I Feel Full

 

I have been puting off writing this because it’s almost impossible to express the depth of the Holy Spirit that has been surging through me. As Chris Tomlin once told us, Jesus is “indescribable.” 

 

I could write novels of the experiences I have had, the people I have met, and the way I have seen God move. Each day was a brand new adventure of being surrounded by the sweet, still presence of God. 

 

Maybe someday I will write a novel of the sprinkles of heaven I have seen in the little village in Cambodia. But, for now, I will gather these experiences like a bouquet of wildflowers in a bow: 

 

 

I definitely don’t mean in the sense of hunger as a steamed rice and hot sauce diet quiets but doesn’t wipe away my cravings for peanut butter, Special K with Berries, and Chipotle. 

 

I am talking about full in Spirit. 

 

I have never had such a satisfaction in my soul, in who I am as a daughter of God, than I have in Cambodia. The most beautiful thing about this sensation is that I literally can not define it — it cannot be watered down to the finality of words. 

 

Growing up in church, I always heard of this interconnection with the Holy Spirit, but I didn’t quite understand it.

 

[I had to find it for myself.]

 

“The soul seeks God with its whole being. Because it is desperate to be whole. The soul is God-smitten, God-crazy, and God-obsessed. My mind may be obsessed with idols; my will may be enslaved to habits; my body may be consumed with appetites. But, my soul will never find rest until it rests in God.” 

— John Ortberg 

 

There were times at the orphanage when I felt so “full” I could almost burst. Psalm 37:4, “Delight in the Lord,” personified. 

 

There is a woman named “Makya” who cooks for the children at the orphanage. She is in her seventies, but that doesn’t stop her from chopping down sugar cane with a machete.

I felt an attachment to her, probably due to my deep love for my own grandmothers. I would venture over to see Makya as much as I could. Mostly alone. One day, as I was walking up to the children’s home, Makya began to wave her little arms. “Kaeton!!” She screamed. I ran to her, bent down, she put my face in her hands and kissed both cheeks. We walked over to the kitchen and sat on the tables. This particular day was beautiful and breezy, the setting sun reaching out with hungry hands for the edge of the earth.

We sat hand-in-hand and watched. We didn’t talk (she doesn’t speak English anyway). We held onto one another as we absorbed the masterpiece that is God’s creation. I remember feeling an ache in my heart, kind of like the Grinch at the end of the movie when his heart grows. 

 

Of joy. 

Of contentment. 

Of Jesus. 

 

If anyone ever asks me why I believe in Jesus, I would bottle up that feeling I had in my heart and gift it to them.

 

——> Absolutely nothing else can grant you such a relief. I pray everyone tastes that delight. 

 

I had an abundance of instances such as this. My cup is overflowing… 

 

My team had the privilege to raise $2000 for the kids. We purchased bikes for them to be able to travel to and from school. One morning at 4:30am we took a bike ride to an old temple to watch the sunrise. We used our headlamps to dimly reveal the puddled path. We brought our Bibles, journals, and open hearts to the highest peak. It was dark. The sun began to coyly peak over the horizon, showering us with light and warmth. I peered around at my teammates and I felt FULL. 

 

I felt the FULLNESS of God surrounding me in the expanding rice fields, winding dirt roads, and tall trees. 

I physically felt the Lord. There was no question of His presence. 

 

I got sick on the last day at the orphanage. I went to tell my leader how I was feeling and about halfway there, I almost passed out — my vision blurred, my hearing left, and  I started to shake. 

So, I took a detour to the first bench I saw where I could sit down and breathe. I laid down on the hard bench and tried to imagine the pain away by focusing on anything else I could possibly think of. I started to regain my composure and I could feel myself falling into a state of relaxation I had been longing for. As soon as this relief hit, I heard a bright voice sing, “Kaeton!” I opened my watering eyes and there before me were three innocent, unjaded, joyous children.

 

I rose, shakily, and tried to muster a smile as they had no idea as to why I was lying on this random bench. Susan, one of the girls, placed a book in my hand — a bible story book for kids. She climbed into my lap, the others took their places on either side of me. I opened the book and began to read. I read about Adam and Eve. Noah. Samson. Moses. Their childlike faith coming alive through their eagerness at each page turn. I’m not quite sure if they even knew what I was saying because they speak little to no English, but they drank every word I spoke like it was ice cold water on this sweltering September day. I smiled softly to myself as they held up their pointer fingers for “one more.” I felt that sense of magic rise in my being again. 

 

 

Even though there was no food left in my system, even though moments before I was on the verge of passing out, even though the point of me sitting down on the bench was for me to be left alone.

 

—->My soul felt anchored in something beyond myself. 

 

Kampong Cham has fostered in me a “prayerful attitude.” I have adopted the practice of being in constant conversation with the Lord.

My circumstances may change, I may be in Kentucky, Kampong Cham, Cambodia, or Chang Rai, Thailand, but my souls finds “home” in the Lord. 

 

———————

My soul is smitten for God. 

My soul is crazy for God. 

My soul is obsessed with God. 

———————

 

We are called to fill our soul with Jesus. He is PERSONAL and wants to be in constant conversation with us. Only with Him can we experience powerful joy that disrupts our circumstances. 

 

I am expectant for what Thailand has to bring.