Blessed in the Mess

Well it has been a full two months since I have left home. Sixty-one days since I have been away from the only life I’ve ever known. This trip has definitely been a whirlwind experience to say the least. All in all, it has been nothing like I had originally expected. But in a way, I kind of expected that… if that makes sense. Based on my instagram pictures and various social media updates, it would be safe to assume that I am living a glorious, idealistic missionary life. Like I was completely formulated for this lifestyle and it has all come super easy to me as a result. And yeah, that would be the easiest route to take. To write a blog about how wonderfuly smooth this transition in my life has been, and how I have totally been in my element the past two months. Struggles are a rarity and I go to bed every night with a huge smile on my face. That would be ideal, right? Well it honestly couldn’t be further from the truth. Don’t get me wrong, these have been the best two months of my life, but they have also been the most difficult.

Living in the Peruvian Jungle has been so extremely different from the life I am used to living in America that I could never adequately describe it in words. Unless you experience living in a third world country firsthand, no amount of blogs, documentaries, news clippings, books, etc. could ever really prepare you. Until you have stared poverty in the face, you could never really comprehend how absolutely rich so many of us are in America. And until you have looked an abused child in the eyes, nothing could prepare you for the emotions that follow. Living in the midst of this disorder is exhausting on all levels. Mentally, emotionally, spiritually, physically…everything changes. I have learned to appreciate things that I have never before appreciated. I thank God every single day for things I once took for granted.

First and foremost, God has blessed me abundantly with amazing people in my life. I miss my family and friends more than I thought I would. Part of me has always known that I am constantly surrounded by incredible people, but after experiencing the distorted family dynamics here in Nauta, my love for family has only grown. Many of the children I have met here come from abusive and fatherless homes. So many of them grow up with no sense of value and worth, and it absolutely breaks my heart that these children do not experience the unconditional love I have always received from my parents. I have never once doubted my parents’ love for me, and I have never once worried about them not being a part of my life. I have been forced to wonder how different my life would be if I did not grow up in such a loving and supportive home. God only knows where.

Despite the grim circumstances that many of these kids grow up in, I still have so much hope for them. Regardless of life’s circumstances, they are still children of God, and no earthly father could ever come close to the love that is our Heavenly Father. And thankfully, “neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present or the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation can separate us from the love of God.” Those aren’t just some words written in a book thousands of years ago that have no power over us today. That is a p r o m i s e from the Creator of the universe that still stands. That is the reason I am able to look at these children and smile. I know God has His hands on them, and no matter how many times people fail them, He never will. As much as my heart breaks for them, I know that God cares for them way more than I ever will, and He is constantly reminding me of the fact that HE is enough. God is the God of redemption. He makes all things new in their time. There is absolutely no wound that he cannot heal and absolutely no void that He cannot fill.

Thankfully, this isn’t only applicable to children in third world countries. It is applicable to me and you. Over the past couple months, I have tried to convince myself that I have no right to struggle. I have no right to feel broken, simply because there are people all around me who have it so much worse. Quite frankly, that is a lie from the devil himself. Yes many people in this world are facing greater stuggles than I am, but that should not rob me of the fact that I struggle, and I need God just as much as the next person. If He has taught me one thing on this trip, it’s that it’s okay to be broken. It’s okay to feel lost sometimes. God called me on this trip, and He was perfectly aware that I was going to fall short. He knew that I was going to be stretched to my limit, unable to muster up the strength on my own.

This life is h a r d. There’s just no other way to put it. Living out of a backpack is hard. Living with nine other girls is hard. Having absolutely zero alone time is hard. Living in this ninety degree, ridiculously humid jungle weather is hard. Killing spiders the size of my face is hard (I acutally don’t get within ten feet of them, I ain’t about that life). Constantly (and I mean constantly) feeling dirty is hard. Trying to minister to people about God’s love in my terribly broken Spanish is hard. Mustering up the energy to pour into people day in and day out is hard. Loving the unlovable is hard. Continually stepping out of my comfort zone is hard. Missing home is hard. Being present is hard. Trying to take all of this in is hard. You get the picture. This has not been a cake walk by any means. Comfort is surely a rarity in my life. However, no amount of hardships can compare to what God has done in and through me since I left home nine weeks ago.

I’m not telling you my struggles in hopes that you will think I’m a strong and mighty person for hanging in there as long as I have. That is not my intention at all. So let me be perfectly clear when I say that God is the One who has carried me through this journey. Without His strength, I would have been on a plane home before the first week was even over. Back to my ‘posh’ American lifestyle with more comforts than I can count. Back to sleeping without a mosquito net (and bed bugs), air conditioning, taking as many hot showers as my little heart desires, brushing my teeth with sink water, flushing my toilet paper, eating well-balanced meals, and not being eaten alive by mosquiotes whenever I step outside… back to not worrying about contracting lice every time I hug a child or not getting boogers smeared in my hair when the same little one snuggles my neck… But honestly, that life is so overrated. Being comfortable is so overrated. It’s in the midst of the pain, tears, and utter brokenness that I have truly been able to experience the power that is my God. Every single void that I have felt since leaving home, He has filled time and time again. When life gets to be too much and I just want to crawl in a hole and cry (which averages once every few days), He shows up. Every.Single.Time.

In my twenty-two years of life, I have never had to rely on God like I do now. I have had to rely on His strength all sixty-one days I have been away from home. He is the joy that seems to come out of nowhere on the toughest of days. He is the sudden bolt of energy when five minutes earlier, I was on the brink of collapsing. He is the love I feel for these children, no matter how much they drive me crazy. He is the excitement I feel about the month ahead. He is the hope I find in the most hopeless of situations. He continues to pour into me so I can pour out. He fills me with so much love that I can’t help but give it away. He is e v e r y good thing in my life.

I am by no means a good person. I’m not any stronger, braver, or more noble than the person reading this blog. I am simply a child obeying her Father. All I did was jump on a plane, hoping for the best. I don’t have any special qualifications or attributes that make me better suited for this than the next person. The truth is that most of the time, I am weak, broken, and completely lost. I ride the stuggle bus daily (front seat, baby). But thankfully, God is enough. In fact, He is more than enough. For that reason, I delight in my weaknesses, and I welcome the struggles. Simply because I know that He will never leave nor forsake me. He has my best interest at heart, and He l o v e s me with an everlasting love. He delights in me. He approves of me, right here and now. There is absolutely nothing I could do to make Him love me any more or any less. If I never did another mission trip in my entire life, He would still love me the same. I am so desperately, 100% dependant on my God. And for that reason, I never have to look at my inabilities as downfalls ever again. His grace is always sufficient. So yes, this trip has been hard, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The girl who will be boarding a plane home next month is not the same girl who boarded the plane just sixty-one days ago. And He’s still not done with me yet. I can look to the future and smile, knowing that He is already there. I am so incredibly blessed, and in the midst of this mess that is my crazy life, I have never felt so fulfilled.