Comfort Zone

Comfort Zone

Strange - that's how I felt at the airport before we boarded the plane in the wee hours of the morning - 2:00 am to be precise. Perhaps it was the early wake up... wearing sandals in MN while there's still snow on the ground... the 43 pieces of luggage our group of 16 had... the chaos of travel logistics...? Was it because our main leader, Becky, sounds like one dear friend and looks a lot like another?  Or did I feel strange for the simple and obvious reason that I was embarking on a journey WAY out of my comfort zone?  Not my physical comfort zone - although that is surely an aspect.  I'm talking about the comfort zone of my heart.

It was a bumpy and fun ride in the top-top (think small bus with a cage all around) from the Port-Au-Prince airport to our guest-house.  We unloaded the top-top and then took a walk (escorted by our guards) around the block. Seconds out on the street this sweet boy walked up to me and put his arm around me. His name is Dickenson, he's 15 and wants to be an engineer.  I guess he is one of the kids in the neighborhood and he knew some in our group from other trips. He told me about school, his favorite subjects, and showed me his composition book.  His handwriting is beautiful.  We walked around the block the entire time with our arms around each other.  It seemed the most natural thing for him as we just talked and laughed. He helped me learn some Creole, too.  This was WAY out of my comfort zone.

Immediately after our short walk, we came in and prayed before dinner.  Part way through the meal we were joined by a Haitian, Fam Fam, who once had asked God to either take him or deliver him.   Today, he is married, a father to be, studying to become a pastor, and coming to the U.S. soon to complete his training and education.  Most importantly, he is full of Love and Light.  As 19 or so of us were gathered around the long table finishing our meal, he began to lead us in worship.  No music, just the voices of 19 singing praises to God.  I'm not a good singer, just ask those who know me and rightly razz me about it - and I am self conscience about it.  There was no way I could 'hide' my singing in such a setting.  But I was not singing to them.  I felt an overwhelming comfort and peace consume me as we sang our hearts out.

It was then that I realized I WAS in my comfort zone.  That comfort zone is not dependent upon my physical location nor my circumstances.  God is my Comfort Zone - and He is everywhere.

"We shall need the hands of Christ to touch these bodies wounded by pain and suffering.  Intense love does not measure - it just gives."   -Mother Teresa

Carrie