As I type this entry, I have “stuff” strewn across my bedroom floor, our spare room, and in the hallway. There is a load of laundry ready to be folded and either stored in a cardboard box for the next 7 months or stuffed into my quickly growing pack. I have a to-do list about a mile long with only a few items ticked off...and if I’m being completely honest, most of them were already completed before I scrawled them across the page. A girl’s got to have some sense of accomplishment after all.
And still ... in the midst of all this preparation for Kingdom Journeys, I feel the need to sit and process. To ask ...God...what has happened these past few weeks? What have you been trying to teach me? What’s next and how can I be more ready for it?
I have been living a home with family since I returned from Kenya, which has been really, really nice in so many ways. They didn’t charge me rent, and they let me eat all their food. And they let me be myself....even when they don’t agree.
Home has become a few different things in recent years. It’s a place where I’m able to reflect on how far God has brought me...and to safely dream about the future.
It’s also a place where I have to fight for intimacy with God.
On the mission field...God’s presence never felt so real to me. It often felt like me and Him, in battle together. Or sometimes like a long coffee date in which Jesus and I were just getting to know each other. Kenya is the place where Jesus truly showed me that I was the sought after party in a GREAT RESCUE. That HE rescued me...and that HE is now calling me to be part of many more great rescues...talk about adventure!
He showed me that He really is enough..
Who would have thought that a cozy home in a nice area of Toronto would be a challenge , after climbing aboard a plane and traveling across the world to live in a place where I knew no one.
As lovely as it has been, home for me these past few weeks, is where I struggle with the same things as I did five, six, ten years ago. It’s where the impatient, worldly, affirmation seeking Kimmy most often comes out. It’s where I find myself snapping or growing impatient, or entertaining very un-missionary like thoughts. It’s where I begin dreaming of a comfortable life ... that may or may not have Christ at the centre.
Home is often the place where I doubt my ability to ever change.
It made me sad...this distance from God.
But then last night, I read the soul soothing words of Ann Voscamp on her blog...giving me permission to fall into the hands of grace once again.
I realized... that it really is Ok to feel .
And that my feelings don’t define the truth.
I realized that home is also a place where God is bigger than everything I feel.
The TRUTH is He is closer than my human mind can imagine, and He loves me more deeply than I could ever comprehend. He is forgiving, and caring, and changes me with His unending GRACE.
As I remind myself of His truth, I am overwhelmed by His kindness.
He loves me just the same. He loves me just the same. He loves me just the same.
And so as I think about what I have learned and what He is calling me to next...I believe I have my answer.
Jesus wants me to trust the gospel...the great rescue mission that he embarked on FOR ME.
FOR YOU.
It is bigger than any distance, or valley, or failure. He really is All WE NEED.
ALL I NEED.
He’s asking me to trust His love.
3 Comments
“You may choose to look the other way, but you can never say you didn’t know.” The words of William Wilberforce, a man who poured out his whole life for the abolition of the slave trade, sank deep into my heart as the dampness of tears and the ache on my insides seemed to intensify. We sat together in the basement, as the snow fell softly on the lawn outside our safe, cozy, comfortable home. Fresh snow always reminds me of the pure heart of God, gently floating down to cover all of our broken parts with His grace, His love. Our cans of pop were on the ground, treats shoved aside. The silence was thick and consuming. I had joined a group of girls from church, to watch a documentary on sex trafficking, and the quote that flashed across the screen towards the end of the film left me changed. I felt broken by the images flashing before my eyes, by the stories being told. I hurt because the heart beating inside of me is no longer my own. Hand in hand with a man who had bled on the cross for me, I too felt the pain of living in a broken world. We talked about the hard parts, the worst parts, each of us being pressed on by different stories, different scenes. Not sure what to do next we dropped our heads and prayed. I did not know then that in the coming year, I would meet beautiful, inspiring precious women who had been impacted by the implications of desperate poverty. That I would pray fervently for the Lord to protect the hearts and the lives of young girls living in Kibera, one of the largest slums in the world. I did not know that I would embark on a journey with a team of beautifully broken women with hearts on fire for the only one who can make us whole. There was a lot that I did not know. But there was a little bit that I did. And so I dropped my head and prayed. And I will never say I didn’t know. Lately I have been thinking...what if? What if we didn’t turn our heads and look away? What if we didn’t let our busy get in the way? Or our pride? Or our... What if we dropped our heads to pray...and watched to see how He would work. What if... My eyes quickly scanned the text message, and my heart sank a little bit deeper into my chest as the words confirmed what I already knew to be true. His honesty was refreshing, though it failed to dull the frustration and feelings of rejection that felt all too common in my relationships. He was not in a place to date and needed to let God build him from being a boy, into a true man, and that until that happened, he had no business pursuing a wife. Uuuuuh. There was no arguing with that. But...seriously annoying, right? I paused for a moment before responding as the words “Typing” appeared above his text message on my Whatsapp.... there was more, and I was hopeful. Maybe he would tell me that it might work in a while... or that he really liked the possibility of an “us”, when the timing was right. Maybe he would say something that would make me feel special, and wonderful. He didn’t. Not really. He told me that he really liked having me as someone to talk to about Jesus, a good Christian friend. This time my reply was instant as my fingers flew frantically across the screen. The last thing I wanted was to be vulnerable NOW, when I knew that my hopes for our friendship were not reciprocated. That’s great! I said, adding a smiley face to ensure my tone was chipper. I’m actually not dating until my year serving in missions is over anyways. So yes, totally, let’s be friends. I put the phone down, buried my face in my pillow and cried. To be honest the tears weren’t even about him, but in fact were just a reflection of the fact that I consistently put my hopes in other people in order to feel worthy. But that text message in which I declared my devotion to dating Jesus, which to be perfectly honest, I didn’t really even spend much time considering, would shape not only the coming year, but also would set the trajectory of the rest of my life ( or at least I think that’s what’s happening). For me, that decision was a spur of the moment thing. I didn’t pray through it, I just did it to protect my own pride, my own heart. But afterwards...when I thought about it, God just kept nudging me and I began to think...maybe this whole not dating thing...maybe I should try it. Like fully give it a go. What’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like what I was doing now was making me very happy. You see, although I had been technically single for a while, I had been waiting in over-eager anticipation. I’d dated a tonne...and made some pretty compromising decisions. I had texting buddies, gone on Christian dating websites, and held onto unhealthy friendships for far too long. Not all of those things are wrong in and of themselves, but my motivation was. I was acting out of fear. I was doing everything I could to desperately hold onto anyone that would bring me comfort, all the while compromising who I was, and how much my God meant to me. I was not acting like I believed that God really did have His best for me. And so, I decided to stick with it. I decided to put dating on hold. I decided to finally, once and for all, start acting like I trusted God. Next, I prayed. I started praying that God would remove any relationship from my life that was not going to be fruitful. I prayed with open hands. A funny thing happened...God said yes! He whispered to me that He was enthralled by my beauty ...and asked me to honour Him, for He is my Lord. (Psalm 45:10-11). He told me to do my part ...to let go. To walk away, or stand still as they did. I did. It was hard but I did. There were tears, but I did it. With the help of Jesus, my best friend and my saviour, I did it. And now, six months later, I’m madly in love. I’m more in love with the one who sustains me, who carries me, the one who loves me and pursues me. I’m learning my worth and my beauty are found in Him, and that he has wonderful, exciting, sometimes difficult, things planned for me. I’m moving forward instead of constantly being knocked down. I am learning that I have gifts and passions that He wants to use. I am learning that Christ really is enough. I still pray for my husband, and still hope, still anticipate meeting him. But it’s different now...because when I do meet him, he won’t define me. I won’t have to prove my worth or desperately try to say the right thing. I will be ready to love more fully and more sacrificially. And most significantly, I will know that as important as he may be in my life, it is my God who will sustain me, step by step, into glory. I can’t wait to see what God has in store. I will cherish each and every second of my singleness, (even the crappy, lonely, frustrating ones), because these are moments of purity with God that cannot be replaced. And when he brings me to my husband...I pray it will be one more page that He is writing in the story of His Kingdom. What about you.... What brave things have you done lately, accidental or not? Do you remember a time when you knew it was totally God sustaining you? The rain had paused when she arrived at our door, the tap of her knuckles on the metal echoing through our house, the dampness in the air still hanging fresh, reminding us that the showers might return at any moment.
“Hodi” Swahili for “Hello, I’m here!!” Her warm voice called out, inviting us out into the night. She linked arms with me and offered to share her umbrella. The rain was just a sprinkle and I declined, not minding the dampness that fell as we walked, though I prayed it would not turn torrential. I wrapped my coat tightly around me, and promised myself to take in each moment of this journey. Katherine, my roommate and I had been invited to visit our friends home, to see where she lived, and to meet her mother, her family. As the afternoon turned into evening, we wound our way down the roads of Kibera. I held tightly to my friend’s arm at first, my eyes focused on the ground to ensure I didn’t slip. At points the path was thin, and we needed to plan each step, pressing our hands into the sides of the houses we were passing to keep our balance. Some were made of cold sharp metal sheets, others of thick packed mud...and the walkway of chocolate coloured dirt turned to wet sticky mud as we wound our way between each one, moving in what seemed like every direction. When I did steal a glance up, I saw people, bodies moving around us, comfortable and at home within their surroundings. Many had their eyes upon us, welcoming and greeting as we passed through their community, their home. Children, teens, men and women filled the streets; navigating the paths with ease , making us seem altogether clumsy. Others were sitting and enjoying one another...resting in doorways, leaning along walls or sitting on the doorstep of a small business. Often I’d here a chorus of voices call out: “Mizungu” the word used to describe the light milky colour of our skin. Other times a friendly “How are you”???” as we passed. After about twenty minutes we reached our destination; wet and muddy, but grateful we hadn’t taken a giant wipe-out. My friend lived far down in the depths of Kibera, deeper into the slum than I had yet ventured. At first, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but as the wooden door to her house opened, I was overwhelmed by one feeling: warmth. My friend’s mother clutched our hands, kissed our cheeks and ushered us inside, where she was busy stringing together purses that she hoped to sell to support her family. The home was cozy...and I felt comfortable right away. There weren’t many material things inside... one bed for the girls and a rug for the boys to sleep on. We were given seats of honour on wooden stools in the centre of the room, which had clearly been placed there in anticipation of our arrival. As my young friend bustled about in the kitchen, we chatted with her mother, and brothers, working through the barriers of language as best we could, laughing together through misunderstandings. My dear friend served us freshly roasted peanuts and warm tea. As I sipped the sweet dink, I was overwhelmed not only by its' warmth soothing my chilled bones, but more deeply by a strong certainty developing in my heart. In that moment of sharing this family’s life, the presence of a loving God, who knows every single one of His children, was overwhelming. It made me feel complete and utter contentment. I saw that in their small home with mud walls, that this family had chosen JOY. My friend’s mom talked about her church, and her friends, and her life, and I could undeniably see Jesus in her. She even introduced her niece “Joyce Meyer”...a quiet nine year old girl who lived just up the road, and I couldn’t help but think it was a fitting name to signify the gladness that this family had clearly chosen as the cornerstone of their life. I’m not saying it’s easy. None of what I saw in Kibera is easy. I spent many nights awake and talking to God in confusion, trying to work out what my place is in the brokenness.... and asking where He was in all of it. I have learned so much through my time in Kibera... but perhaps the biggest lesson..is that I don’t have all the answers. And that is OK. I have learned that God calls me to be present, to love, and to choose Joy. After all, that’s what Jesus did on earth. He was present...and not just with the people who were often noticed and held in the highest regard. He was present with the poor, the broken hearted, and with sinners just like me. I found Joy that night at the end of a wet, muddy trek to a small house deep in Kibera. And I realized that when I am present with people, and present with Jesus, His joy really is all around me. |
Kim.Kimmy. Kimberley.Hey everyone! I am so glad you are here. One of my most favourite things in the whole world is meeting new people and doing this thing called "life" together. I love how we have the power to spur one another on to pursue wonderful things in this life. A little bit about me...I am a Christ follower, He is the reason I am where I am today and the biggest goal of my life is to grow in my relationship with Him. I'm also a writer and a reader...I love stories and I believe that they have the power to move us. I run and bike, and I love the excitement of new places and adventures. I love a good cup of coffee, delicious food, and summer mornings. I laugh a lot , I cry a lot and oh my goodness am I ever a dreamer. I am determined to turn my dreaming into doing, and in that spirit, I am off to serve Him through missions this coming year. I can't wait to see how He uses me, changes my heart, and lets me be a part of His work as I journey first to Africa and then Lord willing, to Asia. I'm so happy you are wanting to come along. Archives
July 2015
Categories |