The Spotty Communicator

God always seems to humble me through a consistent failure to communicate with my family. In my relationships with my friends, I feel like I do a pretty decent job expressing my heart and passions, the things God is teaching me (feel free to call me out on that if I'm completely oblivious). For some reason I don't do that with my family. I share with them frequently and eagerly the updates and news of my weeks, but I often operate under the false assumption that if I try to communicate any heart issues with them they won't understand. My parents do not see eye-to-eye with me about missions, but why do I think my God isn't big enough to change that?

On Sunday, before I left Jacksonville, my grandmother handed me a check. She had told me earlier in the week that she intended to give me money, and I asked her if I could use it for T*bet. She initially agreed, but when she handed me the check, she said she didn't want me to use the money for my trip because my parents had said they didn't think I should go. I was crushed. I knew my parents had said they didn't think it was a good idea, but I thought they would stand behind me once I had decided. I told my mother what my grandmother had said, and she didn't really say anything. I had also brought my family's support letters with me, intending to hand them out. After that, I chose to only give one to my sister and my parents. When I handed it to my dad, all I said was, "Here's the support letter I'm sending out. I just thought you might want to read it." My dad called me yesterday morning, after my mom told him what my grandmother said, to tell me that she was out of line with that statement and that they will support me in every decision.

Just a few minutes ago, my grandmother called saying she read my letter and had changed her mind. She said she called my mom this morning, and they talked about my letter, both agreeing that I needed to go to see if this is where God is calling me to live. I started crying on the phone. She said, "We just didn't understand; we didn't know why you were going." The support letter I wrote to my grandparents is in my purse. I just found it. I have no idea what letter my grandmother read because I didn't leave one there!

Praise the Lord for how he acts and for the family he has blessed me with!

*sorry for such a long post. i guess that's what happens when you don't post for a month...i really wanted to share this with you.