To most it probably seems so soon, but to me it seems too long to have waited before writing much, if anything, about my recent trip. My proximity to my Russian experience dwindles with each day. Try as I may to keep each memory and lesson solidly with me, I struggle to balance what I now know with the life I continue to live. Fear and doubt consumed much of my thinking prior to departure… After all, it was different than I thought it was going to be. I’ve so safely assumed different to always be worse, without acknowledging the truth that different is often better… And even more than that, different is what I need. In the book, Spiritual Birthline, Robert Dolibois makes this comment, “Interventions in my own plans are initially disappointing, but in hindsight prove unquestionably to have been right for me.” And I guess, upon glancing in my rear view mirror, this is most definitely a large lesson gained through this recent experience.
Though I have spent several summers traveling to different missions, I am still absolutely struck at the way God works in the midst of my isolation. To be honest, my surprise speaks more to my immaturity than to anything else. After all, traveling into the wilderness seems to align nicely with the lessons the Lord has been showing me throughout this year. The Lord is not haphazard or inconsistent in seeing a lesson all the way through. I guess my hope for providence usurped my desire for growth temporarily and, subsequently, I resented my certain place hoping only for my sacred place at the time. Community is good, but being romanced by the King on an adventure alone is something of unspeakable value. To cleave to the things that don’t come naturally fosters a new trust, a heightened intimacy, and, frankly, and understanding of the intricate architecture of my personal faith.
If asked today “How was your trip?” I would undoubtedly say it was good and that the Lord taught me much. And while both are entirely true, the walk from beginning to end was painful, incredible, and oddly safe despite the apparent danger around many corners. Typical mission or not, there is something about leaving the country that brings me closer to the Lord. Perhaps it is dependence or, in some way, independence from the daily drudgery that plagues my mind. A step away from the typical allows access to regions not quickly accessed in the day to day of surface conversations and obligatory meetings. So often we hear the term “wherever the Lord leads” only to concede that we had really mapped out and decided upon our own direction with hopeful aspirations that the Lord would not act against it. But when His force does in fact act upon our decision we are given a new choice: we can choose his perfect plan or we can choose to act as if we know best the where, when and how of coming to meet his divine presence. The quicker we concede to the former, the faster the holy spirit can shape us into our new creation. For it is not me who chooses my path to God’s connection, but rather God who grants it and waits for compliance. I have come to see that my frustration is most heightened by what I deem as God’s failure to use the map I so kindly drew for him. But let’s be realistic here… My map had a destination… A confession of my limit. It is impossible for me to sketch a set of directions towards infinitude. For it is a place I am not to know, but accept as a gift with grace.
Ministry in Russia moves forward with a confidence preceding assurance. Nothing is guaranteed… The clubhouse in jeopardy… The campsite unseen… The campers mostly unknown. When I asked about a budget they said there was none. And yet, movement commences without the necessity of promise. There they move without knowing because waiting for knowledge almost always secures missed opportunity. I think America has both blessed and destroyed me. It has caused me to always want a plan and yield until one exists. In other places that luxury just does not occur. It’s why my spirit hesitated to surrender quickly to the new plan of traveling alone… And, essentially, it’s why I struggle to obey with expediency more often than not. To me, the new plan made very little sense… but now I see that God rarely dwells in “sense.” Sense is something bred by humans. The illogical and improbable however… Well, that is of a godly substance. The further I progress in the dwelling of His kingdom the more I recognize that “impossible” is a mortal term and not at all restricting of our creator. In the end, it’s merely a matter of willingness to know this triune God through means of ruthless trust and obedience. To live in the deepest parts of God’s heart, one must dig to get there. We cannot presume that depth comes from easy and unchallenged living… It comes not from symphony, but from cacophony… A disruption from the harmony of everyday living to take up our cross and intentionally follow the Lord. It’s a scary thought to petition the Lord to wreck this life I’ve come to know… But surely He will and it’s only here where healing truly begins.
