Re-entry. My world has been rocked! Returning from my first trip to Africa is proving to be an incredibly tough journey. Everyone warned me about how hard it is to leave your home with great material wealth and visit a land lacking any sense of material treasures. However, I cannot even begin to articulate if that is indeed my challenge. All I know is that my emotions are running way ahead of me…either sloshing out of me wherever I step or being used to defend myself from an individual who cannot see the invisible sign around my neck stating, “Bubble space needed…experiencing re-entry”.
In fact, I feel there is not much left of the person I was when I headed out to Africa. That version of me is gone. I feel like a fragile shell of my original self and God has hollowed out my insides to transform and change me. This is a very painful process and it is NOT where I want to be.
Or is it?
In Isaiah 64:8, it states, “Yet you, Lord, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.” I believe that if we choose to follow God, we must be willing to be like clay in His hands to be worked and molded in His way and time. This is the price I have chosen to pay. The price of saying yes to His calling to speak out for my sisters suffering from fistula. The price of saying yes to the journey to Angola to meet these sisters. My heart, which felt so intact, now feels broken. God’s peace, which felt so close at hand, now feels elusive…like grabbing at a statue made of sand or Jell-O. My corner of the world, which once felt so right, now feels as if I am wearing an outfit made for someone else. It’s not that God is not with me. He never leaves. However, I am in the process of being changed anew. It hurts deep down in the soul of who I am, but I know peace, God’s perfect peace, is there for the taking, a gift from Him. He is near. His time. His way. His plan. I am His clay.
However, the price I am currently paying, even though great in my view, is so very small in comparison to the price these sisters of mine have paid, are currently paying and will pay in the days to come. May this fragile shell of who I was become once again a mighty Ezer warrior for Him, as God equips me with bolder words, greater courage, and bigger vision as I speak out for my sisters.
At this time, God has not called me to live overseas, but He has called me to continue to be one of the many voices attempting to bridge the gap between the material “haves” and material “have nots”. To encourage those who have to give their lives for those who do not. Life for me has changed. May I live it for Him. May I continue to say yes, no matter the price or pain. Will you join me?