Entering Free Fall

Two years ago I had the opportunity to jump off of a 15-foot cliff into a Guatemalan river pool. Knees all trembly, I didn’t let myself linger up there on the edge. It was heave-ho and go. The free fall was glorious. And terrifying. Then the water caught me, and I was reoriented with gravity, with the beautiful normality of swimming to shore. Security feels sweet after the risks have paid off and fear has been conquered.

Today is Matt’s last day of work with ProCare3, the therapy company that hired him out of grad school and never looked back. For 14 years he has healed patients, cracking jokes as he encouraged them to tough out exercises that made their lives better. He’s learned to smooth feathers, to finesse situations, to call out the greatness in those around him, and unleash his own. For 14 years the Lord has used this work to provide our roof, our daily bread, and our dreams. And today we say a “Thank you” that doesn’t come close to expressing the blessings we’ve received, and a “Goodbye” that feels like leaving behind half of yourself. Today our feet leave the ledge and we enter free fall.

In five weeks we fly literally. An airplane will carry us to Costa Rica, to the beginning of 5 years spent serving children who weren’t safe living with their families, and hosting teams of people who want to make a difference. Until then, we press through a melee of packing, planning, document gathering, house selling (please, Lord), friend raising, and praying. This is a true leap of faith. Our roof, bread, and dreams are now in the hands of the Lord who put those brown eyes on our hearts. He is able.

At some point, the river of “normal” will catch us again. We will learn the walk to the language school, park, and grocery store. I’ll organize our rented kitchen and fill the freezer with meals. The fragrance of baking cinnamon rolls will waft through a new house and embellish the laughter we’ll share with new friends. In the hang time, we’ll keep our eyes fixed on His light and continue to pray through the veil:

Let us, your servants, see you work again;
    let our children see your glory.
And may the Lord our God show us his approval
    and make our efforts successful.
    Yes, make our efforts successful! Psalm 90:16-17

Come Be A Missionary

The other day we had a special gathering to share some of the details of our calling and to give the children a little taste of what it’s like to be a missionary. Much fun was had by all. Here are some of the highlights.

Some of the fine art made for sharing with friends.

Being a long ways away doesn’t mean we stop being friends. We decorated postcards with cutouts from magazines to make it easier to keep in touch.

Costa Rica is home to over 1,200 known species of butterflies. Some undiscovered varieties were seen flying around the room. Contrary to nature, this one later grew its pipe cleaner body and curly antennae.

If you could only take one suitcase, what would you put in it? Matt’s word problem gave kids a chance to flex their math skills and think it through. Suggestions and approximate weights were given, but remember, your bag can’t weigh more than 50 lbs.

Gallo Pinto is Costa Rica’s signature beans and rice dish, often served at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The primary flavoring, Lizano sauce, makes it quite tasty. We brought a double batch, wondering if the kids would be interested. When I wandered back to the snack table, this is what was left. It looks like all the little Mikeys liked it. We also enjoyed some bananas and oranges because the warm, wet climate makes it easy for them to grow there.

Houses in the tropics are more open because the weather is warm year-round. Often a small gecko will keep you company, usually out of sight, and nibble any bugs that wander in. God created them with a special ability to climb and even run on vertical surfaces. Our beaded versions couldn’t zoom across the walls, but they were still a big hit.

The result: happy faces with a little more understanding of what it’s like to go new places.

Making Angels

After a small saga of delays, our new carpet is finally installed, and the house is one giant step closer to being ready for the market. Considering their future on unyielding tile, the kids took some time to enjoy soft poly fibers on the floor. In the absence of snow, they made carpet angels.

All that exuberant appreciation got me thinking. I’ve been spending time clearing away the old (thank you Craigslist, Goodwill, sanitation engineers, etc.) and working to lay the new (contact lists full of amazing people who want to keep in touch, applications for language school, gatherings and letters to share the vision) of our ministry in Costa Rica. But it was high time to pause for a moment and count the blessings of our calling. So I swirled my thoughts over the goodness of God’s plans for us, and made an angel of gratitude. The wings and wisps are formed by:

The opportunity to make friends from around the world and to share the Lord’s work in their lives as they serve at the Home of Life.

The richness of becoming a bilingual family–although Matt and I will have to come up with a new way to talk “over the kids’ heads.”

The adventure of learning Costa Rican culture and a new way of doing life. Rainy seasons, rambutan fruit, pace of life redefined.

Getting to care for at-risk children and speak blessing over them. I love Matt’s brown eyes, but all our children got my blues. Now I’ll have a host of bright dark eyes to love.

The tremendous gift it is that the Lord wants to use us in this way. Here we are, Lord. Send us.

The support of so many awesome people joining with us in this kingdom work. Kisses to the side of the cheek for all of you.

The chance to trust God for what seems impossible and to see Him provide. He is doing it.

Seeing the talents that He gave us fit like puzzle pieces into a whole new future of walking with Him.

Costa Rica by way of Guatemala–Part 2

Our first taste of Guatemala stretched my comfort zone beyond North American norms. Global missions were no longer just something for other people to do, they were our hands getting dirty, our arms around precious children. We saw God move in teams and through them, and we could not get enough of it. Holding onto 1 Samuel 30:24’s promise that the rewards of victory are shared between the ones who go out and the ones who stay to guard the camp, we supported others as they served in the nations and took more trips ourselves whenever the Lord led us. Over the course of two 10-day men’s teams (one where I went along to help save the guys from their own cooking) and a 4-week family stay, we saw that the Spirit had our compass pointed steadily toward the Home of Life in Costa Rica. We connected with the children and grown-up people there in a way that made us family. Although always excited to go and give my all, I still appreciated being able to come back again afterwards for things like paychecks and doctor appointments.

God spoke to Matt again in the fall of 2008, calling our family to pursue full-time ministry there in the land of rainforests, to host teams and do life with the people we loved. Matt had his arms wide open, waiting for the fulfillment of the promise. Expecting the third wonderful addition to our family in the coming spring, I was again in a “no reception zone.” As Ezekiel learned how to sleep through the night and tottered his first steps, the Lord Himself took up the “can you hear me now?” process, gradually bringing up my volume level. There was a lot of change to acclimate to, where I had been content with the status quo. Over the months He reminded me of all the ways I had been prepared for this calling, of the hope to fully go and serve that I didn’t even admit to myself. But still it was hard to release the life I already knew to take our family into the unknown.

We thought it was a celestial joke when Matt and I were asked to lead a team to Guatemala in the summer of 2011, and friends who had served for months at a time in Guatemala took their team to Costa Rica. A divine episode of trading spaces? Ministry swap? Definitely humorous, but profoundly powerful. Our first impression upon returning to Guatemala after five years away was a longing for the tiny cabina and the other brown eyes on our hearts. Sharing new experiences with our team, God’s work surrounding us, and the dear people of Guatemala were all a delight. We coiffed hair with sparkly barrettes and shared a nonverbal gospel skit in two mountain villages, jumped off of cliffs into the river pool with the children, blew bubbles across hillsides, played soccer (badly), and hemmed pajama pants. We roared with laughter at one person’s mistaken purchase of a beer rather than the soda she wanted from a gas station, the transformation of another person from reserved to gregarious at 8:00 p.m. each evening, and the daylong comedic stylings of our team humorist. We rallied around one team member as she stepped into her gift of prophetic insight and another as she became comfortable with praying aloud in a group. But we knew with certainty that Costa Rica was the focal point of God’s plan for us.

Spending time with Norm and Vickie Sutton, the missionaries who host teams at the Home of Life in Guatemala, was the pinnacle of the trip for me. We knew them affectionately from that first trip back in 2006, and wanted to hear more about their recent launch to serve full-time. It wasn’t hard to spot the divine setup. Their testimony with its difficulties and encouragement harmonized with the Lord’s persistent whisper in my heart. I was undone by the clarity of the 5-bar signal. If the Lord was so faithful to them as they walked this path, He would be faithful to us. Tears flowed. I surrendered my “no”–the desire to stay in the predictable security of our life in the States–and gave the Lord my “I will.” Change my heart again, Lord, to want what You want. The trust fall began.

The creativity of the one who made the flowers and the heavens still amazes me. Only He would use a trip to Guatemala to spark the pilot light on our calling to Costa Rica, and then 5 years later, ignite the burner in those same mountains. “We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps” Proverbs 16:9. What a privilege to see what He will use that fire to refine in us and inspire in others over the next 5 years.

Pretty maids at the school after we styled their hair with sparkly barrettes.

Chasing Bubbles is fun for all ages.

Showing off the bead bracelets she just made.

Don’t tell OSHA.

The play equipment started to rust before it was primed. Team to the rescue.

Could you ever get tired of this view?

Two brave girls taking the high places. Without a good coat of paint, the roof will quickly rust through.

Matt’s quiet time one morning.

Corn Tortillas made with love by hand every day.

Putting on the charm for the team.

Happy girl, well-loved.

Believe it or not, this was the smaller cliff we jumped from.

Costa Rica by way of Guatemala–Part 1

Learning the Windows 8 operating system has reminded me of some of my as-yet-unredeemed character traits. When things don’t work the way I expect them to–or don’t work at all–I can get my grumble on. It’s easy to assume that if something isn’t doing what it’s supposed to, it’s a Windows 8 glitch (of which there are many). I spent days irritated at the lack of sound on my laptop’s video application before Matt discovered that the volume default was set to mute.

Similarly, back in 2006, my spiritual ear was set on mute with regard to global missions. Matt went a gentle nine rounds with my “no” when the Lord spoke to him about the two of us serving in Guatemala that summer. Who would take care of our kids for 10 days? How would it feel to leave them for so long? Where would the funds come from? Would we need shots? It was all just too messy to pursue. Grumble. Exasperated with the direction I couldn’t hear, I eventually went to the source and huffed out a “Lord!” His still, small voice asked me, “Do you want My way or your way?” My heart squinched up it’s little face, balled it’s fists, and proclaimed, “I want MY way!” Then, knowing where that rebellion would lead in the end, my self-righteousness deflated. I repented. That moment I became close friends with a prayer that has changed my life over the years since, and will surely serve me well the rest of my days: “Lord, help me to want what You want. Help me to want Your way.”

We signed on for the trip and I emotionally muscled my way through the first meeting. Over nachos with the leaders after the second gathering, I enjoyed a revelation with my queso: this was going to be a lot of fun. So I put my shoulder to the yoke, and we got busy. Letters written, Psalm 91 prayed, skirts scored via Goodwill, vaccinations updated, culture-adjustment book read, and a lot of laughter shared. The Lord overwhelmed us with encouragement and provision–enough to pay all of our expenses and another team member’s as well. As we lingered over goodbyes at their grandparents’ house, our children were eager to begin the special time with people they loved. Our then 4-year old daughter gently took my hand and interrupted the conversation with a loving, “I want you to go now.” All cleared for takeoff.

We set off on the trip that opened our lives to serve beyond the box of our language, culture, and comfort. Many lessons were learned: how to brush your teeth with bottled water, how to pace yourself during days filled with activity, how to tailor four formal dresses with a few needles and a lot of God-inspired creativity, how to look around for the hot water knob in the shower <shiver>, how to be content with your assignment and not covet your husband’s, how to NEVER AGAIN drink a large shake before a 3-hour restroom-less drive up the mountain.

We could see the impact of our love and effort. Four young ladies were celebrated at a beautiful coming of age quinceañera (fifteenth birthday fiesta). A developmentally delayed baby girl made so much progress than Matt had to credit the Lord’s goodness rather than his own physical therapy skills. The local women were treated to an afternoon tea complete with spa treatments, gifts, and a time of worship where the Lord spoke to them about uniting in spirit despite their different congregations. The courtyard wall shared with the town’s prosperous witch doctor was fortified with prayer.

And perhaps most important of all, my heart grew. It occurred to me for the first time that English might not be God’s favorite language. I fell in love with the brilliant colors and stoic expressions of people who lived in a simplicity I had never considered before, with the beauty of mountains and cultures that I had yet to ascend.