Adios.

Exactly one week later and I'm back in the DFW airport.

Only this time I'm not alone.
And this time, my husband and I are heading to Costa Rica.

In a whirlwind of a week of surprises, we pushed back our trip by 5 days so I could be in Missouri to help my mom with her recovery from a broken hip. It was the right decision. And while she's on the road to rehab, we're now on our way out of the country.

I've alluded to this trip before, but haven't exactly talked about why we are going or what we are doing. It's mostly because I'm not entirely sure.

Ever since August, Kel and I have been in a place of wondering if we were where we needed to be. Events out of nowhere sent us on a quest of prayerfully considering if camp was where we were meant to be. And, in the midst of our questions, we received a "cry for help" from a longtime connection I had in Costa Rica from when I had gone in 2010:

Presently I´m teaching the Bible in 4 schools and an additional community without a school every week.  There are 5 more schools asking me to teach,  but I can´t get to more places as well as teach Bible classes to adults some 4 times a week, plus administrate the farm, and the other branches and churches we have around the river.  

It breaks my heart to have people asking me to come share the gospel and in fact I can´t get there.  

The national representative to the foundation of Las Palmas de Mamre suggested that he and I visit some mission conferences to recruit for the school of mission and for another missionary who would be able to adapt to a rugged life, to come take over some of these burdens. My problem is that I can´t be here running things as well as be up there sharing.  

The farm as also been recognized as a model organic farm and I have been sent to several trainings in organic farming as well 4 different projects on a national level.  All of this takes time and I just can´t get to everything.

We'll help.
It was our immediate reaction to the email.
Within weeks we had talked to our supervisors, families, friends, and booked tickets for four weeks to Costa Rica.

When I married Kel, one of his "things" was simple obedience. A desire to be willing to do whatever the Lord asked, whenever He asked it, with whoever needed it.  It's one of the reasons I love him...he pushes me to do what's uncomfortable and what sometimes feels seemingly impossible.

So, if the Lord were calling us to move our entire lives to help our friend in Costa Rica and the ministry that is happening there...? I believe that we would go.

Although sitting in this airport, months after all the initial excitement has waned, and my mom is recovering from hip surgery, and our jobs are filled with things we are truly passionate about, and we're in our last stages of Foster Care training... I can't help but wonder...  is this actually what's next? 

Because I want to go when I'm asked to go. 

But I also want to stay when I need to stay.

So, faithful friends...
We need your prayers.
Prayers that our hearts would be open to the Spirit's leading in our lives. I'm not convinced that there's a "right" or "wrong" decision in any of this, either. I am, however, convinced that we have been made in the image of God and that we have various giftings and passions that can be used for His glory and I want mine to be used to the fullest. So that people would know Him. So that people would follow Him with their whole lives.

Pray that we would be obedient.
Obedient in our day-to-day, as we spend the next 3.5 weeks serving in whatever capacity is asked of us. Obedient with our entire lives, with how we invest in those around us. Pray that we would not allow the lack of comforts or the unfamiliarity of culture and language to dissuade us if going is what is best. But pray that we wouldn't be swept up in the romantic notions that doing something seemingly grand for the Kingdom is better than staying with what we have known. Pray for discernment and wisdom.

I don't know what our days will look like. Traveling? Farm work? Time in the schools or Bible classes?

We will try to keep you posted often, pending our internet situation.

Above all, pray that we would be able to share Jesus with those we encounter and be a true help to those who need it. Pray that we can love well, despite the language barriers (or pray that we can miraculously remember all of our Spanish classes from high school and college). Pray that we (mostly me) wouldn't worry about all the things I cannot control back home, or at work, or with school assignments that are due every Monday... and that we could let go and really be present where we are at.

Thanks for being a community of people, near and far, who support us and love us. We couldn't do this without you.

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Brave

"Who is your hero and why?"

I feel like I had to answer this question a lot growing up--whether it was a school assignment or on an application, it seemed to cross my path often. I never really knew how to answer it. I never really felt like I had a hero. A hero (to me) implied that there was someone that I wanted to be exactly like...but I never really wanted that. At least, not in every way.

I remember putting my mom down as the answer to this question. For a long list of reasons, I felt like she was the person I most wanted to be like--even if not in every way. I have the tendency to see all the ways people are imperfect and why I actually wouldn't want to be like them, even if they have a million incredible qualities. My mom probably got the brunt of this criticism more than most. In fact, she'd be the first to tell you that I was one of the most difficult children (of four) to raise. Believe it or not, I'm stubborn. And opinionated. And strong-willed. And selfish. And direct. But for whatever reason (mostly because it was so long ago and I can't recall why) I wrote my mom into that blank almost every time.

I haven't encountered the "hero" question much lately. But, I have encountered my mom more. And, the more I get to spend time with her, the more I'd be willing to write her name down over and over again to answer this question.

"You can't teach an old dog new tricks."
These are the type of sentiments we tend to believe about the people who are older than us. We're convinced that people are "stuck in their ways" and "unwilling to change".

These are the exact reasons why my mom inspires me. In the last several years, I have watched my mom change. I have watched her open her mind, her heart, her life up to new people, experiences, and challenges. I have watched her love generously, give selflessly, live more uncomfortably, and wrestle with hard things.

When I grow up, I hope I'm as willing to embrace change as much as she has. I hope that I'm willing to admit that I'm wrong. I hope that I'm willing to live my life differently than I have (for maybe even decades) as I wrestle with what is true and good and how that can affect my everyday actions. I hope that I'm willing to learn "new tricks".
__________________________________

I wrote this a few months back, knowing I'd eventually finish it. I didn't imagine, however, finishing it in the DFW airport on my way to Missouri because my mom is in the hospital with a broken hip.

But, here we are. In the midst of the constant reminder that nothing ever goes according to our plans. A simple morning routine, one that you've done every day for years. A routine that leaves you on your back, on the ice, calling for help for an hour in twenty-degree weather. A routine that leads to surgery and a long recovery.

Life is crazy.
And unexpected.
And hard.
And, somehow in spite of all of that, still beautiful.

And my mom, my hero of a mom, fights through it all.
A kid with a heart defect who survives emergency open-heart surgery at 19.
Kid(s) who come close to abandoning their faith or marrying addicts.
The loss of her good friend.
The loss of her parents.
The loss of her first grandchild.
Breast Cancer.
And now this: a broken hip.

She asked us to pray that she would be brave.
I don't know if she realizes that this is exactly who she's been her whole life. Brave enough to be different. Brave enough to be more like Jesus. Brave enough to invite a stranger to live with them. Brave enough to fight through all the sickness, the brokenness, the death and to remember that she has purpose in the life she has left to live.

Brave enough to see the people who are serving her in her incapacitated state as people and desire to know and love them.

I get to see my mom tomorrow.
I get to watch her be brave. To face the pain. To start to recover.

Because my hero of a mom is brave.
Brave and broken.
Brave and willing.
Brave and seeking for her entire life to still reflect the image of God.

Maybe all of us have something to learn from my mom.
Maybe all of us need to be a little more brave.
A little more willing. A little more open to how our brokenness can give us opportunities to be brave.

Brave enough to fight, to speak up, to love, to open our hearts up to the things and people who are different from us. Brave enough to change. Brave enough to be Jesus in the midst of a world that hates Him (John 15:18-21). 

Pray for my mom to continue to be brave.
For her to fight through this physical recovery so that she can have more opportunities to be brave in how she pursues the Lord and loves His people.

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Lots of Doors

"You're opening lots of doors!"

Lately I've been seeing our next steps through a lens of chaos and uncertainty, so the above response was generous to my soul.

So what if we're heading to Costa Rica for four weeks while also working our way through Foster Care training while also trying to do our jobs while also entering my final year of graduate school...

Lots of open doors.
I like that. Maybe I need that. Maybe it helps the crazy feeling feel a little less crazy.

I was frantically getting ready for church yesterday morning because I was, of course, running behind.  I began thinking about Foster Care and what it would look like to have a four-year-old living in our house that we would also have to get ready for church. And while that might be a perfectly normal thing for most 34-year-olds in the world, the thought hurled me into a: what are we doing moment. I don't know how to be a mom.

I decided recently that I need to react more quickly to the urgings that are pressed upon my heart. The times when I think, "I wonder how ___________ is doing-- I really ought to reach out." Or, "I should probably give that homeless man something". Or, "We should invite that couple out for lunch." 

These are the types of thoughts I think often and then, almost as soon as I think them, they are gone. I haven't actually done anything. My good intentions vanish into thin air and I'm immediately consumed by another thought that's, most likely, self-absorbed.

But what if I didn't move on?
What if I paused and sent the text message? What if I stopped the car and found a way to reach out? What if I went out of my way to extend the invite?

It's crazy how quickly I can talk myself out of doing something.
It's crazy how much my own insecurities and fears send me into the spiral of self-focus and how quickly a situation becomes about me instead of the person I was just thinking about.

I get scared that I'll be rejected. Or that I'm too much. Or that I'm not enough. Or that no one really wants (or needs) me. 

Or, that I don't know how to be a mom and have never been a mom and that I'm much too selfish to really handle bringing a child into our home. How much earlier would I have to wake up, anyway? 

They're never good reasons. Even the best-sounding ones aren't actually good. They're just selfish. Fearful of change. Fearful of the unknown. Fearful of my world not revolving around me and what I want, when I want it.

I didn't mean to make a New Year's resolution. I just meant to do something different...to live differently. It just happened to be right around the start of 2019. It's not about being "my best self" or living my "best life". It's just about responding. Responding to the urgings to ask, to call, to text, to show up, to care, to go.  It's about not talking myself out of things, but talking myself into following through with the initial thoughts. It's about kindness and generosity and hospitality and hope. It's about letting go of me.

In some ways, this is like the "summer of yes" for me. Only, instead of saying "YES" to things people are asking me to do, I'm saying YES to (what I think is) the Holy Spirit moving me toward people.  Saying YES to getting over myself, my fears, my worries, my selfishness...and going towards others.


Saying yes to opening up more doors.
Even doors that might lead me to other countries. Or doors that involve us inviting kids in who need a safe place for a little while. Or catching up with someone from a long time ago. Or doors that remind me that God cares deeply for others and He wants me to learn to do the same, regardless of what it might cost me (after all, just look at what it cost Him).

We're opening up doors. Asking God to show us which ones to walk through.
And I'm also resolved to respond to the promptings.
To say yes.

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