Glimpses

"You know nothing, John Snow".  

The oft-repeated line from Game of Thrones played in my head repeatedly through our time at Samaritan's Purse Orientation.  I stood on a mountain and listened to Ed Morrow, director of World Medical Mission, tell stories of his ministry in impossibly remote and hostile places.  I heard tales from Jim Moore, a ninja medical technician for Samaritan's Purse, who gave example after example of what he called "God's on-time supply chain" in which equipment would arrive in the warehouse at the precise moment of a need arising at a hospital in Africa. . .or when he traveled halfway around the world to repair a life-saving device and found the necessary replacement part literally sticking out of the sand in a desert junkyard.

I picture heaven less as streets of gold and more as the experience of perpetually having my mind-blown.  Finally seeing the behind the scenes - the plans that were orchestrated, the perfection, the love, the purpose.  Nothing accidental and nothing at all short of amazing.

I feel this week as if I saw just a little glimpse of it. . . that Ari, the girls, and I are just 4 drops of water in a massive tide.  We are being carried along by those around us, following those who have gone before us, and preparing the way for those behind.  Though it might appear chaotic or random at a glance, the tide is actually moving in perfectly orchestrated harmony.*

Orientation was just that. . .a reminder to orient and look north and have my mind blown.  Realizing that I know nothing, but catching a glimpse, an absolutely amazing glimpse, of just how loved we are.

*yes the tide is working in perfect harmony, but no, it is not Crimson as far as I can tell:)

"For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known".

What ifs

              Last week, we rested with my family in South Carolina. My mom and dad brought  together the men and women who have loved me from the day I was born, and they surrounded us with the peace that comes with unconditional love. I soaked in bits of wisdom on the waves of the lake, laughed so hard my sides hurt around the dinner table, got up on skis for the first time on a dare from my daughter,  and shared in the joys and struggles of my sisters, aunts, and uncles.  I paused for a moment, reveling in the humbling and certain reality that we are surrounded by phenomenal people who love us fiercely.

             From there, I headed north to Bristol for the beginning of our Samaritan's Purse Orientation. As I flew into Tennessee, the news flooded with the story of Dr. Brantly's fight with Ebola.  The risks involved in our journey confronted us on every screen and in every story. Kent Brantly is one of us -  literally - a Samaritan's Purse Post resident who had sat in our seats only 12 months ago. 

             Our colleague faced the crisis we feared, and we watched Samaritan's Purse mobilize -  seeing first hand the passion and love of the organization that has adopted us . We talked about replacing fear with strength, replacing worry with trust. I called David in tears and we played the "what if?" game.  What if the risk became greater?  Would we still go? And we rested in the insanity of the answer - Yes.

           Sitting in orientation, I listened to the stories of doctors who had come before us.  My heart resonated not with the stories of the best days or sunsets or safaris, but in the moments where God's strength resonated in weakness. Where He met them in the Rwandan genocide or the Kenyan bush or in the clefts of the Sudanese cliffs - the stories when the impossible was solved with the perfect plan,  the dilemma was reconciled with improbable schemes, and where provision came in desperate need. 

           The one thing we know for certain is that we are loved, and that whatever happens, this love is bigger than any illness or danger we could encounter in the world.  This love is so amazing that we don't want to miss a second of it because of fear.  So we go, not because it is safe or noble or even known, but because this is next for us and He goes with us.

-ari