While I sit here, plucking the nice little ants that found their way into my instant coffee, I will tell you a story about how my flesh fought God with pride, and alas, God won. All before 7:00 in the morning.
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This month, our team is in charge of Unsung Heroes, which means we get to search out established ministries & visit them in hopes of a future partnership with the world race. Last Tuesday, we had the opportunity to visit 12×12 Love Project & Love Guatemala in a town next to Antigua, (I can't pronounce the name of the town nor spell it, so I won't try haha). We figured out that in order to get to Antigua we had to take one bus to a town, hope off, cross over a bridge, catch another bus, and voila! Antigua!
As we walked up to the bus station in our town at 6:30 in the morning, I captured a breath of excitement. We were about to go on an adventure! It was only four of us, we weren't totally sure which bus to take, what the person picking us up in Antigua looked like, or even what our day would turn out to be after that.
A spark of my old independent self rose up. This is the kind of stuff that I loved. I loved facing a challenge and figuring it out on my own. I loved being in control of everything and conquering problems as they came my way.
So here I am, confident in all the wrong ways, ready to fight the day on my own. We walked up to the bus station, almost got on the wrong (sketchy) bus and I had to use what little spanish skills I've acquired over the past 3 months to talk to two bus drivers and figure out which was the correct, bright, colorful bus.
As I sat down in my seat, I felt a sense of accomplishment and pride. I was gloating in my independence. Congratulating myself for being confident & calm.
But there was a tiny bit of doubt peeking through the pride… Were we really on the right bus?… Did the bus driver understand my terrible attempt at spanish?… Or was he just saying "Si Si" to my questions to get me to stop asking over and over?
Then in one swoop, God won.
I looked up and saw a familiar face stepping onto the bus. It was the principal of the school where we had been helping out with the feeding problem every morning the past two weeks. He recognized us and sat down in the seat next to me. He said he was going to town to do missions work and confirmed that we were on the correct bus.
A rush of guilt and repentance washed over me. Yep, that was definitely God telling me that I am not about to go back to my old ways and do everything on my own. He loves me too much to allow me to even attempt to be dependent on my own, faulty abilities. He put the principal on the bus to guide me and prove to me He is always in control & providing for me. I should have never trusted in my own ways, but trusted God would show me the way. And it is only with Him that I had complete confidence and peace for the day.
I am no longer prideful in my independence, but rather gratefully humbled & honored to depend on Him. Life is much easier this way 🙂