It has been awhile since I have let my blog-osphere friends have a peek inside my mind and I am honestly not sure what is lurking around up here, so consider yourself duly warned. Writing is cathartic for me sometimes and seeing as how I can’t sleep we will give this a whirl.
24 hours ago I climbed through my mosquito net and laid my head down on my gross travel pillow in a teeny, tiny bottom bunk in a cabin in the bush. I was hot, sweaty, dirty, and covered in bug bites and tired as all get out. Tired from walking 2 miles one way to a dingy little hospital to lay my hands on precious Kenyan people who believe in a Jesus who heals. Tired from dancing like a madwoman at a youth rally attended by over 150+ teenagers who believe in a Jesus that saves. Tired from simply living a lifestyle that some would say is madness. It was a good tired. A “thank you Jesus” kind of tired.
Tonight I am laying in a pretty fabulous bed in a gorgeous guesthouse. I washed most of the week’s worth of dirt off in a bathtub! (Gasp! Who knew that could it could be so glorious to be clean!) And I am still tired. The kind of tired where I could sleep for a week and turn over to sleep for another week. But, I can’t sleep. I lay down and this is all I see:
I have been trying to shake it off for a few hours and nothing can erase those faces from my mind.
While I am out there doing “ministry” it doesn’t really seem to phase me. I see hurting people, struggling people, desperate people on a daily basis and I still manage to do my thing. I pray for them, I bless them in Jesus’ name, I believe with them, I listen to them and I love them. Seems easy enough. I am being obedient. I am doing what Jesus told me to do. I am living Matthew 10. I LOVE my life.
But. (You knew there was a but coming…)
Then I hop a plane and find myself in Nairobi with great food, great company, comfy beds and hot showers. And it hits me like a freight train.
The faces. The dirt.
The longing in their eyes. The heat.
The tattered clothes. The bugs.
The pain just beneath the smile. The cold water shower.
The hopelessness. My flesh.
And so I am torn. Utterly and completely torn.
