Compassion

Here in the American Republican

Actually, we’re in the Dominican Republican but Caroline couldn’t figure out how to say it so she’s been telling people all week that her mama is going to the American Republican, which makes it sound like I’m very politically involved as opposed to being on a trip with Compassion.

We’re here. We’re safe. I love our group.

All is well.

And just so you know, here are the other bloggers that are with me so that you can check out their posts throughout the week.

Mary at Owlhaven
Jennifer at 5 Minutes for Mom
Marlboro Man and his daughters from Pioneer Woman
Tim at Challies.com

And our leaders are:

Brian Seay
Shaun Groves

And our trip photographer who also happens to be my roommate:

Keely Scott

We’re heading out in just a little while to visit our first Compassion Project and I’ll be back on Tuesday with a full report.

Some thoughts from 39,000 feet

I have known from the moment I agreed to go on this trip with Compassion that it would be a learning experience for me. However, I had no idea I would learn so much before I even got to Miami. Here are just a few gems I have gathered in the five hours (Or six? All the time changes have me all screwed up. Daylight Savings! Eastern Time! Central Standard Time!) since I left home.

1. I decided to bring P’s backpack as my carry-on. It seemed very utilitarian and mission trip-y, plus it holds a ton of stuff. This morning as I walked out the door, he handed me the backpack and made the comment that he could tell just by lifting it that I’d packed it wrong. And I was all like, “Whatever. There isn’t a science to packing a backpack. You just throw stuff in.”

Guess what? After walking through two airports carrying the backpack, I believe it is packed all wrong because the weight distribution is terribly uneven. Sadly, I do not have enough knowledge or backpack expertise to remedy this problem.

2. At the D/FW airport they no longer call the public bathrooms “Restrooms”. They call them what they are “Toilets”. I find the honesty to be refreshing.

3. On my flight to Dallas, I sat next to a man who inhaled a 32 oz. bag of Barbecue Corn Nuts in three bites, a task he accomplished by turning the bag up three times and taking huge mouthfuls of Corn Nuts.

I have never seen such efficient snack eating in my life. Seriously. The only way he could have cut down his time would be to grind those suckers up and put them in an I.V.

4. If you listen to Hillsong’s “Savior King” while on your way to a mission trip in the Dominican Republic, it will make you cry at the privilege to be a part of something so incredible.

I believe that’s all for now, but I’ll keep you posted because knowledge is good.

And here I go

First, I’d like to give a huge shout out to Daylight Savings Time. Thank you for the extra hour this morning because I needed it more than words can convey.

Second, I want to tell y’all thank you for all your emails, thoughts, and prayers for the upcoming week. They have meant more to me than I can properly articulate. THANK YOU.

Thirdly (Third?), I’d like to thank my bathroom scale for making me think I weighed ten pounds less than I actually do. A sad fact that I discovered this morning when my suitcase actually weighed 56.4 pounds instead of the 46 pounds indicated by my scale. Awesome.

I’m here at the airport waiting to get on a flight to Dallas. From Dallas, I’ll fly to Miami where I’ll meet up with the rest of my team and we’ll head to the Dominican Republic.

Leaving the house this morning went much better than I anticipated. There were no meltdowns and just a few tears, but P texted me 30 seconds later to let me know she was all smiles again.

I got to the airport, checked my 56.4 pound bag and got myself a breakfast quesadilla for breakfast. Oh I wish I’d taken a picture because it was larger than my head. I sat down to check email and eat aforementioned quesadilla when “Sweet Caroline” by the great Neil Diamond began to play on the overhead speakers.

And for a moment I lost my resolve.

But I’m back. Thankfully they switched the Soft Rock to Tejano Classics and it’s hard to be sad while listening to a good salsa beat.

Okay, they’re boarding so I need to run. I’ll report in every time I get a chance.

Also, I didn’t even finish a quarter of the breakfast quesadilla.

If I just breathe

Last Friday I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond with two goals in mind. One was to find some type of gold drapery cord that could be fashioned into a golden lasso of truth. The other was to buy a sound machine to take with me to the Dominican Republic.

It has been well-documented that I am a high-maintenance sleeper. I require all manner of pillows and blankets, in addition to some kind of white noise, to get my beauty rest. I have to go to the bathroom exactly three times before I can go to bed and once I’m finally in the bed I am very reminiscent of a dog circling three times before I lay down for the night.

Gulley called me while I was in Bed, Bath and Beyond looking for a sound machine and when I told her where I was and what I was doing, she said, “When did you become such a high-maintenance sleeper? When we were in college you’d just lay down and close your eyes like a normal person.”

And it’s true. I’ve become much more particular as I’ve gotten older. A fact, no doubt, that fills P with great joy as we anticipate growing old together.

Back in August when Sophie was in town for Living Proof Live, Gulley stayed in the hotel with us on Friday night. I made the huge error of forgetting to pack a sound machine and Sophie and I were overwrought at the idea of all the silence as we slept. Gulley said she’d never seen two people so worked up about not being able to sleep before we’d even tried to go to bed. Apparently there was much pacing and anxiety.

That sound you hear is Mary and Jennifer emailing Shaun Groves begging him not to put them in a room with me in the Dominican.

Anyway, the point is that the irony of buying a sound machine to take on a mission trip to a third world country is not lost on me. If anything I see it as a huge blinking neon sign that reads, “HELLO. YOU ARE ABOUT TO STEP OUT OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE.”

And I am. I know I am.

I am comfortable. I like my nice little world and my nice little life. Granted, it’s not perfect but it’s what I know.

Over the last two years, God has increasingly called me to a place where I’m not so comfortable. I left a job that provided a lot of financial security, we faced medical issues and bills that were higher than we expected, I’ve sent my only child off to Kindergarten and felt a little lost in the process, and now we’re watching the economy take a nosedive while P owns a landscaping business and most people don’t see landscaping as a necessity. Honestly, it hasn’t been easy but at the same time I see the hand of God all over it.

He has called me to total dependence on Him. I spent so much time believing I was self-sufficient and He loved me too much to let me go on that way. He wants me to see Him, to really see Him. As my provider, my shelter, my strong tower, my rock, and my hiding place.

Yet I still fight it sometimes. I run back to where I feel comfortable, back to a place where I think I’m in charge of everything and can find solutions.

On Sunday morning at 9:30 a.m. I will leave for the Dominican Republic. To be totally honest, I go back and forth between being excited about the opportunity and being scared of what’s ahead. How do I prepare myself for what I’m going to see? How do you prepare yourself for a trip that you know is going to break your heart?

I am well aware of my weaknesses. I don’t do well with bad smells. The sushi counter at HEB can set me off, so how am I going to handle a city dump in a third world country? I don’t like feeling dirty. I don’t like being hot. I don’t like being away from my husband and my daughter. I’m not crazy about air travel, especially multiple flights. I need a sound machine to sleep at night.

I am a poor candidate for a mission trip.

But if I’ve learned nothing else over the last two years of my life, it’s that He is strong in my weakness. He has been the gentle hand that has kept me from curling up in the fetal position and calling it a day.

It is His hand that has led me to this trip. The last two years have taught me to surrender to the season of life that I’m in, rather than fighting it with everything I have, wondering how long it’s going to last. It’s taught me that He has a plan that is better than my plan.

Honestly, my plan was kind of boring. It involved selling pharmaceutical products with no passion, but with the security of a nice paycheck and a company car. Safe, but boring.

His plan apparently involves some risk, some passion and taking a trip to a third world country that may not smell very good. It often makes me feel like I’m teetering out on a ledge, hoping that there’s a safety net waiting for me.

And there is.

He is.

Waiting to catch me.

Waiting to catch you.

“We are His creation-created in Christ Jesus for good works which God prepared ahead of time so that we should walk in them.” Ephesians 2:10

Now I just need to pack my bags

A few days ago, I received an email from Shaun Groves with a form that I needed to fill out for my trip to the Dominican Republic with Compassion. The form required some information from my passport so P got it out of the safe for me, and when I opened it up I gasped in horror.

It is, without question, the worst picture that has ever been taken of me and that is saying something because I am highly unphotogenic. I got the passport back in 2001 before P and I went to Sicily with my family. Caroline wasn’t born until 2003, so I can’t even blame sleep deprivation for my pasty white skin and horrendous hair.

And, really, I can’t even discuss the plaid sweater set that I’m wearing. It’s just too painful to think I ever thought it was a good idea.

Anyway, filling out the form made me think about my upcoming trip and I realized I’d never shared why I decided to go.

Back in early June, Shaun sent me an email asking if I’d be interested in going to the Dominican Republic with Compassion. I talked to him on the phone, we discussed the trip, I promised to pray about it and let him know.

P didn’t really think it was a good idea, mainly because he was worried about my safety, and I just didn’t feel like it was the right thing for me. I emailed Shaun back, told him thanks for the invitation, but I just didn’t think this was the right time for me to make the trip.

The first Sunday of August, P went to church without Caroline and me. He came home and told me about the service. Our church had just participated in something called Royal Family Kids’ Camp, which is a week-long camp for abused and neglected kids.

He told me about the stories the camp counselors shared during church and was moved to tears just retelling them. He said it made him think about what he was doing to help the least of these. I felt something in my spirit begin to question if I was supposed to email Shaun and ask if it was too late to go on the trip.

But I pushed the feeling down and decided I was just caught up in the moment as I heard the heartbreaking stories.

Gulley and I left that Tuesday to take the kids on a road trip to Bryan. On Wednesday night, I got on her mama’s computer to check email. I scanned over everything in my inbox and then saw something that caught my eye.

It was an email from Shaun with the heading ARE YOU SURE?

I didn’t have to open it to know what it said. I mean chances were good that Shaun wasn’t emailing me to ask if I was sure about the shoes I’d bought the day before. Sure enough, the email said there was still room on the trip and asked if I was sure I didn’t want to go. He needed an answer by Friday.

As I lay in bed that night, my mind was racing with all the reasons I didn’t think I should go. Finally I just said, “God, I will go if you are calling me to go, but you’re going to have to make P okay with it. I can’t go if he doesn’t want me to go.”

Gulley and I drove back to San Antonio on Thursday afternoon. When I got home I continued to pray about whether or not I was supposed to go. Honestly, I knew the answer, but I was scared. It is so outside my comfort zone.

I walked over to the desk and opened my Bible. My eyes immediately fell to the page and the verse I saw was Psalm 139:9, “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.”

Okay. I get it.

Thursday night after I got Caroline in bed, I sat on the couch with P and told him everything that had happened. He listened and then said, “I’m still completely opposed to you going. I don’t think it’s safe.”

I told him to just pray about it and to keep in mind that God doesn’t always call us to do what’s comfortable. He said he would absolutely pray about it and I knew that he would.

We didn’t talk about it at all the next morning and I just kept praying that God would lead us in the way we should go. Then around lunchtime, P walked in the back door as I was fixing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Caroline and said, “If you truly feel like God is calling you to go on this trip, then I think you should go. I’m okay with it.”

And there you have it.

I emailed Shaun and told him I was in and was excited about it. Not nervous, not scared, just thrilled to see what God is going to do.

The trip is now a little less than a month away and I have times where I start to feel anxious about it. I’ve never been that far away from Caroline and for that long, but every time the fear starts to rise up God is so faithful to remind me that He is my protector, my strong tower, my strength and my shield.

He has called me to go. And so I will.

Not because it’s comfortable, but because I’ve been called.

“Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.”
I Corinthians 1:26-27

People who will see me with bad hair

About a week ago I mentioned my upcoming trip to the Dominican Republic with Compassion.

And since then I realized I will need to absentee vote in the Presidential elections.

I’ve never been good with dates.

I’m sure other people thought of that immediately, but it didn’t dawn on me until I heard someone refer to election day on November 4 and I was all like “November 4? Where am I going to be November 4? That date means something for some reason.”

Oh yes. I’ll be out of the country.

No watching hours of endless media speculation and early projections for me.

I can honestly say I’m not even sad about it. Just let me know what happens when it’s all over.

Anyway, the point is that I wanted to tell y’all who else will be on the trip with me so you’ll know who else will be early voting.

1. Mary at Owlhaven. I’m so excited Mary is going because I’ve read her blog for years and just love her. She has ten kids of her own and I’m hoping she might temporarily adopt me while we’re in the Dominican.

2. Jennifer at 5 Minutes for Mom. I’ve emailed with Jennifer since I started my blog because we are both Aggies, even though she has the great misfortune of living up north right now. But we share a love of Kyle Field, the Dixie Chicken, and Double Daves pizza rolls.

3. Marlboro Man at Pioneer Woman and his two daughters. I feel certain that most of you know who Marlboro Man is because over a gazillion and a half people read his wife’s blog. I think we’ll have a lot in common because I sometimes see cows as I drive down the road and he is a cattle rancher.

4. Tim at Challies.com and his son. Tim is Canadian so he won’t be early voting.

Our fearless leaders will be Shaun Groves and Brian Seay.

There may be a few last minute additions to the group, so I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, we’d all appreciate your prayers as we begin to prepare for the trip.