The leaves are shifting colors, from green to yellow and orange to red. And I feel a shift inside me too. A sort of falling, like the leaves do. Like finally my limbs are shaking loose the heaviness and are stretching outward and upward reaching for something else, reaching for something new, reaching for something that has been there all along.
Sometimes I feel like I hold too much inside of me, that all these stories are just crying out to be bound into pages, but I don’t have the time, and time, it seems, is never on my side. Perhaps it’s my fear, that in the silence between stories, in my moments of falling, there’s a fear that I will never find that one story, that good story. And sometimes words seem so empty when ones heart is so full. But I think I have to scribble across the page, type upon the keys, and spill these words anyways, because who knows, someone, somewhere, just might need a story.
Life is such a strange thing. Some days it is good and some days it is bad. Lately thought I’m finding the most dangerous moments is all the ‘OK’ in-between. I’ve seen that I have strength inside myself to persevere and survive through some truly awful days. But it’s the unremarkable everyday that will continue to break me if I allow them to gather in numbers.
It’s the mundane task, the continued routine, the loneliness, the feeling inferior, and the hearing the same old words out of different mouths and nothing changes. It’s hoping for something more in a world that is always taking and never giving. It is the frustrations with feeling like I’m not doing enough, that I will never do enough, to reach out and grasp ahold of what I need to. And so I’m falling again.
And I’m greedy in my nature, I want Jesus and I want so many other things. I know though, if I can’t have both, now or ever, I will always choose Jesus. But even knowing that deep in my heart doesn’t make the want disappear. It’s there and it’s strong.
Recently though it feels like I always write when I’m either miserable or every thing is going right. And I’ve realized that if I always write when my misery is overwhelming or my happiness exudes me, well than I wouldn’t be true to what life is really like. Because I’m not always happy, and I’m not always miserable. Some days, like today, I just am.
But this world is so much more than me. And I think sometimes I’d like to believe that the world revolves around the things I do and the people I am with. But, I’m not in high school anymore, and as nice as it would be, the world does not revolve and survive on the things I do. The world is so much more than me… This life is so much more than me. And I think I’ve been missing the whole point.
I’ve been letting misery and mopey moments get the best of what my life is made for. That I find myself in the midst of situations, frustrated or angry or crying out, and yet there’s something bigger going on behind the scenes, something that I can’t always see.
That in the end all that I am doing is not for the world, it’s not for me, it is for Jesus, it is for the beautiful people I fell in love with 8000 miles across the sea. In the end, all the happy days, sad days, the frustrating moments, the pain, the sufferings, the exams, the days spent in laughter, and the days spent on my knees, face down on the floor. They will all be worth it, when in a place where medicine is not accessible, it will be there and so will I. That I will acquire the skills, by the grace of God, to take medicine to heal the sick, who might have otherwise died. But it’s not just for the medicine, it is for the Gospel, where people who may have never heard or experiences this real, tangible love, they will get to hear and feel, and experience Jesus. That is the point to all of this. My life poured out. My life as a living, breathing gospel. My life for Jesus.
My hope and my goal in this short life is that in everything I do, Jesus is known, and I need to continue to learn to step out of the way. To let my selfish inhibition go and let Him shine through. Because honestly I don’t need the money, I don’t need a title, I just need Him. He’s all I get to take with me.
And there are times I get homesick for a place I’m not sure even exists. One where my heart is full, where I am loved deeply, and my soul is understood. But home is not where we come from. I think it’s a place we find, like it’s scattered and we pick pieces of it up along the way. So I continue to gather up pieces and tuck them away in my heart, until I find my way home.
There will be moments that are difficult, but I have something many people do not, I have a burning desire, a unrelenting love, an all pursuing passion for those beautiful faces across the ocean, and I stare at pictures, in moments I get discouraged and it pushes me to study, it pushes me to ask questions, to learn everything I can. To be as knowledgeable as I can be, to be the best I can be, because it’s all for them and it’s all for Jesus.
And so I continue to look to Jesus and I see the brightest flashes of hope. That even in the ‘OK’ in-between, He is extraordinary, that I do not do things in vain, that there is purpose. I will continue to look to Him, to follow Him, with child-like faith. Constantly reaching out, sometimes falling. Reaching out my limbs for something, for Someone who has always been there and who always will be.
In that I have hope. In that I have courage. He has overcome the world. And I just hope that we never lose our wonder, wide-eyed and mystified. May we be just like a child, staring in marvel at the magnificence of our King.
Writing from the in-between,
HIS and yours,