Trusting with Open Hands (and some tears)

It’s May and the goodbyes have already begun.  

For those who read my blogs and have missed me over the past few months, I’ve had a bit of writer’s block.  I need to write, want to write, and just don’t find the words. It's hard because I don't want people to worry about me nor think I'm depressed.  I'm not.  I am actually very healthy.  But if I'm being truthful, I've struggled to find the words -- the right words since December.  In the background of ministry here, I have been dealing with the reality that my life is about to change.  In some senses, I am about to start over... at least for a little while. I've been praying to God for discernment, asking Him for peace and praying for Him to open or close doors according to His will.  

I know God’s calling on my life is missions and to serve the local church full time.  And for the last few years, I’ve understood the need for a strong Biblical base.  I feel a responsibility to know His Word and help encourage and equip others in the Word of God.  So last summer, I visited a seminary.  In December, I applied while crying at the possibility of being accepted and having to leave a place that I love and people whom I love.   I continued to pray for doors to open or close according to His will.  I got accepted.  I knew I could only go if I got a pretty big scholarship.  I applied.  In March, I found out that I had been given a scholarship.  God swung the door wide open.

Breathe. This is really happening.

Today marks exactly 6 years that I moved to the Dominican Republic and in just two weeks I will be moving back to the United States.   While I know that this season is one that God is leading me into and that excitement will happen once I flip the page, this final chapter is a hard one to finish.  

(If you’d like to know more about my decision to go to seminary and how you can help, please email me at acorinnechristian@gmail.com.  I'll also be posting a letter that I sent to supporters with more information in about a week.)

The rest of my post is not a cheerful one.  Like I said, these last few months, while filled with some great moments, have been hard.  And while it may not come through in this post, I am at peace with my decision for the next chapter and sometimes I do get excited.  But at times, I am also a little scared of change and overwhelmed by all of the details.  So right now, I have decided to allow myself to grieve my life here. I'm leaving a place that I love and God is teaching me to trust Him in the midst of it.

I resonate immensely with Paul in 2 Corinthians 12 when he talks about his weakness.  His thorn in his flesh kept him from being conceited and taking the credit for God's work.  Throughout my journey in the Dominican, God has reminded me over and over about my weakness and His strength.  This move is no exception.  I believe that going to seminary is an act of obedience that will enrich God's calling on my life and refresh me so that afterwards I can step right back into ministry.  Right now however, this change feels like a thorn.  It hurts.  So, in this post I boast about my weakness... for where I am weak, He is strong.  May God's power rest on me.

Looking back...

We’re at the Mak House celebrating the end of this literacy cycle.  (The most advanced group isn’t ready to graduate yet.  They need just a few more months to really solidify writing sentences and their fluency.)  I hand out certificates to the volunteers, recognizing two who have had 300 hours of service.  I give some summer homework and books to the women who have made so much progress this cycle.  Ladies begin handing me gifts.  They are nicely wrapped.  What’s happening?  Some are crying. They are hugging me one by one.  One whispers, “I’m going to miss you.” Another says, “Thank you.”  

Tears stream down my face. 

I’m not ready for this.

I'm in Chichigua, the community where I fondly know all of the people, have prayed with most, and feel the most comfortable.  They are the minority. They or their parents or grandparents left their homes to have a better life.  They are sometimes marginalized.  They struggle for papers.  They face a lot of spiritual warfare.  They are the less educated.  Many don’t have jobs. The last few months I have helped one who has some mental health struggles.

They have embraced me as one of their own.  They invite me in to chat, pray, eat, sit, and learn. We’ve worshiped together, cried together and laughed a lot.  

These are the people God has placed most closely in my life.

I’m going to miss them.
I can see the sadness in their eyes too... 

 

 

It’s the last week in May, and I find myself sitting in the small concrete church with the parents from Chichigua. We’re having our last Family Empowerment meeting and it deals with sex. There are lots of problems surrounding this issue and our kids and the communities we serve.  There is little education.  We want to break the cycle.  It will take time.  Andrea and I guide the kids outside. We’ve planned a program so their parents can learn kid-free.   The kids climb up on the boulders.  They get quiet. Eyes staring, I begin telling them the story of Jonah, flipping the pages and asking questions along the way.  They are familiar with the story.  We talk about disobedience and consequences.  We talk about God’s grace and forgiveness. The kids sing two songs about Jonah.  It’s getting dark.  I pull out my tablet and a small speaker to show the 20 minute story.   They’re in a trance.  There are about 20 little ones crouched on the big rocks gazing at the screen that I’m standing up holding.  We hand out crayons and a color sheet.  They spread out closer to homes where there’s light. 

Someone’s asked that I enter the church.   Leaving the kids, I head in a bit confused. I see Jenna and Tatis and the pastor and his wife.  Why are they here? They don't usually come to these meetings. There’s murmuring...  There’s a video.  People begin to cry. They tell me they will miss me. The meeting ends.  Lots of hugs.  Some unhappy looks.  More tears.

This is the second time this week that I find myself in a room of people crying.  The third time that I find myself crying almost uncontrollably.

What’s going on?  Why do I feel this way? I’m in a daze. This is happening way too fast.  I haven’t even told everyone in the States yet.  I just don’t know how I will.  When I tell them I’m leaving, it’s going to become real.  I do not know if I’m ready for this…. 

 

But I know I need to be filled. And some months ago I made a decision — after a lot of prayer and advice. Is this real? I feel overwhelmed.  Have I messed up? Will I regret it?  This has become my home.  These have become my people. I’m leaving them. I have feelings of guilt.  Am I really strong enough to do what I believe God is calling me to do?  I don't want to hurt them. Am I brave enough to leave the people I love, the ministry I love, and start again? What will happen next?  Will I come back? So many tears... and I still have so much time.  It feels like too much.

Trust me.

Breathe.

Just trust me.

I open my hands.

The next few weeks are a blur.  I am finalizing and printing the Adult Literacy curriculum to pass on to Alida, the new literacy coordinator.  The school year is ending.  The school has pre-school graduation and the end-of-year award ceremony.  We have a party and our last Bible Study with the high school girls.  I am asked questions about my going away party. We all go to the beach before many of the Americans head their separate ways for the summer.  They pray for me.

More hugs.  More tears.

It still doesn’t feel real. 
There’s so much time left.
I'm not ready.

It’s mid-June and a group of 30 teachers and Mak Staff have planned a trip to the capital city just to enjoy the beginning of summer.  It could be my last opportunity to do something fun like this with the teachers before I go.  We bike ride in the Colonial Zone.  We eat, laugh and just enjoy one another. 

I’m going to miss these people.

 

Family Empowerment goes on an excursion to end the year as a team.  We go to a small island — a piece of paradise just 2 hours away.  How have I never been here before?  

Oh, I’m going to miss my team!  

They've been my family for the last two years.
I couldn't have done this without them.
We've prayed so much, cried so much, spent so much time together.
I don't know that I want to leave them!
There is still so much to do... 

I spend a week in Family Empowerment meetings to evaluate this year. God is working.  We spend hours thanking Him, reflecting, and thinking about adjustments. 

The next week they plan for next year while I have to clean out my space.  My time with Family Empowerment is coming to in end.  This doesn't feel real.  I don't want to go.  I'm so tired.  All of my things fit in a small plastic box.  I turn in my keys.

I help groups ministry with VBS.  We are in Chichigua with the theme "Jesus is my Superhero. " My energy is low.  I’m exhausted.  Reality is settling in. 

Let me give you rest.

It’s going to be okay.  

Trust me.

I open my hands.  

God, take away my worries... my doubts.  Help me be present and intentional.  Help me enjoy this last month with the people I love. Help me give you the details of this next step and be confident in my decision. Give me physical and emotional rest, God.  I want to believe that You will take care of me. 

Breathe.

I make a list of people I want to spend time with and ways to be intentional. I write down some places that are on my bucket list and start thinking about how I am going to sell my things.  How can I end well?

God, I feel you with me.  
You make me strong.
I'm trying to trust you.

It’s the second week that I'm helping with VBS.  I introduce group members from Texas to my friends in Chichigua.  We pray for God's strength, remembering that we are just His fragile vessels.  We teach the kids about Jesus and His miracles.  We sing!  We dance!  The kids astound us with their ability to memorize verses and their overall interest in God's Word.  I tell the group that many have parents who don't know the Lord.  Seeds are being planted.  God, make a difference in this community through the kids.  I translate for a group member as he shares the Gospel of Jesus with a father.  I know their family struggles spiritually.  He's one of the literacy lady's husbands.  God please help him to see you, to know you.  You could make such a big difference in this home.  I teach the team the happy dance.  It's been a great week!

Thank you for giving me strength.  
Thank you for giving me joy. 

Thank you for giving me peace.

I find myself on a bus on the way back from Quisqueya.  Yulerna, one of the Bible Study girls is next to me. I've taken her with me to Quisqueya to see where I first served.  In the last couple of days I've visited my former Bible Study ladies, the 5 girls that years ago I thought I may adopt, some SCORE missionaries and others with whom I worked at Emmanuel House.  I spend a day at the beach with my friend and sister in Christ, Mirqueya. We relax and enjoy God's creation. 

There is a lot to think about. 
So much has happened in just 6 years.

Reality is hitting me.  

I'm moving...

I don't know when I'll see them again.

God, when will I come back here?

OK, I am choosing to trust you.
Thank you for the people you've given me who love me so much!

  

There are so many things on my list to do.

There are people I want to visit before I leave, kids I want to spend time with.

I cannot believe this change is happening.

I cannot believe the day I leave is almost here.

July 24 is quickly approaching.

I have loved being here -- being in people’s homes, sitting and listening to their stories and praying for and encouraging them.  I have enjoyed sharing about Jesus and what it means to have a relationship with Him.  I have been challenged to truly understand the gospel and be intentional about sharing it and encouraging other Jesus followers to share.  I can see my flaws, my weaknesses and my deep need to always be connected to God. I recognize that my passion is teaching and discipling… kids, teenagers, women... about their true identity.  I love reminding them of who their creator is and how He showed them love by sending His son, Jesus Christ. And reading!  I love helping kids and women learn to read. I want them to have the special opportunity to read God's Word!

... I never thought I would leave this place, God.  At least not now...And yet, I know this is right.  I want to be obedient.

This next chapter is going to be a good one! I want to see what you are going to do with me.  I know You're going to grow me.  I also think the transition is going to be hard.  And, I know You've connected me to these people for a reason.  Lord willing, I will stay connected to the people here, the church and the ministry that I've been serving in.  I cannot see, God, but you see all.

You ask me to trust you, God....
I trust you.

You tell me it’s time to fill up and learn.
I am ready.

You assure me You'll take care of me, go with me and provide for me wherever I go.
I feel you close.

I open my hands, God...
tears streaming down my face.