The phrase, I'm fine makes me laugh. It's a cop out and is like saying a burning building is good.
For the past few weeks, I have said I'm fine. I have been fine seeing children covered in so much dirt they look black. I have been fine not sleeping well for three weeks because I was terrified of the animals that lurked at night. I was fine eating hot food in a humid climate and I was fine taking showers so cold they stole the breathe right out of my lungs.
I'm not sure if me saying I'm fine came from expecting myself to be stronger than I was or if it was God's strength so I wouldn't lose my mind. Looking back, it was Him. Definitely.
The first 24 hours of debrief, I cried extensively. The reality that my grandad was gone weighed heavily on my heart. The farewells to my babes, my friends and my people in Tondo broke me more than I could have possibly imagined. Then the tragedy my friends witnessed caused my heart to shatter. To say the least, I was carrying just a couple burdens by the end of the month.
I arrived at debrief and kept my friends at arms length. I smiled cordially, laughed when appropriately and stared off into space. Alot.
My heart was in turmoil and I was anything but fine. I begged God to meet me, to give me life in the midst of my hurting, to make sense of what I'd seen and how I felt.
They say it's ok to not be ok. But between you and me, what the heck does that even mean? I wanted answers.
I wanted it fixed.
I've realized grief sucks. It flat out hurts more than anything I can describe and there are stages. I hate stages. My stages may be different from yours and apparently that's ok too. It started with utter hysteria. Then I went into shock. A day or two later I was numb and then anger started building. Intense frustration at anyone or anything in my path.
For example, my new and incredible team leader, Noah, encouraged us to ask Jesus to forgive us for some stuff and I snapped that I had nothing to repent for. Uh, girlfriend say whatttttt…..I was so icy and cold that when I stared in the mirror, it scared me. I didn't recognize the face staring back.
Where was the girl who is the lover of the broken?
Who plays with lice infested kids?
Where was this so called prayer warrior who fights for her team and yearns for others to break into freedom?
I realized in that moment that I was anything but ok. I had opened my heart to love and not only had I been hurt but I felt rejected, alone, discouraged and not good enough. I'd become offendable.
So In that fleeting moment I decided I was done.
I would exist in this community and on this Race because I had to but I was done loving. It was just too painful and besides, where was God in all this? I hadn't felt or heard from Him in weeks and that pissed me off too.
Later that night, I was talking to a friend and candidly told him where I was at. Then I said something that surprised us both. I said, I just miss Jesus.
My lover, the Giver of my life had been noticeably absent from my actions. I'd talked at and about Him but I hadn't talked to him.
So I asked him where He was in this month.
He whispered that He never left.
I'm a runner. When pain becomes to great, I peace out. I thought I kicked that nasty habit in Roaton but apparently grief is ugly in my life and there were gaping holes in my heart that needed to be soothed by Jesus and only Jesus.
I thought I was fine. Then another friend vulnerably shared stuff and I felt overwhelmingly convicted.
So I started digging and asked some questions…Who am I trying to impress? Who am I trying to protect in acting like I'm put together when my heart was a mess and needs a dose of God's healing touch? Unbeknownst to me, I was trying to impress myself. The storms of this past year have been heavy and as each one has rolled in, the power and precious blood of Jesus Christ in me is the only reason I have survived.
But this month. The deaths. The trials. The poverty. The tragedy. This ache. It was just too much and I snapped.
I've been living to beat brokenness. I've been striving to check it off my list. When I felt like God wasn't working quick enough, I took over. I tapped out of the Word and began doing. My ministry list is a mile long. We did more in The Philippines than you can count but I put my Best Friend on the back burner and the backlash burn was deeper than I thought possible. In one of my greatest hours of need I unknowingly told Jesus, I got this. You sit this one out.
Shoot.
So as you read this, I don't have any great words for you. I don't have wisdom to rock your world or make you a better Christian. I just have myself and my Bible. I have my Jesus who has been by my side the whole time. And I have this crazy awesome peace coursing through my heart and my soul. Christ is peace, Christ is in me and therefore I am peace. Wow, what an assurance to chew on as I sit here in Thailand getting ready to start Month 5. I feel more rested than I have in months and its because I'm literally livin on a prayer. Christ is my life, my life is Christ's. I have all that I need when I turn to Him, not from Him. Abiding in His wings and resting my head on His shoulder is way more comfortable than trying to play hopscotch on His shadows.
Come with me. Join me as I humbly enter the throne room of my God and my Savior. God desires me. God loves fellowship with me. I praise Him because it doesn't matter that I left. It doesn't matter that I came back with my tail between my legs. The beauty is that His forgiveness has already happened. He is welcoming me back into his tender embrace as though I never left.
So I can stop being fine. I can let go. Release. Relax. Be.
My heart has been quaking for three weeks. It's time for peace. Thanks Jesus. I've missed you.
