Looking back on my entries from this summer, it does in some ways seem incredibly hopeless and daunting, but it's not. It’s amazing to think that God prepared me so much so that I could walk in confidence of His protection and goodness, even as I experienced the most faith-shaking summer of my life. I became very aware this summer that when all of what I never thought should happen did so right before my eyes, and so many of my hopes crashed, that my foundation was solid. When I got home, I didn’t know what to do, in fact, I questioned and grappled with feeling guilty and unworthy of the life that I have. I learned so much about suffering. How terribly I hate suffering. I flinch and I squirm and I resist, but sometimes it seems like we can’t avoid it.
For me, it doesn’t actually seem like I’m experiencing suffering until after the fact. Usually in the midst of extreme pain or heartbreak, I somehow get this divine ability to press on—to move forward. While I was in India, I realized how hard it was, but I was walking solely in the power of the Holy Spirit. It’s not until the adjustment back to “normal” life that I realize how intensely I needed and clung to my Sustainer. For some reason though, the coming back to America from India shocked me into this time—maybe even season—of unidentifiable and unrecognizable pain. Never before have I avoided the phone calls of my best friend. Never before had I really tried to search my heart for explanations or understanding and come up with nothing. Never before in the midst of such suffering have I had such a lack of zeal and hope. Never before had I really wished people didn’t ask or want to know how I’m doing.
I found myself crying unexpectedly (maybe not surprising to some) having no logical links to why I was quiet or frustrated or unmotivated or apathetic. I wish that I could tie every one of my reactions or lack thereof to something direct, but most of the time, it didn’t exist. If any of you know me, you know that a lot of the time, it’s really hard for me to be patient with myself. I hate giving things time because I so value closure. I love it when things end clearly—all squared away. I get a really pathetic sense of satisfaction from doing something like crossing a task off my list. Truth be told, I sometimes even add a completed task to my list just to cross it off. I love finality.
My experience in South Asia is not something that has ended clearly or something that squares itself away nicely. I’ve dragged it into my every day. So you can see what my struggle in returning has been here. My transition home from India has not been easy, in fact, it’s been really hard—probably one of the hardest transitions or experiences in general that I’ve ever had to go through because, literally, I know nothing about how to best do things.
You see, God didn’t stop teaching me of Himself when I left India, He has continued working in my life here in America, too. Now, three, almost four, months after I return, I can finally say that I’m doing “well,” and not for one second was there a moment that I doubted God’s control or His goodness. Through it all, I have learned to recognize how lost I truly am, and how desperately I need Jesus. I have recognized my deep deep love for Him, my deep deep desire for more of Him, and my deep deep longing for all to know Him. I have learned to believe the Gospel all over again. Jesus came to a world broken, abused, oppressed, cruel, and sinful, to accomplish His rescue plan. Those around Him didn’t see it at first, in fact those walking right beside Him the entire time didn’t see it clearly, but He had a plan for the redemption of His people—a plan that made Him the Servant of All. It is in the pain of shattered dreams and in the pain of dwindling hope that I have discovered on a new level how beautiful the Gospel is. How beautiful it is that God pursues us relentlessly even when we stray so easily. As I walk with Jesus—stumble, really, I don’t see His plan quite yet. I know the end—that He will return and make all things new, but until then I will continue to walk blindly, trusting His lead; for He has a plan. How humbling it is that He has chosen me to be a part of it.
“’You are my servant, I have chosen you and not cast you off’; fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.’” –Isaiah 41:9b-10
