Recently, my beautiful, remarkably persistent, leader, Danielle, insisted that I join her for a jog.
Danielle: “Just to the bridge, and back! A mile and a half.”
Me: “Sure, okay. Why not?” (Note: Read this in an annoyingly naïve voice.)
Let me tell you “why not”:
- It’s miserably hot, and deathly humid.
- Thanks to AIM’s “lovely” dress code, this war will be fought in long pants.
- Frogs, snakes and tarantulas. Need I say more?
Yet, despite endless complaining, and extreme paranoia, I stumbled along, drenched in sweat. A dog chased me, and I’m 99% sure I swallowed a bug, but I did it… AND. LOVED. EVERY. MINUTE.
The Lord made himself present everywhere: A precious child yelling “Hello! Hello!”, the endless fields of rice patties, vibrant greens and blues, and glass-like rivers twinkling under the afternoon sun. I tearfully acknowledged His Greatness and Power in such beauty, and prayed (in between shallow breaths, of course) aloud; a bold demonstration of faith that once terrified me.
My jog with Danielle, Savannah (a teammate I’ve come to adore), and God, quickly became a highly-anticipated, daily activity.
However, one particularly muggy afternoon, in the midst of praying for the strength to not die, I heard three, unmistakably clear words:
“You’ve been running.”
Why, yes, Lord. I have been running. How kind of you to notice.
“Lauren, you’ve been running.”
Mhm… And?
“You’ve been running.”
My stomach suddenly dropped; I understood.
For 4.5 years, I willingly surrendered portions of my heart to a tiny village in the middle of the Dominican Republic. I loved the people, my people, so dearly that, when I was forced to say goodbye, it physically hurt. I felt my heart shatter; the jagged shards scraping against my chest. For months, I’ve grieved. I’ve mourned. I’ve ached to return. My emotional wounds have yet to heal. So,
I’ve been running.
From intimacy with my team. From the ministry here in Cambodia. From loving others so dearly, that it physically hurts. From God’s purpose…
I would genuinely love to discuss the step-by-step process of how I’ve been totally healed, enabled to love wholeheartedly, and ecstatic to leave slivers of my heart in Cambodia and Thailand. But I can’t do that.
I’m not healed, falling deeply in love with ministry scares me, and I don’t know if my heavy heart can withstand more grief.
How was I going to be effective to those I minister to?
Tenderly, the Lord spoke. “Seek joy.”
I was skeptical of joy’s effectiveness, and my ability to even seek such a gift.
However, I dove into the following day, hopeful, desperately “seeking joy”. Upon arriving at New Hope for Orphans, my lovely Dina left his perch on the dorm patio, tearing past the other boys to embrace me. I welcomed him with open arms, my heart overcome with adoration. I smiled as I squeezed him tighter.
Joy. Pure joy.
??I’ve ultimately decided to take this healing process one step at a time. Today,
I will seek joy.
