You know those days where your head is so congested that every time you stand you get a taste of what vertigo is all about?
This random cold, probably obtained through exhaustion, has kept me seated most of the day. I’ve gotten up long enough to get coffee, prepare dinner, and move some dirty clothes around. That’s about it. My day has been ended, so I’ve spent the remainder of it on the couch working on messages and emails from the previous week.
Those were the words pacing through my brain as the paved lanes passed before me heading back into the comforts of my home last night. As stated in earlier messages during the recent mission trip, I had high hopes of rekindling my love with the thing that hurt the most in spiritual warfare, damage, etc…being mission minded and having fun. Continue reading →
Home is a success.
Keeping it short tonight.
Six hours later we returned home.
Me with a runny nose.
After showering and changing clothes, Darco and I headed back into the city for a wedding.
Now we’re finally home…
Now I’m officially sick…
What day is it,
And in what hour?
The clock never felt so alive.
I’ve completely lost track of time down in southern Missouri. I’ve given up on tracking the days and instead I’ll just go with the flow.
The group had a unique opportunity on Tuesday. Down the road is a city called Poplar Bluff. Here one can find a halfway-house situation for women recovering from addiction (addiction to drugs and alcohol is a serious pandemic in the area). We have several female youth with us, and they were beyond thrilled to be able to work with this home called “Recycling Grace”. A few ladies were kind enough to share their stories, and a few hugs, with the group.
At “Recycling Grace” the organization has been allotted several rental properties throughout the community. Our crews main task was to work with paint scrapers and wire brushes on the porch of one of the rental properties.
The. Amount. Of. Paint.
To show you how skiddish some people are, we had started on the porch of this duplex when this woman, in nothing but a towel, steps outside in broad daylight fearing she’s being robbed by us (paint scrapers near windows do that I suppose).
I’m still amazed at how easy it is to pack up, grab a passport, and disappear to another country as a missionary, when in so many ways, the same problems plague our own communities.
We’re mulching again tomorrow. The heat hasn’t stopped us yet.
It’s not even 6:00AM on Friday morning, and I’m staring at the ceiling. Like all good things, this trip is drawing to an end.
Last night was one of the more humorous events of the entire week. Armed with a snow-cone machine and some giant, neon poster boards, we took the crew to the local baseball complex.
Simple. Give away free snow-cones.
Darco, armed with syrup pumps (funny how God uses barista training), started dishing out the cones. The rest of us vanished into the streets and parking lots letting people know about the opportunity (note: growing out the beard has one drawback…a grown man with a beard, telling kids about free snow-cones at a park…borderline creepy).
In total we served up 250 snow-cones, made several new friends through the kids showing up, and were thoroughly blessed by cooler weather and a nice southern breeze. This was a nice change up from the 102℉ we witnessed while throwing mulch on Wednesday. Interesting factoid though, our group was able to successfully disperse all mulch to all playgrounds throughout the school district. With no heat sickness, and no injuries with the pitchforks being used. That’s rather impressive in my book. Personally, I get so much joy doing physical labor as a service. I’m thinking that’s because I’ve been going that route on missions for years.
It’s 6:00AM, time to shower, eat, pack, and hit the road.
Those were the words, three hours in, that I heard being asked in my direction. Heading to far, south Missouri what was my intent? My purpose?
Riding with a member from our house church group, I tried my best to swallow my pride and be honest.
I want to find my love again.
It was the first time to anyone in our group that I had openly spoken about my divorce. It’s this hidden guilt that I don’t want to acknowledge for fear of being rejected, but in the moment of this question it was needed. I spoke of my love for mission work, it’s the one thing within the church that I’ve always enjoyed. Because it was so close to my heart, it’s what took the biggest hit when I became divorced. I was convinced that I was on the disabled list for good. “God can’t use blemishes to do cool stuff like missions…”, I’d mumble to myself.
There's fans! And air conditioning in our dorm!
My personal prayer is that humility during this mission trip, with this close group, can heal…spiritually…in an area that I 100% desire to be back alive. It’s a short, calm, safe trip so the environment is ideal. My hope is that as time progresses I can work up to where I once was.
You just watch, Darco isn’t afraid of international travel.