One Year Later

Has it really been a year?

I remember this day last year with such crisp clarity. I finished writing a paper. I finished some last minute packing. I shed a few tears as I said goodbye to my family. I climbed into the van with the team and embarked on the journey of a lifetime. This much, I understood. I knew that I would return a changed person. But I had no idea how much those days in South Africa would change my life forever.

The past few weeks, my mind has been racing, remembering. My senses have been stimulated, far more often than I would like. Sights, sounds, smells - they all take me back to some place in Cape Town and I relive the memory with vivid precision.

I'm fighting to remember the good, which is why I decided to publish the post that I wrote right after I returned, but kept in draft format until now.

There is so much hurt and pain in my heart associated with this time of the year. I spent October 2010 in Cape Town, South Africa. I expected this to be the best time of my life. I was serving at a ecumenical missions conference. I went with the most wonderful team of people. What could be better, right?

In a twisted way, I'm compelled to say that this was the time of my life. By that, I mean that because of this trip and everything that happened, every pain I felt, every hardship I endured, Jesus became sweeter and sweeter. I wouldn't trade that for the world.

Yet, it was unbearably painful. Everything was unknown. I was alone. Congress participants were rude. I felt the weight of tension within the team. My body was in intense pain much of the time. The Lord did a crushing work in my heart through a certain event, but for the sake of discretion, I cannot share that here. Just know that I was broken last October. Broken in a way I never would or could have expected.

I was afraid. Afraid of being hurt. Afraid of being abandoned. Afraid of being worthless.

Every sight, sound, and smell brings back those feelings. They wash over me like pounding waves. My mind races. My heartbeat quickens. My breathing is stilted. I am paralyzed in the moment. I let the pain return. And I fight to cling to Jesus.

The Lord is doing a very healing work in my life. Yet the healing involves reopening and scrubbing out the wound, at times with a wire brush and other times with a gentle cotton swab. I want to be healed, to be cleansed. But more than anything, I want my heart to be soft. I don't want to be numb to pain (or joy). I don't want to be angry and bitter. I want to love Jesus and see his purposes (and vehicles for bringing about those purposes) as perfect.

There is a lot of pain in my heart associated with this day, but I can look back on it with a grateful heart. In South Africa, and since I've returned, my mantra has been a portion of Brooke Fraser's Faithful:

There's distance in the air and I cannot make it leave

I wave my arms round about me and blow with all my might

I cannot sense you close, though I know you're always here

But the comfort of you near is what I long for

When I can't feel you, I have learned to reach our just the same

When I can't hear you, I know you still hear every word I pray

And I want you more than I want to live another day

And as I wait for you maybe I'm made more faithful

That's how I've felt, in large measure, since last October. Yet the Lord has removed the distance. I can sense him close. I feel the comfort of his presence. And I have been made more faithful. I sobbed. I begged. I pleaded. The Lord honored that prayer. He has not wasted my suffering. I still don't understand it all, but I can trust him because he is worthy. Over and over again he has proved himself faithful.

He is always faithful. Can we just revel for a minute, please?

I don't much like October 9. I wish it didn't have these memories associated with it. I wish I could enjoy autumn in Minneapolis and not return to feelings of fear, anxiety, pain, and hurt. But God is redeeming it. He is pouring out his kindness all over my life. Today, I can say, "This is the day that the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it."

Remembering the Kindness of the Lord

(I wrote this post shortly after returning from Cape Town, but never published it. I decided to today because I need to remember positive things about the trip. I need to remind myself how kind the Lord was in giving me a beautiful example of love in my South African friends.)

-November 2010-

My mind has been a tad scrambled lately. So much happened in those 19 days that has changed my life.

So, where to begin? Well, South Africa, I suppose. What a beautiful place! Seriously, I have been enchanted by the city of Cape Town and the wonderful South African friends I met there.

Although we went as a Bethlehem team, we didn't spend much time together during the day. I spent most of my day working alongside stewards for all over the world. When I first thought about the other stewards, I assumed I wouldn't spend much time with them and that they would not be a major part of my experience. How wrong I was... the people I served with became the richest part of the congress for me.

This may sound shallow in light of the weight of the congress, but hear me out. I didn't experience much of the actual congress because I was either serving during the plenary sessions, or I was so exhausted by the time my shift ended that I collapsed in the steward lounge. If I had experienced more of the sessions or interacted more with the participants, I'm sure that would have been my highlight:) But, since that was not the case, I got to know the other stewards quite well. I spent hours and hours serving beside them, exploring Cape Town with them, and staying at the fabulously sketch Train Lodge with them. The way that I was loved, especially by the South African stewards, was incredible. They were so intentional in getting to know me and making conversation was never awkward in the least. I was loved. I didn't have to prove anything or be lovable. I was a member of the body of Christ and I was loved. I have so much to learn from these beautiful people.