As I sit at the beginning of my own little road, I wonder if I'm waiting for another path to reveal itself, to open up, to conjure itself into being. And, as I sit staring down this existing road, I wonder. What am I really doing here?
I spend so much time waiting and waiting, wondering where my life is going to go and how I'm going to get to my destination, what I'm going to eat or do on the way there... where I'm doing to live, work, and who I'm going to meet. I waste my time daydreaming about how my life will be, hoping something comes along that will sweep me up and carry me towards the end of whatever I'm trying to accomplish faster.... when really, the answer to my pondering is staring right at me. All I have to do is take a step forward.
This is what my life looked like six months ago. I was in Africa, working with a team of 12 other YWAM students and leaders, visiting orphanages and picking up trash on streets around our home. I was doing street ministry on a daily basis, praying over people, performing skits, singing songs, preaching, giving my testimony. I was going to drug rehab programs and hanging out with people whose lives were just as messed up as mine--albeit in a different way. I was experiencing freedom through holding African children, tickling them, chasing them, making faces at them, rubbing their little backs during church while they slept, draped across my lap.
Now I am home. I sleep, eat, hang out with my family, and look for work. I go to church, I wonder what is next.
This past Saturday night, I received some major revelations from God, words of life were spoke over me and my eyes were opened to things that I had never before considered. And I had one incredible realization:
I have given up on freedom.
Wait, what? Ninety percent of my blog posts are about freedom, how could I have given up on it? I have been experiencing freedom to a degree since I have been home, but really... I have given up on it's true and pure form. Arriving home, I slowly let myself forget what it was like to wake up in the morning and give the day to God, and then really listen to Him throughout the day for direction. I forgot what it was like to drink water from the tap and open my fridge and have food in it, and stop and take a moment to thank Him for what I have when I know others have so little. I forgot what it was like to truly worship Him, with every aspect of my life, rather than just when I hear a good song that convicts me or moves me in my spirit. I forgot what He was like.
What am I really doing here? This is the question I have been asking myself for the past few days. Am I really, truly seeking my Father's face? Am I really, honestly wanting to grow closer? I think about spending time with Him a lot, but am I really willing to go there?
And I find myself nodding. I thirst for Him more now that I ever have before, and I think that's because I know what He is like. I know His presence, and I know that I have been running from it. And so here I am. Wrecked, and vulnerable, and wanting Him so badly that I ache, because His presence and direction is so worth it to me. I am willing to go there, willing to bare myself to Him, willing to come out of hiding, because really... He is the only One who can bring me everything I need. Including true freedom.
"My dove in the clefts of the rock,
in the hiding places on the mountainside,
show me your face,
let me hear your voice;
for your voice is sweet,
and your face is lovely."
Song of Songs 2:14
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