Father Knows Best

For some unexplainable but very real reason, I always drag my feet before coming to the U.S. for one of these little mini-furlough trips. In fact, last summer when we were due for a trip, we simply talked ourselves out of it. Waiting three years to come up this time, we should have been overjoyed to see friends again. Instead I found I was even more ambiguous about coming. Where will we stay? What car will we drive? Why did we need to come up anyway? What if everyone's lives have moved on, and they have no room for us? If we downplay the "fund-raising" aspect due to the downturn in the economy, how will we pay for all our summer expenses? Waa-waa, whining, etc. You get the picture.

Now that we are here, of course, my tune has changed. Once again, God has shown himself abundantly faithful and merciful to us, showing His hand in all our comings and goings. It seems one of the biggest blessings of being in Ohio this summer is that I am finally regaining my health, as I mentioned in my last blog. I am now on my last day of the 21-day de-tox diet, and for the most part I feel great. Losing ten pounds as of last Wednesday and not having a headache for a few weeks can do a lot to raise my spirits. The glass is looking half-full again instead of half-empty.

One particular blessing this week concerns our youngest daughter, Debbie. She is the only one not too old to attend vacation Bible school (VBS) this summer. That alone is a sobering thought. As I took her to one of our biggest supporting churches to drop her off Monday evening, I was completely overwhelmed with the vast number of cars in the parking lot. By the time we parked and walked to the building, I was uneasy. Then checking the LONG list of children to find which room she was to report to, I was disappointed that her name was not on the list even though we had pre-registered online. Moving to the central area to find an answer to our dilemma, we were faced with an enormous mob of parents, children, and workers pushing toward a main table where people could sign their kids up. I mean, without exaggerating much, I can say it made college registration look like a snap! Panic began creeping in.

After reminding Debbie about the differences in cultural norms, (i.e. we don't touch strangers in front of us to show that we are seriously "in line" and to avoid having people butt in line, instead we make sure we give people more personal space), I saw that more people must have been internationally reared like Debbie, because everyone seemed to be sort of jostling for position, actively touching the person in front of them. It was a highly stressful few minutes there. Men who had innocently gotten roped into "simply" dropping off the children for VBS looked as frazzled as I felt. One was relaying his nightmare in the hallway where one of his little ones escaped from his grasp, and got lost.

By the time we got to the worship center where Debbie's class was, they had gone outside for the second activity. Seeing the bazillion 5th graders, even I wanted to turn around and forget the whole thing. How would Debbie ever make any friends? All the other little girls seemed to be two-by-two, each with a best friend by their side. Even worse, I never met Debbie's particular teacher, so I couldn't explain about our situation, and why it was so vital for her to have a good experience this week. Leaving her in that mass of children and workers, I had to commit her to God's care, come what may.

When I went to pick up Debbie that evening, I did meet her teacher, who was bubbling over with enthusiasm that Debbie was in her group. It turns out that her husband had been on a short-term construction team that came to Oaxaca about five years ago and had even been in our home! As soon as she saw Debbie's last name, she knew that this was a little missionary kid who would need to be cared for and made welcome. What an incredible God-thing. Only He could have arranged so that our original internet registration fell through the cracks so that Debbie would be placed in this particular group when we re-registered.

Even as I dragged my feet about coming up this summer only to discover abundant blessings from God once we got here, likewise I hesitated to leave poor Debbie in VBS only to see that God was working to make a truly positive experience this week. She is loving every minute of it. Sheryl, her vivacious and affectionate teacher, is Christ personified for my daughter. I am thankful.

Will I ever get to the point of total trust and confidence that no longer wavers when there is no apparent evidence of his presence? I want to jump in wholeheartedly to any location or activity where God is directing, not freaking out when it seems meaningless or uncomfortable. His ways are truly best. He is still on the throne. And He always knows what we need, even when we don't know ourselves.

Father knows best.