Fear & Trust

When the lights go out {A Life Overseas}

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Elizabeth is over at A Life Overseas today . . .

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I want to do all the things. All the very good things there are to do in this world. So I overcommit myself. I don’t say “no.” I say “yes” instead, and spread myself too thin. Then my soul suffers. My work suffers. My sanity suffers. My family life suffers. My spiritual life suffers.

I suffer in silence, thinking I’m all alone. I’m the only one failing at everything. I’m the only one who can’t pull it together. I’m the only one who can’t catch my breath, who can’t catch up on work, who can’t catch up on school, who can’t catch up with friends, who can’t catch up with the God I say I love so very much.

And I, insecure missionary blogger that I am, am afraid to tell people.

To top all that off, the heat in Southeast Asia has been crushing me. The past two months have held record highs here, and we get a lot of power cuts. I echo Ramona Quimby in Ramona the Brave who shouted out “Guts! Guts guts guts!” when she wanted to say bad words. Instead, I yell “Cuts! Cuts cuts cuts!” and very nearly lose my mind.

After one particularly grueling 12-hour all-night power outage, something inside me broke — flat out broke. I lost my hope. I began to question everything. Why are we here? Why can’t we live in America? Why exactly do I serve this God of mine? And where the heck is He when I can barely sleep or even breathe in this heat?

I was struggling under the weight of all the expectations I had for myself: be a good mom, be a good wife, be a good home educator, be a good missionary, be a good team leader’s wife, be a good friend, be a good writer, be a good editor, be a good Christ-follower. And I couldn’t do any of it.

Finish reading this post here.

The Gaping Hole in the Modern Missions Movement {A Life Overseas}

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Jonathan is over at A Life Overseas today, sharing a two-part message about the need to integrate the Psalms into our missiology. Check out Part 1 here and then read Part 2.

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Grief on a Spindle (a poem)

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I’ve been hesitant to publish this poem, as I’ve never written poetry before, and it came out of a very dark time in my life. But I’m no longer in that dark place, and I now feel I can offer it up to my readers, who may perhaps share my experience. ~Elizabeth

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Will You draw out my grief,

Spin it on Your spindle?

For my grief is hard to spin,

I always resist it.

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It lies in wait, it’s been misplaced,

Matted up with rage and fear.

The coil’s too tight, the thread’s not right

There is no bending here.

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This wool’s unfit for weaving,

My heart is unprepared for healing.

And my pain demands disclosure:

Is Love enough to form my skein?

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So spin my grief upon Your spindle

Gently draw out yarn afresh.

Spin my grief upon Your spindle,

For my soul, it needs to stretch.

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Spin my grief upon Your spindle,

I want to learn Your love anew.

Spin my grief upon Your spindle,

Clear out the muck that sticks like glue.

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Spin my grief upon Your spindle,

Coat it with Your oil of Love.

Spin my grief upon Your spindle,

Weave a tapestry above.

Ain’t Nobody Got Time for That

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by Elizabeth

Rejection.

It’s the main story I tell myself.

“That person doesn’t like me.”

“That person is talking bad about me to others.”

“That person is rejecting me.”

But today I choose to reject rejection.

I choose to believe that God loves me and that I have a purpose and calling in life.

I choose to believe that the people closest to me, the most important people, love and accept me.

I choose not to give in to discouragement and the voices in my head that tell me I’m not wanted.

Or at least, today I’m choosing to choose those things.

Because I don’t have time for that.

I’ve got messages to share and people to encourage.

I’ve got calling and purpose, and I refuse to be waylaid by the voices in my head.

Who’s with me?

–

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The Far Side of Somewhere {A Life Overseas}

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by Elizabeth

I remember my first home service. All those awkward experiences like drinking water from the tap and flushing the toilet with potable water again. Or feeling naked and exposed with no metal security bars on the windows. Or handing payment to cashiers with two hands (like I do in Cambodia) and then being embarrassed, because normal people don’t do that here.

What was up with the laundry smelling nice, all the time? (Come to think of it, what was up with everything smelling nice, all the time?) Could a load of laundry really take a mere two hours to complete, all the way from wash to wear, without having to hang on the line for two or three days in rainy season andstill be damp — and smelling of fire and whatever dish the neighbors last cooked over said fire??

I wanted someone to explain to me why Americans felt the need to store hot water in a tank. Seemed like such a waste of energy when you could use a tankless water heater instead, thereby providing a never-ending source of hot water for yourself. (Running out of hot water in the winter is a big problem for me.)

Today I’m facing another home service. I’ll click publish on this blog post and leave my Cambodia home. I’ll board a plane and begin the process of temporarily re-entering my American home.

Continue reading at A Life Overseas…