My Own Little World

This week has been a trying week for me. Something in my heart has been off, and it felt like a piece of me was broken.

I think I realized what it was.

It was the realization that my passion for Africa had been stifled by what I had always feared . . . normalcy. It is incredible and crazy at how quickly life can knock on the door of reality and transform a person's mind and priorities. I have been juggling relationships, friends, and finding a job (and training) for the past two months. Prior to that, I was just focused on graduating. All of these priorities and expectations littered my life so that I had to wade through the debris just to find a place to sit and breathe for a moment.

But over the last two weeks, a comment has been haunting me. I was told, "I talk more about Africa than you do now."

As I type, I just want to cry. Because . . . my passion for it has not died down. It is burning brighter than ever, but perhaps my hope and belief that it will become anything more than a passion has faded. I've never needed to go to this place that has my whole heart, that God has placed such a yearning and NEED for, more than I do now. My biggest fear is that I will become the American Christian content with a medium sized church, a medium sized house, 3 kids, a stable income, 2 dogs, a cat, and contentment.

I fear it, because in gaily talking of the future with my significant other . . . that is the picture we paint. And I want to tear it apart and scream, "NO!" That is not what I want, not really. Sure, it is nice, and pretty . . . and safe. Very safe. That is why it is so alluring. It is so utterly safe. It is a foolproof plan that leaves little room for much else.

I don't want any of that. I would rather spend the rest of my life single and without children than accept that life. I want an extraordinary life, a radical life. One that lives in passion and extremity on the front lines of ministry. I want to serve in the darkest of corners, to the areas of the world no one else is offering to go. My hearts begs and pleads, "Send me, I want to be there." Yet it also looks at myself with disappointment, because I have heard the command to go since the 4th grade, and I have found excuse after excuse to not go. Normally, it was because I chose a summer with a boyfriend over a summer serving overseas. I look back on these years and just want to redo them all. I wasted so much time.

I realized over the past two months I have been more agitated than normal. More distant. I am more easily angered and much more critical of people around me. I even got into my first fight with a dear best friend. I've been trying to figure out what is wrong with me. Now, I know. I'm angry with myself, with squandering so many opportunities and settling. I'm angry that I feel like I cannot achieve what I feel like I am suppose to. And my heart is broken over it. I'm stuck trying to discover what it is that I should do.

I want to be the hands that hold the dying Aids victim. I want to be the arms that hold a young prostitute. I want to be the feet that walks among the worst of sinners, and I want to be the heart that loves them all like Jesus. I just don't want to be the girl who hears the call so clearly, but stays. I think I would surely break apart if I just accepted the American dream and played it logically and safe instead of just throwing up my hands truly, TRULY letting God take control.

I was not born to live comfortably in this world. I was born to go out into it without becoming a part of it, to reach the broken and the lost. My heart breaks over and over for this world. Some days, I swear I can actually feel the hurt of people I don't even know. I am tired of not doing anything for that. I stopped talking about Africa so it would not hurt or be saddening to not be there, but for now, I obviously cannot.

I can do good here, starting with being more active in my church and volunteering. And then . . . I will be able to do good in working with my kiddos when training finishes. But eventually . . . I will be in Africa.

"Break my heart for what breaks Yours. Give me open hands and open doors. Close my eyes and let me see, that my own little world is not about me."