I didn’t know how I would miss Malaysia until it was time to leave. I didn’t know the friends I made until it was time to say goodbye. I didn’t know how to write until we were gone.
There is something about goodbyes that brings everyone together. People rush to say the things they never had the courage to say before. Friends come in for last hugs. Every little detail is sweet and treasured.
A little while ago I sat in the living room in the hostel in Malaysia with my whole team. We were debriefing our week and really our month. We were discussing what we would miss and what we learned. We had already had this discussion before. My initial reaction to hearing what everyone would miss was regret and envy. I didn’t think I would miss Malaysia. I didn’t feel like I had connected with people like the others had. I didn’t feel like my presence in Kuala Lumpur and at the school we worked at had made any difference. I so desperately wanted to feel the same way as the others. I had voved at the beginning of the month not to miss what was right in front of me. I had prayed that God would wreak me, change me, and help me build sweet friendships that would make it hard to say goodbye. Yet at first I couldn’t see what God was doing in Malaysia. The others said they wished we were staying three months in Malaysia. I disagreed, that is until I had to say goodbye.
I thought that everyone else had a meaningful ministry, where they got to build meaningful relationships everyday, while I didn’t. Even though I knew that my little abandoned second story classroom/ makeshift uniform shop was exactly where God had me, it was hard to understand what Jesus was actually showing me. I thought I was missing out on positions that were so much more meaningful, but really there was so much meaning right where I was at.
My uniform shop, yes my uniform shop was frustrating and confusing from the start. It was my second day of ministry and Courtney and I were told to bring all of the uniforms to the upstairs classroom. We brought handful and boxfuls up over and over again. As we thought we were almost done we were told that we would need to find the storage room. In my last blog I told the story of the broken elevator and carry all the boxes down the street. We proceeded to organize the huge mess into sizes and types. Since we only had one shelf we used chairs to hold individual stacks of sizes. I personally held almost every individual packaged uniform at some point. By the time day three of ministry came around I knew the in and out of where all the uniforms were and I was excited to run the shop because of that. There was another volunteer and a teacher helping out in the shop that morning in addition to Courtney and I, but they quickly asked for more help in the front office downstairs. Courtney asked me what I wanted to do, and I shrugged. In truth, at that moment, I wanted to stay. Courtney went down and proceeded to help out in the front office for the rest of the month. Soon a lady, whom I was told later was the boss of all of Dignity, came to check on the “uniform shop.” She introduced herself to me thanked me for my help and had some other volunteers bring in shelves. We spent the next hour reorganizing the uniforms. It was much more confined and tidy when we were done. Those first few days I spent hours getting to know teachers and volunteers who were helping me. We played scrabble, looked through magazines, and talked for hours as there were very few customers. I greatly valued getting to know them and we built friendships very fast. Soon however, it was just me and the uniform shop. I loved it and hated it all in one jumbled passion. I felt proud of what I had basically created, but at the same time it wasn’t my fault at all that we were missing half the sizes and the new stock wouldn’t come until the second week of December. Part of me loved the long hours of alone time but also felt like I was missing creating valuable friendships. I so desperately wanted to serve the families registering at Dignity but I almost always had to explain that we were missing the sizes the kids needed for one or more of the shirts. I felt bad that I could only speak English. Sometimes parents would come in with six kids running around and I was overwhelmed. Communication was always a struggle and our conversations would go back and forth with the same questions and hand motions. I am so grateful for the grace everyone always gave me. Still, it was easy for me to become stressed and overwhelmed. It felt like a job, except I wasn’t getting paid. I would have to stop for a moment in my stress and remind myself why I was there. I was there because I love those people and I love those people because I love God. I was there to serve and love people like Jesus. Did I do that? I have honestly no clue, but I sure as heck tried.
What did I leave behind? I left behind a half stocked uniform shop that I knew like the back of my hand. I left behind an unmanned uniform shop, I tought several teachers how to run it, but the teachers have other things to do before the start of the new year and volunteers are irregular, so I have no idea who will run it, probably someone different every day. I left behind a massive crowd of parents coming back when the new stock comes in. I left behind nothing noteworthy, just the hope that I eased the burden of the front office for a few short weeks. Yet as I left I realized I had touched the heart of many and many had touched my heart, so that I could never ever forget Malaysia or Dignity. I will never forget the many people whose lives intersected so sweetly with mine for that brief season in Malaysia.
As I sat in our living room debriefing with my team I realized for the first time I would miss the dirty mattresses stacked to make a couch. I would miss all the little sometimes exasperating details of Malaysia.
You see even though I struggled to see it, God was changing me during my time in Malaysia. He was working on my heart. In the hours when it was just me, waiting, I read books that changed my outlook on faith, I read the Bible, I journaled, and I reflected. Subtly God began to challenge me. He challenged me to speak up. He helped me begin to find my voice again. He reminded me that he created me to be a leader, however much I may have failed at leadership in the past. He helped me find the start of a self confidence grounded in who He says I am. He showed me how to love more deeply and how to forgive faster. He asked me to step into my freedom and walk out my life in the freedom he bought for me and he challenged me to share that freedom.
Even while I thought I was missing out on friendships God put so many people in my life. I am so grateful for the community that rallied around us at Dignity. I became so close to people even just in the last few days. I realized that I had this assumption that if I couldn’t make lasting friendships then they weren’t true friendships, but as God showed me this month there can be so much value in the friendships you make with people that you know only for just a few short days.
It is easy to disengage and get caught up in the mundane routine of life. It would be easy to walk through life simply going through the motions, but there is so much right in front of us. I got so caught up this month because I didn’t understand the meaning or purpose in what I was doing. I almost missed what was right before me. I didn’t realize what I would miss, what I loved about Malaysia, nor how deeply I loved Malaysia until I had to face saying goodbye. It is so easy to take beautiful things for granted, but what would we appreciate if we lived like we had to leave soon? Tomorrow is not a promise. As hard as it is to say goodbye, hard goodbyes are beautiful because they mean you loved well, built wonderful friendships, saw the beauty, and didn’t miss what was right before you. I am so so grateful my friends and memories in Malaysia.
“There is a legend about Satan and his imps planning their strategy for attacking the world that’s hearing the message of salvation. One of the demons says, ‘I’ve got the plan, master. When I get to earth and take charge of people’s thinking, I’ll tell them there’s no Heaven.’
The devil responds, ‘Ah, they’ll never believe that. This Book of Truth is full of messages about the hope of Heaven through sins forgiven. They won’t believe that. They know there’s a glory yet future.’
On the other side of the room another says, “I’ve got the plan. I’ll tell ’em there’s no hell.”
“No good,” he says. “Jesus while He was on earth, talked more of hell than of Heaven. They know in their hearts that their wrong will have to be taken care of in some way. They deserve nothing more than hell.”
And one brilliant little imp in the back stood up and said, “Then I know the answer. I’ll just tell them there’s no hurry.” And he’s the one Satan chose.” (C. S. Lewis, Screwtape Letters).
