So long control....for now.

   It wasn't easy walking out the door that morning. My head told me to turn around and run back inside and embrace my children. To stay home and let someone else go. My heart, however, gave action to my feet and I managed to walk out into the sunlight. I knew I was supposed to go and the wondrous thing about having prayed and prayed about a decision--is that you are able to obey with the assurance that God has prepared the way. And oh, how He prepared the way.
   The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach was still present at the airport. It was the feeling of having my fingers forcefully pried open--my grip broken. I've always felt calm and secure when in control (well, when seemingly in control). How humorous that I believe I am controlling my childrens' safety. How egotistical that I believe no one else can run my house or do all I do as efficiently. Anxiety started to swell inside of me and I shouted the "what-ifs" away. Keep walking.
   In Atlanta I began to panic about the miles between myself and my family. "Just tell me we're going to South-Dakota," I humorously chided to Geny-Kate, as if proximity can shield oneself from disaster. Get on the plane! As we took off on the 9 hour flight to Prague, I closed my eyes and began to pray. I acknowledged that I know no control in any area of my life. I repeated Isaiah 26:3, a verse my mother taught me as a little girl and one that has brought me such comfort through many fearful times--

You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.

Why is it that I have such a difficult time keeping my mind on Him and trusting in His sovereignty? He holds my children's lives. His hand is cupped beneath the belly of the plane as we fly. Nothing happens without His saying so.

    I felt the anxiety melt away and the warmth that comes from trusting a friend overtake me. I sat back and, as I had many times prior to this trip, asked the Lord to protect this team, protect my family, and to use this experience to teach me many wonderful things about Himself. I thought the journey of learning would begin when we reached camp, but it really began the minute I stepped outside of my front door and headed on this faith journey. You see, my world is small and I have created it that way. I drove each and every nail into the comfort zone erected to keep me from trusting. I've built it so high that I can no longer remember what it feels like to peek out and meet people unlike myself. I've built it so thick that it insulates me from feeling dependent on the Lord and vulnerable with Him. I wanted this missions experience as much for myself as for the Czech people. We're really not that different, the Czechs and I--we both think we don't need a Savior. Lord, help our unbelief!