Mi Diario de la Republica Dominicana

Note: This is a revised version of my journal entries. Because journaling is my place to vent, my entries included some personal and possibly offensive things that are not for the public eye. However, they also were my initial reactions to the events of this trip and therefore are the most accurate and heartfelt. So, like Anne Frank's dad, I am simply rewording and/or taking out some things so it may be published. Enjoy!

el diez de julio, 2011
Phew.
I am in my DR bed. The bed I've been anxiously awaiting for two weeks. And it feels so good.
Literally right before I left my house for church this morning at two, I started to lose my voice. No idea why. I feel fine other than my throat. Of course typical Liz went and talked up a storm all day, despite her voice increasingly and continuously deteriorating. Right now it's pretty much shot. It's incredibly painful to get even a slightest sound out of my mouth, and that sound is pretty pathetic. I don't know what God's reasoning is for this, and frankly, it would be absolutely pointless to try and figure it out. I'll just have to wait and see what happens. And my other thoughts on this will come when whatever happens happens.

We had a ridiculously long day of travel today, but it was really pretty smooth. Our flight went much faster because we got a tailwind, and we got absolutely no traffic on the bus ride to Barahona (as opposed to last year). We are all exhausted. Rightly so.
I feel like I'm home. This little mountaintop is just how I left it, and I feel like I was here yesterday. This is what I was made for. Something radical happened in my heart as I was taking in my surroundings upon first arriving, and I don't know, I just don't know where God is going to be taking me. For the longest time I've been so set on the whole graduate high school, go to Messiah College or somewhere cool like that, go on mission trips and do ministry, get my BSN, get a nursing job, get married and have kids and write books and speak. Quick, before these years swallow me up and instead of gazing into my baby's eyes, I'm gazing into my baby's baby's eyes. Quick, before I die.
And maybe I will do that. That is not a bad life to live. Or maybe I will do something much more radical. Maybe I will be a missionary in some foreign land that needs love. Love is so much more powerful than it's ever made out to be. And yet it is so accessible.
Maybe I should slow down.
Taking time for spiritual growth when you could be doing more "practical" things like going to school or making babies often looked at as a time waster. And that is really sad.
And I don't know what this means, but I've never felt more at home anywhere but here. Even though all the food and climate differences can make me sick, I don't speak the language, and the culture is hard to adapt to. This is my home.
So I can't talk. I can listen, think, feel, pray, write, and worship in my heart. And for now, that is more than enough for me.
"Everything rides on hope now. Everything rides on faith somehow." ~Addison Road

el once de julio, 2011 -- Bridget's 16th birthday!
Watching and listen to people worship is a really amazing thing. I can't explain it, but I am really blessed by this voice loss right now.
Today we went out street witnessing and I really just felt a need to go and be a "silent witness." So I went and listened and prayed. And I was blessed.
People have prayed over me and my voice several times today, and it has been so encouraging. I'm a bit frustrated and discouraged, but I'm giving it over to God.

I really learned a lot today about when helping hurts when we fed the people. It was stressful, but we were more than conquerors through Christ Jesus.
Bill did a devotional tonight for the team about spiritual productivity -- both here and at home. I've been thinking a lot about being radical for Jesus. It's an amazing thing. When a believer truly continuously picks up her cross and obeys and served God radically, it eventually become that what once was radical is now self-satisfying and it's a beautiful thing, that process. I really want to partake in it, because I think it is one of the best ways to grow in the Lord.

trece de julio, 2011
Last night I wasn't really in a writing mood, but tonight it is vital.
Today is hump day, which by definition means it starts to get hard.
I miss my mommy so much. I don't want to go home yet, but I just want to hear her voice. I just really need the reassurance and love that only my mommy can provide.
None of this was affecting me this morning. I was slightly homesick and looking forward to hearing from my mom, but I was absolutely fine and went on with ministry as normal. Encouragement has been applied wrong to me today, and I'm not a fan of being patronized. So that was something I've had to give over to God.
Oh yeah, I got my voice back. Praise the Lord!

Today I was given the opportunity to just love on the kids, in particular one chico named Michael. He is SO friendly and loving, and I love him so much. So many young souls were saved tonight at VBS, and Bill prayed that God will reunite us with one of those precious children when we meet Him.
God is good. And I am tired, bitter, homesick, burnt and bitten. But God is still good. And really, that is nothing compared to all He went through for me. So I'll suck it up, be joyful, and praise God.

el quince de julio, 2011
Yesterday I got to share my testimony with the kids -- that was cool. There is a horrible stomach bug going around and I'm praying that no one else gets it. The trip is almost over -- today was our last ministry day. It went so fast. One part of me feels like we haven't been here nearly long enough and wants to stay here for at least another month. But another part of me is totally ready to go home. And still another part thinks of Mother Teresa and reprimands myself for needing the reprieve of "la casa de Bill" (as los dominicanos call it) every day and wanting to come home so bad after a week.

It's sad for me to see Satan creeping into the team. And in the most unexpected ways. He is trying to stop us from loving on the people, and a lot of people are not recognizing that this is wrong. Love is the only thing we have. It's so sad to see people buying into his lies say it's okay to make compromises in love. Love made with compromises is not love. Jesus told us there would be a price to pay. And what a small price it is compared to the one He paid.
"I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who lives, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." ~Galatians 2:20
Couldn't have said it better myself. If we've come here to do anything besides pour out love onto this mountaintop until it hurts, then we've wasted our time and money.
The Lord also made this verse come alive to me today:
"What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ -- the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith." ~Philippians 3:8-9

el diescisiete de julio, 2011
Now I am on the plane with very mixed emotions. I'm excited to go home but sad to leave.

Yesterday we went to the beach, and it was absolutely breathtaking. We went to see Pastor Pedro's orphanage, and it was amazing to see all the progress that has been made on it. I can't describe the feeling I had to be able to say, "I worked on this before there was even a complete foundation, and now it's almost done," and then to talk to Pastor Pedro about his hopes of children to start coming in in May. Yesterday was a great day.
Helen shared about a man who knows Christ but struggles with life-dominating sin. Before she even had time to make judgements, she said, he showed her his scarred, callused, and crusty knees injured from his constant kneeling on the dirty, rocky and unpaved ground to repent and cry out to Jesus for help. Last night, in honor of him, we all formed a circle kneeling on the clean tile floor of our dining room and thanked our Lord for a mere ten or fifteen minutes. After that, we all truly understood and appreciated this man's love and humility before God.
Holly shared about a little girl she developed a relationship  with throughout the week, who as most of the children, always wanted to be by her side. Whenever Holly would stray away subconsciously, she would shortly thereafter find this chica chasing behind her with a big smile on her face and a cheerful "Hola!" What a beautiful picture, Holly said, of her own relationship with her Savior.
Jesus Christ is the Master Teacher, and as such, He always asks me to evaluate what I've learned from Him at the end of these kinds of things. This week I don't think I've ever learned more.
I learned that sometimes silence is necessary to notice God, and if I don't put it on myself, He sure will.
I learned that if you go to an extremely impoverished country and decide you are going to have a "cookout," it is not a cookout by any stretch of the imagination. It is a madhouse (understatement), and that is exactly why Jesus told us in extreme detail how He went about feeding people. And that when you follow His example, it works.
I learned that people are great, but they will piss me off, even if they are Christian. But God never fails. And when people do, I need to suck it up and turn to Him.
I learned that while letting go of my eating disorder may be a "grieving process," it really need not be and it is dumb and much too slow-to-leave to waste my time grieving it when I could be enjoying my life hidden in Christ. And that the eating disorder is all loss anyway.
I learned that America will not be my home forever.
I learned that every day I wake up, I wake up to go on the mission field. No matter where I happen to be.
We are landing in Newark soon! I'll miss you DR, see you later!