I am far below perfect. Ask my team. Just a few nights ago I blew up in a fit of brokenness.
I chose to go on this journey of traveling from 11 countries. Packing up my home each month. I knew there would be months I would not enjoy. I knew there would be moments I would miss home.
Moldova hah been a month I hated. I won't sugarcoat it. For example here's an excerpt from my journal:
"Father, I really don't like it here. Honestly, I hate it. I don't want to spend my Thanksgiving with these people. I want to spend it with this family (team Ohana Lokahi), which doesn't always feel like a family. I know I sacrificed all this for you, but it doesn't keep me from feeling… I just hate everyone saying to thank [the Molodvans]. To thank them for what? Thank them for not appreciating us being here. For not even giving us work to do. For wasting a month. We are the ones who have sacrificed our families to do what? They haven't even tried to get to know us. I feel useless here. I know I'm not right. I know all of these feelings are lies. I know this isn't reflecting You. I still feel it. Take it away. Break me down…"
Yet I chose to hate this month. I chose to allow myself not to be honest until this point. Yet I didn't even know the choices I had made in my attitude towards the month until we had a team discussion about what to do for Thanksgiving. And I broke and vented all my frustrations… And when they tried to speak life into me, I walked out of the room.
I sat on my sleeping pad, angry. Popped in my iPod headphones and blared Tenth Avenue North into my ears. I cried and sat before The Lord with my journal spilling out everything. I ended my journal entry with this:
"How can I love You, The Perfect Man, when I can't even love flawed people? I am so insignificant compared to You and Your glory, yet I focus so much on myself. Sometimes this all just feels too hard. I know it's worth it. Remind me."
He answered,
"Are you going to hang on a cross to show your love for these people? I did. Would you? You would, because I choose to live inside you. I enable you to love all these people I place before you. Stop acting like your the only person sacrificing. I love you. Now see me in this place. See my love. See my smile. So pick up your axe… It's right where you left it. Humble yourself as I did. Let go as I let go."
So I walked into the room of my team and swallowed my pride. And I apologized. And I still wasn't happy about it. But God was. He smiled upon me.
Because I realized it's not even about Moldova really and its definitely not about the people here. It's about my selfishness. It's about God refining me into the woman I am and can be. If I'm being honest, which I usually am, the people here do love and love well. It just doesn't look the way I think it should look. And until this point they have loved me better than I have loved them. Everyone is in a process of learning what following Christ really looks like. Looking back on this last month I have loved the people here. I have let my emotions control how I viewed this month. Emotions of missing my family so close to the holidays. Emotions of frustration because things aren't going the way I want them to. All these emotions and so much more have infiltrated my view of this month here.
And I realize I don't hate this month. I don't hate the people here. I have loved getting to know the teens during English Club. I have loved getting to know the church members through soccer and games of ninja. I have loved getting to know the pastor through early morning prayer meetings.
After I spilled out my inner selfishness and self-conceit is when I could see the blessings of this beautiful place. I could see the beauty of the people here. I could feel the love of the people and rejoice with them. But I had to get over myself. I had to see beyond my circumstances and my needs in order to rely on God to see all that He had blessed me with. And after being consumed by my emotions for three weeks, I have been able to rest knowing this last week and the people here have and will hold a very special place in my heart.
And while other people can read this and say man you are a terrible missionary because you had to get over yourself so you could love the people; and while Satan can tell me to just go home,
My Abba says, "You're a perfect missionary, because you're not okay with just being okay. You trust Me to be raw. And that's what this world needs. Not a white missionary from America who has everything together. They need someone willing to change and walk alongside them. Well done, my daughter. Well done."
