I feel like the past week has been the craziest of my entire life. It has been a tidal wave of different emotions. I have cried more and harder this past week than I think I may have cried in my entire life. And now that I'm home and sitting in my bedroom, it feels so surreal. It almost feels like I wasn't even gone. Like the past two and a half months never even happened; it was all just a dream.
I went from feeling completely broken, lost, abandoned and hopeless wednesday night to feeling at peace in my heart and trusting with all my might that this was what I was supposed to be doing to follow God's leading; it is well with my soul.
wednesday night, after the not so easy choice was layed out to me of either staying in Macas and following certain restrictions in my ministry or going home (for good), I had no idea which to choose. It was NOT that easy. And I cried out to God and asked Him how in the world could I make a choice, knowing either one did not involve the full measure of joy that Jesus wants me to have [John 17:13] in this life and especially relating to this ministry He has called me to. Either I stay in Macas and be held in chains by legalistic restrictions that immediately bring my mind to passages about the Pharisees in the Bible, or I choose to go home and murder my heart by having to leave the kids at the school, the families, my discipleship group girls. . . I didn't even know how to pray for discernment for such a decision. But I tried. I told God how much this hurt. How much I hated that this was the circumstance I had been put in. How I didn't understand how I could be expected to make a choice that day. And in all my time of prayer and crying, I did not hear God lead me to a choice. I heard Him say "ask for a week. Go home for a week." And as I continued to pray and think about actually going back for a week, I felt continual confirmation that this was what God was asking me to do in obedience.
And so, the next morning I called the mission organization and I asked. And before I asked, they spoke to me in a way I never thought such an organization would speak to a person. They talked to me about my age and lack of experience; they talked to me about my maturity level solely being based upon my age; they talked about my lack of commitment to the ministry. And in my tears that came, I begged that they would just let me have a week to be home with family and friends to clear my head and to pray and seek the LORD in all of this. I knew this to be wise, and they saw it as a cop out. And so they let me know that they would allow me to go home, but the decision was no longer mine whether or not I would be coming back at the end of the week. I would be getting a phone call later that week. It was a hot knife right in the heart. But even still, I had to be obedient to the only thing that I truly felt God's prompting towards in the situation. And so I accepted their terms in my leaving and bought my plane ticket for the next day.
And, to my enemy's delight, I started to believe them. That I had made a mistake. That I had messed up. That I had lost sight of the vision. That I was coping out. That I was immature and that my lack of experience obviously meant lack of wisdom. And I started to feel hollow. And I started to feel like a failure.
After the conversation with the mission organization, 10 of the girls from the third grade class came running into my room bawling. They swarmed me and hugged me and cried "Señorita Ali, no te vas! Por favor, no te vas! No nos dejas, Por favor!" Which, for those who need a translation, means don't leave. Please don't leave us. And I cried with them. Because it broke my heart, and I did NOT want to leave them. And my heart ached sitting in that room holding all of these little ones, my shirt wet with their tears.
But the LORD cannot be mocked. He does not leave His precious children to be held captive in chains and lies brought and placed by the enemy. Oh no. My God is MIGHTY to save. And all of those lies that I had started to believe, He tore down and instead showered me with His TRUTH in the next 24 hours before I left Macas. Even in that moment in the classroom that was so unbearable with all of the girls crying, God showed me just how much I was able to love on them in the short time I was there.
These girls had been planning a party for my birthday to be held on the actual day of my birth, but in learning about me leaving, their teacher encouraged them to move plans to that day (thursday). And so they went quickly to work with rearranging to prepare things for that afternoon. And at 4, they came into my room and told me to cover my eyes as they walked me outside to the cafeteria. I was expecting maybe the ten girls who planned the party and then a little cake (they had told me they bought one) and some soda, but what they actually did moved me to tears. When I opened my eyes, there were probably over 30 kids from all different grade levels in the cafeteria. And they had decorated it with streamers and balloons. And they had combined tables that was almost the whole length of the cafeteria, and it was COVERED with food, candy, sodas. . . and the most beautiful birthday cake I have ever had. And all of this the students had bought with their personal spending money. Edison told me he had never seen them attach so quickly to anyone the way they attached to me. And as they all shared about why they loved me, hugged and kissed me throughout the afternoon, I just felt such reassurance from God that yes, I had been used by Him to do great things in the lives of these kids, just as I had hoped.
And that evening I was invited over to a student's house for dinner where I had the most uplifting conversation with her mom. Her mom told me she wasn't really a big fan of mission organizations; they tend to put "God in a box" with rules and regulations, assuming He cannot work outside of this box and not giving Him the chance. She shared with me stories of some of her favorite missionaries that were disowned and disagreed with my mission organizations, but pursued with ruthless trust in God and overcame to do AMAZING work for the LORD without being under any organization. She said that although I may have been labeled a rebel by the organization, these people had been to. And they are considered some of the greatest servants of our Heavenly Father to this day in the mission world.
The next morning was by far, one of the greatest ways that God spoke to me and comforted me through His people. The girls in my discipleship group I started had quickly pulled together a surprise party for me at Janeth and Andres' house, one of my favorite couples in Macas who were strong spiritual mentors in my time there. There were tons of kids from the youth group as well as other close teacher friends of mine from the school. The most encouraging part was that, at one point, everyone shared their goodbyes. Amidst tears were words of how I had shown them love and friendship that they hadn't experienced before; that I had shown them hope and acceptance; that I had encouraged them and challenged them in their walks with the LORD that sparked a fire and would continue to fan into a flame, even if I couldn't be there to lead them on. Someone very dear to my heart had told me only days before that I didn't even know how much I had impacted the people of Macas. And I really didn't think I did very much. But listening to people share was God's way of confirming that yes, I had been used by Him in big ways to love on and encourage so many. I thought I would need a year, but He showed me that He can do these things in 2 months. One of the girls in my d-group said that I had spent more time with them and apart of their lives in the past two months than some missionaries did in years.
All throughout that morning, I was receiving text messages and phone calls form so many people. Words of encouragement; sharing my pain and assuring me that I was undeserving of this judgement and persecution. Words of love and compassion. Over and over the message of how much I would be missed and cherished was burned into my brain. I heard so many people say "Ali, more than anything you have to know you did nothing wrong." SO many words of support and love. People cried with me and for me when I shared with them in person, which moved me so deeply to know that as much as I loved the Macabean people and the community, God was showing me they felt the same for me. And the message that was repeated the most was "we want you to come back Ali. If you don't come back with the mission organization, we will pray and trust that God will open the door for you to come back another way." So many families told me that I am welcome to stay and live with them if (and when) I come back.
And above all else, I hear God saying in all of this "well done, good and faithful servant." For a moment I felt like a failure, a very brief moment. And God completely crushed that lie within the last 24 hours that I was in Macas. And I don't know if I'll be going back. Honestly, even if I get invited back by the mission, I don't know if I want to be back under their leadership. I do know this: I will be going back. God has given me peace and confidence in that area. I don't know if it'll be next week, I don't know if it'll be next year. I don't know when, but I know that God has given me such a deep passion and desire for that city, specifically the people. And I know I will be going back. God is faithful.
