Shaky Feet, Solid Ground.
Four years ago, I was packing up my life in the Pacific Northwest. Deciding what to get rid of, what to pack away, what to bring with me into this new adventure I was embarking on. I was moving to Haiti. There is no way I could have known then what that would mean or how it would change my life. No way I could have prepared for this adventure to quickly become my home, my normal, and for these people to become my family. But that’s what happened and I love my life here. I have my dream job, an incredible community, and am constantly challenged and given opportunities to grow. People ask me all the time how much longer I will be in Haiti and my answer has always been, I don’t know. I didn’t move here with a timeline in mind, I just moved here, and for a long time, couldn’t see myself anywhere else. About a year and a half ago that started to change. For the first time since I moved away, I thought maybe I could see myself back in the states.
For the first time I started wondering what it would look like for me to live the life I was learning in Haiti, back in my own country. Started wondering if that might actually be better. There are a lot of people in America that need to be loved, that need to know family, that need someone to fight for them. And not to discredit my time in Haiti, but was I gaining knowledge and skills that might actually be better implemented amongst my own people, in my own culture, speaking my own language? I started to get excited about the prospect. And that was a new feeling. Haiti was still home, still where I wanted to be. So I started praying and asking God to show me his timeline. I’d stay in Haiti as long as he wanted me to, as long as I was healthy and effective, and as long as my helping wasn’t hurting. The longer I was in Haiti, the more I realized how difficult and complex it really is to be effective and helpful as a foreigner. I didn’t want to stay for myself, or because of my attachment to the kids and I didn’t want to leave burnt out, bitter, and hurt. So I told the Lord these things and kept my eyes open for what was next.
What I thought would maybe be a few more months, has turned into a year and a half, a new job, and an incredible journey that I wouldn’t have traded. But the next thing is quickly approaching. In December I will be packing up my life once more, and moving back the United States of America. I made this decision in January, creating a loose timeline for myself, including the time I just spent in the states as a way of starting that transition. I’ve held this decision loosely and shared it apprehensively, open to a change of heart, looking for a reason to stay. But I can’t find one. Every time I’ve had moments of doubting this decision, I am almost immediately reassured that it is right and that it’s time.
It might sound crazy, but I have literally felt God quietly calming me down, countering my doubts, and encouraging me forward. Sometimes it’s something a friend says, sometimes it’s something I read, and sometimes it is just this feeling in my heart or a thought that comes to my mind that I know is truth. I don’t know that I’ve ever heard God’s voice so clearly. I am so thankful for his patience and pursuit, because I have struggled with this decision constantly. To be honest, I’m scared, overwhelmed, and have no idea what many of the details look like. But here I go. I’ve spent months praying, seeking counsel, and am now answering the question of, “how long do you think you’ll be in Haiti?”, with a date. God has met me in those vulnerable places with encouragement, comfort, community, hope, and his promises. Promises to be faithful, to give my life purpose, to provide for me and establish me, and give me strength… and new friends! So in everything that I’m feeling, I’m also really excited and full of peace. I love the fact that our level of faith does not change who God is. Stepping out in faith doesn’t mean that I am full of confidence, because I’m often not. But because the object of my faith is so steadfast, so trustworthy, I can step forward with shaky feet and still land on solid ground. He is there, he is good, and I am loved.
