Showing posts with label Hannah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hannah. Show all posts

Monday, January 16, 2012

Jesus Worldwide: Rwanda

From Katie: In July my friend Hannah began The World Race, that is visiting eleven countries in eleven months.  Currently on month six and finishing up her time in Rwanda, Hannah blogged this post about how God got her attention. It has been reposted here with permission.  To follow Hannah as she finishes up her journey, check out blog. 

"A Little More of Jesus Inside of Me"
by Hannah Dagenhart

As I look out over the valley that we are about to cross once again, something at the bottom catches my eye. A group of children are gathered down at the “bridge” (a few logs held together with barbed wire and mud) to fill up their water jugs from the creek. The water is dirty. No doubt the cows in the adjacent pasture drink from it and tramp mud through it as they pass. Nonetheless, it is used for everything from laundry to cooking and I can pretty accurately assume, for drinking.

Some of the children have spotted us now as we are descending. They have all straightened up from filling their jugs and now they are shouting, jumping and waving: “A mzungu! A mzungu!” Even though they are the most adorable kids, dressed in nothing but dirty and ill-fitting rags, sometimes I’d rather not have the attention all of the time. Anywhere we go people shake our hands, give a thumbs up, shout out greetings, or walk beside us. Sometimes I make the mistake of politely shaking neighbors' hands in order to continue on but later realize I actually know them. We have met these children before. We have walked with them up the valley, sometimes carrying their water jugs for them. We have seen them in church or passed by their homes.

Some village kids at a nearby home.

As we continue down the hill their smiles become more clear and their squeals of excitement more adamant. Before we reach them they abandon their water jugs and run to us, arms open wide, ready for hugs.
We walk hand in hand to the bottom and there they give up their water. Several times before we have helped them make it to the top, so this time they are willing to hand over their burdens. I pick up two jugs, one from each of the kids smiling next to me. While they aren’t extremely heavy for me, they’re certainly not light. Imagine carrying a couple of milk gallons in each hand as you climb the mountain. I smile and take them, in my heart half resenting that I must carry the water when I’m already tired.

Then the Lord hits me with a lesson. Hannah, these kids understand. They know how to give up their burdens to someone stronger. Remember? I told you: “Cast all your cares on Me because I care for you” (1 Peter 5:7). “My yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt 11:30). How joyful these youngsters are to give up their burdens. They do not feel guilty or try to carry part of the load. They easily and freely cast off their burdens. 


I feel convicted for being selfish and unconcerned. My Jesus would never have thought twice about carrying their loads. He would be delighted to do so with no thought for Himself. Thank you for continuing to teach me, Lord. I am learning, one small step up the mountain at a time.

We reach the top. We pass off the water as we are going a different route but the smiles stay the same. The children have such joy. We meet up with our pastor who is talking to two women as they harvest corn to give to us. I continue to be amazed at the generosity of God’s people overseas. They give not out of abundance but out of sacrifice.

We continue on up the hill and to the left as we go to visit a house that we know well. What started as a visit for evangelism erupted into a discussion of Christianity mixed with a presentation of the Gospel. It ended with many onlookers and seekers gathered and a few women with lives changed. We have come back the following week to encourage these women and their children in their new faith. Our team prayed over them for provision for their children, as well as healing for two of them that are affected by HIV/AIDS. My heart goes out to them since we visited the Genocide Memorial and learned about the extreme hardships and pain since the horrible event nearly 18 years ago. Many people were killed, many women raped (mostly by HIV positive males), and others were tortured and humiliated. This country needs healing so badly.

Still, there is hope. The purpose of our visit that day is to take Bibles to the women, as they had none of their own. We give one each to Delphine and Liberty. The looks on their faces are priceless. They are truly thankful to have received God’s Word in their own language. We pray for them as they thanked us.

Delphine and Liberty excited to receive their new Bibles.

As we pass through more cornfields and plots of banana trees we come to Godanse’s house. This woman has such a love for the Lord! As one of four women at last week’s Bible study, she has a Bible that is tattered and torn. She carefully turned the pages that were still intact as she searched for the passage in Romans, handling the Word with such grace and reverence.

Now, a week later, we arrive at her home with a new copy of the Word. She quickly invites us into her home, which was crumbling, small,and smells of the putrid pig kept right outside. I have never been more honored to be a guest in anyone’s home. As I take the Bible from my backpack she holds her hands to her face in disbelief. I pass it to her as she doubles over with laughter, her eyes dancing with joy

She keeps saying, “Amen! Hallelujah!” as she thanks us repeatedly. This gift means the world to her. There is more excitement and joy than I’ve ever seen – all for the Word of God. Oh God, that we all would love your Word like Godanse. Godanse walks us all the way out to the path, still laughing and smiling as she clutches her Bible. She gives me such a powerful handshake that my hand stings. I will never forget her.

We keep walking, literally to the top of the hill. The radio tower is in sight nearby and the view of the valley is absolutely incredible. Our team is soon met with smiles and greetings from the four widow women that live in this home. One of the women, Kimana, who is usually bubbly and sweet at church, looks rather down. We ask if she was sick, and she clearly is, so we pray over her as we present her with her own copy of God’s Word. Even after being nauseous all day, you can see the thankfulness and happiness in her eyes.

Taryn with Kimana

Our tasks for the day complete, we begin our descent. There are still miles to go before we reach home, but my heart is much more thankful now than when we’d started.  As I walk the hills, I have quite some time to think. 
I begin to ponder about my life and how it compared with that of my Lord and Savior.

My feet sometimes have blisters or scrapes. They are dusty, and I have a tan line from my Chaco sandals. Some days my legs ache when I walk those hills. My presence is always announced as I walk down the street: “A mzungu! A mzungu!” Several people, young and old, run to meet me and enthusiastically extend their hands. When I stand outside of a store for more than a minute or two I am approached by beggars in filthy clothes. As I pass children who only know a few English phrases I am met with, “Give me money!” Anytime we go to visit or attend a service we are expected to share a testimony or song, some nugget of wisdom.

What about Jesus? I turned my thoughts to Him. How He had walked tons of miles through dust and dirt to reach people. He probably had a tan like mine across His dirty feet. His calves probably burned from going over mountains and walking through towns. I bet His clothes gave off a pleasant aroma of man-sweat since He wore them day after day. He had people following Him constantly – needy people – those asking for healing, those seeking teaching, some just looking for an exciting show. I’m sure He shook a lot of hands, had people begging for His attention at every moment.

In many ways I see myself in similar situations to those of our Lord. Yet, most times I react – not like Jesus – but like His disciples…

Then little children were brought to Jesus for Him to place His hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked those who brought them. Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” (Matthew 19:13-14)

I recently read the story in Matthew of how Jesus fed the five thousand. Do you realize how the story starts? Jesus finds out that John the Baptist has just been beheaded. One of His good friends, a relative, has been executed. He takes a boat and intends to withdraw to a solitary place, but the relentless crowds followed Him there. What does He do?

When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, He had compassion on them and healed their sick. (Matthew 14:14)

Then, as evening comes, the disciples tell Jesus to send the people away – they have no food. I can only imagine that the disciples were restless and wanted some supper for themselves as well. So, Jesus, already knowing they can’t do it, tells them to feed the crowd. After the disciples admit their inabilities, Jesus takes what is there and offers it to the Lord. The crowd is fed and there’s an abundance left over.

As I’m thinking about my spiritual journey lately, I realize that I’m more like the disciples than Christ. The disciples were supposed to look like Christ, yet they still gave in to their human tendencies. They were grouchy with children and they answered to their stomachs rather than to their spiritual appetites. (I know that the Twelve were godly men who gave up everything to follow Christ. They gave up their lives in the end, but at times, they’re only human. Like me.)

The house of some church members at the top of the hill.

Throughout the past six months I have been meeting with my team each night for “feedback.”  We give each other honest feedback on what we see and offer compliments as well as constructive encouragement. My team has consistently told me that the Lord has blessed me with good discernment. I realize it’s true because I can analyze these feelings and situations to see where I need to change. While I don’t celebrate the fact that I feel like a grouchy disciple some days, I am so thankful that the Spirit lets me know of my shortcomings. He points out the rough areas and breathes conviction on the things that need to change. It’s a refining process. Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it’s embarrassing, but it’s necessary and beneficial.

Most of this month has been a battle of the mind and heart. No matter what my mannerisms on the outside appear to be, I know my heart and so does God. I have seen the importance of getting into the Word, of praying for an attitude change, of putting up a strong fight against self-pity or homesickness. The mind is a powerful thing and how we steward what goes into it will determine what type of disciple we ultimately become.

I want to be more like Christ, I really do. But it remains a conscious choice that I must continue to make every day for the rest of my life.


"A Little More"
*Lyrics by Shawn McDonald*

Just the other day went walking
Down to the corner and I saw a man
Sitting with a cup in his hand
Saying, "Hey won't you give me something
Won't you give me something to eat?"

I took a look into his eyes and
I saw he had a story to tell
But I walked away with my pockets full, full of change
And I said, "I got nothing for you"

It's time to confess that I need a little more
Jesus inside of me, Jesus inside of me

Don't you see, Jesus was homeless
Walking from city to city
Teaching people how to love
Giving them grace and mercy
Giving them grace and mercy

Now, Jesus was a friend to the friendless
Loving on all the outcasts
Teaching them that there was more
More than what they're living for
More than what they're living for

Don't you see, if you do not learn love
Then you will be completely nothing
You could be absolutely amazing
But you would be nothing

Friday, June 10, 2011

Ice Cream Stains

Every ice cream cone you eat is a race: you versus the melting ice cream.

On Wednesday, I lost the race when a drop of chocolate ice cream landed on my Carolina-blue shirt.  Of course, I was devastated and used every means available to remove the evidence.

After all, this wasn't just any blue t-shirt.  This t-shirt was purchased as part of a fundraiser to send my friend Hannah to eleven countries in eleven months through The World Race.  Hannah is important to me, and I want to proudly wear her missions shirt to support her.  I don't want it to have chocolate ice cream stains on it.

Wait just a second.

What's the shirt for?  Hannah's mission work through The World Race.  I wonder if she has Shout wipes in her pack.  I wonder if she's going to come home unstained after visiting eleven countries in eleven months.

I doubt it. 

Friends, God doesn't call us to look as nice as pristine as we can.  We're called to get dirty.

Jesus got dirty: He washed sore, dusty feet. (See John 13:1-17)
Jesus got dirty: He spent His time with tax collectors.  (See Matthew 9:9-13)
Jesus got dirty: He wept when His friend died. (See John 11:1-44)
Jesus got dirty: He touched lepers.  (See Matthew 8:1-4)
Jesus got dirty: He spit on His own fingers to heal.  (See Mark 7:32-35)
Jesus got dirty: He was whipped, mocked, and crucified. (See Luke 22:47-24:12)
Jesus got dirty; why don't we?

Do I care more about the chocolate stain on Hannah's Race shirt than the people she's going to be ministering to, loving, and serving?  Of course not.  At least not anymore. 

Do you?

<>< Katie

PS: The stain washed out of my shirt, but I don't want this lesson to wash out of my heart.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Wacky Wednesday

Katie: Sometimes broken things are worth keeping.
Nikki: Like us.

Sara: I'm going to lick Cinderella's castle.
Heather: Or you could lick Mickey's butt.  Or you could lick the trash can Goofy touched.  Or you could lick the road where everyone walks.  Or you could lick David's face.  Do all of these sound ridiculous?  So does licking Cinderella's castle!

Katie: Go outside by the puke.
Andy: You want us to buy you some puke?  That's a waste of money.  We could just produce it naturally for you.
Katie: If I ever need any puke, you'll be the first person that I call.
[Elizabeth and Andy kiss loudly]
Katie: I have my own naturally-produced puke now.  Thank you.

Elizabeth: Jennifer!  Do not chip clip your eyelashes!

Nikki: Katie, I'm pretty sure you're one-fourth dog.  I'm going to get a dog whistle just to annoy you because I'm sure you'll hear it.

Katie: Dork.
Jennifer: I'm not a dork.
Katie: "Dork" is a term of endearment just like sassing is a love language.
Jennifer: A dorking is a pigeon with five toes.
Katie: I've also heard a dude is an infected hair on an elephant's butt, but I don't believe that either.
Jennifer: [laughing hysterically] Allyson!  Come here, dude!
[She proceeded to call everyone a dude and laughed all night]

Andy [making lunch for our student teachers]: Do you want ketchup or grape jelly?
Amy: A mix of both.
Andy: Don't tempt me.
Amy: Andy, I like my sandwich cut in the same of animals.
Elizabeth: I like mine cut like monuments.
Andy: Amy, yours are cut like quadrilaterals.

Jennifer: I wish I could buy an eraser just to erase things.

Eva: She's high maintenance.
Evan: That's my fiance she's talking about.
Katie: Are you going to let her talk that way about your fiance?
Evan [with pride]: I like maintaining her.

Katie: I'm studying English, Spanish, and American Sign Language.  This summer I'm going to China.
Josh: You realize none of those languages are going to help you in China, right?

Hannah: What's Katie's last name?  Axelson or Axelton?
Matthew: Have you seen Katie?!  It's not AxelTON.

Jennifer: I could be like a hamster and stick the candy in my cheeks, take it up to my tower, and eat it there!

Grandma: Yeah, we had burnt carrots--
Grandpa: --We had burnt carrots, burnt broccoli, and burnt offerings...

Jennifer: Katie, if I finished your sentences they'd start with words and end with numbers.

Danielle: I don't know how to wrestle Katie.  I'm afraid I'm going to break her in half!
Katie: I told you, she could lift me with two fingers: it's not a fair fight.
[Later I was wrapped around her body and she was standing and spinning]
Jo: Oh!  Don't hurt her head!
Katie: But it's ok to hurt the rest of me?

Nikki: Sometimes I just really don't think it's fair that I  am so blessed with so many of you wonderful girls in my life when there are lonely people in this world. [beat] Maybe I should start pawning you off to lonely people. [beat] Katie, you're first!

Katie: The sauce-dressing stuff on this salad is so thick and overpowering that I can't tell what's chicken and what's a crouton.
Josh: I feel like that may be the point.

Jennifer: BRRRR!
Nikki: I'm sobrrrr!
Katie: I'm not.

Nikki: Andy, the word "sloughing" is in this book.  And I used it today.
Andy: In a periodical sense?

[In the coffee shop, Amber's giving the attention wave to her computer.  She was watching a video.  Entire conversation in ASL]
Katie: Are you talking to yourself?
Amber: No, I'm in class, and I'm copying the teacher.
Katie: Why?
Amber: Because it's fun.
Katie: So you are talking to yourself.  Or you're four.  Which?
Amber: That one! [the four]

Katie: Ladies, you crack me up!
Jennifer: Oh, do you need some glue?

Dr. D: I never sneeze in dark rooms.

Jennifer and Allyson: Do you need anything from the store or the bank or the coffee shop?
Katie: I mean, if the bank is giving out free samples, I'll take some.

Lauren: Oh, man!  This scratch paper she gave us is so big and antique-looking.  It intimidated me.  I had to get a piece of scratch paper for my scratch paper.

Jennifer: I don't want to go to dinner.  I forfeit dinner.

[Andy was studying.  I was reading with my head in Amy's lap; Amy was studying]
Andy: Katie, you have a laceration on the occipital portion of your head.
Katie: Amy, I'm sorry I'm bleeding to death in your lap.
Amy [pulling away]: WHAT?!

Jennifer [singing]: Holy, holy, holy!
Katie [spoken]: Can I finish my story?  Lord God Almighty.

Dr. H [female]: This is my stun gun. POW!
Matthew: Don't taze me, bro!

Jonathan Martin: When the Spirit is working, there is a strange cocktail of supernatural boldness and awareness of my fragility.  It's like His calling card.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Tell Her She's Beautiful

This only blogging every other day has been really hard this week. Just a reminder, I'm updating my blog every other day for Lent. That means this week I'm on a Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday schedule; next week it'll be Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Sunday and so on. Oh, and a special thanks to my newest "followers." I logged in and had a new one then refreshed the page and had another new one. I refreshed it again and nothing happened. However, several hours later Hannah joined blogger and my number of followers has almost doubled in one day! :-)

A few weeks ago an anonymous woman wrote encouraging notes and stuck them on the mirrors in every woman's bathroom campus wide. Apparently some people found them cheesy but personally I enjoyed being reminded that the mirror doesn't determine my self-worth. She (whoever the anonymous "she" may be) put a lot of effort into this project because every Post-It note I saw was different. Wow!

Like I said, this was several weeks ago and most of the Post-It notes are now gone. I don't think they were pitched, however. Instead, they're appearing in other bizarre places: on dashboards of cars, stuck to the outside of Moby Dick's fish tank, and on class notebooks. It's as if a girl says, "I need to hear this every single day, so I'm going to take it remember."

I didn't steal a Post-It note. Sure, I throw rants about clothing not being made for people but all in all I'm pretty content with who I am. I don't really struggle with my image, or at least I didn't think so. I don't wear make-up. My wardrobe consists of jeans and a t-shirt day in and day out (remember those clothes not made for people?). I use a mirror but don't spend hours fixing my hair. I really don't care that much. At least I thought I didn't. Until I realized I was only wearing earrings on days when I saw people I wanted to impress. That didn't really bother me. This past Sunday bothered me more.

Allyson and I were invited to sing with my church's choir. Wearing robes. This means all the congregations sees is heads. I actually curled my hair, wore earrings, and put on a full face of make-up (and I'm still paying for it, thank you, dry skin). Since she's learned almost everything I do is intentional and enjoys hearing my bizarre reasons, Allyson asked me why. My answer surprised me.

"If all the congregation can see of me is my face, it might as well be a pretty face."

Woah! This from the girl who doesn't really care?

Later that night, my dress for spring formal arrived. It's the same dress I wore for prom, so I already knew it fit, yet I still had to try it on. As the lavender floor-length dress slid over my head I was transformed from the exhausted college student ready to go to bed into a princess headed to a ball. Five minutes later, the dress came off and the exhaustion returned in an almost-overwhelming wave. I got nothing done for the rest of the night because I let the desire to feel beautiful control me and the pony-tail line in my hair wasn't helping.

Ladies, we all need to feel beautiful now and again. It's natural. But it's not natural for this desire to consume you every being. Sure, some days we feel prettier than others. It's natural, again, if it's not controlling you. The mirror can be cruel but it does not determine who you are. Whether you want to admit it or not, you are beautiful on the inside and out. You won't be more beautiful with your hair curled (or straightened). Guess what: you won't be happy when you Wii Fit's Mii shrinks because you're underweight. Please trust me on this one. Be content in who you are.

Gentlemen, you had better tell her she's beautiful. Not "hot." Not "sexy." Not even "fine" like Andy tried the other day. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. Radiant. Every woman needs to hear she's beautiful. Have you told her today?

"You are altogether beautiful, My love; there is no flaw in you." - Songs of Solomon 4:7

That's God talking to you, friends.

<>< Katie

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Indecisiveness Leads to Skinned Knees

After going to a meeting that is really next week, I was carrying a stack of papers, water bottle, and camera while I rode my bike back to my apartment today. I had a decision to make: take the sidewalk or the road. It's up and hill and the two are not parallel in this area. Yesterday, I took the sidewalk and didn't quite make it up the hill. Today I couldn't decide if I wanted to take the road or the sidewalk.

Road? Sidewalk? Road? Sidewalk? Road?

As I created a pros and cons chart for each option, I continued to race towards the intersection. I finally decided on the road, but then I noticed the road has speed bumps. I changed my mind and opted for the sidewalk. Unfortunately, it was too late to decide, and I met the grass, rocks, and sidewalk up close and personally.

Luckily, only two people saw (or admitted they saw). Of course, they're two people I don't know, so I will forever be ingrained in their brains as the girl who can't ride a bike. My ego and knees are bruised, but I'm OK. My bike, took a harder fall than I did; the chain fell off.

Several hours later I was talking to my friend Hannah about this mishap and about another problem I've been facing. I'm trying to decide which ministry to join this year. There are two and I can't do both (or I'll be over committed). One minute, I'm game to do one, and the next minute I change to the other one.

This? That? This? That?
Road? Sidewalk? Road? Sidewalk?

It was kind of as if God said, "Either is fine, but you'd better decide before it's too late and you wipe out completely. Oh, and don't change your mind either."

Well, folks, let's go ride a bike!

<>< Katie

PS: For those of you who are wondering: yes, I was wearing my helmet. No, the papers did not go flying everywhere. Yes, the chain is back on my bike thanks to Daddy Delaware.