me and my junk and more of You and Your kingdom.' I will reduce so He can increase." - Jen Hatmaker

That's how I feel. Who knows what will happen over the next 7-ish months? It's His to engineer. We will see. So here is how this is going to go down: February is "food month" which I like to think was God's divine provision because He knew I would need as few days as possible to fast from the thing that I may or may not love more than anything else on the planet: food. I'm a foodie - and I don't mean in a good way. I eat things that are way too unhealthy and I eat abnormal amounts of it. I mean, I just like food, ok? THEREFORE, this month will be trying - I know - but, fingers crossed, it will also be refreshing and make me grateful. Oh, my list? Ok... here it is:


1. Wheat Bread
2. Eggs
3. Turkey
4. Chicken
5. Broccoli
6. Strawberries
7. Squash


In Jen's words, this healthy roll call will be washed down with water and that's that. Ashley, my faithful companion, has decided to narrow her habit down to only 2 cups of coffee a day - as opposed to 5 or 6. How sacrificial of her, huh? So I figure if she can still have coffee, I can still have milk. But only at breakfast. Any time else will be some straight up H2O - hold the lemon and splenda, please!


As far as giving some life to my array of choices up there, salt, pepper, and Tony's will do the trick. No condiments or seasonings for this gal. (Shoot me now.) Now is a good time to tell you that my dad's friend has created this sweet/spicy BBQ/ketchup sauce that is TO.DIE.FOR. Listen to me people, this stuff is the bomb. I plan a meal around this sauce and what I can put it on. Bye-bye to-die-for sauce, see you in a few weeks.


__________________________________________________________________________________


11:45 pm on Day One:


Ok, so maybe this won't be so bad. I can already tell that breakfast is going to be the worst part. I am by far a breakfast girl. I'm the one who shouts "Cracker Barrel" or "Waffle House" when deciding with friends where to eat because I know I can get breakfast food there any time of the day or night. And now, for the next few weeks, eggs are pretty much my only option for breakfast. And toast too, but this is going to get really old really fast. My breakfast this morning?

Note to self: Tony's does not make scrambled eggs taste better. Maybe it was due to the unimaginable busy work day, but the rest of the day was fairly easy. You wouldn't believe how many different ways you can have chicken.


I didn't stop long enough to think about the spiritual effects of today. I was too busy planning meals that consist of my reduced menu. I know one thing is for sure though. I cannot wait to experience the Spirit in this newfound space.


Thank you for joining me on this journey. Talk to ya in a few days :)

Leftover Pizza

She-would-not-let-go... like, for anything. I mean, she fights for 42 inches of height and we were in a 6ft. deep end, after all. Her grip was so tight I think I still have finger prints around my neck and this was two days ago. Because when the water around you doubles your height and you're too terrified to swim, you grab on for dear life to anything. Anything that will float and keep your head above water. When I stopped pulling at her small waist and she stopped screaming "Noooooooo!!" she heard me whisper calmly, "Azah. You have to stop holding on so tight and trust that I will not let go of you."
In the middle of all that quietness, I heard Him whisper too. Pretty much the exact same sentence, just insert  "Ashli." Like usual, I went on with whatever was in front of me - in this case, an innocent little black girl horrified of the countless gallons of water surrounding us. He'll be sure to bring it back up, He always does.


We were on our first family-that's-not-really-a-family road trip. Me + 3 African American children + no wedding ring = a whole lot of funny looks and a whole lot more fun.

 Brian

 Azah

Meikayla

Without the gory details, we were staying in a super fun hotel on the Mississippi River. Literally, on the river. It was complete with an indoor/outdoor restaurant/lounge with quaint outside seating on the riverside and an indoor pool for times like these. Three trips to the pool in two days ... we clearly took advantage of this indoor luxury. (Thank you Wal-Mart for having $6 swimsuits in the middle of January.) Our second night at the pool, we ordered pizza and cheesy-bread which only took Papa John's one hour to deliver, but who's counting when there is pool water, better yet - hot tub water, to be had? 

[Obviously, Meikayla (the eldest) was more concerned with the "cold pool" which had the "deep waters." Much too old and mature to be in the "kiddie pool" or "the hot one" which most of us ridiculous people know as a spa/jacuzzi.]

Now where was I? Oh yes! The pizza that we couldn't eat all of. Never fear; Cold pizza is better the next day, anyway. Regardless, we had big plans the next day! That's right... a basketball game. Apparently it is completely unacceptable for 8-year old Meikayla to share delicious cheesy nachos with me and 5-year old Azah. I'm 25... and the one paying... but what do I know? So, TWO orders of $4 nachos, please. (And bring on the jalapeños para mi, gracias!) Her "I want everything and I want it now" attitude didn't stop her from being one of the three most precious children in the place, though. Just check out these school-spirited outfits.... 

Speaking of an attitude-of-want, Meikayla thinks she is supposed to eat every. single. hour. (A not-so-great characteristic she got from her not-so-biological mother... aka: me.) Annoying as it may be, we carry it none the less. Which makes perfect sense for her to beg me for a piece of the leftover pizza every other time the clock strikes a new hour. At this point, we are on our way home. Allow me to use this time to let you know that our 150 minute drive home took a whopping FIVE hours. Yes, your read correctly. Due to my lack of road knowledge and apparent inability to listen to the GPS/ on my handy dandy Galaxy S, it took us just that long to get home. Read and follow road signs? Who does that? Not a chance...

Sooooo, where we should have been home by 3:30pm, we were still on the road at 5:30pm. And if you have done the math, you know that Meikayla has asked for pizza at least three times since lunch at noon. 

[Approximately 5:00pm] - something kinda funny happened. this is how it went down: 

MK:    Ms. Ashli, can we have some of the leftover pizza from yesterday? (As if this is a new         

question and I don't know to which pizza she is referring) 

Me:     Meikayla, what have I told you the last three times you asked?

MK:    That I need to wait til the next meal.

Me:     And is it time for our next meal?

MK:    Ummm? It's 5pm.... ?

Me:     Oh. Ok - if you will wait 30 minutes - just hold out a little longer- we are going to have a really, really good meal. Much better than leftover pizza ... a really good, hot meal. Just trust me on this one.

Silence. 

I thought to myself: "Gosh, kids are so much work. If only they could see the big picture. Then they would know that something better was waiting... and only 30 minutes away. I mean, that's right around the corner. Just be patient, for the love of Moses!!" 

Then I heard Him whisper, "Oh hey. You get that concept now?"

Silence. 

In retrospect, did God really just equate my desire for safety and comfort to clinging to ANYTHING that will float in the deep end? I think yes. And my desire for self and instant gratification to leftover pizza? I think yes. Did he really just teach me two important lessons about trust .... in one weekend.... with children... out of my own mouth? I think yes. 

At times I wonder if they are actually my words coming out. 

And like usual, I go on with whatever is in front of me. Paying attention to the shiny toys I crave more than I crave  time with Him. But He'll be sure to bring it back up.

He always does. 

I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust." Psalm 91:2 

What Happened?

Oh, here we are again. 


And surprise, surprise! I don't know where to begin. You could have guessed that one. 


Not only do I not know where to start this blog, but I don't know where to start much of anything. 


I'm something of a New Testament Paul in Romans 7. 

"I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!" 

Hm, I'm not sure if I should say more. Need I?


You must excuse my wandering mind which fuels my typing. What's the word? I need an adjective. A descriptive word to tell you how I feel. One that will make you really understand the chaos, no... conviction, in my head and heart. 
I'm uneasy. No, I'm confused. Concerned? Guilty? Not. Ready. For. Life.  ... broken? What's the word you're feeling when your spirit is broken? Except not really broken. Ohhh, you know... when you should be wrecked.


shattered.


trashed.
and I don't mean with alcohol.


That season in your life when you know what's right- you just don't want to do it. And quite frankly, you don't. You know the wrong choice and  you choose it anyway. And, what's worse? You don't care. At least not in the moment. Because sin is attractive. Think of Eve. Remember her? Sure you do. That darn fruit was just way too juicy. Way too tempting. Too attractive. And when you're eating a big fat juicy apple, nothing else matters but the flavor savoring on your taste buds. So maybe it took a few sentences, rather than one informative adjective. The question remains: How the heck did this happen? See, this is hard ... because I fear what you may think of me. 


"Ashli, get it together. You serve Jesus. You love the Jesus you serve. And? You tell  people of this love and service. You describe Him and the way He gives you life and the way He makes you feel and your passion is not a secret and...." - - - - - -


"The person you are describing sounds legit. She sounds unmovable. Unshakable. Confident and holy in all her ways. She sounds so... passionate? That's not you."


Did I mention there are two people in my head? They literally go back and forth all day long. It's this sort of conversation that will drive a girl nuts. Sometimes I think there is an angel with a halo on one shoulder and a devil in a red suit on the other. For all intensive purposes, there are. 


What happened to my strength? Where did my assurance go? What about the times I could melt in His peace? And the countless hours I could sit .... with Him. Just sitting, and chatting - mostly listening for me. His words are more precious, anyway. What happened to His voice? Scratch that ... what happened to my ears? Where went the times of my hearing Him clearly and obeying? Oh, I hear His voice. I just don't want to. For in my sinful desires I want to ignore Him. I want Him to go away and I want to carry on about life serving me and my desires. So:


Here are the things I've noticed:

• I, Ashli - the human, crave pleasure. 
• I, Ashli - the human,  am unbelievably selfish with my time and who I want to serve with it
• I, Ashli - the human, have been worshipping religion - not Jesus

Here are the things I know:

• I, Ashli - the Christian,  crave His presence
• I, Ashli - the Christian, want His approval and want to serve Him with my time
• I, Ashli - the Christian, needn't attempt this temporary but relevant life on my own. 

I think if you're honest, you'll find these times in your life as well. In which case we can pray for one another. Heaven knows I need it. I'll even make you my best friend if someone, anyone, will humbly remind me that I-am-normal. Also? I'm just the kind of wretch a Perfect King would be crucified for. 


This is not a cry for help. Ok, yes it is. Because everyone knows that the scariest part of a Christian's walk is not facing storms or trials. It's not even facing death. But the scariest place a Christian can be in their walk is when they allow their flesh to defeat their spirit. Please, sweet Jesus help me. Please, precious friends and beloved readers pray this with me. And if, by chance, a connection is found between yourself and these transparent words... by all means let.a.sista.know. For we must intercede for one another. 


Oh my Father, I am desperate for you to save me from this. I am desperate to be desperate for You. Thank You for new mercies every second of every minute or every hour of every day. We need them all.