In case you don’t know already…this past Sunday I did a
typical Tamara thing, you know, getting myself into something that isn’t
exactly normal for people to do… I was in a Filippino motorcycle accident! Note:
the ‘Filippino’ part makes it a much better story opener.
As I’m sure everyone knows, my number one fear in life is
car wrecks…this extends to motorcycles as well. The night before, I was actually talking with my teammates
about how I would NOT be found riding one of those here. HA. Fast forward 12
hours and there I am on the ground…pothole, gravel, yeah. That’s just the first
part of the story…as Jordan (who was taking me to sit with baby Cedric at the
hospital) and I decide on the rest of the details, I’ll fill everyone in. Don’t
worry, this one is gonna be good!
So there I am, sideways on a rocky road (not the ice cream)
bleeding and in a good deal of pain; I realized I had two choices: I could cry
and feel the pain, or I could laugh and deal with it. Jordan instantly felt
terrible that I was involved. So, I laughed. It’s just a physical body…it will
heal. Once we got back to home base, the fun began. Washing, picking out rocks,
flushing with peroxide, bracing myself against the shower wall as my teammate
Alecia carefully sanitized me with alcohol, and wrapped me in gauze. FYI=the
actual accident is about 43 times LESS painful than the cleaning of the wounds.
For about 2 days, I was out of commission. Not really able
to walk around to visit the orphans, or take food to the hungry, I for sure felt helpless, lazy, and
irritated with myself for not just bucking up and doing something useful. Then
God spoke. He said LISTEN. I realized that I had been turned into a captive
audience for a reason. I called out to Him and said “alright, whatever you have
to say, go ahead and say it, I’m all yours.” And don’t worry, he started
talking. You know what I heard?
“FEAR.”
That’s how I have been living since arriving here. Fear that
I would not be able to fix anything. Fear that I wouldn’t say the right words.
Fear that I wasn’t doing enough. Fear that the dirt and germs of the slums
would get onto my nice clean American self. (talk about facing your fears) The
biggest fear I was holding onto is the most hard to admit, I confess and repent
of the fact that ultimately, I was living in fear that the God of the universe
would not be who He says He is in scripture. I was afraid that He would not be
enough. WHAT?!
I got to lay here and have my Creator gently remind me that
not only is He enough, He is ALL that is needed. He is my protector, my
provider, my strength, my every single thing I could ever need or want. He
showed me that the junk in the street is only a reflection of the mess in the
hearts of myself and everyone here. That as badly as I want to clean it all up
and give these people beautiful and sanitary lives, my Jesus wants even more to
give us all beautiful and whole lives. I was living in accordance to a spirit
of fear, not allowing God’s abundance to fill me to overflowing joy.
Once I realized all this and had some time to sit with
Christ and repent and be overwhelmed yet again by his vast grace, this whole
thing mushroomed into an opportunity. Imagine that. God decided to turn this
into something good for His kingdom, apparently He is in the business of doing
that.
A lady I have come to know here sought me out…not hard to do
since I couldn’t really leave the building…and we got to sit and share stories.
Have I mentioned the impact that the concept of story is having on me?? That’s
another blog to come. During this storytime, we both got teary-eyed. She
allowed me to come into a deep place in her soul. A place ruled by fear and
torment. A place she desperately wants to be filled with freedom and light.
Tonight I get to sit with her and continue this talk. We are
preparing to face the darkness that has controlled her for quite a long time.
My run-in with the ground is going to be the catalyst for someone to be lifted
high. I’m cool with that. More than that, I am eager to fight for her. As a
woman created in the image of God, she has the right and the access to a life
of liberation and illumination through Jesus. I am blessed to be able to serve
as a character in her story.
Moral of the story…next time you ride a motorcycle through
the Philippines and crash, if you can make it through the daily cleaning of the
injuries, chances are, God is trying to speak and act.
