Its month 7 of the World Race.
I should be so into it.
But I am not.
I am tired.
Tired of the Race, of community, of digging deep, of loving people.
I am tired of it!!!
Is the Race over for me? Should I pack up and go home?
Since arriving in Malaysia, I have been praying and asking Papa. But all I have is silence. No answers. I just don’t understand!! And you’d think that I would feel safe enough to be myself but truth of the matter is I don’t.
Its MONTH 7!!! What have I been doing wrong? I don’t feel safe. Since being placed on a different team(s) it has been so hard. I don’t feel loved. I pass it off like its no big deal but I want to feel loved, and encouraged and to truly love in return. To have community like the early church. I do but I cant any longer. I am tired of tiring to fit in. I am tired of it!!! And even though its not my fault, I feel like it is.
Papa!!! Where are you when I need you most? Why wont you answer me? What sin is standing between us??!!!!!
I know You’re here with me but I need to hear Your voice telling me what to do. I thought that one night I heard You say to go home but was that my desire coming out or really your voice. The image that keeps popping into my head is the devotional that mom sent me about Gods will being He wants us to make our own decisions and even if its wrong, He will work it out for good. But if I go home, I will feel like a failure, like I didn’t finish what I started. I hate not completing things and I am guilty of not finishing a lot of them. I want to break that cycle. Oh Jesus!!
I guess, the honest truth is I’m scared of making decisions. Making good and lasting decisions. I am known to make a hasty decision and change it or regret making it.
I’m sitting here on the couch of the little flat (above where we teach English) where my team and I are living, writing this and I have no peace. What is the right decision to make? Do I have enough wisdom to make it.
Gosh, my journey within the World Race has many amazing stories such as a chicken shop owner in India who was a pastor and would go and visit the sick and pray healing in the name of Jesus or help out his sisters orphanage with the kids, who had such amazing faith.
To Nepal, where we worked with a pastor to teach a small church about worship and to see his heart for Papa and his amazing faith. He would jump up and down with joy at the sound of Jesus name. He invited us to his small home and fed a group of 7 white people a hearty meal when we knew it had cost him much. To his joy when one of my squad-mates gave him her guitar.
To the Thailand community, where we would wake up at 5:30am to join them in prayer every day. After which we went about our day making brick walls, cementing a driveway, eating good food with the locals and trying to communicate with what little Thai we knew. To church services, where Grandma Ba the monarch of the church would shake with the power of the Holy Spirit. To making tote bags with the Thai women, playing with a beautiful toddler who had Down Syndrome and was deaf.
To Laos where we met a women who was prosecuted by the communist. We were able to love on her by helping her farm and hanging out with her family.
To Cambodia, where we worked in an orphanage with over 20 children and a family that started it all by themselves.
To Vietnam, working with another couple that started and organization that works with the deaf to another organization that works with girls and boys that could be trafficked once they turn a certain age from the orphanage.
To an awful injury to one of my squad-mates and former teammate Chris, who fell and broke both his legs and to the way he responded praising God and claiming healing over himself and to his continuous great attitude.
These are all amazing stories and Papa has worked in and through all of them. So why am I so emotionally drained? Why doesn’t this bring me such joy like it used to?
Is this dependence that they keep talking about? If so, it sucks!!! But I guess that’s where Papa comes in
THE MOST UNTHINKABLE WAY: HE WRECKED ME!!!
