Delight

When I was four years old, my family joined my father and his youth group on a mission trip to my grandparent’s church in Germany. Most of the trip is a blur of dragging my feet through museums and outrage at discovering that not every international restaurant serves chicken strips, but one moment from that trip is vividly woven into my memory.

Workin' it in Germany

We went to Interlaken, Switzerland for a week or so. One day we roamed through a little town, probably souvenir shopping. I wandered up and down the cobblestone street with my dad, peeking into shops, mostly just feeling bored. Suddenly we came upon a shop with a display that actually caught my eye. It wasn't a rack of tacky t-shirts or tower of shot glasses. It was a shelf that held items most familiar and appealing: Barbie dolls. But these were no ordinary Barbies. They were dressed as traditional Alpine maids, complete with full skirt and bonnet. My breath caught in my throat. I just had to have one. There was only one problem: I just couldn't ask.

Sometime in my earlier childhood, my mother read my sister and me a little book entitled The Berenstain Bears Get the Gimmies. Ever since then, I feared asking for any gifts lest I be labeled as infected with the dreaded gimmies. I imagined my parents' horror at any frivolous requests, so I kept quiet and banked on their telepathic abilities to fulfil my desires.

I can still feel that nervous twisting in the pit of my stomach as I stared at that Swiss Barbie. Finally overcome by that beautiful doll, I mustered every ounce of courage I had. I walked over to my daddy and took him by the hand. I led him over to the treasure. I used my softest, timid-est voice to tell him about what I'd found. 

I don’t recall ever asking him to buy me the doll. In fact, I don’t think I even did. Here’s what I do remember: I remember my little hand all covered up by his. I remember him handing me the doll and feeling like I just couldn't believe it was mine. I remember running out to show Mamma, “Look what Daddy bought me!” I remember I simply could not believe he could be so gracious. Most of all I remember how he looked, his eyes smiling from the inside out. He was so proud, so happy to have given me that gift. He simply beamed with delight. 

In Switzerland

I'm not sure if that trip sparked my desire, but I don't ever remember a time that I didn't want to grow up and go see the world. When I was young, I heard about a program that we Baptists support called Journeyman in which you spend two years after college serving on the overseas mission field, and I remember telling my mamma, "I think I want to do that when I grow up." I just knew I needed to go.

When I graduated college, I applied for Journeyman and several months later was invited to attend their expo at which I would undergo more interviews and submit my choices of where I would like to serve. Last month I went to that expo. It was a wonderful and completely overwhelming experience. I didn't feel worthy of the opportunity. This was something I had wanted to do since I was a little girl, but how could it be that it was really happening? Why should I get to do this thing I've always wanted? Why would God be so gracious?

Sometimes when I walk alone, I picture God next to me, just holding my hand as I talk to Him. I was doing that as I headed to the cafeteria for dinner on the last day of the expo. I thought about everything that had gone on that week, how I still just couldn't believe that this experience could be real, and all of a sudden, I was in Switzerland circa 1997. I was walking with my Daddy, my little hand all covered up by His, and He was beaming down at me, just bursting with joy to give me this gift.

You see, God delights in us. We so often talk about how He loves us and wants good for us, but don't forget about His delight. We are His children, and we are a joy to Him. He loves to give us the desires of our hearts. Please don't think for a minute that I'm saying that God just wants us to be happy, because He wants so much more than that. Our purpose on this earth is not our happiness; it's His glory. But when He can align our desires with His plan, man, that's just the best. 

And now, the rest of the story (cue Paul Harvey voice).

I went to the Journeyman expo hoping to find a job in the UK, but found that wasn't really an option. I picked my top three and returned home with a promise to hear about my final acceptance and placement in a few weeks. The weeks passed, and I did get a phone call, but it wasn't exactly the news I wanted to hear. None of my choices had worked out, and I wasn't going to be placed in any of them. However, there was a chance of another option, a job in London, but that plan wasn't solidified, and I'd have to wait several more weeks to find out if it was even a certain option.

I don't know that I've ever wanted something that badly. I seriously felt sick at the prospect of not getting to do Journeyman. I prayed and prayed and prayed that God would give me this gift, as long as it was in His best plan. After weeks of praying, I got a phone call. My heart was pounding as I listened to the voice on the other end tell me that a decision had been reached. Then he told me the news I so desperately wanted to hear. The job had gone through, I was invited to London.

Even after I hung up the phone, I still couldn't believe it. God didn't just give me my desire for Journeyman, He gave me my dream location. Why should He do that? Why should He go beyond what I even thought possible to bless me? How could He be so gracious? How could He be so good? I talked to my mamma after I found out, and she told me what I already knew. She said, "Moriah, you probably won't understand this until later in life, but parents delight in giving their children what they want." What a wildly beautiful love. 

See you in London!