How?

Oftentimes Andrea and I look at each other and say, "How did we get here?" or "Wow. We live in Guatemala."  These expressions sometimes come at happy moments when we can't believe how God has blessed us.  Other times they're when things are hard and the U.S. seems like a nice comfy bed that you'd want to crawl into and never leave.

I am pondering this question now as I get ready to go to Nepal, a country I did not known much about until this trip came up.

Spoiler Alert: I'm going to talk about personal and emotional things.

Five years ago my Mother passed away from ovarian cancer after three years of believing for healing. 

Now, if you read our blog a lot you know I reference this event frequently. This is the post where I'll tell you why.

I believe her death was one of the most pivotal moments in my life.  Everything since then seems real. Everything before then seems like a dream.  The three middle years seem like a mix of dreams and nightmares.

When I was 32 my Mom passed away at the age of 63.  The lingering thought for me for the next several days was, 'If I live as long as my Mom, my life is half over.'  This led to other questions. 'What have I done with my life?'  'Is this all there is - an average life of working and going to church, which we have fallen nicely into?'  'Is there a God?' (Unfortunately with pain always comes this question) 'If my life is half over, have I done all I want to do?'

When you realize you don't have much time left, these questions make a big impact.  So, Andrea and I made a decision to make more of our lives. (Thankfully, I had an experience with Christ that took care of the God question.)

Nothing really changed much for a while.  In fact, things got worse for a while when depression and sickness sat on our family for a season. 

After much prayer and some tears, we left the church I had grown up in and Andrea had joined, not because of anything they did, but because after my experience with Christ, my mission and their mission no longer lined up.

I believe this one step - to follow God, even when it meant leaving what had been more than a church, but a family - showed the Lord our hearts were set to follow him, no matter the cost.  From this one step, we now find ourselves living in Guatemala.

The thing is, though, the more we follow the Lord, the more addicting it gets. At first, it was enough to find another church.  Then we started to pray for people at work and on the street. Then we started feeding the homeless.  Then we moved to Guatemala.  We keep pushing the line and deepening our desires to serve.  Life now feels empty when we are not putting Him in everything we are doing, and the passion only seems to be growing.

If I live as long as my Mom did, I have 26 years left, which is a blink of an eye. (Though I don't believe I'm going to die that young, it is always something in the back of my mind.) I will pursue the Kingdom of God as hard as I can until it is time to go home to be with my Mom again.

Some may think this blog posts sounds sad, but it is not.  This is my motivation. This is the thing that reminds me that time is short on this earth, but Heaven is eternal.  This is the thing that pushes me out of lukewarmness.  This is the thing that motivates me to get on a plane for a fifteen hour flight (I'm not a big fan of flying), to go to a country to help people I do not know, and to learn what I can to help people here in Guatemala.

And, when I get to Heaven, I know there will be two people to greet me - Jesus, who will say, "Well done good and faithful servant," and my Mom, who will say, "You did good".

P.S. My Mom may also say, "Go Hawks." Only time will tell.