God’s whisper « The Good News Family

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.

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.