This month is a month of new and old.
It’s a new country (Cambodia), but in an old (aka previously visited) continent (Asia).
It’s a new way (teaching English) of doing an old ministry (youth).
I have a new team (Waka) with people from old ones (Rachael: Relentlessly Lost, Elaina: Considered Rapha, Amiee: Going to Cook Fish Together, Dave: Considered Lost).
I’m learning new lessons that should really be old truths by now.
What happens when new and old come together?
Let me tell you.
Dave and I got into a fight in Moldova over whether or not it’s possible to save the world. His viewpoint was realistic to the point of pessimism: it’s not possible for one person to create any sort of global change, you should be grateful if you can make a difference in even one person’s life.
[As an aside, Dave is a few years older and perhaps a touch more mature that I am- whether or not I’d admit that to him is another story.]
Meanwhile, I was operating under a reckless, fight- to- the- death, save the world and leave none unhelped opinion. His realism made me want to scream, while my borderline ignorant optimism did the same to him.
At the end of our time in Moldova, Dave and I split ways. He went on to lead team Waka, and I spent the next few months learning lessons with team Raw Fish.
Four months later found me on my face in Thailand, having yet another dramatic freak out and the decision to come home. As they tried to help me sift through all the ideas and emotions invading my mind, several people asked me the question, “did you do what you came to do?”
Did I do what I came to do??
What did I come to do?
I had come to save the world, and 8 months in, the only thing I had accomplished was coming to the realization that it’s not possible.
I can’t do it.
I’m not strong enough, or smart enough, or loving enough, or even equipped enough to create global change, to eradicate poverty, to end the senseless deaths of millions of refugees, of orphans, of the infirm.
I can’t preach the Gospel to every person on the planet, and honestly, I don’t even know if I could do it to an entire town.
In fact, if I’m being honest, how much of a change can I even have on my friends, my family, myself?
All I wanted to do was save the world, and all I have left is the sinking feeling of failure and another month coming up to hug children and flirt with old ladies just in time to wave goodbye.
Let’s get one thing straight: I, Natalie Daché, operate in extremes. If I’m going to do something, I’m going to commit to it one hundred and ten percent- anything less is a cop out, and I can’t stand copping out. Go big or go home is great until you realize you can’t go big, but you’re not ready to go home yet, either.
So.
Hello, Cambodia.
Another month, another country, another chance to be reminded of the fact that ministry needs to be long term or it’s not much of anything.
The first week here, Dave pulled me aside.
“Hey, I wanted to apologize,” he said. “You might not remember this, but one time in Moldova we had a conversation about whether or not it’s possible to save the world…”
Yeah, I remember, I thought.I remember how passionate I was back then and how confused I am now. And I’m not sure how much an apology is really going to help that.
“Anyway, I wanted to say that you were right. We absolutely can save the world- and to think anything less is dishonoring to God. With man this would be impossible, but with God, all things are possible.”
Lightbulb.
With man, this would be impossible, but with God, all things are possible.
I had somehow fallen into the mentality that I have to do this all myself, and when I realized I couldn’t possibly, my do- or- die pride took a serious hit.
But this isn’t about me- it’s about what the Lord can do through me, if I just stop trying so hard and let Him.
Something old, something new.
What old lessons have YOU been relearning?
carrying the weight of the world in the form of rice in Swaziland…
