The Plans I Have for You

“How long will you be working here at Cannon?” one of the used car sales managers asks me as we drive down to Magee to see if he can fix my car. “Until the middle of August, but after I leave I will be leaving the country for nine-months,” I reply. He looks at me as if I am crazy; I’m use to that look by now. I laugh a little at his puzzle face.  Since we are riding together in his truck the conversation can’t be left like this, so he continues asking me about what I’ll be doing. I tell him what my team and I will be doing. He seems horrified at what I’m saying. I try my best to not completely loose it.  I feel like laughing my head off. After a few moments he asks if I’ve ever been out of the country before, so I tell him I’ve been to Nicaragua and Uganda. I tell him how I loved both places and that the hardest part of both trips was coming back, and how one day I want to move overseas full time. I’m pretty sure I blow his mind when I say this. Just when I think the conversation has died off, he says, “After hearing you talk, it sounds like you don’t want to come back.” Before I can fully process what he has just asked, I hear the words, “No, I don’t want to,” spoken. It takes me a second to realize I just said them. I didn’t lie to him, I meant what I just said, but I was hoping to find a nicer way to share my views on this matter, but like so many times it doesn’t work.   

Around five that night I’m chatting to the service manager who, like many people, is waiting for the clock to hit 5:30 so she can leave. She tells me she heard I’ll be leaving the country soon. I tell her that I will be. She asks me about where I’ll be going and what I’ll be doing. I tell her and she seems to be genuinely interested in my trip. She is the one carrying the conversation.  She tells me she has always wanted to travel, but how having this job and kids has stopped her from doing so. She then asks if I have a boyfriend; I tell her, “No.” The next thing she says completely catches me off guard, “So, you have no real reason to come back.” It wasn’t really a question; it was more like a statement. Someone has finally voiced the one thing I was unable to for weeks now. I agree with her. After a few more minutes of chatting our conversation comes to a close.   

When my work day ends I’m relieved, I have a lot to process though, and I’m thankful that I’ll be going home to a quite and empty house.  Once I’m home and lying in my hammock I find the words to ask Him, “I’m not coming home, am I?” “No”, He replies.  His answer stings a little. I begin to think over the events in my life that have led to where I am now. I think about Nicaragua and Uganda and realized that on both trips I didn’t fully come back, I left part of my heart in each country.  I know Immersion will be no different. When the time comes to get on the plane that will bring me back to the States, I won’t be the person who I am now. Since Nicaragua I can’t look at the trash without thinking about the times my team and I helped feed people at the city dump in Granada. Since my return from Uganda I’m unable to look at a pair of shoes without thinking about the thousands of kids in Uganda who have never owned a single pair. God has already started wrecking my life. I can’t even imagine what nine-months will do. I know the emotional and spiritual toll will take a huge chunk of me leaving me forever changed. The person I am now will change, and a new person will replace me, a person that God is creating me to be.

As I’m stilling coming to grips about this, He brings up the topic of physically not coming back. I feel that same sting return. I know that I’ll return to the states with my team for debrief, but what about once debrief is over? What then? Will I come back to Mississippi for any length of time? If I do come back to Mississippi, will I call this house home, or will I be a visitor in my parent’s house? The big question mark that is my future seems bigger and heaver than ever. I feel my life slipping through my fingers into His open hands. I want to freeze time, even if it’s just for a moment, I want to know what to plan for, I want to know what my future will look like. Fear is trying to take over; I feel the sting that comes before the tears.  That’s when I hear Him say, “The plans I have for you.” You can almost hear the smile in His voice as He speaks. And just like that His words calm me. I feel Him wrapping His arms of peace around me. The fear that was creeping up and the sting have both ceased. I sit in His presence completely satisfied with His words.