Eternity freaks me out

Confession: I used to panic when I thought about heaven. The thought of doing anything for ETERNITY totally freaked me out. And the stereotypical image of streets paved in gold and wearing angel outfits didn’t really float my boat. Why would I want to hang out on a gold street? Just what about THAT would make me so happy? And I guess it would be cool to have wings and all, but what are we doing to DO for ETERNITY?

So, the concept of eternity still freaks me out a little, but in South Africa I had a moment where I thought, if this is just a tiny glimpse of heaven, I’ll take it. We are walking down Rhenos Mountain with the beauty of South Africa spread before us, and Annette, Nelson, and Bon Jovi (more on them later) are walking behind me and singing worship songs in Zulu in harmony. And I thought – this is it. This is what it’s all about. Praising God with beautiful harmonies while surveying his handiwork.

If I don’t see my South African friends again on earth, I’ll see them in heaven. And I’ll be harmonizing with the best of them. I can’t wait.

Watch out - I may start dancing in church

Worshipping at Refilwe Community Center- the organization we worked with in South Africa. I so wish we would all dance more in church!

The fish story - aka I can now (most of the time) pray in public without getting the heebee jeebees

What’s different from last year:

As I’ve mentioned earlier, going on the mission trip last year was a complete accident. I wasn’t the “mission trip” type of girl; I was just along for the ride. And, forgive the tangent I’m about to go on, but what I gained far outweighed what I gave. For one, I acquired a fantastic “small group.” For those of you not hip with contemporary church lingo – this is a cross between a Sunday School class and...family. I thought I wanted to be in a “small group” of singles in their early 30’s (because that’s who I usually have the most in common with – at least life stage wise.) More boys than girls. And strong Christian leader kind of boys – the kind who would pray with you, drink a beer with you, and were also very cute.

Instead I’m in a group ranging from young to well...I won’t say ages, but grandchildren are involved. There are a few of us singles, but mostly married. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. We don’t talk about marital status very often. What we do talk about is how to live out what we believe. Faith, lack of faith, love, hypocrisy, the nature of the Holy Spirit, sex, doubt, prayer, money. I can cry, I can talk about people raising their hands in church when they sing (do I think that’s weird? Do I want to do that, too?) I can stop a prayer and say, so how are we doing this – is just one of us praying? Or are we going to leave it open until it gets uncomfortable and then someone closes? Or are we officially going to go around the circle so we know what order we are going in? I love it that there is a group that I have the privilege to belong to that is committed to coming together and supporting each other – for better or for worse. So much more than a Sunday School class. Definitely more like sitting around at Thanksgiving dinner and thinking, this is my crazy family that I love so much. And they will always love me because they have to.

So it’s June 2008. We are in a tiny airport somewhere in Mexico on our way to Los Mochis. Not anywhere near a city with cabs, hotels, etc. Just land and dust as far as you can see and the little commuter type of planes you walk out on the runway to get on. We are told three of us don’t have a seat and will have to stay there to wait for another flight the next day. And, of course, this just won’t work. We are standing in the middle of the airport and someone says, let’s pray about it. Everyone starts circling up – all twenty something of us. I am incredulous. And slightly horrified. We are seriously going to stand in a circle in the middle of an airport and pray? We are THAT kind of people? Someone should have let me in on this before I agreed to go. What are people going to think about us? That we’re a bunch of crazy religious fanatics? I’m of the school that prayer is private. And quiet. You don’t call attention to yourself.

And I’m a bit cynical. I think no matter what happens we are going to say oh, it’s “meant to be.” So why are we even praying? But we join hands and pray. And three gentlemen agree to give up their seats for us. This itself doesn’t strike me as a “God thing.” (Although, a now very good friend kindly suggests that I shouldn’t call some things “God things,” because in reality everything is a “God thing.” But you know what I mean.) So John Brown goes over to say thank you and kneels to pray with them. Again, I’m a little embarrassed. But he comes back and tells us that they are going on a fishing trip. And he tells them we, too, are fishers...fishers of men. Hmm...pretty cool, I think.

So, now we are in Los Mochis and gathered to talk about our plans. Chad passes out an unexpected surprise...shirts that say, “fishers of men.” Ok, this is getting cooler by the minute. But wait...it gets better. The next morning I open up my kit to see what we are teaching the kids. (Granted, I should have already looked at this, but I’m notorious for extreme procrastination.) So those of us in charge of kids gather to rehearse Vacation Bible School...and yes, it’s the story of Jesus calling Simon Peter, Andrew, James, and John to follow him and become...fishers of men. I get little chills all over. AND...the craft for the day is making bracelets with fish on them to symbolize what we are all called to do.

Now it’s the end of the week, and we are on the flight back to the states. And guess who is on the plane with us. You got it...the three fishermen. They took a detour because they got a free flight within Mexico for giving up their seats for us and had the best trip they’ve ever had – more fish than they’ve ever caught. At this point I can’t even talk about fish without getting all teary. I wore that tacky fish bracelet until it broke. And it’s still on my nightstand.

Just one small difference from last year to this one:

July 2009. We are in the Atlanta airport waiting for our flight to Johannesburg. 16 of us…and we don’t know each other every well. We are a random group of people who somehow individually felt like we should sign up for an AIDS Hospice Mission. We are in a crowded waiting area and about to board soon. And again, I’m incredulous, but for a different reason this year. Are we not going to pray together before we start this trip???? How can we even think about beginning this trip without group prayer??? I make the suggestion and someone says, of course…do you want to lead it? Sure, I would be glad to. We gather, and I start to pray aloud for what we are about to do.

This is somewhat of a miracle.

My cell phone, a gun, prostitution, and the Holy Spirit. Oh, and a missing toe.

My cell phone is officially turned off in case you have been trying to call. I thought I would explain why since I can’t call anyone to tell them. Trying to decide how to replace it – regular phone, iphone, another kind of smart phone? This Sunday’s sermon was pretty hard hitting, though. Not sure I can justify the iphone. But that’s a topic for another blog. For now: the cell phone story:

I was sitting in my car outside my apartment on Southside Saturday afternoon gathering my belongings…car door open. Next thing I know two guys are at my door. One put a gun to my cheek and said, get her purse…get her purse. They grabbed my makeup bag and purse and ran off, leaving me completely unharmed. The first thing I thought was, shoot (well, I thought something stronger than that), they took ALL of my good makeup! That’s expensive makeup. Should I run after them and say, you can have my purse, but can I have that Chanel bronzer back?

But while it was happening, I also remember thinking – oh, that’s a gun. Wow. Wonder if I’m going to die. Well, if I die, that’s ok. I know where I’m headed, and I’m good with it. I really just had this peace. Now I don’t know if the peace would have continued if they had car jacked me, or done anything other than run away. But for the 60 odd seconds it was happening, I had peace.

So now I don't have a phone to call the police...to call anyone...so I drive to my mom’s house. She's not home, but I let myself in and immediately look up contact numbers for all my credit cards and cancel them. Then I realize it's 4:20, and I have to be at a wedding at 5pm. I dash home, throw on a dress and some heels I have – very cute – patent leather with zebra striped heels. As I’m getting close to the church I see a cop standing on the street in Five Points. I pull over and dash up to him, saying breathlessly, I need to report a crime! I need to report a crime! When I tell him I was mugged he immediately looks around – Where did it happen??? Where did they go???

Oh, no, it was earlier today…around 3pm.

3pm??? It’s almost 5, and you’re just now reporting this??

As this is the first person I’ve even told the story to AND he’s yelling at me for not reporting it immediately, I start to get a little “teary,” as sometimes I am wont to do. He takes my information, writes down the case number and hands it to me. And as I’m walking down the street to the church, which is several blocks away, a homeless-looking guy yells out, Honey, you work this area often?? I don’t understand what he means so I just smile at him and keep walking. Then it dawns on me…He thinks I am a hooker!!! Getting a reprimand from the police!!! Seriously? Do I LOOK like a hooker? Well, the heels are a little high… Now I’m doubled over laughing and can barely walk in my formerly cute/now apparently hooker-esqe heels.

I get to the wedding, am being ushered down the aisle and notice my usher guy chewing gum. I think…I really need a piece of gum right now. Can I have a piece of gum, I say? He gives me a strange look. Apparently that is not a normal request as one is being seated at a wedding. I think, he’s not going to give me the darn gum. I’ve been mugged!! I say, I need a piece of gum!! Immediately he reaches into his pocket and gives me the gum. But then tells the rest of the wedding party that some girl just got mugged…apparently on the way to the church…so I have some explaining to do after the wedding.

And everyone keeps asking, are you ok? Are you scared to go back to your apartment? You’re probably going to have a breakdown later on. But I didn’t. And I really was ok. And I wasn’t scared to go back to my apartment. I just felt like, well, “stuff” happens. And it can happen anywhere. I don't understand why I'm fine...but I really am fine.

Small group on Sunday. We’re discussing the Holy Spirit…being filled with the Holy Spirit. I’ve had…and still have some questions on that topic. How exactly does THAT work? Do you know? What does it feel like? Does it/he come and go? And someone says to me, you know, THAT was the Holy Spirit in you…giving you that peace. The peace that transcends all understanding. The peace that allowed me to feel like my life was in God’s hands....that God was in control of the situation.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I’ll knowingly place myself in harm’s way…or I’ll try not to. But I just have a feeling that God has something planned for me to do, and he’s not going to let me leave earth just yet.

I have done some really stupid things in my life – once I was sleeping in the Puerto Rican airport on the way home from St. Lucia instead of getting a hotel room. And decided it was a FINE idea to let the guy vacuuming around my suitcase take me to the beach during the day since my flight didn’t leave until the next evening. He drove me to a sandwich stand on the side of the road so I could get some lunch, then left me at the beach at the Hilton. And picked me up on his way back to work. Now, that was just NOT the brightest thing I have ever done. And I’ve done some other stupid things that I’m not going to write here. But I’m alive today for a reason. I don’t know how my life is supposed to look on a day by day basis. Or long term. But I’m here on earth to glorify God. I know that.

Oh, and the toe? That’s actually not part of the story, but I just had to throw that in there. A few people said to me, oh, Laura, you are the only person this kind of thing happens to. But I was telling a good friend the story, and SHE almost one upped me. Seems last week she was asked to put ice in a ziplock bag and help find her neighbor’s missing toe that was somewhere in the yard. But that’s her story to tell!

You are all invited to the Church at Brook Hills - 11 am service - I'm getting baptized!

I’m getting baptized this Sunday. When I was young, I said a prayer and walked down an aisle and was immersed in a body of water by a great pastor in front of a Bible believing, loving church. But it is only recently that God opened my eyes to the truth of the gospel, so I have decided to REALLY be baptized now. I rehearsed what I would say during my video testimony that is shown at my church whenever one gets baptized. But the 60 seconds it needed to be was not enough time to tell my story the way I wanted to; I had to agree with Daniel, the great video guy at Brook Hills, that a video testimony was not the time to tell jokes, talk about sex, or do “shout outs” to my small group, so I want to do all of that here:

I was raised in a Christian home and was very involved in church until I went off to college. I didn’t give a lot of thought to what I believed…I just thought I had gotten out of the line going to hell and gotten into the line going to heaven. I’ve tried to go back and recall that time but honestly the main thing I remember is boys. Youth group was tremendously fun: skiing at Jay’s lake house, hayrides, playing “Kiss and Tackle” in the fellowship hall (I know…not the ideal game for hormonal teenagers.) I remember having Bible studies, but mostly I remember the Chic jeans I felt so cool in and deciding who I would stand behind playing Frogger at the Arcade at Eastwood Mall. (Standing behind a boy and cheering him on was code for I like you, in case you didn’t know.) How I was raised definitely kept me a “good girl”: there was a definitive line between good and bad, and it didn’t occur to me to cross it.

I had a common response to college and exposure to different beliefs and attitudes: I looked down and couldn’t see the line anymore. Short version of the next 20 years: I came to believe there were many valid paths to some sort of “higher power” and that Christians were, for the most part, naïve and simpleminded. Priding myself on being a free spirit with an open mind, I read every New Age book on the market, had a life coach, had my tarot cards read, looked into Wicca (the supposed “good” magic), meditated, fung shui’d my apartment, and had my natal chart analyzed. (Please note that I lived in Southern California during most of this.)

2005 and 2006: My boyfriend committed suicide, my dad died, and I decided there wasn’t even a “higher power” out there. I remember my sister saying to me as I sobbed about missing Daddy, Laura I just wish you had the faith that we (she and my mom) have; then you wouldn’t be so sad. You would know where he was and that you’d see him again. And I said, Carol, I’m sorry. I so wish I believed that, too, but I just don’t. If I could make myself believe, I would.

Fall of 2007. A series of events occurred involving Carol praying for an intercessory for me, the appearance of a Christian boy in my life, and me going to Brook Hills to show off for said boy. And God used David Platt’s sermons, books I had been given, a Tres Dias weekend, and conversations with friends to open my eyes. That is what it felt like. I didn’t DO anything. It was as if I had been blind and didn’t even know it. And then I could see.

I realized that there were some fundamental truths I had never fully grasped. I had never really understood just how exactly it “worked” that Christ as a man dying on a wooden cross because one sinned was going to get one to heaven. I took other people’s word for it when I was younger, but it never made a whole lot of sense. I vividly remember the sermon where David said: it wasn’t the physical suffering – it was Christ taking the full wrath of God for unpunished sin…for my sin…and that HAD to happen because of God’s inherent nature as all good yet all just. It was a like a light bulb went off, and I just “got it.” So THAT’s what this is all about…how did I not understand this before?? And every Sunday when David would give us a sneak preview of what he would discuss the next Sunday I’d think – I cannot wait that long. I need to hear that NOW! I’ll stay a few more hours...really. In my younger years I thought of church as something you endured because somehow just being there was “good” for you. But now it was completely different. I was on the edge of my seat wanting to know what the Bible said about this…and about that. I wanted to know it all right then. What is my life supposed to look like? How can I become more like Jesus? Who is God?

So I came to believe that the Bible was the living word of God, and it has changed my life. The main thing that has changed is that I realize that it’s not all about me – what God’s going to do for me, what’s going to make me happy. I was created to glorify God; that’s my purpose. And that’s why I want to be baptized as a symbol and public statement of my new life as a believer. I am profoundly grateful that my mom and sister never gave up on me through the years. Thank you for your prayers and patience. I have great friends who stood by me – especially through the “I don’t even think there’s a God” period. And my fabulous small group to whom I am able to say whatever the heck it is I’m thinking, including repeatedly expressing my astonishment that there are things as a single adult that I’m just not supposed to do anymore! I am still a work in progress, but God is changing me from the inside out, and I am a new creation in Christ.

This is amazing. (And even my friends who make fun of all things "amazing" have agreed.)

First - update on the trip: Had a very sobering meeting where we learned a lot about the spread of AIDS in South Africa, the lack of adequate medical care, lack of education, and why it’s getting worse instead of better. More on that later. Second – my fundraising comes to an end this week - the total is due 5/29 - so if anyone was thinking about donating, there’s no day like today! I only have $300 left to be able to go!!

Third, the amazing story involving a four car wreck, Joseph (from the Bible), Janet (from my Bible study), and God's providence.

I'm driving home from a work a few weeks ago and about to meet Janet to get a copy of the Joseph study we're doing. I’m not paying attention when traffic stops and BAM BAM BAM BAM. I slam into the person in front of me who slams into the person in front of them who slams into…well, you get the picture. Four car accident, all caused by moi. (I won’t go into describing the victims except that they could have been characters out of an SNL sketch. Seriously.)

$500 deductible and my car is probably totaled. I’m thinking through my money woes that night – I’m going to need a down payment, how am I going to get around for a while, why do I not have a savings account, why have I not read that Dave Ramsay book I bought last year??? Where IS that Dave Ramsay book I bought last year?? I start thinking about the South Africa trip. Maybe this is God’s way of telling me it’s just not the right time. I go to bed that night so angry at myself but praying, God please show me how something good can come from this. Because I don’t see how it can. It’s not like I’m Job…this is my own fault. I deserve the consequences. But if something good can come from it, please show me.

The next day as my mom takes me to get a rental car we discuss the trip. We agree – if I’m going to go, God’s just not going to GIVE me the money. I need to start making plans. What can I sell? Probably not the TV with the bunny ears. Probably not the couch that was on its way to Hannah Home when I intercepted it. Am I too old for a lemonade stand??

I cry all the way to work and pray. I need to know what you want me to do about the trip, God. How will I know if the wreck is your way of saying, don't go now, or if it's Satan's roadblock? How will I know???

Janet calls to check on me. I tell her I'm worried about the trip. She tells me how God just pulled everything together for her last year in spite of numerous obstacles. Yeah, yeah, I say. Sure. But inside I’m thinking – that was YOU. That kind of thing doesn’t happen to ME. God needed Janet last year. Maybe I'm just not spiritually ready.

Wednesday night Bible study. Joseph. He's been sold into slavery by his brothers, worked hard for the Pharaoh, then accused of adultery and thrown into jail. We think about how we would feel at that point - not knowing how the story ends. It seems natural in hindsight that he would keep his faith because we know what's going to happen. How easy would it be to trust God if he told us exactly how our lives were going to play out. Don't worry, Laura, about what you are going through in April 2009 because September 15, 2010 this will happen and then on December 2, 2011 that will happen, and then you'll see how everything fell into place at exactly the right time. But if we knew all the answers it wouldn’t be faith, would it? Having faith is Joseph making the best of his time in jail not knowing if he'd ever get out. Wednesday night that struck a chord with me. How could he just trust things would work out?

The next day I’m starting to get a little frustrated with God. Are you there? I’m not really getting anything from you. I start to have some little sparks of doubt that I get sometimes. Am I just talking to myself??

Within an hour of being at work I get a call from the church. Someone has heard about my car accident and money concerns and has anonymously donated…get this… Not $20. Not $50, Not even $150. $1175. ONE THOUSAND ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY FIVE FREAKIN’ DOLLARS. What??? I'm speechless. I start crying. I'm overwhelmed. And I know it was God. With this he said, Laura, why do you doubt me? Why do you doubt that I'm going to take care of you? Why do you doubt that when I do, it will be more than you could have imagined? I am in control. I am bigger and more incredible than you give me credit for. Why do you doubt my Word? I WILL glorify myself through your life. I WILL be with you and provide what you need. I hear you when you talk to me.

I now have a renewed sense of faith in all aspects of my life. I can't see the big picture, but that's ok. God is in control and has better things planned for me than I can even dream of. I am humbled. And I have to confess something. I used to secretly scoff at people when they would get all glassy eyed and say fervently, God is so good, isn't He? I would nod in apparent agreement. But I didn't really GET it. I thought, do they REALLY mean that or are they just trying to sound holy? But I get it now. I mean it when I say with total conviction, God is good. And I just said that with glassy eyes and great fervor.

I will need my friends to remind me of this story in the future. Probably tomorrow. Maybe even later today. I wrote all of this in an email right after it happened, and when I was writing it, I remember thinking – I will NEVER DOUBT GOD AGAIN. But, you guessed it. I still wrestle with the same doubts. I wish I could just SEE how everything is going to work out in my life. I wish God would toss off a quick email every now and then with answers to my questions. (Seriously, would it be that hard for him?? Maybe just a text??) But then I can reread this and remember. God is there. And God is good.

Thank you all for the birthday donations! Very much appreciated. Real post coming soon!!

My first South Africa contribution is from my sweet mother. She is the epitome of Christian charity and kindness and would have helped me even if she was living in a tent. I want to both thank her for helping me and for having me on this very day....ummm....29....years ago! Here's a photo of us with my niece Lauren. My dad said on several occasions that she was an angel, and we all look like angels here due to my foray into Photoshopping last night. I have no idea how to use it, but I found the "filter" tab and gave us all a "diffuse glow!"

I accidentally went on a mission trip last year when I just wanted to go to Panera Bread.

I'm serious. I had been going to The Church at Brook Hills for a few months after having been out of church for many, many years. I had recently joined a small group and was going to meet them for dinner. However, they were going to eat after attending a mission trip meeting. What time will you be done, I asked. They didn't know. They suggested I just sit in the meeting with them so we could all go together afterwards. Everyone starts asking me about the trip...are you excited? Have you gotten your passport? Oh...oh....no!!! No!!! I'm not going...I'm just here to meet these guys to go get that great Asian Chicken Salad! I just recently found my Bible in the trunk of my car! Up until a few months ago when my niece asked where Lala went to church, my sister had to regretfully answer, "Bedside Baptist."

Well, lo and behold, June 2008 finds me on a mission trip to Los Mochis, Mexico that changed my life. I've always been up for an adventure, and I left feeling like I was just taking another cool trip that would make for great stories later. I came back with a renewed awe of God's presence, a great group of lifelong friends, amazing stories about fish (more on that later), and the conviction that, at this point in my life, I had no excuse for not doing that again.

So. I'm doing that again. This time to South Africa on an AIDS Hospice Mission this July. More details to follow!