This life is weird, and I don’t want it to ever become normal.
I leave for Cambodia tomorrow, and while there are many things about Thailand that I will never forget (the amazing food, for example), there are gifts that the Lord prepared for me here, and He gave them to me through specific moments.
There seems to have been a pattern of simple moments that the Lord continually gives to me on the World Race to remind me of why I am where I am, especially when it hurts the most. Despite the blessing of having conveniences at our fingertips this month, it has also been a curse to my heart and fooled me into corners of helplessness. But, as always, the Lord found me. He responded to my heartaches through the beauty that lies within the simplicity of both painful and overwhelmingly joyous moments. He gave me two beautifully orchestrated moments this past month that both broke me yet filled me. Two specific moments that brought tears to my eyes yet planted my heart more deeply into His own.
One.
It was night, and all of us were ready to call it a day. The sun was setting on Bangkok as we were on our way back to Samut Songkhram after a day of exploring the city. I gazed over the towering buildings and over the city lights through my window as we drove by. And man, my heart started to become so heavy. The city lights were hypnotizing, and I found myself starting to get lost into a sort reverie. A reverie of home. This happens sometimes, you know. I’ve started to realize that when you’re going around the world for long periods of time, sometimes you get lost in a reverie of the place you will always love, in a reverie of the people who will always love you. I started to swim in memories of my family. I started to swim in the thought of driving down the 101 and seeing the bright city lights shine through the smog of Los Angeles. As I sat in that van full of strangers and with my teammates nearby, I started to silently cry to myself. I started to sob at the thought of not being able to see my family and the people I love till next year.
And in that moment, all I wanted was to be home.
All I wanted was to come home and open the front door to my family waiting for me. Instead, I found myself in a van. It was dark, and I couldn’t stop crying. I started to think about the places that I had known all my life and how they were starting to feel like a dream. How the once so familiar things were slowly starting to become unfamiliar, and I started to get scared.
This thought was killing my joy.
And helplessly, I started to cry even harder.
As tears were streaming down my cheeks, I felt my teammate, Dresdyn, place her hand on mine.
A sudden, super natural peace came over my heart, and she didn’t even have to say anything.
I turned to her, and I swear the look in her eyes was as heavy as my heart.
And in that moment, I not only felt the Lord, but I heard Him.
He used Dresdyn’s hands and eyes to speak to me louder than the wailing cries of my heart ever could.
I could hear the Lord telling me that everything was going to be okay. I could hear the Lord telling me that He had already given me all the love I need to persevere. I could hear the Lord telling me that He was never going to leave me. I could hear the Lord telling me that I am strong. I could hear the Lord telling me that His grace is sufficient for me. I could hear the Lord telling me that His strength is made perfect in my weakness. I could hear the Lord telling me that I was exactly where He wanted me. I could hear the Lord telling me that I am here to bring a home to those who do not have a home. Because not only am I here to bring the love that my earthly home has instilled within me, but I am really here to bring the love that my eternal home in His kingdom has given to satisfy every part of who I am, every part of who He has created me to be.
I closed my eyes, and I smiled.
I smiled because I could literally feel the warmth of His love holding me.
And I had never felt more safe in His arms.
Two.
Hand-in-hand, I found myself spinning in circles as the glorious sounds of students singing in Thai filled the air. You could’ve came into that room and thought I was a crazy lady, dancing and singing at the top of my lungs to lyrics that I don’t understand, but I swear that if you were there, you would’ve started singing and dancing too. Contagious. It was one of those moments that you know you will long for even while you are living them.
I don’t know how to describe it to you, but it was perfect.
Everything about that moment was perfect.
Even though we were exhausted from performing for the students practically all day, that moment brought my spirit back to life and it rejuvenated every weary bone in my body.
And man, it was glorious.
I can close my eyes and still see it now, still hear it now.
I could see the overflowing joy beaming through our faces. I could hear the laughter, I could hear the music, I could hear the voices, I could see the smiles growing even bigger as we dived even deeper into the moment. This vibrant, contagious joy became even clearer, contrasted against the spinning walls and the spinning room. As we continued to hold hands and turn in circles, I could hear the Lord speaking to me again.
Tears came to my eyes.
I could hear the Lord telling me that I was at the center of His will. I could hear the Lord telling me to let go of any inhibitions, to let go of any doubt, and to stay in that moment. To live in that moment, to love in that moment- and with His love. I could hear the Lord telling me that He will still be here even when we leave. I could hear the Lord telling me that sometimes this is what sharing the gospel looks like. I could hear the Lord telling me that sometimes sharing the gospel is spoken more loudly in ways that words never could. I realized that sometimes sharing the gospel looks like spinning around in circles and singing at the top of your lungs. Because once we decide to dance even deeper with the love and with the joy that He has given to us, others will want to come and dance with this love and with this joy, too. They will want to dance with Jesus. And sometimes that’s exactly what people need in order to see Jesus. A raw, uninhibited, pure joy that comes to life when you decide to give yourself completely to what He has already written, so that others may also dance into the fulfillment of their joy and the completion of their stories in Him.
And in that moment, I knew one thing for sure.
I knew that the Lord was also turning in circles with us, and that His love was everywhere.
His love was in us, His love was all around us.
And I know that simple moments like this scream of His love.
Scream of His existence.
I closed my eyes, and His beautiful voice filled my ears.
He told me to keep choosing joy. He told me to keep choosing love.
He told me keep dancing.
Hand-in-hand, I continued to spin in circles and sing at the top of my lungs.
And in that moment, I know that the Lord was dancing with us too, and He said to me-
“My daughter, this is life.”
“Let them praise His name with dancing, and make music to Him with tambourine” Psalm 149:3
