DAY #40
APRIL 28TH 2011
BELIZE OR BUST
Jennie: (May 2010) Hey Victoria, I'm going on a short term mission trip to Haiti in August, think you can come?
Me: Oh yea sure, and maybe a monkey will shoot out of my....well..... nose.
This seemed to be the most ridiculous question I have ever been asked.
I'm not a Missionary.
Who would watch the kids?
We have no money for this.
Would I have to stop shaving my armpits and get a pair of Birkenstocks?
Couldn't even remember at the moment where Haiti was.
Why would anyone want to risk getting sick or a disease or something.
What on Earth do I have to offer some strangers who don't even speak my language.
ME: Jennie, have you been drinking?
Jennie: No, but I'm definitely going, I think it will be awesome. Just pray about, we have time.
Our conversation was still on my brain when I get home. Wash, dishes, checking on kids, picking up after kids, raiding the fridge for snacks. All of these duties have me walking past my HUGE wipey marker prayer board. Finally after ten or so trips past, I stop long enough to scribble Haiti in red on the bottom left corner. I'm hesitate to see it officially on "The Board" but it's too late. The freaky scent of the dry erase marker has already left the room.
Vanished from the air, straight to my heart.
I stop for a minute, homework folders could wait. I stop to pray. Not about the money or childcare but I pray that Baby Daddy wouldn't think I had been drinking all afternoon, when I eventually in a few days brought up the subject.
Well, as GOD would have it. He opened up ALL the doors.
Baby Daddy was caught off guard but OK with it.
The cost of my trip was paid, donated anonymously.
My sister and her crew offered, well agreed happily to watch the kids.
My passport arrives in the nick of time, just days before leaving.
At this point a NO BRAINER
Haiti or Bust
Let's roll
I've written a few posts about my first Mission trip. Haiti was actually the reason this blog was started. Way to much stuff laid heavy on my brain and heart upon returning. My $2.99 clearance journal never left my side, a constant companion. A faithful listener. I look at it now, sitting on top of the family printer as I type. My heart beats faster as I get a glimpse of the cheesy flower printed cover. Memories still so fresh. Only fifty or so scribbled on, worn out pages. This special notebook safely contains the words, emotions and experiences which have changed my life forever.
They were long sad weeks before I came out of my reverse culture shock funk. Where on earth did the happy-go-lucky Victoria go? I eventually did get my smile back but have yet to find the old me. Honestly, I'm not looking for her. If I had to take a guess she is probably walking around the Haiti airport. Eyes as wide as saucers, mouth on the ground. Oh man, we ain't in Kansas anymore.
Post Haiti me wants to be challenged. Not with easy stuff like laundry and car lines. Hard stuff. Challenges of the heart. Meaningful, life changing stuff.
Fast forward a few months. I find myself sitting in a Church meeting, a meeting about a Mission trip to Belize. A family trip. Whoa. Crazy pre Haiti thoughts fill my brain. Not even really sure why I went.
This trip is for the 'Hug a tree' type people
This trip would be too hard to work out.
This trip with kids? Too dangerous.
This trip also comes with tarantulas.
Nope, not for me.
Yeah sure I will pray about it BUT I already know the answer.
I mean, GOD knows the answer. He knows the next challenge in store for me.
He's got a game plan. He's got game.
The kids are excited about the idea. I leave the big fat hairy spider details out of it.
Nine year old Delaney is totally stoked. She asks me almost every morning.
So, Mom. What did GOD say? Are we going to Belize?
I smile and take a deep breathe. Well honey, that's not exactly how it works. I mumble a few in- concise sentences. She doesn't seem to notice I'm not exactly sure how it works either.
Pray, Listen, React.
Sounds easy enough.
Take charge, organized, almost sort of at times bossy Delaney gets a plan together.
Selling goodie bags at away soccer games.
Exchanging Birthday gift cards for cash.
Planning lemonade sales and writing a letter to mail to friends and family.
On a Mission before the Mission trip.
Hasn't complained once about the work involved.
Six year old team mate Drexel lends his special skills. Spitting and the interest of licking anything disgusting, including envelopes.
I wanna be realistic and straight up. I explain to the kids. We will mail, pray and wait. People will give if they can. Let's not be disappointed.A few days later I hear a very exuberant chant.
God's doing it! God's doing it!
Delaney runs into the kitchen, waving a check above her head. A little out of breathe from sprinting all the way inside from the mailbox.
What? What? What? Doing what?
It's a $100 Mom! $100 dollars and a note, they are proud of me. They said they would never have enough guts to go on a Mission trip at nine years old.Post Haiti me is much much mushier. I cry a lot more, at times I least expect it. Not stopping to wipe my soapy hands, or my tears I grab her and tell her.....
YES babes HE is doing it and I too am proud of you. Not really positive about everything I was doing at age nine. Let's see, I had an unattractive awkward bowl hair cut, bad handwriting and NO knowledge what so ever of a world that existed outside of my little 3rd grade bubble.
I think Delaney wants challenges too!
Gonna take her to the store tomorrow, to pick out a journal of her choice. To take with us to Belize. Maybe, just maybe a journal and a trip that will change her life.
A copy of Delaney's Letter
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