SHH DON'T TELL ME!

Do any of you have that one person you watch movies with and no matter how twisted and unpredictable the movie is they ALWAYS seem to know the ending or what will happen next? For me it is my sister Talitha, it doesn't matter the movie, she always knows what is going to happen, ALWAYS.

Sometimes she slips and and spills the beans-- which most of the time just ends in laughter because the rest of us oblivious people never saw that ending or scenario ever happening. I would like to say she has a gift, maybe a 'movie prophetess'. And I am willing to bet a chickfila sandwich (that I don't have, I am in Peru, YOU the one reading this are in the land of chickfila which lovingly call the United States now) that Taitha is sitting there shaking her head saying "I don't mean to know it just happens!" Secretly you love your gift Talitha, and we love you for it (que peanut gallery in agreement of head nods and enthusiastic yea's).

Well my life is not a movie, nor do I know the ending. But this Saturday the church we are working with is having an international conference with seven different countries represented-- from Spain, Argentina, United Sates, Mexico, and so on. The whole church has been in preparation for this conference since we started working with them over three months ago. Now I am not sitting here calling my self a prophet, but I have total faith and expectation from the Holy spirit that these next ten days are going to ignite a fire that permeates the city with the reality of Jesus. I am having faith that prostitutes, drug addicts, gang members, beggars on the street, to the richest of the rich in Lima are going to have an encounter with God that will leave them desperate for another taste.

(this is a picture of as I loving the call them "the yellow buildings" in centero de lima where we will have one of our outreaches, which funny enough I had a vision of healings and revival happening there last February before I had ever even seen them! God's a funny one)

I will be sure to keep you guys updated on the conferences happenings, just hearing small things they have planned puts an excitement in my bones I can hardly contain. I will give you a small sneak peak at some of the plans. One of the last days of the conference they plan on taking several groups of artists and play everything from worship to salsa music, and have dancing all through out the streets of the center de Lima-- which is one of the most poor, and ghetto parts of Lima, so to the say the least I am rather excited. Please be praying for hearts to be prepared and a revival to break out that will for ever change this country!

Let the dead come to life, let the blind see the let, every broken heart be made whole.

THERES GONNA BE AN AWAKENING!

-Daniel Bastha.

And PLEASE be praying for my Mom, please.

Doesn't matter how old you are-- at least I don't think.

I am sick.. again.. and let me be the one to tell you I am sick of it. How you can be sick of being sick is beyond my half awake brain right now. Since I have been in Peru I have had three shots (they were supposed to be in my butt, but ended up being in the middle of my back, how they missed that... ha well they might need glasses to say the least) and two lovely IVs. On top of that I might never drink gatorade ever again. The yellow one is still my least favorite I can't seem to get over the fact that it looks like I am drinking pee, and tastes like cleaning supplies with sugar mixed in. The red of blue are my favorite, but of course those are the only two I am NOT allowed to have. Not fair.

Another beautiful thing about being sick in another country is I have no earthly idea what the doctor is saying. I could assume for the most part this time, but the medical terms... I might just never even touch that. One thing I have decided while being sick... for my fourth time in Peru(side note I should be a pro at this by now, and second side note, I hardly never get sick in the States I promise) is that no matter how old you are you still want your mom when you are sick. I mean, maybe it goes away at some point. I thought it would have by now, I mean come on now I am living in a country thousands of miles away for the second time in a year. Yet I laid in bed today going 'what I would give for my mom to scratch my back and tell me about some crazy spiritual book that she read in an hour that would take the average person a month read, and six months to understand to the slightest of what the book was communicating to the reader.' Any of you who know my amazing mom should laugh at that. She goes through books like the average person goes through under wear. Sadly I did not inherit that gift, I take after my father-- give me the 5 minutes cliff note version, and preferably never make me read anything over six paragraphs.

All this to say, it is amazing how much our mothers communicate love and comfort in our lives in a way that no one else can really fulfill. Every person in Peru could scratch my back, and it would still not have the quick side to side scratching comfort that my mom's does. And honestly I am not sure if I could handle that much of a spiritual deep of a conversation in Spanish, I can barely understand in english sometimes.

Do any of you still feel that way about your moms?

Do you still have those break down moments where you just cry and say "I just want my mom."

Maybe it is still very childish of me, I am still getting used to this whole adult thing. So it could very well be I am behind track. Who knows, maybe you do?

Well, the doctor is supposed to be here soon, and hopefully I won't turn into a human pin cushion AGAIN, and the pee colored gatorade will soon cease, please Jesus. They might even let me upgrade to soda crackers and blue gatorade. A girl can wish can't she?

Did you feel that?

You know when you sit in a funny position for too long and your leg starts tingling up and down, and it takes a good few minutes of throwing it around in awkward, yet creative ways attempting to allow blood circulation to flow. Not one of my favorite feelings, happens on a good weekly basis to me, hopefully less for you.

Sometimes I feel like that happens with my spirit-- I sit in a place for to long and the circulation gets cut off and heart becomes numb to my surroundings. If that is in my home town Atlanta Georgia, Mozambique Africa, or my current city Lima Peru. When I first went to Mozambique my heart was broken for poverty, I couldn't even understand how people had no food, shoes, never the less clean water to drink or had ever seen or knew what a toilet or what a shower was. Things that made up my every day life with out even thinking twice about having them. A society and culture that if you did not have a car, or an iphone you felt like you were lacking. After three months in Mozambique I never became numb, but it did became ordinary for me. I did not think twice about seeing a person with a mangled body from being tortured in their war with Portugal, or children who were starving, with bloated bellies. My heart broke, but over time the reality became less and less real, and it just seemed like a normal life style I was protected from.

Upon returning to the states I was stunned by the life I was accustomed to living. Some people say culture shock is hard, for me it was reverse culture shock. It blew me away the little things I took advantage of, things I thought were 'necessities'. Even something as simple as running water. After three months of hardly any showers that lasted 30 seconds if you were lucky,with just bottled drinking water; running water became like liquid gold to me. Even now I see the water running too long and my stomach cringes- but before Mozambique I would have never considered that.

So now here I am, in Lima Peru. Back in a third world nation were poverty seems to be normal. When I first came here I could barely handle walking down the street and seeing 6 year olds selling candy at 1 am in the cold. Looking at their sweet faces I could tangibly feel my heart being ripped out. Now five months later I walk by with a small passing look of sympathy, maybe a smile or a hug saying "No gracias mammita, lo siento" and walk by forgetting the face almost instantly. I see person after person that is poor and unnoticed, and sometimes I notice, sometimes I don't. I came home yesterday and was disgusted at myself. I have come to this country as a 'missionary' to love even the least of these. Yet there are broken people every few steps begging for love, and for hope and I walk by them head held high with out any gesture of love, with out a glimpse of the one my life was made to mimic, Jesus.

I love working with the youth here, there is a fire, there is a passion, there is a desire for hope. But how can I go to the youth and encourage them to live a life that exemplifies Jesus. When I have supposedly given up mine for that cause, yet I am walking by immune to the reality of their needs. I guess this is the reality of missions not many people tell you about, its something that I don't even understand. But one thing I know if is I never want my eyes to become immune to hopelessness, I never want to turn away the least of these. I want my every action, even the smallest ones to actually give some resemblance of Christ. I left my home to show others love, not just in a church, but the forgotten, beaten, and unloved.

So now? Now just like you have to move your leg around to allow circulation to flow again, I will do the same with my spirit and heart. Its time to feel His heart, to feel the desperation of love, for the ones often seen as unlovely-- but what is amazing, those are the ones who carry a beauty that can't be found anywhere else. They carry a pure desire, a zeal, and desperation for God. Not a fake shallow relationship like the ones who only enter a church on Christmas eve. They are the ones who are teaching me what love is. So heart, wake up, your time of being numb is over.

'Break my heart for break yours, everything I am your Kingdom's cause... '

Loving through His love,

-Naomi

Comfortable

How many of you guys have ever slept on a sleep number bed? You lay on it and can make the bed as soft or hard as your hearts desires. Or even those foam beds, where the girls jump on the bed with a glass of wine right next to them. Well I have once, it was a glorious experience a major step up from my thin mattress here in Lima. I would say it was a pretty comfortable experience to say the least, nor would I mind doing it again. Think about it though, in South Africa and Spain, not the best beds, in Mozambique we had grass mats or bunk beds with 3 inch mattresses, but with every country I go to I always look forward to getting back in my still not the greatest bed in the states... it is comfortable.

com·fort (kmfrt)

tr.v. com·fort·ed, com·fort·ing, com·forts

1. To soothe in time of affliction or distress.

2. To ease physically; relieve.

n.

1. A condition or feeling of pleasurable ease, well-being, and contentment.

Now this might push a good amount of peoples buttons, but compared to most of the world the states has a very comfortable lifestyle. You are freely allowed to pursue any religion, to wake up and do for the most part what ever you please-- we are raised from a young age to pursue this thing called an 'american dream'. Sadly I have seen that a lot of times that american dream/comfortability follows us into our relationship with God. The "Western" church often preaches on how God is love, grace and mercy, He wants to give you the desires of your heart, He wants you to heal the whole world, and take it for Him. Which, to an extent of that is true... but when did a relationship with God become about us? I so often seen amazing scriptures twisted to make us feel as good about us as possible. And though God is a God of grace, He is also just, and jealous for us.

So here is what I think, which disclaimer I in no way am trying to belittle or rip any one apart, I am just merely expressing what I feel the Lord has told me, if you have a different opinion or questions feel free to email me (naomijunefowler@gmail.com). In the States we are taught to look out for us, to make sure we are doing what we want to do, and always staying comfortable. Even with relationships-- we teach kids to start dating what at 12 or 13 until they no longer are interested in that person, or no longer want to work out problems. As my Dad calls it "divorce training" you teach them stay in a relationship until you are uncomfortable and find someone who makes you comfortable, and the process continues in a nasty cycle, which then creates a pattern.

So do we do the same thing with God is my question for you? We for the most part ignore Him until we are uncomfortable, then we run into His arms wanting to be comforted. We want His plans for our life, but with our terms, our schedule, with sprinkles and a cherry on top. If that is honestly how you view God maybe you should not be a Christ-follower. Giving your life to God is not easy, but a lot of times we assume it is why? Because a lot of times we don't always surrender our lives to God, we say alright... lets make a deal big guy, I will give you how much I tithe a month and Sunday and Wednesday nights, but I will not move here here or here, nor will I have this job, nor will I talk to strangers ever. God is not a magic 8 ball that we can shake when ever we want to feel good-- but I feel a lot of the times we are taught to view Him that way. God is looking for a bride, not a damsel in distress.

Alight, well now that I am sure I have ten of fifteen people who might never read my blog again here are so scriptures that you should look at and actually consider what that means or looks like.

"Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Mathew 7:21

Then Jesus called the people to him. His followers were also there. Then Jesus said, "If any person wants to follow me, he must say 'No' to the things he wants. That person must accept the cross (suffering) that is given to him, and he must follow me. (ERV Mt. 8:34

If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. Luke 9:23

For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that He might be Lord both of the dead and of the living. Romans 14:8-9

“Then He said to them all, ‘If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me’” (Luke 9:23).

If we endure hardship, we will reign with him. If we deny him, he will deny us. 2 Timothy 2:12

Alright, so that is just a few, there are many more. Now I am in no way trying to sit here saying God is out to get you and test you in every way. But in talks so many time about refining gold, well the way you refine gold is melting it over and over until the impurities come to the surface so they can be removed. God wants all of you, but are you willing to give Him control over EVERYTHING in your life, even that one area that you want control over, your job, where you live, who you marry, how many kids, etc. You know what it is, I know what mine is with out having to think about it. So what holding you back? There is NO fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. 1 John 4:18.

Step away from the world today, look at where you are holding onto the world and not clinging to Him. Where are the places in your life He desperately wants? Not to make a picture perfect American dream, but to fulfill the destiny God has for you, which I promise you its better than any white house and picket fence, with a husband, three kids and a dog. And it will be hard, there are days where I wake up and I don't want to be a missionary, I don't want to smile, I don't want to hear peoples problems, but when I get over myself and focus on the one it is all about there is joy.

So that is all for today, I know that might have been a lot to take in. Its a lot to take in for me as well, its a reality check that I know I needed. Let me know if you have any questions.

Loving through His love,

-Naomi-June

My life, in a rather large nutshell.

So I as I sit here under two blankets in Lima, Peru I thought, how do you even start a blog? What is the point of a blog? And will this actually benefit anyone? Well, I am still not entirely sure how to start it, nor the point, nor if it will benefit anyone. But I do know this-- in five years I will probably have forgotten many of the highlights and details of living here, what God was teaching me, and so on. As you can probably already see I am not much of one for writing, but if I convince myself just one person might read this and be encouraged it will be worth it.

In my twenty years of life I have seen some interesting things, some not my favorite, some the most beautiful things I could imagine. Yet all of them have worked together and grown me into who I am today-- funny when you think about how that works. A little over twenty years ago when my mom found out she was having yet another child, her ninth to be exact, she was in a horrible car accident. She woke up in the hospital and heard God say "Lucy you are having another child" her first thought after that was "wait am I still even alive?" not the most ideal way to find out you are preggo. Through out the time there were many complications and because of those and her age the doctors were not a fan of her having another child. But she knew if God gave her a child He wants it here and I am not going to abort me. So September 16th, 1990 there I was, the ninth Fowler child, Naomi-June Victoria. Naomi after my dad's mom, June after my moms' and Victoria because my mom always said I had a victorious birth, satan wanted me dead, but God won!

A huge part of being part of a family with ten kids, where everyone is out going and you have amazing parents is-- everyone knows you, about you, about your family, the whole nine yards. Since my Dad perviously was a pastor, and my mom is the most Christ-like person I have ever met you quickly learn how to walk the walk and talk the talk of Christianity, they lead by example. Which for me resulted in a very shallow relationship with God(which was in no way my parents fault) and just depending on my families name, and my parents amazing walk with God. I learned to what was supposed to be said, and just go through the motions. When I was 14 I went to a summer camp with a church my family used to attend with one of my best friends at the time-- there was a guy who made it very clear he was very attracted to me. One of the nights the pastor told us to go take our bibles and read on the beach for a little while. I decided to walk probably a good half a mile away and the boy ended up following me (with out me realizing of course) one thing lead to another and I ended up being raped. A lot of stuff happened after that and I hurt more than I know I could, physically, emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. After that I got in several relationships with guys behind my parents back they were in no way healthy. Got my heart broken, and hardened.

At the time I was attending a private high school that had some very strict beliefs on what was acceptable as a christian and what was not. I sadly was no were near what they expect a christian woman to be like, and was pulled aside and was told I had a spirit of disunity, and impurity-- and that no one should ever look at me as a leader or example. Those words burned more than I knew they could, if sticks and stones can break your bones, those words came close to doing the same. After that for about two years I felt worthless in every way-- I had no idea who Jesus was or why He wanted me.. I was impure, a horrible example and would never be able to change anyones life never less my own.

During that time we were going to a church called the Vineyard and because of a few things my parents prayed and felt called to go to Riverstone. My first experience with the church was their summer camp, and let me tell you I was 16 and not happy my parents were forcing me to go to a church summer camp that I had never even attended-- even more so with my past experience with Summer camps. After going I did encounter God and did enjoy the camp but still everything in me hated it to be honest. The following February they had a missions conference and a woman shared her testimony about being molested and afterwards she prayed for me and just said "You are pure." over and over again, I just broke, never in my life had I thought I was pure. Part of me wanted to believe it and part of me wanted to run away and never turn around. I was hurt, and was so focused on my pain I forgot who the healer was, the one that took the pain away, Jesus, had become a complete stranger to me. I continued going and my parents pretty much pushed me out the door and made me go to youth every week. The week before my 18th birthday my parents told me if I wanted after I was 18 I could attend any church of my choice-- I went to the September Facedown and saw vision for the whole church. I pulled together as much courage and told Tom the Sr. Pastor, he then asked me to share it with the whole church. Shaking in my boots I went up and shared it. After that all of the sudden something clicked in me, my mom will tell you it was like a light switch that had been off was turned on. With in a week I talked to Cory and got involved with the youth and started assisted with leading a 10th grade girls bible study, ironically enough on purity. Which looking back on it now makes me chuckle, not only was I leading youth which I thought would never be an option for me, I was teaching them what living a life of purity was.

God taught me a lot through that bible study and through those girls, what pursuing Him and being pursued by Him looked like. What walking in freedom and learning your identity was. Mainly I found out who He was, and who I could be through Him. It was like a fire that had been pent up in my bones was released and rapidly took over my body. Through that I started finding my passion for healing, not only just the heart and seeing people set free and step into intimacy in with God, but physical healing as well. As strange as it still seemed to me it became natural-- like I had been doing it for ever. Later I found out Riverstone did a youth internship over the summer and allowed a certain number of college age students to be discipled. I applied and had no idea I was in for a life changing summer. Through the summer I got to learn even more of what a surrendered life looked like, a life that screamed love, and reflected Jesus.

As the summer went on I was very torn as what to do in the fall, Bethel, IHOP, or YWAM, little did I know it would not be any of them. Through a good friend I heard about Hiedi Bakers school in Mozambique Africa. Let me tell you I never felt called to missions, nor Africa-- the thought of living in a 3rd world country made me nauseated. But for some reason I felt this pull, and let me tell you I did not like it. I decided to pray about it and apply and honestly in no way did I think I would be accepted, I mean come on this was Hiedi Baker how many radical passionate christians were probably apply as well? That were probably older and a lot more grounded. After applying I had probably some of the craziest confirmation-- to the point I had complete strangers at Wal-mart ask me if I had heard of Hiedi and if I was going to her school. A week after I apply I got an acceptance letter. After that is seemed like instantly things fell into place in a way that if I told you, you would probably ask if I was lying.

On October 8th almost a year from today I was on a plane flying across the country for three months, and let me tell you I had NO idea what I was getting myself into. I would love to say I instantly fell in love with Africa, but I would be lying. I was broken when I saw a level of poverty that even those commercials trying to get you to sponsor kids didn't even touch. Part of me hated the United states how naive we were to poverty and what desperation really was, and part of me wanted to run back to my comfortable life. After being there for two weeks almost to the day I got attacked my a local Mozambique, he grabbed my neck and by the grace of God I got away but ended up majorly hurting my ankle, I had pulled muscles, pinched nerves and broken a bone in my foot. The doctor put me on bed rest for at least a week and I was not allowed to do anything. Now for any one you who know me, I am not a big fan on receiving or asking for help-- but let me tell you what God did to me while I was laying on that grass mat for a week wrecked me. I discovered how much bitterness I had towards men, and how much I just expected them all to screw me over, leave me hurt, and not protect me. Well obviously God was much of a fan of those lies.

Through out my stay in Mozambique I saw things sometimes I have a hard time understanding were real. One of my favorite was a little boy who was blind in one eye and cataracts in the other eye. It was our ten day bush outreach and God was showing me His heart of healing and why He does it-- its ALL for love. The last night of the bush outreach I met this boy, I just stared at him broken, just simply asking for him to know Gods love, because thats all I wanted. I didn't care if his body was healed to be honest, I wanted that boy to know the most amazing love ever. All of the sudden before my eyes I see his blind eye that was completely white turn to a dark brown and his face in complete shock. He ran off, and I quickly went to inform my team of what happened. It was like everyone was recharged and we saw more healings that night than the whole ten day out reach. The little boy came back at the end and hugged me and as I pulled away his other eye was completely healed, he looked up at me my face being the first one he saw with two eyes and just told me I was beautiful. I gave him a kissed on the forehead as I just began crying, there was no way to deny we both encountered the love of God that night.

On December 31rst, 2009 I returned to the states, but looking at everything so differently. It was if I just like that boy had been blind and my eyes were open to things I don't now I ignored before. Upon returned I knew God had called me to Lima, Peru for a season and after getting over the reverse culture shock of the States and learning again just how to function in a normal american life. Now I am here, sitting on a bed again in another 3rd world country. I have been here for over three months.

My life hasn't always been perfect, I have gone through struggles but I have seen some of the most beautiful things. I still wonder how God uses me, even through typing this I try and figure out how God took the ashes and turned them into beauty, how He taught me what love and trusting looked like. October 4th, 2010 I know that I am about to experience the Holy spirit ignite a revival that is going to take Peru. I look at these high school students and I am in awe, this is happening... His love, this is true reality. So thats my story, well, the cliff not version anyways. I wish I could put everything, more testimonies of healings, more struggles, more victories, I am sure I will have plenty more to write about in my time in Lima. I hoped this blessed someone, if not that is okay too. If you have any questions let me know! And please don't just assume because I am a full time missionary I don't have enough time, you are worth it and I will make the time!

Loving through His love,

-Naomi-June