The Island Called Freedom

...or better known as Eleuthera, is a small island just east of Nassau in the Bahamas. 110 miles long and as little as less than 1 mile wide. For a short time I called this island my home, and boy what an adventure it was

It all started on a Sunday. 4 am came a little too early, but somehow I was alive and well. As the day wore on and we were on our final flight to the island, 4 am caught up with me. We arrived in a small school bus at a camp just down the road from the airport. The staff, both chacowearing and smiling, were my first human interactions after emerging from the depths of level 3 sleep. I could tell that we were gonna be friends. It was hot and the bugs had already begun to swarm. There was no escape until the faithful air conditioner came to life at 9:30. I grew to love that time of the day, and still now smile every time 9:30 pm rolls around thinking of the cool air that washed over me.
Monday morning started early, but I was ready for work. As the day wore on, I thought, "what have a gotten myself into." It would seem that I got myself on a blazing hot roof with a breeze just about as nice as 9:30 pm. The work was anything but ordinary. We walked to the dock, a mere 1 hundred feet away, for lunch. and yes, a nap was caught in that time. At the end of the day, I was thanking God for simple things like cold cokes and shorts. I ran into the water at the beach like I had just swallowed a hot chili pepper. This, friends, was my first taste of freedom. Tuesday began with a little bit of insanity. and I don't mean crazy insanity. I mean workout insanity. but in retrospect, it was pretty crazy too. There was much work and much hardship. but much more so, joy.



We were half way through our week. Presupposed to be the hardest day, I found wednesday to be the most beautiful day of all. There was a God-conducted breeze throughout the entire day and a beach that could've been on a post card called my name for a 2 hour lunch break. This is what I wrote in my journal later that day:

And it turns out that I have fallen in love with a country and it's people on a Wednesday afternoon. With the way the sun stretches over the billowing clouds, how the waves go on in every direction, and how there is a slight breeze even on the toughest days. I have fallen in love with the way people say hello as you walk into a store and how honks are a sign of friendship instead of criticism. So today, a Wednesday, on the whispering bus ride, I look out at the land and think, "I love this place." And in truth I have said that so many times that now I feel as though I am sprinkled across the continents in such a way that my heart strings are pulled with the simplest of reminders. But that's okay. In fact it's good. Because it means I have given all of myself in every aspect to the people and places I have traveled to

 With Wednesday came beauty and, after the revival, a huge sense of blessed freedom in the one whom my heart belongs. I began to have the sinking feeling that the week was ending too quickly, as it always does.
The week continued on with obstacles and victories spilling over every single day. New mercies, and new graces filled my soul. On friday, I was staring out at the water on either side of the "narrowest land mass on earth" and I thought, "this is how I wish for My God and I to be. I want to be this close to him. I want to be able to run to heaven and earth just as fast as I can run coast to coast on that bridge." and in the stillness of the air he whispered, "you can, daughter." On our last night, We worshipped the creator on rocks over a fire looking out at the ocean. It was the most beautiful scene that I've ever come across. Brenda spoke on So now what? and I believe with everything in me that God calls us to these missions to teach us and to speak to us. He wants to say, "this is how you should be every day of your life." He is calling us out of the ordinary. He is calling us to expect the unexpected. He is calling out for us to walk into freedom, friends.

When we boarded the plane, I had found that the chacowearing staff had surely become my friends and that I had learned the names of the people we got our water from and that the most heavenly treat could be as simple as 9:30 pm. I had found that I was going to miss this little island, the island called freedom, because I had found hope, redemption, and such love in Jesus through my time here.

So here's to mission trips, to hard work and much heaven, and to the island called freedom, may he too set you free.