Just to take Him at His word.
Just to rest upon His promise,
Just to know “thus saith the Lord”.
How I trust Him!
How I’ve proved Him over and over.
Jesus, Jesus-precious Jesus!
Oh, for grace to trust Him more.
I love those lyrics. I love the affirmation that “Yes, my trust is wrapped up in Jesus”, with the quiet plea for the grace needed to trust Him more.
We really can trust Jesus. I cling to that lately, as the bittersweet ebb and flow of a life turned upside down causes tears to spring to my eyes at the most unexpected moments. I came home the other night to the dismal discovery that my dog had chewed through a basket and left the pieces recklessly strewn about the hallway.
And I cried. I cried like an emotionally disturbed child who just wanted to take her E-Z Bake Oven into the bathtub with her. I believe that was the moment that I came to the startling realization that I am, in fact, in the midst of trying to adjust to this new piece of my life. And some days, it’s hard. This much change at one time makes my head spin.
Don’t get me wrong-there are an infinite number of things I love about being home. I can’t do justice to how glorious it is to be around the people I’ve missed so much until somebody teaches me how to do a cartwheel!
The thing is, there are other people that I miss now. Life as I knew it for two years is done-and suddenly, Dakar feels very much like Narnia must have felt to Lucy after the White Witch had been defeated. It was an entirely different world that was real and somewhere-…but she was never quite certain as to how to get back. As the years slipped by, she must have fought the gnawing feeling that her time in the snowy land past the wardrobe doors had simply been a dream.
Some days, Dakar feels like it never really happed. But in the drowsy split-second between sleep and my eyes fluttering open in the morning, I sometimes still half-expect to wake up on the dirty floor next to Michelle as the drunken lullaby of the mosque echoes throughout our room.
But I don’t wake up next to Michelle anymore. In fact, there are very few things about my life that are unchanged. It’s a sweet opportunity to press into Jesus and make much of Him-…and when I’m not doing that, I’ve sadly perfected the subtle art of taking my stress out on my favorite people. Let’s be real.
One of my first days at work, my boss handed me a credit card and asked me to run to the Apple store to buy an Ipad as a door prize for an event we were hosting. I drove to the mall in a sort of daze, unable to wrap my mind around the idea that we were about to spend over 500 dollars on a door prize, when there are people that I know just a seven and a half hour plane ride away that can’t always afford to eat. I’m not saying it was wrong. I’m just saying it was hard for me to do it.
It feels almost as though I’ve borrowed someone else’s life. That the cubicle at work, the pencil skirts and heels, the air conditioned car, the gloriously fluffy bed-those can’t possibly be mine. Something in me hesitates to buy a full gallon of milk-as though at any moment, I might discover that it’s time to leave again, and have to gulp down the whole thing before hopping on a plane.
I’ve said that I’m going to keep up with the blog, and I intend to. It’s just that these days, I’m not always entirely certain as to what to write about. The stories are so different now. But Jesus is the same, and He’s called me here every bit as intentionally as He called me to Africa. So hang with me as I figure out what that looks like-and how to write it down. :)