waiting on the Lord

 Today was a day...after a lot of those kind of days. 

I'm thankful for how the Lord was in it. 

Every day has dawned differently for our Haiti trip...I've packed and unpacked. Prepared and stopped preparing. Prayed and waited. I've purchased and piled. I've prepped and scheduled and alerted teachers and tutors and appointments, changed...coved...asked for help. My closet is full for Haiti, our plans shifted again and again due to very limited flights, and we have to be on the plane Thursday.  This Thursday.

Knowing this--with packing, covid testing, and a 12 hour road trip ahead of us--I finally told the Lord Friday that I couldn't wait on Him much longer. 

I had to know by Sunday night, tonight, if we were going or not...so I'd have Monday to pack and Tuesday to test and drive.

And when we woke up this morning we still had NO idea. 

Yes, the kidnappings. 

Yes, the lack of police / leadership / law. 

Far more, the fuel shortage. 

It's no joke.  Cell phone service is down to a few hours a day. Not only are schools and stores and gas stations and businesses closed, but hospitals and clinics finally are, too. 

But Emmaus was still saying come. Missionary friends were unsure. Sharon, Matt and I were unsure. 

I know you've been praying.

And I walk into church today and Elijah starts a new series on "The Good Work" and preaches on burdens. 

Do we have one? Are we too distracted and flighty and surface for a burden? Are we missing the burden He has for us? Do we carry it? Cry out to God over it? Are we fasting and praying for it? Persevering with it? Are we ready to carry it, whatever it costs? Launched into the lives of William Wilberforce and then our much studied Adonirah Judson, including the loss of three wives, six children, and dying entirely unknown and uncared for...with 500,000 Burmese Christians due to his work. 

I started crying at the question "Do you have a burden?" and could barely get through the service. 

Did I take you on this roller coaster of back and forth? the Lord seemed to ask me. Or have you been rooting into the voices of men, thrown about by every spray of information, fear and opinion?

I leaned over to Matt, and we both agreed that the Lord had clearly not told me NO, and had clearly opened this window AND given me the two fleeces I'd insisted on...Sharon going, and open flights in certain windows. 

I suddenly and genuinely and FINALLY stopped being concerned about different elements, stopped trying to weigh all the pros and cons, stopped thinking about all the thoughts of others, and breathed my first real breath of peace over the whole thing in several weeks.

If the LORD wasn't closing the door, I wasn't ridding one more wave. I could trust Him. I will trust Him. I have tomorrow to pack. I will go through the open door. 

Matt was with me, and so was Sharon.

I emailed our overnight points and confirmed. I emailed the airline and confirmed. 

I had already emailed the Emmaus president on my way to church, asking him his final thoughts before we headed there, all his messages so far positive, and "Please come."

While I sat in the second service glowing with my peace, Guenson texted me back: I hate to even think about saying this to you, but I have no reason to think things will be better this week...and lots of reasons to think they will be somehow even worse. Please plan for early January.

I texted him again: no no, we feel good, we're ready. 

He texted back what will have to be my new peace: There is no fuel, none anywhere. If it stays like this people will continue to be more and more upset and riot more and more. We cannot bring you in knowing where no fuel this week will lead.

The Lord brought me to a full place of trusting in Him, finally...and moments later I'm trusting in Him for NOT what we had thought or planned nor what I had been ready to obey.

I hate that our brothers and sisters are in this. 

I hate that they don't even have for themselves what is needed for us to come alongside.

I hated answering the bedtime, "how many more days?" with "lots".

I hate praying from afar, and I hate waiting on the Lord to work when I thought maybe I could do a little work with Him.

I hate telling our family no, no, not this week after all...your daily reality is just too challenging for my ten days. 

I hate folding shirts and making muffins and teaching algebra and checking on neighbors and friends from my kitchen when it feels like my living room is ON FIRE...trying to fast and pray hard in one world while living and loving presently in another. 

I hate all this waiting and praying and preparing to go home, and staying home, instead.

But dang it.

I have a burden.  Not an irritation, not a pet-peeve, not a cause-of-the-month, not a fleeting fancy.

And I am going to carry it, I am going to keep fasting, I am going to keep praying, I am going to keep weeping with those who weep, I am going to keep letting the burden He's given me shape me, stretch me, grow me.

And I'm gonna keep waiting on the Lord, with Haiti.