Heartbroken

Sorry readers, the faithful few, haha. I haven't blogged for a couple-few days. Life has been crazy. WARNING: This could be a long read. I'll try to make it worth your while.

So last Thursday evening my parents called me and dropped a bomb. The Mexico Mission trip that I had been anticipating for so long, the trip that I am passionately collecting shoes for the people there, the trip I had my heart set on for months, the trip I was ready to enjoy myself on, the trip I was ready to spend some time with my favorite sister whom I miss terribly, the trip I was going to get tight with God and see all of his glory even through poverty, the trip that I was going to act as the hands, feet, and mouth of God, the trip I was going to get to practice my Spanish with the young kids during their VBS, the trip I was looking forward to catch up with friends from home, the trip I was going to be a part of something bigger than me... yeah, that trip... they didn't want me to go.

Since the drug and gang violence has been escalating in Mexico for quite some time now, my parents decided that it wasn't safe. Although I did some of my own research and found out that the problem wasn't really an issue in the area that I was headed to, I couldn't make myself go against my parents' wishes, even though many, many things were telling me to go.

Lets just say, Seth doesn't cry. Really, at all. And this night, he bawled like a baby.

I cried out to God in frustration, confusion, feelings of being overwhelmed,... so many emotions came billowing out through those tears. I was mad at my parents because they raised this issue a mere 2 weeks before the trip leaving me little to no time to make other plans. I was mad at those dang drug lords down in Mexico causing all of this stupid drama to take place. I was angry with the reporters that splattered the stories all over the news for my parents to hear. I was mad at everyone for telling me the obvious truth: that it really was dangerous. I was mad at myself for thinking that my plans could ever be set in stone when Jeremiah 29:11 obviously tells me otherwise (you would think that my tattoo would have reminded me of that, but it wasn't until after I saw it in the mirror that I thought of it.)

I was confused as to why God would let this happen when the trip was set aside to do his work. I was filled with rage against Satan, whom I felt was instilling fear and second-thoughts in the parents of Medicine Lodge about the trip. I was longing for my parents to think differently about the situation, like a couple of my other friends' parents who realized the impact that a trip like this could have. I envied my friends who were still going. I had so. many. emotions. at the same time. It was overwhelming.

There were so many things telling me to go. The funds for my trip came entirely from outside sources and from my home congregation. entirely. and they came in so quickly that I didn't even have to think about paying for any of the trip on my own. My friend Megan and I were set to collect shoes to give to the shoeless people in Mexico because something so little really would make their life better. My passion for this trip was unparalleled to the last two times I had been, and it was apparent.

After wrestling with God over the pros and cons of going...after arguing with my famliy about God's will for man and my role in the group going... and after kicking myself at the thought of missing the BEST fish tacos known to man, I decided not to go. I think now I know the true feeling of a broken heart... and lets just say... it sucks.

My role in this mission trip NOW is to pray constantly for those who are so blessed to go. To pray that they use their time wisely and make a positive impact for God and his followers. Oh, and I'm still taking shoes if you want to bring them by my room before Wednesday, that would be a giant blessing to me and the Mexican people. Thanks for letting me plug my own humanitarian effort. I sound like Bono. bahaha.

On a somewhat lighter and less bitter note, I wanna blog about what I got out of the Cornerstone last night.

Carrie was talking about what heaven would be like for each one of us, and that she believed there was a room made entirely of marble awaiting everyone in heaven. And in those marble rooms were picture frames. The frames were no ordinary frames, they were scattered about the room and hung everywhere. There was a picture of everyone you had ever made an impact on in your entire life, good or bad, hanging somewhere in the room.

And when you went and touched each individual picture, the picture would jump out of the frame and describe to you how you impacted their life.

And after she said that, I got to thinking...What will people say about me when I'm gone? Will they have more good than bad to say? Will they have any good to say? WHO all would be in my room? Who all have I impacted or made an impression on that lasts.. that sticks around.

So I guess the point of this last part is kind of just to reflect on my life. What I have done, who I have impacted, who has impacted me, and whether it was a good or bad influence I made. If you haven't ever considered that, I urge you to do just that. Its pretty crazy what God reveals to you when you do.

Well, thanks for listening to my never-ending rambling monolaug (spelling?). I'm sure it was the thrill of your life. haha. Until next time...