Mission trip part one: The Decision

Since I returned from my mission trip to Honduras at the beginning of September, many people have asked questions about the trip. How did I like it? What was it like? Would I go back? Lots of questions, some people wanting general responses, some wanting details about the experience. So far, all I have been able to answer with are some vague "It was amazing!" responses. I have details, like where we were, how many patients we saw, what the weather was like, etc. But it has taken me this long to be able to piece together what it really meant. To me. To the team. To the beautiful Honduran people that we met, served and served along side. And I'm not sure I'm done processing it all. Maybe I'll work through some more of it as I share it with you.

I have to start at the very beginning with the decision to go. It was really less of a decision to go than it was a definite calling. I have wanted to go on a mission trip for many years, probably as far back as my high school days. Much of the reason that it always appealed to me was that constant desire to do something BIG for God. Being in constant awe of what Jesus Christ has done for me, I have always wanted to do something that I felt would make me worthy. I didn't actually realize that until this very minute. Until I was deciding what words, what truth, to type next.

But in all of these years, I have never gone, never done anything BIG. For a very long time I felt this way. You see, I married very young. I was 18 when I married my high school sweetheart. So the first years were about figuring that out and getting our life settled. Then 5 years later we started our family and life was about raising our two girls.

As the years clicked away, I spent much time thinking about the way I'd love to be serving the Lord. I saw wonderful mission trips that were available, heard exciting speakers, read books about people who were doing BIG things for the Lord. But I had a family to raise, a wonderful husband to care for, a nursing career to continue. I actually spent a period of time a few years ago feeling weepy, because I wasn't able to do BIG things for the Lord. Because I couldn't figure out what I was called to do for Him.

And then one day, He told me. One day, the Lord, in His divine way, showed me that what I was doing was exactly what He was calling me to do. My oldest daughter has struggled with mental health issues since she was young. My youngest daughter has multiple learning disabilities that make life a little more challenging. During this time when I felt like I was not doing much for the Lord, I was heavily investing in the lives of my girls. I was trying desperately to help them realize that their struggles did not define them, that God created them perfectly and loved them without condition. That they could achieve. That they were loved and supported.

And that was my calling. During that time, that was my calling, my ministry, to teach the Gospel to these girls through everything I did daily. And that tomorrow's calling may be different. Not more important, but different.

This is the time in my life when I learned to wake up every morning and say "Okay, God, what do you want me to do today?"

So after years of hearing about mission trips, but never feeling like it was the right fit, never feeling called, one day it was right. One day, I read about a medical mission trip to Honduras in September of 2016 and it felt right. Not because it was paying Jesus back, not because it was a BIG thing to do, but because it was what He wanted me to do.

And that's how I ended up stepping off of a plane into the heat of San Pedro Sula, Honduras on September 2, 2016 to do the thing that God called me to do that day.

Life. Beginning and endings.

Psalm 139:13–16

13 For you created my inmost being;v

you knit me togetherw in my mother’s womb.x

14 I praise youy because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; 

your works are wonderful,z

I know that full well. 

15 My frame was not hidden from you 

when I was madea in the secret place, 

when I was woven togetherb in the depths of the earth.c

16 Your eyes saw my unformed body; 

all the days ordainedd for me were written in your book 

before one of them came to be. 

Life. Beginnings and endings. I've been thinking about these a lot lately. Right now I am sitting at my grandmother's bedside, wondering when she will draw her last breath. It could be the next one. It could be in a few hours. Or tomorrow. But we know it will be soon. And we have been preparing our hearts for this time.

And at the same time that we are preparing for my grandmother's passing, we are preparing for my grandson's arrival to the world. The shower to celebrate his imminent arrival is in a few short days. To say that I am excited about his arrival would be a gross understatement. I have bought really every baby thing there is to be had and planned activities to do with him that will take until he starts college to accomplish. Yeah, it's going to be wonderful.

My husband and I built our family by adoption. Both of our girls came to be ours with the help of a wonderful adoption attorney and two brave and loving birthmothers. I have grown up believing in God and the gospel of Jesus Christ, but it wasn't until my girls came into my life that I had a deeper understanding of the miracle of God's perfect ways. It wasn't a random accident that these beautiful girls are ours. That they didn't end up with other parents. God saw and he knew. As he always does.

And now, as I watch my oldest daughter grow our precious grandson, day by day, marveling with every new milestone ("Hey mom, the book says he grew fingernails this week!") and every fuzzy but completely perfect ultrasound photograph, I am in awe of God once again. Those cells did not randomly come together. My daughter's body knowing how to make a perfect human was not an accident. Those cells are the results of the perfect blueprint that God has for my grandson. For the son of Lauren and Robbie, and no one else. A friend said to me this week that she didn't know how someone could witness the miracle of pregnancy and birth and not believe in God. I completely agree.

I am having similar thoughts sitting beside my grandmother in her final moments. Only more along the lines of how do people who don't believe in God get through these moments? If we thought she wasn't going to a better place? If we thought this was just the end? If we thought there wasn't a Jesus that paid the price for all our sins? If we had no hope? I have such peace in knowing that God is ahead and THE head of all of this. He has this all written out in a beautiful plan and is at the end, victorious. I have peace knowing that she will be rejoined with my grandfather after 71 years of marriage and 3.5 years apart. Every day of her 92 years has a been a thread in God's perfectly woven plan.

I have peace knowing that I am also involved in this perfect plan. I am also a thread. My grandson will be a thread. We are all threads. And I am looking forward to seeing what God has planned for us all.

Welcome to my blog. I have a blog! I. Have. A. Blog. And now my very first blog post. Whew! That's a lot of pressure. Well, at least in my poor brain it is. To be honest, I set this blog up months ago and am just now attempting to do my first post. It is only with strong urging from my oldest daughter, L, that I am even considering hitting the "publish" button.

The first question I asked myself was why should I start a blog? I’m entirely not sure. What I am sure of is that I have been feeling called to return to writing. My writing voice has returned finally. I wasn’t sure what form I wanted this to take, but L encouraged me to start a blog. So here we are. And when I say we, it is with fear in my soul that someone might actually read what I have to say. *GASP* 

I think blogging may be the best way to fulfill the constant nagging voice in my brain that is always saying "Why aren't you writing anymore?" And, at least for now, will serve the purpose of getting me writing again without the pressure of trying to shape it into anything longer. It will also fit nicely with the list of topics that pop into my brain during the week, with half formed paragraphs begging to be typed and completed.

The next question was do I really have anything to say? And more importantly, do I have anything to say that any one else on the planet would want to spend some valuable free time reading? I'm entering the empty nest phase of my life and (wrongly) assumed that it would be slower. It turns out that I am facing some of the most life changing events since my marriage and the adoption of my children! In the next few months I will starting a new venture in my nursing career, go on my first international mission trip, remodel a rental property that my husband and I are purchasing and welcome our very first grandchild in the world. (It's a boy named River and I am smitten already!)

God is working wonders in my life. And, more importantly, through my life.

So I have a story to tell. My story. The story of how my life unfolded into the present. The story of what is going on now in my life. And the story of what God has planned for me next. Because my story is really a small portion of God's story and how he is using me. And this song says what has been on my heart for weeks...

(I tried to highlight the parts that most strongly represented my heart, but it ended up being all of it. Every single sentence. I hope that you take time to look at the video on YouTube.)

This is My Story
By Big Daddy Weave

If I told you my story
You would hear Hope that wouldn't let go
And if I told you my story
You would hear Love that never gave up
And if I told you my story
You would hear Life, but it wasn't mine

If I should speak then let it be
Of the grace that is greater than all my sin
Of when justice was served and where mercy wins
Of the kindness of Jesus that draws me in
Oh to tell you my story is to tell of Him

If I told you my story
You would hear victory over the enemy
And if I told you my story
You would hear freedom that was won for me
And if I told you my story
You would hear Life overcome the grave

If I should speak then let it be
Of the grace that is greater than all my sin
Of when justice was served and where mercy wins
Of the kindness of Jesus that draws me in
Oh to tell you my story is to tell of Him

This is my story, this is my song
Praising my savior all the day long
This is my story, this is my song
Praising my savior all the day long

For the grace that is greater than all my sin
Of when justice was served and where mercy wins
Of the kindness of Jesus that draws me in
Oh to tell you my story is to tell
For the grace that is greater than all my sin
Of when justice was served and where mercy wins
Of the kindness of Jesus that draws me in
Oh to tell you my story is to tell of Him
Oh to tell you my story is to tell of Him

This is my story, this is my song
Praising my savior all the day long