Remember that time I peaced out of America and bumped around the world for a year?
From working with special needs babies in India…
To climbing the Himalayas to distant villages in Nepal…
To playing in the dirt with gypsy kids in Romania…
To sliding through frozen rain to share the gospel in Moldova…
To holding hundreds of orphans in Swaziland…
To beating up on street kids in Mozambique…
To doing nonprofit work in an office in South Africa…
To working with prostitutes in Thailand…
To teaching English to kids in Cambodia…
To working with the aboriginals in Australia…
To traveling and preaching all over Malaysia…
It was one hell of a year.
I loved and hated it.
My eyes were unveiled to a lot of shit in the world.
And yes, I can say that, because I’m at a loss for words to describe some things in the world.
There were multiple parentless babies that took my heart in their hands
and it took all of my strength to not dramatically kidnap them and put them in my backpack.
I wanted to bring them back to America and feed them every single day…
and tuck them in to a cozy bed every single night.
There were many women who looked me in the eye…
silently screaming for help.
Desperate to get out of the sex industry.
I wanted to grab them by the hand and sprint away in the dark of night.
There were many people I came across in 2011 that were running around like
chickens with their heads cut off…
Worshipping any god that was presented to them.
I stood with misty eyes telling them about my Jesus.
The one and only.
I wanted them to understand it… but most just didn’t.
There were teammates that were hard to deal with and meals that were utterly disgusting…
but I got through both with the grace of the Almighty.
I saw healings in the name of Jesus with my own two eyeballs…
I also saw people possessed and tortured by demons.
I rode what seems like every single form of transportation known to man
and slept in some of the most inhumane places.
My eyes were opened to a world that I had never known existed.
Both in the physical realm and the spiritual realm.
I could write a book about the year and I still couldn’t explain half of it.
So just trust, it was crazy.
It was hard.
It was hard to start over every single month.
it was hard to fall in love with a family or culture or orphan and then dip out 30 days later.
It was hard to learn bits of the language and build trust and then leave soon after.
It was hard to do it over, and over, and over, and over again.
Brutal, actually.
it was a beautiful year, yes, but it was so hard.
By the time I got home at the end of it…
I collapsed into a slumber that was only interrupted when it was meal time or
if a friend dropped by to say Shalom.
I was snuggled under my covers for a long while…
Readjusting to the crazy time change and colder climate.
When I would come out of hibernation, I was overwhelmed by the use of English
and the ability to flush toilet paper.
I was pissed at the price of coffee and
the over dramatic, super materialistic Christmas season that surrounded me in suburbia.
I was overwhelmed that I had constant internet and that I could take a warm shower for however long I desired.
It baffled my mind that I didn’t smell like a mountain man.
I cried when it finally hit me that I could drink the water and not get some disease.
It was strange that I could go in public and not be stared at for being a white girl.
I soon adjusted back into American life and I wish I could say I lived happily ever after.
Nope.
Life was 400 times harder after getting back on US soil.
But, I had and still possess a peace that can’t be explained.
It’s freaking weird to look back at who I was when I left at the beginning of 2011.
When I left, I was running from myself…
From my sin and my past.
But the good news is the Lord met me on a rooftop in India
and literally collided with my sick flesh in a beautiful manner.
I sat there broken. Holding out what was left of me. Shameful.
He said, “You’re new baby girl. You’re mine.”
I cried so hard on that rooftop as I let the old me blow away with the wind.
Because of that collision with Him, I was changed.
Don’t get me wrong,
Life is still a battle.
I’ve faced harder things and been tempted and tried and fallen flat on my face multiple times.
I’ve even felt as if He’s some distant God off behind Mars…
waiting for me to mess up.
Although my emotions go crazy and my flesh runs wild…
one thing that I’ve learned is that He is never changing.
He’s constantly the same.
He’s the same Romancer that I met on that roof in India.
He’s the same Friend that I felt holding me when I felt completely alone.
He’s the same Father that has provided for me over and over and over again.
He’s the same as he was three years ago as he was when he spoke me into being 24 years ago.
Things come and go.
People come and go.
Experiences come and go…
but He’s the same.
And that pumps me up.
I’m so glad that he’s the same…
because I’m psychotic and emotional and my heart is a rollercoaster.
He keeps me sane.
What makes me even more thrilled is that I know He didn’t send me around the world
to just see it and come sit in a coffee shop in America for the rest of my life.
I know that there will be many more orphans filling the remains of my tarnished heart
and many more captives screaming at me with silent glances.
I know that painful sacrifices will be in order and that the Creator of the universe
will continue to forcefully romance me on rooftops.
and I couldn’t be more excited to see how it all goes down.
Cheers until next time.
