Quick disclaimer before you read on. This was a hard post for me to write. It is honest. It was accompanied by many tears as I recounted the memories and moments of the last six weeks, as I pondered all that God has been doing in me, all he has shown and revealed to me and the precious ways in which he has comforted me. It contains the questions and fears that I have been fighting against and struggling to answer. But I want you to know how I’m doing. I want to be honest with you because we serve a God who is forever faithful. So here it goes.
I am a DAUGHTER of the KING.
Not much about this move has been easy. If I choose to be honest with myself, that is. Are there good moments, experiences that broaden my narrow-minded view of God, times when I still can’t believe I’m in Peru? Of course there are! But four months ago, during my support raising, I never thought it would be as hard to say goodbye as it was. As hard to transition to living by myself as it has been. As hard to live in a place where I know only two people, whom I met just six weeks ago, as it has been. It’s different than I pictured. Harder than I imagined it would be. But oddly more joyful and God-filled than I ever dreamed possible. Because I am a daughter of the King.
As I stood in the middle of O’Hare International Airport, all checked into my flight, attempting to say goodbye to my mom, it took every bit of courage I could muster to take the first step towards the security line. My mom and I stood there, with hundreds of passengers walking by, hugging. Crying. There were moments of silence. Moments of encouraging words and prayers. More moments of silence as ten-foot waves of thoughts and fears came crashing down around me. I was so scared. Wondering what on earth I was getting myself into. Why I decided to do this. Why God would call me, of all people, to do this. How I was every going to make it.
I am in San Ramon, Peru. In my apartment. Alone. The missionaries are in Lima. My host family is traveling. I know no one else here. This is the first day I’ve really had time to reflect on my time here. How I’m doing. How I’m feeling. That’s when those ten-foot waves of feelings and fears start crashing down again. Maybe twenty feet this time. What if I don’t like it here? What if I fail? What if I let people down? What if it’s not what I thought it would be? I start to realize how much I’m beginning to miss my family. My friends. Community. People I know and have built relationships with. How hard it is to start rebuilding all of that. Then wondering how long these feelings and fears will last.
But it’s in these moments, these times of doubt and fear and questioning, when that small, almost inaudible whisper is heard. That first, almost undetectable sense of comfort is felt. I am here. I am going before you. I have called you. You are my daughter.
These are the promises I have clung to over my first six weeks here. The truths I hold close when those doubts and fears and questions start to creep back in. They are what bring me comfort. Even joy. They are the things that cast aside all fear and doubt. I am a child of the King. I am His daughter and that means He will always protect me. Always provide. Always be faithful. Always go before. Always be present. And He has called me. To this place. Right where I am. I know that without a doubt. It may not always be easy. I may not have all the answers. And maybe I never will. But He will be there every step of the way. That is a promise. And that alone carries with it an indescribable amount of joy and comfort.
The more I think about how I’m feeling and what God is teaching me, the more I realize how weird a sensation it is to feel so alone, lacking everything familiar and missing community, but at the same time be filled with so much joy. How can those two things coexist? There is only one explanation – Jesus Christ.
I know I can do this because of Him. His promises will never fail. The promises He has for His children will never waiver. He has revealed beauty in this place in the most unexpected of ways. In the people I have met. In the soaring, rugged mountains of the Amazon. In the remote, dirt road drive through the jungle. In the prayers of others. In conversations. In unexpected gestures of kindness and patience. In the smile of the older lady cutting up my chicken. You have to be looking for them, expectantly waiting for the next time God will reveal His beauty. It’s never predictable. Never how you imagine it. But each step of the way, every day, God continues to encourage me and remind me of His promises in different ways. It’s not easy. I’m not going to try to pretend that it is. But that was never promised. I am His daughter and there is tremendous joy to be found in that simple truth.
I have never felt the presence of God more closely in my life. We serve a God who desires nothing but the best for us. A God who is ALWAYS faithful. Who even in the hardest of times, moments when there are no answers and no relief in sight, remains our source of joy and comfort. That is the God we serve and the promises he has for his children. I am overjoyed to be a daughter of the King.