Turning the Page

Reflecting on the past year tonight... 
It's my last day of being 16, and the year has been absolutely amazing.  It has honestly been the best year of my life - two mission trips (one still in progress!), a brand new school, a whole lot of growth, and a boatload of memories.  The year has been incredible!  

 The only thing that's getting me is that it actually is almost my birthday.  It is so odd to think about – even the fact that this is July is hard to wrap my head around.  I’ve subconsciously been beginning to look forward to Christmas... in July.  

The cold weather fools me into thinking that it is October or November, and snuggling down, under a million blankets every night only affirms the delusion.  But tomorrow is 

July 3, and I seventeen I will be. 

 It hit me yesterday that it will me my last year of childhood, as well as my last childhood birthday.  Makes me want to cry a little bit – little me is actually growing up.  

But I am excited.  

Tomorrow morning I will wake up, probably sweating from all the blankets, and smile because it will be my birthday.   Then I’ll hear Stanley screaming out, “Good morning, Bethsaida!  How’d you sleeep?”  And I’ll smile and be so thankful for my two “brothers”, one Swiss and one South African, and the trio we make.  

I’ll bake cookies from the recipe I found on Pinterest today and sit down to coffee and a little pow-wow with Jesus.  Then we’ll head out to church at 11, and I’ll get a little teary as I realize that it will be my last Sunday at His People for while.  But soon enough I’ll be grinning again and praising Jesus for another year. 

Turning 17 in South Africa - how's that for a special birthday?!  After church we'll head out to Ms. Kitty house and she'll give me a huge hug saying, "Good morning, sister!  Good morning!"and I will be so happy because I just love that lady and her beautiful, beautiful heart.  Ms.  Dorah will be there in all of her spunk and personality, and make me laugh with her silliness.  Sweet little John will be there as well, and melt my heart a million times over with the sweetness of his.  And I'll smile and thank God for life and how beautiful he has made it.  My God is good, and I am so thankful for another year to see more and more of Him and His power.  Bring it on, seventeen! 

When I Don't Understand

Today brought some hard, hard news for me.

It's honestly hard to believe that so much could happen in a day.

I thought everything was settled... I thought I'd be boarding a plane to Uganda in 120 days... I thought that was God's will... I thought I was sure.

I just don't understand.  

Have I accepted it?  Not really.  Even now I'm trying to work something out for Uganda, refusing to let go of this dream...

Learning that I wouldn't be going to Uganda this summer felt like part of me was dying.  

Just like a death in a family, everything reminded me of my loss.

Christmas songs playing on the radio?

They remind me of baby Emmanuel I won't be meeting anytime soon.

Baby blankets in the little's closet?  

They remind me of the suitcases full of supplies that I won't be taking to Uganda.

The picture of two sweet Ugandan babies I posted on Instagram not 24 hours ago?

It reminds me of the reality that was alive then and is postponed now.  

Walking down the craft isle in Walmart?

It reminded me that I won't be needing to make a countdown to Uganda after all.  

Reading through my Bible?

Reminds me that even though I don't understand, God is in control.

Is it ok?

No, it hurts.

Is it God's will?

If it is, He'll give me the grace to accept it.

But right now, I'm so thankful for those who know me best reminding me of God's truth...

This comment from Gandy gives me so much grace to believe... Believe that God has a plan in this.

She wrote,

..."I know that God has a plan for you and only time will tell what His plan for you is... Right now you must trust His timing and accept that you must get on with your life as you grow into the woman He has in mind....His plans will become clearer as you grow and learn..."  

 Thank God for Gandy... and for Mom who knows that it's like to have formally open doors closed to you.  She told me, "Brittany, you know that when it hurts this badly, God is doing something really big behind the scenes..."

 I don't get it.  This hurts.  And all the same, I know deep down in my heart that God does have something big... right now trusting is incredibly hard, but I know that my Father loves me... and right now that's enough.   

A Dream about my Lost Brother

The title of this post may have grabbed your attention.

To clear things up, I want to tell you that the boy I will talk about was never certainly going to be my brother.

I will give more details later, but although he was never officially my big brother, he will always be in my heart.

 

That being said, here is the post I had planned to write:

Last night I had a vivid dream.

Before I tell it, I want to give you a pit of background.

After my parent were married, they hosted a sweet, young boy from Belarus in the summer.

His name was Stas.

He began coming home to spend summer with my family, before I was born, when he was 8 years old.

In fact, Stas was here in the US with my parents when I was at the time of my birth. 
It was a work of God for us through him that I was born at home instead of in VA.
My parent were going to Virginia to see family for July 4th, but Stas suddenly got a high fever and my parents decided to wait. 
And then I was born unexpectantly the next day 6 weeks prematurely on July 3d.
God worked for me and my parents through this sweet little boy, and I will always have him to thank for that, among other thing. 



Stas came every year for 10 wonderful summers.

My parents and I (though my parents remember it better) had the privilege of seeing Stas grow up from a sweet little 8 year old, to an even-sweeter-still 18 year old.

One year my little 6 year-old heart was broken when my big brother, Stas, never showed up.

I have missed him every year since.

 

Stas was wonderful.

My parents could speak more to this, I have absolutely ZERO memories of Stas misbehaving or giving us a hard time.

What I remember is my "big brother" playing baby dolls with Brandon and me,

swimming in the pool with him, his sincere smile,
 and - maybe my favorite - Stas reading Brandon and me a story book in Belarusian and not being fazed when we laughed our heads off because of how funny the language sounded to us.


 

And then he would leave.

I don't remember many of the early years,

but I do remember one year when I woke up early (after he had left) and I went upstairs to his room.
All his things were gone.
Every toy was put away.
Every trace of him vanished.
I looked for a picture of him, and couldn't find even that.
That may have been the last year he ever came.
Somehow my 6 year-old heart knew that I'd never see him again on earth.



Stas had a special possession.
It was a stuffed animal Pooh Bear, who he would never take back to Belarus with him for fear of it getting stolen.

 He loved it, and I, as young as I was, could see that.
Years after he left the last time, I gathered Brandon and David in my room and showed them the Pooh Bear. 
I told them how Stas had cherished it.
Then I told them that I had promised to myself that I would keep it for him every year until he returned.  I would not let it get thrown or given away.
I was Stas's, and Stas's it would remain.

*sigh*

But, in my dream,

I was standing in our playroom (of our new house, which Stas has never seen) with my parents.
Kaden and Bethany were there playing as well.
I turned around, and there was Stas, about 16 years old, not saying a word, only standing there with a huge smile on his face and joy in his eyes.
My mouth dropped open and I just stood there, speechless.
Words escaped me and I didn't know what to do.
Not like the awkward silence that occurs when someone forgets their line in a play or anything.
No, it was nothing like that. 
It was a total, joyous overpowering that rendered me speechless.
Suddenly, I ran from the room to get something.
I came back with the Pooh Bear, and placed it in his hands.
And then my dream ended.

In my dream, Stas looked exactly like this

I don't know what exactly it means.
Maybe I will see Stas again on earth.
Maybe God's trying to tell me that I'm released from my promise, as simple as it may be.
Maybe Stas has found a family wherever he is.
Perhaps I can stop remembering him with the twinge of sadness over my loss.
Whatever it may be, I know that God has it under control, and I can simply trust him.
I love you, Stas!