Lessons
Learned-Part 1
Standing up against the F
words-fear, fail, fall.
I wrote a blog in the Philippines detailing two spills
I took that month. I, in fact, managed to fall in at least the first five
countries we visited, usually one or two times. In New Zealand, I slipped and hurt
my knee and scraped my hand. In Australia, I probably slipped in mud or something.
In the Philippines,
I fell down the stairs and a few days later, dropped David’s laundry in the
dirt as I tripped over my own two feet and took a 360 tumble in the dirt. In Cambodia,
I fell down the side of the road, scraping my knees and hands, and then not
having clean water to wash out the wounds. I also fell down the hill at Angkor
Wat (this was about 12 hours before I threw up on it…twice…). In Thailand,
we were climbing around a waterfall and I slipped and bumped my bum.
I don’t remember any particularly spectacular
falls in Africa.
I am sure there were trips and stumbles, but I generally learned to pray, “Father, keep my path straight. Ready my feeble
knees, strengthen my weak arms, and level the path before me.� (I paraphrased Hebrews 12:12 in my head) This
seemed to work, even as we walked up and down slippery, muddy hills in Uganda.
In Romania, I managed to stay upright, for the
most part, I believe. Again, nothing particularly stands out as painful or
pride-damaging. Maybe I had learned what I needed to about falling-that it is
okay and the important part is getting up again.
In Budapest, after walking up a hill and hiking
down one (yes, you read that correctly-the walk up was much easier than the
hike down), I fell down as we were approaching the concrete road. Literally,
two steps later and I would have been on solid ground.
But you know me, I love to make an entrance
(and an exit, I suppose), and I tumbled down the last few steps and skidded to
a stop on the sidewalk. It was awkward, and hurt a bit, but this time, there
were no tears. My pride wasn’t really hurt.
Falling
and getting back up again felt a lot more natural than it did 7 months ago.
I realized that for the first part of the race, I was 5 for 5 for
falling in each country. But as I learned to lean more
and more on God, and to pick myself up
again, to take life’s blows and spills
and tumbles and rolls as part of everyday life, the falls stopped and I
learned to walk gracefully-and walk in grace. To accept that falls and failures
are part of this walk, and to be okay with that. To not be afraid of failing or
be afraid to fall, but instead to simply pick myself up, again and again, and
when I was too weak, to rely on whoever God had put in my path, whether it was Dexter
in the Philippines or Megan in Budapest, to
pick me up and set me straight again, to smile through the tears and the
quickly-fleeting pain, and keep WALKING.
This year has been a marathon—and
I was not very fit when I started. But God doesn’t always call the trained-he
trains the called. My on the job training as a missionary and as a Christian
has been rough-and long-and exhausting. There have been failures
and falls,
there has been joy
and pain,
there have been moments of knowing
this is exactly where I needed to be and
moments where I wanted to be anywhere
but here.
But one of the things I have learned is perseverance. And I could not have
learned this if I had stayed at home—too afraid to meet God in this messed up
world, to fall down even when there wasn’t proper medical care, to try even if
failure seemed imminent.
A comment left on my blog by a dear supporter
from my church back home said, “Sometimes
perseverance is a four letter word.�
It’s true. But that is what I have learned this
year. Well, one of many things. But perseverance. I have always been a
quitter-and if I didn’t quit because I wasn’t the best or perfect or had to
work hard at something-then I just skated by, doing the best I needed to do to
get the grade or pass the class, instead of trying my hardest to succeed.
Some days it is still hard to try my hardest. I
am certainly not perfect. But I have learned this year that I can DO it. I can
push through my crap and the hard stuff. I said many times this year that I
hate the hard stuff. And part of me still does. But pushing through this year
of hard stuff, and learning to have perseverance, has been a huge blessing.
One of my good friends, Kerry, told me in the
Philippines when I was struggling that what I needed now was perseverance. To
simply persevere, even when things were hard and all I wanted to do was quit.
I am glad of how God worked out my graduation in
Thailand as a time of supernatural redemption, and how He used what the enemy
tried to pervert as hurt and shame and disappointment into a marvelous example
of His redemption and His love and His grace and His ultimate purposes being
worked for the good of me, who loves Him.
I am glad my team didn’t let me quit in Kenya,
when I cried on and off for three days straight about being homesick and tired
of the race. I am thankful they spoke life into me and encouraged me and helped
me laugh through the tears.
I am glad Nicole didn’t let me quit in Tanzania
when frustrations were high and patience was wearing thin.
I am glad God did an amazing change of heart in
Leyna and she was a voice of positivity, encouragement and perseverance in
Uganda, helping me make it through until we got to Ireland.
I am so thankful to have learned this lesson of
perseverance. To be living out Hebrews 12-running this race with patience and
endurance, being perseverant, even when all I wanted to do is give up.
I am glad I didn’t give up…
Strip down, start running—and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no
parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race
we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was
headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything
along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of
honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go
over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed
through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!
In this all-out
match against sin, others have suffered far worse than you, to say nothing of
what Jesus went through—all that bloodshed! So don’t feel sorry for yourselves.
Or have you forgotten how good parents treat children, and that God regards you
as his children?
…
God is educating you; that’s why you must NEVER DROP OUT. He’s
treating you as dear children. This trouble you’re in isn’t punishment; it’s
training, the normal experience of children…why not embrace God’s training so
we can truly live?…At the time, discipline isn’t much fun. It always feels
like it’s going against the grain. Later, of course, it pays off handsomely,
for it’s the well-trained who find themselves mature in their relationship with
God.
So don’t sit around on your hands. No more dragging your feet! Clear
the path for long-distance runners so no one will trip and fall, so no one will
step in a hole and sprain an ankle. Help each other out. And run for it!
(Hebrews 12 excerpts from the Message)
