Five Months Later

When I got on the airplane, I was sure this was the beginning of the rest of my life. A year of prayer and fundraising and letter writing and donation sorting and more prayer rested behind me, and this was going to be the part of the story where God told me, “This is what I created you for.” It only made sense. For what other reason would I have been given such a heart for the orphaned, widowed, and poverty-stricken? Wasn’t it only by the directing hand of God that twice as much money as I needed was donated for this trip? The support was overwhelming and I knew this was what God was calling me to.

I’ve listened to so many pastors, speakers, and Sunday school teachers tell me that God-followers take leaps of faith. It’s time to abandon all fear and do something radical for God. If you just open yourself up to what God is calling you to do, incredible things will happen. Do not let fear or doubt or reason hold you back. Even if it seems crazy – sometimes God asks us to do crazy things. Imagine what this world would look like if we began saying yes to the things God is asking us to do. Just say yes, MaryBeth. Just forget everything that lies behind, and run toward this calling. Say yes to God, and behold the amazing things He will do.

Then Peter spoke up, “We have left everything to follow you!”

“Truly I tell you,” Jesus replied, “no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age.”

Mark 10:28-30

And I was doing it. I was saying yes and I was ready to do radical things for the gospel of Christ. I’ve always heard this phrase during sermons that encourage people to say yes to God’s call:                   “God, I’ll do anything you want. Just, please, don’t send me to Africa.”

And I was begging Him. God, send me to Africa. I am ready. I will do it. Use me there. And change me there. And call me there. And I believed He did.

I was ready to abandon everything for His call – college, family, friends, success, money, America, comfort. I would have given it all.

Of course, I was scared to death. Out of my mind.

“For if we are out of our mind, it is for God.”

2 Corinthians 5:12

There were a few glitches along the way, but isn’t that always to be expected when doing Kingdom work?

“In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I’ve conquered the world.”

John 16:33

The moment I stepped foot on the dusty African soil, I knew something wasn’t right. I didn’t belong here – the feeling consumed me.

 When no one arrived to pick me up at the airport in which I spoke the language of not one present, I accounted it to “African time,” holding back tears as I struggled to communicate with an unfamiliar employee.

I tried to shake it off as the first orphan child I held tightly grasped the “my heart is in Ethiopia” necklace that had hung from my neck every day for the past year – and ripped it off, breaking it into my hands.

“Things happen”, I told those around me, as a deep hole began to form inside my chest.

Hours after I arrived, I thanked God that I had decided to pack my ankle brace “just in case.” My now twisted ankle screamed at me as I trudged the dusty roads to the school.

Lack of sleep was gnawing at me, and I begged my fellow missionaries to please quiet down so I could get some rest.

“Yesterday was your missionary director’s last day,” I was told one of my first mornings at the guest house. “He has packed up his things and will be moving out.”

I knew what they were really saying, though.

“There is no one in charge of you, now. You will be given no direction and treated more like a burden than a help. Hopefully you remember everything from your last trip, because there will be no instructions given on how to live, eat, or stay safe in this utterly foreign land. Just figure out your own schedule. We don’t care what you do. Figure it out.”

And day after day, I didn’t sleep save a few minutes to make time for my regular nightmares.

My mind was starting to play games with me.

“These people don’t want you here. But you are stuck here. They have trapped you here and you will never get to go home.”

You will never

Go

Home.

“I think there’s something wrong with me,” I managed to form into words through tears to my oh-so-distant mother on a sketchy phone that I borrowed/stole from someone in the house.

It only took us about ten times make the call connect.

Yet I felt like she was my only source of sanity. She was holding me together whether she knew it or not. In this foreign world where I did not belong – everyone and everything was a stranger. All day, every day, I only thought about whether I would be able to reach my mom that night. Hear her voice. Her comforting words, ensuring me that,

 “Everything will be okay, baby. The doctor said you need to come home now, and I am going to do everything I can to get you back as soon as possible. I love you.”

She was my hope.

“The doctor said this medicine has been known to cause suicidal thoughts to some people who have severe adverse reactions to it.”

I guess I had a severe adverse reaction to the medicine.

Five months later, I wonder if I’m having a severe adverse reaction to the trip.

To the broken dreams.

To the crushed expectations.

To the doubting of God’s faithfulness.

To the pieces of a necklace and pieces of a heart that were ripped from me.

To the now confused idea of doing radical things for God.

To the end of the plans I had for the rest of my life.

A few days ago I sat through a sermon much like the ones I heard before I left. The ones that convinced me to say yes to those big things God was calling me to.

“Imagine what God could do if you abandoned your fears and said yes to that thing you know He is asking you do right now.”

Imagine.

I said yes, God.

I thought this was what you wanted me to do.

Did I read you so horribly wrong? Did I let my pride get in the way of your will?

Why would you call me to this…and then rip it away from me in such a brutal way?

I sunk into a depression when I returned from Ethiopia that still hasn’t lifted.

Was this the path you had for me, God? Or did I somehow mess it up and turn it into this disaster?

Is this just one of those things that “happens,” and I can focus on the bad in it or I can focus on the good? It’s my choice.

The pastor the other night told me I need to say yes to God. To whatever He is asking me to do.

But my main question really is this….

Why would I do that again?

If this is what happens when you say yes, why would I ever offer up another yes?

I know what you’re thinking.

God is using this experience to grow you stronger. He is forcing you to rely on Him during this time. He is going to make all things work together for your good. He is faithful. He doesn’t plan for terrible things to happen to us. You may not be able to see it now, but something good will come from this. It’s hard to see the big picture right now. Just be patient. Lean on God. He is teaching you. He still has plans in this. God doesn’t promise that things will be easy, He only promises that He will be with us every step of the way.

Believe me, I have pondered, wrestled with, thrown into the trash, dug through and picked back up, cried out, yelled, sobbed through, and exhausted all of the above and more.

I’m not saying they’re not true.

I’m just saying that I’m tired of the clichés. And I’m tired of hearing the same things over and over again from every person attempting to “look on the bright side.”

This trip sucked.

It was the hardest, most scary, awful thing I have ever experienced in my life.

And it took away my dreams.

And now I don’t know what my dreams are.

And that’s a really scary place to be.

I feel like I had to start rebuilding who I am when I returned.

And I haven’t gotten very far.

Probably because I’m still holding on to who I wanted to be.

That crazy African missionary girl.