If I had to be honest, most mornings I absolutely loathe traffic even though I try to not let it bother me. Depending on the day, I’ll either listen to my favorite stations on Pandora, flip through the various talk morning shows to find a quick laugh or if I know its a really long commute I’ll listen to a sermon podcast on my iPod if I think I can get it all in. All while trying to block out the knowledge that my commute is awful. That my 30 miles can be 35 minutes or over an hour, sometimes worse.
Thursday morning started the same, probably even a little worse than normal since my Wednesday was pretty rough. After being proud of myself for getting up and getting ready on time, thinking I got ahead of most of the traffic and would be on the 35 minute route that day, I realized half an hour later when I finally got to 316 (only 10 miles from home) that I was very wrong.
A couple minutes later I found myself on the phone with my dad. I’m not even sure what possessed me to call him other than knowing for sure he’d be up. Usually my ride home from work is when I call my parents. But Thursday morning is when I needed him, even though I didn’t know it at the time.
The conversation was fresh and without distractions. It wasn’t like our afternoon chats where I am coming home with baggage from the work day rushing to my next meeting whether it be small group or something else and trying to fit some time in to connect with him. Or where he is busy shooting the bull with the men outside or running to one of his many responsibilities he has taken on and trying to squeeze me in. We got to just simply talk.
All I had was time to waste in the car and all he was doing was wasting the morning before getting busy with the million things he somehow finds to do. For the first time, I found myself welcoming the traffic for the rest of the commute. Talking about so many different things, some I can’t even remember. But spending the morning talking to my dad was so very special to me. It did my heart good. And meant the world to me.
It really set the tone for the rest of the day. From that conversation I came away knowing how much my dad loved me, supported me, and was proud of me without him really even having to say it. Sure I already knew all this but it served a specific purpose that day. When little things went wrong like my computer once again needing to go to IT the 2nd day in a row, I was reminded of how thankful I was that I called my dad that morning because things didn’t seem so bad anymore. When we had coconut cake for my boss’s birthday I was asked why I didn’t have a piece and if I even like it... My response was along the lines of well yes, my dad liked it and anything my dad liked, I liked growing up. When a co-worker mentioned some pics they saw on Facebook of me in my hunting gear and then asked if I was daddy’s girl, my answer was “Of course, I adore him.” Little moments of him all day. Little moments that may not have been triggered had I not started the day talking to my dad.
It finally hit me a couple hours ago (today) that my time with my heavenly father is very much the same. For soooo long if I even set aside time, I’ve been spending time with Him at the end of the day, sometimes in the middle, if I’m lucky. During my lunch break, after I get home, before I go to bed, etc. Always, always after distractions have entered my day. Rarely do I spend any quality time with my heavenly father in the morning other than listening to some Christian music, praying while in the shower, or listening to those sermons on my drive in, which don’t happen all that often actually. What I crave is the one on one time. The time where it’s just me and Him-just like I crave with my earthly father. I crave the conversations where there are no distractions yet, no baggage from the day yet, where its fresh, where its simple. I crave the constant reminder of Him throughout the day. I crave more days like I had yesterday that started with my dad.
Like I said earlier, I didn’t know it at the time but I needed that 30 minute conversation yesterday morning with my dad. Not only to get me through the day yesterday but to be a catalyst for my mornings from here forward. God definitely used yesterday to show me how much I need to spend time with Him in the mornings, no buts about it. It’s going to take sacrifice and obedience that I currently don’t have but I know that if its something God is asking of me then He will provide the strength and will power to make it happen.
Dad, if you’re reading this, thank you. You mean the world to me and I love you to pieces.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
The Missions Bug
Recently I’ve found myself in a place that just makes me laugh. I laugh because my view on life has been turned upside down. I have become one of those people I thought were crazy. I’ve become one of those people who cannot stop thinking about what is going on outside of my comfortable, safe, and cushy life. I’ve become one of those people who has been infected with the missions bug, as I used to call it.
Sure I may have taken Spanish in high school for the purpose of going on a mission trip to Mexico with my church. But that didn’t happen. And the extent of my missions experience up until a little over a year ago was limited to the week of doing VBS in the projects of New Orleans while I was on a youth choir tour in high school. That was pretty much it and while I loved that mini-missions experience, it definitely wasn’t something I pursued any further while in high school or college.
But missions didn’t escape my life. My 1st and 2nd year of college was a bit difficult. I was on my own without my sister... all because of her call to missions. I remember still how hard it was to not be able to just call her up and talk... although looking back this was probably the most peaceful time for her because I’ve always driven her crazy with my ability to talk her head off for hours each night since I was young. While at Tech, she encouraged me over and over to get involved with Campus Crusade, going on the spring break missions trip or even going on a summer project for the summer months I had off just like she did. But no, I chose the beach or a cruise for spring break and internship after internship during the summer. Relaxation and the chance to further my career or to increase my chances in landing my dream job after graduation was always the priority. And if I had to be honest, it was, for me, a different path than my sister. Following in her footsteps in going to Tech was where I needed to draw the line... And for a while that was where I drew the line, as my life at Tech was much different than hers, good and bad.
But as it turned out, I would yet again follow her footsteps up to Lawrenceville where I moved in with her after graduation when I wasn’t able to land that dream job with a commercial real estate developer. And where I would get involved with her church, her friends, and do things like she did such as choir. In an effort, though, to break out of her world and make my own life here, I started going to Water’s Edge, the college ministry at 12Stone. Yes, you are probably wondering why I joined a college ministry if I just said I graduated... Well more on that in another post because now I am part of the Transitional Community in which I’ve had the chance to help start up.. but yea more on that later!
In June of 2009, after only going to Water’s Edge for roughly a month, I felt a press to apply to go on one of the four mission trips that were going over the Christmas/New Years break. So I anxiously turned in my application not knowing what would come of it. I remember the day very clearly when I read the letter that I got in the mail saying I had been chosen to go to Haiti. Haiti was my first choice but I didn’t know why I even put it as number one, especially since none of that Spanish would come in handy there. But in that moment as I read the letter my eyes filled with tears as I began to realize God had bigger plans for me than I could imagine. And then I started crying more because I was crying. And again more because the tears falling were because of something God had been a part of. (Yea... all that crying... making fun of my mom while I was growing up has definitely come back to bite me...)
You see, for months I had been frustrated by the fact that I would be so full of emotion while watching a movie or TV show that I would come to tears yet when I was at church or when I heard something about God moving there would be no emotion. So my prayer over those months had consistently been from the song Hosanna...
Heal my heart and make it clean
Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like you have loved me
Break my heart for what breaks yours
Everything I am for your kingdoms cause
As I walk from earth into eternity
It was EXACTLY how I felt and what I completely desired. I wanted God to heal my heart from all the damage that been done since I had chosen to put Him in the backseat. I wanted God to make me clean, to wipe away all the dirt I had covered myself with. I wanted Him to open my eyes to things I had never seen in this world that I didn’t know existed. I wanted to learn how to love others just as He had always loved me unconditionally even when I clearly didn’t show Him love or respect. I wanted Him to break my heart and bring emotion that wasn’t because of some stupid movie or TV show but was because of life and what was going on in me, around me, and throughout this world. I wanted everything in me to be used to bring God glory and to make His name known from now until I was no longer on this earth. I wanted all these things but I had no clue whatsoever how or when it would happen.
Looking back now, a year since that first mission trip to Haiti, I know he answered or is at least in the process, really, of still answering those wants and desires I mentioned above. Whether in the months leading up to our trip or the time actually in Haiti or over this last year since the trip, I owe all the beginning of this change in me to God sending me to Haiti. He has begun to truly heal my heart and make me clean because of this new found commitment I have made to Him. He most certainly opened my eyes in Haiti to things I wouldn’t even want others to see pre and post earthquake. He changed my heart to be able to love on the orphans like Daflooz or Ibelson or many of the others I met just like He does. He broke my heart for Haiti and has been breaking it more and more for other things too like sex-trafficking and nations who have never heard Jesus’ name. He is molding my heart and my desires to live a life all for Him.
Missions has changed my life. You might could say this is why I have the missions bug!
(More to come on my new role as missions liaison to the Transitional Community and my next trip to Haiti in April!)
Sure I may have taken Spanish in high school for the purpose of going on a mission trip to Mexico with my church. But that didn’t happen. And the extent of my missions experience up until a little over a year ago was limited to the week of doing VBS in the projects of New Orleans while I was on a youth choir tour in high school. That was pretty much it and while I loved that mini-missions experience, it definitely wasn’t something I pursued any further while in high school or college.
But missions didn’t escape my life. My 1st and 2nd year of college was a bit difficult. I was on my own without my sister... all because of her call to missions. I remember still how hard it was to not be able to just call her up and talk... although looking back this was probably the most peaceful time for her because I’ve always driven her crazy with my ability to talk her head off for hours each night since I was young. While at Tech, she encouraged me over and over to get involved with Campus Crusade, going on the spring break missions trip or even going on a summer project for the summer months I had off just like she did. But no, I chose the beach or a cruise for spring break and internship after internship during the summer. Relaxation and the chance to further my career or to increase my chances in landing my dream job after graduation was always the priority. And if I had to be honest, it was, for me, a different path than my sister. Following in her footsteps in going to Tech was where I needed to draw the line... And for a while that was where I drew the line, as my life at Tech was much different than hers, good and bad.
But as it turned out, I would yet again follow her footsteps up to Lawrenceville where I moved in with her after graduation when I wasn’t able to land that dream job with a commercial real estate developer. And where I would get involved with her church, her friends, and do things like she did such as choir. In an effort, though, to break out of her world and make my own life here, I started going to Water’s Edge, the college ministry at 12Stone. Yes, you are probably wondering why I joined a college ministry if I just said I graduated... Well more on that in another post because now I am part of the Transitional Community in which I’ve had the chance to help start up.. but yea more on that later!
In June of 2009, after only going to Water’s Edge for roughly a month, I felt a press to apply to go on one of the four mission trips that were going over the Christmas/New Years break. So I anxiously turned in my application not knowing what would come of it. I remember the day very clearly when I read the letter that I got in the mail saying I had been chosen to go to Haiti. Haiti was my first choice but I didn’t know why I even put it as number one, especially since none of that Spanish would come in handy there. But in that moment as I read the letter my eyes filled with tears as I began to realize God had bigger plans for me than I could imagine. And then I started crying more because I was crying. And again more because the tears falling were because of something God had been a part of. (Yea... all that crying... making fun of my mom while I was growing up has definitely come back to bite me...)
You see, for months I had been frustrated by the fact that I would be so full of emotion while watching a movie or TV show that I would come to tears yet when I was at church or when I heard something about God moving there would be no emotion. So my prayer over those months had consistently been from the song Hosanna...
Heal my heart and make it clean
Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like you have loved me
Break my heart for what breaks yours
Everything I am for your kingdoms cause
As I walk from earth into eternity
It was EXACTLY how I felt and what I completely desired. I wanted God to heal my heart from all the damage that been done since I had chosen to put Him in the backseat. I wanted God to make me clean, to wipe away all the dirt I had covered myself with. I wanted Him to open my eyes to things I had never seen in this world that I didn’t know existed. I wanted to learn how to love others just as He had always loved me unconditionally even when I clearly didn’t show Him love or respect. I wanted Him to break my heart and bring emotion that wasn’t because of some stupid movie or TV show but was because of life and what was going on in me, around me, and throughout this world. I wanted everything in me to be used to bring God glory and to make His name known from now until I was no longer on this earth. I wanted all these things but I had no clue whatsoever how or when it would happen.
Looking back now, a year since that first mission trip to Haiti, I know he answered or is at least in the process, really, of still answering those wants and desires I mentioned above. Whether in the months leading up to our trip or the time actually in Haiti or over this last year since the trip, I owe all the beginning of this change in me to God sending me to Haiti. He has begun to truly heal my heart and make me clean because of this new found commitment I have made to Him. He most certainly opened my eyes in Haiti to things I wouldn’t even want others to see pre and post earthquake. He changed my heart to be able to love on the orphans like Daflooz or Ibelson or many of the others I met just like He does. He broke my heart for Haiti and has been breaking it more and more for other things too like sex-trafficking and nations who have never heard Jesus’ name. He is molding my heart and my desires to live a life all for Him.
Missions has changed my life. You might could say this is why I have the missions bug!
(More to come on my new role as missions liaison to the Transitional Community and my next trip to Haiti in April!)
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