What can I learn in the stillness? What can I learn in the vagueness of it all? Not ever really knowing what is expected of me and not really seeing the fruits of my labor: What can I learn from it? I guess that’s what I’m still trying to figure out. My fear is leaving Bolivia and wondering what the point was – leaving and feeling like I wasn’t productive. I was simply sick, tired, and annoyed … It feels like a wandering in the desert; but maybe the LORD has me there for a reason. It’s in the desert that we are the most thirsty and the most hungry. Is it a gift, the fact that ministry isn’t fulfilling or seems, frankly, a bit pointless sometimes? Was I maybe expecting the work and the experience to fulfil me more than the LORD? Wow – that’s an ice cold bucket of water. My joy has been dependent on the experience – not the LORD alone.
Entry from my journal, September 19, 2015
So here’s the ugly truth: Bolivia was officially the country I enjoyed the least. When I say that, I literally mean that the overall experience ranked dead last in the running list of countries I’ve been too. It’s hard to admit that, and it’s hard to come to the realization that there was very little that I liked about this month. What can that in itself teach me? What does the LORD want me to learn from that?
So let’s start with a fact. El Alto (where I lived this month) is the highest metropolis in the world. With that comes cold, cold weather, and the difficulty to breathe. My team tried to prepare ourselves as best we could for the altitude sickness, but it wasn’t to be avoided entirely. We also had an array of interesting typical food. Food that I wouldn’t ever normally eat – cow heart, liver, a meat referred to as “False rabbit.” I ended up going back on antibiotics and even needed to get a shot of penicillin. Overall, the recovery process was slow as a snail.
I knew almost immediately that there was spiritual warfare surrounding us. For example, one of the rehab houses we were working with (the girl’s home) had a dark presence there. One could walk in and just feel it. It was very hard to connect with the girls there as one could imagine: I mean, they were there to get free of things like drugs, alcohol, and anything else that held them in bondage. Even though I knew this, it was hard not being able to connect with the girls. Some clearly didn’t want to have anything to do with us.
It was also incredibly hard to sleep that first week, and even in just laying down it was harder to breathe. Our whole team experienced many sleepless and exhausting nights because of this. One of the first nights in El Alto was one I will never forget – specifically because of the pain I was in and feeling so strongly like I was under attack. Aside from feeling like I was gasping for air, I felt a restlessness in me that was very strange. I’m a deep sleeper, and I don’t struggle to fall asleep within seconds and sleep soundly through the night. I started to get a headache as well, but not just a little one – it was growing exponentially. In one of my short stunts of sleep, I had a nightmare: A horrid creature, I supposed a demon, was on my shoulders trying to crush my skull. I woke up and that’s exactly what it felt like. I went to the kitchen somewhere around 3:00 am to drink water and broke down crying for a while. I had never experienced pain like that – and it was absolutely terrifying.
My one small glimmer of joy came from going to the couples’ rehab house, where I had more of a friendship with the two couples that were there during that time. Many afternoons were spent playing UNO or Monopoly. Near the end, Leah and I even played few games of street volleyball; and I didn’t feel like my lungs would completely deflate.
But even in the small moments of joy in spending time with some of these people, there was still a lot of frustration. A lot of the work that we ended up doing in the houses would be classified by any of us as “busy work.” Cleaning out closets and such things as that. One morning in particular, one of the hermanas (sisters) who worked at the couples’ house asked me to help her with one of the indoor plants. Apparently some bugs had gotten to the plant and the leaves were left with a sticky substance and looked ill. Her specific instructions to me were to shampoo the leaves with a sponge.
Yup. Shampoo. the. leaves.
I had to try so hard to not look like that was an absolutely ridiculous idea. I’m a very expressive person and my body language and face will normally give away exactly what I’m thinking. But I smiled and told her I would do it. So that’s what I did that morning. I took a sponge and shampoo and went to clean the leaves. Now let me tell you, I’m positive this did far more harm than good. A third of my leaves fell because they were already so fragile. This poor, pathetic little indoor tree looked like it wasn’t going to last for long anyhow. Putting shampoo on these leaves was going to do nothing. I grumbled and complained in my mind the entire time. This was the epitome of those tasks that had me asking the LORD why He brought me to Bolivia.
I wrestled with the LORD all month. So many factors built up to discourage me. Yes, I was discouraged. As much as I prayed, and sought to choose joy, discouragement often won unfortunately. I would go down to La Paz on free days, and I enjoyed my time there far more than El Alto. I even got to reconnect with an old friend who was an exchange student my junior year of high school. Just seeing a familiar face and being able to talk to Adriana was another moment of joy.
But the ugly truth was I could not wait to get out of Bolivia. I had hit my lowest point at the highest point on earth.
My journal entry above was written during a morning of seeking the LORD and processing everything that had happened that month. I had the very sobering conviction that I had definitely been expecting the “experience” to bring me fulfilment and joy instead of the LORD. And you know what? It wasn’t until I silenced myself and really sought for these answers that I realized that’s what I was doing. It’s extremely easy to fall into this mindset – whether you are on a mission trip or in your day to day life with your job and what not. We look for all these things to bring us meaning and satisfaction – even the good things. I was Month 9 into the World Race and I expected it to be like every other month: A month where the LORD would be evident in the work I was doing. The truth is that I can think back to the harder months of the year before Bolivia, and yet I can still count numerous ways that ministry ended up being beautiful and productive in my eyes.
But as I searched and searched for meaning in my month in Bolivia, I couldn’t find it, and it brought me to a low place. I wasn’t walking away with deep friendships and anything that I did surely did not have a lasting impact. Meg spoke into this one night and asked if maybe that wasn’t what the LORD wanted for me this month. But in my mind, if I wasn’t building relationships or touching lives, what was the point? Isn’t that what the LORD wanted me to do? Isn’t that why I left home to travel to 11 countries in 11 months?
But maybe sometimes we forget why we are doing what we’re doing. Maybe we start to love serving the LORD more than the LORD Himself.
My soul was quieted so much this month, and it forced me to reflect. I could not stand my ministry and my lack of relationship-building went against everything I am. But I also can’t remember having had so much sweet revelation from the LORD and the need to depend on Him day in and day out to get me through my month. And the thing is that that should be my every day no matter what. Despite it all, I’m thankful for the desert place and for the revelations that have pushed me to go deeper.
So do I have the answers I wanted about my month? No. Maybe I never will, but I’m learning to make peace with it and move forward. I found a beautiful quote this month that definitely summed up the growing pains I’ve been going through:
“Be kind to yourself while blooming. I know sometimes it feels like your soul doesn’t always fit. It’s all a part of the process.” – Emery Allen
I, we, are aways a work in process. I wasn’t always going to be on this high of traveling and serving and seeing all these new places. And that’s okay. Every valley is just leading to higher ground.
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Update: We are finally safe and sound in Santiago, Chile. My goodness is Chile a gorgeous country. Our 24 hour bus ride was exhausting, but the view along the coast was worth it. Also, my team is Unsung Heroes this month – meaning that we are on the hunt for ministries for Adventures in Missions to partner with in the future. Thank you for all your prayers!
