for whatever reason, it’s harder for me to blog this go around. maybe it’s because i’m not surprised by the “missionary” stuff this time. the cold showers are still cold, the floor is still hard, and the babies are still dirty. in some ways, the world is the same everywhere i go. there’s always poverty, always people who need healing, always people who are desperate for hope. you still can’t flush the toilet paper or drink the water. so all of that missionary stuff isn’t so new. and while it’s novel and exciting and an adventure for the twenty three kids i’m with, it just feels normal for me.
this whole thing feels eerily normal for me.
for someone who generally hates change and doesn’t always do well with adjusting to new normals, this time it feels easy. it feels right.
one of the greatest parts of being on this side of things is that i feel like i’m getting the best of both worlds. i get to see and hear and be a part of all that God is doing in the world when i go to the dumps and pray for people on the streets and dig up rocks on our property. but i also get to see and hear and be a part of these young adults coming alive. we’ve only been on the field for a little more than two weeks, but already the lord has done incredible things.
chains have started falling off, freedom from past wounds and decisions has started to come. questions about who god is are beginning to be answered. the realization of how much the world needs hope is being met with bold prayers from the shyest of girls in the middle of plastic shacks. the identities they’ve always known are being transformed to fit them the way it was always intended. people who didn’t even know the holy spirit existed two months ago are prophesying like crazy people and running through fire tunnels.
it’s amazing and incredible. and for as much as i struggled with the decision to do this, for as hard as it was for me to leave; i’m equally thankful that i’m here. i’m here with these people, in this place, doing the stuff that flows out of who i am.