Life on the Web, Story #2: Used

So I shared with you a couple of days ago my first story in this mini-series, about being heckled on facebook. It was silly, yes, but gave me chuckles and that's why I thought it was worth sharing.  The next two stories are serious--one beautiful and one dreadful.  I'm going to tell them back to back, because while they did not seem at all connected at the time, now, on this day, I see how clearly they are.

(And I still want to write about the things God showed me this past weekend--but as you will see, there is so much God in these stories too.  He is just not letting me forget Him these days!

The steampunk I was so enjoying sharing with you all. . . while I have several posts started, I don't have the heart at the moment to finish them.  You'll understand when you get through the next couple of posts.)

So here's story #2:

A few weeks back I introduced you all to one of the newest blogs on my sidebar, Creating My Own Little Nirvana.  I don't remember how I found it, but was immediately drawn into the story.  The story on Keri's blog to which I directed you was the one about God answering her prayers in such a specific, undeniable, flesh-and-blood way (Senator John Kerry standing on the steps of a church, no less!) that it was perfectly clear to her and to her readers of faith that the Lord of the universe heard her, was moved with compassion for her, and *hours, even days before the prayer was on her lips set in motion the events that would then, at just the moment of her crying out, show her his unfailing love.*  (Clearly, if you have not read it, you should.)

Anyway, a short time has passed since that post, and Keri's trust in God and His loving provision for her has led her to suddenly leave the United States and move to Siberia, where she and her Russian-adopted daughter Nastia could finally be reunited with Nastia's sister Anya, whom Keri has been trying to adopt for the past 5 years.  This was not a decision Keri made lightly, but out of fear for the health and safety of her daughters.

She must have received a lot of grief from business partners, parents of students she teaches, friends, etc. about this sudden decision, because a few days later she posted a very frustrated, very hurt "open letter" on her blog.  Part of it said this:

. . . But can some of you PLEASE put yourselves in my shoes for one minute? Please! THINK, for a moment:

Would I give up thousands of dollars in salary if it were not imperative I go? Would I risk losing several long-term school jobs that I rely on, if it were not imperative I go? Would I risk my precarious health if it were not the last resort? Or Nastia's schooling? Would I spend thousands of dollars to fly to one of the most remote spots in the world, where I know all of two people, where the weather will worsen my health, where I have no means of making money, where I must struggle on a daily basis to be understood? Would I do this if I did not HAVE to?

NO!!!!!

I do this because I must.

I do this because no one else is going to do it for me!

I do this because I'm trying to save a life.

No offense, but if you are one of those people upset about my going, and upset about my current inability to meet with you and discuss whatever is on your agenda...'concerned' that I can't fulfill my work obligations right now...all I can tell you is, TOO BAD.

And for some reason, even though I was new to her blog and don't normally post comments on the very personal postings of complete strangers, I made a comment.  I wanted to encourage her, even if annonymously, the way you might approach a stranger who appeared to be distraught to see if you could lend some help or offer a kind word.  But when I started to type, words popped into my head:  you are released, you are absolved.  That was what I really wanted to say to her, what seemed right--and yet, it also seemed way too pretentious.  Like, who am I to say such a thing to this stranger, when I don't know her and barely know her story?

So I couched the words, and padded them, but finally did say them. 

And later that day, unexpectedly, I saw a comment from Keri on my blog.  She had figured out how to find me in blogger and came over to say she really appreciated my comment.  Well, that was sweet!  So of course I jumped back over to her post, so I could see what other people had said too and follow the whole conversation.  And was immediately taken aback when I saw what she had posted in response to everyone's words of encouragement: 

These, your comments, have been very healing for me tonight. Thank you. Blessed, your words " you are released, you are absolved" were divinely inspired. I NEEDED to hear that, and wept a lomg while when I read your words. VERY healing.

Reading that, a chill went through me, which I recognized--like seeing the footprints in the sand and knowing someone has walked there before me.  I did not come up with those words--they popped into my head and I hesitated to write them, because they sounded so. . . well, pretentious is really the only word.  I did not know why I was writing them, but Keri knew why she was reading them--because God wanted her to hear them.  And I was His instrument. 
 
That realization made me so giddy, so elated--I literally jumped up and down clapping my hands like a little girl at the unveiling of her birthday cake. 
 
God used me.  
 
And He used me to encourage a woman who I don't know, but whom I sense is a sister in spirit. 

There are times when it feels like the virtual communities we can build on the web are real, tangible, important.  This was one of those times.  I love how God can and does move in all realms of our world, even the virtual one.  I love how He affirmed, once again, that He will use us where we are, as we go about our everyday lives, if we remain open to His prompting.


Stay tuned for Story #3. . .