I asked Him what I should do with my life, while a desire to share about Jesus was really growing in me. In tenth grade I began to see that there was a bigger dream in front of me than mine of being an author.
In the same month (January 2006), my Dad, who I loved deeply, died of a heart attack, and I found him in our basement. The scene traumatized me and I went into a state of shock. My mom was widowed with seven children under the age of eighteen, while five others were grown. I cried bitterly through the first night, but stayed silent for most of that year. My parents had a deep, committed love for each other, and our family was very close. With my dad gone, our lives changed drastically, and we all missed him terribly. My brothers stepped in to help.
2006 to 2009 were the hardest and most insecure years of my life. I didn’t want to do anything because I had no initiative. I feared letting anyone come inside my pain, so I stuffed it for three years, hardly shedding a tear. But there was one thing I still aspired to do, and that was to follow Jesus to the nations, if He really wanted me to. Then in 2009, the Lord showed me the danger of stuffing my grief, and I found myself moving into a home of a godly family that God had placed in my life for healing. They lived on a campground and farm, and wanted to help equip me for whatever God had put into my heart. This was so helpful, because they had a big heart for the nations, and I needed to learn more about that. By the end of the summer, God had healed me from the intense pain I felt.
In the meantime, earlier that Spring, I was baking cookies with my neighbor, and she asked me if I wanted to go with her church to the Dominican Republic. She would sponsor me! I was afraid. Going out of the country was such an unknown thing to me that it felt like signing up for a chance to die. So my uncle went with me and we stayed for a week.
I lived with the family on the campground for a total of eleven months. Toward the end of that trip, we went to India–a group of eight–and got to share our testimonies at seventeen different children’s schools. It was awesome! We danced, performed skits, sang, and prayed for children, so that they would begin to know the love of God. I didn’t even know that I would enjoy dancing, but I did! Again, I had been terrified to go on the trip, but I found out that I loved it. Four months later, God called me to the Middle East.
Iraq. That was the next place. If I had been scared of the Dominican Republic, I could laugh in its face, now. And this was the first trip that I took alone. The funny thing was that I wasn’t nearly as afraid to go to Iraq as I had been for India and the Dominican. After training in three states, I said good-bye to my family again, intending to work with my friend for three months. There I taught English as a second language, and received my first class ever: twenty-four children and teenagers in a brand new school, with me as the only teacher. I felt slightly intimidated, yet slightly ready for the challenge, yet slightly like, “Oh Lord, help!” I made really good friends in Iraq, and I hope to see them again, one day. Unfortunately, I had a recurring sickness, and had to come home early.
This past Winter, God impressed it on my heart to go to the Holy Land and work with my friend who had been living in Iraq. This time, I thought, “I don’t want to go, Lord.” And I put it off. I said, “Is it You, Lord?” And I thought it was His leading, but wasn’t entirely sure. I didn’t want to do all the work it takes to go out of the country again. I didn’t want to miss my family and friends. I didn’t want to leave the safety and comfort of my own home, and go to the place people were telling me was going to war. And plus, I still wanted to be an author, so I spent the entire time home writing a 300+ page story. But when that didn’t take off like I had hoped, I put it aside for the time and sought God on what He wanted for me. It seemed that He wanted me to go, so hesitantly I started to make plans. After some hefty encouragements, I went.
Little did I know that when I arrived in the Holy Land, I would love it completely! So I ended up staying for four months instead of the original three. It redeemed the last month that I couldn’t stay in Iraq. 🙂 I taught English again, and this time I loved it to the core. I fed homeless refugees from Africa and Asia, shared the Lord with them, and got invited to people’s homes. I’m so glad that I went. I’m so thankful that God knows best!
I’ve been home for three weeks, now, and am getting ready for the World Race, thinking that this is where God is leading me next. Beyond this, only God knows! Whether He sends me abroad or keeps me home, His Kingdom come, His will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. 🙂
