Being on the race isn’t the pictures you see on Instagram. It isn’t all smiles and this amazing growth experience with God where you see the miraculous happen daily. It isn’t being surround by perfect ministry all the time. It isn’t sight seeing and adventures. Though you get to do those things in a very small portion.
Being on the race is hard. This month I have texted my mom once a week saying I’m ready to come home. I’m ready to be in my bed, snuggled up next to my dog. I am ready to be able to walk out the door without telling 6 different people where I am going. I ready to be able to think for just one person. But most importantly I am ready to be in a church where I speak the language. I am ready to be in worship that I’m not leading and isn’t more stressful than refreshing. I am ready to be in his presence without feeling like I am performing. I am ready to feel like I won’t offend the culture by the way I want to worship. I want to be around my community who is always pouring into me. I want a hug from Adee that’s so tight on my neck it makes it hard to breathe but it’s okay because it’s out of complete love. I want to be shopping for Christmas presents for the people I love. I want to wake up in the morning and walk into the living room with a cup of coffee where my mom is waiting for me to have our daily conversations about Jesus and the way he is working in our lives.
I feel drained. Emotionally, spiritually, and physically. My tank is on E. I feel like I have nothing left to pour out. BUT that’s where we grow. When we are completely done. When we can only rely on his strength alone to get us through. This is growing season. This is where I learn to solely rely on Dad (God) and his word. This is where I turn to him to fill me up and not the feeling of comfort I get walking into my church at home. This is where I lean back into his arms and let him grab hold of me. This is where I learn to lay down my pride of being the perfect girl who up and left for a 11 months on a mission trip and accept that I am just as human as the people here in Rwanda that live in homes made of mud bricks. That I am not better than one single person because of what I do. This is where I allow my reality to show through.
For those of you at home wondering how I am doing. I am empty but hopeful. Broken but being built up again by The Creator of heaven and earth. Lost and wondering, trying to find a source to fill me up, when it’s all around me and His name is Jesus.
“But he said to me “My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9
