From LAX to TLV (and a precious scene).

Once again, I am thousands of feet in the air. I am flying to New Jersey, and after our next destination, we will be in Tel Aviv, Israel.
It is an odd sensation- leaving;
And this time, with Matt sitting on my right.
Anticipating the semester.
Knowing that new friends, experiences, and lessons await me.
Await us.

I do not know what so often inhibits me from writing, but as mucha s I want all things documented, the fear of the pen running out, or my thoughts not concise, or the failure to properly reflect myself- they overwhelm me.
Too often,
I submit myself to my fears.
That isn’t the kind of person I want to be,
That isn’t the ideal version,
Or the characteristic of a radical Christian.
So why do I do it?

As I travel thousands of miles, past clouds and over continents, I pray to commit myself and be enslaved to God alone.
My friend, Matthew Thornton, told me that “We [Christians] suffer well because of the gospel.”
A beautiful truth.
My love, Matthew Farnum, has expressed his observations of pattens and God’s remarkable consistency with me lately. Exposing my genuine yet frantic way of dealing with suffering.
Perhaps it is because those subconcious fears become a reality- whether in lesson or theory.
Perhaps it is due to my wrong theological perspective, and I must remember that both good and bad circumstances are from God, the Author of every story.
But whether it was a small circumstance, like a balloon I was blowing literally popping in my face, or something far more drastic, I must recognize His sovereignty.

Just as He is sovereign in Aunti Mimi and Uncle Rod not only being overly generous with items to sell,
But also blessing us with money for Jerusalem,
And our radical profits made from our first garage sale,
And having money to tithe to the Lord,
And me having a last babysitting job to earn last minute cash,
A wonderful dinner with the Farnum’s and my family at Victoria gardens,
Communion and pancakes with Matt’s family on Sunday,
A beautiful weekend with Emily in San Digeo,
Sparkling moscato, beach, extraordinary desserts, olive cafe,
And true, edifying conversation,
Kayaking with Childhood friends,
Tears of joy looking at Emily’s gift to me,
And Auntie Jo’s card:
All blessings.
Pure.
God given.
To support us.
Jehovah- Jirah.

And the greatest thus far,
Was spending my last night with my lovely grandma is a hospital bed.
Despite the stress,
And the worry,
It touches my frail heart to take care of her.
I know God saw my heart,
As I asked her if she loves Jesus,
To which she said ‘of course!’
And I asked her if Jesus was God,
And she said yes;
That though she doesn’t go to a Bible study, she is a Christian.
I told her that I want to see her in heaven, and she told me that when she dies, she will see me there.

Oh, how the tears rushed.
I held her close.
Falling asleep with our hands clasped,
Sharing a hospital twin sized bed.
Knowing that God would, one day,
Hold both of us in His arms.
Having confidence that, one day,
She will not have cords attached to her body,
Or a crooked spine,
Or a thousand pills to ingest daily,
Or pain-
But perfection.
I read Philippians to her yesterday,
And I see the trade clearly-
To die is to gain Christ!
A truth that removes all fears.

And this morning,
I asked her to pray with me,
And hse said she doesn’t know how.
I had Frank Sinatra playing in the background,
And she sat and sang along, full of hidden sadness.
“Teach me,” she said.
And so I did.
“Dear God,”
“Dear God,” she repeated.
“say whatever you want, and then in Jesus’ Name, amen.”
As she stroked my face, she said,
“Please do not let the plane crash, and keep Kristin alive so she can make me happy.”

I gave her fifty kisses,
And she gave me fifty one.
“Okay, goodbye, go now.”
And with that, she closed the curtain to divide us.

And to the airport I went.

I have no assurance that she will be there when I am home.
But even so,
It is well with my soul.
-Kristin