Wednesday, October 27, 2010
As Simple As That
I went to Heartline yesterday. The ladies learned about cholera. They learned how to keep themselves safe, how to keep their children safe, and how important it is to keep nursing their babies no. matter. what. On a normal day we have to hammer staying hydrated. Most of our women do not drink enough water. Now, with cholera in this country they are afraid of water. It was important for the women to hear truth. We are asking God to help the truth they heard keep them from being fearful, and keep them drinking plenty of clean water so they can continue to nurse their babies or stay healthy during their pregnancy. We sent the women home with hygiene kits. The room smelled good. Maybe it was all that truth in the air. Maybe it was the Irish Spring soap.
Later I helped hang a giant picture of a vagina on the wall in the birthing room. No big deal. I'm sure that's what everyone did yesterday.
Last night we're researching hotels in Haiti. Our kids are about to have a pretty substantial break from school, so we thought we would leave PAP for a few days. Head out. See this country, fully prepared to add three hours onto any estimated travel time.
Looking at one hotel website, I said, "Oooh. This one says they have electricity most of the day. Most of the day. Did you hear that? Let's go there!"
I had to stop and laugh.
My beloved, well-earned nickname in the States. Least likely to ever, ever be a "missionary." Worst pick...like I'd be the last person chosen to be on a team to leave the US. No one would want me. I like makeup and my toenails painted, and you know...stuff like WATER to come out of the faucet every single time I turn it on. gasp.
And yet here I am in Haiti swooning about hotels that offer electricity "most of the day."
My how things change.
Makes me smile a little to think about what your life could look like one year from now. Surely I'm not the only person that God loves this much to write a chapter entitled, "Haiti" into my story.
Anyone feeling like God might be ready to write an exciting chapter into your life?
I'm no expert on change. The idea of it still makes my stomach hurt. Maybe you're on the edge of that cliff and God is saying scary words like...Adopt...Sell the house...Give extravagantly...Forgive...Risk...Change your major...Resign...Apply...Say you're sorry...Get out of debt...Live for something bigger, something eternal.
Sometimes it seems impossible to take the first step. Fear can be paralyzing.
I just finished reading a book called, "Little Bee." One line stood out to me. I read it over and over.
"One phone call. I realized it was as simple as that. People wonder how they are ever going to change their lives, but really it is frighteningly easy."
Not easy as in a breeze. Easy as in we've found that God generously makes up for when our faith is lacking. He honors even the tiniest, shaky-legs, baby steps.
We get asked all the time..."How did you decide to adopt? Did you always want to?" We have to say, "No. We didn't always want to. We were really, really afraid. We had never given much thought to adoption before a few years ago. I was afraid I'd get an ugly baby that had webbed feet. But we made a phone call. We met with our agency. We had to face a lot of sin and faithlessness that an adoption process has a way of tilling up. And then we ended up with a beautiful baby boy. We're not really sure how adoption became a part of our story, but we're glad it is."
We get asked..."How did you move to Haiti? That seems so overwhelming. Did you always want to do mission work? " We have to say, "Uh...no. We liked our lives in the States. If a missionary came to our church to speak, I'd volunteer in the nursery because I thought missionaries were total snoozers with pitiful power point slide shows. We were terrified as we considered the move. We begrudgingly put a for sale sign in our front yard. I didn't even clean the house for it to show. I didn't want it to sell. Four days later it did. To the first person who looked at it. Aaron applied for a job he never thought he'd get. They hired him. A lot of other stuff happened, and now we're in Haiti. We have no idea how God got us here. We just know He did."
A phone call. A "for sale" sign. An online application.
Looking back, as hard as it all was, our part was also frighteningly easy. Maybe how easy it is to take the first step is what makes it so incredibly hard.