Two weeks ago I started college again. So now its back to the mundane things of life. Work, school, homework, fighting. Always fighting for joy. I know that this is where God wants me. Here, in America, for a year. Working and saving money, being a testimony to His goodness, learning patience, helping my mom with the little ones, being a part of my family's life again. I am so thankful for this time that He is giving me. I have a whole year of good things to look forward to. Friday night prayer meetings, Wednesday night chances to pour into the lives of kids here, Sunday morning place of encouragement and worship. I am fighting to keep my eyes wide open for His graces. But then of course, my heart aches to be in Africa. Most of all, I am homesick for my little one.
The day after school started, I found myself laying on our driveway. Face pressed to concrete, tears staining the ground, moaning my questions to Him who sees. Why am I so far away from the son of my heart? If You gave him to me, Lord, then why does an ocean divide us? And why here, why a whole year? Nothing relieves this pain in me. But also, I am sure that He sees. And something beautiful will come of this, because He has promised to make me more like His Son. [for those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son] And I claim that promise for me and my little one.
Some days later, my parents went on a mountain excursion for the weekend, and I found myself being mom for the weekend to my three little sisters. We packed a lunch, went to the library, and played in fountains. We went to the park and I sat on the swings with my little sister. Swinging reminds me of the hanging I do every day. Hanging on only the Lord and His promises, because really I have nothing else to cling to. And I started to realize then, that I can be so blind to the joy and opportunities in this year of waiting. If we have to sit on this swing with our feet dangling, why not feel the wind through our hair? Why not laugh and hang backward and stand up and spin around? My youngest sister taught me so much that day. And after our friends were done playing ultimate frisbee, we all gathered to pray together. I knelt on a rock and spoke thanks. Remembered back to the concrete, and my heart aches. In this joy there is so much pain. And in the midst of my hurt, there is also so much joy. If only I'd open my eyes.
"Hagar and her boy were dying of thirst with a well less than a bowshot away. What insanity compels me to shrivel up when there's joy's water to be had here? In this wilderness, I keep circling back to this: I'm blind to joy's well every time I really don't want to see it. The well is always there. And I choose not to see it. Don't I really want joy? Don't I really want the fullest life? For all my yearning for joy, longing for joy, begging for joy- is the bald truth that I prefer the empty dark?....Do I think Jesus-grace too impotent to give me the full life? Isn't that the only reason I don't always swill the joy? If the startling truth is that I don't really want joy, there's a far worse truth. If I am rejecting the joy that is hidden somewhere deep in this moment- am I not ultimately rejecting God? Whenever I am blind to joy's well, isn't it because I don't believe in God's care? That God cares enough about me to always offer me joy's water, wherever I am, regardless of circumstance. But if I don't believe God cares, if I don't want or seek the joy He definitely offers somewhere in this moment- I don't want God."
(One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp)
No comments:
Post a Comment