Questions.

Last night I went to bed with many questions swirling through my head. No, let's be honest. Many doubts swirling through my head.

Why am I doing this?

Will anybody even care to read this?

What makes this story book worthy? Do I even have a plot, or is this just a bunch of experiences thrown together in a way that will let people drop the book after a few chapters and say, "Well, that was nice while it lasted..."?

I could not come up with any answers so I went to bed, a little discouraged. And then I dreamt about Ebeye. But not the Ebeye I know... a people-less Ebeye. All of the buildings were there, I was walking down the street with Paulo and there were no lights on except at the grocery store, and I leaned over to him and said, "No power tonight." We tried to lay down to sleep in a dirty apartment and the Fear of the Cockroach overtook me. When I woke up in the middle of the night something hit me: Ebeye sucks. As a former World Missions Director at PUC told me before I went out was, "So basically you sat down with the globe and picked the worst possible place on the face of the Earth to go to."

Yep, basically that is what I did.

But that was not my experience. What made Ebeye, this incredibly aweful place on its own, so unbelievably wonderful to me? What made this, honestly, a sacred experience in my life?

There was only one difference between my dream and the reality was the people. They were why I went; they are my story.

This morning, as I was cooking banana pancakes and listening to Pandora, my Saturday morning ritual, as song came on that I have not heard for quite some time. But as the first chord struck I yelled out, "Babe, it's my song!" and ran over and turned up the volume as loud as it could go. This song is also one of questions, questions that Shawn Groves sings about his presence on the stage as a Christian singer, questions that I shared in the weeks before heading out to Ebeye. These questions really filled my heart going into that time and throughout. How great it is that God answers my questions at the right time, in the right way. And I learned that although the question is important, and the power lies in the answer.

Should I Tell Them

Walking with you is not without hazards
Trippings this traveler's curse
Price paid for falling is more than my stumble
In a world that is watching and waiting for words

But I listened when You said to go
And I set out in spite of my fears
About truth mixed with my imperfection
And the question of what to say when I got here

And now that I'm here
Should I tell them that
You are the one who has made me
And saved me and set up a home there inside
Should I tell them that I am a perfect example
Of all You can do with a life.
What should I say to them?
What if I'm failing them?
What should i tell the tonight?

Now don't get me wrong
I'm thankful to be here
With this song to sing and a spotlight on me,
But lately I'm wondering if you are mistaken,
If you're seeing all of me there is to see.

Cause on every face I detect
The same questions I've posed to you
Like do you speak through the imperfect
Are we too dirty for your light to get through?
I want your light to get through.

What should I tell them when
They're thirsty Lord
My cup is empty Lord
Come and lead me here in this place
Cuz I'm honest, yeah, but I'm unprepared
And I'm just plain afraid