Gratitude

Last night, I dreamed I was back in Bolivia.

I dreamed it was the night before a flight to the United States and I was surrounded by the familiar pain of packing, cleaning, exhaustion and saying goodbyes.  It felt real and miserable and I didn't know if I could go through it all again. I trembled on the verge of just staying behind.  Opting out.  Leaving behind commitments, responsibilities, family, whatever and just not saying, "goodbye." Curling up in the empty house and letting whatever would happen, happen.

That ripping, that tearing away, was always the most painful part for me of our years with the mission.  The leaving.  The crying. The wondering. I ached for something I couldn't have. I wanted all the people, places and things I loved to be together in one place.

But that couldn't be a realistic option.  I had to push through hard goodbyes to get to good hellos. I had to move--12 houses in 13 years--because God was calling us to do things for him.  And sometimes those miraculous, marvelous, unbelievable things meant suffering a little bit.
 
Unaware I was dreaming, I groaned and kicked at my covers.  I awoke with a very real pain, a very real nausea in the pit of my stomach.

And then, I thought of a woman named Michele Cushatt.  She was going to be a speaker this year at the writing conference I attended with my mom (c.f.  "Rock, Paper. . .  and Pen" post at http://www.janinethrossel.com/2015/02/rock-paper-and-pen.html ).

I didn't know until yesterday that Michele is in a giant battle with cancer.  It began in her tongue. . .and she is a professional speaker and communicator!  She could lose her ability to speak.

She has faced numerous surgeries and other treatments and has had seasons where she could not eat or talk.  And yesterday I heard her say that instead of focusing on what she has lost, she is learning to be grateful for what she has left.  What?

Instead of focusing on what she has lost, she is learning to be grateful for what she has left.

When I woke up from my nightmare, I looked around my room and remembered her.  And I thought of how much God has brought INTO my life.  How GRATEFUL I am to be back in my home state, near family and friends.  How THANKFUL I am for my sweet family of four that is together, intact, and has remained together, from house to house.  How AWESTRUCK I am for God's grace to me. How WONDERFUL He is.  How FANTASTIC it is to be in the center of His plan for us, right now and in this moment.

And I thought of how that "me" in my dream should have called her fellow packing buddies and family together and told them she needed some help.  She needed them to surround her and pray for her, that she would have some more strength for the journey!  I know that then she would have been able to face that imaginary move like we faced all the real ones.

So, dear reader, what does this all have to do with you?

Well, if it helps you count your blessings in the midst of your aches, I would be so very glad.  If it reminds you to pray for missionaries that you know, I would be overjoyed.  If it reminds you to pray for my family and me?  I would be elated about that, too. 

God is good and faithful in all things.  He gives us so much.  Bless Him today.