It’s Karts for Kids Eve, and we’re busily taking care of last-minute details and getting our house ready for an influx of Warrior Girls (and a few very secure dudes), but I had to stop for a minute to blog about what God is teaching me.  If I waited to blog about this after the event, it wouldn’t be a big deal, because I would already know the outcome.  But tonight, on the eve of this enormous, gigantic, really really big leap of faith, I have no idea what tomorrow holds.  God is teaching me about trusting Him.  I thought I understood that.  I mean, on some level, I trust Him everyday.  But for this event, Alex and I have worked and worked and done our part…and now we have to watch God do His.  I’m not gonna lie.  There’s a part of me that wants to give Him a few notes, some helpful suggestions on what would really make this event fly, how He could really impact the lives of these orphans.  Maybe give Him some talking points, go over the agenda with Him, and show Him His role in the evening.  Yeah.  That’s a little backwards. 

Okay, so God, I can plan and plan and make my little lists and accomplish my little checklist, but I can’t control the weather.  I can’t make airplanes take off and land on time.  I can’t make sure everyone comes.  And I can’t force people to respond.  I can’t.  I am finite, and this little finite creature has done all she can do.  And so I trust.  I trust You, because You gave me this passion, this plan, in the first place.  I trust You, because You love orphans more than I do.  I trust You, because I am not enough.  I trust You, because You are worthy of my trust. 

I’ve got butterflies.  I may not sleep tonight.  But my God is a big God, and I cannot WAIT to see what He does tomorrow.

My favorite genre is superheroes.  Is that a genre?  I adore superheroes.  Any movie or book or tv show that has characters with creative costumes and clever powers…I am a sucker for it.  My all-time favorite is Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  Okay, her creative costume typically consisted of tight jeans and a trendy top, but the powers?  Gotta love a high school girl who can stake a vampire while quipping.  Those of you who know me well know that if I start talking about Buffy I careen quickly from mildly intelligent, fairly normal Melanie into episode-quoting psycho-fan, so I won’t start, or this will turn into the Buffy blog and how insanely brilliant Joss Whedon is.  Deep breath, Mel.  Don’t go there.  What was I writing about?  Oh right, superheroes.  I love them.  I love X-Men, Spiderman, Batman, right, who doesn’t, but then I also can watch Aeon Flux and the Chronicles of Riddick over and over.  I love interesting characters who are gifted and use their gifts to help people.  Don’t even get me started on Lord of the Rings, because I will go to a hobbit-loving, ent-hugging place from which there is no elegant return.

I love heroes.  And this week, I’ve realized that my real heroes don’t have capes or tights or gadgets or masks.  They don’t fight evil robots or vampires or Lord Voldemort.  But they do fight bad guys.  They don’t defend the people of Metropolis or Middle Earth or Sunnydale.  But they do defend people.  My heroes are orphan sponsors.  My heroes fight injustice.  They fight poverty.  They sacrifice some of their own needs and wants to invest monthly in the life of a child.  My heroes beat back the darkness in the lives of kids who need them.  They rescue the fatherless from hopelessness.  They don’t wield a sword or a stake.  They wield the power of God.  They heal, they love, they are God’s hands.  My true heroes hug orphans.  Hug them with their letters, hug them with their sponsorship dollars, hug them with their arms.

Superheroes are my favorite.  I’m privileged to know a bunch.  And after next weekend, I’m gonna know a whole lot more.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit” (Romans 15:13). 

This verse has just hit me today.  Hope and joy and peace are totally related to our trust in God.  Yes!  This is so true!  I’m butterflies-in-the-stomach about Karts for Kids next week (Yes – NEXT WEEK!  Eeek!), but my God, the God of hope, really has filled me to the brim with joy and peace.  I trust that this event was His idea and is in His hands, and I am truly overflowing with hope, hope for what He’s going to do, hope for the kids whose lives are about to change, hope for my community to get to be part of God’s plan.  I’m bursting with hope!  And there’s such a peace knowing that the result is completely out of my hands.  I’m not saying I do nothing and sit back and wait for God to handle everything.  I’m working hard, I’m doing everything that I can do, but at the end of the day, at the end of my work, at the end of myself, I can put my trust in the God of hope.  The God of hope! 

In the face of terrible tragedy, my God is the God of hope.  My God is the God of hope in Haiti, where children cry out for parents who will never wake up.  My God is the God of hope in Uganda, where empty bellies rumble and familes are ravaged.  My God is the God of hope in America, where what’s good becomes the enemy of what’s best and we unintentionally become slaves to our belongings.  In utter devastation, the God of hope. 

Tonight I am overflowing with hope, filled with joy and peace, trusting in my God, my God of hope.

I just read MLK, Jr.’s dream speech again.  So overwhelmingly incredible.  Love it.  I have a dream, too, Dr. King.  I have a dream of my kids, black and white, sitting around the dinner table.  I have a dream of my multiracial kids worshipping side by side in church.  Dr. King, thank you for sharing your dream, for voicing so eloquently the potential of our great country.  Thanks for your legacy; thanks for your fight.

The last part of his speech:

“I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; “and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.”

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

And this will be the day — this will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning:

My country ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.

Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim’s pride,

From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.

But not only that:

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.

From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:

                Free at last! Free at last!

                Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

Oh, dear village of Adecar.  Do you know what’s headed your way?  Your people are going to bed hungry.  Your orphans need cloths, food, education, hope.  Your widows need a break, need support.  Our big God hears your prayers.

I imagine a Friday night when the people of Peachtree City pile into their golf carts and race to Adecar’s aid.  I imagine a Saturday night when the people of Canton gather together to make a difference.  From north to south, I imagine Atlantans rising up together to fight back poverty and change a village.

Three hundred and sixty-five orphans.  Three hundred and sixty-five.  3-6-5.  They have nothing.  Nothing.  But soon, that will change.  And by God’s grace, we’re going to change it.  Imagine what a difference we can make in the village of Adecar when Atlantans come forward to sponsor 365 orphans.  When we raise $8,000 and build a kitchen and meeting facility in the heart of Adecar, a place where kids can find food for their bodies and the Word of God for their souls.  Where there was tragedy, there will be dignity.  Where there was devastation, there will be education.  Where there was suffering, there will be rejoicing.

From north to south, Canton to Peachtree City, we get to watch God change a village in one weekend.  We get to be His hands here on earth, to stand in the gap and say, “No more.  I will not let poverty take these children.  I refuse to watch and do nothing.  I cannot save every child, every village, but I can save one.”  Let this be your legacy.  What did I do with my life?  I got to help God save a village.