sandy, rough black-bottomed feet

The Word has been encouraging me so much lately. Actually, it tends do that whenever I let it.

I have been having an interesting time at this point in my life. I feel as though my heart is being pulled in about 23 different directions. Okay. Only about 7. Still... 7 is 6 too many.

I remember when I stepped foot on this island to 2 months ago to finish up my time here in Hopetown. Oh how hard it was to come back to this little tiny island, far away from the mountains I love so much, far away from the man I love so much, far away from the two most precious girls and their mommy I love so much, far away from the Chickfila I LOVE so much.... needless to say, physically I was back in Hopetown, but emotionally my heart was miles away.

So I prayed.

And then I went about my life, struggling for about 4 weeks to be here. Luckily the Lord knew that I wouldn't have been able to do it alone. That's why an angel named Kristen came back with me for this leg of my adventure.

Days passed, slowly. But, each new day was a little faster than the last.

And here we are. November 16, 2011. The speed of today was far too fast. 32 days left. I dread December 19th. I can't even buy my plane ticket home. I AM home. This old couch that has seated smelly 12 year old boys every week for years is the couch I call mine. The hot water knob in the shower that falls off every time you take a shower is my faithfully broken knob. The TV that doesn't like to clearly play DVDS without you coaxing it for 5 minutes before watching a movie is my stubborn TV. The beloved bike I ride everywhere is my transportation. The ocean where I walk every day to find sea glass is my backyard. The lady who works in Ebb Tide, the same lady who sits faithfully in her seat every Sunday at church, the same lady who everyone knows as Granny- she is my Granny. The grungy old man with a filthy mouth and a heart of gold that knows everything about these waters we are surrounded by, is affectionately known as Maitland- my troublemaker. The children, oh the children whom I see everyday be it at Christmas play practice, or in the Grocery store, or at piano lessons, or when they come to my house to bring me a flower or a sweet treat, those are my children. The kids who come into my home at least twice a week, hungry to live for something other than the unfulfilling ways they see most everyone around them practice, those are my kids. The man and woman whose whom home I go into whenever I please, if I need cinnamon, or if the power is out, or if I need water that doesn't taste funny, that's Mrs. Carrie and Mo, my angels. Do you see? I'm home.

What's the point of all this? Well, just tonight I was sitting here on that same smelly couch I was telling you about earlier, pondering life. Why do I have to leave? Could I stay? How did this place outsmart me and when did it become my home? How am I going to leave? Where is my heart? If only it had Chickfila!

(From my journal)
"Friday, September 16, 2011....'Back in Hopetown'. Father, thank you for giving us a safe trip. We've already been so blessed seeing Mrs. Jane, Ms. Lucille, Ellie, Eden, Tristan, Britt and Dana... and heather making us yummy food.
Lord, please put my heart here. I DO want to end this time well. I refuse to half ass do anything. Give me a heart and concern for them here, especially the kids. Keep me in Your Word. Help me feel settled in. May I know this is all Yours."

Folks, I know I am one life living in the midst of the chaos of 7 billion other people's lives, but He answers prayers. He does. He answers mine. He answers yours. Unfortunately in this case, and for some reason surprisingly, He did it well (typical behaviour of this God I love....) I wanted my heart to be here, for these kids especially. And IT IS. I love riding bike through town and spotting a tourist just by the way they walk. I love going to church that should take 2.5 minutes on a bike, but takes 10 minutes because you see 5 people along the way to stop and see how their day is. I love that I am trapped on an island and the only way to get off is by boat. I love that if you need something, someone knows somebody that has that something for you (and it is usually in hand with 24 hours). I love that when someone is in need, the community has a fundraiser. I love that you know where to find Mr. Don at 5 o'clock on a Monday night- Jacks, a "small one" in front of him, getting ready to play bingo. I love the sound of generators because you know that everyone is wondering when the power is going to come back on. I love that I can learn about things not many people in the world can learn about, like hauling, and experience it in incredible ways.

I love how the Lord did not let my flesh rob my heart from the joy of finding its home here. 32 days are going to come, the Lord willing. And my bags will be packed, and I will purchase that plane ticket. And I will leave, reluctantly, but I will. However, this crazy little island in the middle of the ocean will always be a home to me.

My prayers were answered. And now I have to start praying the next prayer, for the next season. Lord, help my heart leave. Just as He answered the last one, I believe He will answer this one, beautifully and sufficiently. But help me pray it Father.

"How then can they call no one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach unless they are sent? As it is written, 'How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news." Romans 9:14-15

I've been sent. All because someone was sent to me. And my hope is now that as I leave they too will be sent, and accept the how beautiful there feet can be. My sandy, rough black-bottomed feet are considered beautiful, all because of the Good News.