Overwhelming Generosity

This morning I went to the dentist again. This was my 6th visit to the doctor since I returned home last April. And this is the 6th time that my bill was generously and miraculously covered. You see my insurance in the US isn't great, so when I have to go to the doctor, I usually put it off and save up, then I go in and pray every procedure is simple and cheap.

But every time I have done this, someone else has insisted on covering the cost. It's humbling, overwhelming, surprising every time. To think that so many people would find me worthy of their generosity, and would invest in my health at their own personal expense makes no sense to me.

I cry every time it happens.

By this point, I estimate my summer medical bills somewhere between 1000 and 1500 dollars, all covered. And on top of that, I've had people do everything from treating me to coffee to buying me new clothes to helping with school loans. I wish I could say that I've kept tabs on it all and have a repayment plan all set up. I don't.

And maybe that's not the point. You see accepting generosity and grace isn't something that comes naturally to me. I come from a home of two hard-working parents who would help us kids when we needed it, but ultimately expected us to work for what we need.

So when I found myself in a position where I was working (as a missionary) but my work wouldn't cover my own need, I looked for ways to work more, earn more. Still what I could do on my own wasn't enough. No matter how hard I worked, I needed Grace.

The spiritual parallels are incredible. How silly of me to plan and strive and scheme and think I can do it on my own. And how tender, loving, and generous of God to raise up people to take care of my every need. Though I still wish I could pay for my own appointments, I appreciate the fact that each time I visit the doctor I'm overwhelmed again by the generosity of the cross.

Funny Little Things

This past week I was out in Indiana when my check engine light came on the car. 7 hours away from home and having only a basic knowledge of cars, I normally would've freaked out. But this time when it happened, I wasn't alone. I was out with an awesome missionary couple (Greg and Heidi Edmonds) and their little girl, and they ever so sweetly looked out for me. Greg checked the oil while Heidi used my GPS to find the closest Autzone. The two of them helped me get it looked at and made sure I was safe before I drove away.

This isn't the only time that I have seen convenience in the midst of car trouble. Last year, when my wheel bearings were going bad, I happened to lend my car to a mechanic who heard the squeeling bearings and volunteered to fix them for me for free. Another time last year my timing belt broke, the car waiting to totally shut down until I made it off the interstate and into the safety of a Taco Bell Parking lot.

And just last week, the car I was driving lost power steering and all the lights came on when I was again in a parking lot. Had this happened 5 minutes later I would've been on the side of the interstate sitting in the rain. Taken as isolated incidents this stuff seems like a stupid coincidence. But when you look at it together, I can't help but wonder why my car always breaks in the most convenient of manners.

Let's Be Honest

Let's be honest, when I first got back from Haiti this past April, I was a mess. I often found myself in social situations unable to speak or engage in conversations. My mind blank. Some days I was having trouble getting myself out of bed. What's the point? I often asked myself before I forced my feet out of the covers and onto the floor.

And the hardest thing about it was I didn't understand why. Sure there was that thing about living through an earthquake in Haiti. But being that broad wasn't helpful. The whole world seemed to be grieving the earthquake, yet still I felt so alone in my emotional funk. What was going on?

One of the first times I realized my problem was during my first week at home. I went to visit my sister and brother-in-law in Detroit. And after a should-have-been-fun day at the museum looking at mummies, I was withdrawn, speechless. When people die, their bodies rot or turn into grotesque paper machet-like human pinatas, otherwise known as mummies. That is our physical fate, if we are lucky.

These thoughts passed through my mind as I looked out the windows of the car at the abandonned buildings on nearly every street corner. It's here too. Haiti, the United States, the world is filled with poverty, pain, and brokennes.

After a few days in Detroit, I headed to my parents' house only to discover friends having huge family problems. And a few weeks later, a 26 year-old friend of mine was hospitalized and died after a 4 year battle with Lukemia. He was my fourth friend under the age of 30 to die in a period of 4 months.

God what is going on? The world is horrible. Numbness and depression were starting to turn into frustration and anger. I thought God was good? Why is life so bad? I wanted to throw God out. Be ticked and forget about the faith all together.

But something in me couldn't. Even in the midst of feeling confused and hurt, something in me knew that leaving the faith and calling God a jerk would be a denial of Truth. I still don't know how to describe it, but it was like in the midst of HUGE tragedies, I still saw God's goodness in tiny intimacies.

For example, I thought about how after the earthquake I was running into people who'd lost 3, 7, or 9 family members and were themselves suffering from post-traumatic stress. I saw 5 new kids show up at the local orphanage after losing family members. And yet in the middle of that I saw God make sure I got fresh green beans: a visiting team unknowingly going to the Dominican Republic and buying fresh produce that would satisfy my exact craving the very day I voiced it to the missionaries.

Or how on January 14th, just 2 days after the earthquake, I got word that I would be able to attend a women's conference in Colorado that I'd been wanting to go to for 5 years. And the same week of my birthday, the only birthday I've ever passed without receiving any cards from family or friends (mail was impossible in Haiti at the time), I found out I'd recieved a scholarship to the conference and would pay only $25 instead of the impossible price of $375.

And just in case I was going to miss these connections, at the women's conference in April one of the speakers said, "Jesus name is like a kiss on an earthquake." His intimate love and tenderness toward me were undeniable. So I found myself trying to reconcile two seemingly exclusive realities: God is an intimate and omnipotent lover and friend, and God sometimes allows terrible pain and tragedy on earth.

How is this? A friend of mine, when listening to my grief said, "You know Justine, I just have to believe God's love is bigger than that. It's bigger than the death of my husband and bigger than an earthquake." This idea is all through the bible. I've been reading lately in Romans 8:35-39 how NOTHING can separate us from God's love. And to be really honest, I still don't get why horrible stuff happens. But somehow I am beginning to believe that God really is good even in the middle of every human tragedy.

Prayer Update (e-mailed 5/18)

Hi again friends,

I hope you all are well and enjoying this spring. Thanks for continuing to pray for me these past few weeks in the States. So far things are working out according to plan.

What I'm doing
Most of my Sundays are scheduled up. I'm waiting to hear back from one church, and then every Sunday from now until July 11th is full! Yay God! I am looking forward to reconnecting with a lot of the churches who've been faithfully praying for and financially supporting me this past year.

It is awesome seeing some of you in human form instead of in text on a prayer list. Teachers may know what I mean. It is a lot different getting your class list, and then seeing your students in the classroom. Nothing beats seeing people face to face. As I see you all it is exciting and encouraging to remember how many people are a part of what God is doing in Haiti through this ministry.

I'm also using a good bit of my time doing administrative work, like writing thank you notes, scheduling meetings, coordinating small Haiti projects, and answering e-mails. To be honest, it has been difficult to find a good work rhythm these last few weeks, but the to do list is steadily getting smaller.

What I'm learning
And in the midst of all this, I think I'm learning a lot about who God is. As I've had more time to reflect on the last several months, including the times since the earthquake, I am finally starting to see how God was there all along. And I'm starting to see how tenderly he loves me.

For example, one day in Haiti I started to crave fresh green beans. We don't get many fresh green vegetables there, so I hadn't had any in weeks and the store I used to buy green vegetables from was destroyed in the earthquake. Well that very day after expressing my craving to my friends, a team came in carrying supplies for the hospital. On their way they had picked up vegetables in the Dominican Republic for the missionaries. And their bags included, yes, lots of green beans.

It sounds almost silly telling you now, but who else knows our desires that intimately? I keep seeing little things like this both from my time in Haiti and now in my time in the States. Someone recently reminded me that God's love is bigger than anything that can ever happen: an earthquake, a friend's death, a sickness. He is bigger. That's been a really comforting thought to me these last few weeks.

How you can pray
- Keep praying for wisdom and His leading as I speak.
- Pray for His provision both financially, emotionally, and spiritually
- Pray that I continue grieving in a way that honors God.
- Pray that I'd obey God in the day to day things and I'd follow His schedule.

Thank you again for everything. Please let me know if there are ways I could be praying for you as well. (I really do like it when I can know how to pray for you.)

take care,
justine

College Graduates

This past weekend I attended my little sister's college graduation. It was kind of weird for me to be back on a college campus and to look at all the students and professors from the outside in.

It made me think back on my graduation 2 years ago. What was I thinking? What did I hope for? What did the speakers tell us?

Even though it hasn't been that long since I was wearing that robe, so much has changed. I think of my own naive optimism. I left college feeling confident. I understood God and the world, and knew what I was going to do to change everything. The students there had that same look on their faces as they watched the speaker or shot silly string at one another.

They seem so young and innocent. I know many people probably look at me and still see the same things inside. But where I am now feels worlds away from where I was as a college graduate.

I had no idea how difficult ministry really was or how hard it is to apply perfect book theories to a broken reality tied up with the messy strings of history. Sure, work overseas, empower nationals, always create self-sustaining ministries, sounds good. But how does that work in a country with one of the worst economies in the world? And how does that work when the parental ministry of missionaries 50 year ago is still strongly influencing the population of today?

I know...I'm learning change is a slow slow process, and people are changed by people not policies. This is a lot harder than it sounded in intercultural studies classes.

I also think I'm learning a lot about God. I knew God was good in college because mostly everything in life was good. I loved my classes, my friends, chapel, my job. Not that there weren't hard times, but it was easy to believe God was good in such an awesome environment.

But what do you do with your good God when there is a huge earthquake, you lose friends, a whole nation is grieved, and an already impovrished country is left with a wreck that would take the United States years to recover from? Is He still good?

I'm starting to believe again that He is, and starting to see that He never left and never changed. But it seems like sometimes I have to trust His goodness rather than see his goodness.

I heard a quote at the graduation last weekend that was something like this, "Greatness is not determined by how much money you make or how successful you are in your work. Greatness is determined by what it takes to discourage you. Don't ever quit." I think this makes more sense to me know 2 years out than it would have 2 years ago.

At 24 there are so many things I just don't get. I am starting to get glimpses of how hard life is and can be. (I know anyone over 40 is probably saying just you wait.) And I'm starting to see how ideals aren't so easily translated into reality. But I wonder if there isn't something beautiful about the naive optimism and hope of a college graduate that starts to slip away as we step into disillusionment. I don't want to ever lose that feeling I had when I graduated that our God can do anything and will do awesome things. This is still true.

What I'm doing in Haiti

This April, I finished my first year of living in Haiti. During that time, I was able to teach 2 English classes to adult professionals. I was also able to introduce my highest level students to research writing, which was really fun. Classes, however, along with everything else were interrupted by the earthquake on January 12th. After that point, I temporarily shifted my focus from teaching English to working with other missionaries to coordinate relief and host short-term teams.

Though this shift was necessary, it was difficult. And becuase of this break, my students andI are anxiously awaiting English classes which will resume in September. This year, I hope to find a new curriculum, raise the standards of the program, and start taking steps to prepare students for the TOEFL tests.

In the long-term, we would love to see our English students go on to become translators, to take Master's courses online, or to pursue degrees at the university we hope to start on La Gonave. Though I am not sure if I will be in Haiti to see the university become a reality, all the other missionaries working in education and I are committed to teaching our students with the university goal in mind.

Through English classes, computer courses, and the use of the WISH library (which is currently under construction), we are equiping our students to pursue further education in Haiti or around the world.

Big Bags

On April 6th, 2010, I flew back into the United States. Inside my suitcase, I carried a couple of full journals, some faded skirts, and Haitian coffee, a load much lighter than the one I'd carried in 11 months before.

As always, I was happy when the luggage guys took my bag from me and tossed it into a pile. It was nice knowing I wouldn't have to think of it again until we reached Ft. Lauderdale. It and all my stuff would ride safely along until I got to the next airport, where I would again let the airport attendants stow it away.

I guess I just take it for granted that all my stuff will be safe, never even glancing inside my bag until I reach my final destination. It's easier that way because then when I get to it, I'm so excited about seeing my family that I don't care that there are coffee grounds in my tennis shoes or that the lotion broke open on my new skirt. And besides that there's no baggage tosser around for me to scold unnecissarily.

But this particular time, my luggage didn't make it through. After waiting for 45 minutes or so, we finally filed a report with the airline asking them to ship the luggage to my sister's house in the next day or so. Now call me sick, but something in me was strangley satisfied to walk out of the airport with only a backpack.

Maybe I get a strange pleasure out of simplicity, or maybe it's because I had packed a change of clothes in my carry-on and knew we could pick up toothbrushes at Walgreens...either way, I wasn't worried. And I had no problem letting my luggage be someone else's concern. I hate carrying big suitcases and all that stuff anyway. If I let my inner simpleton win out over the worrier, I think travel everywhere with just a back pack or with no luggage at all.

It's possible that I'm just a little crazy and hate carrying luggage. But is it also possible that this reflects some spiritual truth?