February 20, 3am. I am scared to death. I know that God called me to be on this trip, but I just want to stay home. It's easier there. I don't want to know what is going on outside my bubble. I know there are hurts and there are pains, but I can barely handle my own. Obedience. I hear ya Lord, obedience.
I have felt, for as long as I can remember, a tugging toward missions. I kept it hidden in a secret little box for nobody to see. Can someone call me Jonah? Like I said earlier, it's easier to just live each day thinking about yourself and your immediate family, but I knew there was more. All along, I knew there was more.
Now the word of the LORD came to Jonah the second time, saying, "Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and preach to it the message that I tell you." Jonah 3:1-2.Thank you Lord for second chances... and thirds, and fourths...
So, I boarded the plane from Miami to Haiti with my vessel completely empty, waiting to see how God would fill it. Little did I know how much he would break that heart open wide and use all sorts of different colors of tape and glue to put it back together.