The first thing I remember is seeing a jacked up F-250 come flying over the median, and into my lane. It was like I’d suddenly entered the set of Fast and Furious, and then he hit me head on and crushed the front of my F-150. Injuries included a laceration on my forearm, a puncture wound, a concussion, a hematoma in my right knee (which is still a little numb to this day), and four hair-line fractures and a torn ligament in my right foot. The accident took place on July 27, 2017, and so began the Lord’s call from my plan and into His.
I have often struggled to trust the Lord to give me His best. I’ve attempted to control my career path, relationship status, friendships, growth, and everything else under the sun to no avail. It’s been a pattern for quite some time, and often circumstances are necessary to pry open my greedy little hands and remind me who I belong to. I had this elaborate plan for my life in Springfield, and tried to muscle it into submission (even while I literally hobbled on a knee scooter or crutches). I struggled and failed so many times I can’t count them on both hands. I was livid with God for letting this happen to me, his “good and faithful servant” (sounds so self-righteous doesn’t it? lol). I hit rock bottom eventually, and found myself drowning in depression and self-pity for months. BUT GOD was faithful, patient, and kind. He knew my heart in all of it, and that I was trying to find security and significance in myself or other tangible things outside of Him. Jesus did not die so we could find a cheap substitute for His extravagant love, and He never abandoned me. After months of kicking and screaming, I surrendered to His will. Unclenching my fists I allowed the Lord to have the control piece by piece. The more I released, the more I began to feel the freedom His grace brings.
As the Lord restored my brokenness, I began to feel that I wasn’t supposed to put roots down here. So with open palms I started my search. In February I reached out to seek counsel from Fawn Brents, an old friend from Kansas City who is also very involved in a children’s rescue in Guatemala, and we set a date to speak on the phone. A couple of days later she made a peculiar Facebook post stating the need for someone with a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology at Casa de mi Padre per a recent mandate from the Guatemalan Government. Little did she know, I had just graduated from college with a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology two months prior. Can you say divine intervention?! After weeks of prayer and seeking counsel, I accepted the commission to go.
So here I am, getting ready to move to a third-world country armed with only my Bachelor’s and what’s left of my Spanish 2 vocabulary from high school. You know what’s missing from my arsenal? ALL SENSE OF CONTROL (among many other things). Can I say that I feel adequately equipped for this? Nope. Not in the slightest. But was Moses equipped for his calling? Nope! The man questioned God at every turn, and yet the Lord was faithful and used him to bring all of the Israelites to the Promised Land. What about Gideon? Not even a teeny-bit He was hiding in a wine cellar when the Lord called him, and then questioned God twice (because one miracle isn’t enough). What about David? He was a kid with a bag of stones facing a literal giant. Abraham? He had no idea where he was going, but he went because God called. Esther? Ehud? I could go on. As far as called and unequipped folks go, I’m in pretty good company. And so I hold fast to the truth of 2 Corinthians 12:9-11.
“And He has said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is perfected in weakness.’ Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong.”