Humanness in Transition

Is it too early and too much of a sleep deprived morning for this to make sense?  We will see… J

Today I leave to fly to Cambodia.  And it still seems unreal.  My bags are mostly packed, I have said some painful goodbyes, and have tried to tie up as many loose ends with the paper work side of things as possible.  With a 89^th birthday party for Grandma and my cousin, and last minute packing and note writing, there is plenty to keep me busy for the few hours before I head to the airport.  Yet in all the motion, overall this feeling of overwhelming gut-ache seems so familiar to me.  Transition.  Grief.  And while I am in this world, I know that this will be a reality. 

This summer God has been revealing my humanness to me. Sounds a little strange, I know, but let me explain.   It comes up in conversation with my high school campers so often!  As we talk about “life” in private conversations and talk about topics in DIG (Discussions Involving God) sessions at camp like love, sin, freedom and suffering, I have realized my complete humanity.  I naturally react to things in such a human way—and I think that all my life I have been avoiding that realization because humans are so stupid so often.  Through these discussions we often come down to the question of “So if we know this is how we naturally act, what do we do about it? How do we deal with knowing our humanity and reacting in a wise way?”.  Good questions, huh? J

Bringing it back to the topic of transition, I am seeking answers to those questions in this area today.  I know that my heart will be broken as I leave because I naturally long to hold on to the relationships and the fake stability of the life I have been living during my time in the States.  And this is not a bad thing and I am not seeking to ignore reality—but how do I deal with my humanness in this situation?  How do I let God take over my mind instead of my grief?

As I write and think about this, I am feeling more at peace than I have for quite some time.  God IS faithful, and I have seen that over and over again.  God DOES provide, both physically and spiritually—this is so evident in my own life.  Who am I to worry, who am I to seek my own comfort?  He does not call me to ignore the pain, but to have peace as I trust Him because of His faithfulness and love while I leave this phase of life and enter into a new one.  These things about Him I know so deeply to be true, and I will choose to remember.  He has prepared me in crazy ways to go teach in Cambodia, and in the pain of leaving I am at peace and am so excited for what He will bring in this new life.  J

Over this past year of what seemed like continuous transition, I have been so encouraged by these verses:

Lamentations 3:19-24

 I remember my affliction and my wandering,
   the bitterness and the gall.
 I well remember them,
   and my soul is downcast within me.
 Yet this I call to mind
   and therefore I have hope:
 Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
   for his compassions never fail.
 They are new every morning;
   great is your faithfulness.
 I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion;
   therefore I will wait for him.”