Again. How do I always manage to do this? I tell myself I will be more disciplined about writing / journaling/ blogging, then I go and be silent for half a year. My apologies.
So here I sit. A new year. Married. In my apartment with a cat (he's cute, but I mostly do not like him). We have finally had snowfall here in Madison; only no one wants it except the children- are the schools closed today?
Meet Mike. The man I gave my heart to a few years back now. He is kind, generous, loving and passionate. I think much more passionate than me (he bought some composting worms and then killed most of them in the first week).
Life in Madison has this...routine. Get up, go to work, dream of leaving America for the mission field somewhere, become impatient that I have not already started an apprenticeship for midwifery, cook food for four so there are leftovers for lunch the following day, repeat. Eventually, it will change, this I know. I think the Lord thought another lesson in patience was in order. I think I become less and less a fan of this lesson each time- plus, I got married! I know have this lesson for life. I digress.
So here I wait. It reminds me of a song. A old friend of mine's sister wrote it forever ago, called "Healing in the Silence". The song speaks of how there is still healing, though God might seem silent, although nothing seems to be happening. That is this season of waiting. Waiting and healing. Waiting and healing and hoping.
I did some research this morning on PNG. Lately, YWAM Madison has been sending teams to PNG and that is where Mike went for his outreach, so I have slowly become more interested in the little island country. I went onto the UNICEF website and looked at stats for infant, children under 5 and maternal mortality...There numbers are not as high as, say Gambia or Nigeria, but they are still high. It wrecked my heart. UNICEF says that mortality rates have gone down by half since 1990 worldwide which is such great news, but I also wonder, will there ever be a time when countries will be at zero?
If I am honest, I am scared of this wait. I am worried I will become hard and callous again. I will become complacent. I will forget how to be passionate. I will forget the world in need because I am not constantly going out to it and all I hear is stories. I am scared I will forget the stories written on my heart. The people who have touched it.
Lord, hold me close to your heart. I know the closer I am, the more unlikely to forget your heart, your people.
Sorry for the ramble.
So here I sit. A new year. Married. In my apartment with a cat (he's cute, but I mostly do not like him). We have finally had snowfall here in Madison; only no one wants it except the children- are the schools closed today?
Meet Mike. The man I gave my heart to a few years back now. He is kind, generous, loving and passionate. I think much more passionate than me (he bought some composting worms and then killed most of them in the first week).Life in Madison has this...routine. Get up, go to work, dream of leaving America for the mission field somewhere, become impatient that I have not already started an apprenticeship for midwifery, cook food for four so there are leftovers for lunch the following day, repeat. Eventually, it will change, this I know. I think the Lord thought another lesson in patience was in order. I think I become less and less a fan of this lesson each time- plus, I got married! I know have this lesson for life. I digress.
So here I wait. It reminds me of a song. A old friend of mine's sister wrote it forever ago, called "Healing in the Silence". The song speaks of how there is still healing, though God might seem silent, although nothing seems to be happening. That is this season of waiting. Waiting and healing. Waiting and healing and hoping.
I did some research this morning on PNG. Lately, YWAM Madison has been sending teams to PNG and that is where Mike went for his outreach, so I have slowly become more interested in the little island country. I went onto the UNICEF website and looked at stats for infant, children under 5 and maternal mortality...There numbers are not as high as, say Gambia or Nigeria, but they are still high. It wrecked my heart. UNICEF says that mortality rates have gone down by half since 1990 worldwide which is such great news, but I also wonder, will there ever be a time when countries will be at zero?
If I am honest, I am scared of this wait. I am worried I will become hard and callous again. I will become complacent. I will forget how to be passionate. I will forget the world in need because I am not constantly going out to it and all I hear is stories. I am scared I will forget the stories written on my heart. The people who have touched it.
Lord, hold me close to your heart. I know the closer I am, the more unlikely to forget your heart, your people.
Sorry for the ramble.
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