fierce to be

"I'm so glad to finally be going home," Lily announced at dinner, "but now that it's time, I feel sad."

Ah, Lily. We're in this together.

Playing with cousins at the playground, sitting around the dinner table tonight with pork and sweet potatoes and family, listening to Evie jabber her sweet thoughts.

It's hard.     

It's hard jamming it all into 50 pound suitcases, it's hard saying goodbye, hard always missing someone, hard always missing something.

As if last day, packing day, good-bye day, lasts day wasn't hard enough, we had it sprinkled with four dentist appointments and a visit to the oral surgeon. 

Which felt like the LAST thing we needed.  

But in the end, sitting in the dentist chair, God in-the-nick-of-time gave me my peace.  His peace.

They wanted me to come in again next week.  I told them I'd be out of the country.  They asked for the week after that, and I told them I wouldn't be back for a year.  

They were not amused.  For this is not the best way for bad teeth.

When the dentist left, the dental hygienist asked me why I couldn't get much dental work done where I lived, and I started to try to explain.  Without giving me more than a minute, she shook my arm a little and said, 

"You need to be careful, you know.  Are you careful? Because you need to be careful. I had a patient once who went to Africa, somewhere, and when he came back he brought me a picture.  And in the pictures, the houses, they had dirt floors!  Dirt floors and sticks! I've never seen anything like it.  It was awful. You need to be really careful.  And you should tell those people they need to floss every single day.  That prevents all kind of problems."

I definitely didn't tell her about the girls.  I didn't ask her where the floss was coming from, or the toothpaste, or the brushes, or the clean water.  I didn't tell her anything more, actually.  

But I felt suddenly renewed in my called, something fierce.  He has us right THERE for a reason.  For a million.  And NONE of them are to BE CAREFUL.

I didn't feel fierce  tell anyone about dental floss they don't have.  And I did not feel fierce to be careful.

I felt fierce to give people, people with dirt floors, heavens, His great love.  I felt fierce to help, not help spread the word about gingivitis, but to spread the Word of the hope we have in Christ.  I felt fierce to BE a sister and friend, to be a dweller-of-that-which-matters, a person of passion for people's hearts.

I felt renewed conviction to be Godly and close to Him, to be pouring out His great grace and sacrificial love on others, I felt fierce to be in the middle of dirt floors and dark homes and LIVE, freely, giving, freely.  Not being afraid.  Not focusing on careful.  

I am fierce to be abandoned to Him in a place He has. NOT. abandoned.  

  

I'm so thankful for the calling reminder today. I'm thankful to call those houses the homes of my friends, thankful to have the ability for dental care that countless many will NEVER have, thankful to have Jesus burning in my heart, thankful for each and every chance to share Him, thankful that He is, He is, He is what is needed.

And I'm thankful for these beautiful five, freely sharing their home and groceries and toys and friendship this past five weeks as "home base America", having the crazy of us coming and going and coming and going.  They are precious to us, friends and family both.

My "Thankful for my days in America" list is long and coming, but 5 am comes early and the day tomorrow is l-o-n-g...from Philadelphia to Haiti in 12 hours. Pray for an incredibly boring travel day!  Thank you, gracious ones, for always entertaining my heart.

Find a dirt-floor heart today, precious in His sight, and be a friend.