Hey there. Remember me? It’s okay if you don’t. It’s been a while. As a refresher, I’m the girl that ran off around the world and promised to write, but never did. I won’t make excuses. I’m here now though, and I’d love for you to sit here with me for a while.
My hammock sways in the breeze on this uncharacteristically chilly Laos morning. Roosters remind me of the time while the sun starts to bring the world around me to life. The trees spring from the shadows, as the golden rays fall upon their waxy leaves. The air is crisp, the kind of crisp that you can feel moving through you, filling every part of your eager lungs. My mind drifts to memories, and the vastness of this great big world shrinks, if only for a second.
By the time we landed in Nepal, I had made a deal with God. I was going to fast everything but water for 3 days, and He was going to give me clarity. It sounded fair to me, but He had other plans. The truth is I had no idea where to start. I stumbled onto this race with way more baggage than a backpack and not even the faintest idea of what I was searching for. I could paint a pretty picture for friends and family, sprinkling in words like purpose and called, but what I really needed was for this race to fix me.
By the end of my fast He made it clear that I needed to start with trust, and so I tattooed it on my wrist because I had no idea how to tattoo it on my heart. Throughout the rest of month I hesitantly started walking through the hurts I had been avoiding, all the while not realizing in every tear and sleepless night He was revealing His heart to me. In Thailand, without me noticing, he destroyed the box my expectations had put Him in. He met me exactly where I was, just like He always had.
I spent so much of these last 3 months trying to pick up the pieces of a life I once knew. Desperately reaching for something, anything, to hold on to. Most days I felt completely unwound. I felt like He was bringing me to the edge of myself. All of a sudden, there I was at the fringe of 24 years of experiences, and I jumped. I can’t tell you when it happened. I’m just certain it did.
Behind me was everything I thought I knew, and in front of me was a promise.
A shift was happening, and before I could even explain it, I was resting in the questions instead of asking them. I was listening for His heart instead of trying to figure out my own. I let go of my expectations and fell headlong into a spirit of expectancy. Trust didn’t solve all my problems. It taught me to look beyond them, and when I did, I saw a Father that’s been patiently waiting to stare into His daughter’s eyes and tell her just how loved she really is.
And you know what? For the first time in my life, I believe Him.
