So this past month I have been living in a little town, far into the mountain ranges of Southeast Asia. Sorry to be so protective over the town’s name and country, but above everything it is our heart to protect the ministry host and ministry that is so willingly partnering with us. In many parts of the world, the Bible and Christianity isn’t as accepted as it is in the western world, or even accepted at all. It’s the first time in my life I have ministered in a culture that is not accepting at times of differences, and that has been a battle to navigate. But it has also put a new sense of urgency into my heart. A new spirit of knowing we have to fight for the gospel, and that is something I have said yes to as a Christian. Ministry here has looked like many different things. We started the month anticipating teaching at a local school for the month, but after arriving we discovered that the school only had three days left until winter break, so we had to shift our plans a little. We taught school for three days. I had a class of 8th graders who really were such a blessing. There were 4 of them and each were very different and unique. It reminded me a lot of my friends and I when we were growing up. They asked important questions that a lot of people are scared to ask. Like, “What is the Holy Spirit, what happened to Jesus’s parents, what is prayer?” And so many more. They were eager to learn and took everything in like a sponge, and it is a blessing to get to call those kids my friends now. They asked about our families, and they asked me about the hurt of growing up in a home without a dad. They cared about us, and we cared about them, and that cultivated vulnerability and friendship. I so wish I had more time with them, but I will forever call them my friends and I know they will grow up to be a generation fighting for the gospel and sharing His truth. The Lord is going to do big things through them, I already know.
After school let out we shifted into an ATL month. This looked like gathering as a team and worshipping in the morning, and praying over the day and in turn listening to what the Lord was asking of us for the day. He lead our team in many different directions over the month. I spent days reaching out to my friends and family at home, days building relationships with the waiters at our favorite coffee shop that we got all of our meals at, worshipping in the street outside our hostel, and handing our art pieces to women on the streets. It looked like depending on the Lord each morning, and fully diving into His word and my relationship with Him. It looked like getting to catch up with family members at home over Christmas Eve and Christmas. It was so many good things. But it was also very hard. Many things were challenging here, from the language barrier to the limited amount of food choices. I am not sure I will ever like fried noodle again. But I am learning that each season is both good and hard, and that’s what is so special about it. Each season is designed by the Lord for specific purposes and some may be lighter than others, but they are all good.
I am thankful for my time here in this little mountain town, and will never forget the way the mountains remind me of Heaven. I will hold on to the sweet relationships I have made here and hope to never loose my fire for sharing the gospel, especially when the world says no. This season was special and short, but well appreciated and documented. I will look back in my journals one day and read of all the lessons the Lord taught me here and all the things He walked me through and look back in nostalgia on the mountains I will never be able to describe in enough beauty as they deserve.
