Prayer.

I'm blown away by how much prayer makes a difference. By how spending time on my knees before Him - listening, praising, requesting - fills me with confidence and peace. By how miserable I sometimes am if I don't take time to pray. And by how I can see God clearly and specifically answering prayer.

I often look at the list of people who may be interested in the opportunity to be involved in my work with ICI and make excuses for them. They're probably too busy to meet, they probably can't give, they probably only care about overseas missions. I shouldn't even bother them. Recently I've considered removing a few from that list. I tried unsuccessfully to contact some, and am pretty sure others just won't be interested. A few days ago I sat down, looked at those names, and prayed. Should I continue to pursue them, or just highlight and tap "delete"? I decided to wait and see if God might give me some insight. "Lord, open doors, give me clarity of thought and speech, help me to know if I should contact them or just give up."

That very day one of those people contacted me.

The next another approached me after church, overheard my conversation with a ministry partner and wanted to know more. 

Immediate, direct answer to prayer. 

Why do I doubt?

God doesn't always answer the way I want him to. Some of the people I've asked Him to bring on my team He already has involved in other ministries. "No, Cristina, these aren't the ones. I have different plans for them. And others I want you to know." 

He doesn't always answer that clearly or quickly. I've spent long hours crying out to Him on behalf of family or friends, asking why He delays. I've asked for clear direction for a decision in my life only to realize I have to make it on my own using the wisdom and reasoning He's already given me. I can't always see the results of my praying.

But His clear involvement in all that I'm doing now gives assurance that I am doing the right thing. That my progress in support raising is definitely not by my own doing. And I know it is not just my prayer, but all of your prayers He is answering. Thank you!

Side note: My neighbor's tree is blooming. I love spring!

Just one of those days.

I sit reclining in the driver's seat of my car (which I am still amazed that I even have), feet propped in the corner of the open window. Cool spring breezes alternate with the heat of the engine blowing through the vents. I stare at the trees swaying in the wind, listen to the rustling, whispering of the branches. The leaves are still young, having only appeared a day or two ago. The trees are black silhouettes against a cloudy sky, city lights casting a pink-tinged glow. Something that had been uptight slowly starts to unwind in my chest. The rumbling idle surrounding me like a breathing giant, the distant sound of cars, and the wind talking with the trees are soothing.

Sitting in a car at night makes me feel safe. It reminds me of the countless times my family traveled. As we neared home I would gradually wake up from dozing but keep my eyes closed. My parents' murmured conversation from the front reminding me that all was right in the world. My now feigned sleep kept the spell hovering in the air, knit together by hushed words, dark night, and the constant gentle shake of the engine. As we turned into the driveway, Dad would shift into park and just wait. There would be a few seconds before Mom said "We're... Home!" As the car idled, I wanted that moment to last forever.

Now nearing my 23rd birthday, having taken on many of the responsibilities of an adult and watching several more loom on the horizon, I feel so old and yet so very young and inexperienced. I just want to be that little girl again, cherished and protected by her parents. All is right in that world, packed into a car with my two siblings sleeping beside me, my family all together, so close and quietly content.

The moment the key is turned and the engine dies down is a sharp reminder of reality. We have to go inside to squint at bright lights and brush our teeth, awakening lulled senses, trade warm clothes for more comfortable pajamas, crawl between cold sheets and wish that the bed had an engine that could sooth us back into oblivion.

Maybe that's why I'm still sitting outside in my car more than an hour after getting home. I want to delay reality, to be safe and loved - ironically alone in my car filled with nostalgia. I'm overwhelmed by the irrational desire to move back home with my parents, where responsibilities are measurable and acceptance and understanding are a constant.

Now, we all have our off-days, when it seems we got out on the wrong side of the bed (though the other side is against the wall, so I'm not sure how that works). But here's the thing: I've spent a good part of the evening trying to find something to make me feel better - food, chocolate, friends, TV, a trip to the store, sitting in the car. I've been trying to fix myself with all the things I know that help. But I've neglected what can help most.

He'll quiet me with His love, rejoice over me with His song.
He'll hide me in the shadow of His wings.

He restores my soul.
He cries with us, rejoices with us. And provides things like the wind to remind us of His goodness.

I am reminded to seek Him.

Yet I think its OK once in a while to allow the gentle vibrating hum of the car to lull me into contentment, to find solace in the physical that brings forth the memories of a treasured past. It makes me want to cry from relief. Or maybe I want to cry because its just been one of those days, where tears are inexplicable and a good long, solid mom-hug (or dad-hug!) is the only thing that can right a skewed world. 

To be honest, this - writing this - is also a way to quiet whatever is irrationally, inexplicably wrong tonight. Writing, guitar, piano, crafting - creative expressions make the world better.
And I think that is a gift. Something God gives us to deal with the stresses of life, something tangible. For others it may be running, or gardening, or sports, or - well, you know what helps you. If we have the right intentions, these can be an act of worship, of gratitude, of trust, using the gifts he has given us to handle life. 

So maybe it's a good thing I took time to simply sit in the car, watch the trees dance and let the words flow.

And maybe now I should let my poor engine rest and go inside.