Immanuel: God With Us

 “And they shall call His name Immanuel, which is translated ‘God with us’” (Matthew 1:23).

Created With
In the Garden of Eden, God didn’t create doers; He created beings. We weren’t created with the ability or purpose to give Him something that doesn’t originate from an expenditure of His own power. He simply called us into existence to be with Him. To talk with and walk with in the garden.

People were created for community with each other and with God, and I found an example of this recently. Little boys from Los Leones weren’t allowed near the Las Lilas’ house under former teachers, but that effectively separated siblings: Soledad from Juancito and Nirza from Benja and Chacho. While Carlo was filling in as Leones house parent, we had a lot of co-ed days, especially sharing our swings and our meals. “Both houses seem more well behaved,” Maddy commented. “Lilas are less dramatic and Leones are less troublesome.” “Man, boys and girls were created to balance each other out,” someone else concluded.

Be With
Jesus came as a baby to be with us. The God of the Universe risked heaven for the sake of being able to restore what we had in the Garden. Treson pointed out one night that Jesus chose to come to a low social class wrought with family problems, much like Familia Feliz. He reminded me that most of Jesus’ life was spent just living with people here. He concluded, “And you know what? What He did mattered. It made a difference.”

Being with does make a difference. It’s been especially amazing for me to spend time with just three girls. While the rest of the kids are the “lucky ones,” getting to be with family for vacaciones, a few remain on campus. In Las Lilas, there are Maribel, Soledad, and Milenca. 

Maribel loves to be with you, as her love language is physical touch; she’ll sit with zero respect of personal space, draping a leg over your lap at the dinner table till you politely push it off, or plopping her feet into the bucket of water you’re soaking yours in. She is a little bit crazy, a little bit (or a lot) silly, a little bit overly sensitive, a little girl who had to grow up too fast.

Soledad doesn’t like el arroyo — the only child of her kind — “because it’s dirty.” Amen. She spends a decent amount of time just being with whichever SM takes Las Lilas to swim, sitting on my picnic blanket, talking or reading or playing on Duolingo. She’s mothering (AKA a control freak), opinionated, and impeccably organized. Her being with is less childish, less apparently needy than the others, but still values presence behind the I’m-strong-and-independent-ness.

Milenca is iconic ten-year-old and had a lot of airtime in my last post, but her personality has definitely grown to fill all the space the other five girls left. Crazy is a compliment to her, veggies (especially the sprouts I recently grew) are her favorite, and bear hugs, brutal honesty, and the best compliments are all synonymous with her being.

Milenca spent the last night before I left for vacation in my room. She accidentally fell asleep in my hammock with a kitten and I didn’t have the heart to wake her up and send her to her room. When I’d wake up in the middle of the night, I caught myself grinning just to know there was someone there with me, some little girl, comfy cozy, suspended at the foot of my bed. There’s a power of presence. Of someone with.

Now, something you don’t want to experience being with is some living creature within your mosquito net. For me, my most recent encounter wasn’t the seven blood-filled mosquitoes I woke up to in November, but instead a fat cockroach crawling over my arm. Good morning I guess. Silent scream. Can’t wake up Milenca, after all. Staring contest with roach. Gingerly untuck mosquito net and lift it with right hand. Scoop bug with left hand. Shake it into the depths of your sheets when it crawls up your arm. Play hide and seek. Win. Repeat initially-failed cockroach scooping. Scoot it to the edge of your bed without quite enough force to fling it to the floor. Watch it scamper underneath your mattress in triumph. Shudder. Retuck mosquito net. Lie down again. Laugh. Block out memory until writing it in blog.

The day before the last six SMs on campus were scheduled to leave for vacation, we were sent scrambling with our plans to visit Peru for twelve days. The US declared a Level 4 Do Not Travel restriction after Peru declared a 30-day national emergency. Riots killing tourists, endangering train travel to Machu Picchu, and angry throngs in our destination cities made it a no-go. Almost half of our vacation had to be reworked less than 24-hours from leaving. In the midst of planning panic, Lisi texted our group chat, “I’m cool with whatever we do cuz we’ll be together.” She’s right. It’s the togetherness that matters. And hey, now we’ll be together in Chile!

Life With
Paul’s missionary journeys have always been the peak example of ministry for me. Besides Jesus’ life, of course. A recent realization and application is that his method of evangelism is very similar to my student mission experience now: go somewhere new, do life with people for a couple years and make relationships (Jennie Allen, Find Your People). His journeys weren’t quick or easy, but drawn out living.

“Teacher, ¿cómo puedo crecer grande para hacer cosas grandes como usted?” (“How do I grow big to do big things like you?”) Milenca stood next to me as we chopped beets and potatoes. “Big things like what?” “Like you being here in Bolivia with me.” Woah. My heart melted. “All you have to do is grow closer to Jesus.” “No, that’s too easy! What did you do?” “It seems easy, but that’s all I did. When you’re close to a Big God, He tells you how to do big things.” “Hmmm.”

Milenca pointed out Orion’s Belt on a walk with me to the Harding House: “Teacher, look at those three stars together!” I stopped with her and oohed and ahhed for a long time. “Did you know Jesus will come through the middle star?” “No way!!” We spun in circles looking up at a gorgeous sky, talking about what we were excited for when Jesus comes. That’s the kinda living here I want more of, to name drop Jesus more.

Looking at the stars reminds me of one night after Friday vespers out in the same cancha when Alejandro pointed up into the darkness and told me, “That big, bright one is my star.” “Ok, when I see it I’ll remember you forever.” Big grin, nod, hug.

Don’t rush through something if you want it to last forever. That’s my conclusion about living here. Instead of worrying what activity is coming next, just trying to get through the day, merely surviving, I want to slow down my own existence even more. To make an eternal impact, to have a moment to be remembered, time is required. Putting aside hurry is intentionality for these kids that I want more of.

Came With
Jesus calls us to come with Him. He invites us to come along with Him while simultaneously offering to come along with us. That’s relationship. “Follow Me,” is an iconic Jesus phrase. I have come to interpret it not as, “Here, I’ll go along with your plans,” but, “Watch this! I have a crazy adventure in mind just for you if you trust Me.”

Milenca is the queen of “¿Puedo acompañarse?” (“Can I come with you?”) when I go somewhere, and usually she has no idea where I’m planning. It makes me smile to have a tag-along, especially when she reaches for my hand. It also makes me think that Jesus smiles when I ask to go somewhere with Him, especially when I reach up and put myself in close proximity. 

“Can we go walking?” My girls asked me last week. “Sure!” I love drizzly day walks along the side of the road, rainforest a few feet to either side. “But can the kittens come with us?” “The kittens??” I did a double-take before cracking up: Maribel was holding Buffy (pronounced “boo-fee”), who was clad in a homemade sweater and hat with ears. Comedy. Coming with is what these kittens do now, paraded down the road.

God With
God has always wanted to be with us, from Jesus breathing life into Adam and walking with him as a friend to the Father sending His Son to restore the possibility of coming face-to-face, to the Holy Spirit being with us so closely we describe Him as “in us.”

Michael Card’s “Immanuel” is the song Carlo says he loves for encouragement, and it’s always been a favorite of mine, too. Now, more than ever.

A sign shall be given, 
a virgin will conceive
a human baby bearing
undiminished deity.
The Glory of the Nations,
a Light for all to see,
and Hope for all who will embrace
His warm reality.

Immanuel,
our God is with us,
and if God is with us
who could stand against us?
Our God is with us,
Immanuel.

For all those who live
in the shadow of death,
a glorious light has dawned.
For all those who stumble
in the darkness, behold! 
Your Light has come!

Immanuel,
our God is with us,
and if God is with us
who could stand against us?
Our God is with us,
Immanuel.

So what will be your answer?
Will you hear the call
of Him who did not spare His Son
but gave Him for us all?
On earth there is no power,
there is no depth or height 
that could ever separate us from
the love of God in Christ.

Immanuel,
our God is with us,
and if God is with us
who could stand against us?
Our God is with us,
Immanuel.

Love from me, wishing to be with you,
and wishing you a merry Christmas,
Katie-Jane

“What shall we say to these things?
If God is for us, who can be against us?”
—Romans 8:31

Don’t rush something you
want to last forever

Buffy and Maribel having a
fashion show in my room

Milenca

Milenca wanting to take mine, too

Christmas: 
a chance for presence valued above presents

Merry Christmas from a very cold 99 degrees or so
(also, happy 23rd birthday to Treson!)

Soledad y Panquecito

Buffy ready for a walk

Zoro, the epitome of being with

Slumber party buddies