To gaze through the lens of eternity

Sometimes the tears are literally veiled in by nothing more than sheer will force.  But they are there nonetheless, uninvited and unbidden, waiting for a moment of weakness to break through the dam.  I miss what was once so familiar to me. I feel trapped not being allowed to walk out my front door alone.  I miss my family.  I miss my dear roommate, Amanda.  I miss the mountains, the city, and the normalcy of living in the United States. I don’t understand this culture.  I don’t speak this language.  And I’m here.  Alone.  It’s in moments like these that I wonder if I’m doing the right thing.  And though, this may be for just a short time, I do know that He has me here…now.  He has a purpose in me being here and I will never learn that purpose if I spend my entire time here hoping to be someplace else. 

It hurts, you know.  It hurts to know that my entire family is reuniting and I am here in a strange country apart from them.  It hurts to know that God may call me to spend my entire life nowhere near the ones I love.  It is not easy for me, but my deepest desire is to glorify God in my life and actions.  Sometimes I lose sight of this goal and want nothing more than to see the sight of those glorious Wasatch Mountains and soak up the presence of those I love.  Sometimes I want to just forget it all and hop back on a plane.  But that is not why I am here.  I was not put on this earth so that I could enjoy myself and my family.  I was put here to glorify and enjoy God.  We cannot enjoy God when we are actively rebelling against Him and so I find myself here.  Right now, in this moment, it’s not where I want to be, but it is where God has put me.  So, when I gaze at this moment with an eternal perspective, I want to be nowhere else.      

Joy Amongst Inconsistency

One thing that being in a third world country has taught me is to not take for granted the blessing of consistency found in the United States.  Here, life is inconsistent.  You never know when you might return home to a house with no working electricity. If the electricity is not working, you won’t be able to cook your dinner, take a shower, or recharge your dying computer.  You never know when the Internet might go out for hours and you’ll be forced to reschedule your Skype date with a friend.  You never know if the roads will be clear enough to get where you are going in time.  You never know if the grocery store will have what you are looking for in stock.  The list could go on and on. 

            So, I am starting to thank God for each little moment He gives me.  Today I am thanking God that the electricity worked long enough for me to shower, that the Internet, which has been going on and off in roughly 5 minute intervals, worked just long enough for me to submit my homework to Moody, and that the power went back on in time for me to warm up some tea.  I used to take these things for granted, but when they could disappear at any moment, I realize just what a blessing these things truly are.  

See why the electricity is inconsistent?  :)

The City of Tegucigalpa

And so it begins

As I write this I feel a strange sense of something altogether different.  My life is changing and somehow I know that it will never be the same.  For years I have longed to arrive at this point – the time when I will finally finish my formal education and jump on that plane to a foreign land.  It sounds so adventurous doesn’t it? Now while there may indeed be an element of adventure, that’s not what drives me onward.  What could possibly impel someone to leave their family and head into a world of unknowns?  A land where no familiar face resides and home is far away. Sometimes I can’t figure it out myself, but deep down inside I have always known.  It’s Jesus.  He has always been behind my every step, driving me forward. In moments like these I wonder if I’ve understood it all correctly, but I know that this is right.  Something far beyond me gives me the strength and moves me on.

This week a Moody student drowned.  His sister was staying at the same home as me when she heard the news.  Even though I don’t really know her or her brother, the pain surrounding this campus and my current home is palpable.  Our hearts are broken as we struggle to keep our hope fixed on Christ.  Meanwhile, my family still waits in Ukraine, hoping to hear the news that Vitalik can be taken home, trusting God as they face setback after setback.  And I am here in Chicago about to board a plane. Please pray that I might trust my Savior.

I know not what is yet to come

What joy, what pain, what hope,

But this I know will all my heart –  

I rest in Him alone.