Entering our neighborhood for the duration of our month in Nepal felt a little bit like I was writing a sad song in my head that I didn’t really know the words to yet. I don’t know if I was feeling the weight of leaving India, the burden of new & different national issues & struggles, that familiar melancholy ache of missing family & friends, or thinking about the small troubles in everyday life that God commands us not to worry about, but I was sullen at best upon arrival, which disappointed me…
I was surrounded by a new & unique culture.
I was surrounded by the Himalayas & a vibrant city.
It was a fresh month to do what I know God has called me to do.
I was exactly where I should be according to His plan.
So why should I feel uneasy?
I don’t know. It could have been the street boys I had met in & on our way out of Thamel. It could have been the people I saw sleeping on the sidewalks. It could have been the earthquake statistics. It could have been the general lack of Jesus…but I don’t know. And maybe I don’t get to know…but I assume my sadness had something to do with the fact that my focus had shifted from Jesus to something else, in the same way it’s wavering right now…as I cold sweat through this blog post, & try to consume my first meal in 48 hours after an unrelenting bout of vomiting & diarrhea (TMI).
I actually ended up having to alarmingly leave my computer after the above paragraph & puke all over the bathroom at this coffee shop, then make the 5-minute trek home praying for my stomach to calm. Thank God for Asian toilets equipped with little butt sprayers & drains on the ceramic floor to make clean-up quick & easy when missing the toilet with vomit.
Today is a new day, & I’m back pounding the keys trying to salvage an awe-inspiring conclusion of Nepal, but to be honest…life isn’t consistently awe-inspiring. Sometimes it’s clothing yourself with the armor of God & holding onto whispers of Truth in the valley that assaults you with it’s noise. I started off in Nepal getting back up off the ground after falling. And I’m not trying to be poetic here…literally…as we prepared to leave our hostel in India & board our flight I fell down the stairs with my packs strapped to my body & sprained both my ankles. Lol.
I started off immobile. Resting. Still.
That’s hard for me.
And these past few days, aside from repeatedly running to the bathroom in haste, I was…immobile. Resting. Still.
Now I had the choice: I could focus on broken ankles & diarrhea, or I could focus on Jesus.
It’s a hard place to be but I feel like if my Father’s going to allow double ankle injuries & the worst virus I’ve had in years in the same month…maybe He’s trying to teach me a lesson about resting. About being still. About remaining focused on Him in a constant barrage of distraction.
Because being still & doing nothing are two very different things.
You can be immobile & still be very deeply moved.
Doing nothing will produce nothing. The lazy do not roast any game, but the diligent feed on the riches of the hunt (Proverbs 12:27).
Being still does produce something. Standing satisfied & still before God is a pretty common leeway to genuine contentment.
Being still looks a little bit more like…
Beholding my beloved, & being content on the other side of the testimony He’s given me, the side where I’m okay & where all I have to do in the moment is stand before Him full, where I don’t have to prove anything to anybody.
Where I can just lie down in green pastures for a while.
Beside quiet waters (Psalm 23).
Being still seems like Psalm 131:2…
“But I have calmed & quieted myself, I am like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child I am content.”
Being still is acknowledging all the issues, not ignoring them, but also not being consumed by them.
I can sit in Nepal with the reality of false gods ever before me.
I can sit here aware of the tragic history of this country & the political corruption.
I can sit here cognizant of the human trafficking, orphaning & the oppression as a result of the caste-system.
I can know these things, I can grieve these things, I can intercede with these things at the centre, but I should still be able to be still.
Be unshakable.
Be held by my God.
To shift my focus from the temporal troubles to the longstanding Truth.
I can even sit here looking at fleeting things.
How hard it is to live in one house with 50 people.
How hard it is to move from ministry to ministry, not really feeling like you’re making a lasting impact.
How difficult it is to feel so small in an immensely screwed-up world.
How heartbreaking it is to say goodbye to AMAZING ministry hosts, & beautiful families who you’ve begun to feel part of.
How awesome ministry was here, teaching English in the slums.
How therapeutic it was studying beautiful humans on the bus, pondering the life of the ten-year old boy who takes cash & communicates to passengers & bus-driver all that he needs to with whistles & bangs on the bus walls each day.
How irritating it is for men here to be split 50/50 between publicly voicing their opinions on either how beautiful or fat I am.
I can know these things, I can see these things, but I still better be able to be still, to swell up with these things too big for me to hold…& then release them back to my Lord & recognize that He’s got every place in His hands, from Ottawa to Kathmandu.
And sometimes my responsibility is to grow up before Him, not to be an antsy, restless little kid anymore.
But to learn to stand before Him content & still, regardless of whereabouts.
Or really, regardless of anything.
I watched a movie today as I laid on my sleeping mat with my tummy gurgling, & my heart leapt because this movie was set in India. I thought about how much I miss it, & how it seems I’ve left a little piece of myself there to go get later on, how maybe God will call me back there, but ultimately…how I have absolutely no idea at this point.
I look out at the city…I don’t know how to reconcile the chaos of this place with the majesty of the mountains & fog that hem it in.
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel right now.
There’s some things I don’t understand & never will.
Still…I choose to be still.
