I often do things to please people. If everybody
is happy with me, then they like me, and who doesn’t want that in life? (To be
liked, I mean) I had gotten myself to a place in life where I didn’t realize
this is what I had become.
“How could not going to church be the right
thing, God? What will people think?” These are the hysterical, insecure
thoughts I was having about a week and a half ago. I confessed these things, at first
with hesitancy and trepidation to my team. My 4 girls walked through part of
this issue with me that morning with complete acceptance. This all went down right
before we had to leave for church, but I sat on the floor (of our small 30 x 20
room me and my team mates call home for the month) “double-pumpin it.” This
means crying so hard that you gasp for air two times in a row and all the
tissue in Nicaragua can’t hold back the flood of snot and tears.
“What the heck is goin? What is wrong with me?”
I thought. In that moment – I knew going to church wouldn’t be wouldn’t be the
answer. God wanted me here, I was onto something.
My team mates left for church, understanding
completeley and encouraging me to get alone with God and be real with Him. They
also advised me to go do something I like to do.
I sat alone on the floor, in a puddle of my tears,
in my small living space. “Okay Lord, Do you want me to read my bible and sit
hear wallowing in my own uncertainty?”I knew this was THE time to let go of
sweet-sugar-coated prayer. I needed to share my rotteness and dirt with God. I usually try to be polite and sweet with God and others. I guess I thought that
was what He wanted, respect and fear and always a level of niceness. I was
wrong…
There was no way I could do what I needed to do
inside my room. Our living courters is next to the kitchen and I didn’t want
anyone to hear what was about to happen. (Besides, I most often connect with God
outside through some kind of adventure). I felt Lake Nicaragua calling my name.
(The biggest Lake in Central America).
SO I grabbed a towel and confidently headed out
for the 2 minute walk. I slipped down the steep hill to the water. I tromped
out into the water. I was expecting to swim out far, to gain privacy.But as I
walked out….I waded and waded, and walked and walked until Cicrin
Orphanage was barely visible. The water was only up to my sholders and I was standing with my feet on the bottom.
the middle of a gi-normous lake and I choose to let God, “plow up the hard parts
of my heart” here. (Hosea 10:12) Suddenly I stood still , looking out at the
endless waves, allowing the refreshing waters to envelop me and I let loose. I
yelled and screamed and cried out the pain and anguish I had, to God. I thought
I had given up all my rights the morning I boarded my flight out of the US. I
thought I had given all I had and sacrificed everything in Mexico last month.
How much more God? How much of me do you want? And of course I already knew the
answer…everything. He wants everything. I cried a fury over this.
give the Lord everything – it should belong to Him anyway, not me. Independance
is an awful thing to try and be. ¨Being my follower is not trying to be like
Jesus, it means for your independence to be killed.¨ (a qoute from The Shack by William P. Young)
But when I thought what this
meant…..this means goodbye to ALL my desires and expectations and REALLY meaning
it. This means allowing the Lord to shed light in all the darkest parts of my
heart that I didnt evwn knew existed. I stood there and after about an hour and the
crying ceased. Silence consumed me – not peace, but silence. I looked at the
waves and ripples of the water that were never ending. The Lord was
saying, “I have more thoughts of you
than there are ripples in this Lake.” So I worshipped the God that loves me as
I am. I sang praises amidst my suffering. It hurts to be stripped of who you
thought you were and it is quite scary.
I left the beach and began journaling my
experiance. What a sight I must have been that day! Drenched in lake water,
red eyes, and sunburned (from standing in the lake for an hour and a half) and
feeling pretty much like a greasy, mushy, wad of messiness. As I journaled on
how ugly I felt, the Lord very clearly said….”Beautiful!”
Are you kidding me? Wait wait, hold the phone.
God, surely you dont mean it? I am not beautiful in this moment. I am still
angry, confused, and a disheveled mess, how is THIS, how am I beautiful ? And
then He flipped a lightbulb on in my head…and “Ah-HA!!!!” The Lord that
created me rather have me in this state of raw, naked, rough, ridiculous, and realness
– than sitting pretty in church with a forced smile on my face, thinking of
ways to please Him and other people. Realness is beautiful to Him, which is
funny because I felt incredibly ugly and exhausted. HE sees beauty in my
“ugliness” because it IS REAL. And Why? Why? This is uncomfortable and
vulnerable with no make-up to hide behind and not enough energy to fake a smile.
Because He is drawing me in closer to where I belong. I realize fully that it
doesn’t make much sense as to why I’m dealing with this thousands of miles away
from home on an island where I am supposed to be ministering to others, but he
is ministering to me…all because he is faithful.
¨Get to the end of yourself where you can do
nothing, but where He does everything.¨ Oswald Chambers
