How do I even find words?
A few weeks ago, I wrote I’m
heading into the summer with a very real sense that this is exactly where God
wants me to be. My plans were falling into place, fundraising was going
well, these dreams of mine were actually coming true.
And then there was an earthquake.
If you ever want to see what’s really in your heart, take
all of your plans and put them at risk of falling apart entirely. Those ten
days after the earthquake were the kind of days that are full of uncertainty
and hard waiting, but they were also days where I learned and grew immensely.
I’ve seen from the very, very beginning of this entire
process that God is proving His love for me. Back in February, as I was waiting
for word on whether I was accepted to be part of this team or not, I was up at
5 AM every morning to spend time with Jesus, reading His words and praying. Those
ten days were the best of my semester, spiritually. (I wish they were more the
norm.) My need for Jesus was raw and obvious;
my relationship with Him was so real. On one of those mornings, I realized that
I was expecting God to say “no” to this trip to Nepal. I was waiting for Him to
prove that He knows better, that He’s more powerful and wiser than I am. And
while He is those things—He is also loving. He wants what’s best for me, not to
prove something to me but because He loves me. Jesus loves me. The reality of His
love hit me full force and I was speechless. No matter the email I got—whether
it was an acceptance or a rejection, God loves me. And whatever happened, I
knew it would be His best.
So when I was sitting in the back of children’s church that
Sunday morning in February, I looked down and saw an email from Tiny Hands. (And
I’m pretty sure my heart immediately started beating 612873x its normal speed
as I opened it.) Reading the words, “Congratulations, you have been selected to
be a part of Tiny Hands International’s VisionTeam 2015!” was like reading
“Molly, I love you. I know your heart, your passions, your deepest desires and
dreams. I want what’s best for you, because
I love you.” I don’t have the words to explain to you how clear God’s love
was for me that morning.
Fast forward a month and ten days.
I woke up to news of an earthquake. The reality and
implications of a massive earthquake brought back many of the same emotions I
felt before—the fears, the doubts, the questions. Everything was uncertain,
there weren’t any answers anywhere. Waiting to hear the effects of the
earthquake on my trip this summer was hard. (Harder than I’d like to admit.) Would
we still go? What does this mean for my summer? How do I react to all of my
dreams and plans changing? But yet again, those ten days of waiting were the
best days for me.
God showed me so much of my flesh, confirmed His love for
me, and showed me how to rest and trust in Him. I can’t tell you how many times
I prayed, “God, I still don’t know what you’re doing. I don’t see it. I don’t
understand how this is good. But I know You
are good.” All I could do was trust. There is so, so much that I’ve learned
through this. And maybe that’s some of the good. . .
So last night, as I was studying for exams, trying to push
thoughts of Nepal out of my mind so that I could write an essay, I looked down
and saw an email from Tiny Hands. (And again, my heart was beating 239023489x faster
as I opened it.) Reading the words, “As of right now, we are planning to move
ahead with the team,” was like reading “Molly, I still love you. Trust me. I
still know your heart; I still have your best in mind.”
I’m speechless. I’m
still going to Nepal. I’m beyond thankful that this is how God chose to
answer my prayers. He has been in this journey every single step of the way. He
was here when I clicked on that link and found Tiny Hands for the first time.
He was here when I applied and was accepted. He was here when fundraising went smoothly.
He was here when the earthquake happened. And He is still here. And He will be
here as I get on a plane on June 10 and fly to Nepal. His presence will never,
ever change.
I’m still praying, still spending my mornings on my knees.
My need for Jesus is still raw and real and obvious. I still don’t know exactly
what God is doing. I have no idea the ways He’s going to use this summer. But I
am expectant that it will be immeasurably more and abundantly greater than
anything I can ask or think.
