Last month was very hard for me. And not for any of the reasons one would typically expect from the race.
We lived in plush hotel rooms with a/c and our own beds.
Our contact took us in like family.
We made great friends who took us out and showed us around the city.
We ate amazing food for very cheap.
I was able to sing and play piano for the worship band at the international church.
My ministry was sewing costumes for the nativity play.
We toured around town on our sweet, about-to-fall-apart rented bikes.
We got to help cook Thanksgiving dinner, including but not limited to pumpkin pie, pumpkin cheesecake, pecan pie, stuffing, turkey and mashed potatoes.
We got to eat said food with our new family and 30 of our new found friends.
We lived 5 min from the beach by bike.
Despite all that, I struggled.
As many of you know, my iPad disappeared this month. I will spare you the details, but suffice it to say that it was very much out of my control.
This took me through many different emotions: disbelief, hope, anger, stuffing down my anger, grief, and probably everywhere in between. I understand that losing an iPad seems like a petty thing to be so upset about. However, it represented so many things to me. It was my connection to home, my source of learning and entertainment (vital for characteristically long WR travel days), my connection to God through song and dance, my source of information, my comfort object and so much more.
But I don't need to legitimize my feelings to you, because that is one of the lessons God taught me through this:
Lesson Number One
My feelings are legitimate and worthy of being acknowledged.
I was upset with myself because losing my iPad upset me so much, so I pretended it didn't. And the only good that did was draw out the grieving process and blind me from the truths that God was trying to teach me through it. In the moments I did allow myself to cry out in frustration (shout out to Meghan and Alana for putting up with the brunt of it), I felt God and His peace most tangibly.
Lesson Number Two
Trusting God doesn't always equate to happiness and smiles
I was also under the impression that if I truly trusted God than I wouldn't be upset. If I was a good Christian I would be smiling and happy because I trusted God to provide. But it doesn't work like that. Just look at the Psalms. David was a " man after Gods own heart" yet he wrote things like,
How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
(Psalm 13:1-2)
But in the midst of that dark place, he is able to say,
But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation"
(Psalm 13:5)
I still don't fully grasp what trusting in His unfailing love looks like, but I know it doesn't mean pretending I'm ok when I'm not. And I know it means trusting Him not only provide bare necessities, but to give good gifts as well. This leads me to
Lesson Number Three
God gives good gifts to His children
When I lost my iPad, one of my initial thoughts was that God took it away to challenge me. I realized that, to me, God was a robe-clad ascetic monk, who begrudgingly indulged our creature comforts but would jump at any opportunity to take them away in order to strengthen our spiritual tenor. I struggled with feeling indignant and wronged but also realizing the potential for growth in my reliance on the Lord. On one hand, I didn't believe that God really cared if I had an iPad or not. And on the other hand I believed that He would provide, but it would be a big, elaborate, made-for-tv-movie type provision. Like a stork would drop it at my feet or something. Like it would be something He had to work for.
But in the end He did provide and He did it in a way that was stunningly beautiful in its simplicity. On the bus ride from Ho Chi Minh City to Siem Reap, I rode with my dear friend Skylar, and it was a sweet time of catching up on each others' lives. After I had shared with her my frustration and struggle from the past month and we were already onto a completely different topic, she reached into her backpack, pulled out her red-cased iPad and said, "Here, I want you to use this for the next 8 months".
So, I still don't have all the answers. I don't know what "trust without borders" looks like, as Bethel so beautifully put it. But I feel one step closer to it.
What emotions are you holding back from God? What box have you put Him in? Dare to dive into those questions, bring them to Him and I know He will answer.
