My beautiful Kristina

I don't know many people who have had lives that are as tragic as my sister Kristina. Her story is amazing, but sad because she lost her family. Seven years ago Kristina came to the US thinking that she would return to her mother and siblings, but she ended up staying. She had surgery, that I believe was disappointing in that it didn't make her all better. Then she lived with some awful people and eventually came to live with us.

Kristina just planned a trip back to Ghana to see her family. She is leaving in about a month.

Today we got the news that her mother died. She hasn't seen her in seven years, and now she will not see her again.

All I can do is hold her and cry with her.

Mary

It has been three month and still no sign of anything. I have to admit that I feel a little, well, crazy. It's not that I don't believe, but my belief - it was once such strong confidence that I thought nothing could shake it - is mixed with overwhelming doubt.

There are some things that I do not doubt. I don't doubt that God is good. That he cares for me. That he cares for his people. That the messiah is coming. But, this seems so insane. There is no evidence that I saw an angel or heard the word of the Lord. There is no evidence that a child is within my womb.

Sometimes I am sure of this thing, more sure than I am of air and light. I become so consumed with certainty that I do not understand this other person who seems to rear her head - the doubter. Today I cannot find the certainty. Today I am plagued with doubt.

I doubt whether or not I have heard correctly. I doubt whether or not I am crazy. I feel very presumptious. Why would God choose me? Why do I think myself so special?

There are these cycles of thought that swirl around my head like vultures getting ready to attack. They accuse me. They bombard me with doubt.

For three months I have waited for evidence. My body is the same. Still I believe, though I doubt, still I believe.

Not so Patient... in the Waiting Place

There is this place in life where God sometimes brings us - The Waiting Place. Living in this place is like knowing that Christmas is coming, but you aren't sure when it is, and it may not come for a very long time. The Waiting Place is like sitting for a long day; you want to get up and run around, but you know you can't... yet.

I've thought I was in the Waiting Place in previous years, but I realize that I was just in that place where you are getting trained. Trained to wait. Trained to be still. Trained to be in quiet.

This is the place where you have no options but to "Be Still and know I AM is God." It is the place where the shadows of hopes and dreams have been driven out and even a moment of creativity comes as a fresh breeze. I want to start moving in a direction, but I can't. I want to get ready for the next thing, but I don't know what it is. I don't feel fear or foolishness or pride. I feel like God says to me, "Be Still." I ask, "How long?" I get no answer, just his smile and a sparkle in his eye. I remember him once saying, "You can't figure this out, Jess. I can sneak up behind you and surprise you." I await a surprise. I await an adventure. I await something amazing. I await my Jesus, and I know that I will not be disappointed.