Greece

Greece changed me. It's quite simple.

Reading The Shack changed my view of God. That's not so simple.

Traveling alone to a foreign country with nothing familiar to guide you is both exciting and terrifying in varying degrees. Once I sat myself down in the Apollo Hotel at midnight in Athens, I realized the gravity of the journey I had started.

5 days may not seem like a long time when calculated in hours, but when calculated by the soul, it's months, even years.

God was my only friend. He was my only compass. He was my only dinner companion. He slept on the chair next to my bed as I went from hotel to hotel throughout Greece. He was there when I was surrounded by lovers in embrace. He was there when I ate my gyro in Athens, the only person sitting alone in a sea of people. He was there when I traversed all of Athens history with only a map and a prayer. He was there as a passenger had difficulty breathing on the plane ride home, guiding me to do the right thing.

I fell in love with God again in Greece. He loved me so well, no man or woman will ever compare.

Greece was my playground and He was the concerned, but trusting parent, watching me play.

More than anything, with the help of a trusted friend, I realized that Greece was the culmination and ultimate confirmation of a miracle in my life.

I was the girl who could never sleep at night. I used to wake up for every creak or sound at night. I used to stay up watching my doorway, waiting for some inevitable evil. I tried sleeping with one eye open and when this failed, I just stopped sleeping.

Light was my friend and darkness a formidable foe. I used to wait for my parents to come home from work to take a shower because I couldn't do so when I was home alone. When I lived in East LA, I used to sneak into my roommates rooms, and fall asleep on their floors because I couldn't sleep alone in my room. I used to put a chair against the door, as if this were some form of protection against that inevitable evil that never came.

This was my life. I didn't sleep more than 3 hours per night that year. I only took showers at night. I tried Tylenol PM, wine, Friends episodes, therapy, incessant conversations with friends, prayer and saw no results.

Then God took me to Redlands to live alone. And the noises started again, the fears rose up even more loudly. My eyes grew accustomed to my ceiling and door. I could tell you the number of panels on my door, the number of hinges, the type of screws holding it together. I could tell you about the specific cracks on the ceiling, the number of spider webs, the serial number on the smoke alarm.

And then one day, I said enough is enough and I ran to meet Him. I ran through the voices, the fear, the noises, the haunting of the abuse, the screams of my father, the bruises, the cries of my mother and ran to grasp just the lining of His cloak. And He turned around and said, "Daughter you are healed." And that was it.

And now, I traveled alone to a foreign country with no friend in the next room to call upon, no floor to sneak onto, nothing. The fear is so far removed from me, I don't even remember it that well. And there are days, even today, when I hear sounds, creaks, etc. that used to paralyze me. And for a second, I remember, and then immediately I am free again.

True healing is so formidable. True fruitfulness has no sign of human doing, no human effort.

God is to be glorified in all of this.

So Greece was many things. Many stories. A meeting of beautiful people, a realization of my calling as nurse, examples of God's amazing provision, a finding of family in the most unexpected places, waking in faith, seeing structures that Jesus himself saw, resting in God, sleeping in God.

Thank You does not really sum up the level of gratitude and praise I have for my Savior.

So rather I say this: I give my life to You. What do You want me to do?