Absolute uncertainty. Absolute faith.

img_5296Just when I didn’t think I could handle yet another unknown on my own, my world started filling with connections and conversations. Luckily, I have a special person in my life who always tells me that God hears my tears. And it’s true. It seems like those tears have been working their way to the surface a lot lately. I have many different types of tears, but the kind I’m referring to right now come from a deep and anguished place. They come from a place of needing God. Maybe that’s a good thing. The need be close to the Abba I met when Carl died is just as serious now as it was in the beginning.

“The beginning.” What a weird way to refer to Carl’s death. But that’s when everything changed. That’s when I truly found out who God is. I feel like I should be shifting the conversation away from talking about Carl so much. In some ways, I feel as tho I’ve “legitimately” entered some sort of “next chapter” of this story, but my self-made constructs simply aren’t holding water. My theories leak, a lot like my eyes. I’m still making sense of all of this (whatever “this” is) and, quite honestly, there’s a lot to make sense of. My world is being turned upside down…and I’m actively participating in it. Pardon me, but what am I doing?

It’s one thing to give your life to God, have him personally hand you a job several months later, and then be told that you’re supposed to pick up an move to Africa. I think that’s the part that is most inspiring and/or shocking to people. But, honestly…that’s the easy part.

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I. Send me!” ~Isaiah 6:8

The difficulties that I never anticipated are the sheer amount of COMPLICATIONS, WORRIES, UNKNOWNS and HARD WORK that go along with the LOGISTICS and LEGALITIES of making such a move! Sorry for all the capital letters, but I need to breathe.

So far, in down-sizing and preparing to move, I’ve managed to turn my studio into a giant, unusable mess; I’ve begun the courage-requiring leap of shutting down my business (and therefore my income!); I’ve decide that I’m going to subject my pets to all the same uncertainties of health, safety and well-being (or lack of) that I’m throwing myself into; annnnd I’ve done a fine job of upheaving the life of a little 8 year old Ugandan girl who has been through more abuse and difficulty than I even want to spell out. She now calls me mum and I take that seriously. The potential to fail is mind-boggling real.

This doesn’t even address the actual issue of my original intention in moving to the other side of the world: which is to work with widows and gaggle of impoverished kids.

Oh my word…WHAT AM I DOING?!!!!!!

And that’s precisely the problem these days: I don’t know how to do this!! I’ve never run a non-profit before! I’ve traveled a lot, but I’ve never attempted to live overseas for the long haul. I’ve never taken a dog on a plane or figured out the logistics of extended visas. I don’t even know how, exactly, I’m going to fund this crazy vision!

As I write, I stop to put my face in my hands and simply laugh. Mind you, at any moment, my laughter could turn to tears and then back to laughter again. Tears, laughter, sleep, tears, laughter, sleep…it’s a fairly constant cycle these days. I’m a little embarrassed to admit how much I suck at all of this. <sigh/chuckle/sigh>. But God is good and I can only hope that He made me this stubborn for a good reason.

Today I cried out to God. And then I spent the majority of the rest of the day generally weeping or recovering from it. My tears came partly in grief, partly in feeling utterly alone, partly in a state of total overwhelm.

I’m moving to one of the most corrupt places in the world and, the closer I get to my leave-taking, the more I feel as tho I’m walking straight into the belly of the beast. Mind you, my eyes are wide open. I can’t even feign surprise.

“In my anguish I cried to the Lord, and he answered by setting me free.” ~Psalm 118:5

Needless to say, I’m beginning to feel that I might have been crying for nothing. God’s got this. He’s handling it. He’s opened a door for me that no man can close. (Rev. 3:8) Even now, as I write, He is showering me in a path of verses that have a powerful effect in leading the way.

Before I gave my life to God, the bible didn’t do much for me except make me feel annoyed and argumentative. But things have changed. I’ve changed. The closer I get to the reality of moving, the more turbulent and unsettled I become. You know the old adage: change = stress. Yeah, it’s feeling pretty dang true.

I love change.
I’m hungry for adventure.
I’m in deep need of new challenges.

AND YET…oh, dear Lord, HOLD ME.

I want nothing more right now than for someone to hold me close and tell me that everything is going to be ok. Not only that, I want them to show me what I need to do. Then I want them to hold my hand and help me do it! Am I asking too much??!!

Nothing could have prepared me for so many unknowns all at once. It seems that every move I make, I’m confronted by yet another layer of challenge..and they are starting to pile up. So far, I’ve managed to find myself at the foot of a mountain that only God will be able to move. No one said Africa would be easy. In my old life, I’m pretty sure I would have questioned my sanity in choosing to paddle so hard upstream.

But this isn’t my old life. It’s my new life.

And God sees. He hears.
He really does.

Amen.

Trust.

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Jessie Marianiello. Artist. Photographer. Writer. Philanthropist. Adventurer. Lover of life and animals and God.

I had a hard day yesterday. Or, at least, it started out that way. I missed Carl. The tears were too close to the surface. I also felt very surrounded by those who love me on the other side. My grandpas and great-grandmas, Clara and Leonard (my adopted grandparents), my aunt Iffa, and other angels too…some that I don’t even know who they are, but my whole life, since I was a little girl, I have felt this celestial love and protection with me, surrounding me, looking over me.

Yesterday, while looking through photos from my childhood, I felt them especially near. And I needed them. Things are getting so much better, easier…and yet, even in the midst of such goodness, there is sometimes an ache in my heart for Carl that is deeper than all the world’s oceans. On my way to pick up a bunch of old suitcases to use as props for a photoshoot I was doing that evening with my dogs to help raise funds for my upcoming trip to Africa, I got out of my car and was met by this message written on the sidewalk in chalk. The message led straight to the second-hand store I was going into.

“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” ~Isaiah 41:10

I felt my heart relax back into the hands of God. A weight lifted. The threat of tears evaporated in the sunshine. It might as well have been arrows drawn on the sidewalk with words saying, “Yes, this way. You’re going the right way. Keep going. I’m with you!”

Really, yesterday was good in a lot of ways. Carl’s sister, Leah, shared a photograph of the Ugandan landscape with me that completely lit me up. That evening, Carl’s niece, Lauren, and I did a photoshoot and ended up playing with light in ways that stretched our minds and probably our hearts, too. Before going to sleep, I received midnight prayers and encouragement from a friend. I fell asleep with a mantra of gratitude, thank you God, thank you God, thank you God. My heart was peaceful.

This morning, as my conversation with God continues, I find myself wishing for lots of answers. I’m inspired. Everything is changing and so I find myself asking God, “Who am I? Who do you want me to be for You? God, where am I watering myself down? What do You want me to let go of?” I want to make more of my life about working in Africa. But there are logistics to consider, ya know? I guess I am feeling like, if I knew where my income would come from, I could build the rest around it. Then again, I also know that God knows better than I do. While I’m sitting here wishing for God to give me insights and answers to all the unknowns, it’s quite possible that He is waiting for my heart to find its way first. There is graciousness in this.

As much as I want all the logistics figured out and guaranteed, yes…it makes sense for my heart to find its way first. There is more meaningfulness in this approach. It’s my own worried mind that wants to run ahead. There is a part of all of this that feels so reckless. I want to be smart or wise or clever or all of those things so that I don’t fall flat on my face. But the truth is that Abba is asking for my complete trust. There are no shortcuts.

There are gifts in the time it takes to struggle with something. 

I’ve asked God to use me. And now He is. I gave all of me. And now He is using all of me. I’d regret my decision to throw my life at God, offering myself up to the trenches, but then He leaves me sweet messages written on the sidewalk in chalk. He leads me to the sunshine with my camera. He fills my life with people and love and encouragement. He provides, continuously. In all ways, He has been providing everything plus some, every step of the way. I don’t have to have it all figured out yet. God isn’t going half-way with me, that much I know. Do I get scared about that? Yes. My heart is tender. I’m afraid of more heartbreak and yet I’m feeling led to one of the most heartbreaking places in the world. I don’t know what will happen. I don’t know who I’ll be. I don’t know what my world will look like. I don’t know anything, really. But I know that I want to live without holding back. I know that I want to inspire someone else to live their own version of that too. I know I’m here for reason and, most of all, I know I have God.

Abba, please hold us close. Continue to remind us how close you are in every way, every day. Fill us with courage to accomplish the impossible. As we attempt to step into our TRUE path, let us hold nothing back. Prepare us, protect us, fill us with faith, unshakable.

I love you, dear Abba. Bring out the best in me. I’m yours.