This is only month one. It’s actually only been 2 weeks since landing in Africa. That’s been a little intimidating to process. My heart is all for community, I love doing the work of the lord, and traveling is as fulfilling as it gets. Beneath all that exhilaration, though, is a yearning for comfort and to be known.
What I didn’t really expect was to find that the Race isn’t really the Race once on the field. I am a missionary who is surrounded by unfamiliar people speaking a language I can’t and don’t understand. I am an American who has no way of communicating to ones far away and is unplugged from everything. I am a human being who is stuck between gratefulness for what lies ahead and grief for what has been left behind.
I signed up for this. I wanted to leave, detach, and pursue something bigger than I could ever imagine. I am grateful. I am learning. I am excited. Yet, there is still a part of my heart I can’t fully give over to God that I’m working on. I wake up and give each day to the Lord and vow to live it for Him. Still, my heart in flesh misses being understood and the things I’ve known my whole life.
I think what’s cool about this season is that it’s all okay. The Lord has told me over and over again that there is grace upon grace. When Jesus was sending out disciples, one of them asked if he could go bury his father before he leaves. The Lord’s reply? He’s taken care of; just go. It must’ve been hard for him to move past that! What I love about that story is that those disciples came back to tell Jesus of all the miracles they witnessed, people they healed, and demons they cast out. My stories are coming, and I know they’ll be worth it.
