asking for wudder ice...

Whatt'da ya mean, you've nevah had wudder ice, they asked in disbelief? Wide-eyed and curious, they looked at this California girl as if I was from Mars. Surrounded by roughly 20 pre-teen girls, they laughed and told me I had to go to Rita's for water ice (or, as they say, wudder ice).

The next day on my way to the airport, my gracious hosts learned about my apparent Philadelphia sin--You've never been to Rita's?! At this point I think Rita must be everyone's grandmother because everyone knows her and is offended I haven't visited her.

We pulled into obscure an Philly lot and saw the Rita's banner hanging from the brown, weathered roof. I'm expecting an old woman with a sweet voice who calls me Sugar to come out and hug me. But no, Rita is no where to be found. In fact, I don't think Rita lives there. The windows aren't open and the shades are drawn closed.

With sad, disappointed voices my hosts, Gabrielle and Angelica, inform me Rita's was closed. So I did what any ambitious girl would do. I knocked on the window. Hard. They looked at me in one of the She's-not-from-Philly ways and waited for us to get rejected. A tall, thin but burly guy peeks out of the door with a brisk, We open at noon.

As he was shutting the door I yelled out, I'mFromCaliforniaAndI'veNeverHadRita'sBeforeAndICan'tGoHomeWithoutEverTryingIt! (exhale) There is a slight pause from my tall but burly friend. Hang on, he said.

He returns with not one but THREE Rita's ice waters! Gab and Annie look at me in complete shock. I turned it into a Come-To-Jesus moment and I pepper our experience with, You have not because you ask not! We laughed, but it resonated deep within. Like a pebble tossed into a lake, the words spoken by Jesus reverberated in my mind, You have not because you ask not.*

We sometimes look at 'CLOSED' signs and walk away. But what if we have to fight for it? What if we have to ask to get it? What if the miraculous is answered simply when we ask? So--what are you asking for? What's your small miracle? Maybe we just need to ask...

*James 4:2-3

steps, leaps, decisions, choices...

The pavement beneath my feet burned as I stood on the pool deck. I stared at the reflection of a five-year old and knew I'd never be the leaper. The one who recklessly flung into unknown waters was also the one who could suffer from cold-water shock, water displacement through the nostrils, and brain freeze.

If you're anything like the five-year old me, we were the ones who splashed the pavement we were standing on to cool it off and sit on the deck while we lightly dipped our feet into the pool. Then, after the water was temperate, we'd slowly wade in. Knees, waist, neck, final drop in the water.

I'm not a leaper. But that doesn't mean I don't take steps. People speak about spiritual matters as leaps of faith. And I sure there are those who dive head first into the pool of faith, leaping recklessly without fear. Then there are those who, at the cross-roads of decision making, suffer from analysis paralysis.

Peter was called by God on the Sea of Galilee in a tumultuous storm. Why did the Lord call Peter out of the boat and not the other disciples? There were eleven other disciples in the boat, yet only one asked. Perhaps God is calling you out to take a step in a tumultuous storm. How will you respond? In times of decision making, here's what we can learn from Pete:

1. Ask in prayer. The other disciples didn't ask; therefore, they were not invited by Christ to step out. Don't be afraid to ask. He may not always respond with the answer we hoped for, but He will respond.

2. Seek God's will. What did Peter ask for? He asked for Christ's Word: If it's you... tell me... He sought the Lord first. The goal in taking steps of faith is obedience to the will of our Lord. Faith is not a tool to achieve our own agenda. Peter wasn't making demands or claiming his "right" to walk on water. He was humbly asking for God to show Himself true.

3. Faith waits on the Lord. Peter isn't a leaper. I like him. He's normal. After Pete asked, he waited. Or as I like to say, waded :) The faith that walks on water is faith that waits on God until He answers. Many teachers love this vivid metaphor for believing God for great things. We love to hear about action, the excitement of taking leaps of faith. It's highly empowering, motivating, and inspiring. Yes, I want to take a leap of faith! I want to walk on water! I want to get out of the boat! But Peter didn't get out of the boat until the Lord responded. And, I might add, he didn't leap. He simply took a step.

So, are you sitting in a boat? Have you asked the Lord to call you? Are you at least taking a step? You might not be a leaper... but does it really matter? Just take one step. That's all you need you need to do before walking on water.

incouraging miracles...

As the Christmas trees are taken down and the decorations are put away, I hope Christmas has brought together family, friends, and amazing food. The new year is rapidly approaching and in thinking about what's looming on the horizon, I wanted to seize the opportunity given to me by incourage to talk about miracles. Incourage is a site dedicated to, er, um--well, encourage those who stop by!

I was honored to be asked to write for them again and was allowed to speak about the miraculous. To read the whole piece, you can click here or on the icon below. The comments have been turned off so you can join the conversation there! Thanks for the constant love and support.

I believe in miracles. I know, I know, miracles are a touchy subject for 21^st century intellectuals. But I do.

When we read about God parting the seas, providing food in arid places, and liberties to captives, and we walk out of church roused by history, but unconvinced that the God of yesterday is the God of today.

To read more, click the button:

an open letter to david wenzel...

Dear David,

Today you will receive the results of your long awaited MRI to determine whether or not the tumor inside your brain has shrunk. This day is meaningful on so many levels simply because you have another day to kiss Amy, laugh aloud, create beauty, and love life. Yes, the simple things in life I take for granted.

As you stood in our church sanctuary to share your story last week, I sobbed. Cathartic healing occurred in drops of tears and labored breathing while you spoke Truth to nameless faces who fell in love with you, your story, and your belief that God is truly the author and finisher of our faith. Past the tapered denim, impeccable diction, and fierce determination is a man who has a faith larger than Goliath, a trust greater than Noah's, and a promise larger than Abraham's. You are the lover of God who I aspire to be.

My prayers do not end at noon when the doctors determine your fate. My prayers continue to forge past results, hypothesis, chemotherapy, natural medicine, and homeopathic remedies because I'm calling out to Jehovah Rapha who can heal all, my friend. To Him who can do exceedingly abundantly more than we can ever think or imagine, I lift you up to our God who stands above and claims that He is proud to be your God (Hebrews 11:16).

I believe in miracles,

Bianca

For more on David's battle, check out his blog.

For the vodcast of the talk he gave at my home church, click here and chose a one-time subscription.

100th blog post and providence...

Last night in a small house on Maple Avenue with a broken fan and a faulty air-conditioner, I began our small-group study through the book of Esther. I was so excited to begin this study and more excited that it was tailored for women between the ages of 18-25 because it was roughly the age of Esther when God used her to do the impossible. I wanted to be like Esther and rally the girls to rise for such a time as this and do the impossible with their lives [insert clapping, affirming nods, and vibrant Amen's here].

But I stood in my grey dress and snake-skin heels while the girls fanned their faces and wiped the beads of sweat from their foreheads. No, I was not teaching a fire-n-brimstone message on hell. It just felt like we were in the pit of it. We had ten more verses to get through when I made the decision to just read them all in one breath andputthewordstogetherlikethis just so we could finish. Definitely goes down in the books as one of the worst teachings I've ever taught.

While in bed last night [kicking myself for The Worst Teaching Ever], I began to think about what I learned through the study of Esther. The narrative begins in a pagan city where God's presence is seemingly absent. There is no movement of God, no word from God, no sign from God. But He's there. Just as He was present at 915 Maple Avenue. Would I have liked the miraculous to occur and a cool breath from Yahweh chill our packed room? Would I liked to have chucked my notes out the window and quote Hebrew translations from memory? Would I have like to serve homemade scones instead of Chip's Ahoy cookies? ABSOLUTELY. But God doesn't always work in the miraculous.

Sometimes, the bigger miracles are the ones that occur in the natural realm. Like believing that God's word was planted in hearts and minds and lives were changed. Not because of me, but in spite of me.

On May 8th, 2009 I started this blog. I really didn't know what I would say, what would come of it, or who would read it, but I made a commitment to post one hundred blog entries, then assess if I wanted to continue on. Almost five months later, I've hit the goal and I'm exciting to commit to one hundred more. Why? Because I believe God's word can be planted in hearts and minds through this blog. Not because of me, but in spite of me.

Thanks for joining me on the first one hundred posts!

laboring...

While everyone in American enjoyed Labor day around a pool or barbecue, I labored. No, not at my desk or behind a computer, but by moving a billion boxes out of a friend's apartment and into a new one. I walked into the apartment and was waist-deep in boxes; it was daunting. By the time it was said and done, the day proved that 1. friends who move an entire apartment in less than two hours need to start a moving company, and 2. when things seems daunting, friends who help you handle it are little miracles from God.

A few days ago I heard a bing while I was shuffling papers around on my desk. Bing indicates that my life must stop and immediately drop all important things and run to my computer to check email. It must be Pavlovian's bell because on cue I'm at my screen, begging for a treat or a pat on the head. But as I read this particular email, something struck me as different. It wasn't long, self-absorbed, or needy. It was honest. As I read each word in the email, my heart began to break as I learned of an Australian blog-reader who daily visits the blog, not because she has to but because she wants to. She painfully asked me to pray for her sister who, being a single-mother raising two kids and having been in remission of cancer, was once again told that her cancer returned. The litany of questions were asked: why, how come, why us?

By the time I finished the email, I walked into their life and I was waist-deep in boxes; it was daunting. I didn't want to pass along a cliche scripture or pretend that it was going to be fine. I did the only thing I knew how: pray. I wrote her sister's name on a Post-It note, stuck it on my office window, and prayed for a miracle. We both were praying for a miracle.

I received an email from my new Australian friend and I nearly started crying as I read the first sentences:

I don't know where to start with all this, i am on my way home from the snow with my sister. We got all her results, the cancer is GONE. We still have a road to travel, but i wanted to thank u for being a guiding light, inspiration and helping me to get back to god...

Box by box the apartment was moved. Prayer by prayer faith was restored, lives were changed, and cancer removed. Let us not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we will reap if we do not give up. (Galatians 6:9)

my dress of many colors...

Ecclesiastes 5:15 says Naked we came into the world, naked we shall leave... Uh, thanks Solomon, but what do we wear in between birth and death? God cares about the minutia of our lives and the small desires of our hearts.

I'm not a fashionista nor claim to be one, but I do love nice clothing. The problem lays smack dab in between wanting certain things and having the ability to buy them. I work a part-time job. At a non-profit organization. In East Los Angeles. Trying to pursue what I believe I'm called to do has forced me, like many of us in this economy, to live on a budget. Designer clothing doesn't event make the list of necessities, but living in LA is hard to do without being desirous of the perishable vice (aka shopping).

God cares about the minutia of our lives and the desires of our hearts. Jesus vocalizes not to worry about our clothing because He beautifully clothes the lilies of the field (Matthew 6:28). See, I know that in principle, but sometimes when I look in my closet I realize the practice of this belief is not as strong. If I have to go out with friends or get dressed for church I begin to unconsciously use Lamaze breathing techniques so I don't hyperventilate and cry from trying to work a miracle in my closet.

But a couple days ago I was window shopping on my way to lunch and saw the Dress of Many Colors. There, hanging on a clothing rack with a divine light shining upon it and celestial melodies filling the air, was a colorful Diane Von Furstenberg dress... by itself... in my size. Something possessed me to asked what the clearance price was and I nearly fell over when I heard the price. IT WAS PENNIES compared to the price tag still hung on the sleeve. I don't want to even tell the price because you'll be so jealous you'll throw me and my Dress of Many Colors into a pit then sell me to slave traders.

I walked out of the store and couldn't help but spiritualize the moment because God clothes the lilies of the valley, feeds the birds of the air, and cares about the things that don't even make my list of necessities. God cares about the minutia of our lives and the desires of our hearts. Maybe designer clothing on clearance doesn't tickle your fancy, but what does? Voice it to the Lord... I promise you He cares.