A Place Called Home

For many, home is a place with floors, four walls, windows and a door.  It is merely a place to live.

For some, home is nothing more than that.

Perhaps home has people in it, and/or pets.  Maybe fake house plates were chosen instead.

Home might be a place, but it can also be a person, or a feeling, a thing, a memory, a smell, or anything else or anyone else that (who) makes them feel connected, safe and loved.

They may not see home every day, but when they do, they know--they are HOME.

Home

All too many in our broken world long for home. Sadly, they do not have that connection and love which makes a home.

My own home is Shawn and our boys.  As much as we love our 4 walls, all they provide and everything inside, as long as my family and our pets are safe, I know we would be okay.  It wouldn't easy, but we would be okay. 

I'll be honest: Goodbyes were the hardest part

However, as I discovered the very moment my feet hit the earth when I disembarked the airplane last summer, home for me is also Jamaica.  I knew the second we landed, I belonged there.  I had heard it said before, missionaries tend to know their 'home turf'--where their heart belongs--straight away.  I didn't really believe it until I experienced it firsthand, even before meeting our children at the orphanage.  The missionary in question may work in other places due to the need, God's call, or personal desire, but there is always that one place which calls them back.  It occupies serious headspace, and even more heartspace, the missionary thinks about it daily, prays constantly, and is always looking for ways to go back.

That said, I have been eager to explore other countries and other mission fields, so when a trip to Peru for February 2019 opened up, I was all in.  I've seen pictures, I've heard testimonies and stories--let's do this!!!  I started my vaccination process, had everything on track--and completely missed the application deadline.

Okay, so Peru wasn’t God’s plan for me.  I was a bit bummed, but I’ve learned there is always my plan vs God’s plan when it comes to missions work and disaster relief/response (ever since I was trying to get pregnant with Ezra 6 years ago, and God kept slamming the door in my face each time a missions trip opened up in our church, and I knew I could not be newly pregnant during such a trip), and I’ve really been praying (asking, pounding God’s door, being a brat…)—what’s going on here?  Because I have to know, I always need the reason, there must be a reason and I. HAVE. TO. KNOW.  What’s Your plan?  Am I just supposed to stay here right now because of everything going on with Avery?  Concentrate my efforts on my family?  Is there something else?  Is God worried—knowledgable—I wouldn’t be able to concentrate my efforts on preparing for this trip properly because of Avery? Then a friend of ours from church told Shawn how disappointed he was he  wouldn’t get to work with me in Peru because he’d been looking forward to it. That felt like such a pat on my head!  Working with him in WVA, I adore him and the other contractors, how they work so patiently with those of us less (not) skilled, how they work with and around my kids, and for him to heap that praise on me—WOW.   It was then I did allow myself to be more than a little bummed about not being able to go to Peru.  And really—with everything going on with Avery, this mama needs a break.  If I'm going to be honesty, I was a little sad to be missing out, but for many of the wrong reasons.  I need a break, I need something to look forward to.  I just really, REALLY need a mission trip, disaster trip, SOMETHING (oh hey, hurricane season is coming up....).  Selfishly, these are the trips that recharge me.

Then our church made an announcement for an upcoming trip to Jamaica.

I'm sorry, what???

Oh my gosh—I had tears!  My home!  I’m going back to Jamaica!!  Shawn turned to me and whispered “You’re going. I’ll put in for vacation on Monday so I can stay home with the kids.”  God said the same thing.  He told me this was His plan all along!  I would love to explore other countries, but I BELONG in Jamaica.  I can’t even type that without crying!

LET'S GET THIS PLANE OFF THE GROUND!!!!

The trip isn't to see my babies, sadly, and yes, I'm more than a little heartbroken over it.  I promised them I will be back, and I plan to make good on that promise, no matter how many mountains I have to move. In the meantime, I’m laughing at God’s insane humor; we will be facilitating women's conferences, and going into homes to privately pray with women.  If you know me, you know I hate women’s conferences about as much as I hate moms groups (go ahead and laugh, those of you who have been in my moms group!)!!!  I'm also incredibly shy and self-conscious about praying with/over others, but looking back, I can see how God has been preparing me for this moment.  God really sat me up straight and spoke to me about this, though—if we are to prevent these young girls from becoming orphans, and prevent these young women and moms from turning their children into orphans, we have to start by building these women up, and teaching them their worth.  We must give them the building blocks for their own lives, so they can, in turn, give them to their own children.

Beyond all of that, the most important thing is what I will be bringing home.  The many things these women will teach me.

Oh my gosh, shivers and tears!!!  Praise God!!!  I’m going home.  I'm going home.  I'M GOING HOME!!!  I have faith I will see my precious babies another time.  Perhaps God will even surprise me and I might have a chance to see my babies this trip.  Until then, as Noah said, I'm off to “make” new babies!

Thank you Jesus, for this incredible opportunity.  I promise you I will not waste it.