How do I even begin to describe last week?
In 1988, my mom was a young, married girl preparing to go on her first mission trip. “Where to?” you ask.
In 1988, she was ready to go. She wanted to go.
However, shortly before the sign ups she found out she was pregnant with my older brother, Ryan. Her & my dad decided it would be better for her to wait to go to Haiti.
She waited. And waited. In the midst of the waiting, she poured herself out for others, she sacrificed, & she stewarded the opportunities placed in front of her well.
She always prayerfully supported my brother & I going on mission trips. We went to inner-city Chicago several times, & then in the spring of 2011, Ryan & I came with our home church for the 1st time to Mission of Hope.
I think it goes without saying, but I loved it 😉
I applied for the internship at Mission of Hope in 2012, & after I was accepted into the program, my mom shared with me the story about her signing up to come to Haiti in 1988 & then not being able to go.
She did not share that story with a single ounce of bitterness. She shared that story because it was such a unique similarity between the two of us. A desire that the Lord had woven into both of our hearts. If you know me & my mom – we are similar & yet very different at the exact same time. I think we would both agree that our differences are probably greater than our similarities.
But this? This was a similarity woven so deep that she couldn’t not share.
See, I had never known that my mom had planned on coming to Haiti before she & my dad had Ryan & I.
I had never known that my mom was watching me live out a desire of hers.
I’ve been back to Haiti multiple times since March of 2011, & now live here (since September of ’13). My mom has heard story after story of the friendships I have been blessed by here in Haiti. She has heard about things the Lord has taught me. She has heard about the housing project, she has heard about the church, she has heard all about Mission of Hope. She has heard about all of it for 3+ years. She has looked at photos, read blogs & stories about things I’ve experienced here, studied my friend’s names, asked questions…For 3 years she patiently listened, supported, & prayed for me.
Last week, my mom came to Haiti.
She met the friends that she has seen photos of & heard stories of. They met my precious mom that they had seen photos of & heard about.
My beautiful mom stepped foot on the soil that she has been desiring to visit for 25+ years. She planted trees, she painted homes, she held babies, she prayed with single mothers.
If you hear one thing, hear this: Those 25+ years of “waiting” were not wasted at all. The Lord would be just as good & just as sovereign if my mom was never able to come to Haiti. But He allowed her to get to be here, & to see the people she has prayed for & the fruit of her prayers. I deeply respect my mom because in the middle of the “wait” – she lived. She sacrificed. She loved. She prayed. She trusted. She poured herself out.
I am a misty-eyed mess as I write this post.
I love you, mom.
The Lord is faithful, friends.