forty days

Forty days seems to be a significant number throughout history.

It rained for forty days and forty nights after Noah built his ark. Moses spent 40 days on a mountain talking to God.  Jesus was tempted for forty days in the desert. We are currently in the 40 days before Easter that many observe as the season of Lent. (and there are more.)

Today, forty is the number of days left before I get on a plane and fly home. Yes, I’ve done this a few other times over the last five years. This time is different. It is not the last time (I will be back), but it is the last time as a full-time resident of Liberia. After five wonderful, horrible, fantastic, life changing, stretching, enriching, painful, years… a change is coming.

The quick and easy answer is that I need to spend time logging some hours to keep my nursing license current. But honestly, it is more than that. I’ve felt this transition coming, God has been preparing me for this and even though I don’t know if this is a temporary arrangement or the start of something else completely, I know this is the next step.

It is a little surreal. As I’ve been preparing for this over the last several months, it feels as if life has brought me full circle— In forty days I’ll be moving back into my old house. In forty days I’ll be starting back at the same hospital I used to work at. In forty days I’ll be returning to my church and friends and family (minus a few dear ones I’ve lost over the last few years) that I left behind when I started this journey. In forty days I say goodbye to the kids who have literally changed my life, my world view, my heart. In forty days I’ll be leaving behind friends and family here in Liberia.  And let’s be honest here, in forty days I’ll be walking the halls of Target and sipping a Starbucks.

In forty days everything is going to change. In forty days a lot is going to be the same as I left it, but somehow different… because I’ve been changed and the world has changed.

All this is happening in 40 days. A few weeks ago I realized that I am leaving on Easter, March 31, 2013. I booked the ticket months ago but never realized what day it was. (This is significant… are you ready for this?) When I left the US for Liberia five years ago, it was on Easter morning! Two words-- full circle. One more-- wow!

{I realized after I posted a status on facebook earlier today about ‘forty days to go,’ that, based on some of the comments I received, I have maybe not been as good at explaining to people my plans as I thought I have. If you have questions please feel free to e-mail me- debbie @ orronline [dot] org. I’m not trying to keep anything a secret, and am happy to talk about my plans (as I know them) so far.}

Happy Valentine's Day!

"When love does, life gets interesting." -Bob Goff

Love ya lots!

Armed Forces Day (redux)

Piko, Leighanne, Ma Mary, me, and Carissa at the beach this afternoon.

Today was our 5th annual Armed Forces Day swim with Ma Mary and Piko. 

I love that we still celebrate this way!

The surf was not that fun today-- strong currents and huge waves crashing right on the beach-- but it did not stop us from laughing and frolicking and getting sand in places where, well, sand is just not welcome.

To remember why we started this tradition read the original Armed Forces Day blog I posted on February 11, 2009.

This is Amah

Amah is about 13 years old. He loves to laugh-- his smile brightens the room. He loves to play card games or soccer with his friends at the orphanage where he lives. He has a tumor growing on his knee.

Multiple doctors that have examined him concur that the only viable treatment plan for him is not available in Liberia. Best case scenario he will need a series of surgeries to remove the tumor from the bone and rebuild his leg. Worst case-- full blown cancer treatment. Either way he is looking at long-term treatment, and ongoing follow-up care. The best option for Amah at this point seems to be adoption.

I am NOT writing this blog in search of an adoptive family for Amah. Several families have already come forward with interest and I am hopeful that one of those will be the perfect match for him.

I am writing this blog to ask that you pray earnestly with me for Amah, for Amah's new family and for me as I try and facilitate this process. This is not a small thing. A lot has to fall into place for Amah to get to the states and his medical care can not begin until he gets there.

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be." Psalm 139:13-16

I am confident that our God, who created Amah, and knit him together, can and will make a way for him.

Thank you for your prayers.

God, Moses, the Israelites and me.

I was reading this morning in Exodus (chapter 6) about Moses and the Israelites (God’s people = all of us). The Israelites had been slaves in Egypt for generations and God was ready to rescue them, to finally set them free. He sent Moses to talk to the king of Egypt and asked him to let His people go. Not too surprisingly, the king of Egypt said, “No!"

Moses was kinda mad at God after this conversation with the king. He marches right back to Him and asks why in the world would He tell him to go do all of this, to risk his life, if it wasn’t going to work. This is God’s response—

“Then the Lord said to Moses, “Now you will see what I will do to Pharaoh: Because of my mighty hand he will let them go; because of my mighty hand he will drive them out of his country.”

God also said to Moses, “I am the Lord.  I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob as God Almighty,  but by my name the Lord I did not make myself fully known to them. I also established my covenant with them to give them the land of Canaan, where they resided as foreigners.  Moreover, I have heard the groaning of the Israelites, whom the Egyptians are enslaving, and I have remembered my covenant.

“Therefore, say to the Israelites: ‘I am the Lord, and I will bring you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians. I will free you from being slaves to them, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with mighty acts of judgment. I will take you as my own people, and I will be your God. Then you will know that I am the Lord your God, who brought you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians. And I will bring you to the land I swore with uplifted hand to give to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob. I will give it to you as a possession. I am the Lord.’” vs 5-8.

Did you catch all that?

I am the LORD. (Yaweh, I Am Who I Am, I will always be)

I have heard…

I have remembered…

I will bring you out…

I will free you…

I will redeem you with an outstretched arm… 

I will take you as my own…

I will be your God…

I will bring you to the land I promised... 

I am the LORD. (He says it again, actually three times. He is saying, I am always there and in control, trust me.)

What words of promise. Who doesn’t want to hear that affirmation?

You are heard. You are known. You will be rescued. You will be redeemed. You belong to someone who loves you.

Then the very next verse says something interesting—

“Moses reported this to the Israelites, but they did not listen to him because of their discouragement and cruel bondage.” vs 9

This is so sad. I wonder if they didn’t listen because they couldn’t listen? Their circumstances were pretty extreme-- severely oppressed, laboring all day to meet impossible quotas. Maybe they were so wrapped up in despair, in their own particular, absolutely horrible situation, that they could not accept the promises, the hope, the rescue, the way out that God was offering them?

Don’t I (don’t we all) have times like this? Times where I am too discouraged to feel, to see, to accept the truth? Times where I am so wrapped up in my own circumstances, my own distorted reality, my own jealousies, to accept the truth that God wants to rescue me from it? (That sounds like cruel bondage to me.)

Since I was a teenager, and started reading these stories on my own, I’ve had a love-hate relationship with the Israelites. I totally understand their struggles and am completely frustrated with them for their constant complaining and circular acceptance of God’s gifts to them. When it comes down to it I think I am most annoyed with them because they remind me of myself.

God help me (help us all) to accept the freedom from cruel bondage that you continually offer to rescue us from. The question really comes down to will we let you?