Rachel's Reflections

I knew it was coming. The proposal. Geraldo had been intentional and upfront with me from the first day. He didn't want to play around with my heart or his. I didn't want to date for the fun of it either, and after two months, I knew he was the answer to my years of praying for a husband. I knew when he had the ring, too, and waited anxiously for his proposal. "Please surprise me,"  I had told him, "But good luck, because it's hard to surprise me." He tried his best, but I picked up on enough hints to figure out when he would propose. The ruse was meeting my parents halfway for a picnic on the 4th of July weekend. My mom and I planned the menu and divided it up between us.  "Let's go an hour early," Geraldo said, "and walk around before your parents get there." "Sure," I replied. Hmm, that's probably when he'll propose , I thought. I had all the food ready on time,  dressed in my best, with my fingernails painted...

The end of August felt like anguish to me. It eerily reminded me of the difficult year I had in Mozambique. Everything swirling around me, like in a cyclone, one thing after another after another, making it hard to catch my breath. Earlier this year, my spring class focused on abiding in God, surrendering to Him, stepping aside, and letting Him live His life through me. It was such a beautiful thing. Truths I had heard before finally clicked. My favorite illustration from the class was that in the storms of life, focusing on God is like sitting in the eye of a storm, watching it swirl around you but unaffected by it. The summer storm built up slowly at first. My team leaders were gone. I hosted a 5-Day Club at the end of July. Midweek, our short-term lady arrived, and I started showing her the ropes. My team leaders returned, and we buckled down on preparations for our big Back-to-School picnic. Things were getting busier, like wind levels increasing. Then, the week before the big picn...