It's been one year since I came back from across the world. About five months before that I had arrived there anticipating that those five months would be something other than what they had actually turned out to be. I had embarked on this one-year adventure lit up with vision, with great expectancy, and with my life jammed into four suitcases. I anticipated fulfillment of dream and of calling. I yearned to see fruit of obedience and God's mighty and faithful hand at work in the lives and hearts of 150 boys who go barefoot on dusty streets in the middle of Africa. I had this same anticipation, this same yearning, this same expectancy, this same vision for four years when my heart was given a passion that no one can give themselves. I had watched God do amazing things to get me there, such as providing $21,000 in a mere 6-8 weeks, so I had anticipated miraculous things were about to occur. So I boarded a plane, said yes to His go, and flew across the world to this teeny Maryland-sized country in the middle of Africa to go build a kingdom. I was alive.
Little did I know that after a mere two weeks of being on the ground I would be blindsided. I would have the rug pulled out from underneath me. The slander would begin. The betrayal would begin. It was as if my offensive line had not only let the defensive line through, but they had also turned and were trying to take me to the ground as well. I would start to question everything I had pursued and trusted for four years. I was wrecked so badly that I am questioning these same exact things to this very day. Relationships disappeared and shattered before my eyes. The way things had been presented to me turned out to not be the case and I was left to make things happen and do my mission almost without any sense of direction. I had to figure out the culture, the language, and how to go about day-to-day routines mostly on my own.
Next thing I know, after praying, seeking counsel, and many tears, God was leading me to go home after only five months. So as He had told me to go, I went home.
I was met at home by another wave of trials---I lost more relationships and a good chunk of my support system, more slander, and more accusations. Then came a devastating diagnosis. Everything changed and nothing else has been the same and I haven't been the same.
So I'll be honest---I've been wrecked. Wrecked by a diagnosis and the struggle that comes with it. Wrecked by hurt from unexpected places. Wrecked by shattered dreams. Wrecked by what seems like unnecessary pain and struggling. Wrecked by lack of faith, by doubt, by fear, and by stubbornness. Wrecked by past ghosts and current demons. Wrecked because of the fact that I've gone back into my shell and refuse to let anyone in and let anything get out. Wrecked because there have been quite a few days, weeks, and even months where I don't recognize myself. Wrecked because this is the first time I am truly wrestling with God and fighting to see how He can be good and loving and protective in the extremely ugly and painful things. I'm truly wrestling with God because I am angry at Him. I've yelled at Him. I've sworn at Him. I find verses about having joy in the Lord difficult to read. Trusting Him is just as difficult. I don't understand, I don't see, and I don't know why the hurt isn't budging. And it's been a year. I'm still asking the same questions I asked during the months I was in Rwanda. I'm still fighting. I'm still wrestling. It's all I can do to trek through every day. It's not pretty. It hasn't been pretty for a year and counting.
Overall summary is that I was clobbered to the ground over a year ago, and I'm still trying to get up from the ashes that were left behind. There are certain things I think about and am reminded of every...single...day. And I'll be honest: I hurt every single day.
And what have I seen among the rubble, among the dust and ashes, among the ugly? What have I seen among the things that don't seem redeemable?
God's unrelenting, intentional, never-ending, undeserving, unearned mercy and grace.
God's grace saved me, and it's His grace that keeps me. That's all.
Just like there is nothing so good I can do to earn His favor, there is nothing so bad
I can do to Him turn away from me.
He does not give up or run even when I have.
He's not done with me because I'm still alive, even though there have been many
times this past year where I shouldn't be.
God's grace saved me, and it's His grace that keeps me. That's all.
Just like there is nothing so good I can do to earn His favor, there is nothing so bad
I can do to Him turn away from me.
He does not give up or run even when I have.
He's not done with me because I'm still alive, even though there have been many
times this past year where I shouldn't be.
I'm sure many of you wonder if I miss Rwanda or if I will ever go back. I do miss it. I miss what I did there. I miss the simplicity. I miss how so different my thinking was. I miss the perspective. Even more I miss the boys. And technically I never got a chance to say goodbye. I hope to go back, I will always have a heart for Africa. But going back won't be for a while.
You might think, ok just get over it. It's not that simple, I'll get over it and move on when God wants me to get over it and move on. Especially when almost every area of my life has taken a hit. I can't force anything myself. I can't will myself to be healed. I can't will myself to understand. I can't will myself to see. There is not a checklist to do, there is not enough Bible reading or praying or going to church or talking with friends that will take the blindfold off my eyes and pick me up from the ground. And I have tried and tried and tried. No matter how much I try, there is nothing I can do to get over the hump. In time and by God's hand. I just don't know how much time. At the same time I have to accept the fact that I will not know all the answers this side of heaven. I just don't know which answers I will be given.
I've held on to this one verse for the past year:
You might think, ok just get over it. It's not that simple, I'll get over it and move on when God wants me to get over it and move on. Especially when almost every area of my life has taken a hit. I can't force anything myself. I can't will myself to be healed. I can't will myself to understand. I can't will myself to see. There is not a checklist to do, there is not enough Bible reading or praying or going to church or talking with friends that will take the blindfold off my eyes and pick me up from the ground. And I have tried and tried and tried. No matter how much I try, there is nothing I can do to get over the hump. In time and by God's hand. I just don't know how much time. At the same time I have to accept the fact that I will not know all the answers this side of heaven. I just don't know which answers I will be given.
I've held on to this one verse for the past year:
"But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter
formed it into another pot, shaping it as it seemed best to him."
Jeremiah 18:4
AS SEEMED BEST TO HIM. This is the verse I have seen hope and grace in among the ashes. It's His grace that makes me into something that seems best to Him, even if I have to be marred first.
