The Gift of Time

Isn’t it mind-boggling how a single smell or song can take you back decades, to a specific moment in time. I have read that you can use your sense of hearing to aid in memorization. As you are trying to learn something you should repeat it, then ring a bell. Apparently associating the new concept with the sound will help solidify it in your mind. Maybe, as I practice Portuguese I should try it and let you know if it works.

For me, the smells and tastes of Thanksgiving often bring me back to a specific painful moment in time. I lost grandmother at Thanksgiving, and although aí have so much to be thankful and Thanksgiving is a wonderful thing, all the smells, tastes, sounds, and routines are the same year after year. Inevitably, something will trigger those distant memories and emotions.

I remember that morning in chunks. My mom was cooking dinner. My aunt met me at the house. My mom asked my aunt how to make the gravy just right, she said she could never get it on her own and my grandmother wasn’t there to help. My aunt detailed the steps to make perfect gravy. Then, the two of us went to the hospital to sit with my grandmother. My family would tell you that it all happened so fast and that it was unexpected. The doctors said she would be home. They thought of sharing Thanksgiving leftovers. But inside I knew that was not the case. As I sat with her that day, holding her hand, I knew with certainty in my heart the Thanksgiving meal served in the hospital would be the last meal we would ever share together. Nobody ate it. Not only did I know that was the last Thanksgiving, I knew the doctors were wrong, that it was our last moments together- ever. I am so grateful for those moments. I am sure most of you can relate with memories of losses that are your own. And although those memories are sad ones, I am so grateful for those moments. Being able to hold someone’s hand as they take their last inhale here and exhale in eternity is a gift. It is more painful then words can accurately describe, but a gift all the same. It was in that moment that I finally understood what God meant in Romans when he said that the spirit makes intercession for us because in that moment I didn’t know what words to pray. It is in that moment that the soul inside of you becomes a physical weight so heavy you have no choice but to lean into God and let him hold you up. Psalms 34:18 “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those crushed in spirit.”It is that moment that  teaches you to truly appreciate every single breath of another being, down to the very last one.

I have many beautiful members of a lifetime with my grandmother, but on Thanksgiving my senses tend to take me back to that moment of a goodbye and even after all these years my heart will feel a very distinct ache. So this Thanksgiving, I encourage you, be thankful for time. Don’t just be thankful for the time you have, but be thankful for the time others choose to invest in you. You can never get time back. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. So when someone chooses to use their time to invest in you, appreciate that. It is more precious than any monetary gift. Respect other’s time. Don’t demand teachers meet you outside their workday and when they give up their family time to meet you speak to them in an unkind way. Don’t go to the express, 10 items, lane with 22 items in your cart. Don’t say you will be ready at 7:00 but make your ride wait in the car until 7:45. And above all else, do not ride down the shoulder of the road and last minute try to cut back into the line of traffic that has patiently awaited their turn. On the flip side, don’t get all bent out of shape if you feel someone is not respecting your time. You are right where you are meant to be so, don’t waste your time grumbling and complaining. Look for the way you are meant to use that time. Use that meeting time to show love and grace; use those extra moments in the express line to thank God for providing the food and money you are spending, and as you wait in the car for your friend who is perpetually late, pray for those in the houses around you, who knows the hurts hidden behind those closed doors. Your prayers can make a difference. Take time to invest in others. Psalms 90:12 “Teach us to realize the brevity of life, that we may can a heart of wisdom.”


This Thanksgiving I have so much to be grateful for. I am thankful for the time others have invested in me, praying for me and with me, encouraging me to grow and step out in faith. I am thankful for the time spent with those I love, for miraculous healing of my friend who had stomach cancer, and for new friends who have entered my life. I am thankful for a job I love that is allowing me to take time off to teach in Brazil, and I am especially for the gift of life.

This Thanksgiving God has given our family a special gift to be thankful for. As the familiar smells and conversation about less than perfect gravy occur, we will not be dreadful awaiting a last goodbye. My cell phone will still be within a fingertip's reach, but I will be awaiting for the news that a baby has arrived. My cousin Ashleigh grew up around the corner from me for most of my childhood and even lived with us for a period of time. She has always been like a second little sister. This Thanksgiving she is having a baby. I have prayed for her and this baby over the past 9 months and anxiously await his arrival. So this year the smells and tastes and sounds will be linked with memories of excitement and eager anticipation has a new breath of life is taken.

Happy Thanksgiving Psalms 9:1 “ I will give thanks to you, Lord, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonderful deeds.”

Not a Superhero

Introduction

As a person, who tends to keep my thoughts and feeling neatly tucked away, to be shared only with those closest to my heart, the idea of blogging was not something I have ever considered doing. But lately, I have been feeling inspired to do many things that previously wouldn’t have been my cup of tea, or as they would say in Brazil, “não é minha praia,”  which  literally it means, “it is not my beach.” Doesn’t that sound so much cooler than the tea thing? I think so. I have been learning that when you allow yourself to be open, to be vulnerable and real, other people benefit from your experiences, and you grow as a person. So as I embark on this journey, I want to share it with you, all of it: the real, the honest, the beautiful, and the not so pretty. Welcome to my journey.

Not a Superhero

Do you have those people in your life who you are absolutely certain are secretly superheroes? During the day they look like you and me, but you are certain that hidden in the back of their closets are the standard issued superhero masks and capes. They possess some super-human strength that you and I wish to have but know is unattainable for us mere humans. We are just everyday people, trying to do the best we can and keep our heads above water. When I think of missionaries, that is how I think of them, as superheroes. They are Christians with a stronger faith and superhuman ability to not be frazzled, or afraid, or shaken, or weak. I think of J. from my church, who goes to really dangerous places, but talks about it as if it is as easy as going to Target for things you don’t really need. How does he do that? But most intriguing to me are always the women missionaries. I think as a woman I relate to them better and am even more amazed at their superhero status because I could never do that. When I first started to consider going to Brazil long term, I asked friends to pray for me. While speaking with one friend, she referred to me as a missionary. I remember thinking, I’m not a missionary. I don’t want to be a missionary, that is too much pressure to perfect. I’m not a superhero Christian. I’m just me. I don’t have a hidden cape; I just have a lot of flip-flops.

John and Annapaula are also missionaries from my church. Although we had attended the same church for a long time, I first met John and Annapaula recently,  when I signed up to go on the summer mission trip to Brazil. When our team went to Brazil, John and Annapaula traveled with us. Throughout our time in Brazil and the weeks leading up to our trip, I looked at Annapaula’s life. I was certain she had a superhero cape hidden somewhere. How could she sell most of her belongings and move to a new house every school year? How does she have family on two continents, so no matter where she lives half of her loved ones are half a world away? How did she cart two kids to a new country, traveling over 24 hours straight, navigating four airports and while worrying about them still find time to check on everybody else on the team? How did she translate for all 23 of us, day and night, with little to no sleep, and not be cranky with all of us? Our trip to Brazil was great, but it was physically demanding. From my perspective, everyone was frazzled or stretched to the max at some point- except for Annapaula. She was never shaken, not once. I didn’t see her cape, but I was sure she had one packed in her suitcase somewhere.

 

As the week progressed, I knew that God was laying on my heart to return to Brazil, but I also knew I couldn’t do it. It would be too hard. It wasn’t a realistic idea. I had my list of excuses of why I couldn’t go back: too expensive, too far, I don’t speak Portuguese, I have a good job, my family has always been within a day's driving distance, I like drinking tap water. Basically, foreign travel não é minha praia. I knew I was not a strong enough person to give up all the things that make me feel safe and comfortable to do something requiring me to let go of control. I would have told you that I believed Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” But I wasn’t ready to live it. I was only ready to trust God with most things, not everything. There were still things I felt safer controlling myself. Then we came to our last night in Brazil.

On that final night, each person on our team talked about the week from their perspective. When it was Annapaula’s turn to share, she started to cry. I was confused, superheroes do not shed tears. She started to share about how at moments she was overwhelmed by the demands of the week; superheroes don’t get overwhelmed. What was happening? She went on to share that the only way she was able to translate on the ladies night was by God giving her the strength to do so because she didn’t have any of her own. Now maybe I should have been thinking, “If Annapaula can’t maintain superhero status, there is no way I can do it.”  But that is not what I thought at all. In that moment, I  realized that she never had a cape, to begin with. There are no superhero Christians. We can’t build people up in our minds comparing our walk with theirs and use it as an excuse to not step out in faith. There are no capes. We are all weak, scared, and overwhelmed by something, but if we lean into God, he gives the strength we need when we need it. His strength is made perfect in our weakness. I think it was at that moment that I realized, maybe I can do this because God’s not looking for superheroes, just willing hearts. 

Conclusion

It still took me another few weeks of analyzing and praying before I could remove the “maybe” from my heart. A good friend aptly said, “You can’t trust God part way. You either trust him or you don’t.”  So how about you? Are you trying to trust God part way? Do you trust with most things but not all things? I encourage you, if God has placed something on your heart, no matter small or how big and scary, take that leap of faith. Trust him all the way. You don’t need a superhero cape, just a willing heart and you will see him use your willing heart to accomplish things you thought only a superhero could do.