I’m sitting on a bus in a seat next to my yoga mat, and we’re headed to Phnom Penh—not me and my yoga mat… me and two-thirds of N squad.
We arrived in Siem Riep, Cambodia three days ago, after traveling 26 hours from Chiang Mai, Thailand. And three days ago, I think I was more tired than I’ve ever been. My spirit, mind and body seemed completely shot. I had no desire to worship or sit and pray, no desire to read or write, and no desire (or energy) to wake up early or do yoga.
I was frustrated because I didn’t want to do any of the things that are typically such a big part of my day.
I was frustrated with the heat. Thailand is seriously the hottest place I’ve ever been in my life. I wasn’t sleeping well, and I often couldn’t concentrate on anything other than my body temperature.
I was frustrated with my schedule. I prefer to go to bed early and wake up early, and I prefer consistency. Those things make me feel better. My focus is better. My balance is better. I eat better. And as a result, I’m in the Word and more prepared to face whatever the day has in store. But our ministry schedule in Thailand started early on some days and finished late on others. I found myself incapable of settling into any semblance of a routine.
I was frustrated with people. We lived with three other teams—two from our squad, and one from another AIM group. People drain the energy from me. I really do love community and conversation, but I need breaks. (Shout out to all of my fellow introverts!)
The more frustrated I became, the less driven I was to do the things I love… the things I need. Even if I forced myself to pray or read or journal or do yoga, I can’t say I gave it my whole heart. I just wanted things that would make me feel better—things like certain people and foods, social media and daydreams.
As I sought comfortability and momentary joy, I was: 1) numbing myself to the present and 2) preventing myself from pressing into the growth opportunities God so mercifully places before me. Nestling into a comfort zone can keep me from doing the things that feed me spiritually, and before I know it, I’m starving.
By the end of our month in Thailand, I felt beaten. I was still standing on two feet, of course… because I’m stubborn. But I was ready to fall over. Then I got sick with this crazy head cold and had to spend a day inhaling recirculated bus air.
Solomon said in Proverbs 20:30, “Blows and wounds cleanse away evil, and beatings purge the inmost evil.”
Those are some strong words. No one wants to admit she has evil living in the inmost parts of herself. But the words are true. There’s some nasty stuff inside me, and when God wants to take it away, I fight Him for it… nearly every time.
I want to hold onto my crap.
Why? Who the heck knows. Logically speaking, no one should want to hold onto their junk. But we do it. We hold on so tightly that, sometimes, God lets us take a beating. He has to let us reach maximum capacity… because if there are any traces of our own strength left in us, we won’t listen. We’ll garner every human ability we have, and we’ll walk on—with or without Him.
We want change without enduring the refining process. We want the reward without doing the work.
I used to think that was an American thing. Now I know it’s a human thing. We’re crazy… basically all of us. The next time I try to play God, I’m going to remind myself that God is responsible for shepherding 900,000 bajillion crazy people. No, thank you.
I woke up after our first night in Cambodia. I had slept in a bed in an air conditioned guest house, and for the first time in a long time, I was totally rested. I stepped out of my room and what felt like back into myself. I walked down a long, quiet hallway. Soft morning sun was peering through the windows. Huge wooden doors lined both walls. I walked barefoot on the marble floors and admired the dark wood paneling on the ceiling. I felt more like me than I had in a long time. Attentive, peaceful, strong.
You’re ok, Julie. But next time, seek Me. Amidst your frustration, find Me.
I made my way to the lobby and had fresh fruit and hot black tea for breakfast. (You’ll be happy to know I’m weening myself off green tea lattes. Thank you, Thailand, for my addiction to tea-flavored condensed milk.) I ate pineapple and papaya and debated whether or not to skip the Angkor Wat outing that I promised to attend the night before. Everyone kept talking about how it was one of the Seven Wonders of the World, so I felt like I needed to go. But since I was feeling like myself again, any FOMO that had snuck its way into my brain had, by this point, fled.
I quickly googled the Seven Wonders of the World and didn’t see Angkor Wat on any of the lists. That solidified my decision to stay home. I had never heard of Angkor Wat before arriving in Cambodia anyway, and all of a sudden, sleeping off my head cold and begging the question, “Why is there more than one Seven Wonders of the World list?” seemed like more appropriate uses of my afternoon.
Anyway, I didn’t go to Angkor Wat, and my point is—I want to be consistent and steadfast, despite my environment or circumstance. Despite FOMO, geography, other people, weather, schedules, living conditions, traffic, loss, disease and so on.
I want to pray and read and write and eat healthy and do yoga regardless of my physical conditions. I want to make space for quiet time, even in the midst of social chaos. I don’t want to walk around battling frustration, exhaustion and apathy. And I don’t want to do things or go places just because I think I probably should.
I know I want to go to Stockholm because ever since I saw a picture of the city on a cover of Conde Nast, I’ve wanted to wind through the cobblestone streets in winter clothes in search of great coffee shops and boutiques. I know I want to Amtrak the U.S. because I want to travel up the East Coast to Montreal and see wild horses in the Tetons. I know I want to go to Argentina and search for incredible malbec. I know I want to spend several days bicycling from Pisa to Tuscany, stopping at vineyards along the way. I know I want to see the coastline in Croatia and the mountains in Ireland. I know I want to do yoga in Bali. And I know I want to trek Easter Island.
I want to learn about jewelry-making and take some marketing design classes. I want to study Spanish. I want to have a garden one day. I want to learn more about eating an Ayurvedic diet. I want bookshelves in my home, and I want to adopt. I want to author a blog some day. I want to design stationery and do women’s ministry. I want to own a coffee shop that sells ice cream and cool stuff from around the world. I want to fund missions and make smoothies. I want five or six dogs and a horse.
I want to encourage people, and I want to bend to God’s teaching instead of fighting Him every step of the way. I want to invest in my relationships. I want to use my giftings to build up the people around me. I want to be an example of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control. I want to spend time praying into my future. I want to help communities and other women. I want to process my past so I can have a healthy, mature present. I want to be aware of myself and of what I need so I can be a giver instead of a taker. I want to pursue relationship with Jesus Christ above all else. I want to seek first His Kingdom.
Our squad coach, Betsy, always says to hug your story. Well, this is my story—the story of a girl on a bus in Cambodia with big dreams and an even bigger God. And I’m going to hug it, palms open, because I only get one chance to live it well.
“I will tell the world. I will tell them where I’ve been. I will keep my word. I will tell them, Albertine. Now that I have seen. I am responsible. Faith without deeds is dead.” –Albertine, Brooke Fraser
Dream big and love bigger,
Julie
