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Monday, July 29, 2013

Guys, I am Great at Worrying!


Ok, you know those people who are  talented at everything they do? They play an instrument, and are really good at budgeting, and are funny, and are super smart? Well, I have been blessed to have many friends like that. I can probably name at least 10 without really even thinking. The problem is, I am not that person. At all. However, I am really  good at one thing. That thing is worrying. Seriously, people should hire me to do it. I am quite brilliant at the art of worrying, and really, over anything . Especially, when it is out of my control. As you can imagine, moving to a separate hemisphere has me thinking about some things, and you, lucky readers and supporters are getting to hear about it first.

So… I am moving to Cambodia and should be there in about 3 months (as long as the final interview goes well...please...PRAY!!). There are primarily two things on my mind. The first is that I need to go to the dentist, of who I am afraid, and, on top of that, I cannot tell you the last time that I went. If I have less than 3 cavities, you will see me skipping down the street fist pumping and yelling ‘huzzah.’

The other thing on my mind is I have to raise my salary. Well, crap. I have absolutely no idea how to do this. My sweet friend Ashley is throwing me a dinner, and I will send out support letters as well, but when I think about the amount of money I need to raise, or have pledged in the next 3 months, it makes me want to curl up in the fetal position and eat McDonalds.  How in the WORLD will this happen?

I was worrying about this at work, because, clearly, when would be a better time? I went and expressed my concern to my friend,  who listened patiently and said “Well, if God wants you there now, he will provide.” My first thought was ‘well yeah, I know, but that doesn’t help me with knowing what to do now.’

My second thought was remembering what had been provided to me in the past. Let me take you back about 3.5-4 years and tell you a little story of how I ended up where I am today. This is definitely more so for me as I think about Deuteronomy 4:9, “Only take care and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children’s children.” So here we go (cue dreamy flashback music like in TV shows).

In May (or was it June?) of 2009, I was planning on going to Uganda with my friend, Jessie, for a month. We didn’t have plans, just plane tickets. 3 weeks before going I was sitting in a travel clinic waiting to get my Yellow Fever shot (the only required shot for entrance into Uganda). The physician that was going to be administering the shot was going through my immunization history, and asks me, “When was your last MMR shot?” Being the stupidly proud human that I am, I sat up a little straighter and said boldly, “Well, I got it 2 days ago, because I wanted to be prepared for this trip!”

She gives me a blank stare and says “Oooh….. I’ll be right back.”

“Ok, weird, but whatever,” I thought, as I am sitting there proud that I am going to such an exotic location.

She comes back in and won’t look me in the eye. She proceeds to explain to me that the MMR and Yellow Fever vaccines are both live viruses. With live virus shots, they either need to be given on the same day, or a month apart. I’m sure the poor physician didn’t see this coming, but I burst into tears. Right there in her office, in the middle of a travel clinic where people are preparing to leave for adventures all over the world. Dripping tears, and I’m sure snot, unable to compose myself, she looks at me (finally) and says (very sincerely, by the way), “I am so sorry.”

So that halted my travel plans. I didn’t go to Uganda. My friend, Jessie, was having the time of her life and I was watching from afar. My friend, ended up staying, and so in October 2009, I made the trek out to the slums of Uganda.

I spent two weeks sleeping in the slum of Kivulu and hanging out with street boys as they were the focus of the ministry that Jessie was part of. One day, we were walking through a more dangerous slum, Kisenyi (I think that is how its spelled) and I ask Jessie “Why are there only street boys? Why is Deborah the only girl in your programs?” Her response was “Well, that is more of a justice issue. Most of the girls are taken and forced into prostitution.” My senses became heightened as I sloppily stammered through the muddy slum looking at every makeshift shelter wondering if a young girl was in there being robbed of her innocence.

A few days later, I was on a plane back to America and angry at the world. I emailed International Justice Mission (www.ijm.org) asking  if they would let me see one of their operations or aftercare facilities. The answer was a resounding ‘no.’ However; they did give me links to various organizations. I visited one of the websites they gave me; it was for World Hope International (www.worldhope.org). Immediately, I saw a trip to Cambodia to learn about the sex trafficking industry there. I was so excited, I could barely stand it. However, that high lasted about 15 minutes before realizing that it was a 10 day trip. I wanted to be there much longer (picture me stomping my foot with a huge pout on my face, I am sure that is what it must of looked like).  I dropped that opportunity in a second and went back to living life and not thinking about Cambodia ever again. Until a week later.

At the time, I was working for a treatment center for girls with eating disorders. Occasionally, we would take them on outings for both recreation and exposure. I was taking the adolescents to Barnes and Nobel for a couple hours. What this really consisted of was the girls all going different directions, me running circles in the store counting them (praying none of them disappeared) ,and making sure they weren’t  looking at diet books or fitness magazines. In one of my circles, I ran into a table. You know how Barnes and Noble like to put tables full of books in the walkways? Well, I smacked straight into one.  I looked down at the table and saw a book with a woman laughing with two young girls. Nothing necessarily remarkable about the book, but I picked it up and read the back. Guess what it was about? A woman named Somaly Mam (remember this name), who was sold into prostitution at a young age, had escaped, and then rescued a ridiculous number of girls herself. Guess where she is from? Yeah... Cambodia.

It took me two days to read the book, and I slept with the light on for a week. Monstrously devastating.  A few days after that I applied for the trip to Cambodia with World Hope International. (Side note, because this is just too cool, but I was telling all of the patients at my work where I was going and one girl said to me “Oh, I have been to Cambodia doing that sort of work before. I was working for an organization called Daughters of Cambodia. Guess where I am going to work? Daughters). Something else I am really good at is procrastination. And boy did I procrastinate on those support letters. To be quite fair, 2 months before I was supposed to leave, I STARTED writing my letters. I needed $2800 at had known about this trip for 6 months and was just starting. Right before I put the pen to paper, I received an email from World Hope informing me that I was fully funded.

Ummm, I’m sorry. What? That has to be an error.

Actually, I wasn’t just fully funded, I had exceeded the amount that I needed to raise by over $1000. And I didn’t do anything. The people who donated the most, I had never met. Absolutely absurd. In the most wonderful way.

8 months after applying, pregnant with anticipation and excitement, I landed in Phnom Penh.

Oh, and on the way back from Phnom Penh to the states, guess who was on our flight and talked with us for a little bit? Somaly Mam.

I guess my friend from work is right (and, clearly, it is Biblical) but God provides. He has a tendency to flex his muscles, which I love and hate. He doesn’t only provide, but he does it in the most spectacular ways. Here I am doubting ,and the words “oh you of little faith…” are gently echoing in my head and drawing me back to rely on the one who will fill my every need. Teaching me once again dependence on the Provider is how I need to live. Ugh. When will I ever learn?


Philippians 4:19- And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.
 
 
p.s. shameless plug, but if you are wanting to donate to me being overseas, info will be posted soon.

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