A Serendipitous Series of Events (Part Two)

It was November. I'd been planning a trip to Guayaquil, Ecuador in March to visit Milka, the girl I sponsor through Compassion International. I visited her the year before, and saw some needs at her project that I wanted to help meet. I' submitted a request to help with a building project, but the wheels of of the approval process were turning slowly. I wouldn't be able to get a team together by March, so I began to think of other destinations. I pondered the idea of visiting Yamil, the boy I sponsor in Bolivia. His birthday is in March, I hadn't met him yet, and I'd never been to Bolivia. I have the time off, why not?

Exodus 4:13 used to be one of my favorite Bible verses and I still like that I liked it: “But Moses said, 'O Lord, please send someone else to do it.'” This was essentially my response when an email from World On Campus arrived in my inbox in mid-December with a link to a story about a girl who started orphanages in Bolivia. 


http://www.worldoncampus.com/2011/12/a_house_of_love_for_bolivia_s_abandoned_babies

Bolivia! I was immediately intrigued. Bolivia had not been on my radar for three weeks, yet in such a short time there were two pips. As I read the article, I felt a strong pressure to visit the orphanages. God has given me a special fondness for children in general, but orphans and children in poverty in particular. My spirit was stirred by Jennifer's willingness to follow God's call to the least of these.

The seed had been watered.

I pulled up google maps and saw that Cochabamba would be many hours out of my way, however. I planned to travel from La Paz to Potosi, and back. A side trip to Cochabamba would add many hours. How should I initiate contact anyway, just drop a random email out of the sky? Jennifer will probably think I'm trying to hit on her. Plus, kids are cool, but babies scare me. They puke and cry and poop. What would I even do? I've only ever changed two wet diapers.

Nope, I'm not going to do it.

I put Cochabamba out of my mind.

In late December, a different verse began to rattle around in my head – Isaiah 6:8 “Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, 'Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?' And I said, 'Here am I. Send me!'”

Yet even as I pondered these verses, I was cynical there would ever be a call. I've prayed this prayer before and nothing ever came from it. Why would it be different this time? I wrote in my journal on December 24^th: “I think I've completely derailed God's plan for my life and I'm headed down an alternate path of uselessness now. Beyond redemption. No real great good will come from this. I'm taking up space.”

Fertilizer.

On December 27th, my friend and former pastor, now living and working at a home for abused, abandoned and poor girls in Arequipa, Peru, posted a link to a blog on his facebook wall. This blog was about the adventures of another couple who had moved to Cochabamba, Bolivia. They were at times involved in helping at the Homes of Love, the very Homes of Love from the World on Campus article! Three pips on the radar now – constant bearing, decreasing range – all converging on one place. Eventually even I begin to recognize God's hand.

I asked my boss for an extra week of vacation.

He approved.

I bought my tickets.

In early February, I read “Kisses from Katie,” a book by a girl who moved to Uganda, started a child sponsorship ministry, and adopted 14 children by the time she was 22 years old. Katie's story rumbled in my heart like the Haitian earthquake.

Another sprinkle of water.

This was my reaction to the book in my journal: “I want that kind of life, on the edge of faith, more than I can handle so that God must handle it. I want to have to depend on God, and be unable to do it on my own. I'm okay now. Life is pretty good. I don't really need God. I don't need Him desperately all the time. So He doesn't step into my situation in miraculous ways. It's all too safe and comfortable and predictable and boring and small. I was made for more than this. I was made to live on the edge for God. I kind of want to be called.”

Be careful what you ask for.

Journaling again one night on my desk calendar, I stopped, jolted by the idea. I stared into space as I turned it over in my mind. Would I ever do such a thing? It seems so far fetched! Lee's question came back to me. What if I moved to Bolivia someday? The Homes of Love orphanages were connected with a hospital and the information I found at the time indicated they were planning an expansion. “Hmmm, maybe I could help them with their build after we complete our own here in Chelan.”

The seed was sprouting.

To be continued. . . !