I heard a story about a tourist who visited Florence and saw all the magnificent tapestry art. (I'm pretty sure this was from K-Love radio station... S/O to Scott and Kelly in the morning!) He said that he stood in awe as he imbibed the beauty of the picture formed by the woven threads. However, when he saw the back of it, it was a tangled mess. Knots mangled with stray threads that formed a chaotic mesh, nothing like the art on the front of it. He said that he realized that's what life is a lot like. We're only on the mangled tangle-y side. We're completely blind to what it's actually making on the other side of the tapestry. It's a very "All things come together for the good of those who love HIM" mindset, which I've clung to in every season in life. And after many seasons of prayer, I think I've finally caught a glimpse of the front of the tapestry.
As a senior, I've always had this tinge of wishing I was like the person who could always see the front of the tapestry. The type of person who has always known what college they want to go to, what to major in, and then outlined their life in a 20 year plan. The people who have every thread of their tapestry picked out.
But praise God that I didn't pick my threads. Or else, who knows, I might have woven some messed up self-portrait that looked more like a cow than a human being.
He picked them for me. And these were a few unexpected colors and textures that He gave me to make a tapestry that I pray glorifies Him:
- Someone didn't show up to church.
- Once a week, I left the house before seven.
- I was assigned a 10-15 page paper.
- I didn't get to buy a homecoming dress.
- My English teacher was merciful.
1. Someone didn't show up to church.
I never realized that having spit all over you could be worth it.
You're only allowed to work in the church nursery when you're 18, which never would have bothered me. At age 15, I still wasn't allowed to hold a baby because my parents didn't think I was strong enough. Did that disappoint me? Not really. Babies kind of looked like small aliens that cried and smelled weird to me.
But one Sunday, someone didn't show up to church, and I guess you could say that changed it all. My sister asked me to fill in, and after two weeks of babysitting, holding, feeding, and diaper-changing, I decided that I should become a full-time volunteer. Thus, I was in the nursery industry. I'm still not 18, so I would have never been allowed to hold a baby unless it weren't for that one person who decided not to show up. Not a big deal right? That's what I thought too.
2. Once a week, I left the house before seven.
For some of you, this really isn't a big deal, but for a girl who barely wakes up at 7:30 a.m. (i.e. me), it's quite a challenge. But when your teachers tell you about how Lubbock performs abortions every Thursday morning, there's not much you can do but get up, stand outside, and pray. (Update: we actually can't perform abortions in Lubbock because we have to fly a doctor in. Praise God!!!)
I did this on-and-off since seventh grade (because I couldn't really drive or I'd just inexcusably forget), but since then, God has been breaking my heart for this issue (that tends to happen when you pray). Ever since, I've had it in the back of my mind that I wanted to do something, ANYTHING, to stop abortions.
I was picturing picket fences and protests and fundraisers, but I think God has something way different in mind.
3. I was assigned a 15 page paper.
At my school, we have this infamous English project that requires interviews, experience, and a ridiculous amount of research. They called it the "Isearch", but "Icry" or "Igiveup" would have been much more appropriate titles. My teacher said that we could do it on any topic we're interested in. Naturally, I said I wanted to be a doctor, but let's get something straight: I wasn't actually interested in medicine. In fact, I hate needles. You could splatter and swish blood around in surgery and it wouldn't bother me in the slightest, but if you eject that same blood through a pin-sized needle, I might start to cry. Anyways, I was forced to do my paper on a bioethics topic instead of something that didn't put me to sleep. Thus, I wrote my paper on... wait for it... babies! I spent hours at interviews with gene experts and nursery experts, and I even signed up to watch a live birth. And the weirdest thing is that I think I actually enjoyed it.
4. I didn't get to buy a homecoming dress.
I'm the youngest of three girls, so that typically means that I get a beautiful array of hand-me-downs. I truly have no need for shopping. But junior year came along, and I decided that it was time for me to be like the other girls and go shopping for my own dress with family. I was actually looking forward to it and had some tutoring money ready to be spent on something navy or red. But here's the twist: during my only free weekend, my family was busy. My parents left town, and my brother and sister were at an in-town college retreat called "Salt-Shaker." (My brother was the intern at the Wesley Foundation, which hosted this retreat). They told me to come on over, so that they could take care of me and I wouldn't be in my house all alone. I'm not gonna lie, I was so tempted to throw an old-fashioned four-year-old breakdown when I got there because 1.) I was in a VERY introverted mood 2.) I didn't want to sleep on the gym floor 3.) and I didn't get to buy my homecoming dress. But then I held myself together solely because there were older college kids surrounding me. Pathetic, I know.
What my siblings failed to tell me was the "Salt-Shaker Retreat" was code for "Night That Everyone Shares Testimonies." At the end of the weekend, I was completely blessed by hearing the stories of these college kids. I had to leave early, and I'd made up my mind to dismiss myself quietly. But then it happened. By "it", I mean the way your heart starts pounding when the Holy Spirit prompts you to do something. I tried to quiet the conviction, mainly because older people intimidate me, and I wanted as little attention drawn to me as possible. But, like God usually does, He won out, and I stood up and related my high school life and the way God completely wrecked me in the best kind of way. I left with a sense of freedom and peace, knowing that God might have used that testimony to touch someone's life. Little did I know that his prompting led to much more than that.
Fast forward a few months.
The Wesley Foundation is leaving for Haiti, and a team member gets sick. With a spot open and about two weeks to fill it, the leaders were searching for someone to come along. Ideally, it should have been someone college-aged and on-fire for God, not a sixteen year old high school student at a Christian school. But God had something different in mind. My brother said that since I shared my testimony at Salt-Shaker Retreat, the director decided that I was "spiritually-ready" and extended an invitation for me to come along.
One of the LC's (life-changers) I experiences in Haiti was the problem of sex-trafficking. The girls we hosted the youth conference for were familiar with this abuse. One nine year old girl had even been prostituted for $1.50 a night. Needless to say, I left not only with a changed perspective but with an indignant desire to help these ravished victims. I decided that from then on, my life would not be about securing my future. It would be about securing theirs.
Exactly how I would do that was a complete mystery to me.
5. My English teacher was merciful to me.
That 15 page paper I mentioned earlier has come back to haunt me. Instead of writing about babies, my teacher thought that the daunting topic of Bioethics seemed much more appropriate. So, that's where DC English is right now: stuck writing 15 pages over something very few are interested in. I asked my teacher if I could write it over human sex trafficking. In my mind, I pictured her laughing and telling me it was a stupid question, but I figured it couldn't hurt to ask. So I sent her a text that night, and, to my surprise, she answered: Sounds great. You already have some interest in that.
Thus, at my English teacher's mercy, I began reading through over a hundred pages of human trafficking and health care.
That was when my epiphany occured.
Woven
Now all these "threads" hung in my life, miscellaneous and somewhat useless, until I found myself multitasking one night. I was reading through my sex-trafficking sources as my mother was discussing my college plans with me. (<-- if you're a senior, then you must empathize with the fact that this conversation happens much too often.) I was telling her how I wanted to do something to help the girls in sex-trafficking, but I couldn't quite find a middle ground between counseling and medical relief. Frustrated, I glanced down at the next sentence:
"The state is required to provide healthcare for all babies born through the sex-trafficking industry."
I don't know what went off in my mind, maybe it was just a light bulb or a couple of fireworks. In that moment, I knew exactly what I want to do. I want to be an OB GYN doctor. This job includes prenatal counseling, which ties into the stopping abortion and trauma counseling dream I've always had. It involves babies, which I now love. It involves blood, but not the kind that come in needles. It involves women, instead of men (which I always had some weird phobia of operating on). Most of all, it gave me peace. This is a profession that fit everything I feel I was trained for, interested in, and passionate of.
Thus, I'm on my way to be a midwife. That night, I watched birthing videos and read job descriptions until one a. m. It's incredible to watch God get your little dream and turn it into something daunting but beautiful. I find that He's been growing this passion in me from the start. When my life was messy and frustrating, I had only yet to see the tapestry He was weaving on the front. Just a glimpse of that tapestry is enough to keep me going because I know the more I trust him, the more that tapestry will look more and more like Christ.
And what other picture would I ever want to weave?
