For some reason I found myself avoiding writing this month’s blog as long as I possibly could. So much has happened over the past couple months, and my mind has struggled wildly to make sense of it all. I read through the blogs of my friends for inspiration, but instead found myself wrapped up in an endless cycle of comparison and jealousy. That has been the biggest struggle since moving to Bangkok, and I have to admit, it hit me out of the blue.
I’m constantly comparing myself to my roommate, to my teammates, to the other students in language school, to images plastered on every big screen T.V. downtown, and even to other friends on the mission field all over the world. At the end of the day I don’t measure up. I’m not learning the language well, I’m not allowing myself to be vulnerable in the ways I should be, and worst of all I’ve felt like I could do this on my own. I don’t even know why or when I started feeling this way. All I know is it’s been consuming my every thought. Isn’t that sad? Here I am on the adventure I’ve been waiting all my life for, and I spend my time feeling sorry for myself. God has been so faithful to the dreams He has put in my heart, and I keep my heart safely locked away from the people He has asked me to love. I kid myself into thinking that I haven’t brought emotional baggage with me to Thailand. I try to forget the past and just move on. My life up until this point has just been the prologue right?
This weekend we had a retreat in Ayutthaya, “The City of Gorgeousness” (ha ha sometimes I just love how things are translated). God knew it was just what I needed even though I was completely unaware. Recently I’ve felt boxed up in the concrete jungle that is Bangkok. I was feeling the stress of long and tiring commutes everywhere I went. I was feeling the anxiety attached to living every second of my life so intimately entwined with my roommate. Learning Thai has been pushing every jealous bone in my body to its limit. Worst of all, I’ve been avoiding God through it all. At the beginning of this weekend I was honest with myself; for the first time in my life, I was not excited to be on a retreat. I have a whole lot of ugly in my heart that I’d much rather pretend isn’t there.
It still baffles me how God keeps pursuing us even when we are so undeserving. Throughout the whole weekend God never gave me more than I could handle, even if that meant being alone with Him. I wasn’t ready. It’s crazy how God met me through quiet days of exploring old temple ruins with new friends and enjoying “farting around” as Carrie puts it. There was nothing seemingly big happening during that time, but looking back on it now I see God at work. Each day He placed me in the right group to allow me to be myself. For the first time in a long time I wasn’t trying to build relationships. I wasn’t being overly intentional or over thinking every interaction. I just was exactly who God created me to be. No show, no trying to seem intelligent or funny, no trying to over spiritualize things, and especially no attempting to live up to a reputation I can’t keep up with. I could just be. I haven’t felt like that in quite a long time. It was nice and very, very ordinary. I was happy for that.
Throughout the week our intern group broke into small groups and shared our life stories with each other. Once again I was petrified. This is extremely unlike me; I used to love telling my story. I loved to share how God had healed me from so many hurts, habits, and broken relationships. This time around something held me back. I tried to reflect and prepare, but through that I had to face the bitterness that is deep inside my heart. It’s nothing new. It’s that extra baggage I brought with me and refused to let God carry.
It wasn’t even till the last activity of the week that everything started to make sense. We all gathered together and Michelle asked us a great question, “What do you think God is inviting you to?” I don’t think I’ve ever been asked a better question before in my life. I was the last intern to share and as I began to speak, the truth I had bottled inside my heart came pouring out. “I think the Lord is inviting me to fall in love with Him again.” I paused and attempted to gather my thoughts, but instead I started to cry. I haven’t cried since coming here because I’ve purposely avoided allowing myself to feel emotion of almost any kind. However I couldn’t stop this, the tears gushed and I struggled to push out coherent sentences. “I think He wants me to fall in love with Him and with the people around me, but I’m so afraid. I can’t fall in love again. I don’t have it in me. It’s too hard. I know God has a love that never ends, but I’m afraid that it will.” Writing it out it seems so simple, but it’s exactly how I feel.
I can’t fall in love again. I don’t have it in me.
I can’t fall in love again.
I didn’t even know that was my problem, but it explains so much. I fall in love with people far too quickly for my own good. Not just romantic love, but I grow to love people in general at a very deep level. I become attached and earnestly pray and hope for them to thrive. Over and over again I give people all of me. I love even though it hurts. I’ll never give up. I’ll worry myself sick for them. I’ll fast and stand by them when everyone else walks away. I’ll love them through deep dark sin they are afraid no could ever love them through. I’ll fight for years not days. Sometimes the pain is too much. Sometimes it’s overwhelming and crushes my spirit. Sometimes for my own physical safety I have to remove myself from certain relationships. Sometimes for the safety of others I have to do the same. I’m really not trying to make myself sound good here, I’m just trying to describe how exhausting and painful falling in love with the people around me has been at times in the past. I have also failed to do all of the above for other relationships. That guilt eats me alive.
When I felt God inviting me to fall in love again every ounce of pain that entails scared me. I don’t have it in me. That is pure fear talking. That is a love that is shut off from the depths of Christ’s unconditional love crying out. That’s the place where I’ve kept my heart recently. Everywhere I go I feel so small compared to the giant waves of pain that crash all around me.
I look at the kids in my community, especially at the teens, and I can’t help but remember my youth group students back in Colorado. Words could never describe how fervently I love those kids. Once I even wept before them because I couldn’t fathom how God loves each one of them more than I do. I loved those students so well because Jesus gave me the tiniest bit of the love He has for them. It broke me to leave and watch them go. Simultaneously, those years of walking with them and now knowing God is taking care of them brings me the most joy out of anything I’ve ever done, ever.
I can’t fall in love again. I don’t have it in me.
I thought back on the friendships I’ve tirelessly invested in since childhood, high school, and college. I thought of the beauty and the pain that constantly weaved my heart to another. I thought about failed romantic relationships, especially from my teenage years, that left me broken on every level imaginable. I thought about the marriages I saw around me. I thought about how love is a choice, and sometimes you have to love someone even if you don’t like them at the moment. I thought about the loneliness and betrayal that is put on the line each time we choose to love another person. How do I even begin to do that here in a place where I don’t even speak the language? How can I be open to falling in love with each person God brings me to?
I can’t fall in love again. I don’t have it in me.
I don’t have it in me.
I don’t have it in me.
All this and much more screamed inside my mind as I spit out these few vague words and then continued them in silent prayer. As I prayed I heard the Lord invite me:
Come fall in love with Me again.
I can’t fall in love again.
I will NEVER leave you. My love will never end. You are perfectly known when you are in My presence. You are perfectly forgiven. No other love will bring more satisfaction.
I don’t have it in me.
That’s the point. I do.
And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong.
2 Corinthians 12:9-10