I am replaceable. That’s the thought that has ran through my mind over these three weeks. All the things I was most sure of, I am now questioning. I guess I didn’t know God, not in the way he wants to be known. Sometimes I nod my way through a day of ministry and think “anyone can do this, why me” I am rubbed raw of emotion. I am constantly keeping my head above the water when I try to process culture shock, missing the comforts of home, and who I am in God’s eyes. And in the effort of being vulnerable, I have in fact drowned a few times.
Then I look around, and what I see is so breath taking that I understand why I mistake growth for sinking. I see the people that decided to go on this journey with me, who push me just enough to need encouragement. I walk the streets of ministry and take in the vast mountains, how they are seeped with glory. I see the vision of the houses in the village that are made with firm hands that are tired of carrying so many loads. Rows and rows of corn grow before my very feet that are grimy and worn from only having two pairs of shoes, and I think how the corn has fed so many families and replenished so many stomach’s that were once hungry. Suddenly I am not so replaceable. Not in the Abba’s sights anyhow. I am many things; broken, beaten, fearful but I am also beautiful, powerful, and resourceful. Like the corn I can spread myself among these people and have the father, who chose someone like me to testify for his steady goodness, give the people what their soul is famished for. There is a simple beauty in the fact that we see ourselves so ordinary, bland even. When our creator speaks that we are art. Art that deserves to be hung up, looked at, then questioned by the people who sees it. That very curiosity causes them to think about the creator. If my “being there” in a small village, being seen, has people raise questions about what sent me then that is enough. Enough for me to accept the fact that I am going to have to keep swimming. Enough for me to show myself the same grace the father shows me.
Thanks for these three weeks Abba.
Until next time,
Alexis Simmons
