I sure did get told by my momma! "You're supposed to be blogging for your World Race and I haven't read any updates since April…"
Really? So I checked today, and guess what: mama was right!
I suppose she has a pre-emptive point, and I had a very weak argument that technically I'm not on the journey yet — but that too is not quite the case, either.
So this is going to be a long entry and you're forewarned.
What I'm about to write is my story up until now about how exactly I was called to the mission field, specifically the World Race for September 2012 Route 1. I think I've shared bits and pieces with a myriad of people, but never just taken the time to string enough words together in sequence to tell my story.
I won't write about the conflict, betrayal, disappointment or strife in an attempt to villify anyone. There are people near and dear to me, who for lack of understanding my faith or for losing a grip on their own faith, that have hurt me deeply. But I love those people, and more importantly Jesus loves them more than I ever could.
To blame anyone for what I suffered would only rob God of all the glory of the triumph, purpose and sovereign guidance in my life that lead me to my calling.
I'd like to preface that I was not in search of a missions trip, nor did Google (or any other search engine, for that matter) play a role in my finding my way to the World Race, nor any real practical means. In my case, God called and I answered.
The last two days of 2011 were soul-crushing for me. My world literally collapsed in a series of events one after another that nearly robbed me of hope, broke my heart and crushed my spirit. But the grace of God through the benevolence of the church caught me from falling into a pit of despair, leaving me hanging onto the cross for dear life and any semblance of sanity. Suddenly, my faith got real exponentially.
Happy new year it was not, as I rang in 2012 in the safety of my good friend & sister in the Lord's loving home, curled up on a futon crying myself to sleep with only one question on my mind: why?
It's funny how I got there. I just walked in the front door Saturday evening and heard Myrna's vacuum roaring upstairs. I was humbled and trying to break the nervous tension I felt being relegated by my circumstances to become a couch-surfer. Not knowing what to do and not wanting my shaking legs to buckle under me for shame, I set down my overnight bag, and violin case. I pulled out my violin, and to indicate that her guest had arrived, I started to play Amazing Grace at the bottom of the stairs.
Myrna came right down with a huge warm smile and looking up at her, I feigned my best street urchin British accent, "Pardon me, miss, would you happen to have room and board for a violin-playing missionary?"
And then I burst into tears. In that moment, Myrna's welcome hug were the arms of Jesus holding me with great mercy & comfort.
Here I was with $19 to my name, jobless, kicked out of my home, had my heart broken just a few hours earlier. I went from a state of hopeful and joyful despite my circumstances, to using all my strength to not let my life go to pieces. But that's exactly what God did for me; He broke me into pieces.
Prayer warriors rallied up, I found refuge and rest in an amazing Godly home where the children laughed, showered me with hugs and where their mama always gave me the Word straight. (Because I do need a little kick in the booty, and she's the type to lovingly give it to me.) I love you, Myrnie!
And come Sunday, January 1st, there was big brother Tosh who came alongside with no questions asked and no awkward inquiries or unsolicited advice — to help me remove my belongings from where I used to call home just 24 hours earlier. Even in that, I had peace, and there was unity in the faith. I was able to bless another sister with giving away my brand new bed frame, mattress, plus bedding, and so many others with things I just couldn't keep or take. I had no idea where I was going, or for how long, I just knew then and there, my stuff — was just stuff. But I could bless others by freely giving it away.
So I did. And I spent January 1st serving others and that, looking back now, was the formula for not falling into depression. Have a good friend alongside you in times of great trial, seek the LORD and don't focus on yourself — but bless others.
I cannot thank the saints enough for their prayers, support and comfort. So amazingly did I witness and experience the body come together and become the portrait of God's face in my life: God the Protector, God the Provider, God the Healer, God the Comforter, God the Lifter of My Head, God my Shelter, God my Joy in the Midst of Great Sorrow & Tears, God the One Who Feeds the Sparrows and Feeds Me Too. (Thank you sister Christina, for being the feeding hand of Jesus in a miraculous way!)
I will sit down and make a list by name thanking each individual through whom God blessed me and carry this with me on the mission field.
(There are so many more of you, but don't be dismayed to not read your name this time — know that you blessed me and God knows this too. I love you!)
All that to say, for good reason, I spent a great deal of time crying out to the Lord, pouring out my heart and the very depths of my soul, raising my voice to Him in song and praise, seeking Him in the Word, asking for much prayer and spending many hours sitting quietly in hopes of hearing His voice.
Day after day passed, and many days are still a blur to me. But every day, I woke up, I sought His face, cleaned myself up and found ways to serve others and find comfort in prayer. I didn't stop going to church or stop reading my bible or stop fellowshipping or stop praying or living out a life of faith just because I didn't understand what God was doing in my life and that it was severely painful for me.
[Edited to add: God is good. And I know that God loves me!]
In the month of January, I kept asking the Lord to show me why I was in shambles and the answer came — but slowly. I was literally only taking one day at a time.
First off, God let me know, that I was a woman who needed to get over herself. I needed to be humbled and not feel ashamed of being cared for or helped in time of need. I needed to learn to ask for help and allow myself to be assisted.
Secondly, God showed me that the things it hurt for Him to take away from me, were the very things I'd never willingly walk away from even if God called me to something greater. In His great love & mercy, God had to take things away from me, that were good, but were not the best. God gives His best to those who love Him.
Thirdly, here's where it gets interesting (if you've read this far.) I began to have dreams of running across all sorts of landscapes and seeing multitudes of people from all different nations. I began to see people being healed in the dreams, and hungry people eating, and demons being cast out. I began to dream of miracles and wonderous works that demonstrated God's glorious power and love for all people.
One morning, as I went to my lakeside spot to sit quietly in prayer, I asked the Lord to give me a revelation, a moment of clarity to understand why I was uprooted from all security in my life and what did the dreams mean? And it went something like this:
God: I thought you'd asked me before to send you…do you remember?
me: Send me where? Did I really pray for that?
God: Until the whole world hears…remember? I've uprooted you so I can send you. What's holding you back …
me: what's holding me back…nothing, now. I have nothing. I have no roots. I just don't understand…how can I go out into the world, that sounds like the adventure of a lifetime. That sounds too wonderful and amazing and…do you really want to send me? Do you really want to send me?
God: I am sending you.
I remember opening my eyes and my heart suddenly felt resuscitated. I felt a fresh wind blow over me and a fire re-ignited in my soul.
In my typical fashion, I posted a Facebook update! haha… I posted that I was dreaming all those things. Within seconds, my brother Jonathan Page linked up the World Race, and the suggestion to apply.
I thought to myself, at first, I'd be too old. And when I clicked the link, I saw that I was within the age limit. And then I remembered that there was a young lady from my church who was currently on the World Race. In all honesty, aside from knowing that Rikki Lynn was on the World Race and she was a missionary we prayed for, I knew nothing else nor had it ever crossed my mind.
Hand to heaven truth, I read Rikki's blog that day and her post was titled "Dear Future World Racer…" (Please keep Rikki Lynn Vick in your prayers as she pushes through the last leg of her route on the World Race and comes home to us in the next months!)
Next, I decided to pray and called to find out more information. If it was from God, surely, He'd make the way. So then my sister Jenn paid for the application fee, because afterall, I didn't even have enough money to apply if I wanted to.
Shortly thereafter, I put out word to the church for prayer and sat down with my pastor to discuss the possibility. Unbeknownst to me, and according to the saints, they'd seen the missionary in me a long time coming. Many in fact, had already had an inkling and had added me to their prayers along with the other missionaries!
This season of great trial and upheaval was in fact, the perfect storm! Isn't Jesus the one who calms the storm?
Once my interview was booked for Thursday, February 2nd, I went through a short phase of nervousness. I just couldn't handle one more rejection, one more closed door slammed in my face or one more reminder of not belonging.
So I prayed, and was prayed over and I let that fear go. Well, I got up extra early to pray and be ready for my phone interview, and 7am PST (10am EST) rolled around and my phone did not ring. Just as I felt like I was going to tailspin into a tizzy, I prayed. I prayed for the person who was going to interview me, maybe they called in sick or were running late. 10 minutes lapsed. No call. 15 minutes lapsed. No call. Half hour lapsed, still no call.
I opened my bible, and flicked on the laptop. I thought I'd distract myself from my own impatience and worry by being in the Word. It worked. I listened to a sermon on a daily devotional site that happened to be about waiting on the Lord, specifically patience defined as trusting God's perfect timing. It was an amazing message, and as I sat and read through my bible and finished in prayer I had peace. I checked my phone: no calls.
I thought surely there was good reason, maybe they'd call me at 10am PST. So I sauntered downstairs for some breakfast, and when I reached the dining table suddenly my phone chimed. It didn't ring, it chimed. This could only mean one thing: 3 missed calls. 2 Voicemails.
Seriously!? Yes, seriously. In that moment, impatience triggered anger and the peace was obliterated as I felt my ears grow hot. I listened to the messages only to hear how I could call back within 15 minutes, and then I could call back to re-schedule and was reminded sternly how important it is to keep these interview times!
In my anger, I called back. I was ready to defend myself and point out that in fact I had been waiting for my call. Instead of getting assistance, I got a voicemail. I left a message, and then followed up with an email.
And then I felt a divine tap on the shoulder…God: Excuse me, missy…what did you just learn about? me: umm…patience and trusting Your timing? But I missed…ohh.. God: you heard a teaching, now apply the lesson…
It wasn't easy, because no one called me back or replied to my email that whole day. In fact, I was leaving the following morning for 3 days to go to youth camp as a leader. I knew, that even if anyone did answer me, I'd be away and unable to receive the reply. God was making me wait until Monday. He was gently teaching me patience.
When I returned Sunday night, sure enough, I had an email reply that came Friday. My interview was rescheduled until Thursday, February 9th. I replied back, determined to explain what had happened and apologize, but also included a landline number to call as an alternative.
Thursday the 9th, I was up early again. I prayed. I waited. This time, my phone rang, but it wasn't Adventures in Missions. It was my friend and when I tried to answer my phone, the touch screen was not working. I was receiving calls, but the very same phone which had worked only hours earlier the night before, was suddenly not working at all. I could see the call come in, but nothing would work to answer it.
Seriously!? 15 minutes to the appointed interview time, and my cell phone did not work. I even ran downstairs to show Myrna and she suggested I call the office and advise them to call my landline. I called Adventures in Mission, and again, I got a voicemail and no answer.
I ran hurriedly up the stairs to send an email notifying my contact to please call my landline. No reply. And when I was on the brink of a conniption, I felt that divine tapping on my shoulder. The Holy Spirit was bringing to mind the amazing lesson I learned from the first missed interview call.
So, following protocol, I bowed into prayer and sure enough, God had a Word for me. I read it. It was both a word of encouragement and a word of correction. I somberly came to the stairwell and asked Myrna to pray over me, and then I shared with her what God had just spoken. Completely repentant, I scurried back to my room to confess.
In those short minutes before the interview, God had lovingly brought me to my knees again and He gave me a vision. He showed me that I was continuously coming to the cross bearing up my offering with my hands face up. He was asking me to sacrifice that offering by turning my palms face down and dropping it at the foot of the cross. It's one thing to hold up an offer, it's a sacrifice to drop it and let it go.
The amen had just escaped my lips, when the broken phone rang. With full faith that God had ordained this call to be received, I reached out with my finger and the screen received my touch and took the call. I answered my interview call with "HALLELUJAH!!!" and then I had to ask the caller to please give me a moment to praise God and thank Him in prayer.
To make a point, that call got dropped 3 times during the interview. Each time the phone rang with the call back, the touch screen worked and we were able to finish the interview.
When the interview ended, my phone broke completely and never worked again.
Yes, God can call through a broken phone. He's God, and He can do anything. Anything.
A week went by, and not a moment of unrest passed or phased me, because I had peace that no matter what God had done miracles in the way He was teaching me to walk by faith.
I wasn't worried anymore if I was going to be rejected as an applicant. God had affirmed and confirmed that I was accepted in the Beloved.
One week rolled by, and I hadn't heard back. I was OK. I was better off for the experiences leading up to that point, as I figured.
God wasn't late. He never is. And then the morning of Friday, February 17th I awoke from a dream where within the dream I woke up and answered the phone. "Imelda, you're accepted." Well, that was just a dream, I thought.
I woke up from that dream, and then my phone rang. It was Adventures in Missions calling me "So we've reviewed your application and we feel you're an excellent candidate for the World Race…" and there was a pause, and somehow I was expecting to hear…"but," followed by some sort of rejection. I was silent. And the voice said "hello?" and I said "yes, well what does that mean?"
The answer: Imelda, you're accepted.
The dream was a reality.
God called. I answered.
All that to say, thanks mom for reminding me to keep my blog updated and for your encouraging words…"I don't think you'll be OK on that missions trip…I know you'll be great on that missions trip."
