You Hold.

i'm currently sitting at my kitchen table in Oklahoma crying.
which, is not the best sign. honestly. i don't want to be an emotional wreck the next 48 hours!
i just watched this video one of my friends posted on Facebook and i started crying. CRYING!
i was a little tearful before watching the video, i'll be honest.

i bought an external hard drive last night to put all my pictures on from iPhoto. i have pictures on here that date back to 2005 and it takes up a lot of room on my MacBook. i decided it would be best to get all my pictures saved before heading back over to Benin tomorrow so my computer is working at optimal speed in a not so optimal setting. i was looking through some of the pictures as i transferred them over and a picture from Christmas 2008 jumped out at me. it's of my mom and dad with all 4 of their grandkids and it's precious. then i start thinking about how much each of the kids has changed in just 4 short years. and then i get sad that i won't be able to take a picture of them all together this Christmas.

 ((2008.))

that emotion quickly fled as other pictures came across my screen that brought up other memories. laughter. love. life.
and then i came across last Christmas' pictures.
my oh my. how much changes in 12 short months.

last december i had just finished graduate school. christmas was a whirlwind of parties, a graduation celebration, family Christmas, working at the Children's hospital, Candlelight Christmas Eve services, Christmas miracles (getting cancelled from work on Christmas eve!) and minimal sleep. i don't remember disliking any of it, i'm sure i enjoyed it all quite a bit. but all of that would leave me feeling very unfulfilled this year. because, a lot has changed in the past 12 months.

sure, i am sad about not being with my family for Christmas. but Christmas is crazy for the Gibson clan this year!! GG is in Germany with my uncle Raymond, aunt Bobbie and cousins (Julie, David and Carly). Claire is dancing on Saturday at the Texas state football championship game in Dallas at the Cowboy's stadium. people are coming and going. and i am getting on a plane tomorrow to go back to west Africa. a place that has my heart. my whole heart.

and this time last year, i couldn't have foreseen any of this. could not have even DREAMED any of this up, but it's happening. because when you surrender your life to what the Lord is calling you to...your life is no longer your own. so that's why i am not spending Christmas morning opening presents in my parent's living room and that's why i'm not going to a candlelight service at a wealthy church and singing Silent Night. i will be having my own version of "Silent Night" that won't be so silent because roosters wake up early and Beninese people are making all sorts of noise before sunrise, but i am ready to make some new Christmas memories. and i am thankful, that no matter if i'm in Broken Arrow, Germany or Benin, i serve a God who holds the whole universe and loves everyone on this earth.

((2012.))

Phil Phillips & Paw Paw

It doesn’t happen often. Especially anymore. What with me being here longer and being away from there longer…but today, it has happened twice. That very strange feeling when people around me are talking about something that has happened and I have absolutely no idea what they’re talking about. Or situations arise and I feel totally disconnected from moments loved ones experienced.

Today, I was sitting in the office and Hannah, Dr. Henley’s oldest daughter, was sitting at the other desk working on some things. She comes at least one morning each week, typically Tuesday, and will work on various projects. She usually sets up shop in my office at an empty desk that is in there for just that purpose. I leave my Pandora station on most days playing through my iPad. I’m not in the office much, especially since my days are getting busier seeing patients, but I am always sure to put on the Needtobreathe Pandora station on days Hannah is there. She has made mention that she loves that band and truth be told, I do too. Today, I was in there between patients working on some paperwork and this song came on. I listened to it for a minute or so and said… “Who is this? I really like this song!” She blurts out quickly, “Oh, that’s Phil Phillips. Remember? He won American Idol.” I start thinking to myself…Phil Phillips? I have never even heard that NAME. And I am certain I have never heard any songs by him. Or at least that I know of…I begin thinking I’m crazy, how can I possibly not remember that this guy was on American Idol. Then it hits me. “Was he the winner this spring?” She thinks, “Yeah, he was.” Well…there you have it. I have no idea what happened in America as a whole this spring, much less American Idol. We laughed about that. And she mentioned the fact that she thought that was kind of cool and I agreed. I have found it is nice to have no idea what’s going on in this culture…

((this is who I was listening to instead of Phil. my boys loving their Tata.))

Last Saturday night I was recovering from not feeling well and had not done much of anything all weekend. I looked awful and decided to go over to Blackie and Nancy’s to watch the OU / Kansas football game with them. Because, let’s be real, if your parents can’t love you when you’re sick and looking terrible, who can? It was nice to just relax and be with them, something I am learning to appreciate more and more. The game was a blowout, so after we ate dinner I started cleaning out a few of my mom’s cabinets. Now, without completing blasting Nancy to my blog readers I will simply say this…my mom (and dad) have a lot of stuff. A lot of things. But, my mom has made a conscious effort in recent months to decrease the things and stuff in their home. It’s admirable and I am willing to help out! (Heck, if Nancy cleans it now it’s less stuff Kim, Carma and I have to clean out when Nancy dies. Just being real. Thanks mom!) So in one of the drawers I was helping organize, we found a disposable camera. All the pictures had been taken. Zip. Zero left on the camera. My grandma, Myrna, mom and I laughed thinking about what could possibly be on this roll of film. Honestly, the possibilities were ENDLESS. I took the disposable camera to Walgreens tonight to get developed and just picked up the prints several minutes ago.

The prints were from a trip that my mom and grandma took down to Austin and from time they spent with my aunt and uncle. I’m honestly not sure when this was exactly. My youngest cousin, David, was in college at Texas A&M and there are many pictures from around campus of different family members with David. My aunt’s dad was also with them for this trip. He is known to his loving grandchildren (and numerous others) as Paw Paw. He was not my grandpa, I am blessed with two amazing grandfathers of my own, but he sure was a Paw Paw to me as well, even though we are family through marriage.

Paw Paw died from a sudden illness on March 21. I left for Benin on March 19. I remember the first phone call I had with my mom when I arrived in Benin. It was late, so so late in Sakete. I had just gotten to the guesthouse and Jon, Ashley and Katinka were helping to get me settled. I called my mom to let her know I’d arrived safely after being disconnected from the world for literally 48 hours. In those 48 hours, Paw Paw had become very ill and was on life-support when I spoke to my mom. I remember standing out in the dark courtyard, a place so foreign to me at the time, practically screaming on the phone to Nancy because I couldn’t hear her and I also couldn’t really make sense of it all. What? He had just relayed a sweet message to me last week about how proud of me he was and how excited he was for me and my upcoming adventure in Africa. What do you mean they don’t think he’s going to make it?

He is honestly one of the sweetest men I’ve ever met. It is a privilege to have known him. And I am a better person because of the legacy he left behind in his sweet daughter, my precious Aunt Bobbie. And tonight, that whole circumstance hit me like a ton of bricks in the Walgreens parking lot. Paw Paw is no longer here. These pictures, these now precious, precious pictures, provided a lesson for me tonight.

I am still not sure what my future relationship will look like with Arbre de Vie. I know for as long as I’m in the United States, I will talk about these kids and their parents and the people who work for them. I will advocate for them. Raise awareness. And raise money for them. But I feel the Lord is preparing me for a longer stint in Benin. In Sakete. With these children. With Jon and Ashley. I feel that is what the Lord is calling me to and I don’t have a timeframe or any idea what that will ultimately look like, but I am trusting the Lord every single day.

But then moments like tonight happen. And moments like today. I think about how much I will miss out on. I think about how much Jon and Ashley are missing out on by choosing to live in Benin, West Africa to be the parents to the children at the orphanage. And I think about the almost 3 months I spent there this spring. Sure, I may not know who won American Idol. And I may not be able to hug my sweet cousin’s necks when they are hurting because their Paw Paw died suddenly and they are grieving. But I have to come to the point in my life and in my walk with the Lord to decide that those things do not matter to me. And that may sound harsh. (Not the Phil Phillips part.) But it is reality. And it should be reality for all of us. Anyone who calls themselves a follower of Christ…

Luke 14:26, Jesus is speaking:

“If you want to be my disciple, you must hate everyone else by comparison -  your father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters – yes, even your own life. Otherwise, you cannot be my disciple. If you do not carry your own cross and follow me, you cannot be my disciple.” (NLT)

“Anyone who comes to me but refuses to let go of father, mother, spouse, children, brothers, sisters – yes, even one’s own self! – can’t be my disciple. Anyone who won’t shoulder his own cross and follow behind me can’t be my disciple.”

And I will admit, this is a struggle. I know it was a difficult decision and still is for Jon and Ashley as well. But they have chosen a life that is not easy, by any means. But it is the life God has called them to. And I am not sure what my future looks like, none of us are, but I am trying daily to surrender everything to Him. My friends. My family. My home. My car. My life. My insurance. My 401k. My future plans. It has to be His. Any other way of living is just not really living at all…

 

red special birthday plate.

today has been a difficult day. if i'm being quite honest with you all, it has been extremely difficult. for a variety of reasons and due to several very different factors; today has just been a hard, long day. and actually quite random.
i'm not entirely sure what started it all out.
maybe it's the fact that i am supposed to leave my house at 7:35 for work and i woke up at 7:22 this morning because the volume on my alarm had been turned all the way down. awesome.
maybe it's the fact that i felt all out of sorts from the beginning.
but today, wednesday, september 19th has been a very "out of sorts" day.

it happens every day. every hour of every day. my mind wanders to them.
what are they doing right now? what are they laughing at? what are they working on?
but today, today my mind wandered much more than normal.
to the point that i became quite tearful on several occasions while at work, which is highly unlike me. and honestly has never happened before.
but today, today they were all that my mind could think about.
why?
i have no idea.
but the literal ache in my heart was just too much.
the obvious distance between us was just too much.
the fact that i am here and not there was just too much.
and my heart was really, really sad.

next week is my 27th birthday.
i am not exactly sure looking back on my life what i thought turning 27 years old would look like.
but i am excited to be 27. i love my life. i love the people in my life. i love my life.
but i am not excited to be turning 27 in Tulsa, Oklahoma. if the truth be told.
i will do fun things and laugh with my sweet family and friends, sure. but none of those things are what my heart and soul are longing to do...so the thought of "celebrating" here kind of just makes me sad. and slightly nauseous.

i want to be sung to in French.
i want to dance around the gazebo to the beat of the drums.
i want to eat rice and fish off the red special birthday plate.
i want to get handwritten notes on white paper ripped out of a notebook.
i want to be there.

but tonight, i am not there. i am in Tulsa, Oklahoma. and i just got home from helping my 12-year-old nephew with his math homework. and although it wasn't exactly like helping 30 African children with their homework under the one light in the gazebo powered by the generator, it made my heart smile. so even if life doesn't look 100% what i want it to look like right now; i am thankful that God provides opportunities for my heart to smile even after days like today. because i may not be spending my 27th birthday in Benin with the children of Arbre de Vie, but i am confident i will spend at least one of my birthdays there. and even though next week i won't be able to eat my cake on the red special birthday plate, i will smile as i eat GG's homemade brownies and hum "Happy Birthday" to myself in French. because sometimes, even after long, hard days, we have to rely on even the littlest things in our lives to make our hearts smile.

rain.

This morning a loud clap of thunder woke me up. Boom. I laid in bed for a few minutes and quickly realized it was raining, a beautiful, quiet rain. It was 5 in the morning…way too early for me to get out of bed for work. I stayed in bed and my mind began to wander. It must have been the thunder and the rain, but my mind traveled back to West Africa, where it so often does…

I’m not sure if I blogged about this instance previously, but one of my last days in Benin a huge storm came through rather suddenly. It was lunchtime, so the kids were at the orphanage from school, and I was sitting up in the gazebo working on some things while everyone finished up lunch. Quite a few of the kids and Jon and Ashley were up at the new dorm looking at the latest progress and talking to the maisons. I looked up and thought, “Goodness. It sure is dark over there.” So I started packing up my computer and everything and sat down to finish eating with the kids. Literally within 2 minutes it began pouring and the wind picked up and produced wind gusts like I’ve never experienced before, ever. Seriously crazy winds! I had some kids huddled around me, shielding them from the rain as much as possible and the wind. I was soaking wet and the storm had just started. I looked up and everyone from the new dorm was running back down to where we were huddled. Jon and Mathias were up in the gazebo by all of us by that point. I saw Ashley running and the next thing I know, I look back over and Jon is gone and Ashley is pulling herself up from the mud and walking into the other gazebo. It all happened in an instant. A wind gust had pulled up one of the large metal colanders by the kitchen and it had blown and whacked Ashley smack dab in the face. I mean, that’s a mess in and of itself; but what stuck out to me most in that moment was Jon. How in the world had he gotten over there so fast? He must have literally leapt over the railing of the gazebo and was there instantly to help Ashley. All before I knew anything had even happened. In fact, none of us had realized what had occurred. But Jon did. And was right there to help her up. Ashley and I later came to the conclusion that he must have just “super-manned” over there. Crazy.

All of that got me thinking about all of this…

Living in a third-world country on the other side of the globe from anything and anyone you’ve ever known is quite daunting. I have talked to Ashley and Jon both about their decision to live in Benin on several occasions, and although I didn’t know them during that time, I know them now. And I know it’s not easy. Their life in Benin is unexplainable. And I remember as I was beginning to prepare to leave in May I kept thinking…”I do not know how they do this on their own.” I mean, I didn’t do too much while I was there, really. But I always was busy and always felt like I had something to offer and tried to help in anyway possible. But these two…these two do it day in and day out. It is their life. It is their story. And it is quite a story…

I don’t really know what I thought leading up to March of this year, but I do know I had no hesitation to being in West Africa for 2.5 months. I had never met Jon and Ashley. I had never met any of the kids. I didn’t even know how to properly pronounce the town I was going to be living in…but, I got on a plane. I landed on the other side of world some 30 hours later and became part of the crazy adventure that is Jon and Ashley Barchus’ life. Part of the crazy adventure that is Arbre de Vie. I instantly became part of their story.

They did not have to welcome me with open arms.

But they did.

They did not have to take extra time to get to know me.

But they did.

They did not have to ensure that I was taken care of.

But they did.

They did not have to giggle with me and become my friends.

But they did.

And okay, Ashley and I giggled…I won’t include Jon on the giggling factor because that will take away some man points, I’m sure.

They did not have to let me be part of their story.

But they did.

And thank God they did.

I got to spend some time with Ashley and her sweet family several weekends ago during her trip to the States. One night, I was helping Ashley work on some stuff for a sermon she was preparing and it was late. She was pounding some coffee and I was chugging some water, working away at our own desks in Curtis and Cindy’s basement and she looked over and laughed and said, “Tats, why do I feel like I’ve known you my whole life?” I didn’t really say anything at first. But I sat there and thought…”DANG! All of this has all happened within the past 5 months. 5 months ago I hadn’t even met any of them yet…”

I will never be able to adequately put into words what this past half-year of my life has meant to me. I don’t have words for all of it yet, and I am starting to realize more and more that is all okay. I don’t need words. I just need to follow my heart. And I need my actions to speak when my words fail me.

I may not have words. And I may never…

But I do know that I am forever grateful for these friends, who 6 months ago I may not have known but they still allowed me to jump right into this amazing story. And them sharing their story and lives with me has forever changed my story and my life. And for that, I will never be the same.

What will the next 6 months look like?

I have no idea.

What will the next 6 months of your life look like?

You have no idea.

But be open to an adventure.

Be willing to let people join your story.

You never know what they have to offer…

And you never know, they may just change your life.

i am here.

I feel like…

I need to preface this post by mentioning that it is after 1 in the morning here in Oklahoma. It is late. It has been a busy, long week filled with a variety of emotions. Several friends came over tonight and we had a delicious dinner and my house was filled with laughter and love. It was a great night and one of the first semi-large dinners I have had in my home since coming back from Benin. As my living room was filled with people and I was sitting at my kitchen table working on some t-shirt stuff for Arbre de Vie, I made a mental note that I need to do this more often. It was good for my heart.

I feel like…

This blog post has been a long time coming. Trust me, I have had plenty to say since returning to the States, but I have not taken the time to sit down and write it out. Work through it all, if you will. It seems easier to just get carried away in the business and craziness that is my life and not focus on the reality of things. But the reality sometimes comes crashing in at 1:15 in the morning when your house is suddenly quiet, doesn’t it?

I feel like…

If I close my eyes sometimes I will wake up and be there. Where my heart and soul long to be. Sleeping under a mosquito net with a fan blowing in my face. I can close my eyes right now in my air conditioned home in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma and literally see myself in that bed in Sakete, Benin. Over 6,000 miles away from where I am right now. I can feel the fan. Hear the buzzing of the one light in my room. See my water bottle on the bed frame. Hear the pages of my Bible and journal flipping over as the fan turns just right to catch the thin pages.

I feel like…

I should express how incredibly grateful I am to be here right now. Even though I don’t necessarily want to be, I am grateful to be here. In a country that is free. And fair. And not corrupt. In a town that is safe. And clean. And accessible. In a family that is loving. And kind. And honest. In friendships that are real. And uplifting. And genuine. In a career that is everything I hoped it would be. And more. And fulfilling. In an office with colleagues who are top-class. And compassionate. And some of the greatest people. In communication with people who choose to love these kids even though they’ve never met them. And give their time to hearing about these kid’s stories. And give their money to provide protection that is so desperately needed. I am grateful.

I feel like…

At the end of the day…when it’s quiet and I am still; it happens. I can literally feel the pain in my soul. An ache in my chest. Because, obviously, I am not in my bed in Sakete, Benin. Underneath the bright green mosquito net. Writing these words half a world away. I am here. And I am fine being here. It is fine. The being here is not the bad part. The NOT being there is the bad part. That is the part that is not okay with me. With my heart. With my soul. Because the sleeping under the bright green mosquito net with the fan blowing on me every night isn’t the good part. The waking up in the morning. Taking an ice cold shower. Doing my devotions in the big meeting room with the front doors open and the gate to the house open…people walking by, greeting them, shooing random chickens out of the courtyard. That’s not the best part. The best part…the best part is that first glimpse of one of the kids. The little boys stopping by my house on their way home from school. Just to say hi. Just to hug my neck. The pulling up the steep drive to the orphanage and being bombarded by children. Being greeted and greeting them back. Looking them in the eye; saying good morning; hugging them; seeing their smiles; feeling their arms around my legs and my waist and my arms and my neck. That is the best part. Being with them. Living life with them. Helping their Maman and Papa do anything that needs to be done. Making sure they are okay. I know they are okay. But seeing with my own eyes that they are okay. I can hear their smiles on their faces when I talk to them on the phone; but seeing the smiles on their faces is different. I need to see those smiles. I need to feel those hugs. I need to laugh with them. I need to live their day-to-day life with them.

But, right now, I am here.

And I feel like that is okay.

For today, August 4, 2012, that is okay.

It is what the Lord is asking of me right now.

And I only ever want to do what He asks of me.

So I am here.

And I will remain here until I can be back over there with them. And trust me, that day cannot come soon enough. But until that day, I will continue to be here. Be fully present in this life I am living. Because I love this life!! I will laugh. I will cry. I will let go of the things and the people and the situations that do not build me up. I will continue to embrace the things and the people and the situations that encourage me to love more and challenge me a  become a better person.

And I feel like…

All of this is okay. Because this really is only the beginning of an amazing story. An amazing life. And I am so excited to live it. Be excited to live your life too friends. Everything can change in an instant. Take every chance. Drop every fear. It is totally worth it.