Hope and Foolishness

My main goal behind starting the Four Bears blog was to offer some humor in your life.  I hope you've had a laugh or two so far (at my expense).  As this blog evolves (since, it's a mere babe in blog land years) I figure that I might occasionally litter some real thoughts here and there.  

Today will be one of those days.  I tried to come up with something funny last night.  But it just wasn't working for me.  Really.  I tried.  But it seems I was overpowered.  And the following post won out.

This week I made a heartbreaking decision.  I decided not to join my church's final organized mission trip to Kenya.  Many of you know that I've been on this trip 2 times already.  Many of you also know that my experiences in Kenya altered my life.

Altered.  Literally.  The definition of the word alter is:  to make different in some particular; to modify.  I believed that this mission altered - made different - modified - my spiritual DNA.  I returned the same jovial Mama Bear on the outside, but with my insides - my spirit - literally turned inside out.  

I intended to go back again.  And then Sugar Bear blessed us.  Pregnancy came and went, and I thought I might be able to go on our December trip this year.  Due to multiple reasons, the church had already cancelled at least 2 trips, and our 3 year commitment was quickly coming to a close.  However,  I was still sure I could make it back.  This spring the church announced that the August trip would be our final organized trip.  "Drat!" " That's 3 months sooner!" I was thinking.  

Ever the optimist, I actually began to ponder the possibility of going in August.  And then reality hit me like a ton of bricks.  I would have to wean Sugar Bear earlier than I had planned.  Brother Bear would start kindergarten 12 days after my return.  My MOPS group (that I'm co-leading this year) would be in full planning mode.  And, of course, the cost.  Clearly, there were some mighty obstacles.  Still, I delayed the inevitable.  I ignored the clear signs saying, "not this trip".  I just couldn't face it.  I didn't want to admit to the reality that I just couldn't go.

Finally, this week, I said the words I was unable to form - unable to utter.  I said, "no."  

And then my heart shattered into a million little pieces.

As I told you, this mission altered me.  And I knew that in saying no, a door to a time in my life that was a significant part of making me the woman who sits here and types today was gently closing behind me.  I'm mourning that closure.  But I recognize that, while I'm watching one door close, there is another swinging wide open that I don't even see.  I can't wait to see it and walk, no, run towards it.  Because - so far - life has taught me that forward is better.  Forward is where I'm supposed to be.

But, for today, I'll mourn a little.  And I'll open my heart a little to let you see.

I'm currently reading Phillip Yancey's, Prayer - Does It Make Any Difference?  I came across this passage last night.  As I question God's logic in letting me fall in love with these children who are just too far away, I was at a loss after this.  I'll end with this passage.    

Franciscan Benediction

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships.  So that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.  

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make an difference in the world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.

To bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.

Amen.

Her name, translated, means HOPE.

This is the HOPE and FOOLISHNESS that altered my life.