Houston to Istanbul…

  • 756 days
  • … or 108 weeks
  • … or approx. 24 months
  • … or approx. 2 years
  • 519 working days (4152 hours, assuming 8-hour workday),
  • 237 non-working days including:
    • 108 Saturdays,
    • 108 Sundays 

    • 22 Federal holidays (US) falling on weekdays



    That’s how long it’s been since I wrote anything till last Saturday. There are many many reasons why I stopped writing. All of them very personal and full of a sea of emotions. I am a flawed human, I am broken, and left to my.own devices I can ruin anything and everything in specatualr fashion.  I have made an ocean of mistakes. In own my mistakes. They are my own doing. 
    For many those mistakes will be all they ever see. I will be defined (in their eyes) by my past. I will be indeed the sum of my mistakes…in their eyes. 


    However I am not bound by the perceptions and ideas of men, there is but one I will ultimately answer to, and that one does not see me or define me by my mistakes. Instead he sees me clean and pure as freshly fallen snow. 


    Therefore I sit on a plane, 37,ooo feet above the Atlantic Ocean just off the coast between New York and Boston 

    On my way to Chisinau Moldova. A small country that sits between Romania and Ukraine. In this country there is a people group that are outcasts, shunned, and generally ignored by society. They are deaf. Moldova is very much behind the U.S. in their understanding that the Deaf community can function and thrive if they are just given the chance. 
    This trip has been in the making for two years. The total cost for airfare and living expenses is near $2500, which seems very steep a price tag for someone that lives on my budget. However I had faith, others had faith, and I was told by several that “God will provide, you just get ready to go!” So I did.
    The morning I was to leave, the air fare was bought and paid for on faith, the last $600 was pledged to me. My trip was completely and totally funded by donations. 
    Saturday I was to leave with a fellow team member, fly to Houston, meet a third team member, then continue on to Chisinau. The week leading up to my departure was filled with more obstacles disguised as blessings than I could fathom. 
    Ordinarily when I have work it’s a good thing. But when I have too much work to even pack or pick up the last minute items the team needs, it’s not a good thing. 
    Saturday morning 7am: (10 hours till take off) my day begins

    8am (9 hours): I meet with a couple I hold dear in my life, they anoint my head, lay hands on me, and pray for me. 

    9am: Two stops at two different banks to pay bills and collect cash for the trip. 

    10am: Drive to an appointment to trim horses. 

    12pm (5 hours): Leave after the last 2 out of 6 refused to be caught and trimmed. Pick up two of the minions and take them with me to the store. 

    1pm: Pick up last minute items for myself and the team. Spend time with all the heathen hoard. 

    1:30pm: Head to meet my ride to the airport. 

    2pm(3 hours): Leave for airport. Remember everything I forgot to pack…like a tooth brush. 

    2:30pm: Arrive at the airport, check in, navigate TSA, find gate, get comfortable to wait for boarding. 

    3pm: Flight delayed

    4pm: Flight delayed again

    4:15pm: Flight cancelled due to storms in Houston. 

    Spend the next three hours trying to find a way to houston, rebook flights, gather check baggage (two hour process), go home and wait.
    All week, all day, it felt like we were fighting something. Not a warning, not that nagging feeling that says “I don’t think we are supposed to be doing this…”

    This was definitely a feeling of something actively fighting to prevent us from going. Now I need to take a slight detour here and fill you in on somethings…
    First off several months into the process of prepping for this trip I felt overwhelmed by my personal life and began to think maybe it would be best if I stayed home. I hadn’t told anyone. 
    Not. One. Single. Soul.
    I was at a bible study and a person came up to me and said “I have a word for you, if you will give me just a moment” of course I agreed and they stood very quietly with their head slightly bowed. Then looked me right in the eye and said “All the chaos in your life will end soon…if you don’t give up”
    I was speechless. This person had only learned my name an hour before. 
    Followed closely by another member of the team coming to me and saying “You need to know that it is very important that you be a part of this trip. Something big is going to happen and you are in the middle of it.”
    Then they proceeded to tell me of a vision they had, it sent goosebumps up and down my spine. Again I hadn’t told a sout I was thinking maybe it was best for me to stay home. 
    With all this in mind Saturday felt very much like some dark sinister works were standing against us.
    After two days if waiting for the new flight day and time, the weather report for Houston showed there was a chance of severe weather again on Monday. But NOT all day, just for the short window of time we were supposed to be landing and trying to take off. 
    There were people all over the world who hit their knees. No surprise to the team, the weather held off long enough for the plane to take off.
    There are big things coming to the camp for deaf children in Chisinau, Moldova. 

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