“Father, I am weary. My soul is worn and home feels like a distant dream.”
Thus starts my journal entry from Monday of our third week. I do not doubt the Lord’s presence or that I am supposed to be here. These I know in my heart and have seen to be true. However on the surface is a dichotomy between what I know and what I see before me.
I am learning more and more that surface level- the things I see and the things the world perceives- is fleeting and surface level lies.
I serve every day at a refugee camp, playing with and loving on children. I teach that a is for apple and b is for banana, c is for cat and d is for dog. I hold sleeping babies and teach toddlers who have never seen an airplane before to wave hello.
The American world looks at this and deems it worthy of an instagram post or gold star, maybe even a sincere thank you.
On one hand, this is true. Last week I posted an instagram picture captioned, “loving every second.” This is true through my Jesus. I love all the hugs and kisses and all the hands I hold. I love getting to spin my girls around in circles and blow dandelions into the wind with toddlers. I see so much of Jesus’ heart every day and it fills my heart with joy. However, the part of that caption that sometimes screams louder in my head is the short preface, “sweaty, dirty, and exhausted.”
What the world does not see are the fights we break up daily. These children are beautiful, passionate sons and daughters, and far too often in their little lives they have seen passion wielded poorly. They act out in violence because violence and pain is all they have known.
The world perceives cute children and babies but does not see the infected ears caused by poorly done piercings looped through with strings. The dirty clothes and faces. The heads full of lice. So many things I wish I could fix and take away but when you are one person in a crowd of one hundred children there is nothing you can do.
Second Corinthians tells me that I am being transformed from glory to glory, even though absolutely nothing I see in front of me is glorious.
What I see is fatigue so deep it often sends us to bed before nine. What I see are sleeping pads for eight in the middle of a cramped living room floor. What I see are lies that try to tell us, “because you cannot say the name of Jesus, you are doing no good,” and “because you cannot speak their language, you are useless.”
I see pain and hurt that runs deep. I see difficulty building my team up because my soul feels worn down. I see fear and uncertainty because going home in less than three months is full of unknown things.
So. Glorious? Not a chance.
One chapter past all the “glory to glory” verses my Bible tells me, “do not focus on what is seen, but on what is unseen. What is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
In the midst of it all, I praise God. I thank Him for going so much deeper than the surface level. Than what is seen. I also thank Him that the glory from the chapter before isn’t a worldly glory, as hard as it is. The glory that Second Corinthians talks of comes from seeking the Lord’s face.
I sometimes wish glory to glory meant what is seen. I wish life wasn’t messy and hurt people didn’t hurt others. I wish I wasn’t so weary and I wish everything was good all the time.
But Peter says in his first book, “for a short time you have had to struggle in various trials so that the genuineness of your faith- though refined by fire– may result in praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”
Sometimes “glory to glory” doesn’t look glorious in the eyes of the world. Sometimes, being transformed from glory to glory looks like being refined by the fire. Moses wandered for years in the wilderness. Abraham left his home, family, and all he had ever known. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego walked into a literal fire.
Through the trials, they sought His face. And through my broken down weariness, I seek His face.
I seek His face because He is the only thing I have to hold on to forever. He is good. He is faithful. I hold to these truths because they will not pass away or let me down. I hold on to Him in His glorious love when what I see around me is much less than glorious.
This is not a story about bringing a little one to the Lord or some amazing adventure. It is real and messy and still unfinished. It is deeper than what the surface shows. This is the unseen- and the Lord is meeting me here.
I am lifting my eyes and setting my gaze on Him. He is forever good and I will trust Him.
