Confession: I have been trying to write this blog for nearly a month, the blog about leaving the Africa Mercy. And, Confession #2: it is still like pulling teeth to write. But it must be done...
It has started; the beginning of the end of this chapter in our lives. We have one week left in West Africa. This nagging reality has begun to creep unbidden into the margins of my thoughts. I cannot change it and I cannot wish it away. If you had told me back in August that four months would go by this quickly I wouldn't have believed you. It sounded so endless back then. And as the months have passed, I have tried to be present, to linger, and to enjoy this time as much as possible. I have bottled up each patient, every experience, and all these new friends in a little nook in my heart that didn't exist before and will now be forever changed. But there our departure date stands - like a brick wall, with the ticking of Time propelling us ever toward it. In a few short days we will be going home.
But to what 'home'...? Certainly we have family and friends that we are excited to see - I wouldn't have you believe that I don't miss them terribly, I do! They are what I am looking forward to returning to most. And bonus, it's the holiday season :) Which means when we arrive everything will be infused with an extra dose of cheer and all those cozy feelings that make this time of year so lovely. If we had to pick a time to return this was it, right? But that still doesn't mean we are returning to a home.
Literally, we have no place to call our own. When we left to join Mercy Ships we had just finished our contracts in Baltimore, so we packed up our apartment and drove across the country to put the rest of our belongings in storage. We also have no jobs waiting for us. As travel nurses we go contract to contract, and we have yet to sign on with our next assignment. So the idea of home has turned into this elusive thing in my mind that doesn't quite exist anymore. And if I'm honest, it makes me nervous not to have a concrete plan in place as this journey comes to a close.
I have done a lot of talking about this with gals onboard over the past couple weeks, and last night at our weekly community meeting one of our fellow crew members even spoke on the idea of Plans. We all have them. We talk about what we're doing today, we think about what we're going to do tomorrow. Some of us even try to foresee the next ten years. The problem is that sometimes we get too caught up worrying about our plans, which not only robs us of the present, but when you boil it down, it is the opposite of trusting God.
In Luke chapter 12 Jesus gives this incredibly simple, yet challenging command: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear..." (v. 22) There is no clause giving potential reasons that worry might be excusable - if I don't have a job, if I don't have a place to live. Do Not Worry. Even when you don't know the plan.
Flash back to my early twenties:
I had a perfect life plan all set in motion. I had the best job, lived in my favorite city, and was dating the person I thought I would marry. All seemed set for years of happiness when I did the biggest face plant of my life. Pride caught up with me and I found myself single and broken hearted (rightfully so). My plans had just been smashed to bits by yours truly. Now what??
After crying myself to sleep for a week, I had this crazy idea.
I need to quit my job and I need to move. Now.
This was the scariest thought, and indeed it didn't feel like my own. It roused a series of backlash questions from the Worrier in me: "Where will you live? What about your current lease? What about your boss, what will she say? And how will you ever find another job like this??"
All of the unknowns loomed large, but the more I prayed the more it became clear that
this is what I must do. So I did.
I resigned and was still given a great reference by my boss,
I found out an old college friend was moving to the area and she took my spot in the house
(and thus my lease),
I had a phone interview and was offered a job near my friends and family,
and one of my dear friends offered to let me live in her spare room for next to nothing.
In short, each and every one of my worries was taken care of.
"Consider the lilies, how they grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will He clothe you?" (v. 27-28)
Flash forward to the year 2012:
I am married to the man I love,
We have lived in cities I never thought I would see,
We have worked in some of the most prestigious hospitals in America,
And we have nearly completed our time onboard the Africa Mercy, an organization I have wanted to work with for over five years. The story of how we got here alone is testimony of God's provision
We have been able to touch the lives of patients we would never have encountered, and
we have worked with some of the most amazing people, people we would never have met had I stayed where I was comfortable. I could never have foreseen all of the beautiful ways God would use me or stretch me, and none of it would have happened had my 'plans' worked out.
So even though I have been known to worry about a thing or two and I am liable to do it again at some point, I choose to trust the One who has brought me this far. Because really, if He has promised to take care of my needs and has proven to take care of them time and time again,
won't He continue to pave the way?
