A Season of Growth...

  I recently started reading the book Growing Strong in the Seasons of Life by Charles Swindol. Someone had left the book in the team room this past year, and the book sat on my shelf for a long time. I honestly wasn’t interested in reading it because the cover art made me think it was a romance novel (it’s actually a weekly devotional book that reflects on the seasons of the year)!! Ha ha ha… Funny how God has a way of depositing things in our lives that will be useful at later times!!  I begrudgingly picked it up earlier this week (at the Holy Spirit’s prompting) and I began to read.

  "Is it winter right now in the season of your life? Are you feeling depressed… alone… overlooked… spiritually on “hold”… cold… barren? Beginning to wonder if your soul will ever thaw? Entertaining doubts that behind those thick, gray clouds there exists a personal, caring God?... When this winter season ends, you’ll be wiser, deeper, stronger. Therefore, in reverence, look up. Be still and discover anew that He is God. That He is doing “whatever He pleases” in your life"(Swindol, 1983, p. 24).

  As I read the words above, I was taken aback by every sentiment the author expressed. It’s like Charles Swindol had climbed inside my mind and my soul and was recounting how I had often felt in the past few months. As many of you know, the past few months have been… rough… and by

An Aerial View of the School (On the Right)

rough… I mean REALLY ROUGH…  Following the death of a friend and fellow missionary in mid-March, I was struck with an illness at the end of April that led me to the hospital for medical attention after I passed out not once but twice in the village, I continued to have residual symptoms and pain for the next three weeks and struggled with fear and anxiety over whether I should return to the doctor or if I should trust that God was healing me, I have been attacked by fear and nightmares in the night and had more than one night of sleep stolen by this fear, I have struggled with feelings of loneliness and isolation as I am the ONLY ENGLISH SPEAKING AND NON-GUATEMALAN PERSON in the village, and I have struggled with feelings of guilt over not returning to the States to help my family accommodate my mother as she transitioned from working full-time to a well-deserved and needed season of retirement.  There have been times that I have thought to myself… Where is God? Why is this happening? Why am I getting hit so hard right now? Why?!!!

However, looking back I CAN see my growth. I can see that through the winter season I have grown wiser, deeper, stronger. There have been times when all I could do was “be still and discover anew that He is God” (Swindol, 1983, p. 24). But it is in those places, where all I could do was to be still that I have encountered the peace that surpasses all understanding, I have encountered His presence that has assured me that everything would work out in the end, and I have seen God come through and show that HE IS WITH ME AND CARING FOR ME.

All though we mourned the loss of a friend and missionary in March, his wife has been and continues to be such an example of strength and endurance. We have also witnessed God’s goodness and restoration when in April she gave birth to their second earthly child… a little boy. Also, our friend’s legacy lives on as the ministries he helped establish continue to grow and flourish.

Even though I was hit with an illness and lost consciousness in a remote village in Guatemala, there “just happened” to be not one.. BUT TWO U.S. doctors visiting when the event occurred, and they came running to provide immediate medical attention. Also, with the doctors was a team from the local church which included someone who could drive me out of the village and to the hospital for medical attention (no one at the school can drive). God KNEW what was going to happen… and put everything in place to provide EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED IN THAT MOMENT.

Despite struggling with residual symptoms and pain, I have heard God’s voice reassuring me again and again that He would heal me. It wasn’t instantaneous (I would have preferred instantaneous), but in the journey He showed me… that I CAN TRUST HIM… THAT HE IS WITH ME… AND HE STILL DOES WORK MIRACLES. And today… I AM FREE OF PAIN AND SYMPTOMS. I AM HEALED.

Although I have been hit with fear and nightmares, I have learned the importance of “doing battle together” (kinda tough for someone who has been largely independent her entire life). I have reached out to several friends and powerful prayer warriors to pray with me and for me, and they pray faithfully when a need arises. I have also learned more about my own power and authority in Christ. I have grown bolder in my authority to speak to fear, to speak to anxiety, to deny feelings of loneliness, to rebuke the attack of the enemy, and to call down His protection. Don’t get me wrong… I knew I had this power and authority.. and I had prayed many similar prayers before… but there is something about waking up in the middle of the night from a terrifying nightmare… being completely alone… feeling almost a tangible presence of fear…  and recognizing that WE HAVE THAT POWER… and using it with boldness.

Even though I could not be physically present to help my family with my mother’s transition, my sister has stepped up in an incredible way and is keeping us all advised of important information and developments (she’s a nurse practitioner). Also, my relationship with my sister has grown in a way that it would not have had we not been navigating this journey together.

So, yes… Mr. Charles Swindol is correct. It is in those times that we can only be still that we grow… we grow wiser, deeper, and stronger (Swindol, 1983). So… I have learned to be grateful for the hard times. I have learned to look for the growth in my own life, and celebrate it. Also, as a close mentor told me “It’s when you’re getting your butt kicked that you know you’re where God wants you to be ” (appropriate paraphrase).

So take heart, my friends. If you’re in a winter season… Look for the growth. Remember… it’s in those moments when we can only be still that we grow. God is still there. He’s still working. He’s not dead or deaf. He’s with us in the midst of it all. Don’t give up. Growth is not always pleasant, fun, or pretty. But it is necessary. When we come out of that season we will be stronger, deeper, and wiser (Swindol, 1983).

Thank you for being on this journey with me. I appreciate each of you as we pass through the seasons of life together.

Blessings,

Meaghen

References:

Swindol, C. (1983). Growing Strong in the Seasons of Life. Portland, OR: Multnomah Press.

Call the Locksmith!!

Just have to share my most recent adventure in replacing the lock on the apartment door with you all… it’s a long story… but it’s a good one (grab a snack and read away..)

I’ve become accustomed to living a FAR LESS streamlined life in Guatemala, so when my key broke off INSIDE the lock of the apartment door yesterday I expected there to be a few twists and turns in getting the lock replaced… but the adventure was a bit more exciting than I expected.

Let me set the stage by saying that the door to the apartment is a testimony to security. There is no knob, just a lock welded into a metal door that would be difficult for ANY SWAT team to breach (trust me on this one). So, when the key broke off INSIDE the lock yesterday I expected there to be a bit of a struggle.

However, after hours of prying, peering, and trying every tool known to man (and the groundskeeper taking his turn doing the same) I sadly admitted defeat and decided to “call in the professionals”…. But there is no locksmith in the village… or in the next village… or in the village three rivers away… in fact… I’m not sure there is a locksmith within thirty minutes BY CAR… Fortunately the key broke off with the door open, so we were able to rig a temporary fix until I could locate whatever professional existed for such situations.

So, I started to ask around the school and discovered that there IS a man who can replace the lock… but no one had his phone number… in fact… when I finally tracked down the teacher who KNOWS HIM PERSONALLY (Ruth), she told me that he DOESN’T USE HIS PHONE… so we would have to go see him PERSONALLY… Ok… no problem I don’t mind walking through the village… then she told me… he lives on the OTHER SIDE OF ALL FOUR RIVERS (without bridges) I cross to get to the village where I work… Well… it’s a good thing I have a four-wheel drive truck… and we planned to go see him after school today (around 3pm if it didn’t start to rain)…

At 3pm, I found Ruth as well as Zoila, Dulce, and Michelle waiting for me as word quickly got out that I was going on an “adventure” to go talk to the man who could fix the lock. I had to laugh as we all loaded into my truck (with all their personal items) to drive the bumpy dirt road, crossing through four rivers to go find the lock man… So the adventure began!!

We chatted away as we made our way down the dirt road, through the jungle, through each of the four rivers, and arrived at the lock man’s house. I only imagine what all five of us (four Guatemalans and a white girl) looked like piling out of the truck and descending on this poor unsuspecting soul who was working in his driveway when we arrived.

Ruth took the lead and explained to the man what had happened, as I stood back and “watched”… then the man asked me if I knew what brand the lock was and if it was “short or long” (and of course I didn’t)… the part that amused me about the entire exchange was that Ruth served as the “translator” between the lock man and I even though we both understood clearly what was being said and the only language being spoken was Spanish. The other teachers inserted comments too (and their version of the translation) as we exchanged information before ultimately deciding that I would have to drive the lock man back through all four rivers, through the jungle, and to the school to inspect the lock and see exactly what was needed…

So, we loaded up… and back we went… down the bumpy dirt road… through the jungle.. and through all four rivers to see the lock. Upon arrival, the lock man briefly locked at the lock… confirmed the needed size and brand… and began the discussion of price…

Ultimately, thanks to Ruth’s (and my) ability to convince the man that I am not a wealthy white tourist but rather a missionary of limited means…  we settled on a price and agreed that I would drive to the nearest city (down the dirt road… through the rivers.. and the jungle) to purchase the lock. However, it would need to be done quickly because the store closes at 5pm (it was approximately 4:15 at this time)… not to mention the dark clouds encroaching and threatening an afternoon storm (the rivers rise quickly and may not go down for hours leaving cars stranded at times)

So, off again we went… four Guatemalan teachers, myself, and a lock man in tow through the jungles, through the rivers, and to the city to purchase the lock. As the minutes crept closer to 5pm I became increasingly nervous… If we didn’t make it I would have to make ANOTHER trip through the jungles and rivers tomorrow to get the lock which would delay the installation… Dulce noticed my growing tension and encouraged me to calm down and assured me all would go well. The teachers distracted me with worship music and singing our favorite songs… and when I pulled into the hardware store at 4:57 I praised the Lord out loud for letting us arrive in time.  

Dulce was nominated (by the group due to her charming personality) to do the purchasing (I was told if I got out of the car or was seen that they would charge me more) so I hid behind the darkly tinted windows and watched the exchange from afar. The lock was purchased and after a brief discussion with the lock man about what time he would return the following day to install it (and if I would drive him back and forth through the rivers and jungle to do the installation), we came to an agreement and were off again to race the storm clouds home.

As we reached the halfway point back to the village, the rain began in sprinkles. The teachers (again seeing my concern) assured me that it was just raining in that location and not closer to the village. I have heard stories of buses getting stranded in the rivers and feared that we may be waiting for hours for the rivers to go down if we got stuck between rivers. I sped up a bit to try to race the rain home…

We hit the dirt portion of the road as the rain continued to pick up… and my tension grew… images of tidal wave type water surges filled my mind as I raced to cross the rivers in time. I held my breath as we approached the first river crossing (also the river that is the most dangerous and rises the fastest of all four)… as I rounded the corner I breathed a sigh of relief… the river was only slightly wider than usual… Thank the Lord…

With each subsequent river crossing the rain intensified as did my prayers… after forging the last (and deepest) river, I breathed a sigh of relief and declared “We arrived, thank You God”… to which the whole car cheered!! I dropped the teachers at their perspective houses, and returned to the school. I couldn’t help but laugh as I climbed the stairs to the apartment and thought… WHAT AN ADVENTURE…

I am so thankful that God has called me to live this life of adventure for Him in Guatemala… besides… crossing rivers and racing rain storms is FAR MORE EXCITING than just calling a locksmith!! J  

Unexpected Rain Showers...

                Rainy season in Guatemala is typically from May to October and it RARELY (if ever) rains outside of that time frame. However, for the past few weeks we’ve been having rain showers EVERY afternoon … and my sneaking suspicion is that this means rainy season will LAST ALL YEAR this year?!! If it’s already started in February… surely not… maybe?!!

Can You Pick Me Out? 

  In a similar way I have been experiencing a number of unexpected rain showers in the beginning of my second year here at Fuente de Esperanza. I won’t lie… it’s been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster being the ONLY English speaking person in the village. I CRAVE conversation in English and to be able to FULLY express my emotions and thoughts in a plethora of verbs, nouns, adjectives, and adverbs WITHOUT having to quickly conjugate a verb in my head mid-sentence or feel like the verb just doesn’t really communicate the strength of the emotion I’m feeling at the time.  Never mind the times I commit grammatical errors and feel far less intelligent than I know I am. Although I’m surrounded by students bustling between classrooms, teachers greeting me as we pass each other, and co-workers flowing in and out of my office I, at times, feel rather alone.

However, it’s during these times that I try (I don’t always succeed) to press into the ONE who I know is ALWAYS with me and seek my comfort in Him. And just like the unexpected rain showers we’ve been experiencing here in the village, He has been “showering” blessings down and encouraging me in ways I never expected.

This year I started teaching the devotion time to the 6^th-9^th graders (did I mention that before this adventure the middle school years were my LEAST FAVORITE age group?). There are times it’s like herding cats… students talking… playing… moving the stools around on the floor… playing with the curtains… Meanwhile I’m hoping that the verbs I am using are adequately communicating what Scripture says… However, in the past few weeks I have been “showered” with encouragement as I have watched students get excited to answer the review questions at the end of each week, they’ve started participating by singing during praise times, and I’ve had the pleasure of watching as they’ve started to realize that being a believer means actually APPLYING what Scripture says to our lives.

I have also started holding a small group with the 6^th-9^th grade girls every Wednesday afternoon in my apartment. I lured them in with cookies and Coca-Cola (I’m not above bribes)… and we’ve been going through Elizabeth George’s book “A Young Woman After God’s Heart”. This

Our Small Group :) 

week’s lesson was on prayer and having a daily devotional time. At the end of the group time, Mary came up to me beaming and said “Miss, I just want you to know I started praying this week… I realize I need to change some of my behaviors too. I just want to thank you for teaching us.” What?!! My eyes filled with grateful tears as I hugged Mary and told her how proud of her I was. Once again God was “showering” me with encouragement…

Some of my "Pollitos" 

Please don’t tell the students… but my absolute FAVORITE class is ALWAYS the Kindergarten class. There is something about these tiny adorable little dark haired babies and their HUGE BROWN EYES and their tiny little voices speaking Spanish. I mean… they are the CUTEST THINGS EVER… And I cannot tell you how many times God has used these little angels to encourage me in the past few weeks. I call them my “pollitos” (chicks) because I literally feel like a mother hen when they are around. It doesn’t matter where we are.. they come RUNNING FULL FORCE to me yelling “Missssssssss Meaghen” and attach themselves to my legs!! I can only move with about four of them attached to me.. any more than that and I just have to stand still. But God uses these babies to “shower” His love on me in some of my loneliest moments.

So, I’m not sure what you may be going through at this moment. Maybe your life is all rainbows and butterflies… or maybe like me you find yourself in a bit of an unexpected rainy season. Let me encourage you… Let God “shower” you with whatever it is you need in this time… He can use other people… time spent alone with Him… or getting tackled by a dozen kindergarteners… just take a look around you. He is moving whether we sometimes see it or not.

I appreciate you taking the time to read my blog. 

Blessings,

Meaghen 

In Over My Head...

“And You crash over me… and I’ve lost control but I’m free… I’m going under… I’m in over my head… And You crash over me… and that’s where You want me to be… I’m going under… I’m in over my head… Whether I sink… whether I swim… it makes no difference when I’m beautifully in over my head.”

I missed Wawa!! 

As you may know, I returned to the States for a two-month furlough on November 8^th to visit friends, family, and raise funds. I will be returning to Guatemala on January 4^th to start the coming school year at Fuente de Esperanza. My time in the States has been OVERWHELMINGLY good. God has brought me to the point of weeping simply from His goodness more than once since my return. The hugs, the encouragement, worshiping with and beside the people I have missed, sharing His story with my friends and family, and just being loved well has been an incredible experience. I am grateful to have a chance to recharge before heading back to my beloved Guatemala in January.

One of the common themes that has kept popping up during my time in the States has been that of letting go, losing control, and letting God move. This morning as I was listening to one of my favorite playlists the lyrics above jumped out at me. Instantly a number of memories from the past few weeks jumped into my mind.

First of all, as I was sitting last night at coffee with my friend Christy, she said something that only those who have come to a place of living their lives “out of control” understand. Christy spent her teenage years growing up on the mission field, and even though as she said “I can’t support this specifically with scripture, I can through personal experience.” Christy explained, and I agree with

Love My Peoples :) 

her, that being on the mission field brings you to a place where you are in a place of immense grace, providence, and protection that you can only equate with being in the perfect will of God. She went on to say that it’s not that we are outside the will of God when we are not on the mission field, or that we are not experiencing His goodness… but there is a whole different level of grace, providence, and protection that takes place when you say yes to stepping away and onto the mission field.

The only reasoning I can imagine behind this phenomenon is the surrender that is necessary on the mission field. Being on the mission field is completely OUT OF OUR CONTROL… and that is a hard place for many of us to live. We want to control… we want to organize… we want to plan… and often that is not the case on the mission field. The lack of control either breaks you or brings you to a place of complete surrender… of complete letting go.. and as I’ve said before… that is when God can come in and work. When we let go.. and lose control.

Doing Life... out of Control

Another memory that jumped to mind hearing these lyrics was precious hours I spent with a group of ladies doing life together in a prayer group. Again.. the common theme of letting go and losing control ran deep as each woman gave account of struggles over the past weeks. A child’s suicide attempt and hospitalization… the dream job opportunity which surfaced after hope was long abandoned… personal struggles in relationships… and learning to trust God as provider were all stories recounted amongst dear friends.

As I listened to the stories, I started to realize that being in control is such a false reality. The truth is… we control nothing. We struggle so hard to control things… to control schedules… to control life events… to control jobs… to control relationships.. to control… to manipulate things into whatever we want and desire…  but in reality we control nothing.

"Out of Control" on Ice

Now.. this isn’t to say that life is a collection of random events… that we shouldn’t act responsibly or care… or that we should just sit around and do nothing. However… the reality is is that we control NOTHING.… BUT when we can realize that it’s not our job to control.. and we can let go of our ATTEMPT to control… there is a FREEDOM that fills the void we are trying to fill by attempting to control all the details of life. When we can let go of the busyness of trying to control every single detail… there is a freedom in being OUT OF CONTROL.

I will admit.. I am definitely preaching to myself on this one. However, let me invite you (along with myself) to take a moment and think. What are we TRYING TO CONTROL? (Hint… it’s probably something you’re worried about.. money.. jobs… relationships… etc.) Now… choose to let go and lose control of it. Don’t stop praying.. don’t stop trusting.. don’t stop hoping.. but realize.. God’s got this. He is in control.. and when we let go.. He can move. The truth is.. we were never IN CONTROL in the first place.

Thank you for taking the time to read my blog. I appreciate each of you, your love, and your support. 

Blessings,

Meaghen 

Sailing on Unpredictable Seas...

Recently I was sitting in a cafe in Antigua drinking coffee with my friend, Val. I was sharing with her some of the hardships I am facing and how it is difficult to know which direction to take.

My delicious coffee :) 

 As Val looked at me over her steaming cup of rich dark Antiguan goodness, she said "Even though unpredictable is hard... it gives space for God to work." Her words stopped me... and I thought... she's right. Unpredictability gives space for God to work.

If you have read my earlier blogs, you know that God has taken me on a journey from being a planner to being a little more "flexible"throughout this journey. In fact I often joke and say that in the process of coming to Guatemala I attempted to "show God my 3-point plan and my PowerPoint" and tell Him how this journey was going to play out. You can imagine how that went over... I am fairly sure I heard God laughing at me. And here I am... NOT LIVING ACCORDING TO MY OWN PLAN. 

There are SO MANY THINGS that do NOT go according to plan when living on the mission field. Take what appears to be a "simple" trip to immigration. Often these trips turn into "all day events" which leave us mentally and physically exhausted due to changing paperwork, changing requirements, and waiting hours to be told that you are missing a form, have to pay a fine, or that your photos are the wrong size. Did I mention the guy who takes the photos uses a camera from the 1800s and develops the photos in THE BATHROOM?!! I kid you not!!

Everyone is excited about immigration

Other things that have taught me a lot about unpredictability and flexibility are things like when the date of school graduation gets moved because they haven't been able to get the diplomas printed on time... or when classes get canceled to celebrate one of the many Guatemalan holidays such as the "National Day of Corn"... or protesters shut down the MAIN HIGHWAY into the city and the only other route takes you an hour and a half in the wrong direction... or when you're taking a shower after a morning run and the water pressure slowly drops until there is NO WATER coming out of the shower and you have a head full of shampoo...or when suddenly there is traffic heading at you head on on a major highway because they open a travel lane on the opposite side of the road during heavy traffic times... All things that are unpredictable and don't go according to "my plan". 

I often remember that for many of our students at Source of Hope, the future is equally unpredictable. Two weeks ago was the last "official" week of school, and it was the last time I will see some of our students. We have students who will not be able to continue studying with us because of poor grades or behavior issues. We have sixth graders who will not be returning to school in order to go into the workforce and help support their families. We have fourteen ninth graders that are graduating and heading onto higher education or other opportunities. 

I would be lying if I said that I don't worry about "my" kids and the myriad of unpredictable things that may come their way. I worry about their opportunities to find "good" employment that will support their families and not cause them to age beyond their years with

The Picture that didn't go according to plan:) 

hard labor and poor working conditions. I worry that young ladies will make decisions that ultimately impede their future plans for a career or an education. I worry that some of our student's parents let them roam a little too freely in a country where sexual abuse and violence are often a cultural norm. I worry that they have enough food to eat and their own bed to sleep in. I worry... I worry about all the unpredictable things that may happen to them in a culture of unpredictability. 

And then I remember... Life is not going to be lived according to my plan. I need to let go.. and remember... that God is big enough. He is big enough to take care of my kids (ALL 194 OF THEM). He is big enough to take care of me. He is big enough to take care of my family back in the States. He is big enough. And to Him... NOTHING IS UNPREDICTABLE.

See, when things are unpredictable and we are "blindsided" by things we didn't see coming.. we learn to depend on God to get us through. It is in these times that as Val said "we give God room to work". I can and I do worry about my kids, but I must remember that His plans are higher than my plans and
His ways are higher than my ways. When I'm hit with news from home that shakes me to the core, I have to trust His plan beyond my own and know that He's got this. Nothing surprises Him. Even when things seem unpredictable... I need to remember... He knew me before I was formed in my mother's womb... He knows the number of hairs on my head.. and He knows what tomorrow brings.. and He knows the exact moment when I will take my last breath. 

So, I choose to let go. I'm laying down my plans.. what I think it should look like... and I choose to let life be unpredictable. I choose to give Him room to work. 

Thank you for taking the time to read my blog. I am grateful for each of you, your love, and your support. 

Blessings,

Meaghen 

Troughs and Crests

Flying in... 

  I recently celebrated my seven month "Guate-versary" and I started to reflect on the past seven months in this country. The best way I could think to describe it would be like the troughs and crests of waves as they come rolling into shore. As you prepare to come your emotions grow more and more excited... you can't sleep with expectation of your arrival.. and you can't wait to finally be on
foreign soil... and then the day FINALLY comes to board the plane and come to your "land of dreams". When you arrive on the mission field, you are filled with hope... excited about everything... your dream has come true... you love the food... you love the people.. you love the culture... you love everything... IT'S PERFECT!! At this point you're at the very top of the wave.. at the crest... you're riding on top of the world... and nothing could seem more perfect...


  Then... reality starts to set in... you have to learn a language that is not your heart language... the feelings of inadequacy creep in... you feel like a three year old trying to ask for a beverage at a restaurant.. you want to tell people "I'm not stupid... I have a Master's degree... it's just that I don't know this language well enough"... the cultural norms are confusing.. you don't know what you are supposed to do at a funeral... how do you greet the deceased's family...do you push into line in the market and demand attention when the lady selling strawberries is ignoring you and serving everyone around you... how do you give directions to the tuk tuk driver to get to your house... do you try the food that the local family made for you and risk major gastrointestinal assault....

Navigating Traffic in Guatemala

you learn how to "fake" eating and drinking things that may not be "safe" to eat.... and still not understanding why you can't flush toilet paper like a "normal person". At this point you start the nose-dive down the back of the wave and into the trough. The culture stress builds until one day you find yourself crying over cookies... or in my case crying over a student who repeatedly intentionally made jokes that I didn't understand.

  When you're in the trough.. it's hard. You don't doubt that God has brought you to your new
country.... but you're not so sure you really want to be here anymore... You long for the "Honeymoon Phase" to return when everything was perfect. Even doing normal things like asking a question or voicing your opinion can be a struggle. You yearn for someone who speaks your language and understands your home culture. You yearn for your friends... your family.. and people who "get you". You get tired of always being stared at for being different.. for people assuming you don't understand because "you're not from here"... and being mentally and physically exhausted at trying to figure it all out.


  Then one day... you start the climb up the wave again... little by little you start to understand the culture and the language... operating in a foreign culture becomes almost normal... and you start to get stared at because you CAN ACTUALLY COMMUNICATE LIKE A NORMAL PERSON... you're finding your stride... You're starting to make friends... things are looking up... You're climbing to the crest again...

  And the scale tips yet again and you find yourself slipping down the backside of a wave... your favorite students have to flee the village because of extortionists... a baby conceived in sexual assault dies only a few months into her short life sending her mother and friends into yet more emotional
hardship and difficulty... you listen as a fourteen year old boy explains the rejection he regularly receives at home from his mother, step-father, and step-siblings and how he must work two jobs while attending the fifth grade.... a promising young woman who graduated from the ministry program is struck by a vehicle while crossing the road and later dies from a head injury sustained from the accident... and you're back in the trough again... asking why... why are these things happening... why is it so difficult sometimes...


  Little by little the climb starts again... The student you're doing physical therapy with who has been wheel-chair bound is able to balance himself without support on crutches... You watch as the student's faces start to light up during the devotional times and you realize "they are starting to get it"... Your

ministry partner tells you that one of the students who had been struggling with identity and sexual sin prayed to receive Jesus Christ as her personal savior... You are literally tackled by the Kindergarten class anytime you walk into their classroom... and just like that.. you're back at the crest again...


  Due to recent difficulties I have spent quite a bit of time in prayer and asking God why we have to go through the troughs in our lives. Why do we need to walk through the hard parts. He answered me... and said... that's how you gain strength to make it to the crests. See... as we're diving into the troughs of the waves... we're gaining momentum... we're gaining speed... we're gaining strength... and when we hit the trough and start the upward climb.. it's only because of that speed and that strength that we are able to make it to the crest of the next wave. The troughs are necessary to propel us to the coming crests. Wow...


  So... I want to encourage you today... wherever you are in the ebb and flow of life... maybe you're on the crest.. maybe you're in the bottom pit of the trough... remember... we must go through the troughs to make it to the next crest. It's a process... and there is a purpose. At times it's hard... at times it's rough... but keep pressing forward. Keep pressing through... because the crest is coming... and it's with the power and momentum we receive from going through the trough that we will reach the crest.


  Thank you for taking the time to read my blog. 

Blessings,
Meaghen

Fighting Against the Darkness.. My Personal Struggle against Suicide.

  Today on my Facebook feed a memory from six years ago popped up, and I was instantly transported to SEVEN YEARS AGO TODAY and the events that were taking place. I will warn you... this is going to be a not so pretty story about the lowest point in my life and is not the usual post I share on my blog. However, this morning I have felt so pressed to share it... and I know that someone out there needs to hear this.. and needs to know that THEY ARE NOT ALONE.

  Seven years ago, today, I was working for a Sheriff's Department in Mississippi as a Deputy Sheriff. At this point, I had been a police officer for six and a half years and I LOVED MY JOB. However, what I didn't realize at this point was that ALL I KNEW ABOUT MYSELF was that I WAS A POLICE OFFICER. I had entered the police academy when I was twenty years old and I was twenty-one when I graduated. So, I had spent the most "formative" years of my life as a police officer. I had such promise... I was going places.... I was on the verge of an assignment that would mean a promotion... I was so PROUD of who I THOUGHT I was.. where I THOUGHT I was going.. and what I THOUGHT I was doing.

  Then there was him. He was a married co-worker (yep.. I went there) with whom I was romantically involved for OVER A YEAR at this point. He made me feel like I was valued.. he made me feel wanted... and he made me feel desired. And... he kept promising.. month after month.. after month... after month that he would leave his wife for me... he didn't want to be with her...she was crazy... they only lived in the same house.. she was leaving in a few weeks... he didn't love her... that soon he would be with me.. that he would marry me one day..

  Rumors starting circulating within the Sheriff's Department where we worked that he and I were romantically involved, and of course... we denied it. We believed there was no way without either one of us admitting to it, that anyone could ever prove it. However, a full on internal investigation was launched and on July 29, 2009 I stood before the Chief Deputy in his office and was informed that my resignation would only be accepted if it was effective immediately.

  In that moment, my world came crashing down. In that moment, my identity SHATTERED... I was a police officer... what would I do if I wasn't a police officer? Where was I going to go? I was SO FULL OF SHAME that seeing my co-workers and them knowing what I had done.. and that I had lied was OVERWHELMING... I had to leave.. but WHERE? I drove my patrol car back to my home and called my supervisor on the way. My supervisor told me to load all my equipment into my patrol car and they would come to pick it up later that afternoon.

  As I watched my supervisor back my patrol car out of my driveway... I collapsed. It was like watching myself being taken away in that moment. I laid on the floor crying for hours... I cried until I didn't have tears anymore. I couldn't eat... I couldn't sleep... I couldn't think... and not only had I lost my career.. and my identity.. but I lost him as well. He wouldn't return my calls.. I tried to send messages through friends.. and nothing. Nothing. I didn't hear from him from that day forward.

 That's when the darkness crept in. I remember laying in my bed and the thoughts that came to me were overwhelming. Just end it... you're not worth it... you'll never be respected again... you're a liar... you'll never be loved again... you're worthless... you're never going to be a police officer again. I had guns in the house... I still had my own personal handgun. I imagined placing the gun to my temple and pulling the trigger... ending it all.... but then...

 I imagined my friends.. my fellow first responders being the ones who found me.. what my nieces would think... what my family would think... and that was the narrowest thread that kept me hanging on in that moment. This day started a very hard and a very difficult period in my life... I won't lie and say immediately everything changed... because it didn't. But... I chose to fight. I chose not to listen to the voices and push against the darkness... and there were times I didn't want to.. when thoughts of suicide would arise again.. but I refused to give up.

Two weeks later, I landed in Hawaii. My sister invited me to come live with them while I started to rebuild my life. I have told her.. and I hope she knows.. that she helped save my life during this time.
Over the next few years, I moved back to the mainland and I actually got a job as a police officer again in a tiny town in Mississippi. And... God used this tiny town and it's people to love me back to Him. See... I had begun running from my faith and from God when I was in the police academy. I still believed in Him and knew He loved me.. but I wanted to live my life for me.

 One early morning in the early winter of 2011... I had once again had enough. But, this time.. I had had enough of living my life for me and running from God. I remember crying out.. through tears and praying "I don't want to live like this anymore"... and the peace flooded me. I was filled with hope.. a promise.. and I began to learn who I REALLY AM.

  Our identity is not WHAT WE DO... it's not WHO WE LOVE... it's not WHERE WE LIVE... our identity is WHO HE CREATED US TO BE. We are HIS CHILDREN.. HIS MOST PRECIOUS GIFTS... We are the ones HE SINGS OVER... the ones HE PURSUES... the ones HE FORGIVES... the ones HE DELIGHTS IN... the ones HE CREATED. And until we know that.. and accept that.. we will go around chasing identities in careers... and relationships.. and places.

 So, I don't know where you are today... maybe you're not sure of your identity.. maybe you feel lost.. maybe you don't want to go on.. maybe you feel like giving up. PLEASE KEEP FIGHTING. KEEP PUSHING AGAINST THE DARKNESS. DON'T GIVE IN. DON'T GIVE UP. TOMORROW IS A NEW DAY.. THERE IS HOPE.. THERE IS A FUTURE. THERE IS A GOD WHO LOVES YOU DESPITE ANYTHING YOU MAY HAVE DONE.. AND HE'S CHASING AFTER YOU.

 When I look back to seven years ago, I would NEVER BELIEVE that I would be where I am today. As I type this.. I'm sitting at my desk in my apartment in Antigua, Guatemala. Today I am a missionary with an organization that ministers to at-risk children. Today I speak hope to children and people who are broken.. suffering.. and in need of a reason to continue on. If I had given into the darkness that day... I would never be here. The darkness would have won.. and I could not be helping to set other people free from the same darkness that tried to take me.

So, please.. keep pressing. You never know where you'll be sitting next month, next year.. or seven years from now. You never know how life can change.. for the better.. when you let God in.

Today, I am proud to stand and say "I AM NO LONGER A SLAVE TO FEAR... I AM A CHILD OF GOD".

 If you are feeling suicidal... and you need to talk to someone... please... talk to a friend.. a family member... a church member... or call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at:
1-800-273-TALK (8255)

Blessings,
Meaghen