It’s Month 10 for me on the Race, as many of you know, and I have reached a brick wall of exhaustion. My body is tired. My brain is tired. I’m emotionally tired. I’m just, tired. Amongst this cocktail of exhaustion, I’m feeling much more of the weight of what I’ve experienced this past year.
I’m sorry that this blog isn’t going to be filled with rainbows, butterflies, and dandelions…but it will be filled with the truth of how I am feeling and what the Lord is doing in my heart right now.
If I can be honest, I don’t even know how to properly write this blog right now. I’m struggling with words, but something inside of me says I need to write it. I do a fairly good job at silver lining situations and sharing the positives because I don’t want everything to be heavy and dreary…but the heavy stuff is just as important as the “light” stuff.
This month, I’ve been processing what I’ve experienced mainly in India-my first country on the Race. The things that I saw and heard is insane. I went on prayer walks in the city of Hyderabad, seeing where they made animal sacrifices to their Hindu Gods. I saw children begging for money-most likely because they are in a human trafficking ring-and feeling helpless walking by. We went to homes where they had no clue who Jesus was, all they were interested in is if we had powers as white people that could heal them. If our God could do the tricks they were looking for. We met families where they asked us if we could pray for them to have a male child, because having a female child isn’t favorable in India culture. I heard testimonies of fathers attempt to poison their daughters, their wives and much more. I met a widow who could not leave her house for a set amount of time because of the traditions in her city. I met college girls hungry for rights to be seen as a human equal to the men of India. I sat and listened to these people, cried with these people, prayed for these people…and then…I left
In Nepal, we went to a church where the “untouchables” were and we would walk by homes where there would be children that were just skin and bones lying on the ground, just weak. I saw street boys in the city that were most likely high off of glue and had razor blades in their sleeves to protect their selves. I saw people rebuilding churches after the earthquake. I built relationships with people in the ministry and churches…and then…I left.
In Cambodia, the Lord grew my heart for kids with special needs. I fell in love with the kids I had the opportunity to do ministry with, and felt heart break over some of their stories. I held them, I helped them try new things, I prayed for them…and then, I left.
I could list all of the things I experienced in all of the countries I’ve been to…and the last sentence will be the same…I left. It’s hard seeing other human beings, in another part of the globe, that have or is experiencing so much trauma and dealing with things you can’t begin to comprehend…but then realizing when you leave, they are going to be left still dealing with what they are going through. When you leave, your contact for the month is still fighting the fight of faith in that country and fighting for the people they are reaching out to.
The fact of the matter is, no matter what type of “uncomfortable” thing I’ve experienced this year could never, in my life time, measure up to some of the travesties people fight with every day and go through. Or, the missionaries that stay in one fixed place for a chunk of their life away from their families, friends and comforts…and usually not getting any recognition for what they do. The fact of the matter is, by time this is over, I will have experienced 11 different countries…11 different cultures…saw the darkness people are walking through…and will have left to go back to America-the land of comfort.
I’m honestly struggling right now, guys. I have seen such intense poverty here in Haiti and it’s breaking my heart. I’ve seen kids walk around with tattered-to no clothing, malnourished with fevers. I’ve held them, I’ve yearned to do more for them, but when it’s time to go back to the compound-I sit them down…I get in the vehicle…and I leave..and they’re still there.
Even though I am just now feeling the heaviness of these things, I still know there’s so much hope for this world and His name is Jesus. Even when people leave…He is always there. The body of Christ is alive and well across the globe…and they don’t leave. They are fighting for their people. There is extreme, unexplainable brokenness in this world that can only be remedied by an extreme, unexplainable Savior. He is compelling His body to make moves..to love the orphan, the widow…and to stay. And for those that leave-He compels them to share.
I’m not sure if this blog makes sense. I am sure that I want to strive to seek the Lord and ask Him where He wants me and how can I be apart of His plan to heal a dying world. It’s impossible for any of us to do it alone. When I leave, I don’t want to be in despair over the travesties in this world, but motivated to know that I serve a God of great hope and that He never leaves His people.
I encourage you all to seek the Lord to open your eyes to the brokenness around you and to seek Him on how He can use you to help remedy this broken world.
Sincerely,
Meraia
