My hands were tight fists, my body stiff as a board, and I know my heart had to be bouncing out of its cavity. Would I know what to do when I went through immigration? Will they speak English? Will I know where to get my luggage, and will they have a cart for all six pieces? Questions and concerns filled my head until I wanted to scream. It was time to pray. I needed help. I reminded the Lord that He said He would take care of me, and I asked for forgiveness for my lack of trust. I blocked out the noise of the plane engine and passenger activity around me. I focused on Him. I could feel peace enter into my heart, just as I heard the rattle of the beverage cart.

“Would you like something to drink?” asked the flight attendant.

I unclenched my hands and ordered a diet Coke. My pulse slowed down, and I turned to the lady next to me. “Is this your first time to visit Guatemala? “ I inquired.

“No, I come frequently to do business in the Capital,” she answered.

I saw my opportunity. I told her my story, how I’d never been out of the US before, and asked if she would help me go through immigration and show me how to find the luggage. “Of course I can do that,” she responded. The positive response helped ease my empty stomach when the diet Coke hit it. The Lord sent me help. Thank you Lord for your faithfulness and for this sweet lady. However, the peace only lasted for a few hours, while we were in the air.

These many certain experiences continually build trust in me. I am still learning that the Lord will always be there with guidance and help. Trust doesn’t come easy for many of us. These testimonies of seeing the hand of the Lord working in people’s lives bring light into the dark places.

The next post will tell of some more trust-learning experiences. I want to hear about those times with you. Please share some of your testimonies. It’s fun to compare notes.

My life progressed in a good direction. I felt in-sync being an elementary teacher in eastern Montana, and especially as I worked with kids who hated to read.  I felt comfortable with church involvement, at school, and in a family oriented community. However, there was a stirring in the atmosphere, and I knew it meant changes were coming. That is to be expected if one says to the Lord, “I’ll go where you want me to and do what you want me to do.” I don’t know how many other millions of people have said that prayer, but I’ll tell you what, the Lord hears it and He responds.

There are times when the Lord shows me a piece of the future in a dream. I remember two years before this that Dad and I went shopping and entered a greeting card store. “Oh my goodness! That’s the mountain in my dream,” I exclaimed. Dad patiently waited for me to explain myself.

“I dreamed I looked out a picture window at a looming mountain covered with rocks and dirt just a short distance from the house.  It was raining in hurricane torrents. Through sheets of downpour, I could see water squirting out of the cracks and crevices, which formed mini-cascades all over the slopes. Particles of rocks rolled to the bottom, building a pile of stones. I looked at the rubble below and said that I was going gold hunting, and I knew where to find the good stuff. In the dream, I knew the gold represented something precious. Then, I saw a huge hole in the mountain revealing a beautiful green valley. It looked like paradise.”

Dad bought me the card that day. I framed it, and it hangs in my home as a reminder of a God who leads me according to His plans for me.

One Sunday, a couple shared their perspective of the mission field. The husband told how he ate grubs so he could be accepted by this tribe. I smugly thought, Lord I’m sure glad you didn’t call me to be a missionary. Smack! Immediately, I remembered my words of being willing to go anywhere and do anything. Oh boy! I did it this time. After the service, just to make up for the contrary thoughts, I asked the couple if there was a need for teachers on the mission field. I can still hear their laughter as they announced that this was the number-one need. The seed was planted.

I couldn’t shake off the idea of teaching on a mission field, so I took the next step and talked to the pastor and his wife. Then, I contacted a missionary friend, who was in Africa. Armed with council and advice, I fasted and prayed to see what the Lord was saying to me. I thought of the mountain dream and my desire to minister to hurting children. I counseled with young teens in my community and saw into their scared hearts. I heard the need for someone to listen and encourage them. The seed germinated.

The whole process of events was like trying to find that proverbial light switch in a pitch-black room. Doubts would come and go, but I stood firm on the idea that I wanted to be involved in the lives of needy children. The door opened for me to teach missionary children at a school in San Cristobal, a suburb of Guatemala City, Guatemala.

I faced a test in trust. Would God meet my needs if I gave up the security that was already mine? At fifty-two, would I be able to learn a new language? Hundreds of questions filled my thoughts as I looked at pictures on my walls and saw faces of loved ones that I would be leaving behind. Granny’s trunk sat in the crowded living room. She used that trunk when she moved from Kentucky to Montana as a girl; a treasure to me that held memories. Could I give up my treasures if I committed my life to being a missionary? The process went on until I answered God’s call: Yes, Lord, I will go.

All four of my children had left the nest, and that made it easier to pull up stakes and leave a satisfied life behind. This single missionary found herself in Guatemala one year later. The seed turned into a flowering plant.

Have you faced a step-off-the-plank-into-the-broiling-water event? Or are you looking at one today wondering what to do? I’d love to hear about your experience and how you dealt with it. Sharing our thoughts can be an encouragement for whatever we are going through. Drop me a note in the comment box, and I will respond.