Desire

I finally got my birthday package today. As most of you know, I came home from Macas a week before my birthday, and unfortunately friends and family had already sent down birthday packages for me, so they arrived after I was already back in the states. Months later, I finally got my package! There were socks (mom. . .?), the I Heart Revolution CD (YESSSS!!!!), Paint sets, a crap load of chocolate (I'm not even kidding. . . three ghirardelli raspberry chocolate bars, a bag of Indiana Jones M&Ms, and two huge bags of ghirardelli squares. . . if anybody wants some, please, give me a call), a journal, a book on prayer life, and many many cards. Birthday cards that said how much I was loved, missed, and how proud people were of me. As much as these were meant to be read while I was in Ecuador and reminded of the joy friends and family take in sharing the journey with me, reading them now was. . . depressing, really. I feel bad about my meoldramatic attitude lately (I'm sooo sorry, I'm sure this is getting to the point of annoying by now. It's just not that easy, friends.) but I couldn't help but think, just a few months ago I was loving on people and building relationships and my prayer life and heart was in such a different place. Now. . . well, I feel really apathetic and I'm in classes at school just for the sake of giving myself something to do, and part of me can't help but form the words "failure" and "inferior" in my mind. Constantly. It hurts. 

Then I found this poem that Tifani sent me. For those of you who have never read George MacDonald's work, start with his "Diary of an Old Soul". My word, he has a gift! This poem is a favorite of mine, and has especially penetrating words for my heart right now: 

When I can no more stir my soul to move, 

And life is but the ashes of a fire; 

When I can but remember that my heart

Once used to live and love, long and aspire - 

Oh, be Thou then the first, the one Thou art, 

Be Thou the calling, before all answering love, 

And in me wake hope, fear, boundless desire. 

How real this poem feels to me now is . . . indescribable. LORD, I crave desire more than anything right now. Desire to begin the long, draining process of peace and healing and rest. I am sooo uncomfortable with waiting and I know that right now is where God wants me to be, but I can't help but feel incompetent and pathetic. I hear those lies and I look at my surroundings and go "how can that not be true?" I crave desire to be awaken in my heart and in my spirit once again. I need Truth and I can't really "stir my soul to move" by my own power. LORD knows I've tried. I need Him more than ever.

When the Heart Waits

"That's the sacred intent of life, of God - to move us continuously toward growth, toward recovering all that is lost and orphaned within us, and restoring the divine image imprinted on our soul. And rarely do significant shifts come without a sense of our being lost in dark woods. . ."

- [Sue Monk Kidd, When The Heart Waits]

The way I tend to describe how I'm feeling, is comparing it to being in the middle of a fog. When there's fog, you can't see very far in front of you, and it makes you feel anxious and sometimes a little panicky. And you know that eventually the fog will lift, but for the time being, your stuck in a fog and it's disorienting and confusing. And being stuck in a fog, well, it sucks. And it's not as simple as waving your hands and it all dissolves away. I wish it was. 

"[my husband] wanted me to 'snap out of it'. I did too, of course. I had ordered myself to do just that numerous times. But it was sort of like looking at an encroaching wave and telling it to recede. Demanding didn't make it happen." 

When I read that last paragraph in Kidd's book, I felt like I was reading something that could have come out of my own journal. I have tried so many times to just "snap out of it." I've had people tell me to just move on. I've told myself to just move on. I've told myself to let go. Sooo many times. But it has yet to really make anything happen. I feel like there are a lot of people around me who have expected me to move on by now. And are disappointed that I haven't. And I really don't know what to tell them. It's not that easy. Healing and resting and waiting on God. . . isn't the process I thought it would be. And that's ok. 

Yesterday I called my friend Isaac from Macas. He's the one who runs the orphanage. He told me he's returning to Riobamba in January. And I talked with him some about my coming home, and what that's been like. I didn't have a chance to even say goodbye to him or the kids, along with many other friends, so we haven't talked for some months. He had many encouraging and affirming things to say, including the importance of laying down my anxieties and thoughts at the foot of the Throne. He says returning to Riobamba isn't exactly something he would like to do; it's hard to pick up and move all the kids and to leave Macas, what with all the gossip surrounding why he's leaving, according to everyone else. But in reality, he needs to surrender it all to the LORD, because God has called him back to Riobamba. I don't know if I did justice to just how encouraging this conversation was to me, but it meant a lot. Isaac was someone I got to know very well in Macas, and was one of maybe four people I could talk with in english. I loved getting to visit with him and the kids at the orphanage, and he always reminded me so much of my brothers. I think they would be great friends if they met. I know he has become a very great friend for me. 

I miss my ñaña

I really miss Ivonne lately. I always miss all of my friends and the people that I love so much from Ecuador. It's hard being away from all of them. But lately, it's been especially weighing on my heart how much I really love my sister and how much I miss her. 

I called Ivonne tonight and this was what the first few minutes of our conversation were like:

me: "hooooola ñaña!!" 

Ivonne: "Ali, where am I?"

me: "uh. . . . what?"

Ivonne: "guess where I am!"

Me: ". . . somewhere in Macas. . . "

Ivonne: "[laughing] But what can you hear"

me: [pause] Oh!! You're at the river!!"

Ivonne: [laughing again] yes!! " 

Me: "Are you going swimming at 11 o clock at night?! Are you crazy?! I can't leave you alone for five minutes. . ."

Ivonne: "I know, I know. But don't worry, I'm not swimming. just on a walk with Fernando."

me: "ooooo, FerNANdo!"

Ivonne: "oh no, there's a huge truck going over the bridge and it's shaking! I think it's going to break!!"

Me: "WHAT?!"

Ivonne: "[laughing] just kidding!! Nothing's happening."

The rest of the phone call was pretty much the same: lot's of joking around and laughing sooo hard. And that was what things were like when we were together. We always could make each other laugh and smile, even when we were tired or unhappy or in tears. Well, during the moment of tears we'd hug and pray and then whoever wasn't crying would say something witty to make the other one laugh. :) 

I think it's so great how Ivonne and I became instant friends. The very first night I was in Ecuador, when we were in Quito, we talked most of the night in our hotel room. Skipped the awkward and went straight to the we're-practically-gonna-be-sisters!! feeling.  In the next couple of days, we went to see Batman together and went on my first ever ice skating excursion, went walking around Quito, talked forever and laughed until my stomach was hurting and Ivonne's eyes were watering. I asked her what some Quichua words were that I should learn, and she told me that "ñaña" means sister, and from that day on we always call each other ñaña. 

I just miss her so much. I miss getting to pray together. I miss our mornings together reading in the Word and talking about what we thought. I miss her hugs and I miss her facial expressions. 

I miss my ñaña. Phone calls can only do so much. 

sleep. . .?

I can't sleep lately. I don't really know why. But every night when I try to go to bed, I end up tossing and turning then trying to read a book and still am not able to fall asleep. I keep looking at the clock and getting frustrated at what time it is and the fact that everyone else in the house has been sleeping for hours, and I'm still awake. Ugh. 

I don't want to take sleeping pills because I'm afraid of dependency, but I wonder if I tried for a week and see if things got any better. . .? 

I'm tired of not getting to go to sleep. That's such an oxymoron. 

Love is here

Come to the water, you who thirst

and you'll thirst no more

Come to the Father, you who work

and you'll work no more

and all you who labor in vain

and to the broken and shamed

Love is here

love is now

love is pouring from His hands, from His brow

love is near

it satisfies

Streams of mercy flowing from His side

Cause love is here

Come to the treasure, you who search

and you'll search no more

Come to the Lover, you who want

and you'll want no more

And to the bruised and fallen

captives bound and broken hearted

He is the LORD

He is the LORD

By His stripes He's paid our ransom

From His wounds we drink salvation

He is the LORD 

He is the LORD

Love is here. 

When I got to visit Tifani in Colorado, she gave me the Tenth Avenue North CD, and this is the first song on the CD. I've listened to it constantly since then. And I'm continuing to be reminded just as whoever the guys that wrote this song were, that my God is here. His love is here. Not it's coming, or hang in there for just another sec, you've got to wait it out a little longer. His love remains. 

I am being held and I am being healed. I can feel it and see it all around me. That's not to say that it doesn't still hurt sometimes. But I can't let my desire for instant gratification affect my trust in the LORD. He is the Healer, and he has promised me this. So I put my trust in that, and I have to remember to hold onto that Truth.

"The LORD your God is with you, He is MIGHTY to save! He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing." [Zephaniah 3:16-17]

And Josh, I think your words echo what so many others have been encouraging me and strengthening me with. But since you put it in writing, I hope it's ok if I put it here. It gives me so much strength. :) 

"Ali, you've got to read some missionary bios, it will give you some great perspective. . . it's what I often do. The road you're on, most never make it. Those who do, have been broken and rebuilt to withstand the innumerable bumps and challenges along the way. I believe God's in the process now of making you into someone He can use in big ways around the world. We're not born that way and it doesn't only happen when we're 0-18. God is making someone He can use and He often uses many of the ingredients that are currently present in your life. If something like this knocks you off the path, you weren't going to make it very far anyways. If it doesn't. . . THEN. . . you're much closer to experiencing God's best for you than you were 2 short months ago, and you just might have what it takes. We're still figuring out if I have what it takes. . . this isn't coming from one who has it figured out. . . no. . . one who is figurING it out. You rock, Ali. Don't give up." 

Thanks. I can't thank all of you enough, who have loved on me, encouraged me, urged me forward, and challenged me throughout my time here. Thanks for being used by Him to be a blessing to me. I love you all. :) 

why

Lately I just want to ask God why. I don't just want to ask, I want Him to really answer. Really. Because it feels pretty unfulfilling right now to hear someone say if I just have a desire to serve, He will send me. I had that desire, I have had that desire, and I'm home right now. Why did I even go just to be hurt in coming back? It's not even like I'm sad in coming home at the end of the year. . . I'm just wounded and I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know what happens next, and I just feel like giving up. 

Why? 

Lost. . .

I just bought the book "The Shack" today. I read about two chapters of it a few days ago when I was visiting my friend Leah, and today while I was at the airport and was sitting staring at the Powell's across the way, thought I might as well go on over and see if they have it in stock and if it's at a reasonable price. I kept thinking of the book since I read it. The fact that the main character is going through what he continues to describe as "the great sadness" sounds fairly close to what kinds of emotions I am struggling through right about now. So I found it at the Powell's in the airport, and it was reasonably priced and I purchased it. And I read it, the whole flight. There were a few parts that brought tears to my eyes, but the part that really struck me was here:

"Jesus?" he whispered as his voice choked. " I feel so lost."

A hand reached out and squeezed his, and didn't let go. "I know, Mack. But it's not true. I am with you and I'm not lost. I'm sorry it feels that way, but hear me clearly. You are not lost."

A few short sentences that embody my thoughts and hurts, and a message that only Jesus truly can share: I'm with you and I'm not lost, therefore neither are you. 

I may feel lost. . . but Jesus isn't lost.