part 2 of " a peek into our journey"

During my teen years I so enjoyed going to mission conference. It was inspiring and captivating. Somewhere by stepping through that door you were taken from America,  to the middle of Africa, where all people ate was rice. And carried water on their heads. Where there were biggggg snakes and scary rituals and demon possessed people  but where God's power was so real that lives were changed in the name of Jesus.
They preached messages of how we need to give our lives for the sake of the Gospel. Give up all to go and serve Him.

And it wasn't that they didn't talk about those serving in the inner city.
And I'm sure they talked about being faithful where we are.
But somehow I would so often leave feeling like it was in the far away- foreign lands that it was really counted as being a missionary.

I didn't think I'd marry anyone that wasn't pursuing foreign missions, and even better, Haiti.

Fast forward a few years. I'm driving down the road and see a billboard advertisement for a little discount grocery outlet.  Sounded kinda like the one I was working at in a completely different area; miles away. I'll skip a bunch  of details to say the guy I met across the checkout counter that day eventually became my husband.
And he wasn't even interested in Haiti.

But he loved God. He was serving him faithfully in that little grocery store. Every customer mattered to him. He listened to many hurting and lonely hearts.
He gave tangibly to those who had needs. He loved to minister in special ways.... carrying groceries to a car, or Christmas caroling to customers ( of whom many were more like friends ) 

God was so good to give me this man. And to show me that a missionary is not a missionary, unless he is surrendered and busy  in the Father's work, right where God places him. It's not the PLACE, it's the HEART  that makes a missionary.  So how is it that we are, Lord willing, moving to Haiti in a few months?

Part 1 of "A peek into my journey"

I have been thinking a lot about blogging... why I blog and what I expect from my blog. Lots of thoughts going on here.
One area I want to grow in is being vulnerable enough to share a little more personally. That can be risky you know:) But God has been so good to me, and if what He has done in my life can bless or inspire YOU, then He will be blessed.

So, today I am starting a series of posts about one strand in my lifes tapestry. I stand amazed at how God can take one little life, and set in course HIS PLAN. My journey here is not perfect, but it is amazing and unique. And best of all, He is not finished with me (which turns into US, yet.) Its an exciting thing, to follow God. Its also scary sometimes, stretching, and sometimes, very hard. But its always worth it and its always, always laced with His. Amazing. Grace.



here we go... part 1


For as long as I can remember, even as a child, Haiti captivated me. When I was a wee child, I was there with my parents; could something have started a seed of desire in me  even then? 
My growing up years were years of ample opportunity to grow my independent and adventurous personality, and so, it wasn't a surprise that when an opportunity came for me to take a visit to Haiti at the young age of 15, my parents left me go.
My desire was fueled. I remember crying as we bumped out that long trail out the mountains. I wanted to stay.
Two more opportunities came and more of my heart stayed. During one of those trips I worked in a clinic, and now was I not only in the country I loved, with the Haitian people, but I was also working my dream as a nurses assistant. I was able to hold those chocolate drops and shower love into their little hearts, and my heart for children swelled.

I came home and worked several jobs, including   being a CNA. I traveled to several other countries, but none held my heart even close to what Haiti did.

During these years I attended several mission confrences. Somehow you could step across the threshold of that door and enter into Africa, or Haiti or other places across the big pond. Places where living was hard, but simple, where people sat by smokey fires to cook their food and where children ran around ragged but soaked up a smile and some love like a dry sponge.   Where they needed the Gospel, and nurses, and.....
it felt like the epitome of  a life well lived for God.

I know this was a personal perspective. They didn't intentionally make it sound like your life here didn't count. But I felt like that. A REAL missionary lived  in foreign lands.
God needed to reach me what mission work REALLY was. :)

Birds eye view.....

Memories with my dear Papa.
I treasure muchly.