While on the World Race, I found that my monthly, weekly and daily rhythms became both crucial and enjoyable. From daily quiet times to weekly Sabbath to monthly goals and reflections, I prioritized these habits as they created a strong downbeat in the rhythm of my life. Once that structure has been created, playing around with the spaces in between is fun and free.
One of these monthly rhythms was asking God for a word at the start of each month. Usually the intention and perspective of the given word only became clear as the month progressed and I spent time praying and living into it. For example, my word in Nicaragua Month 10 was delight. Written down and forgotten about, this word would not have defined my time in this beautiful but difficult place. However, carrying a banner of delight into each quiet time, prayer time, work time and team time, I was shocked to experience the various ways we can delight in the Lord and was overwhelmed to experience all of the ways He actively, constantly delights in us. In who we are, as we are. Delighting in the Lord became my full-time 24/7 ministry before Him and the outcome was a month I look back on with extreme fondness, tenderness and well, delight!
Going into India on the other hand, God gave me the word discomfort. It was Month 7 and I had spent the previous month in some rough living conditions in Myanmar. Despite the ‘rustic’ experience, the time had been full of incredible conversations, opportunities, and blessings that revealed God’s presence, provision and goodness each minute. So when the word discomfort became highlighted in my spirit and dutifully recorded in my journal, I felt my body and soul gearing up for something similar.
After a hectic and confusing travel day that included our taxi driving the wrong way down the highway, a night bus where the other passengers wouldn’t let any man sit in the empty seat next to me (which I appreciated as respectful protection but also alarmed me that it was necessary), and climbing off said bus in the middle of a night praying our contact would be on the side of the road to pick us up (after a confusing conversation, he was in fact there), we arrived at our apartment.
Although the discomfort word had been appropriate until that point (and had reminded me that God had us in his hands) it looked as if the tough times were behind us. We had mattresses! We had air conditioning! We had WiFi! Heck, we had electricity and real toilets and indoor showers! We had incredibly generous and kind woman who hosted us and had delicious meals made 3 times a day by two more sweet woman and we had Chai breaks! We got to hang out with another American girl who was in India for the summer and living with us, and our assigned ministry working with local women and their daughters was incredible! For all of the mental preparation I had done before arrival about the unpredictability and roughness of village ministry, a month of 100 degree weather, gender issues and safety concerns, I felt myself and the team take a deep breath and relax. We sunk into our mattresses, our clear-cut ministry roles and our heaping plates of rice.
And yet.
My spirit longed for more. You see, my eyes had been opened to the many ways God speaks to me and my ears were accustomed to hearing his voice. Singing a few worship songs a few nights a week did little to satisfy my craving for seeing Jesus face to face. Completing my assigned tasks as a missionary with the organization, fulfilling my duties in my role as a Squad Leader and checking boxes off the list of daily activities was enjoyable and I found God in them. But it wasn’t enough. Because I had a weekly leadership call with my other squad leaders, coaches and mentor, I decided to take the remainder of one day off of scheduled ministry completely, to fast and to pray and to get in God’s face a little and find out what I was missing and how to get it. It was on that day of purposeful, intentional discomfort that I discovered how much God longs with the deep longing of a lover, to give us more and more of himself and how often we shrug and settle for less.
The only thing stopping you from getting more of God is you.
I started waking up each morning and venturing out to the patio and then onto the roof to watch the sunrise each morning. I started singing and dancing before the Lord with a cup of chicory coffee in one hand and the other stretched high for more of Him. I started questioning each activity, thought process and physical habit I turned to when emotional discomfort arose. Decreasing the power of physical discomfort and the decisions it made for me allowed me to see the power that emotional, mental and spiritual discomfort had over me. Power that only belongs to God who loves me and works all things together for my good.
The team around me started picking up on their same inner insatiable thirst for more around the same time. They individually started fasting food, coffee, Wi-Fi, sleep, talking, snacks, electronics, whatever it was they were realizing they depend on more than God. We all have our comforts, these physical things that band-aid our deeper wounds so we don’t have to look at them. They cover and conceal the abyss of a soul that yearns for the universe and a Spirit that hungers for the heavens; desires only God can fill. These comforts prioritize our physical comfort and tell us that once our finances, our bodies, our relationships are taken care of, then we can start to work on deeper things that we know lie underneath the surface.
When we headed into Nepal at the end of the month, I was so proud of our time spent in India. My heart swelled for these sisters of mine who faced their scary, deeper, spiritual hunger and fed it with the abundant meal Jesus provides. Who voluntary pressed into the discomfort for the joy set before us all.
It would’ve been easy to accept these physical realities as blessings from God, or as something I deserved after 6 months on the World Race. It would be even easier to accept America as a privileged nation and the many amenities as a blessing after 11 months on the World Race. “I haven’t had _____ in a year, so now I’ll take two!” #blessed.
The struggle at home has been to accept the physical comforts without bitterness or fear and yet keep my head above their surface, breathing free of swaddling and suffocation. When my head starts spinning with the complexities and complications of American life, fast food is a mile away. When my heart is heavy from being across the country from my squad family who I loved and who loved me so well all year, reality tv provides a numbing distraction. When the loneliness, the emptiness, the brokenness of this beautiful country screams in your face from all forms of media each waking hour, the commercials offer comforts for the emotional pain. Books, Netflix, whiskey, shopping, snacking, sleeping, social media, the list of comforting options is endless for our physical, emotional, mental and spiritual discontent and unease.
My word for January 2018 was pursue. Three weeks in, I think God’s asking me to pursue him through the comfort, through the safety, through the distraction of home. God has so much more to give me, so many more facets of His heart to explain and reveal. Deep in my bones I have a confidence that God longs to give me answers to the mysteries of the universe. He wants to give me more and more of Himself. My confidence comes not from myself or because I am so special, but because He died to clear the path between us. His death was worth my life. His suffering opened my access. My challenge is to never get satisfied and settle for less. I am determined that Jesus will get everything he bought in His own blood. A few days ago, I read Genesis 6:8 “But Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord.” While this typically is read to show God’s perspective, I have this mental image of Noah fighting and straining through the quicksand of sin and temptation and comfort all around him to get himself into the Lord’s face. Like a super fan rushing the stage. Except this star sees them running, grins and opens his arms wide. It was in this place He found favor.
America is sensory overload for what it can offer while simultaneously romanticizing the idea ‘wanderlust’ as if a different location or a new adventure is the answer to the longing. I have danced on a roof in India, paced circles through a muddy field in Myanmar, swung on a hammock in Madagascar, sat at the edge of a brook in South Africa, hiked train tracks in Sri Lanka, watched the sunset over Volcanic lakes in Nicaragua and Guatemala, and seen the waves crash against beaches from Mozambique to El Salvador and the comfort each time was in God right beside me. The only place my spirit finds rest is in the presence of my friend my King my Jesus. And He’s right here.
“The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonders; where morning dawns, where evening faces, you call forth songs of joy” Psalm 65:8
