My head and heart have been a whirlwind of thoughts and prayers lately. I feel that the opportunity of a lifetime is before me, and I have one hurdle holding me back.
My heart has been so torn in two these past few days especially. I told dad about working at the palms for about nine months; he got quiet. he asked a few questions, which I tried to answer, knowing that nothing I could say would be what he wanted to hear. At the end of it all he simply said, "If you do this, will it get it out of your system?" as if the mission field and the Dominican haven't been in my system since my first trip. I wanted to get defensive, but I held my tongue.
Telling mamaw was even worse. She said I wasn't grown up enough, I wouldn't like it, and I hadn't forgiven my mother. That last one was close to home; I can't shake that one. Then she said the one thing that I knew she felt every time I get close to the idea of not living at home. "You’re just running". Yes, I’ve tried to run before, to Liberty, but it slammed in my face. I knew I was running then, knew it, and wasn't ashamed. But this time, it's different. This is an opened door, not a forced one. And I don't feel like I’m running this time. This time, I know that while I’m not the best choice and that I still have many things to work on, that God wants me.
I went to a video conference the weekend before last. Priscilla Shirer was the speaker. She mentioned a time in her life where her hair started to fall out and the emotional pain and stress it caused her. I could sympathize all too well with how she felt. My fingers on my right hand reached up to stroke my hair, the baby hairs on my crown where they were growing back. I remembered how I would be in the shower or brushing my hair, and those same fingers would run through and come out with a clump that should have been attached to my head. I remember holding back tears as I would try to wash all my fallen hair down the drain, but it was wrapped around my hand, or standing over the trash can everyday cleaning off my brush because of all the strands attached to it. I knew all too personal where Priscilla was going with this topic.
She spoke about coming to the point where it was pointless to save it; she would have to have it all chopped off. She said that she got into her car and began to drive to the salon, thinking only of her hair. She then heard the Holy Spirit speak to her. He said, "Priscilla, if you will give me what you damaged, I know I gave it to you whole and beautiful, but now its damaged beyond repair, if you give that to me, I'll give it back to you abundantly" she went to talk about the peace that overcame her as her hair was cut off, the whole time shaking her mass of long, beautiful, healthy curls that adorned her head. God can surely take what is damaged, restore it, and give it back abundantly. We just have to give it in the first place.
And as I think about that story, I have to think beyond the surface of my hair falling out and growing back, but my life in general. I have always described my life, my family, everything about me as broken. Whenever I set my hand to the plow, the plow will shatter. It was even my word on my pencil for the Mexico mission trip. What would happen if I gave everything broken and damaged in my life to God? How would it look once restore and returned abundantly? Think of the autumn He would have to glorify Him. She would be His. But that's not correct; she is already His. She has already been restored and returned abundantly. I carry God inside me.
I read once that this little girl asked her mom if God was bigger than the little girl. The mom told her that God was of course bigger than the little girl. So the little girl thought and asked her mom if God lived inside of the little girl. The mother replied again that of course God lived inside her; He lives inside all His children. The little girl thought again then asked, "If God is bigger than me, but lives inside of me, shouldn't He spill out of me?"
Of course He should. How else should we live but to have God and Christ spill out of us? To think that He couldn't is to negate His omnipotence, and to think that He wouldn't negate His omniscience.
But I feel like falling further and further away from the topic at hand. Will I go to the Dominican for nine months? Will I be the librarian at lass Palmas? I feel like I’m writing the cliffhanger for a bad comic book cartoon. But it's the truth. I’m standing on the edge of a cliff where falling leads to life as a missionary, but with hurt family on the mountain. Should I hurt them or myself? Because I feel like to stay here would be to condemn myself to my own misery and failure. I could live the adventure I’m been praying for, or I could stay here waking up with no more purpose then not to wreck my car that day. That’s no life to live, and I know that.
The bottom line: why does the one thing that makes this decision difficult comes from the very people who should be supporting and cheering me on the hardest? How bad is it to be backstabbed and tripped up by your cheerleaders? Talk about deadly pom-poms.
It makes me glad that God brought Deuteronomy 31:6 to me; its just want I need to hear from Him: "be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them. For it is the Lord your God that goes with you. He will not leave or forsake you."
Hallelujah and amen.