It is really difficult to begin…oh, how to begin? "Once upon a time"… no, thats not right. "In the beginning"… that doesn't fit either. Perhaps to begin with a statement.
(Brace yourselves I'm afraid you are in for a long story, but I promise I will try to condense it as much as possible but a lot of detail is needed so you'll understand how awesome God is in ALL of this!)
God does not trade fair.
For almost as long as I can remember I have wanted to do missions work in Africa. I'm not sure really when it began… or if it did. What I mean by that is that I couldn't pin it down to an outside source that made me interested. When I was woven together it was just a strand that was worked throughout my entire being. When I was a child and would meet missionaries to these places I couldn't ask them enough questions or even stand close enough to them. It was as though some of their "missionariness" would somehow rub off on me. I was certain that someday I would go and even though I wasn't sure I could have told you why I wanted to I just knew that I NEEDED to. It seemed such a simple thing, 1)I would learn to eat bugs (all the Missionaries I met brought candied bugs with them so it seemed a must) 2) I would teach the Bible in a way that everyone would understand (from my Precious Moments Bible Stories book) and 3)….. Nope that was about the extent of my plan.
As I got a little older my plan only changed enough to allow for a missionary husband and the possibility of going to other countries, but Africa was still where my heart beat the strongest…. Somewhere around Middle School/ Jr High after that life began to happen. It slipped in so subtilely that before I knew it my dream of Africa had been filed away under "Childish Dreams and Notions". It was something nice to look at or think about but not "realistic". Unfortunately, the enemy wasn't content with seeing me put it up he wanted to make sure I never reached for it again. Firey darts were being thrown at my soul and everyone cut deep. Once in battle it didn't seem to take long to trade the truth that God had sewn into me for the lies of the enemy. I wasn't worthy of such a calling, more than that… I couldn't do it. No one would listen because I didn't have anything worth saying. Who did I think I was kidding I wasn't good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, and on and on they came. What followed was years of self-hatred, depression, anger at God. I was too consumed with my own misery to ever think back to my "childish hopes". I'm sure the enemy patted himself on the back while singing "Another one bites the dust", I was beaten.
A blessed day for me (and a horrific one for the enemy) when God broke through every wall I had built and told me that even though I was beaten He in fact was not and I had never been out of His sight. (I'll have to share that story another time) Slowly He began to bring me out of the pit that I had dug myself into. And along the way He began to restore my once cherished dreams. The process started my last year of college (2006) and finally came to the point in the last couple of years where I seriously started getting ready to go on short term mission trips. (side note: One of the most influential tools that God used in restoring me to mu dream was a book called The Dream Giver by Bruce Wilkinson. READ IT!!!)
*Deep breath* (That was all the back ground for the next part, told you it was going to be long!)
Now we are caught up in my life to last spring/summer. There was a trip to Malawi Africa that would be a month long and would actually take the team through 3 or 4 different countries doing kids outreaches. AND I WAS GOING!!!!! I couldn't believe it, I had prayed about it and I knew that I was supposed to be going. Words could not express my excitement, what the enemy had meant to dead and buried God had raised from the ashes. Imagine, FINALLY realizing my life long dream!!! Anyone and everyone who looked like they might possibly listen to my plans heard them over and over and over and over and over again. (Did I mention that I was excited?)
One day a couple of months before we were set to go, when I had my dream all laid out before me admiring all that God had brought me through to get back to it, He tapped me on the shoulder. "Bekah," He said softly.
"Hum?" was my distracted answer. "Will you give me that?" I was still busy polishing my dream, I distractedly answered "Have what?" Still softly," Your dream…" I stopped, stunned. Surely I had something wrong, or perhaps he was joking. I felt the need to remind him, " But… you gave it to me!?" the reply "I know, but will you give it to me?" Then followed a line of questions, " What are you going to do with it?" "Am I going to get it back?" "Does this mean I'm never going?" "Why would you give it to me only to take it away again?!" My answer…"Trust me." I was confused and sad and trusting wasn't on the top of my "to-do" list. He had made it clear that He wasn't taking it from me but He wanted me to freely give it to Him AND not to ask any questions! & if that wasn't bad enough he didn't want me to tell anyone about our conversation! So I didn't even know if I was going to go or not. I thought I could handle it if I just had some sort of answer even if it was "No, you are never going" It was the not knowing anything and not being able to ask about it that was driving me crazy! I didn't have to give it to Him, it was my choice. I wrestled with that choice for two weeks. To put it another way… I had a spiritual hissy fit! I reasoned that had literally went through years of hell (of course the fact that that had been a lot of my own doing escaped me at that moment) and seen my dream wither to nothing, it wasn't fair of Him to ask it of me now that it was flourishing! I DESERVED my dream! At that time it hit me that I spiritually resembled the creature on Lord of the Rings that is entranced by the ring, and is running around crying "My Precious!" to an object. When it finally sunk in I was horrified at myself. How could I deny the living God anything that he might ask of me?! In my human folly I had been holding so tight to my dream when I should have been holding to the Dream Giver. In brokenness of spirit I repented.
Then the funniest thing of all happened…I was at peace. It was ok that I didn't know what was going on, it was ok that I may not be going because my focus was finally in the proper place. A week or two after giving my dream back to God one of my friends very cautiously told me that the trip had been canceled. Actually they had thought it would be canceled for a little while before that but no one wanted to tell me because they knew how much it meant to me. I actually had a difficult time trying to convince her that I was ok. When she told me I said "OK" and she continued to try and explain the reasons why and so on. I finally ended up having to get her attention and saying" Look at me! Am I freaking out? Do I seem upset?" she paused "No, no you're not!"
So from the beginning to recap…As a Child God gave me a dream, I gave my dream to the enemy, God took back my dream and made it more, then God asked for it back and gave me a deeper love and peace in Him. And if the story would have ended there it really would have been fine.
But as it turned out, God had an even bigger dream waiting for me. He brought me into a church service where a girl was talking about this little thing called the World Race. The only way I can explain how I felt would be to say that my spirit leapt within me. I cautioned myself not to get ahead of God. But then He whispered in my ear, "It your gift."
So another quick tally, not only did he trade beauty for ashes in my life but also One month in one country for 11 months in 11 countries(3 of which are in AFRICA!!)…I am so thankful that He doesn't trade fair.
