It’s been a while.
A lot has happened.
I’ve changed.
November brought changes of seasons – with my team, my family, my heart, my views of “Home” and of “Ministry”.
My Team
My Team (Team Redeemed) joined another group of 7 girls to serve a host church in Tyre, Lebanon. Though the country is legally supportive of religious freedom, the people are split: North and South, Christian and Muslim. Civil war has worn the people down.
“The people are tired of fighting. Now they want to build.” – a successful business woman from Tyre who invited us in for coffee and tea.
Now their neighbors from Syria are flooding in. Over the period of seven years, hundreds of thousands have fled their homeland into the bordering nations: Lebanon and Jordan. In Jordan, we are also completely changing Teams.
My Family
My family has changed a lot since I left in August. My Nephew was born October 19th – my first little bebe of my own blood. I cried when I found out he was on the way. I wept when it sank in that I wouldn’t be there for his arrival. I almost postponed my trip. My conclusion? The sooner I left, the sooner I could come home to watch him grow up. And I really felt like this trip was God-ordained.
Then my grandmother got sick. ALS or Lymes, we’ll never know for sure. But her first treatment happened a few months before launch. She was my hardest goodbye. Why was it so hard? Surely, she would be there when I got home…
November was the month I was told to prepare my heart. I could hear it in my mom’s voice. I could sense it through my dad’s texts. “You need to FaceTime Meme,” translated in my mind to, “If you want to see her, it’s now or never.”
My Heart
August-December has been so different from what i expected. I’ve grown in ways i didn’t know i wanted to grow. I’ve lost things i thought i needed. I’ve gained things I didn’t know i couldn’t live without. And it would’ve been more than i could handle except for one thing: Jesus.
Now, for those of you who don’t know me, I’ve experienced depression and the deepest, darkest parts of myself. It was not pretty. It lasted a whole three years and I almost entered an abusive marital union. Only by the grace of God, (and the blood of Jesus), can I say I am completely free from depression, shame, abuse, or even regret for that time period of my life. Jesus has redeemed every part of my life! and he has given me so much healing and freedom from all missteps.
So when I say it was hard, but not more than I could bear, it’s only because of that TOUGH season of depression, wrestling with God on every topic under the sun.
December 6th
Meme passed away. It was already the 7th on my side of the world. 1:24 am. I was up because I had ice cream with my team and hosts and the sugar was still in my system. Hindsight, I know it was God’s way of keeping me involved. It was so precious to me to have shared that moment with my family, even though I am thousands of miles away. Grief. What an indescribable emotion.
My Home
I might start crying as I write this.
God ordained every moment after my grandmother passed away. I could hear the Holy Spirit’s sweet whisper, “Go upstairs…” etc. etc. I went upstairs to the other team’s apartment – away from WiFi and any expectation of new messages or updates. I slept with such peace. I woke up with a literal extra blanket laid over me, as if the Psalms were materializing in the physical. “I lay down and slept; I woke again, for the Lord sustained me.”
(Psalms 3:5 ESV/ and about a thousand other psalms about how the Lord covers those who love him)
The next morning was Travel Day. I only told a few people: my team and a trusted handful of friends on the other team. “Do whatever you need to do. And let us know what you need and we’ll do it.” I had already cried on the shoulders of some of these women. That day, we traveled by bus to the airport. I had dried my tears, mostly in shock, and partly because there were things that needed to be done. But once we were on the bus I heard the Holy Spirit’s voice once more.
My Ministry
I got on the bus that morning. “Sit in that seat” the Little Voice in my Spirit said to me. “But it has the food bags in it.” “Sit there.”
I sat in the seat behind the one. But once everyone loaded onboard – with packs for days – I couldn’t shake the Voice. The food-bag-seat was still empty. I must’ve been staring at the seat pretty hard whilst my inner argument waged, because Emily F. looked at me and asked “Would you like to sit there? We can just move the food.” “Yes!” I responded.
Emily and I had a pretty good convo as we watched Lebanon zoom by. Then, about 20 minutes in, I got a follow-up from the Voice in my Mind. “Go sit next to the bus driver.”
5 excuses bounced around in my mind.
“There are guitars up there.”
“I would have to ask Valerie to move. And she’s fast asleep.”
“He probably doesn’t even speak English.”
“People will see me.”
“My grandmother just died.”
Then I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath and said, “okay.”
I chose obedience. But I asked God a favor in return.
“I’ll go up there. It’ll be weird. But I’m not going to wake Sleeping Beauty. If you want me to go up there, You wake up Val.”
Not even 60 seconds passed before Valerie began to stir.
Okay, God. I see you.
My conversation with the bus driver was exquisitely designed.
He was a grandparent whose wife died 12 years ago. He’s Armenian (I’m going to Armenia!) and he never really gets to see his grandchildren because the cost of living in Lebanon requires that he work 14 hour days and he’s just exhausted after each shift. He has lost all hope. He is just waiting to die. Everyone around him just asks for money and he gives what he has, but it’s lonely to not have any genuine relationships. He told me about how he met his wife and how he swept her away (despite her family’s objections). He told me about how his grandfather fled to Lebanon after 1.3 MILLION Armenians were massacred in a day in the 1920s. He showed me pictures of his grandson that died last year in a car accident. He was 5 years old.
A few minutes before our arrival at the airport, I prayed a blessing over this wonderful man. For his heart. For his family. For him to feel the love of our Father and the Peace that surpasses understanding. As soon as I said “amen” we were at the airport. He said, “Thank you so much for your prayer for me.” (Turns out, English is one of the 7 languages he speaks.)
I looked deep into his tear-glazed eyes – those blessed windows to the soul – and from the bottom of my heart said, “No, Thank YOU.”
Prayer Requests
- Fundraising – Only $6,500 needed to be fully funded! Thank you so much to those who have partnered with me.
- Safety/Access – we’re now in Jordan. Pray for continued favor with border crossings and safety for the whole squad as we continue sharing the Good News in Muslim territory.
- Training – I’m learning how to live in community and how to “do ministry”. God is rocking my world.
- Love – pray my heart is open to pour out to the nations, to the individuals, to the broken-hearted, and to my new team, “Homegrown & Flourishing”.
- Support – I need prayer as I continue to grow and stretch and also grieve. Pray I love through the loss!
