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My Glinda Moment

Posted on Sunday, July 25, 2021

For those of you who know the musical Wicked, my guess is that what you think of when you read that I’ve had a Glinda moment is not the moment I mean. My Glinda moment is a more obscure, less than glamorous point of comparison. At the beginning of Act 2, Glinda has arrived at the place of status and power she has been longing for and yet is not experiencing the joy that she anticipated accompanying the achievement (forgive me for that was a serious paraphrase). In song - it’s a musical after all - she says,   

That's why I couldn't be happier 

No, I couldn't be happier 

Though it is, I admit 

The tiniest bit 

Unlike I anticipated 

But I couldn't be happier 

Simply couldn't be happier 

Well - not simply 

'Cause getting your dreams 

It's strange, but it seems 

A little, well, complicated 

There's a kind of a sort of, cost 

There's a couple of things get, lost 

There are bridges you cross 

You didn't know you crossed 

Until you've crossed 

And if that joy, that thrill 

Doesn't thrill you like you think it will 

Still 

With this perfect finale 

The cheers and ballyhoo 

Who 

Wouldn't be happier? 

So I couldn't be happier 

Because happy is what happens 

When all your dreams come true 

Well, isn't it? 

Happy is what happens 

When your dreams come true!

That is my Glinda moment.  

 

In the past month I have received what I have been longing for – My first support goal was met. Then, not even a week later, I reached the benchmark necessary to register for training. I was put on the waitlist for October training (the planned timeline) but was also added to the waitlist for August (my crazy, dream timeline). Then, not even 2 days later, I was given a spot at the August training.  

August training never should have been an option for me; it was actually only presented to me because of a miscommunication, one that was quickly and strongly corrected, and yet the idea of beginning training after only 2 months of support raising, only 2 months of really thinking about and actively preparing to go overseas, that idea became firmly rooted in my heart. Though I knew it was unlikely, I felt an urgency to be trained in August so I could leave for the field in early fall. Though I was scared to put my hope in it, my dream and constant prayer was to be given a spot at the August training.   

And that prayer was granted. But, upon reading the message that said I had a spot in August, I did not experience the elation I had anticipated. The dream that seemed impossible to attain became reality and yet I could not get myself to rejoice.  

 

Don’t get me wrong, I was thrilled – but with my fulfilled dream also came the realization of the cost.   

Since last October I have known that overseas ministry is in my future and so I have known that I will be leaving behind everything that has been familiar, comfortable, known, and loved. I am okay with that; I’ve been okay with that. I am actually a bit excited at the prospect because adventure into the unknown is something that ignites my heart -  But no degree of knowing that “leaving” was coming or of being ready/okay with/excited to leave padded my heart enough to not feel the loss of leaving. And I haven’t even left yet!  

Simply receiving firm dates for training, which gives me a rough date for departure, gave me the dose of reality that has been lacking for the majority of this process. I am leaving home and everything I have ever known: the people, the places, the way of life, the language..  There is great loss in this season; the adventure I am about to embark on, the work that God Himself has prepared for me and invited me into, the community and life I long to go to, all comes with a high cost. A cost that I have begun to feel as I can now count down my days left at home.  

Yet, I have found that as I feel the cost, I am freed to also experience the joy. If I cut off the recognition of what is lost in this transition, then I also cut off the recognition of my joy over what is gained.  

 

Earlier this month, when the Lord fulfilled my dream of getting to training in August and yet I did not respond with elated joy stumped me. I wondered if the situation was wrong because while I celebrated and sang praises of thanksgiving, my heart was somber. "Maybe training in August wasn’t what the Lord designed." "Maybe it was just something I wanted and actually isn’t good in the Lord’s way." Because my emotional response didn’t match what I thought the situation demanded, I questioned the situation. Funny – the thing that was out of my control and (should be) undoubtably the Lord’s creation was what I doubted before my own changing, fleeting, affected by any and everything emotions. Unfortunately, I do that all too often. So, I am incredibly thankful that in this circumstance my both somber and joyful heart became a place of growth.  

I am thankful to have had that sobering celebration in the days following the news of my August training.

- Thankful to begin realizing the cost of missionary life before I experience it on the field.

- Thankful to realize the goodness and value in the life I have lived so far, for I would not consider moving away a loss unless I loved the people, places, and way of life here.

- And thankful for another circumstance that pushes me to give the burden of my sadness and mourning to Christ, trusting that I don’t bear any burden alone but can instead take up and feel the weight of his yoke. A yoke which only asks me to follow Him obediently, not to perform or produce or suck it up by any power of my own.  

So, while I have found myself as a less-than-overjoyed recipient of what I dreamed for, unlike Glinda, I do not have to kid myself into thinking I’m as happy as I could ever be. Happy doesn’t necessarily happen when your dream comes true – the joy and delight that I experience as a recipient of God’s lavish grace coexists with the sadness and weight that I experience at the loss of all I have known. This is the paradox I walk in. Thankfully I don’t have to find my own way; my God bears my burden with me and I walk beside Him, taking each step as He asks, in whatever emotion I am at the time, for He sufficiently equips me.   

Praise be to the God who is my source of prevailing joy! 

 

*Lyrics from Steven Schwartz, “Thank Goodness,” Wicked, the original Broadway cast recording, 2003. If you want to listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/0zdjVFe5tqhgJVXLkvA8FX?si=dd2718fdd46c46…;

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