I can’t feel my feet. Or my nose or my fingers. I’m shaking under this pile of blankets to keep warm. We arrived in Nepal for their cold season, a rough change coming straight from the equator. Our house is colder than it is outdoors, since there is no indoor heating here. I wouldn’t be so cold if I had a sleeping bag, or more clothes than a pair of sweats and a hoodie. But until the airline calls, I am left without a pack. Meaning all the possessions I own are somewhere between Rwanda and Nepal. Now I’m cool with waiting out a warm night’s sleep, but I’m getting a bit impatient after a week of not showering and still not having soap, a towel, or any new clothes to wear if I were to get clean. So waiting for my pack means waiting for a shower. This is day 9.
I’m aching from the way I slept, trying my best not to re-upset my stomach all night. Back in Africa, I got E Coli. It woke me up nauseous in the middle of the night, and I couldn’t go to sleep again until I got sick. It also involved excessive bathroom runs, which especially stinks when the bathroom is a short walk outside. Once I got on medication, I was fine. But since my medicine is in my pack, which is still in India so I’m told, I couldn’t finish it. So last night, when I felt nauseous, got sick a couple times, and could barely leave the bathroom, I knew my E. Coli must have never gone fully away. So today, while my friends are evangelizing at Hindu temples, I am in bed with my bible, my guitar and a bucket.
I am feeling pretty lousy. I am wondering when God will have enough. He asked me to abandon comfort. I left behind my hometown, friends and family, and each of my possessions that couldn’t fit into a 70 liter pack. He asked for my money. I gave towards my trip funds when support didn’t come. In Nicaragua when my phone got stolen he asked me not to be upset, even though it was new and I can’t replace it. As I freeze in bed, he asks me not to mind that I left my only pair of wool socks in Rwanda by mistake, or that the brand new hat I bought in Nepal was stolen the next day. He asked me to have patience when my card shut off for weeks. And even more patience when I called the bank, and after 30 minutes of security questions I ran out of minutes on my international phone. He asked me to sacrifice calls to friends and family in order to be present where I’m at. He asked me to for my time, 9 months on the field pending long term missions. And now my physical comfort is gone. I am getting sick all day and freezing my butt off.
I’m not left with much. But to suffer for Christ is a blessing. And what I do have God is offering me, peace that surpasses my understanding, (Philippians 4:7) and comfort that’s not situational. Now that nothing is here to keep me comfortable, the Holy Spirit is here to keep me comforted. See the difference? Being comfortable means something is enabling you to feel that way. But comfort through circumstance is temporary. Being comforted by God is his way of answering his promise to be with us. (John 14:27 & 16:33)
But how can God, who is a comforter, give us comfort when we find it in everything but Him? If we are always comfortable, is it possible we’re living too carefully? Can we be bold and careful at the same time? Being bold grows the Kingdom of God. Disciples don’t get made by wishing they’d be made. We are called, all of us, to go and make them. We have to be the few workers that are to bring about a plentiful harvest. (Matthew: 9:37)
This blog doesn’t have to end with me being healed or getting my things back. I am not writing this for you all to wish my troubles away. In the same day I stayed home sick, I went outside to get some air and saw the Himalayas from my rooftop. On sunny days when the fog clears they’re so visible you can’t look away. I don’t know many 20 year olds that can say they live in an apartment in another country, let alone with a view of the world’s largest mountain range. I am blessed beyond measure, and very aware of it. I got prayed over at least ten times last night. I was taken care of by my friends and left alone to be with Jesus. And my comfort was right there with me. Not in a healthy body, any physical relief, warm blankets or anyone keeping me company. My comfort was God alone, and he is plenty.
If your sense of peace can be taken by a change in circumstance, you may need to find it somewhere else. The Bible tells us everyone will suffer. And we get the choice to suffer well. (1 Peter 4:19) I know I want to be united with Christ in his suffering, so that I might be united with him in his resurrection, too. (Romans 6:5) All that I have he has given me. He paid it all. He gave it all. And he deserves it all right back.
