In between training camp and launch, I stopped by my grandparents house to visit. It’s one of my favorite places to go and just rant, my Grandma is such a good listener I could sit there for 2 hours while she nods thoughtfully, squints at the weird stuff, and laughs with me at the unfortunate (but really, REALLY funny) things. I told my grandma and grandpa all about training camp, and everything that had already happened after the fact. God must have a sense of humor, my life is chalk full of the craziest stories and events. Once I finally took a break, my Grandma looked at me and smiled. She told me I was a good storyteller, and I reminded her a lot of some of our relatives who’ve since passed, but loved to tell stories. She said that even if I had the most boring life possible, the way I tell the story if what makes it so different. Of course I was flattered, but brushed it off quickly. My life is really just that wild/laughable, I just tell it how it is. But as every grandma, she insisted. “No, I love hearing your stories, you should tell them more. Are you writing them down? After 9 months you’ll surely have a lot to tell. Make sure to write them all down for me.”
I’ve been journaling during the entire race so far, as most people do. I’ve picked it up here and there at home, but being abroad as completely re-taught me how important it is to tell your story. At home I’d quickly get bored of journaling everyday things, since typically it’s the same and not a lot changes on the daily. But now, I’ve been able to see how even though our days can be simple and appear the same, they can also be so SO different. Each and every DAY we have a new thing we can choose to be thankful for. It really opens your mind to the world around you, and makes you appreciate it much more greatly.
During our first week of ministry in Nepal, I was asked to share a short message/testimony with a small group of people during church Saturday morning. I HATE public speaking. HATE it. Even though there were seriously only about 15 people, I still get nervous at the thought. I can hardly speak to someone one-on-one let alone multiple people all at once. But, at some point during our month here I knew my turn would come around, so I decided to just go for it, and jump in fully. I had about 45 minutes to prepare whatever I was about to prepare, and then share it. Hmm. Umm. What to talk about, what to talk about. I only had about 10 minutes tops, since we’d have to also account for translation time when I spoke. Randomly, someone threw out the idea that I could share my testimony of why I cut my hair. Oh, duh! Silly me, that’s an easy one. I wrote down my notes as quickly as possible and was (semi) ready to go. When I went up front to share, oh BOY did the nerves come flooding. Mid message I was seriously regretting my choice of topic. At one point, the people even started laughing and chuckling a bit. In Swazi, basically all the women had shaved heads, so my haircut was widely welcomed. But in Nepal, it was crazy. Why would you ever do that, shave your head? I suddenly felt very self conscience and embarrassed. Still, I finished out the rest of my message, and sat down defeated. “I should I done it differently, no, I should have done something other than that story.” I never wanted to speak like that ever again. Ever.
Over the week of Christmas, our 2 teams travelled a few hours away from the city and into the mountains. We tented and visited with the people in the villages there, hiking so much, and got to spend a lot of time resting and reflecting. One night as we sat around the campfire, our hosts asked us to share about our experience living in Nepal, and how it’s grown/affected our relationships with the Lord. When I shared, I told them I’ve been able to learn how to lean into the Lord for comfort and support when I needed it most, and that I’ve been able to learn here how to trust Him more completely. One of our hosts, Papa, used that time to encourage me. He speaks little to no English, so it had to be translated back and forth, but still was one of the sweetest things (Papa is the cutest, most adorable person I’ve ever met in my entire life).
He said that back in the city when I had shared my testimony about my hair, he felt God leading him to speak words of encouragement to me, but hadn’t gotten the chance in that moment. He said the God is blessing me through my obedience and by that I am now able to see the fruit of it and experience His goodness, beauty, and worth I have in Him. My heart felt so full, it was such a blessing to be able to hear that.
Even though we shy away in the moment, in the end you never know how God can use you life to work in the lives of others. It might touch many people, but it also might only sit with one person in a crowd of hundreds of people. And honestly, even if it doesn’t resonate with anyone, how cool it is that you still have so many wonderful testimonies of the Lord and His goodness! Even with this blog, I felt a pressure of making it perfect and interesting, when really you only need to tell it like it is, and let God do the rest. Often there’s a pretty large weight of delivering a well thought, planned, and nice/neat message all tied up with a bow. Which isn’t bad, but not necessary. Of course you should put thought into whatever you bring to the table, but whatever you bring is good enough just how it is. No need for fancy bows, just bring the plain cardboard box. Let God decorate it however He wants to in order for the receiver to accept the gift.
