When Frodo and the Fellowship travel through the mines of Moria, the chapter of that journey is titled “Journey in the Dark“. That’s the chapter I feel like I’m in right now, this month. There have been several moments when I’ve envisioned this month to be as one long walk through dry and smoggy mountains, akin to Frodo and Sam’s walk for all of Two Towers and most of Return of the King.
More and more, as the months of ministry seem to be less and less filled with actual, organized ministry, I find myself wondering “What am I doing? Why am I here? Where is this road going?” I feel disoriented, unsure, trapped, a little bleak, and wanting greater light to illuminate this seemingly never-ending journey in the dark. I know my long-term destination and purpose, but in the moment when I’m sitting in my room in a big, spacious house wasting my life away on spider solitaire while waiting for our ministry host to hopefully arrive with hopefully ministry for us to do one month or when I’m walking down the street for yet another roti and wifi session because we have zero scheduled ministry that day or most of the week for that matter the next month, I can’t help but think: What Is This?.
In the movie, Gandalf loses his way for a moment and can’t recall the right road so he and company sit in the same spot for two weeks before making a move. What a depressingly accurate picture of my life.
Yes, I am being dramatic and ridiculous and not too unlike a petulant child. And at the end of the day, no matter the misgivings and doubts I sometimes have about some of this journey, I know and believe that God is bigger. He’s the Guide that never gets lost and knows exactly where He’s leading me and what He’s leading me through. He’s bigger than all of the unseeing darkness of uncertainty, bigger than all of the disorganization, all of the empty schedules, all of laziness, all of the confusion. He’s bigger than the doubts and feelings of being forgotten, than the “fear of missing out” on life back home, or the worry for loved ones. He’s bigger than the sometimes questionable lifestyles or choices of people on the missionsfield, bigger than all of the missteps and distractions. He’s bigger than all of it. And He has me here, in this moment and in this place for a clear purpose.
It’s up to me to seek and find that purpose. In Him and through Him. And if I’m honest, I already have an idea of what that is for me this month. Part of the reason for such an empty ministry schedule is probably for me to really minister to my team. And the other part is for me to learn to “do ministry” outside of a structured schedule. To go out and live and love among the people, building relationships, no matter how short-lived. I’ve known this since the first few days we got here.
Status report? Absolute failure. Because it’s hard. It’s hard to love and want to invest in deeper relationships with people I don’t necessarily “click” with or have much common ground with between us. It’s hard to be creative or bold in putting myself out there and reaching out to strangers with no preamble or role from which to work. It’s hard to take my stupid head out of my butt and move from inward to outward when I’m sinking in my self-centered vortex via wifi. It’s much easier to clock in and clock out the hours to love and pour out to people in ministry, in a specific setting and context and time constraint. It’s easier to just “do” and serve. Which is precisely the point. I didn’t sign up for easy. I didn’t sign up for selfishness and comfort and convenience. But that’s what I’ve been choosing.
I’ve been choosing to hold onto my hard heart rather than surrendering it to Jesus for Him to change and transform. I’ve been choosing to prefer myself over others. I’ve been choosing to let my environment and surrounding atmosphere determine my attitude rather than vice versa.
I want to put a halt to that right now.
That sounds pretty and nice and determined, except I’ve been saying that everyday for the past two weeks. I need help.
I’m thankful for the teammates that have become friends and sisters to me that encourage me, listen and speak truth, challenge me, and also laugh and have fun with me. It truly makes a world of a difference to walk this journey in the dark with others, rather than alone. But we’re also in the same boat together, so I know I need prayer support from those on the outside. And I know that’s why I’ve hit that spot where I’m not even traveling through the dark but just sitting in the same spot trying to figure out which direction to go in next. Because I added to the twists and turns of this dim gloom by letting my aversion to offending anyone or fear of disappointing my supporters bind me up in silence.
Slowly, so slowly, I am learning to practice what is already head knowledge: there is no shame in admitting weakness or needing help. It’s easier to do this in some areas than in other areas. But I am tired of sitting in this danky, stuffy corner in the dark and I know that I can’t get out of it on my own.
I know Papa hasn’t stopped leading me. Even when it feels like I’m floating stagnantly and aimlessly. I know that He wants to push me out of my crippling tendency to let certain convictions die inside of me, holding them quiet and waiting for others to bring it up first. There is so much He has already walked me through and revealed to me and is continuing to do. But it’s time for me to stop hoarding it to myself, to realize that that’s not the purpose of His work and revelation in me. It’s for me to share and pour out with the world. With the people around me, in the places He sends me.
Such a simple point but I so often need to be reminded: it’s not about me. Never about me. It’s about Him. If I keep my eyes on Him, every single moment, for every single step, perhaps I’d find that this journey in the dark is significantly more manageable and shorter.*
*As is true of everything in my life, I make the same mistakes repeatedly, needing to learn the same lesson over and over again. Like when I sliced the same exact spot on my finger with a knife, 2 months in a row. Sigh. Fortunately, I have the best nurse and sister and friend all in one on my team who chides and takes care of me well, every time.
But again, I can’t do this alone. I am walking this journey with my team and squad, physical people accompanying me, but I also need others on the opposite side of the globe. You may not be physically traveling with me, but in some ways, you can take this trek with me. Your prayers and encouragement act as very real, almost tangible, markers and points of refreshment. Believe that.
And if you’re on your own journey in the dark, share that. With me, with others. I, for one, would love to pray for you. No one ever takes me up on this, but I actually mean it: I want to pray specifically for you. Help me do that! And I hope and pray that you can be encouraged by the knowledge that you’re not alone. Really.
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”|| John 1:5
“In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” || John 16:33b, emphasis mine
Thank you, thank you, thank you to anyone and everyone who has given in contribution at some point. Those who have, those who have wanted to or thought about it but never got around to it, those who have never had any such inclination: I want to ask that all of you consider (with sincere thought and prayer) making a donation, of any amount. I am now just over $900 short of meeting my final deadline. If 36 people give $25, I’ll be done! As always, links are all over the blog page, the orange “Support Me” buttons. Thank you once again, from the bottom of my heart.
