What I know for sure.

“The size of your dreams must always exceed your current capacity to achieve them. If your dreams do not scare you, they are not big enough.” - Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, former President of Liberia

I’ve begun writing this while sitting in another airport, this one hot and humid and full of people dozing off while waiting on a 12:15am departure.  I’m reflecting on the week; a week of discovery, of new things, of excitement, of anxiety, of beautiful people, of new, tentative relationships, of putting one foot in front of the other and not letting fear be the boss of me.

I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to go, to see, to experience, to try and get a better idea of what I’ve gotten myself in to in this latest adventure. The objectives were simple; get to know my new bosses, meet the staff, check out apartments, get the lay of the land, and attempt to answer the big questions of why does this organization exist? And, why do I need to be a part of it?

And as I reflect on the week, I can say with confidence that this is the next right thing. My brain is a jumble of questions and excitement and nerves and planning, but here’s a few things I know for sure:

I’m really out of my comfort zone.  I’ve sort of become an expert in surgery and medical training programs in the last several years; I know the lingo, I speak confidently answering questions and can comfortably handle most any sticky situations that come up, whether it be among practitioners or politicians.  Then I found myself in a larger government committee meeting last week, just observing, trying to follow the heavily accented English using words and acronyms I’m unfamiliar with, and wondered, not for the first time, what have I gotten myself in to? I couldn’t tell you what was going on and I had even less ability to speak into the situation being discussed.  I felt helpless, trying to keep my head above water and failing miserably.  But, as I keep reminding myself, I felt that way in the beginning when it came to surgery, too.  I can’t expect to hit the ground running when I’m making a career change such as this and it’s silly to expect anything else.  My perfectionistic achiever tendencies demand I be impressive from day one, but the rational side reminds me that they knew I’m not an expert and hired me anyway.  I’ve got so much to learn and I’m excited to embark on the journey.

This is work that is really, really worth doing. It’s crazy that I, the one who doesn’t even really like kids all that much and who has no interest in having any, am going to go pour my life into the pursuit of justice, safety, and family for hundreds of kids who have been abandoned or abused or displaced or discarded. For many of them, the people of this organization are the only ones who are fighting for them, who care, who see them as valuable and treasured and worthy of love and belonging.  Everyone needs that. And there is no such thing as other people’s children.

It’s scary. I’d be a liar if I said I am not at all anxious about this whole new thing. The culture is different than what I’m used to, and the field of work is one that is inherently more dangerous than healthcare.  I get it and I feel it, but while fear gets to be in the room it has no place at the decision table.  Fear is not the boss of me, love is the boss of me.  Fear is what brings me to my knees on a daily basis, drawing strength from the One whose power is limitless and offered to all those who seek it.  And, as the first quote reminds me, if your dreams don’t scare you they aren’t big enough. 

It’s right. After my first day in country I knew I needed this to become more than a job I could do; I don’t just want to be doing this for a paycheck or an exotic job title, for there are much higher paying jobs I could get with more well-known global organizations.  I want to do this because it’s something I’m uniquely called to do, that feeds the fire within my veins to somehow make a difference, that the world would be a better place as a result. I want to be passionate and engaged and fully alive.  But this isn’t something you can just create or manufacture at will, it’s something that comes from bringing heaven to earth and transforming hearts and minds to reflect that of the Father. And I can confidently say, somehow, in ways passing all understanding, it has become so.  These kids are beautiful and precious and valuable and worth fighting for… here I am, send me.

Suffice it to say I’m feeling all the feels right now, as I face a week full of goodbyes and look forward to really exciting things ahead.  Thank you for joining me in the journey.  A few photos: