October 27, 2009 will always
symbolize, at least for me, the day that all that I have been struggling with
and longing to give up for months came to a head. It began with the unexpected
5 a.m. wake up call and the abrupt command to be ready to go in 5 minutes. I
groggily grabbed my backpack, threw on some clothes, and ran out the door,
shocked to alertness by the unexpected cold that pierced through my summer
clothing. They soon had us piled in the vans and we were on our way to who
knows where. An hour later I was sitting on a cold bench in the middle of
Matamoras, trying to be holy and really only thinking of my quickly numbing
feet and of my longed for sweatshirt and socks. In short, my quiet time became
a wrestling match between my fleshy desires and spiritual longings. My journal
became filled with the confusing thoughts of what I longed to give but felt
incapable of giving. Everything within my spirit knew what He was asking and my
flesh was letting out a war cry. It wasn't settled in 2 hours and only became
more intense as my flesh was yet denied again and we were driven to, yet again,
"who knows where."  There were so
many twist and turns during the drive that my half-asleep mind soon gave up on
keeping track and just settled into the moment, trying to be content "in every
situation" and for the most part succeeding, despite my cramping stomach and my
spoiled, sleep deprived body. The van soon stopped and we all filed out.
Someone handed me a sack of 6 sandwiches, 2 apples, 3 mystery envelopes, and the
information that they would soon be dropping us off in the poorest parts of
Matamoras (known as colonial India) to stay for the day until 5 p.m. My heart
dropped a beat. My spirit screamed, "Yes, this is what I was made for, signed
up for!" My flesh quietly remained stubborn, longing for the comfort that my
American body had become so use to. After getting stuck in mud in our
conveniently over-sized white vans, we were soon dropped off on the side of the
road and left with the Spirit to guide us wherever He willed. Us 6 girls were
soon stomping through the mud and I was praying, trying to get my heart aligned
with whatever the Spirit had prepared for us. We had soon made a round trip
around the block with only one incident of a very abruptly begun and very
abruptly ended comical conversation with a young man. Soon we were standing
outside of house trying to get the mud off of our shoes from the last escaped
mud pit. As we stood there praying and talking of what we should do next an
older man walked up to us. In broken Spanish Kathleen and Nadia began talking
to him, after a short conversation we prayed for him and than asked him if
there was anything we could do for the community (one of our instructed goals
to fulfill in the mystery envelopes). Because our Spanish was so broken we
could not communicate very well and he soon walked off with what we hoped was a
promise to bring someone back who knew English. After about 10 minutes we began
to despair of the hope he was ever coming back, and were about to leave when a
woman walked out to come and meet us. We could tell that it was completely out
of politeness that she was even going to talk with us and although she could
not speak any English but "hello" we were able to carry on a conversation with
her. After praying together, the ice seemed to break and soon we were inside
her house looking at the jewelry she made to support herself and her 3 boys. It
blessed my heart to be able to bless her business and I was soon humbled as I
watched this woman and the joy that seemed to be in her face and her voice as
she talked with us. As we began to leave, she embraced us completely with the
promise that her house was our house any time we came back. I was falling in
love with this woman, this community. It is strange how one can feel a complete
stranger in a place and within a mere 2 hours time feel completely at home in a
community were you don't even speak the same language, yet that is how I felt
as I left this woman's house and began to walk the streets of the community I
was in. We were miraculously provided a translator through our fellow South
Africa team literally the second we walked out of this woman's door. His name
was Juan and he began taking us to about every house on the block to pray with
and over the families. He soon had to go to work however and since it was
approaching the noon hour we decided to find a non-muddy spot and sit down for
our lunch. As my fellow teammates began breaking out the sandwiches I opened
our noon instructions and was met with 3 words. Feed 6 people. I felt rather
bad as I lifted my eyes from the paper and saw my dear friend's fallen faces as
they looked at our denied PB&Js. I quickly turned to the assigned Luke 9:
12-17 scripture reference and as I read my whole spirit got caught up in the
words "they all ate and were satisfied." My spirit could not let go of the
words and they kept on playing over and over and over in my mind as we talked
of our struggles. Sweet Kathleen tried to encourage us with the words that we
really weren't hungry we just had to subdue our spoiled children. None of us
were really believing it however, and all of our eyes were directed to a woman
walking up the street with a fruit basket on her arm. She immediately walked
straight up to us and began handing us oranges. We tried to tell her we didn't
need any and tried to hand her our sandwiches. She simply shook her head and
with a smile turned on her heels and walked off without a look back. We slowly
took our eyes of her back and each looked at each other. A smile began to break
over each one of our faces and we spent a half hour simply basking in the
goodness of our Father. The funny thing was that she handed me no orange and
yet I was satisfied. I was never hungry physically, but my spirit was longing
for something and in that second was satisfied. I knew from that point on that
He was in the mist of us, had gone before us, and was orchestrating it all for
His glory. I could rest in Him and in that rest I was completely, wholly
satisfied. From then on I began to see Him in everything. He blocked our way
and led us to some missionary men who prayed over us and blessed us. He led us
to a community who lived in a giant mud hole where we were able to bless and be
blessed by a family of 10. They lived in a shack no bigger than 4 by 6. It was
made out of a collage of driftwood, tarp, and tin. And as we helped them with
their laundry and prayed for them I was struck by the joy and unity of the
whole family. They were not disturbed by the poverty that so offended my spirit.
They lived in it and were content. The poverty I saw before did not seem to
compare to the poverty that I now witnessed, but it seemed that they thought
their poverty not as bad as the poverty that threatened others. As we left
their home behind us, I turned for but a moment and was given the joy of seeing
the joy of the children as they jumped on the sandwiches we had given. Their
faces lit up as they jumped up and down waiting for their mom to hand them out.
It blessed my heart more than I can say. I don't have time to write of all the
incidents that happened that day. But each of us learned something and took
something from that day that cannot be replaced, only strengthened. K.C. and
her puppy, Kathleen and Abby, the oranges, everything was a little kiss from
heaven that day and got my selfish eyes off my heart and onto His beauty, His
goodness. That day I could feel His strength pouring into my weakness, and
despite the weariness that did not leave and the ache that was my constant
companion I felt Him and could worship Him in a way I never could of in any
other circumstances. Rest took on a completely different meaning in my mind
that day. I could no longer define it by circumstances but it became a reality
by simply trusting in Him. And when I trusted, I rested and was satisfied.