I'm not one to get discouraged particularly easily; in fact, I'd say that remaining joyful and finding the silver lining of most grim situations is one of my gifts. But even the most jovial person has their breaking point, when they've just been knocked down so many times they can't get back up. I hit that point last month.
If you didn't read my last blog about the situation with my eyes, click here and read it before you read the rest of this, just so you can know the background.
What I didn't explain in the last blog was the extent of these problems and all the issues that stemmed from them. The worst part wasn't the pain. It wasn't the redness or swelling. It wasn't even the weird goop they produced all night and day. It was that over and over again, when my eyes would clear up after a few days, I believed with all my heart that I was healed, only to try my contacts and have them blow up once more. I would have much rather had them remain in their painful state, rather than to feel the happiness of thinking I was healed just to have those hopes dashed.
Plus I missed out. Some days, the swelling and burning was so intense that the only relief I had was to lay in bed with a wet, cold t-shirt over my face and sleep. Between these days and doctors' visits, throughout the month I probably missed close to a week's worth of ministry days, including the day when my whole team did house visits together in the afternoon. Great. Team bonding minus one team member. Yay.
Even my off days suffered. Since I couldn't wear my contacts and was stuck in my glasses, group activities such as caving and scuba diving were a no go.
Eventually, I was knocked down so many times that I felt like I couldn't get up: "What kind of missionary am I if I'm not even going out and sharing God's love with the people?" "My supporters have put so much time and effort into getting me here, and for what?" "It's not even like I'm getting in any extra Q.T. with J.C. like I could if I was just sick because all I can do is sleep." "Why am I even here if I'm just laid up in bed with my eyeballs about to burst?" "DO I EVEN HAVE A PURPOSE HERE?" "JESUS, what the heck do I do?!" (I've realized recently I ask Him that question a lot…)
Every month up until that point, I had had at least one of those "AHA!" moments where the Lord showed me exactly why he had brought me to that place. But the Lord reminded me that I'm not entitled to that; I had become so used to seeing fruit and knowing what my purpose was, that I began to believe I had the right to this kind of insight from Him. Wrong. What makes us think that we deserve to know God's purpose in everything He does, everywhere He places us, and everything He has us do? Let me tell you something that might be hard to hear-we are people. He is God. He's a flawless, holy, and all-knowing God. We don't deserve anything from Him and anything He chooses to give us is purely by His grace, including any knowledge of or insight to His good and perfect plan for our lives. His ways are NOT our ways. If He so decides that we go through a season of not knowing and walking where it seems dark, then so be it. We then choose to trust, to carry on believing that the Lord has His hand on our situation and our efforts even if we don't know who, what, when, where, why, or how. Isn't that what faith is?
