The enemy has come to kill, steal, and destroy.
The enemy killed my ambition.
The enemy stole my joy.
The enemy destroyed my hope.
The enemy has come, and he’s not taking no for an answer.
I knew the end was coming. I knew that I would eventually pack my bag and say my goodbyes. I knew I had to do it, and I knew it had to be done. The time came, and it was devastating. There were moments when I had to stop everything I was doing just to cry. There were moments when I felt like I was buried under a concrete slab with only a straw to breathe out of. It was miserable.
Every tear, every goodbye, every breath felt like I was mourning the death of whatever I was saying goodbye to. It felt like everyone I loved was in a tragic accident and they were suddenly ripped from my existence. In a moment I realized how much I dreaded The World Race. I no longer felt the excitement that kept me persevering throughout this last year. I no longer felt the desire to serve like I once was so sure I was called to. I had no sense of hope of seeing a brighter day.
I was sad, quickly falling into a state of depression. I wanted to crawl into my bed, and wish away the application process that I once was so anxious about. I began to think about how much trouble it would be to call it quits. I started begging God to take me out of the mess. I didn’t know where the mess came from, but I knew that I was knee deep in it.
Friends came and went, leaving me in a bigger mess than when they found me. By Wednesday night, the night before I was to leave for launch, I was in pieces. I started believing the lies. I started believing that everything was going to change. I started to think that I was losing these precious people around me. I starting believing that I really was mourning these relationships, because, in a sense, they were about to die. I couldn’t even imagine the day when I would land back in the states. When I tried, all I saw was myself walking through the basement doors to my house with a white, hazyd smog around me. Everything I once had known to be home was gone. It was all different.
Then I realized that I WAS mourning their deaths. I was mourning the death of who they are, and myself, in Christ at that moment because they are continually growing in who they are. I was mourning our relationship because it won’t be the same when I return. I was mourning the death of who I was at that moment. Everything WILL change. My friends WILL change. Our relationships WILL change.
…and it’s going to be the most beautiful journey ever. How would we grow in Christ if we didn’t allow ourselves to change and the relationships around us to change? Of course everything will be different when I return, and why shouldn’t it be?
