Okay, friends, honest hour time.
Last weekend I’m pretty sure I cried for 24 hours straight (read: 24 hours too long). After wrapping up our time on The Farm, my team headed to a YWAM hospitality house in Chiang Mai. Let me tell you, do YWAMers have this missionary thing down right. We’re talking dryers, a ping pong table, beds, and most importantly, no septic tank to help fertilize their plants. Also, our team was reunited with one other team for the night. AKA my extroverted dream.
Now despite such luxuries, I was less than thrilled. I would like to call this mental breakdown my Oh-My-Gosh-I-Have-8-More-Months-Of-This Realization. We are talking ugly Kim K crying. Essentially, ALL of the things hit. 8 more months of getting bad news from home and not being able to do a thing about it, 8 more months of “fake it till ya make it,” 8 more months of my sleeping pad, and perhaps the most tragic, 8 more months without my dogs. In sum, 8 more months of no comfort.
Here’s the thing- this is exactly what I signed up for. And by sign up I mean had a few arguments with God before reluctantly agreeing to apply. Nonetheless, I knew what was coming. In my first blog on the field I wrote, “They say every Racer goes through 6 phases. Phase one? Abandonment. Abandon everything. Your home, your lifestyle, your friends, your family. Abandon comfort. I’d like to say this step is complete but deep down I know I have a long way to go.”
This first step was definitely completed in India.
But phase 2 is brokenness. According to the World Race Parent Guide, “This moving out of the old leads into a season of insecurity and questioning. They can no longer rely on someone else’s belief system or experiences. In order to make their faith their own they must be willing to embark on a treacherous journey of faith toward God. It is a transition and, although scary and painful, it is absolutely necessary.” Painful is an understatement.
Brokenness came in hot during Nepal. And Thailand. And now Cambodia. In Nepal my body was WRECKED. I got the stomach flu (twice), a parasite, was admitted to the hospital for leg paralysis, and got lice. In Thailand, my heart was. I mourned the death of my friend’s brother, I sobbed finding out a dear friend is very sick, I saw a woman’s flesh being eaten by ants, and I desperately called out to God with (seemingly) no response. In Cambodia I just sit in my brokenness while (attempting) to teach English to 42 orphans.
In the last 9 weeks I have questioned God more than ever before. I can’t rely on my mentors to provide an answer for me. Instead, I have to find them myself. Finding them often requires not only Biblical exegesis but introspection. You have to look at the pain from your entire life and not just acknowledge it, but feel it. And it hurts. It hurts a lot.
During this phase you hear a lot of “Christianese” sayings like “it’s about the process.” (Shoutout to my girl Amaris for never failing to tell me this). But you know what? I’m a destination kind of kid- when I say I’ll do something I’ll work my hardest to get it done. I don’t care what it takes to get there as long as I get there. Now I’m on my sleeping pad under a bug net in Cambodia wondering when the heck phase 2 will be done. What more has to happen for brokenness to be done? When will I not be in so much pain? When will I feel God’s comfort? Where the heck is He?
All of these questions naturally require that I dig to find the answers. And while I can’t dig my way to all of the answers, I can dig to one answer: Where the heck is He?
Rather than turn this blog into an entire essay, I will be posting this answer in the coming weeks as a sort of sermon. Stay tuned!
