Commissioned

Evolution. Progression.

Since our trip to Haiti, fear had settled in. In efforts to keep abreast on the latest news and goings-on in Haiti, we've became more acutely aware of the volatile and violent undercurrent of Haitian affairs. Poverty, hunger and lack of options breed unrest, and as a result, kidnappings, riots and violence arise out of news reports from the streets. We have had a LOT of reservations about a placement in the midst of such violence. We have been struggling with our sense of call and whether the safety concerns that exist in Haiti are worth the risk. Together we have spent hours in reflection, prayer, talking, journaling and endless researching. The need is still great. But fear snuck in. Why should I risk life and limb for a cause that is not my own? Or is it my own as I am born into the kingdom of God and am inherently responsible for all my sisters and brothers?

In all honestly, fear was taking over, consuming, choking. Fear was swallowing up our dream. Yet we had a meeting in Indianapolis we had committed to in order to finalize the application process. So we continued to fret and consider and hope.

Patrick and I got back yesterday from 4 full days of meetings and interviews with the board of Global Ministries in Indianapolis. We were brought there to interview in front of regional directors, to meet the 36 board members, to present our "spiritual journey and our call to mission," to visit with current and former missionaries as well as to become familiar with the issues and programs that Global Ministries is involved with. An interview. And not only were our skills up for review, but our philosophy and our life's purpose. A BIG interview.

The interview with the regional directors was intense and informative. We sat in front of 10 faces, all different shades of brown, persons from all over the world. Many of the directors were former missionaries with a lot of life experiences and passion for service. They asked us an assortment of questions, ones I've never been asked in an interview before. We dared to be honest. When it was our turn to question, we brought up our overwhelmingly most important question of the moment--that of safety. The board validated our concerns and seemed relieved that we were aware of the realities of such a commitment. They then proceeded to discuss the network of support we'd be surrounded by both from the Global Ministries board and from CONASPEH in Haiti. They talked about the policies in place for the "worst case scenario"--how they would take charge in all negotiations, how our family and friends were absolutely to be protected from getting involved. They reassured us that they have had only one missionary kidnapped (in the 70's) and he was quickly released unharmed, that they believe their placements are safe and well supported, and that it is in the partner's best interest to keep us safe. They talked about processes in place and required of us to better ensure our safety.

We had many conversations both with multiple missionaries who previously served in Haiti and in areas of extreme civil unrest. We visited with the president and well-respected community leader of CONASPEH who believes the news we receive State-side is quite slanted. It is his believe that we will be more safe than even he is in Haiti given our associations, our work to be done there and the safety network that will arise out of our community in support.

I felt like everyone was being realistic and understanding. I didn't feel like it was anyone's agenda to convince us to go regardless of the situation. People gave honest accounts of their experiences and of systems in place, and understood our reservations.

The meetings following were a mix of spiritual and political information and reflections. Conversations were inspired and interested. There was an overwhelming sense of purpose and calling exuded by all there to help meet head-on the injustices of the world. Lots of hugging and hand holding and praying and singing and sharing.

I have to admit, in the last few years I've actually evolved into a secular public being. Maybe it is due to my role as a physician, and my desire to be open and affirming to every patient I might encounter. I have continued to nurture a internal spiritual existence that fuels my life and work, but lately I've really been turned off by the "Christianity" sector and certain public displays of elitism and separation. All this despite the fact that my husband is so entrenched in the theology of the world. But my faith in the power of a religious community was resurrected as I found myself surrounded by a group of people that practice what I personally identify with in Jesus' message. Everyone at the conference was deeply committed to a political, radical faith that sweats against materialism, violence and empire when the world suffers so. The message of the week was of critical presence--bringing peace to points of deepest need. They talked of peace that can only happen through justice. I was inspired to find myself amidst such a community of people, and to feel their overwhelming support and excitement for our call and service, wherever that might take us.

The meetings felt like a slice of the UN--faces of every nationality and color. Everyone seemed politically and socially informed, or striving to be so. Knowledge of situations all over the world was nurtured, updates were given. People talked honestly and truthfully about the injustice in the world and our role in the web. Experiences and observations of the horrors that our world hides were shared. And when most would question how a God could exist in such a world of poverty and oppression, this community of people dared to hope that we would overcome with some faith and hard work and critical presence.

I was amazed. Inspired. And after 2 straight preceding weeks of tears and insecurity and overwhelming fear, I left Indianapolis feeling lighter. Clearly I am called to contribute my energy to the thread of hope in the world that we all cling to, to embrace hope for a better existence for all people. I have to trust this calling, trust that safety will wrap itself around us or that we'll have the courage to persevere through difficulty. To have the opportunity to heed such a call in a place of deep deep need, where basic interventions can change lives drastically is a gift. I left with a feeling of empowerment that I could somehow contribute to the universal energy that lifts people up out of their strife, whatever strife that might be. I left with a tired, but organized mind and a mental list of the projects to outline, people to network with, preparations to make. I left feeling peaceful... and happy... and ready.

Despite the depths of my anguish and fear, I have found my excitement above it all. Some came from the reassurance of the community of support that we have; some of it came from simply being asked to explain our interest and our calling. The reasons we were even considering Haiti had been obscured by fear, and with some relief of our worries, the excitement has once again surfaced. Patrick and I both really needed it.

The truth is Fear is exhausting. And much like its cousin Worry, living your life by it doesn't give way to dreams realized, goals reached, and life LIVED. Fear can make you smarter and more aware. But letting it empower instead of limit choices is the true challenge. I am thankful that God shakes us out of our fear at times, reminding us of our strength and of the community of love that surrounds us.

Thank you so much for all of your concern, for your ears, for your patience. I know there is a consortium of you who were hoping that we would decide quite the opposite, but yesterday we agreed and were commissioned to be placed in Haiti and serve as we are able. We made the decision with a lot of research, a lot of reflection, a lot of intentional discussion and with prayer. I can honestly say I'm really looking forward to what lies ahead. I hope that after we become established in our new living community and can send word back of our experiences, you too will be able to be excited.

Thank you for your love and support. Ambition is really just a leap. And it's scary. I can't even begin to describe my consuming fear at times. However, something deep inside tells me that on my way down, I'm going to build some wings and lean how to fly in ways I've never yet flown. And THAT, my family and friends, is worth the jump.