I felt a growing anticipation for something unknown as I sat in my classroom and listened to the sound of rain drops hitting the roof of the Cambodian preschool I was teaching at. I knew there were curious eyes watching me as I was drawn to the rain falling outside of our tin window. I had tried but failed multiple times to keep my mind from wondering. The sound of the school bell rang throughout the grounds and I watched as the common area filled with games of jump rope and tag. I walked through the crowd making sure to touch the head of each little one that passed by with giddy smiles and sticky fingers.
I found my spot under the staircase and tucked myself away for a moment of seclusion. I heard the faint sound of rain drops turn into a down pour and that same feeling of anticipation returned. I climbed out of my hideaway and walked towards the door. The closer I walked to the entrance, the louder the rain began to ring in my ears. I stepped out of the door and felt the first drops of rain run down my cheek. I walked until my feet were on the stairs that lead to the roof and I began to climb, all the while watching as my clothes collected droplets of water and became drenched. I made it to the top of the building that overlooked the school and the orphanage. At that point, I could no longer tell if it was rain or tears that covered my face. I sat down on the cold rocks that were scattered across the roof and wept.
There sat a girl who had left home and missed her family. There sat a girl who had watched young boys eat out of burned trash piles. There sat a girl who had loved with everything in her and was left broken with every goodbye. There sat a girl who had wiped tears from the eyes of orphans – all the while hiding her own. There sat a girl who had watched a crippled child hold himself up with only a limb from a tree. There sat a girl who had seen people hunger and thirst for more than this world had to offer. There sat a girl who had seen more joy than her heart could handle and more pain than she wanted to admit. There sat a girl who had said goodbye to a friend who had become family. There sat a girl who was tired of pretending she knew exactly who she was. There sat a girl who no longer had it all together.
The mask was off. I was soaking wet and vulnerable before the Lord in surrender. An outward representation of the cleansing that I desperately needed to happen inwardly. And the false self I had spent years holding on to was now falling and forming in puddles around me. Then there stood a girl who finally understood that God was just calling her to Himself. He was calling her to sit under the waterfall of His pleasure and to rest in His presence. To enjoy Him and learn more of Him, and continue growing with Him.
So here I am. A flawed human that is incredibly loved by her Father. I’m not the missionary who has it all together and that’s okay. And as I enter into the abundance of who He is, I become more like Brittany…Brittany in the image of Christ.
