Sherry Hubright, Nicole Fitzgerald, and Michelle Goff[/caption]
~written by Nicole Fitzgerald, missionary to Honduras (pictured middle)
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the father of compassion and THE GOD OF ALL COMFORT WHO COMFORTS US IN ALL OUR TROUBLES, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. And our hope is firm because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.
2 Corinthians 1:3-7 NIV (emphasis, my own)
The past year is one I would like to forget, but likely never will. From January – December, my life was inundated with one horrific event after another. The distress of living in the world of the dark one never seemed to cease. At times, even the basic task of breathing seemed too difficult to accomplish. I was fighting a war, one of good and evil, and much of the year, I felt like I was losing.
Let me give you a little background, since after such depressing statements above, you are curious what could have been so miserable in my life. Almost 9 years ago, my husband and I decided to move to Honduras to serve in full time ministry, and we arrived here about 3.5 years ago. We had many obstacles in our way before we arrived, but God kept a burning passion, a drive like no other to keep pushing through each struggle until we finally arrived in Honduras. Our team members were my parents that arrived a few years before us. To have your team members be some of the people you trust most in the world and with whom you know you generally work well, seems ideal for many missionaries.
Working with loved ones seems great until it becomes blaringly obvious that there is a major problem. When the person that had taught me so much about faith, God, and life failed me, failed my family, failed my God, I was completely devastated and heartbroken. My dad, my spiritual hero, was having an affair or several. At the time when this came out and he seemed to repent of his actions, I tried to receive him with open arms of grace. However, when it became clear that he truly had no desire to change his ways, I felt my already broken heart shatter more.
As the months followed, a very public scandal erupted – at least public in my world considering that everyone I know also knows and admired my dad. We began to uncover many more lies and sins that he had covered up. With each new discovery, my soul felt a little more crushed. My husband and I didn’t know how we could continue in our work in Honduras. We were living with a shadow over us; the ministry had a smeared name. Hondurans continued to speak of what a great man my dad was, although, they too knew of his actions, yet they continued to worship him as the Israelites worshiped their corrupt kings. LIFE AS I KNEW IT FELT IMPOSSIBLE TO CONTINUE.
Among dealing with my own dad, my spiritual hero, turning his back on the God I love so much, I was also grieving the death of a young girl that my parents took in after her own parents had died of AIDS. I was burdened with the sadness of three teenagers that I had poured three years of my life and prayers into each decided to leave the children’s home where I had worked since my arrival in Honduras. Each of these three believed the rules they had to live by were too harsh, so they walked away from a life of love and stability in order to live in a way which they deemed to be better, with no rules.
ALL HOPE SEEMED LOST. I didn’t think I could continue on in this work in Honduras. I didn’t think I wanted to do so either. I was ready to walk away from a work in which I had literally invested my entire adult life. I even quit my job. I sent my church and my elders a very heartfelt letter stating that we felt we could not continue in this ministry and that we were leaving in December 2014.
After I sent the leaders of my church the hardest letter that I have ever written, God’s Spirit began to work in my heart, in my life. I know that the Spirit has always been at work in my life, but this was very tangible. Four people that I know from four different parts of my life spoke to me the exact same, life giving words to me. They don’t know each other. One of them barely knew me. But God used these words to encourage me in a way none of these people would ever know.
Even though, in many ways, my life was crumbled and in ruins, even though turmoil continued to happen daily in my personal life, I began to encounter daily the power of God’s redemptive, restorative love. No, my dad has not repented of his ways and come back to God. However, God reached down and redeemed my spirit me when I felt all hope was lost. He put great support around me, people who would sit and cry with me, knowing that no words could change the devastating situation in which I was living, people who simply prayed that I would have the courage to face another day. When our summer mission teams began, we didn’t think we could make it through the season. That is when God began to work in other ways. He opened our eyes like it was our first time to visit this country that we love so much. He restored the burning passion that we encountered when we first decided to move down to this country. He restored the desire to continue this work when it made more since to leave and never look back.
I sit here, almost a year after my life began to crumble around me, and can say that I am still disappointed in the actions of the man I admired so much. Over the weekend, I heard the news that he is “married” to a girl that is two or three years younger than me, and I am still sad that he has turned his back on God. But the story is not over. Satan tried to ruin my entire family by the actions of another, but he didn’t. And as the father of the prodigal son waited for a long time for the return of his wayward son, I will pray daily and wait for the return of my dad.
The verse I quoted at the beginning literally fell into my lap after my oldest brother died. It was a great help during that time and during the hard days my other brother was in drug rehab. Now it is not only a comfort, but an encouragement to know that God will use all of the sufferings I have encountered to be a source of comfort to others. I’ve faced a good deal of heartache, and at 28, I’m sure I will encounter much more before the Lord brings me home, but my prayer is that God will use every second of pain and heartache to speak comfort and peace into the lives of others.