As I sit underneath the sunset in a remote Nepalese village, I can’t help but to stop and give thanks for the beautiful sights and sounds that are currently dancing before me. The birds sing much louder at this time of the evening, and the deep blue skies blend well into the dispersed, pink clouds that fade into a soft red as the suns goes to sleep on this side of the world. At this time, the sleepy sun spreads out a sort of orange light over the village that I do not experience back home in California. The trees have turned into dark silhouettes and the fireflies are starting to come out.
This, my friends, is Nepal.
But just a taste of it.
The weight of my commitment in this next year finally hit me once I found myself slowly being stripped of everything I hold onto for security, comfort, and even love.
I still remember praying over coming on the World Race over a year ago. I could still see myself clearly: laying down on my bed late at night, reading World Race blogs from my phone, crying and praying over whether God wanted me to go or not. Whether or not it was possible, whether or not it was His will for me. And now, here I am. I am sitting within a remote village of Nepal, across the world and far, far away from the hands of my homely comforts and the physical closeness of my loved ones. And let me tell you- it has already been a painful battle for me- spiritually, mentally, emotionally, physically. What you don’t really realize until you get here is that this journey is far more challenging than you would ever imagine. Prior to the Race, I would easily speak to others about how I am more than willing and ready to give up my comforts of home for a year of squatty potties and no showers, but the weight of my commitment did not actually hit me until these expectations came to surface. They have come to life, and they are no longer just words- they are now my reality.
Let me be real for a second- It is unbelievably hot and humid in this village, and we are sweating day and night. We have two rusty stalls with a single squatty potty in each, in which the one to the right has a hose hanging down right next to the squatty where you can wash up. This is our shower. It right next to the very place where everyone poops. We sleep on the floor of a room with our sleeping pads and a mosquito net over us. In our room, there are lizards, spiders, and all kinds of little creatures crawling and flying all around us. The mosquitoes and ants are relentless little beings here, feasting on us with every chance they get. Most of us are bitten from head to toe, and the thick layers of heat and humidity do not make the endless urges to itch any better.
This, my friends, is also Nepal.
Being here, God has begun stripping me of everything. Homesickness struck me hard, and it is only my first month. I found myself feeling so weak. My heart was so heavy with pain and discomfort. Already in these beginning days of my journey, God has been tearing down my idols and stripping me of my securities so that I could find my security solely in Him. He has been pulling me into a life of complete dependence on His heart and His hands alone. The LORD has been chiseling at my heart so that I may genuinely find my refuge, my comfort, my relief, and my sole identity in Him alone.
I don’t even know how to fully describe to you this spiritual experience He has already been bringing me through in only a few days. But I do know that it has been one of the most challenging weeks in my walk with the LORD.
I grew up in the church and sang many praise and worship songs for over 22 years. The words to these songs have been sewed into my heart, naturally, and I could easily sing them with my lips without sincerity in my heart. And let’s just say- I have been experiencing praise and worship music in a completely different light, almost, dare I say, a more true light. I have never felt this way before. I have never felt the weight of worship, praise, and sincere adoration of Jesus until I found myself drenched in my own sweat, bug-bitten all over my body, and puffy eyed from silently crying as I worshiped with my brothers and sisters here in the village. God has been bringing me to this place of what it really means to be so broken and so empty to where the only one who can truly fill me up is Him. In that sacred moment of worship, I couldn’t help but to cry. Why? Because I grew up singing these songs all my life in church and I know them by heart. I would easily sing them from where I was standing, but I do not think I ever really sang from my heart as genuinely as I did in that moment. And the funny thing is- I wasn’t even singing with my lips, but I was singing so loudly in my heart. I realized that I never really understood what it meant to sing “There is no one else for me, none but Jesus” until I came here. I never really came to understand what it is to surrender completely to Jesus until He stripped me of everything I placed in front of Him, without even realizing it. And because of this, my heart has never sang more genuinely. Whenever I would sing with my lips at home, they too often passed as just words. It is easy to become numb in comfort. Now, I cannot help but to sit here in silence by my lips, but my heart has been crying out louder than my lips ever could.
“But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
2 Corinthians 12:9-10
And that’s what it all comes down to. I have never felt more WEAK in my life. Yet, my weakness has brought me into deeper levels of intimacy with the LORD, where the Spirit has been extravagantly moving me to find my strength in His words alone. I was convicted of my selfishness and of my pride. He has been breaking the darkest little corners of my heart. I realized that God has been stripping me in order to show me what it means to REALLY have HIS power made perfect in my weakness.
Through the heartaches and pains, I know that I want to live a life that magnifies the Ultimate giver of love. In doing so, I am able to give this love to every child and every face I encounter around the world. Genuinely, purely, with every part of my heart and my soul.
And to think that this is just the start.
This is just the beginning.
I need to find my life and my heart in Jesus. I need to break free every morning from any hiss of the enemy that tries to tear me away from why I am here. Whenever thoughts and memories of home come to me, I need to take it to God and make it a conversation with Him. I need to walk with Him every second of every day. I did not choose this path because it is easy, I chose it because I want to proclaim freedom. I need to bring His Kingdom to these places. For though I am weak, I know that He will hold me under His wing. Though dark thoughts might try to haunt me, I know that the love of God heals.
And because of His love, I am set free. I suppose that’s what separates us from the rest. Though we may struggle in these beautiful, foreign places, we choose to persevere and we choose to endure because of the Kingdom and because of the love of the Father. That is what makes any of this pain worth it. That’s what makes being so far away from the people I love worth it. Surrender for the sake of the Kingdom. Learn to press in and receive His mercies with each new morning.
So, yes. I am being stripped.
But I pray that my nakedness would only be covered by the joy of existing with and for my Maker.
As I was reading my Bible the other day, a little fortune from a fortune cookie that I once saved months ago slipped through the pages and onto my lap. It read, “It is easier to go downhill than up, but the view is much better at the top.”
After all, imagine the pain He endured for us?
Set yourself free.
There is freedom once you choose to surrender.
Hey! Don’t get me wrong, I love Nepal. And I’d say- don’t even get me started on how stunning Nepal is. The culture, the warm smiles, the giddy children shouting “Hello sister! Hello sister!” nonstop, the nature, the colors, the patterns, the clothing, the people, the homemade food, the incredible tea, the endless rice fields, the animals, the fireflies, the mud huts, the families of butterflies, that one time we took a jeep ride through the mountains, that one time we rode on top of the public bus, and that one time I rode on the back of a motorcycle past goats, cows, and beautiful seas of green.
But, I’m choosing to save all that for another post.
Stay close? 🙂
With all my love,
Richelle
