Through forgotten convictions,
Misplaced affections,
I’m losing the sound of your voice.
I’ve been chasing after emptiness,
Trying to tidy up this mess,
I swear I’ve been down this road before.
Misplaced affections,
I’m losing the sound of your voice.
I’ve been chasing after emptiness,
Trying to tidy up this mess,
I swear I’ve been down this road before.
I’m a deflating balloon. That’s how I described myself last night. This month here in the Philippines, while there were many amazing moments, has been one that ground us all down with hectic schedules in which we never really got to know anyone we were working with very well. Everything changed daily, we could never seem to communicate with people even though we were all speaking english, nothing was ever what we expected – from pick up times to ministry to what was required of us – and on top of all that we were in a new team dynamic with people that we weren’t used to and weren’t used to us. We did our best, we came together, and we persevered through it all; but emotions, spirits, and bodies are all at the ends of themselves. God is teaching us a lot through it I think, like how to rely on Him for energy and drive in all things, but they’re not easy lessons this time. For me, I’m not even sure what the lesson is.
When I sit still I can feel my brain processing things. Actually, I don’t have to be sitting still – whatever I’m doing my brain is only half engaged as it does it’s own thing elsewhere. Different moments from the last month flicker across the movie screen in my head, different things that bothered me, things that I could have done or said, ministries we had, messages I shared that came from nowhere, people I met, how I’ve changed in the last six months, how I haven’t – anything at all really. At the same time I know that God is working on me, taking me into another stage of my walk with Him. I’m not even sure how I know that, I just do, like I can feel Him guiding me, and some part of me understands His direction and is following, but it’s not my conscious self. Like I’m stepping forward with my eyes closed. I can’t make sense of any of it yet. God’s working on something in me, my brain is processing a whole bunch of things from the look of it, and I’m sitting here in an empty room hesitantly calling out ‘Hello?…Anyone there?’ and getting only my echo as a reply. I’d like to know what’s going on, even just enough to know what I should be doing or not doing in order to facilitate the process, but so far it’s just the deflating balloon feeling. Like everything that’s been packed into me over the last little while is being let out slowly through a small opening because going any faster would require bursting the balloon.
Thankfully God has provided a safe harbour in which to do this. I’m sitting in a common area at Jeff Long’s in Manila (we arrived here Wednesday morning) as I write this while about 10 of my sisters here are having a cookie bake off. I helped a bit and got to lick some spoons! There’s a full sized Christmas tree behind me with a few presents beneath it, the banister on the stairwell is wrapped with greenery and poinsettias, people have been opening packages from home, Christie’s family is on their way here from the airport right now, and June team will be joining us in a couple days. We’ve been watching Charlie Brown Christmas, It’s a Wonderful Life, and listening to Christmas music, and if it weren’t for the 30 C weather I could really start to think it’s Christmas time. I think there’s nothing more relaxing than the sense of family and love that comes with the Christmas season, and I can’t think of a better atmosphere in which to seek out God’s will.
It may be a temporary one, but there’s no place like home for the holidays.
When I sit still I can feel my brain processing things. Actually, I don’t have to be sitting still – whatever I’m doing my brain is only half engaged as it does it’s own thing elsewhere. Different moments from the last month flicker across the movie screen in my head, different things that bothered me, things that I could have done or said, ministries we had, messages I shared that came from nowhere, people I met, how I’ve changed in the last six months, how I haven’t – anything at all really. At the same time I know that God is working on me, taking me into another stage of my walk with Him. I’m not even sure how I know that, I just do, like I can feel Him guiding me, and some part of me understands His direction and is following, but it’s not my conscious self. Like I’m stepping forward with my eyes closed. I can’t make sense of any of it yet. God’s working on something in me, my brain is processing a whole bunch of things from the look of it, and I’m sitting here in an empty room hesitantly calling out ‘Hello?…Anyone there?’ and getting only my echo as a reply. I’d like to know what’s going on, even just enough to know what I should be doing or not doing in order to facilitate the process, but so far it’s just the deflating balloon feeling. Like everything that’s been packed into me over the last little while is being let out slowly through a small opening because going any faster would require bursting the balloon.Thankfully God has provided a safe harbour in which to do this. I’m sitting in a common area at Jeff Long’s in Manila (we arrived here Wednesday morning) as I write this while about 10 of my sisters here are having a cookie bake off. I helped a bit and got to lick some spoons! There’s a full sized Christmas tree behind me with a few presents beneath it, the banister on the stairwell is wrapped with greenery and poinsettias, people have been opening packages from home, Christie’s family is on their way here from the airport right now, and June team will be joining us in a couple days. We’ve been watching Charlie Brown Christmas, It’s a Wonderful Life, and listening to Christmas music, and if it weren’t for the 30 C weather I could really start to think it’s Christmas time. I think there’s nothing more relaxing than the sense of family and love that comes with the Christmas season, and I can’t think of a better atmosphere in which to seek out God’s will.
It may be a temporary one, but there’s no place like home for the holidays.
