While I love it here in Mozambique, and while God is so good, and He is teaching me so much, I am learning that every day is not easy. As a matter of fact, most days are hard in some way or another.
This journey has been absolutely incredible. God has been so loving and by my side every second. But I am starting to see that this year is a year of hard lessons.
It is a year of breaking things off. And it doesn’t stop. It is a year of learning how to persevere. It is a year of being disciplined. It is a year of learning what it is to know the Father’s love. It is a year of sharpening. It is a year of growing.
I am starting to see that bringing me out here, out on this race, was the only way God was going to get my full attention. I am so hard headed and stubborn that He had to bring me to a place like this to do what He wanted to do with me. And this is only the beginning I am starting to see.
Today was an especially hard day. I will be short and sweet about it (or at least I’ll try), but basically I just had a little pity party with the Lord for a bit. I have literally not been alone for a week now. Not one moment without people everywhere in my face. We live in this incredibly loving house full of kids, but sometimes, it just isn’t fun.
I am an introvert, so my sanity comes from alone time. And since that time has been non-existent for a week now, I was about to go crazy, and it showed. (Yikes!)
But, God is my superhero and He swooped in just in time. I got a minute at a little corner restaurant alone (almost, I was a different table than the rest of my team). But anyway, the Lord, my Father, spoke so dearly and intimately, and exactly as I needed in my freak out time. He calmed me and quieted me with His love.
He reminded me that my rights and entitelments are not mine anymore. He reminded me of how His Son lived. How I need to daily take up my cross. How my life is not my own. How I am a part of a bigger picture. How His Son did not have a place to lay His head. How He has called me to live a life that will be watched. How He has called me to live a life that there will be trials and suffering. How He called me to be slow to anger and quick to love. How He delights in me. How He loves me and cherishes me.
He spoke the exact words that I needed to hear. He is showing me the parts of myself, my motives and my stubborness, that need to be broken. He is disciplining me in ways that hurt. That I don’t want to be disciplined in. But He is my good Father, and that’s what good fathers do.
Then after speaking over me, reminding me of how He is trying to teach me. Reminding me to lower myself so He can be propped up. Reminding me that I am here to bring Him glory. After He reminded me of all of these things, He reminded me of a vision He gave me about a week ago.
It was a picture of how He loves me. He showed me myself sitting on a throne, being draped in purple velvet robes. He was placing a crown on my head and wrapping His arms around me. The love in that moment, in that vision, was so big, so consuming.
He reminded me of that today. Today when it was hard. Today when I was so frustrated. When I wanted to give up. Go home. He reminded me of how He loves me. Of how He embraces me and delights in me, as He does in all His children. How He rejoices over me with singing.
So during my trials, my frustrations, my Andi-ness, my attitude, my good Father knows. He knows what I need. He knows His daughter. He knows how to teach me, to discipline me, to love me. He is my refreshment. My sanity. My home.
Thank you, Father. Thank you, Daddy. Thank you for being my home, my retreat and my comfort when I am so uncomfortable. Thank you for being patient with me. For remaining. For chasing. For being there in the good days, and for being there in bad days to pick me up and turn my eyes back to you. Thank you.
