How Great is our God part 2

            On to part 2 of the week God rocked my world. Monday was wrapping up as I tried to finish my daily paperwork, when a co-worker approached me and asked if I would be interested in going to Jamaica with a group of local doctors. I told her I would be interested in learning more details about the trip, i.e. cost, dates, what I’d be doing, etc. As she began to describe the purpose of the trip, I knew it was something I would love to do, but as more details emerged I knew there were a few major roadblocks to making the trip a reality: a) my passport had been missing for the last 6 months, b) the week the trip was scheduled immediately followed a PTO freeze due to upgrades in our documenting system and we were already short staffed, c) the doctors were planning to leave in less than 2 weeks. And so the prayers began.

            When I first began my job in October, I was required to bring my driver’s license and a second form of photo identification to prove that I truly was who I said I was, so I brought my passport. After they made a copy of it and returned it to me, I made sure to put it somewhere safe. Turns out it was somewhere really safe because when my parents announced an international family vacation to celebrate their 35^th anniversary, I tried to remember where that safe place was and so began the search. I searched my desk at work, my desk at home, all the bags I brought to and from work, my car, and even all my jacket pockets. I would start a new search every month or two, rechecking each place I’d looked the times before in hopes that it would miraculously appear. This is why finding that passport became the first item I began to pray about. If God truly wanted me on this trip, we’d have to find the passport first. When I returned home Monday night, I went to through the same routine of searching in all the places it could be at my apartment, but it was still safe and nowhere to be found. When I got to work on Tuesday, I started emailing the doctor heading up the trip to learn more details, but was hesitant to commit since my passport was still missing. During some free time, I decided to search my desk again, from top to bottom. I looked through all my notes, folders, books and papers I’d accumulated in the last 6 months with no luck. When I got to the bottom drawer to go through each folder individually, like I had before, I happened to glance toward the front. There, standing upright, safely tucked between the front of the drawer and the raised bottom, was a small navy blue teepee. I did a small happy dance and squeal of delight at my discovery. With my passport now in hand, I knew that God wanted me to go on this trip so I had to be obedient and ask for the time off, even if it was a long shot.

            Once I knew the dates of the trip, I sent an email to my supervisor, officially requesting the time off. I also sent an email to the members of my small group requesting that my friends pray that God would work everything out if I am supposed to go on this trip. Over the next couple days, I received emails and texts, letting me know that each person was praying. I also received an email from my supervisor saying that my time off was denied, we were just too short staffed and it was too close to the date of departure to move things around. I understood and sent an email to the doctor I’d been in contact with thanking him for the opportunity and to keep me in mind for future trips. The next day, one of my co-workers said she heard I was going to Jamaica. I was a little confused until my supervisor told me that they would be able to work it out so I could go on the trip. I guess the doctor made a phone call to request my time off as well and they were able to convince a couple other physical therapists to cover my time so I will be able to go down to Jamaica with the group. I leave next Tuesday!

            I am still in awe of how God worked everything out. He taught me that He is so much bigger than I can imagine and capable of accomplishing seemingly impossible things. He also showed me that I am surrounded by an incredible support system of great Christian men and women. My friends and family encouraged me and lifted me up in prayer all week long and together we were able to celebrate his amazing blessing. As I prepare this weekend to go on the trip, I would ask for your prayers as well. Pray that God would prepare the way for the work that we are going to do at the clinic and that the people who need our services would find a way to get there. Pray for his protection as we travel to, from and within Kingston. Pray for the people that I will be traveling with, I don’t know any of their stories or motivation for the trip. Pray for good conversation and relationship building opportunities. And pray that God would be glorified through this trip and everything that we do. I hope you all have a fantastic weekend and I can’t wait to share what God is up to in Jamaica when I get back!

How great is our God part 1

This week, God has rocked my world with reminders of how big and incredible and faithful He is.  I have 2 stories to tell, one is the 10 year anniversary of one of the first times I began to understand the faithfulness of God, and the second is an amazing turn of events that I am still trying to process and understand that happened this week. Because I can be long winded in my story telling, this will be a 2-part entry.  I’ll start with the story from my past and in the next post, relay the events that occurred this week to spark an incredible adventure that will be taking place in 10 days.

            Ten years ago, on May 10 to be exact, was my junior Prom. I’d been given the go ahead my surgeon to start walking without crutches after six weeks of using them to get around following my third knee surgery.  I was instructed to continue wearing my knee brace while walking for 6 more weeks, but thankfully my dress had enough puff to it cover up. I was going with a boy I’d been flirting with for awhile and was sweet enough to ask me even though we weren’t sure if I’d be able to attend crutch-free until the week before the dance. I was going in a group with a bunch of my close friends and we’d gone all, out renting a limo and a hot tub for the after Prom party. My grandma had even given me money to get my hair and nails done professionally. I could hardly wait for the day to come.

            My grandma, my mom’s mom, was a very special grandma. She attended every single soccer game, hockey game, track meet, choir concert, play, orchestra concert, and major life event that my brother, sister, and I had. For the games and events that were recorded to be broadcast on the local cable station, you could always pick out her voice, offering words of praise and encouragement. She would often stop by in the afternoons when we were done with school to say hello and bring us treats. She owned a cabin in northern Minnesota that she shared with us, making us feel like it was our own.  She worked hard around the property to keep it looking beautiful, but always took time to swim with us in the lake or take us into town for ice cream. Every birthday, we would wake up to chocolate donuts in the refrigerator and a bouquet of flowers, just so we knew she was thinking of us. She was never too busy to chat or show how much she loved us.

            My grandma started getting sick when I was a sophomore in high school. I knew it was cancer, but at the time I didn’t really understand what that meant. I knew that she lost her hair during chemotherapy and that she was more tired than usual, but she continued to come to all of our events, so I thought that it must not have been too bad. She even came to Florida when I went on choir tour to Disney World the Spring of my sophomore year. The week before Prom, she was in the hospital and I went to visit her. I wanted to show her my professionally manicured nails that she had graciously paid for and my Prom dress. She loved them and kept telling me how beautiful I was. I was still using the crutches for balance occasionally, so my secret plan was to stop by the hospital on the day of Prom, once my hair was all done and I was more steady on my feet, so she could get the full effect of how I would look that night. After my morning hair appointment, I went home to pick up my dress before heading back up to the hospital. The only thing was, everyone was home. That whole week, nobody was ever home all at the same time. There was always someone up at the hospital to sit with my grandma so she wouldn’t be alone. But when I returned from the salon, there they all were. My dad then informed me that my grandma had passed away. First I was shocked, because I had no idea she was that sick. And then I started crying. I started crying and I couldn’t stop. For those of you who know me, this probably isn’t a surprise because I am a crier by nature. It’s not uncommon for me to cry at the mention of a Hallmark commercial. But this day, I cried for a long time. So long, that I decided I didn’t want to go to Prom anymore. My eyes were all puffy and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to keep the tears from spilling out. My family convinced me that my grandma would have wanted me to go and I had to work really hard to stop crying so I could enjoy myself.  But every time I tried to stop, something else would remind me that my beloved grandma was gone.

            Finally, about half an hour before it was time to meet my date where we were going to take pictures, my mom suggested we pray. We prayed that the tears would stop and I would have a fun night with my friends, because that’s what my grandma would have wanted. After the prayer, I got up, washed my face, put on my make-up, and headed out the door to meet everyone. I didn’t cry the rest of the night, it was almost like I was unable to. My friends, most of whom knew my grandma, and my date were supportive and helped me to focus on being present in the moment and enjoy every aspect of the night.  We rode our limo around town ending at a steakhouse for a delicious dinner. We entered a hotel conference room that had been transformed into a magical oasis of friends, music, and twinkling lights. And we danced and laughed the night away, taking way too many pictures that I still have tucked away in albums somewhere. I loved every minute of it.

            My grandma taught me that life is about sharing moments together. She was always there to support me, ready and willing to share her love through the precious gift of time. The night was more special because of the legacy she left behind. Through the experience, God taught me that He is bigger than any emotional breakdown I can throw at Him. When I rely on Him for strength, I can do anything. He wasn’t satisfied with being my rock for one night, but continued to show His strength the whole next week. My grandma asked if I would sing at her funeral, and while I never made it through a rehearsal without breaking down and crying, God kept my voice strong until the very last verse of the very last song as her casket was rolled down the aisle. To a 17-year-old girl with no control over her emotions, the way God carried me through the experience and kept my emotions in check, laid a firm foundation of trust in his faithfulness and strength that I’ve since been able to rely on whenever life has spun out of my control.

            As for what happened this week? He is building upon that foundation he laid for me as a teenager, revealing in awesome and incredible ways that He is still in control. I just need to trust and rely on his strength for whatever comes next But that will have to be a story for next time…

Be blessed friends!