I am such a blubbering mess at this work desk today over Guatemala, the school, the little graces. I spent three months in Central America this past May to July, one of them in Honduras and the previous nine ministering alongside some of the most daringly joyful people in Africa, Asia, and Europe. We visited the dump in Tegu while in Honduras and it rained on the spaghetti and water pouches we handed out. It was humbling, but beautiful to hear “Dios le bendiga” through the raindrops and vulture calls. Oh my goodness, it was a moment I could never forget.
I’ve been home for six months. Six solid months and three weeks. It’s been hard to jump back into life here, hard to sit at a desk day in and day out and listen to the bombarding thoughts in my head saying I’m not doing enough and pushing papers isn’t enough, could never be an adequate use of my potential and skill. Maybe it’s not. But right now, it’s where I am. I’m looking for something else – something that requires getting a little dirt under my fingernails, giving more hugs, and circles of prayers with the warriors and the saints. I need to do more walking.
I’ve felt non-essential. Actually, that’s been the word around the office today, half jokingly, about processes being non-essential and so much of the work I do being non-essential. I feel unnecessary when I’m only using my hands to press print buttons and punch holes in papers. I’ve felt unknown. I’ve felt just empty. And Ann wrote this: We are the Davids who served not our own agendas but God’s purposes in this generation and we are the Esther Generation right here and now and it is us who want hard and holy things because we want more than hollow lives. And that’s where I am.