answer for life

The other day I had a moment. Maybe it was frustration or helplessness or sadness but it was a definitely a cry for an answer. Eyes sobbing and anxiety building I did the only thing I thought I could... I prayed out to God. I prayed for His help. His strength. His comfort. I prayed for more faith and more trust. And in those prayers I knew God would give me an answer the next day at church. And He did.

I woke up the morning of church feeling resolve. Almost as if sleep had given me a clean slate. (It hadn't.) Almost as if I fixed my problem myself. (I hadn't.) So when I arrived at church I had nearly forgotten that cry for an answer the night before.  Then my pastor spoke about the impossible. My heart sunk right there and then. I felt exactly what I desired was impossible, that to obtain it would truly be a miracle. So I perked up ears while my pastor continued to talk about Abraham and Sarah and their desire for a baby. God planned to give them a child all along and all they had to do was wait. Wait.

Wait. It's so simple but so extremely difficult. Like Abraham and Sarah I've schemed and manipulated to "fulfill God's plans". But how wrong am I to believe that. Does God really need my help? Of course not. He loves me so much he wants me to just sit back and relax... and wait. My pastor pointed out that impossible is right where we want to be. To believe that our desires are impossible is to believe that God, and only God, can make it happen. And in that feeling of helplessness that our search ends at God.

As Monday progresses I am reassured that I have my answer to my prayer. Since that cry to God I've been reminded over and over to just wait. I was even reminded by a blog post. To say that my God is a true and living God is an understatement somehow. How do you describe someone so real, so attainable, so dynamically involved in my life? Never has my God failed me. And always have I seen Him follow through on his promises to me. Everyday I am more and more convinced that God exists and continues to care for me. So it's a no brainer that as I continue to live my life that God's answer to my prayer to wait is exactly what I need to do.

Wait.

Happy Birthday.

Today marks my mother's 60th birthday.

Like my father's, it was a momentous day. My family came together to celebrate my mom and everything she means to us.  The year flew by quickly, filled with both confusion and clarity.  I found out in March that my mother had colon cancer.  And, while the doctors and everyone assured me it was manageable I felt my body imploding any time anyone mentioned it.  (If you're my friend and I've never mentioned this, it's not because I wish to keep you out of my life, but because I can't seem to comprehend the whole weight of it.) Spring and part of summer flew by as my mom underwent 6 weeks of chemo and radiation, to shrink her cancer before an operation.

In August the time for her surgery came, and it was then I realized I was unable to process what was going on in my mother's life and my life as a result.  I spent nearly every day in the hospital, hoping that I could learn as much as I could from doctors and nurses to help me through this process.  The last two nights of her hospital stay I spent with her.  I ached to see the nurses waking her up; I felt uneasy knowing that this was just the beginning of hospital visits and hospital stays.

Finally, when she came home, a part of me I never knew emerged.  I'd never claim to be a motherly or particularly thoughtful person.  My sisters tend to have this innate way of predicting people's needs, whereas I, probably as the youngest of the family, have a hard time recognizing people's needs.  However, when my mom came home, I felt secure knowing that even though I couldn't control what was happening to her, I could help her in small ways.  The week after my mom returned home from the hospital I had to head to New York for a trip I had planned months before.  I felt weak and tired and still confused about what was going on in my life.  I felt relieved to be away from it all because I could have time and space to process it all, but I felt sad to be away from my mom.

So when I returned home, I stayed with my mom as I much as I could.  I sleep by her side and try to be available when I can.  Balancing life has been difficult.  I believe these past months have been a very growing period, and I've cherished the moments I've spent with my mom.  Now, today her birthday not only marks 60 wonderful years of life but also, hopefully the beginning of a cancer-free life.

Everything most certainly has been confusing for me.  But I do have clarity in a sense that I believe God's been building up my life and my family for this birthday.  I see how I might have gotten married this year and been unable to see my mom.  I count it a blessing to have the time to spend with my mom.  God has been good to me for the past 27 years, and even more faithful to my mom for the past 60 years.  I have no doubt in my mind that whatever happens to my family that we would have lived a very blessed life together.  God has given me 27 years with my parents, and I'm grateful for that.  And although I still travel often, it's different than before.  I still need traveling sometimes to take a break, to clear my mind and to rejuvenate myself, but for the first time, I do have regret to be away from home and family.

But maybe it's that "balance" of confusion/clarity, happy-to-travel-to-take-a-break/sad-to-be-away-from-home that keeps me going.

 

p.s. I cut my hair....more on that later.

Moments

I am moved by the quiet echo of an empty post office.  My own thoughts fill the room like the clamor of a busy restaurant.  I find myself lost in places like this.... returned to the moments that bring me most joy.  Frozen in those moments of sweet bliss and peace.  Trying desperately to hold on to them before I must exit and return to the harsh environment outside of this safe place.  But I must return to the real world.  A world with few storybook endings and too many hopeless people.  I refuse to blend in and accept a mediocre life.  I pursue a life with moments that overwhelm a soul with joy and bring glory to God and blessings to others with every second.  That is a truly perfect life.  With an open heart, I live my life every day.  This life is not my own. Whatever may happen, I crave to always rest in God's perfect, overflowing love, but first I must be broken. "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; A broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise." Psalm 51:17

From brokenness comes healing and joy.

My Heart for Haiti

Anyone remember the earthquake in Port Au Prince, Haiti on January 12, 2010? When natural disasters or personal tragedies occur, I find, even for myself, that the initial concern and desire to help is strong, but over time that heart for people fades as the memory of the disaster fades.  I went to the Dominican Republic and Haiti back in March of 2010.  It was only two months after the earthquake and even then it seemed like people here in the states had forgotten the need in Haiti.

I vividly remember the spiritual and physical needs of the people whom I saw, met and interacted with.  Haiti is a country hungry for the gospel.  There is an opportunity to show God's goodness and remind the people of God's relentless love.  And as I sit here in my comfy bed in my middle class life I realize how easily I can forget the people of Haiti.

I've been on mission trips before.  I've volunteered to help the needy.  I've ministered to those in need.  But never have I been touched so deeply than during my experience in Haiti.  My life changed from a single trip.  My heart continues to ache for Haiti.  There are amazing things to be done, if only I give myself freely for the work of God.

I hope to go back to Haiti February of 2011.  I'll be raising money and support.  Keep an eye out.  Here is the post from Richelle Dante, who I went with on my first trip and will be organizing this upcoming trip in February.

[vimeo http://vimeo.com/10914331 w=720&h=480]

.

My traveling heart...

As I've said many times before, travel warms my heart.

I woke up thursday morning dazed, not realizing I had fallen asleep from the night before. Something felt uneasy. Something wasn't right. I gathered myself to start my day of traveling, when I saw it on my computer.... two words.  It was then that I realized why I felt so uncomfortable. Something was missing. To be quite honest, at the time I didn't know the translation of the words, but remarkably, at the moment those two words still represented so much to me: promises, the future, comfort, hope.

It reminded me of what a dear friend once said, "God loves you, Megan.  He can't wait till its the right time to lavish onto you what he's been saving up all this time.  He's a good Father;"  he spoke with such conviction and truth that his words stuck with me even when I wasn't sure God actually would.  Today those words rang especially true.  God is relentless in his pursuit of my heart.  And I would be a fool to ever forget it.  Nothing is sweeter than the fulfillment of His promises in my life. Somehow travel always coincides with these kinds of faithful realizations.