Do I?

               

Over the past year, I have become quite good at crying on my knees before the Lord. Sometimes it’s because I’m lonely. Sometimes it’s because I’m discouraged or frustrated. Other times I’m just having to let go of my own plans and expectations. One of those times is right now.

For the past seven months I have been here in Stone Mountain, Georgia, working as a nanny and making my way through the process of joining AIM staff. This process technically began last summer with my experience in Nicaragua, but I took my first official step in the direction of AIM last October.

In January when I started raising support, May seemed eons away. I kept working for my friends, the Beatos, and I watched as their baby boy grew plump little five-month old cheeks. I began pondering when I might quit my job and sell my car, but those events seemed much too distant from the present reality of changing diapers and patty-cake.

Time seemed to be at a standstill, but of course it wasn’t, and March came by surprise. Suddenly I was jobless and carless, all in the same week.

Now it’s just weeks away from the time I had been hoping to leave all along. Back in October it felt like this point would never come. Now I’m wondering how everything will fall into place so I can just buy that plane ticket. And so I’m brought to my knees, because I must face the reality that these things are not in my hands.

“Trust” is an issue I’ve had to wrestle with lately, and the ultimate question I must ask myself is “Do I?” Do I trust the Lord is able to do immeasurably more than all I can ask or imagine? Do I trust that he truly wants to prosper me, not to harm me? Do I trust that he has a perfect plan for me to get to Nicaragua? I think the sobbing on my knees comes because my heart is trying to sort these things out.

So here I am: jobless, carless, and doing everything I can to get myself back to Nicaragua. But I’m having to learn what trust is as well, so even though my head is spinning and my heart is doubting, I will keep bringing myself back to the one who can pick me up, wipe those tears, and get me right back on track to Nicaragua. And I’ll just keep praying it’s by May.