To most people, this just looks like a journal. But to me, it's not. Its a handmade journal with handmade paper pages and I have written in it meticulously thoughts and prayers leading up to my mission trip to Haiti this summer. Last week, I tossed it in my bag with plans to write in it later along with a water bottle, which I later discovered did not have a lid that was screwed on quite tight enough. To my surprise, when I pulled this prized possession of mine out of my bag, it was not a little wet. Not damp. It was dripping. It had absorbed the entire leaked bottle of water and my thoughts and prayers and questions and dreams were the sad, smeared result of it all. I handled it like a mature adult cried like a baby (I'm ashamed to say) and watched as it sat, propped open, drying in front of a fan for almost a week.
Then, Jesus put His hands on my shoulders and shook me and said, "Seriously? When did you become so materialistic? Isn't this for Haiti? You think they cry over spilled water there?" I heard Him loud and clear. What a wake up call. This is proof that Jesus allows things to happen to speak to us, to get a hold of our hearts, and to grow in us an even deeper desire for Him. I am so glad my journal got drenched. I am so glad that the Lord is working in my heart months before I return to the place I love. Americans think that life is so wonderful and luxurious here, but I've found myself praying more and more often for a heart like the Haitian people. They know what real joy means... and it doesn't come from things.
So, when I pull out this journal in the years to come, it will serve as a tangible reminder of the way Jesus speaks to me and when someone asks, "hey, what happened to your journal?" I'll get to reply, "oh, that's just Jesus teaching me a thing or two."
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