Ireland was supposed to be the easy month; the month where
we get used to living with each other, and figure out how to live outside of a
tent and backpack. I thought it would be smooth sailing until we hit the
orphans in Romania. I was very wrong.
Maybe Ireland will be the easiest month, but it sure hasn’t
been easy for me. I have loved the ministry, the city, the church, our contact,
my team, tent life. Sure, the weather is alittle rough at times, but it makes
for good stories later. So what’s going on? Why has it been so hard?
beds and starbucks” but I miss the person I was back home. Before leaving, I
thoroughly enjoyed life. Yeah, I had the random spout of vertigo, but giving up
gluten made it go away almost completely. I had just opened up my own business
and it was actually doing pretty well. I was living in a community of people
that loved and accepted and challenged me. I had numerous friends that I could
call to talk about anything with. I was confident. I was funny. I was fun to be
around, and loved meeting new people because I thought they would like to meet
me. That sounds… different than I want it to. Point is- I actually liked
myself, and felt accepted. My heart burned for my city- Austin, Tx, and we used
to pray for revival regularly and received many promises that revival was
coming soon. I thought I was in a good place.
want to go? Did I want to leave this place that I love so much? Not even
because of the comfortability, and the friendships, but because I had seen many
things that God had started, and I wanted to be apart of their completion. Before
I left, God told me that He was going to give me Austin. I’m not really sure
what all of that means, but it sure excited me. As the weeks grew closer, I
grew even more uncertain about the race. I didn’t want to go, but I still felt
like I was supposed to. I went back and forth daily. A friend told me that it
was like a wedding- I was leaving one way of living for another one. “Well, if
that’s the case,” I told him, “then I’m getting cold feet.”
Before I knew it, I was on a plane headed to New York,
fighting back tears. When I reached New York, everyone was so excited. I felt
sick. (perhaps the not sleeping for 72 hours had something to do with it). When
we arrived in Dublin and got to see each other again, I forced a smile all day,
but wept the second I was alone in my tent.
I used the word homesickness, but I don’t think it quite
describes the way I’ve been feeling. I have no idea who I am here. With 43
people all camping together, I don’t know where I fit in. Insecurites and
doubts have plagued me daily, as well as the deep desire to go back to the
community that understands me more than anyone on the planet. The whole point
of this trek around the world is to experience God in a greater way, and I feel
like I’m still pretty distant. I thought that it would get easier each day, and
in some ways it has, but other ways, it’s gotten harder.
During worship, my friend Dan came up to me and said, “I
feel like there’s something holding you back that you need to let go of. It’s
holding you back from really jumping in here.” I contemplated this, and prayed
about it while worshipping, and I felt like God told me to give up Austin.
Tears well in my eyes as I type this. I said “No. I couldn’t. You promised it
to me. No. I won’t. ” Oh… God. I started weeping. “Do you know how much it
hurts here?” Faces, places, promises rushed through my head, my heart breaking
at each picture. “Maybe I’m not supposed to be here, and that’s why it hurt so
much.” Deep down, I have had this thought that the reason I’m having such a
hard time here, is because I’m not supposed to be here. People said some things
a few months ago that raised doubt, yes, God did confirm the race, but… still….
I’m ruled by my emotion, and when I’m not feeling something, it’s hard to
believe in it. “I just want to go back to the place that I love, the people
that I love, and love it all back. Is that so bad, God?”
As I’m crying in the back,
wrestling with the question, “am I really supposed to be here?”; my friend Hope
comes up and begins to pray for me. “God, I thank you for bringing Anna here… I
thank you for the blessing that she is to this team… for the wisdom that she
has and how you have used her…. I ask that you would help her to find a way to
connect with the people here, because we need her to… I ask that you would help
her, as she’s missing her community back home, to find a way to coexist with
both communities….” She prayed a lot of great other things to. I couldn’t
believe it. How did she know to pray for everything that I needed her to pray
for? God is so cheeky sometimes.
about some things I was wrestling with earlier. You see, sometimes actions
follow feelings, but other times, feelings follow actions. Even though I may
not feel a certain way, this doesn’t mean that I have an excuse to give it up.
It’s like the whole trust thing that I wrestled with last semester with
vertigo- trust isn’t an emotion, it’s a choice. It’s a journey. You continue to
walk in it, fixing your eyes on Jesus, and you’ll reach it eventually
.
I told God things that He already
knew. He told me that I didn’t choose this race. He did. I didn’t even really
want to leave in August, but He’s worth it. I want to love Him more than life itself. I want
to love Him more than friends, family, frozen bananas, whatever it is- I want Him more. Oh, it hurts, but I’m
sure the cross hurt more.
