oBEdient

Check out this video that focuses on the work in North Africa and the Middle East 

and please commit to pray for and support those serving around the world. And maybe ask the Lord what He is calling you to be obedient in? 

Adios and vaya con Dios!

I don’t want to go.

The thought exploded in my mind during an unguarded moment laughing with a friend a couple of weeks before my travel date. I didn’t know where those words came from, but like a blindside corner blitz, suddenly they were there, catching me off-guard and knocking the wind out of me. I had guarded my thoughts for a long time, not letting myself linger on the painful parts of what was coming. But eventually the truth burst out: I didn’t want to go. I surprised even myself, and before the pain from that realization could subside, in swept the guilt.

I’m not supposed to feel like this! I’m a missionary for crying out loud! I’m supposed to be thrilled about having this rarefied privilege to go to far-off lands and tell people about Jesus. It’s not like someone is forcing me, I volunteered for this. I worked hard for this! I danced around in my office like an idiot when I found out I got the job. I’m supposed to be so passionate about sharing the Good News that I count everything else as loss. I’m supposed to want to go!

But the truth was, I didn’t. I didn’t want to go through any of it. I didn’t want to try to shop for everything I might possibly need for two years. I didn’t want to pack my life into two (okay, okay…4) suitcases. I didn’t want to leave behind my wardrobe or…*gasp*…my shoes, my beautiful high-heeled shoes! I didn’t want to pick just a few precious photos and knick-knacks to remind me of home, and trade my stacks of books for a Kindle app. I didn’t want to give up driving and leave Gerald with my mom. I didn’t want to exchange my independence and personal space, my comfy bed and house to go live in a rented room with a Costa Rican family, living by their schedules and customs. I didn’t want the sweet cards and thoughtful gifts from the people who care so much about me. I didn’t want the last meals at my favorite restaurants, or one last plate of mom’s spaghetti. I didn’t want a final Friday Night Bible Study or a “Day o’ Lyndsey” to say goodbye to so many wonderful people. I didn’t want the beautiful prayers of blessing, the accolades and recognition, or people telling me how proud they are of me. I didn’t want to be held up as someone to be admired, after all, if they knew how I felt, they wouldn’t. I didn’t want to leave the beach or drive through the darkened streets of my hometown knowing it won’t be the same when I come back. I didn’t want to cling to the people I love and watch the minutes drain from the clock, knowing what was coming. I didn’t want to hug and kiss my friends and family one last time. I didn’t want to feel my heart breaking or cry with so much anguish I thought I’d never stop. I didn’t want to leave my comfortable home and pleasant life. I didn’t want to say goodbye. I didn’t want to go. Not one little bit.

But I did.

5:00am at DAB with Daddy and Timmy and a farewell Dr. Pepper

And you know what…it hurt! Really, really bad. I wasn’t expecting it to be so painful. I really thought that I could handle it. I’ve left home and moved to foreign cultures for extended periods of time before. Sure it was sad, but I was okay. But I was suddenly very aware that this really is an entirely different bag of cats. Moving to Europe for a school year when all of your friends are still off in college is a different challenge from leaving the USA for 2 years when everyone is in the midst of making critical career and life decisions. And I’m a different person than I was back when I moved to Paris. Maybe I’m getting soft in my old age? ;-) Whatever it is, I’ve cried more in the last 4 weeks than I have in the last 4 years, and I think my sudden sensitivity was even more alarming to myself than to the close friends who had to deal with my atypical meltdowns. For someone who usually has their emotions in check, the amount of tears that I have shed in recent days is disconcerting.

I’d like to tell you that nearly two weeks after the big goodbye I have some amazing story to tell you about how being obedient to Christ has completely erased the pain and filled my heart with gladness and enthusiasm and I’ve already seen fruit. But the truth is, it still hurts and it’s still hard. It took me a week before I made it a single day without tears, and that was less because I didn’t feel like crying, and mostly because I was simply too tired. Life in a foreign culture is exhausting.

Before you start really worrying about me and my emotional stability and go calling Member Care to get me some counseling, let me assure you I am fine. The first morning I woke up here, my immediate thought was, “Hey. I live in Costa Rica.” And that thought strikes me again at random times and makes me smile. I love learning about the culture. The mountains and plant life are beautiful, the people pretty friendly, and the food not half bad. I like the Tico (Costa Rican) family that I live with and have settled into a comfortable routine.  School has started and my Spanish is improving rapidly. Perhaps nicest of all is that we’ve been welcomed into the community of other staff from our organization that either live here permanently or who are in longer-term language study. They have gone out of their way to get us settled and show us around and are quickly becoming our family away from home. We’ve gone to church, had some gringo gatherings, and experienced a Tico birthday party complete with piñata and a cake fight, and we have laughed a LOT. I really can’t complain.

Piñata at a welcome fiesta at school. Who doesn't love a good piñata?! (Except maybe Donkey from Shrek...)

At the good times I’m amused that I live here, I enjoy the challenge of learning a new language, and I appreciate the unique culture of this place. Anytime I want, I can walk out my front door of my upscale home and buy a coconut with a straw from the guy in the truck on the street. No joke, there’s a coconut guy. But there are still times when I am lonely and the pain of missing people is raw, when I don’t want to learn a language I managed to avoid for 9 years in school, when I want to point out that I never signed up for Costa Rica. I hate to say it, but there are times when I simply don’t want to be here. In my younger years I would never had admitted any of this in a blog that everyone and their grandmother can read. I like to be seen as the one who “has it all together,” who’s competent and strong, not phased by anything. Admit my weaknesses? What weaknesses? Let’s just talk about how interesting everything is and tell clever anecdotes about not being able to flush toilet paper (for real, you don’t do that here). But I am slowly learning to let my guard down. So instead, I’d rather be transparent and show you as real a picture of me right now as I dare. It’s what I like to call “ugly honest.” So I hope I haven’t horrified any of you with what I’ve shared so far, and I hope you aren’t too disappointed with me if I admit that this hasn’t been a walk in the park and that sometimes I don’t feel like being where I am or doing what I’m doing.

As I said at the beginning of these ramblings, I didn’t really want to leave or do any of the hard things that got me here. But I did them and I’m here because that’s obedience. We don’t wait to obey until we feel like obeying. “Living by faith mean obeying God’s Word in spite of feelings, circumstances or consequences. It means holding on to God’s truth no matter how heavy the burden or how dark the day, knowing that He is working out His perfect plan.” People love to tell you to “follow your heart,” but I think that’s some of the most dangerous advice out there. If I were following my heart right now I’d be on a plane headed back to the US, because at this moment my heart is still in sunny Daytona Beach.

Can you blame me?

In Jeremiah 17:9 the Bible tells us that “the heart is deceitful above all things.” Sometimes we have to obey even when we don’t want to, but when we do, right feelings eventually follow right actions. So I think it’s okay if we don’t always feel like doing that to which we’re called, so long as we go ahead and do it anyway. And we don’t do it because we’ve been promised blessings on the other side, but because we were simply asked to obey. Like I’ve said, being obedient doesn’t protect us from hurt, sometimes it leads us right to it, but how sweet to know that while we walk that road we never walk alone.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” –Psalm 34:18

And so, on the good days I will praise Him for bringing me here, for walking beside me, and for His abundant blessings… and on the bad days I will thank Him for bringing me here, for walking beside me, and for His abundant blessings. And when I am weak and crushed in spirit I can rest in His arms and in the promise of 2 Corinthians 12:9, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” I hope that I can learn to say, as Paul did, “When I am weak, then I am strong.”

Leaving church on our first Sunday in Costa Rica.

*Thank you so much for all the outpourings of support and continued prayer during my last days at home and this transition to Costa Rica. It’s a tremendous comfort and blessing to know so many are interceding on my behalf. I mean it when I say, I couldn’t do it without you! Right now would you specifically pray that we will learn the language rapidly, that we will be good stewards of our brief time here in CR, for divine appointments and opportunities to serve, and for the continued health of team relationships. And please let me know how I can pray for you!*

Bring the Rain

Training ended more than a week ago, and my last days in Virginia were a whirlwind of packing, goodbyes, and last minute details. We still managed to carve out some sweet time with friends in the midst of that. All the young short-termers got together for a farewell celebration one evening, a fun time of snacks, silliness, and mustaches.

Yes, you read that right. Mustaches. 

But when the goofy pictures and joking subsided, we came together for a time of praise. We sang songs and lifted up prayers for the places and peoples around the world where we are going. It would have been a precious time under any circumstances, but it was all the more wonderful to me because it was storming. That may not sound especially remarkable given the bipolar nature of Virginia’s weather, and it’s not, so let me preface it with some background.

I love rain. Simple as that. Always have, always will. It’s a really convenient trait when you live in Florida, because lest you be deceived by our tourist-luring moniker, “The Sunshine State” gets a lot lot lot of rain. I really couldn’t tell you why I like the rain so much, but I love to play in it, listen to it, nap through it. I even have an entire playlist on my iPod of songs about rain. But perhaps the reason I like it so much is because it always reminds me of my heavenly Father, His power, His grace, and His faithfulness. One of my favorite hymns is “My Lord is Near Me All the Time”:

In the lightning flash across the sky, His mighty power I see,

And I know if He can reign on high, His light can shine on me.

I’ve seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder, and felt it in the rain;

My Lord is near me all the time, my Lord is near me all the time.

When the thunder shakes the mighty hills, and trembles every tree,

Then I know a God so great and strong, can surely harbor me.

I’ve seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder, and felt it in the rain;

My Lord is near me all the time, my Lord is near me all the time.

When refreshing showers cool the earth, and sweep across the sea,

Then His rainbow shines within my heart, His nearness comforts me.

I’ve seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder, and felt it in the rain;

My Lord is near me all the time, my Lord is near me all the time.

I could tell countless stories about how storms fill my heart with worship, but that night in Virginia reminded me of one in particular. As we sat there on the floor of the multipurpose room, the rain lashing the windows and providing the percussion to our songs, I closed my eyes and I was back in Haiti sitting on the floor of a house with a group of Americans just outside of Port-au-Prince.  The power and generator were both out and a Haitian storm was blowing down from the mountains with near hurricane ferocity.  We lifted up our voices in the dimness, competing to be heard over the wind and rain, singing song after song as darkness settled and the storm began to abate. We cried out “How Great is our God,” and He answered back with blinding lightning.

“I know that the Lord is great, that our Lord is greater than all gods. The Lord does whatever pleases him, in the heavens and on the earth, in the seas and all their depths. He makes clouds rise from the ends of the earth; he sends lightning with the rain and brings out the wind from his storehouses.” –Psalm 135:5-7

With each thunder roll I felt His perfect peace and contentment; in the midst of the storm I was right where I was supposed to be. I was overwhelmed by His faithfulness that night, and I hadn’t even seen the way God would use that time in Haiti to direct me to this new adventure with Him.

Rain fight in Haiti!

“Remember your covenant with us and do not break it. Do any of the worthless idols of the nations bring rain? Do the skies themselves send down showers? No, it is you, O Lord our God. Therefore our hope is in you, for you are the one who does all this.” – Jeremiah 14:21-22

A year later, sitting in Virginia with the rain pouring down, I was once again overcome by His faithfulness. To go into all the little ways God wove things together to bring me to this specific place would take too long, so perhaps I’ll do another post on that some day. But suffice it to say that when I look back over the last year plus I can’t help but see His fingerprints on so many things. My heart was overflowing with thankfulness.

“For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations.” –Psalm 100:5

It was hard to leave and it is hard to be home. Coming back I am reminded about how much I love my life here. I am surrounded by people who love me and care about me. I have wonderful family and friends. An awesome church. Lazy sundrenched beach days. Barbeque. Chickfila. Friday night Bible study. Life is good. Life is comfortable. Life is easy. And in three weeks that’ll change. The two years that seemed like no big deal are beginning to feel like an eternity. The confidence and resolve that came so easily months ago are beginning to wear thin. Normally unemotional, I now find myself on the verge of tears at least once a day whenever I am reminded that I’m really only here visiting. I want to ask if I’m making the right decision, but I can’t even get the question out. I know I am. And in some ways, knowing that is even harder. I’ve always loved the quote by C.S. Lewis, “We’re not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.” And there’s the rub. Following God doesn’t keep us from pain, sometimes it leads us straight to it. His faithfulness doesn’t always protect us from hurt, but in our hurt He is always faithful. His unfailing love is our comfort (Psalm 119:76). We have His promise that He will not leave us or forsake us. He will carry us through, and comfort us when we hurt. “I, even I, am he who comforts you.” – Isaiah 51:12

When I am weak, He is faithful.

When I hurt, He is faithful.

When I doubt, He is faithful.

When I cry out, He is faithful.

When I am brokenhearted, He is faithful.

He is faithful. Praise Jesus, He is faithful! 

 And so when my strength is gone and my confidence is weak, I can walk on trusting in the faithfulness of my Lord that pours out like rain. You could blame a low pressure system for the week of rain that followed me down from Virginia and kept me from the beach during my first days home, but I prefer to think of it as God reminding me that He is near, and He is faithful. And maybe, He’s helping me get my fill of percipitation before I move to Lima, a coastal desert where it rarely rains. I’m not excited about living in a place without storms, but although I won’t have my physical reminder of God’s faithfulness, I know His fidelity remains the same.

“Where can I go from your Sprit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.” –Psalm 139:7-10

*Prayer requests*: Thank you for your prayers and encouragement as I wrap up things in the states. Less than three weeks until Costa Rica! Please lift up Steven, Kattie and baby Evelyn who arrived in Lima today. Too many months until I see them again, but can’t wait to hear about their first days in our new home town.

*Check out the song “You Were There” by Avalon, on the music player at the bottom of the page.*