I am thrilled to be going back to Haiti on Saturday! Truly. I went for a two-week solo trip last summer and I wasn't ready to come home when my two weeks were up. I immediately started planning for another trip this summer, hoping for a way to finagle more time at Christian Light. I was actually in a bit of a funk after returning last June, and it took some time for me to sort out the ways in which God was trying to teach me that contentment in Him means contentment anywhere He wants me to be. What a bizarre realization that I was struggling with contentment in my own home, with my own family.
Last summer, I had a hard time striking the balance between the children of my heart in Haiti and the two right here in my own home. I knew that God wanted me to love the kids in Haiti in a big way, but never at the expense of the ones He knit together in my womb. Of course I didn't neglect my kids in any clinical way, but the discontent I felt after coming home from those two weeks was not good for me or my family. It took me awhile to see that, but I knew it was an important lesson that I needed to learn.
With Jovenel, June 2013
Fast-forward to this summer. Haiti in general, and the children at Christian Light School and Children's Home (CLSCH) in particular have become so precious to me, so primary in my heart. I wonder how God is calling me there, how He might be calling our family to long-term service (what would that even look like? when? how? seriously? here I am, Lord, send me!). I spent 31 days over three trips last year at CLSCH. I was (a) never once ready to leave and (b) hopelessly envious whenever anyone else I knew was there.
So, when it came time to schedule this trip, I wanted to gobble up as much time as I could. I played around with the dates for awhile, waiting for fares to drop, trying to decipher what would be a reasonable amount to pay against what would be a feasible amount of time to be away from my family. Last year, two weeks felt like short shrift - but somehow three weeks felt like it would just be too long. So, I prayed about it and figured that God would guide me to the right decision. I felt that happen when I told our sons I was having a hard time figuring out how long I should be gone. When the two of them - who rarely agree on anything - both quickly and easily said that I should totally do the three weeks, no brainer, what's for supper, I assumed that God had given me the comfort of allowing them to make the decision for me.
But, now it's almost time to leave. And three weeks is SUCH a long time! I've never been away from my husband or my children that long. My youngest will go to the same camp I attended at his age, but I won't take him or pick him up. I'm in tears now, just typing that. What will I miss that I can't even anticipate? Why does this feel like an unraveling?
And then tonight, as I was repacking overweight suitcases and shifting clean laundry around rather than just putting it away already, it hit me: "God never calls you inside your comfort zone." I heard Tony Evans say that on the radio around 14 years ago and it kinda blew my mind at the time. I've tested it out over and over in the years since, and I've never found it not to be true. It wasn't so long ago that mission work of any kind was wildly outside my comfort zone. Going to Haiti wasn't really even on my radar until about two years ago. But God called me through Jovenel, the child of my heart whom we've sponsored at CLSCH for several years now - how marvelous, how wonderful! And what had once been unimaginable had soon become so dear, so precious, so...comfortable?
Honestly, I throw that Tony Evans quote around all the time in Sunday School, in Bible study, even on Facebook every now and then. Because I know all about it! God has called me out of my comfort zone. Have I told you about Haiti? Would you like to buy a keychain to help fund my trip? Here, let me show you my t-shirt, bracelet, profile pic in case you've somehow missed it. What I had somehow missed was the way in which my comfort had been rezoned to include CLS.
I realized tonight that this three weeks is outside of my comfort zone, even as I journey to one of the places on all the earth that is dearest to my heart. The geography is the same, but the territory is new, because I'm stepping out farther - in time, at least - than I've gone before. It's not exactly walking on water, but it's leaning out of the boat a bit too far for this mama's heart.
I was trying to explain a little of this to my sweet friend Tamara yesterday, trying to express my misgivings without sounding like I wanted to unpack my suitcase. She wisely and lovingly pointed out that genuinely serving God is supposed to be a sacrifice. Both Exodus 23:19 and 34:26 says, "The best of the firstfruits of your ground you shall bring to The Lord your God." Even in what had become my CLSCH comfort zone, I was still making an sacrificial offering God: my time, my heart, the financial resources required to get us there. But if those things are all inside my comfort zone, then can they be counted among my firstfruits?
I always pray that God will use me, that He will grow me, that He will give me words to speak and eyes to see. I've even prayed that axis-tilting prayer: "break my heart for what breaks Yours." But tonight (it's past midnight now, so: this morning) I pray that God will take this ache in my heart and use it to draw me closer to Him, that I will more readily rely on Him instead of my perceived self-sufficiency and that His light will shine in this weathered jar of clay.
I will miss my family. Terribly. But I won't waste this time away from them. I give it to God to do with what He wills, knowing that He will give me manna to sustain me, knowing that my days will be filled with love and laughter and hard work and sweet smiles, knowing that He is enough.
Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior
"Oceans," Hillsong United
