Ireland, as I mentioned in a previous blog, was a difficult month. It was also a beautiful month of ministry, life in Coleraine and church. But it was difficult. I do not know if I fully understand everything I learned… nor if I ever will. But today is as good as any to try and explain it.
The entire month of Ireland, I felt as though I were moving. Moving somewhere with future unknown, simply packing up and leaving. With many loose ends dangling free all month. In that time they were hanging free like the annoying preposition at the end of sentences, begging for a following subject.
Now I am beginning to see that they hung free for me to choose the way to move. They hung free so that I could choose to seek God. They hung free to allow God the ability to move in my life.
The first half of the month, I walked in the role I had created for myself. In my mind, it was familiar. And known. God was packing it up into boxes around me. Carefully separating out the clutter that could be thrown away. Moving things to storage that I will need later in this messy, messy life. Some things He knew I would try to sort through on my own. I would try to keep them with me, holding onto them for too long.
It is a struggle to toss things aside. Things that I have grown up with and with which I am too comfortable.
It seems as though, at times, Papa was sitting next to me on the floor, helping me pile all of my junk into a backpack, just as a loving parent does when their young daughter is trying to run away down the street. “Don’t forget to take your toothbrush and your need for approval. And you would probably get cold without taking your fear of failure and jacket.”
He spoke over me, knowing that I would return back to Him, willing to trust more and wanting to move past the weight of my baggage.
Mid month, stuff was packed up. I was out of the home I grew up in, but still trying to figure if I had forgotten anything. I tried to search box labels and find the things that had accidentally been packed away. I thought I might still need some of it before I reached my new home.
But through some marvelous conversations and hard questions, God helped me to realize that I had created a pattern for others in my mind. And that I oriented my path and actions based upon how others were moving. I saw how others would not do something, so I would do it and/or judge in the process. I perceived others’ failures to be a result of my own failure. I was taking burdens that were never mine and were never meant to be shared.
I forgot to get rest. Or even how to. So I stopped searching through boxes, simply desiring time to sit and search for Him.
The end of the month transformed into the gap period of time between resting places. The hard work at the front end of the move is done. Everything is packed up. If you forgot something, you have to deal with it and move on. And in the time between homes you try to squeeze in a few days of relaxation somewhere. Maybe the mountains or the beach.
This was my last week in Coleraine… except practically speaking, the last week in Coleraine was a blur of activity as we literally packed up our belongings, cleaned house and moved to India. But my heart was attempting to rest. My mind was wanting to avoid the analytical patterns to which it is so accustomed.
I found myself in a strange place, waking up, trying to remember where I was, as it so often is when you are away from home. I was learning to accept others actions and decisions as solely theirs. I gave grace and rested.
But the month was not yet over. My heart was heavy from a month of leaving and anticipating the new space into which I was walking. I had two conversations that left me questioning so much about myself. And about what God was doing in me.
I took the words well and was grateful for the discussion. But it was the message behind the conversations that I took as against me. Digging into manifest copy of my belongings being shipped and stored, I just knew I could add this to the list of failures through which I was still trying to sort. I added wounded and unapproachable to my carry-ons of leadership, fear for future months, and ‘what the heck is incredible life I get to live’ .
A brave face boarded the plane to India, a month that had already filled me with trepidation. There was no time to sit and externally process with my journal and a steaming cup of coffee. The rushing of the squad around me to transition into month four left me conveniently hiding the truth of my heavy heart behind the logistics and craziness of getting team Doulos to our host home for the month.
It took two days off from ministry and a few good conversations with safe places and a needed heart exchange with Papa that I began to truly unpack all of my crap in this new space. We sorted some more stuff into piles of things to keep and things to toss away. Already, this new space is bigger than the place before.
Room to continue to growing, I suppose.
I am still in need of $4,000 to be fully funded.
And my friend Guille needs help now to stay on the field — guillerodriguez.theworldrace.org
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