“there’s no end to the affections you have for me”
I was singing this song Monday morning, when the thought of my precious little (yet older) sister popped into my head. I have no idea why the thought of her came flooding to my mind, but it did. Maybe it has to do with the excitement and glee that has come around with conversations discussing how she comes home so soon. I was in South America when my sister left for a 6 month trip to Uganda, Thailand and India to do ministry to all different types of women, and I am like a giddy child on Christmas morning, waiting to unwrap the gift that is my long-lost sister.
Since December, my sister has been in India with very limited internet, so when the thought of her popped in my head during worship on Monday morning, I began to pray for her. Every so often, she will text me at any random hour of they day or night, usually saying, “MEGGY”, in hope that I check my phone to respond within the 5 minutes she has internet. So I pulled my phone out of my back pocket in the dark room, to just maybe see if she was around. I had a text from 10 minutes ago from her. So I texted the fastest message back, praying that she was still around with internet. She was.
I even got to FaceTime her, and it was just a wonderful moment. I was starting my first real week at Center for Global Action. I was around people who had seen my sister more recently than I had. And sometimes, they just came up to me randomly to give me a hug and say “this is from your sister.” At minimum, a handful of people have come up to me asking me if I was Liz’s sister, or wondering why I looked so familiar. They say we look alike, and I just smile and tell them that that’s a high compliment because I think she’s beautiful.
The worship song we sang says, “there’s no end to the affection you have for me.” I could feel my eyes watering. Because my sister is an example of the Lord’s affection for me. I was hit with how rarely I see my family as an example of God’s love and provision.
More times than not, I focus on what I don’t have, or what I feel was wrongly taken from me. That is, my sweet momma. Because sometimes the heartbreak of losing her, and not having her with me for the milestones in my life and even just not having her to give me tips on which lipstick to buy, stings deep enough to bring me to my wobbly knees.
Because of pain’s scarring touch on my life, it is really easy for me to have hands clenched tight toward heaven, afraid of what it might offer me. Pain and darkness can have that effect on someone. It can change your vision to where all you can see is loss and scarcity and lack, and can bring you to a place where you want to say, “No, God! I will not take what you offer. You’ve abandoned me and have created a mess.” Therefore, our once-opened-palms are clasped tight, holding heaven at a distance.
But in that moment, I was thankful for what I do have. My family could have gone either way, and I take no credit for how mine has gone. But I think it’s beautiful that the Lord has kept my sister and I so close to His heart. Our story didn’t have to go like this after such tragedy.
And like I said earlier, sometimes, I can get so focused on what He has taken away, that I completely miss what He has given.
It has been two years and two months and in all of that I’ve seen my sister for two weeks. I have a love-hate relationship with Adventures in Missions. I love them for what they do and how they’ve changed my family’s life, I just hate that they’re the reason my best friend and I haven’t been together. Hahah I’m totally kidding on that, but like maybe next time, we can go on a trip together, ya know? I can’t wait to have her little arms wrapped around my neck or to enjoy some quality donuts together. The heart of my heart, the only other one who carries my mother’s blood and pulse with me, is coming home.
