St. Maarten: Day 4
We're back home now, and I'm tired. But I want to write about everything before my weak memory fails me.
I think by this day, the last full day of our trip, I was tired, stressed, and feeling completely unlike myself. I'm not quite sure how to explain it, but when I'm out of my routine and normal surroundings, I slowly seem to lose myself. Things just don't feel right. I think and act differently than I normally would. Add the weight of a huge decision to that, and I was just feeling weird.
Our day was much more relaxing than the previous one. We spent the morning at Dawn Beach, sitting on the sand in front of a snazzy resort. It was one of those moments when I almost forgot why I was on this island. Then, when I remembered, I foolishly thought, "This wouldn't be so bad." Of course, I know that our time there, if we moved, would not be spent relaxing on a beautiful beach, but it seemed like a comforting thought at the time.
When we were forced back to reality, we drove into Marigot, the capital of the French side of the island and had lunch at a charming French cafe. That was one seriously yummy panini. We strolled through the streets looking for real estate offices to try to get some idea of what we could afford if we came back one day to stay. I left hopeful, but that didn't last. You see, I was coming face to face with the reality that I am a completely spoiled and selfish clean freak who thinks bugs (especially roaches) in large quantities and funny smelling places are nightmarish. The thought that plagued me the most about moving to St. Maarten was having to live in a stinky, bug-infested, hot, downright yucky apartment. By the end of the day, I was pretty much convinced that would be the case, and that did not sit well with me. This is just the ugly truth of who I am and not something I would easily move past. Can't really explain it, but I'm just sayin'.
That was pretty much it until that evening when the guys went back to the Bible class and Lisa and I went and spent time with Stacey. By that time, I was near my breaking point, but managed to hold it together during our three-hour visit. I loved getting to hear more about Stacey's life and background and was amazed to hear where she had come from to where she is now. I certainly take my wonderful childhood and family for granted sometimes.
Not really sure what to say about the rest of the evening, except to say that I finally lost it. It's not as if anything horrible had happened on the trip, but I was ending it not reassured, but desperately, suffocatingly homesick and lonely. I'm not sure if it was my fault or not, but I did not experience God's presence like I was hoping to on this trip. I knew this whole missionary thing would be incredibly hard for me(which doesn't even express it), so I was looking for God to place such a call or burden on my heart for these people that I would be willing to overlook all my fears and follow Him there. Here it was time to leave, and all I had was fear, guilt, lonliness, homesickness, frustration, anger, and confusion. No peace. No comfort. No call. I was only left with the ugly reality that I was freaked out about my own physical comfort instead of having an overwhelming desire to minister here. It's so hard to weed through what is my own selfishness and lack of surrender and what is just a lack of God's call.
I think Chris and I both left very disappointed (although he enjoyed his time there much more than I did - which goes without saying for those of you who know both of us). We had prayed for God to speak, and while we both came away with new thoughts and emotions and our own desires, neither of us could say we heard Him speak. So, we are left with a huge decision. I'm not sure what God is doing here or where I am right now spiritually, but what can I do but keep praying and seeking Him? I'll struggle with guilt for not feeling more compassion for others than concern for myself, but only God can really change my heart on that. I want to be the kind of person who is willing and ready to live in a bug-infested scorching place for Jesus, but evidently I'm not there yet. I don't want to be the kind of person who is freakishly obsessed with cleanliness, but it is so ingrained in me, I think I'll always struggle with it.
The trip was good for me. It stretched me and showed me some very ugly truths about myself. It reminded me that I am unworthy of God's love and grace and that there are so many out there who are in such spiritual, mental, emotional, and physical need. Where do we go from here? God only knows, and He ain't tellin'.
I think by this day, the last full day of our trip, I was tired, stressed, and feeling completely unlike myself. I'm not quite sure how to explain it, but when I'm out of my routine and normal surroundings, I slowly seem to lose myself. Things just don't feel right. I think and act differently than I normally would. Add the weight of a huge decision to that, and I was just feeling weird.
Our day was much more relaxing than the previous one. We spent the morning at Dawn Beach, sitting on the sand in front of a snazzy resort. It was one of those moments when I almost forgot why I was on this island. Then, when I remembered, I foolishly thought, "This wouldn't be so bad." Of course, I know that our time there, if we moved, would not be spent relaxing on a beautiful beach, but it seemed like a comforting thought at the time.
When we were forced back to reality, we drove into Marigot, the capital of the French side of the island and had lunch at a charming French cafe. That was one seriously yummy panini. We strolled through the streets looking for real estate offices to try to get some idea of what we could afford if we came back one day to stay. I left hopeful, but that didn't last. You see, I was coming face to face with the reality that I am a completely spoiled and selfish clean freak who thinks bugs (especially roaches) in large quantities and funny smelling places are nightmarish. The thought that plagued me the most about moving to St. Maarten was having to live in a stinky, bug-infested, hot, downright yucky apartment. By the end of the day, I was pretty much convinced that would be the case, and that did not sit well with me. This is just the ugly truth of who I am and not something I would easily move past. Can't really explain it, but I'm just sayin'.
That was pretty much it until that evening when the guys went back to the Bible class and Lisa and I went and spent time with Stacey. By that time, I was near my breaking point, but managed to hold it together during our three-hour visit. I loved getting to hear more about Stacey's life and background and was amazed to hear where she had come from to where she is now. I certainly take my wonderful childhood and family for granted sometimes.
Not really sure what to say about the rest of the evening, except to say that I finally lost it. It's not as if anything horrible had happened on the trip, but I was ending it not reassured, but desperately, suffocatingly homesick and lonely. I'm not sure if it was my fault or not, but I did not experience God's presence like I was hoping to on this trip. I knew this whole missionary thing would be incredibly hard for me(which doesn't even express it), so I was looking for God to place such a call or burden on my heart for these people that I would be willing to overlook all my fears and follow Him there. Here it was time to leave, and all I had was fear, guilt, lonliness, homesickness, frustration, anger, and confusion. No peace. No comfort. No call. I was only left with the ugly reality that I was freaked out about my own physical comfort instead of having an overwhelming desire to minister here. It's so hard to weed through what is my own selfishness and lack of surrender and what is just a lack of God's call.
I think Chris and I both left very disappointed (although he enjoyed his time there much more than I did - which goes without saying for those of you who know both of us). We had prayed for God to speak, and while we both came away with new thoughts and emotions and our own desires, neither of us could say we heard Him speak. So, we are left with a huge decision. I'm not sure what God is doing here or where I am right now spiritually, but what can I do but keep praying and seeking Him? I'll struggle with guilt for not feeling more compassion for others than concern for myself, but only God can really change my heart on that. I want to be the kind of person who is willing and ready to live in a bug-infested scorching place for Jesus, but evidently I'm not there yet. I don't want to be the kind of person who is freakishly obsessed with cleanliness, but it is so ingrained in me, I think I'll always struggle with it.
The trip was good for me. It stretched me and showed me some very ugly truths about myself. It reminded me that I am unworthy of God's love and grace and that there are so many out there who are in such spiritual, mental, emotional, and physical need. Where do we go from here? God only knows, and He ain't tellin'.
Thank you for being so open and honest Amy. You have a lot to process right now and it might take awhile. He will tell when its time!
ReplyDeleteI appreciate you being so real, Amy. I know you know God is faithful and He will give you an answer at the right time!
ReplyDeleteThink about all the times in your life when you knew you were doing what God asked you to do...joining NP or not doing two Bunko Groups at the same time... you know what his voice sounds like. I would picture myself not going and then move in a different direction and if you start feeling The Holy Spirit's conviction to give it another look, then do it. You already know what I think! :-)
ReplyDelete