Posted in polygamist by Samantha Moor on 12/5/2011
Entering Polygamy
My teammate clutched her stomach and with an immense gulping noise hunched over to puke. Before I could realize what I was doing I cupped my hands and caught most of the puke before the rest covered a near by sleep sheet. I'll spare you the even gorier details that followed that moment but it is important to also note that she was seated on the "Bridal pallet" that our African contact had made for me. After getting violently ill in the Malawian bush my team was forced to spend a night journeying through the African country side back to some semblance of civilization. Along the way we stayed for a few hours with a very generous man who we had met a few days before. when we first entered his "compound" I noticed a large amount of women and children. Knowing that a number of the African in these regions practices polygamy, a small red flag waved in the back of my mind. A number of other things made me uneasy around this particular gentleman. Though he was very generous and kind, he seemed to prefer me to the other in my company despite the fact I had some of the most GORGEOUS teammates possible. He would always address me first, serve my drink before the others, and with a number of other small awkward moments leading up to the puke in my hands while sitting in his living room, I couldn't shake the feeling he had his eye on me. The MOST AWKWARD had to have been when that evening; he had laid out bedding for everyone and then went about making a small pallet on the floor that he kept calling "the bridal bed." He then instructed me that I MUST SLEEP THERE. Even though my other teammate was desperately ill.
Finally I remember being so annoyed and honestly a little creeped out that I stopped being polite. And when we had to wake him up at 3am to take us to the hospital I didn't even Thank Him. I let the other members of my team effusively show appreciation for all that he had done. But when he said goodbye using the nickname he had given me in Kokola, I merely waved flippantly. (granted I had been in the bush, hadn't slept for two days, had dry puke, and other more unmentionable bodily fluid that WEREN'T MINE covering my clothes, and exhaust fumes had temporarily stained my face grey, Oh and the last thing I had eaten was goat intestines! But none of that excuses what happened next.) In my mind I solidified that no matter WHAT; I no longer liked to be around polygamist. Can you imagine? Can you imagine if on one of the missionary journeys in the bible Paul would have said; I no longer wan to share the good news with Syrians!
I can't imagine it either! After all that is why you were probably reading my blog, because I promised to got out and share Jesus to those who most desperately needed him! But it get's worse...I had done this before. I had rejected whole groups of people, whole sections of society, and entire institutions ALL IN THE NAME OF JESUS. After all I am very forthcoming with my beliefs...which is why I now have to share with you something that has been hard for me to find a way to articulate...
God is calling me to something new. Something I didn't for see.
Something that will take
Perservearance
Patience
Passion
and
Pois
You guessed it,
Politics!
Now to be honest many American's probably have a more positive opinion about Polygamists than Politicians. However, since I was a YOUNG child I have gravitated towards all things political. Though, after being raised in and around capital hill and more importantly being raised in the era presidential ethical decline, where dirty laundry is aired on the nightly news. I decided in college that this power hungry and corrupt pillar of society wasn't worth the investment. that I couldn't change it, so why bother?
Well Polygamy, that's why!
Upon remembering those bleak nights in the Malawi I find myself not shuttering at the puke in my hands, the roaches in our bags, or the layer of dirt caked on my hair but about the posture of my heart. So a year later as I sat reading a book on polygamy that was ghost authored by a polygamist wife who truly loves her life style, I couldn't help but feel disgusted by myself. There I had been; half way across the world with one opportunity to love this man and his family and instead, I had judged them. I had been the opposite of Jesus. I had let my comfort be more important than my calling. I had said "No" to loving these people WHEN JESUS HAD SAID "YES." Because no matter the lives we live we are all in desperate need of the "Yes" Jesus uttered in the Garden. If He had put His comfort before His calling we wouldn't have a cross to claim. And the subsequent grace that flowed from His veins was for all of creation! All of US, all the perverse, corrupt, and lost sinners TO BE SET FREE! If only I believed it then. Granted I still wouldn't have slept in "the bridal bed;" I mean loving like Christ is one thing, sister wives is a WHOLE different story! And any one who has gone on the race can attest to the fact that 50 some girls to 20 some guys is never a great combination!
So why tell you about my heart change?
One, because I have been so transparent over the last year to share with you some of scales God has removed from my eyes. Wether it be with devout muslims, slum kids, or polygamist I feel privileged to say He is revealing to me A SLIVER of how precious we all are in His sight! Secondly, because what this means for my ministry!
Over the next few months I will be spending time with family, saving up money, volunteering for some political campaigns in the south east while pursuing some more schooling! All in order to better engage with the political pillar of society that I had for so long cast off for its inherent evil! Because I realize if perception is reality, than we better start changing the perception of politics so the reality can get a little better. Because you should know at the end of the day I am a desperate optimist who believe she can be the change, she wishes to see in the world!
AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TAKING THE TIME TO READ THIS, TO PRAY FOR THE RACE, AND MOST OF ALL PURSUE CHRIST! I have a special place in my heart for each one of you! So does He!
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Posted in Iraq by Samantha Moor on 9/11/2011
A message from Iraq.
"Hey Sam it's been a while,
I see you go by Sami now, I like that, it fits. I hope this gets to you. I messaged you during our first 6 month tour, I didn't ever hear back from you. I know you've been around the world since then, I guess I have too. I wanted to drop a line because I need you to pray for me. I read one of your blogs a few months back, and I have to admit I didn't really like it. Really, I thought "she doesn't know what the f*** she's talking about." I was pretty messed up after my first tour. But last week I thought of it again. I went back to your blog on Bin Laden and It really messed me up to think about how racist I'd become. I know we don't know each other really at all anymore, but I don't have many people in my life now who seem to have the faith you do. You seem like you could pray for us. I want to thank you for going and doing God's work. I'm just doing my best over here. Guess that's my way of helping. It's what they tell me I'm doing by the way, they say we are "changing the hearts and minds to the Iraqi's." The only heart and mind changed is my own. like I said I'm afraid I've grown pretty racist now, I'm not sure if I'd say I've murdered people but killing them because you don't like them could be murder? I'm rambling again. But it reminds me of how we debated that a bunch.
Anyways Sam, I hope your mission is going better than mine, thanks for reading this. You don't have to respond though, I feel a little stupid for writing you. I just wanted to write someone back home today, seeing as how it's a big deal and all. miss you."
I walked in from church today flicked on the lights and walked right to the fridge, I started pulling out ingredients for a MASSIVE salad, my stomach had been rumbling all service long. I opened my computer and let it load while I assembled my lunch. I was trying to stab a piece of badly behaving broccoli when the title of his e-mail sent my fork tumbling from my hand. It clanged clumsily on the edge of the stove before stabbing my foot. I swore loudly and bent to pick it up while my mind flooded with anxious thoughts.
I clicked open the message. He had posted this comment on one of my earliest blogs. I hastily clicked the link to read the full message. After the first few lines my eyes were so full of tears I couldn't keep reading. Blinking furiously to let the tears drop to my keyboard.
When I was done, I read it again. The third time I skimmed over the middle, and by the fourth time all I could see was
"messed up"
"mission"
"murderer"
"miss you"
I thought for a second about how I used to know this man. How we hadn't known each other long. How I hadn't thought about him in a while.
But then with a flash of angry passion I thought; No, I know this man! I know he is a man of honor, character, confidence, integrity, wisdom, love, faith, and HOPE. So I sat on the floor of my room and tried to clear my head. Before I knew it God had me typing this short letter to send back to him.
Letter to Iraq:
"I am proud of you.
I loved you.
I always will.
I brag about you.
There is nothing you can do that will make me ashamed of you.
There is no reality you are facing that will make me abandon you.
I want you close to me.
You are on my mind every night.
I want a relationship with you.
You are my Son, who I adore."
-Your Papa in Heaven
p.s. You are more than the product of this reality! You were created for eternity. I can't wait to see you there and thank you for doing the best you could in this life! Or we could always skype! Ha, didn't want to ruin the serious vibe, but I am here if you'd like to talk.
I clicked send before i could think twice. I didn't want to analyze it, and be too much of a girl about it. I know that for the first 30 seconds of that e-mail I sound a little crazy, but that's okay. More important than my pride is making sure I communicate who he is in Christ.
I just wish I had the e-mail address of some of the Iraqi's on the other side. Because at the end of the day, they deserve to know their identity in Christ too!
Thanks for taking the time to read this precious correspondence today, PLEASE WRITE ONE OF YOUR OWN! If there is anyone you know who is serving their country today please let them know how loved they are!
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Posted in support by Samantha Moor on 8/26/2011
"That's what she said!" The words slipped out before I realized what I was saying...
Now I won't be able to come back to work next Monday!
BUT THE TWO ARE NOT RELATED!
Here I was talking to this guy about his fears of being a missionary, and raising financial support! And as a role model and mentor for him I was cracking dirty jokes. LUCKILY he chuckled and cut off my apology saying; "Honestly that just made me realize I'll fit in well with you all, let's schedule that interview!"
PHEW! Thank you God for grace, seriously!
So why can't I come back Monday morning? I HAVE RUN OUT OF financial SUPPORT!
Below are some of the more RIDICULOUS questions I have been asked during my time here, because it's important to keep smiling and laughing even in the face of great need!
"All the countries speak American right?"
"Can I pack a years worth of peanut butter in my carry on?"
"Can I bring a separate pack for my dog?"
"If we are a married couple can we still have sex?"
"I don't want to go anywhere cold like Australia."
"Can my granddaughter and I go together?"
"Will I need a passport?"
"Can my mom send me food?"
"So my daughter will stay with my wife while I'm gone..."
"Is there a height requirement?"
-Curtesy of the future World Racers
Everyday I talk to people WHO WANT TO CHANGE THE WORLD.
People like you.
I know that God uses us all to do his work whether it's funding it, building it, teaching it, or just doing it!
We can all change the world today!
AND I WANT TO SHARE THAT WITH EVERYONE I TALK TO EVERYDAY ON THE PHONE!
BUT COME MONDAY I WON'T BE ABLE TO DO THAT ANYMORE, Not without you! So here again is the Link if you feel God's leading to help MISSIONARIES GO OUT INTO THE NATIONS!
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Posted in sonship by Samantha Moor on 7/13/2011
I still have a stain on my favorite tie-dye shirt from where I wiped the blood off of Angel's arm. The sun shaped stain reminds me of the smoldering days in the smelly streets of the Dominican Republic where Angel and I would spend an hour just throwing a tennis ball back and forth. One day as we did just that he was running through the field where the kids played and tripped on some trash slicing his arm open on a broken bottle. I hurried to him and held him in my lap. I wiped his tears with my sweaty bandana and used my shirt, the cleanest thing I could find, to wipe his arm. He sat in my arms as he stopped crying and when I dried the last crocodile tear from his cute cheek he ran to go play again with the other kids.
Angel was my favorite. there was no doubt about it. Every morning on our 45 minute walk to ministry I looked forward to his smile and to the silent hours we would spend playing in the trash and weeds.
As he walked away from my arms that day I watched him stoop down and pick up part of an old condom wrapper to wipe the rest of the dry blood off his arm. I just stayed there on the stoop watching him with my own crocodile tears starting to form. I hated that this was where he had to live. I hated the socioeconomic and geographical separation between us.
It's been one year since that moment. But two days ago I found another small child needing to be held in their Father's arms.
I was sitting AT MY NEW DESK! at AIM! Loving every minute of it! I was sitting there setting up my new work station just laughing with these new friends and joying with the Lord. As I sat my last folder on my desk I got a paper cut! I slipped to the bathroom to run my finger under the sink. I felt the sting of the Hot water in my knee caps! How can this little cut hurt so much I thought!?
and then gently and sweetly I heard a whispering voice in my ear.
"Sometimes I don't stop the cuts of this world so I can clean you up, and hold you in my arms."
I closed my eyes. I was crying. I'm not a cryer. I tried to pull it together, after all it was only a damn paper cut, and here I was crying in the ladies room! What if one of my new colleagues came in and saw me.
and then there it was again gently and sweetly a soft whisper in my ear.
"This is just for you and me, there is no shame in my arms, I love you."
I held my breath. I was being silly, why was I letting this paper cut get to me.
a whisper. "stop."
So I did. I stopped trying to make my life simple. To make it about paper cuts. I let the Lord use that moment to speak to me. and when I did, I remembered Angel and how much I loved joying with him the same way I loved holding him in my arms. I remembered how much I grieved where he had to be, and how much I wanted to make it better for him, yet all I could do was LOVE.
I was Angel. God delights in my smiles and my tears. I am His favorite and He is eager for the time we get with each other. He hates to see me wipe my wounds with the things of this world yet doesn't just want me broken in His arms. He wants me running free and laughing. Just not here with all this separation, He wants me to be where He is.
Whether it's a field in the Dominican or in Georgia He is at work.
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Posted in All About Sam by Samantha Moor on 6/20/2011
A white girls attempt with a ghetto God.
I am convinced that the Holy Spirit's got a little ghetto in Him. Now there is no theology in the world that can back me up on that, but I know I've watched enough people Get Down with the Holy Ghost this year to believe it! and after He wrote this for me the other day I feel it's confirmed!
The other day I had an epic fail. I let Satan convince me, that I define my identity, and because of that he whispered that I was worthless and unlovable. BUT THAT IS NOT TRUTH! and this is what the Lord wrote me to remind me of that.
I often parade like I have it made,
but dwell with a heart torn twisted apart.
With a want to sin I blame on my skin.
This flesh of mine that tells me I'm fine
when I know I am not. I am rought,
with the falsity that I can never be FREE.
I fake the climb to spend some time,
on this mountain peek, His presence I seek.
But I fall away down, running from the crown
thorns that bled of a grace colored red.
I fain a good fight using only my might.
when will I break for only His sake?
Wheel keep spinning and I keep sinning,
because my reflection isn't perfection.
In my blinded eyes I can't see I'm the prize!
Oh what lies indeed, demons do feed.
they whisper untruth, that I'm no Ruth.
Yet, they are undone by the coming Son.
He came here, to shatter eternal fear.
to shed on me the His identity!
If I were only to see who I am in thee,
there is no chain that could remain!
So I refuse to let who I'm not, negate that I bought!
Paid in blood, covered by the flood.
I am not identified by iniquities pride.
His blood in my veins, no offense remains.
Soon to return to give Satan his earn.
So what I know, is this is no show.
No performance to play, because like a new day,
I am raised with the Son, we are one.
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Posted in Leap of Faith by Samantha Moor on 5/31/2011
It was well passed midnight, and the roof was rough on my legs as I sat dangling them over the edge of our five story hotel. The moon brightly lit the sky and we were on the highest vantage point of the small Malaysian Island. Daniel and I sat there in silence for a few seconds. We had spent the last hour of my birthday talking about this past year, where God had brought us and where He is taking us! We rambled, we encouraged, we laughed, we pondered, we praised! I realized there in that moment that this WAS NOT THE END. In fact, as I let that reality sink further into my heart. I realized this was not the journey, this was the preparation.
Here I was, metaphorically on the edge. Dangling my feet over this sheer drop off looking out over the beauty of God's creation, and please don't judge me for this sappy sentiment, but I knew then and there I had two options. I could Jump and fall and let this Race have been a high point in my life that cast a shadow over my next season. OR I could jump and fly...I could let the Lord lift me to higher heights even to the Heavens if He chooses. but regardless I was going to have to jump. because this was the end.
So I stood up, spread my arms like they do in cartoons, and leaned over the edge. I took in one long breath and closed my eyes. And then Daniel looked at me like I was crazy! Haha, okay the truth is at that in that moment I metaphorically did those things, and though the jump wasn't physical it was just as heart pounding. I decided to talk to Daniel about what I was feeling called to after the race. I told him about my passion for Adventures In Missions. I told him how for the first time in years I felt like God might not be calling me to be single forever, I told him the secrets I had kept locked up.
It wasn't until two days later as I faced the last day of the World Race I realized something had happened that night on the roof that will inevitably change my life. I realized that secrets are meant to be shared! Silence only allows in Satan. And no dream worth dreaming should be kept silent.
After all, life is about a story, and no one will remember your secrets, they'll remember your story! So here are some of the post-secrets that my squad decided not to stay silent about.
"Truth stands the test of time, lies are soon exposed." Proverbs 12:19
These are our secrets, our stories.
"We Skinny-Dipped...twice"
"You know me better than my family does"
"I'm scared that I won't be as different as I went on the race to become"
"I'm called to you"
"We pooped in our tents"
" We blew up a semi truck"
"I was the reason for all the Kwatcha"
"I think God doesn't want to heal me, because I need Him more when I'm sick"
"I'm worried I'll never smell good again (because I don't want to)"
"I want to go back out on the mission field but I don't trust the Lord enough to tell anyone"
"I didn't tell you then the hard truth that would have changed you for the better; so I blame myself for your mistakes"
"The first time I have ever genuinely felt loved was by a little orphan girl in Thailand"
This is the smallest glimpse into the secrets we kept, the secrets in the body of Christ.
And it's only polite to reciprocate! So what are yours? What are you scared to say? What are you letting Satan keep you silent with? I challenge you today to let it out, to let in light, and to be bold with what you're dreaming!
"God...is able to do far more than we would dare to ask or even dream of--- infinitely beyond our highest prayers, desires, thoughts or hopes." Eph. 3:20
Thank you all so much for taking the time to read my blog this year! Your love, support, and prayers have meant the world to me!
To continue supporting me as I continue missions work with AIM please donate HERE!
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Posted in Racism by Samantha Moor on 5/4/2011
Every night I brush my teeth with three devout Muslim men. Well to be fair I brush my teeth as they go about their daily chores washing dishes, checking laundry, watching t.v., and even praying. To be even more fair they don't know I am watching. Creepy I know, but their apartment is across a ten foot alley from mine and neither of us has glass windows, just bars.
This month I live above a restaurant in the heart of Kuala Lumpur or KL as the natives call it. We sleep on mattresses on the floor of a large room they have re purposed for a church. It isn't like any American church I've ever been to in fact it is far more akin to some of the Haitian churches I have visited. Its 8 foot windows have only wire and old poster board to cover them. The rain blows in and cools us off at night. The bathrooms are luxurious for World Race standards, aka there is a sink and a shower head in make shift room with bowls to flush the toilet. Our kitchen is two tables in a room with a sink, and I have more than once woken up to the scurry of a roach on my pillow. Yet, there is electricity, clean water, a lock on the doors, and our 5 Malay roommate to make us feel more at ease.  And each night I stand at the bathroom sink staring out of the large window watching these men go about their day just like me. They wear traditional Muslim garb and sit around the table reading newspapers and eating toast. They laugh with each other and playfully slap one another on the back. I can't help but see how similar we are. They brush their teeth just like their parents taught them, and every now and then we make a polite wave towards one another, and go about our lives. We coexist.
The sad part is this shouldn't be so shocking to me. Coexisting shouldn't surprise me at all! But it did.
So tonight as I sat there swishing my Listerine my eyes burning with tears, it wasn't from the alcohol burning the germs in my mouth. (the commercials are a total lie by the way, and the only refreshing part about mouth wash is spitting it out!) But my eyes welled with humility. Because despite my years studying international relations and politics at Wheaton, or my time living in Chicago, or growing up in D.C., or my parents, or my travels across the globe and back, I had become racist!
Here I was puzzling at how these Muslim men and I could be living within literally feet of each other, as if we weren't both human. As if they didn't cry when the used mouth wash, or clean their dishes, or read the newspaper. I didn't have to wonder for long how I had become like this, because I knew. I knew that thence 2001 when I was only 12 years old the media had painted these men as my enemy. I watched movie after movie where their only depiction was as terrorists. I saw faces that looked like theirs on the news. I saw names like theirs scroll across the bottom of the t.v. attached to bombs that killed people in markets and buses. I was racist because I was trained to see all Muslims as the enemy.
That sounds extreme doesn't it? It sounds like I am claiming to be brainwashed, like I am not responsible for my own opinions. But that is the truth, I have been culturally conditioned to believe that all men like this would hurt me if given the opportunity. Jack Bower taught me that. I have been taught that all Muslim mosques are covers for terror cells, Lie to me taught me that. I have been taught that the war on terror looks like Muslim men who wear facial hair and robes in public, the nightly news taught me that.
But today in the market I learned that me and a woman in a full burka use the same shampoo, and me and little 6 year old Muslim boy both like fruit mentos, and me and my Muslim neighbors prefer milk in our tea and to use Listerine after we brush our teeth.
I know back home today there is a lot of fear. Fear that people will retaliate for what happened to Osama Bin Laden. But I can tell you that same fear ran through the veins of Muslim men and women all across the globe the day after September 11th. Fear that because of what one group of Muslims did there would be retaliation. It's been almost a decade since Osama's name became a household insignia for terror, and in those ten years, almost half of my life, I had been taught to associate him with all Muslim men. But so had my neighbors. In their newspaper I am the enemy, on their nightly news it is my father, brother, or son that is killing their people. To them I am the enemy. Which is exactly what Satan wants. He wants these men to see people who look like me, who talk like me, who dress like me and to judge us, the same way I judged them. To not see my humanity. After all that is what racism is, it is to dehumanize someone.
These picture are what I see daily here in KL, these are the faces of the Muslim world we rarely see in the west. If we want to end the violence, or avoid retaliation we need to stop letting the enemy make us each other's enemy. We first must see each other's humanity. 
Maybe somehow you have been able to stand strong against the media barrage or the societal disapproval of Muslims. But if by the off chance in light of recent events you are like me and need to be reminded.
Then allow me the humbling privilege to remind you that women in burkas need shampoo too and that they too have kids that beg for candy at the check out line. Because "All men are created equal" is more than an upstanding sentiment; it is a fundamental truth! Elaborated on by one of our founding fathers but testified to originally in scripture when Jesus came for all men, Jew, and gentile alike! And the blood that He shed wasn't just for sinners like you and me, but for the Muslim men who I brush my teeth with every night.
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Posted in General Posts by Samantha Moor on 2/22/2011
Last night, my God made a 14 year old Filipino street girl weep in my arms.
Her name is Edilyn.
She sells herself on the streets daily for the equivalent of less than one American dollar. When she isn't working she sniffs sealant to escape the hunger and hurt of her life.
As I walked up to her last night I saw tears on her cheeks she was panicked, someone had stollen her purse! I asked a translator to help me tell her that my purse had been stolen that very same week, and I understood how she felt.
When I was able to relate to her in that moment she let me in! I had a good friend point out to me that God used that rough thing in my life to speak to this girl, and that might be the point of the whole ordeal, because God cared enough about her to have me share an experience with her.
I began to pray that the Lord would show his faith to her by bringing back her purse! A few minutes later she found a friend who had gotten her purse back for her, a miracle! No matter how small, God cares about the details!
I asked her to come sit down next to me and I would play with her hair until she felt better. She was pretty calm by then despite the traffic rushing by, the jeepney drivers yelling from the street, and the men walking out of the "massage parlor" behind us who gave her looks that boiled my blood. This chaos is her home. These streets of smog and stench are her bedroom.
After a few minutes I felt her relax back against my knees and I heard God say, "sing to her!"
"No!" I said! I am very self-conscious about singing and thought it would be so awkward for this girl who was just getting comfortable with me.
"I can use anyone else in a second, I am asking you to be me to this girl, will you really say no?"
So i began to sing, "Amazing grace how sweet the sound..." It was truth that poured over both she and I, we were both wretches who were lost, but in that moment God's love was flowing over us with grace, we were found. I sang and sang until I ran out of songs.
When I went silent she turned around tears streaming down her cheeks and looked into my eyes. In that moment it was not my heart that beat in my chest but God's for this little girl. So beautiful, so treasured, so seen by her Heavenly Father!
We sat there staring into each other's eyes and letting God's warm love flow down our cheeks.
It was the kind of moment that wrecked me for life, and taught me more than I can even realize now.
Later that night I sat on the curb serving these kids one of the only meals they will get all week. I was watching the yellow street lights alluminate the cockroaches that ran in the sewers at our feet, trash piled against dilapidated buildings. I watched teammates scoop up kids who hadn't showered in months tightly in their arms and spin them around. I watched them sit among the filth and play games, hug, and hold these little ones. And in a moment I will never forget they all faded away and under the flyers for prostitutes, the street smog, and smell of sealant, I SAW JESUS!
He was in each person here, he was in little Gilbert as he rummaged through the trash for a bag to make into a cape and run through the streets like a superhero with. He was in Lia as she spoke life over two young girls who make their living on the streets. He was in Caleb who diligently serves in any way possible. He was in Phil as he spun a child in circles.
It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!
**ALL PHOTOS ARE BY THE TALENTED LUCAS TILLMAN**
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Posted in why race? by Samantha Moor on 1/31/2011
I broke the rules of the world race, and I fell in Love!
They warn you at training camp not to! They tell you to guard yourself, and that every person of the opposite gender is OFF LIMITS for the next 11 months! Honestly, I wish I could have followed that rule!
I believe the rule creates genuine community, but I can't deny that I let someone steal my heart!
It happened so quickly I didn't even realize what was going on until his hand was wrapped around mine and he was looking sweetly up into my eyes. That's right he is shorter than me, a good deal younger, and actually unable to speak yet! His name is Cedric and he is only 6 months old!
Yet, from the second I picked him up and felt his little fingers curl around my pinky I knew God had brought me to love this boy out of oblivion!
We are blessed beyond all reason this month! Partnering with KIMinistries here in Manila has already been one of the most fruitful partnerships of my whole race! In the last few days, we threw a shopping spree for a single teen mom, started devotions with 5 teens girls, participated in a fun run to combat local poverty, a tent village feeding, and volunteered at the orphanage where I met Cedric!
Cedric isn't the only little one that I have fallen for! there are a handful of other "tots" (as we call them) that I steal away daily to play with at the nursery!
My heart is at home.
The ministry here has it's finger print in the entire community and are doing amazing things to spread the LOVE of Christ to everyone!
Please take some time to read about KIM at their website http://www.kidsinternationalministries.org/ and begin to pray today how you can help them help others. Because I can testify first hand they are the real deal! They are being the hands and feet, and the kinds of steward we will be honored to have partnered with when we enter the pearly gates!
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Posted in All About Sam by Samantha Moor on 1/22/2011
"Tell me Dammit!" was the title of a good friend's e-mail to me a few days ago! He had been asking questions about where I was at on the race, what life was really like and how he could get a better picture of how it was, THE RAW REAL RACE!
BEFORE I GO ANY FURTHER THOUGH, I WANT TO SAY A HEARTFELT THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HELPED KEEP ME ON THE RACE! God used you in a mighty way and you have helped change my life and the lives of others by being so generous! I will forever be humbled by how God showed up through each of you!
SO I'LL TELL YOU, DAMMIT!
Today I spent the afternoon with a teammate letting out our creative and artistic sides trying to express through photos what this month had looked like! Normally I would only share these with my squadies and teammates but today I will let you have a look!
I used to spend a lot of my life performing for others, for their love and approval! This month I looked in the mirror and found out that foggy reflection isn't me, it isn't my God given identity. Now, don't get me wrong this Karaoke mic in a local dive we've found will still be used any time I feel I want to belt out some Celine! But I no longer perform to be told who I am, I perform because that is part of who I am!
and sometimes life is about putting on a mask! Part of being myself is being RIDICULOUS and bringing a smile to others! being yourself is GrRRRRReat!
I thought before the race I would leave my heart in Africa, but instead I found it here! I have loved more than I ever thought possible. Instead of my heart having a special place in Africa, Africa will have a special place in my heart!
I am discovering how to be real. From head to toe, heart and soul. I am not trying to fake it anymore. No make up to cover or conceal, just natural beauty to reveal!
I am learning that transparency doesn't mean just saying what ever comes to mind, but being teachable, open, honest, and willing to be exposed in your celebrations or sins! I am running after transparency, and still have miles to go, so that what you'll see is always what you'll get, God's love!
*hope this satisfies all your criteria! Can't say I didn't tell you!
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