Well friends,
We’re in Thessaloniki, Greece this month and it’s been – um, quite interesting. I’ve had a lot going on internally this past week and the brokenness of my human heart has made it very hard to be here.
It all started on June 28th, the day we arrived in Thessaloniki. We were informed we would be taking all four adventure days for the month right away. Our partnering pastor here in Greece was out of town which meant no ministry until he returned. Off adventuring we went.
SO FUN, right? Wrong. Four days adventuring all over Greece might sound fun, but honestly there was nothing to enjoy when I knew I was in a community drowning in desperation. Did I get to do fun things like go skydiving, play volleyball at the beach and swim in the Aegean Sea? Yes. But if I’m being honest, those four days wrecked me. It was the start of an emotional roller coaster that I haven’t been able to escape since I got here.
I didn’t want to be adventuring, I wanted to be going to battle for the refugees.
I’m living in a community with thousands and thousands of refugees and I feel like I can’t do anything. I see countless people on the streets with fear and hopelessness in their eyes. I’m told I can’t buy Kleenexes from the young refugee girl because it will do more harm than good. I hear about war and outrage at the refugee camps yet I’m not allowed to go in and help. The brokenness and desperation I’m surrounded by is greater than anything I’ve ever experienced – yet here I am just sitting around because I feel like there is nothing I can do.
We can’t get into the camps because the government has started monitoring relief organizations. Those who do get to go can only go in small groups of four or five. War has broken out and riots are happening inside the camps which means there is now a safety risk. So here I am, sitting and waiting.
My heart has been so ugly this week and the more I sit on this roller coaster of emotions the more I realize what a mess I am. Here’s the problem, or at least what I think the problem is: I’m just real mad at God. I’ve been in Greece for a week and don’t feel like I’ve done any real ministry.
“Why in the heck did you even bring me here if I’m not going to be doing anything?”
“Why didn’t I just stay in Bulgaria with the gypsies and continue outreach there?”
“At least send me home where I could be prepping for camp and getting ready for the week with my Royal Family people.”
“Seriously, what is the point, God?”
These are just a few things I’ve been quarreling with God about lately.
My heart physically aches when I think about the life these refugees are living. I experience instant anger, instant frustration and a yearning to do something about it.
But here’s the thing … this “I’m not doing anything” mentality is a lie. It’s a lie I have allowed myself to believe over the past week. Yesterday I sat around the table discussing product development for a jewelry line that will help refugees create their own businesses, the day before I sat with my team for two hours praying over Thessaloniki and the injustices here, then I sat in a prayer room with my squad for an hour praying for the unrest happening in the Middle East. Today, I sat in front of a refugee as he told me his horrific journey here by boat.
Reality check, I AM doing something here. It might not look like I want it to and I might not be doing the work I imagined I would be – but I am doing something.
Last month my team and I studied this passage: “the prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.” (See James 5.) If all I get to do here is walk through the streets and pray for people – that is enough. If all I get to do here is pray for the homeless refugees I see on the street – that is enough. If all I get to do is sit alone with God and declare victory over His lost people – that is enough. Rebuking the lie that “I’m not doing anything” is a constant battle and not an easy one I might add, but because of Jesus my prayers are powerful and effective. The spirit I carry is enough for these people. The power to proclaim freedom over this nation is enough.
Here’s the ironic/funny/interesting part. When my team and I were praying over our time in Greece the Lord asked me this:
“Are you willing to be part of a harvest you will not reap?”
This question has been haunting me all week and frankly, I’m scared to answer it. I’m scared to answer because right now the answer is no. No, I’m not okay with it. I WANT to be at the refugee camps. I WANT to be on the front lines of this injustice. I WANT to be a part of the process, of the relief, of their journey.
“Oh but my daughter, you are,” responds my Father.
“You are a part of this journey with them. Give them what you already have because it is enough. My power in you is enough.”
There’s no happy ending to this blog. I’m still working on believing that I am enough for these people. I’m realizing my discontentment, my pride and the lack of trust I have in the Lord are all getting in the way of what He wants for me.
Part of the race is pressing in when it gets hard. I want you to know that I’m not giving up and I am pressing in but please be patient with me. As of right now, I have a few prayer requests:
- Refugee camps. The living conditions, the violence, the injustice, and the lack of resources are just the tip of the iceberg. Pray daily, pray hourly, pray whenever you can for the people living in these camps.
- I’m currently working on pride, control and distrust. These are not easy issues to sort out with the Lord so if you have time I’d really appreciate prayers as I walk through these heart issues.
I am aware this blog got long (& thank you to those who made it to the end) but part of this journey is me sharing with you where I’m at and what the Lord is teaching me.
To be continued …
PS: In case you missed my video from our time in Bulgaria here it is! (Don’t worry it’s only two minutes long.)
