So Easy, So Hard.
I'm frustrated.
I shouldn't be, but I am.
My mom has always described me as a "homebody," because, well, I am. Although, I believe when I gave my life to Christ He flipped the switch on that. Change challenges me. And to be honest, I really stink at it. I get attached to routines, people, and places easily. I didn't understand why God made me that way. I was that way my whole life. I cried for at least a week when I moved from 6th to 7th grade, just because of the change. I recently realized why.
God has called me to the mission field. What happens in the mission field? Change. Everything is always changing. People are coming and going, ministries and churches are in and out. I think I've struggled with change all of my life because God was preparing me for even bigger changes that are still to come. Yes, sometimes the thought of moving to a third-world country scares the loonies out of me, but then I remember who is sending me.
There is a huge change coming, in well... less than three days. I am moving to Charlotte to start nursing school. I know this is where God wants me, so that is where i find my ultimate comfort. He wouldn't put me any where, where His plan would not prevail... obviously. But yes, it is a change, and a big one at that. I know God has me going to nursing school so I can be better equipped in the mission field, but I also wondered, why else? Why Charlotte? Why not Asheville, or somewhere else? I know there is a greater prupose than a degree waiting for me in Charlotte. So, I began praying about it. Why did God want me in a big city, when I hate cities. Why did God want me in America when I'd rather be else where? Why did God want me going to school with typical college students who more than likely don't understand me or my God?
Well the answer hit me hard.
Really hard.
I was writing in my journal one day when I was very frustrated with where I was headed. I started writing about missing my kids in Uganda, missing the simple African life, even missing the difficult, life-altering hardships I faced there. I wrote, "I love those kids, I love the Ugandan people. They are so easy to love," and then there it was. God has a way of telling us exactly what we need to hear through our own words and thoughts.
Of course, orphans are easy to love.
Of course, girls rescued from sex trafficking are easy to love.
Of course, the suffering widow is easy to love.
It was this: These children of God are easy for me to love.
Americans who think they have it all (including myself at times) are HARD to love. So hard to love.
At least for me, that is. I'm so good at immediately writing people off because they are Americans, with nice cars, and name brand clothes. Even family. But you know what? I'm that snobby American more often than not. As much as I hate to admit it. I never want to be "that girl that went to Africa and hates everything American and every American," because you know what? Every American around me is just as valuable in the eyes of God as every African I encountered in Uganda.
It took God wrecking my heart through prayer this last month to realize the lost and lonely here need God just as much as the lost, parentless, homeless, scared child in a third-world country. God is sending me to Charlotte not only to equip me to care for the sick, but to teach me how to love people here, to teach me how to love ALL of His children. So, here I go. I'm taking on a new change and a new challenge, but definitely not alone, because if I were alone, I would fail. I am doing it with God holding my hand, every step of the way. And praise Him for that!
I shouldn't be, but I am.
My mom has always described me as a "homebody," because, well, I am. Although, I believe when I gave my life to Christ He flipped the switch on that. Change challenges me. And to be honest, I really stink at it. I get attached to routines, people, and places easily. I didn't understand why God made me that way. I was that way my whole life. I cried for at least a week when I moved from 6th to 7th grade, just because of the change. I recently realized why.
God has called me to the mission field. What happens in the mission field? Change. Everything is always changing. People are coming and going, ministries and churches are in and out. I think I've struggled with change all of my life because God was preparing me for even bigger changes that are still to come. Yes, sometimes the thought of moving to a third-world country scares the loonies out of me, but then I remember who is sending me.
There is a huge change coming, in well... less than three days. I am moving to Charlotte to start nursing school. I know this is where God wants me, so that is where i find my ultimate comfort. He wouldn't put me any where, where His plan would not prevail... obviously. But yes, it is a change, and a big one at that. I know God has me going to nursing school so I can be better equipped in the mission field, but I also wondered, why else? Why Charlotte? Why not Asheville, or somewhere else? I know there is a greater prupose than a degree waiting for me in Charlotte. So, I began praying about it. Why did God want me in a big city, when I hate cities. Why did God want me in America when I'd rather be else where? Why did God want me going to school with typical college students who more than likely don't understand me or my God?
Well the answer hit me hard.
Really hard.
I was writing in my journal one day when I was very frustrated with where I was headed. I started writing about missing my kids in Uganda, missing the simple African life, even missing the difficult, life-altering hardships I faced there. I wrote, "I love those kids, I love the Ugandan people. They are so easy to love," and then there it was. God has a way of telling us exactly what we need to hear through our own words and thoughts.
Of course, orphans are easy to love.
Of course, girls rescued from sex trafficking are easy to love.
Of course, the suffering widow is easy to love.
It was this: These children of God are easy for me to love.
Americans who think they have it all (including myself at times) are HARD to love. So hard to love.
At least for me, that is. I'm so good at immediately writing people off because they are Americans, with nice cars, and name brand clothes. Even family. But you know what? I'm that snobby American more often than not. As much as I hate to admit it. I never want to be "that girl that went to Africa and hates everything American and every American," because you know what? Every American around me is just as valuable in the eyes of God as every African I encountered in Uganda.
It took God wrecking my heart through prayer this last month to realize the lost and lonely here need God just as much as the lost, parentless, homeless, scared child in a third-world country. God is sending me to Charlotte not only to equip me to care for the sick, but to teach me how to love people here, to teach me how to love ALL of His children. So, here I go. I'm taking on a new change and a new challenge, but definitely not alone, because if I were alone, I would fail. I am doing it with God holding my hand, every step of the way. And praise Him for that!
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