La Hermosa Aventura / The Beautiful Adventure

I woke up on Sunday morning ready for mi gran aventura, a visit to a Spanish-speaking church on the other side of town. Though I felt a bit nervous about meeting so many strangers, I was mainly excited. Regarding myself in the bathroom mirror, though, I sighed heavily over the black eye I had given myself on Christmas Eve.

What would people think? If they had my vivid imagination, they might think that I was dragging myself to church after being battered in a domestic dispute. I'm not sure why I felt so embarrassed over that hypothetical assumption; if I ever met someone who'd gone through that, my reaction would be compassion and not judgment.

I've had to explain the eye a lot of times in the last two weeks, but that's because I've been around people who know me well enough to ask, and well enough to believe my bizarre, but true explanation: For some inexplicable reason, I shut my head in my car's passenger door. Once I had stopped seeing stars, I tried to piece together how it happened, but I couldn't make sense of it. Here's what I do know.

After parking my car in the garage, I went back outside and pulled in my empty trash bins. Then, in the dim light of the one remaining functional fluorescent bulb, I quickly opened the door to retrieve some books I'd left in the passenger seat. Backing away from the car with my precarious armload, I awkwardly slammed the door with my right hand, and the metal corner connected solidly with my left temple.

After dropping the books, I clung to the passenger seat's plastic seat belt loop with one hand and covered my eye with the other one. "Oohhh.... Nnnnnh," I moaned as tears gathered in both eyes. "Ow ow ow!" I whined.

When I finally walked inside, I was surprised to find blood on my hand. Would I need stitches? I peered into the mirror in my dining area. No, the only mark was a small, raised lump that was oozing blood. I quickly made an ice pack and pressed it gingerly against my throbbing temple. Good thing I missed my eye, I thought. That could have given me a nasty shiner!

Why Would I Want to Be Normal?

I've been living out a crazy adventure the last few days that I never could have predicted. It started on Saturday morning, when I was watching a playlist that God had queued up for me on YouTube. For the last several Saturdays, I've been multitasking by listening to various preachers to redeem the time spent on dishes and laundry.

The first video was a teaching from one of my favorite Bible study teachers, Priscilla Shirer. As always, God had arranged just the messages I needed to hear, rather like an extension of our earlier conversation in my prayer closet. Through the familiar story of Jesus feeding the 5000, Priscilla taught these truths:

• When Jesus told his exhausted disciples to come away with him, they didn't just go on vacation. On their quiet getaway with their teacher, they encountered a multitude waiting for them. So they continued to work alongside Him, and that shared ministry is where they found their rest.
  
  This echoed what God has been telling me about how I can find rest in the middle of all the stresses of my very demanding teaching job. Though I don't always have time for physical repose, I can always come to Him with my heavy burdens and find rest for my soul  (Matthew 11:28).
• When the disciples saw the hunger of the multitude, they asked Jesus to send them away so that they could find something to eat. Instead, Jesus told them, "They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat."
  
  Priscilla invited me to think about the multitude around me, the ones who make me feel overwhelmed with their impossible needs. Of course, I thought of my 97 students. She suggested that though I may be tempted to ask God to take away my personal multitude, God has sent me into this impossible situation because I am His plan for them, and His provision and glory will be revealed through me.
  
  The disciples' response was remarkably similar to my own: "We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish." How could they feed such a crowd with those meager resources? And how can I even begin to address all the spiritual and physical needs represented in my classroom... when I feel so inadequate?
• Priscilla's next point addressed that concern. In Jesus's hands, the impossibly tiny supply was more than enough to meet the needs. Not only did they feed the 5000 men, along with their women and children, but they even took home 12 baskets full--one basket per disciple! 

To sum it up, Priscilla said that Jesus's plan for the disciples, and for us is:

1. He called them to a purpose only they could fulfill.
2. He gave them power and authority to accomplish what they could not do through their own abilities.
3. He sent them out to do His work.

For me, the most moving part of the message was a story she shared about the sudden death of her cousin, at age 38. She said that we may think we have lots of time to fulfill God's calling, when actually we could have very little. Life is too short to waste time, she said. Whatever God has given us to do, we should feel an urgency to do it now, and even if fear tells us the job is too hard for us, we can't let that stop us. If we say yes to God's call, we can be certain that He will equip us.