//It’s been a few days since I actually wrote this but hadn’t posted it because of a lack of internet. As of now, my team and I have made it safely to Chile, and are beginning our ministry with a local church here! More to come on that, but to play catch-up this is what I wrote during the travel from the US to South America.//
I believe that words can change us.
And the words we choose to associate with certain things shapes our perspective and how we view them. So, I’ve made the decision that in my pursuit of a closer relationship with God, I’m going to sometimes call him “Dad” and refrain from the terms I normally use like Lord, and Heavenly Father. (Knowing that God is many things and he IS my Lord and Heavenly Father, but for the sake of intimacy and seeing myself truly as a daughter to him, Dad it is.)
So, words are important. But I’m having a hard time with sharing them lately. I don’t feel like I have anything particularly interesting to say at all right now, which is why I haven’t been posting many new blogs, even though a lot has been happening. I’ve felt this strange lack of emotion or inspiration in sharing what has been going on recently.
But, right now I’m typing on my phone thousands of feet off the ground in the very back row window seat of an airplane headed to Houston, our last layover before the final flight to Chile, our first country.
This is happening.
It’s starting.
The World Race has begun.
And honestly, I’ve never been so at peace.
I think that initially I took my lack of strong emotion or feeling towards leaving and saying goodbyes as something that had hardened in me. That I was intentionally not feeling so that I would have some control over the fact that my life had kind of flipped upside down. (And for a while, I think that this was the case.) Controlling and suppressing my emotions is definitely something that I struggle with and use as a defense mechanism when things get hard or uncomfortable. But I think Dad is revealing to me that right now the quiet in my soul is not turning off and shutting down, but accepting and trusting. There’s a comforting calm I feel that can only be explained as Dad’s hand resting on my shoulder, steady and unwavering, a constant reminder that he is going with me to all of these places.
There is freedom in letting go, and saying goodbye to the things and people and places I’m used to has lifted a weight off of me I didn’t know I was carrying. With nothing left to hold on to, I can move forward without looking back.
So here I am writing a blog from a plane. Feeling like this is EXACTLY where I need to be. Any of the doubt or fear I might have had about the crazy life ahead of me is replaced by the absolute truth that he is with me always, to the end of the age.
In peace,
Britt
