Malo e lelei from Zambia! The Lord’s been teaching me a lot about my heart these past few months – here are some thoughts on those lessons!
In kindergarten, I learned that people liked me better when I didn’t admit my flaws. I went three years needing glasses before I admitted that I was imperfect in some way. In elementary school, I fell into a groove of being the family peace-keeper, knowing which words and which set of circumstances would ensure that no one crossed any lines too far. In middle school, I figured out where to sit in classes and how many answers I could volunteer to be the teacher’s favorite without annoying my classmates. I learned to make sure I was quiet enough, happy enough, and friendly enough so no one would suspect that I was really, really broken. In high school, I prided myself on being the good-girl, the friend people could rely on, and involved myself in the exact amount of extra-curriculars to maintain sanity and still be an appealing college applicant while trying to be a leader in youth group and a model of biblical dating relationships. In college, I had a color-coded planner documenting almost every hour of my day and crammed 134 credit hours into three years with a broken engagement and two family deaths in the mix.
Throughout my life, I’ve struggled with control. I faced mental health challenges and a lot of obstacles because of my desire to control everything and keep everything perfect. My holy desire was to be more like Christ, to excel in what I did, and to be a good friend to everyone. However, this put in me a deeply rooted greed to have everything my way, to never admit my shortcomings, to be a performer instead of a participant in my own life, and to fail to see that anyone else’s way may be better than my own.
This has hurt not only me, but relationships where I forced my way into leadership. The Lord really opened my eyes to that in the first month on the Race. He showed me that I don’t trust people to take care of themselves or to do the best things, so I tend put myself in a position of control or I distance myself so I don’t become dependent on or attached to someone who will let me down.
I’ve taken responsibility for people, harboring weights that were never meant to be mine, because I’ve let the enemy convince me that my way is always best. But I’m realizing that in all of this, my heart was often rooted in selfish desires to be seen, heard, and wanted rather than pointing to the One who is actually in control.
God’s been leading me out of my long-standing desire for control with such patience over the past four months, but it hit me like a freight train in Botswana. Ministry was often not what we expected and several hours later than we anticipated, we sometimes prepared for things that never came, and seemed to enter things that did come completely underprepared. Plans changed, we got robbed, and things happened back at home that I was not there to help with. At the beginning of my month here in Zambia, I was asked to step into a new role I knew nothing about, and out of the role where I felt confident and competent. And it’s been hard for me. I’ve had to learn what it looks like to say “I surrender” and actually let go of the things I’ve been holding onto so tightly for so long and calm down, being still knowing that God actually is worthy of laying it all down.
Through this surrender of control, I’ve started grasping a few truths. One, the Lord doesn’t see me as second-rate. He loves me and chooses me fully, even with my shortcomings, my lacks, and my mistakes. I am never a backup plan or a safety net to Him. Two, His ways are always, ALWAYS better and higher than mine and I don’t have to understand them for that to be true.
