It’s rough, when you enter a dry spell, when you enter into a season where you just don’t see the Lord moving. I came in to month 7 with high expectations. I expected to see God move, to see Him release others from bondage, to see the Spirit manifest in mighty ways. But, I didn’t. And it frustrated me. I came to our ministry here in Managua on a high, ready to do what the Lord had for me, chomping at the bit, and then was blindsided with what our ministry consists of: teaching English. In a few short minutes after our host, Pastor Eliab, told us what we would be doing, I was overwhelmed. Teach English? To people who speak Spanish? I hardly speak any spanish at all, and you want me to teach? To top it off, we had no curriculum to teach from, and would have to come up with our own. I began to freak out. I lost sight, and I found myself telling God there must be some mistake; I’m not equipped for this. I received no answer. He was silent. I shut down. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want the ministry. I didn’t want Managua. I didn’t want the Race. I only pressed on because I knew that God was good. All the time. Even when I do not see him moving. And I knew I was here for a purpose. We started classes. And I didn’t see Him moving. I felt stuck. I was frustrated. I knew I was doing what I was supposed to be doing, so why wasn’t He showing up?
Well, ya see, attitude has a lot to do with things. The posture of my heart was not right. It was not one of love. I was doing what He asked, but doing it begrudgingly, halfheartedly. A story comes to mind where two farmers are asking God for rain. One farmer then goes out and prepares his fields to receive that rain, but the other sits and does nothing. I wasn’t preparing for rain. I wasn’t really expecting God to show up. I just wanted an excuse for my poor attitude about things. I was dissatisfied with my situation, telling God to change it, and unwilling to put my own heart into it. I was doing what I was supposed to, but I was doing it without love. “If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.” 1 Corinthians 13:1-3. You see. I was scared to love. I’ve been loving people since the beginning of the trip. I loved in the Philippines. I loved in Swaziland. And I had to leave the people I loved behind. It hurts. Immensely. I came to Nicaragua, shortly after saying goodbye to squad mates I loved as we split off to different ministries all over the country, and I didn’t want to put my heart on the line anymore. Love is hard. Love is a choice. A choice that put Jesus Christ on a cross, and I was having none of it. I would just have to leave the people of Nicaragua in May, and leave more pieces of my already tattered heart behind with them. And so, I chose not to love. I went through the motions of ministry. I served. I taught English classes. I played with the kids. I smiled and laughed, even cried and comforted, but I never gave away my heart. And it sucked away my joy. It sucked away my life. I wanted to go home for the first time on the Race. Through withholding my heart from the people of Nicaragua, I withheld it from my King, my Savior, my Father, Brother, and Best Friend. Our relationship grew distant. I became angry, dissatisfied, and frustrated with what He was doing in my life, but thankfully, His love is never withheld from me.
It just so happens that I came to my lowest point just before Easter weekend, and He decided to take a hand. He poured out His love on me. He opened my eyes again to the love He had for me when I was at a place of desperation, of giving up. I saw it in His creation. I saw it in His people. And I felt it directly from Him. I received life from Him in the remembrance of the greatest act of love: Christ’s sacrifice, Christ’s choice of love on a cross. He chose me. He chose to love me when I cursed His name. How much do you think I broke His heart? How many times have I hurt Him, with my sins, my denial of Him, my blatant rejection of His love? Yet He never stopped. He never withheld His heart from me. He never stopped choosing me, pursuing me. He loved me with abandon. His choice of love caused Him to bear the weight, the guilt of my sins, the whole world’s sins, on a cross. And because of His love, I live. Because of His love, I can love. Because of His love, I can have a relationship with the Source of all love. My heart broke. I had been withholding what was not mine to keep. All love comes from the Father, and I was refusing to give it to those He has asked me to. How dare I? Christ had paid for that love dearly, and I was holding on to what was not mine in the first place. Finally, I let go. I stopped holding onto my heart, and loved. The joy came, the life came, the love came. I was no longer dissatisfied, but full and expectant of His greatness to come. I was no longer frustrated. Through the lens of love, I saw the purpose of why we’re here: to show His love. I am a vessel. A vessel of His love. To be poured out where He wants. I am a conduit, a pipeline from the Source of love, and until lately my line had been blocked. Blocked with cares and worries, blocked by fear, but now, because of His faithfulness, His goodness, love is flowing freely once more. My heart is His again, to do with what He wills. And now, finally, it belongs to the people of Nicaragua. And just in time, one month left in my Race, and I’m going to finish running.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.
