The plans of the heart. . .

In our sight, our plans are good. At the moment, those plans include a trip to the Democratic Republic of Congo in August. The staff of 101 nationals who rank from sentinels (watchmen) at the houses, airport, radio station, dispensary, new hospital site, and Cell B (a small warehouse of supplies, including a container where diesel fuel and gasoline are stored) to cooks for the Bible institute dorm students, professors, radio journalists as they are called in Congo, pastors, students themselves at the Bible institute as well as the Women's Literacy Center, masons, carpenters, grass cutters, and more, are eagerly waiting for our promised (by faith) return.

Some in America may question our coming and going to Africa. Why don't we just stay out there? It's expensive to go back and forth. But the majority of people with whom we come in contact understand that the phrase "out of sight, out of mind" truly applies to our situation. There must be continual representation in the US to expose, fund raise, proclaim the great things God is doing there, and promote this multi-faceted work we call Laban Ministries. If we were to go out and stay in the bush with no internet and the other disadvantages of long absences, soon the support level would drop. It takes eye balling people, personal communication, phone calls, special handwritten notes, banquets, smaller venue events, DVD and video exposure in homes, maintaining relationships with donors, and maintaining church contacts to keep the wheels of Laban turning. And, you know, we can do all that, but if God's blessing isn't on those efforts, it will go down in smoke. Ultimately it is all of Him.

So here's our dilemma. We long to go back. We need to go back. I can either become frustrated with the lack of funds to send us back or cease from fretting by nestling into the Lord Himself. If I truly believe that "the plans of the heart belong to man, but the answer of the tongue is from the Lord", (Prov 16:1) and follow the 3rd verse of that same chapter, "Commit your work to the Lord, and your plans will be established," then I will choose to surrender to the paradox of having a good plan which needs to be relinquished to Him and rest in His better plan, which could mean. . . not now.

Actually, it goes beyond submitting, surrendering, and resting. It goes as far as death. I must die to myself and my good plan. Life in general and ministry in particular calls us to relinquish and die to our own will everyday of our lives-- letting go, letting be, and allowing God to actually be God, though we may think we clearly see a better way. How ludicrous! How arrogant! How insulting to the Lord of the universe to throw an emotional tantrum because He is seemingly bypassing our desire to fulfill His will? Sounds insane, doesn't it. But isn't that what we often do? Do we not come up with a "noble" plan and then not just ask Him but expect Him to bless it, and when we run into road blocks that clearly signal it isn't His plan, I at least fret and stress about it.

Wrestling in prayer about the next trip will continue. That's a good thing. The Lord loves that, but my inner being, my soul, my deep seated emotions and responses must be constantly lifted to Him for the soothing that only He can give, so that He will be praised instead of questioned and disrespected. I will choose to remember I am as safe in the stops He orders as well as in the starts, despite the fact that once we announce our month of departure to donors, they tend to want to hold us to it. After all, they live vicariously through the excitement of returning to a land full of adventure, great stories, tons of people asking for salvation, and a work flourishing in the bush of Africa!

Lord, you owe me nothing. You are not obligated. You are Your Majesty, the Lord Jesus Christ. I will choose to remember today your deliverance and provision in the past time after time, and I will trust you for the same in the future.