*This was written yesterday (Tuesday, July 8th). Due to lack of Internet access, life will be a bit scrambled and jumbled. Bear with me.
It’s day four of being in Nepal, of this life called World Race, and already I’m doubting. From the get-go I’ve been reminded of past insecurities and struggles as they resurface in current day. I wonder how on earth I got myself in this place, from the ungodly amount of sweat I produce to the limited wardrobe that is already falling apart at every seam (Forever 21, you’re a hot mess).
So I’d be lying if I didn’t say I miss America. Cause I do. A lot.
In America, we make God a part of our schedule. We put a timeframe on the Holy Spirit and then go about our day, throwing up a prayer here and there. But here, they live by God. They breathe him, speak him. He literally is their everything: their daily Bread and Living Water. It scares me to be in his presence this much, this often. I am so weak, so at a loss for words that I can do nothing but sit in the stale air with my eyes closed.
These people are on fire; the Holy Spirit consumes them. They are so strong, so full of truth and love that I can’t even begin to fathom. I sit in grand awe, incapable of feeling and expressing what is fully happening here.
I am discouraged. I am struggling. I long for the comfortable lifestyle I left behind, the way God so perfectly fit in my schedule. I miss American worship. I miss being able to show my knees and shoulders, because let’s face it, long skirts are rough in 80+ degree humidity.
Yet I know that if I stayed home, or if I were to leave the Race now, I would not be content. I know God has me here—right here on the floor of this little church—for a significant reason. He is calling me out of myself and it’s the most terrifying experience. He has designed this puzzle of a team with me being a crucial piece.
I don’t know why. What good can a white girl who wishes for almond butter and her closet do? A girl who, ever since arriving, has doubted why she ever agreed to this?
Yet I am here. In my sweat and awful stench, makeup-less thrown together self, I am whole. Constantly broken down, but whole. Because he lives in me. He called to me, and the call was this Race. Right now, in my doubt and discouragement, I don’t know why. But he does. So I continue to trust, with a trust that is beyond American borders.
He is here, and I will find him.
