Rest

"We are often in a hurry, but God is not." (Oscar Muiru)

I'm a busy guy, generally speaking. I'm a missionary, a musician, a photographer, a poet, I have almost 1200 facebook friends, (and I'd like to correspond with about 150 of them on a regular basis), and well, if there's something I can help with, I want to help. I'm also a high-achiever, I got all the best marks in school, and although I think it's in the Bible somewhere, that Spider-Man "with great power comes great responsibility" thing is probably one of my life mottos. Most of my life, I have a large to-do list in the back of my mind that is never finished: Pictures to post, messages to write, creative projects to work on, updates to complete.

I've been pretty worn down this summer. I've been looking for safety, for peace. I want to know who it is I'll marry and how that will work out, so that I can save myself and others pain and expectations. I want to have my plans all set up six-nine months in advance, because that's the cheapest way to travel, and it makes it a lot easier to figure out what you're doing and maximize efficiency. I was pretty mad at the SLI staff for not telling me I could come to SLI until March, because I wanted to have a plane ticket all the way back in November when flights were way cheaper.

God isn't very efficient. For most of the last year, I've been completely frustrated with Him, repeatedly asking for the plan, the girl, and the money. It affected SLI negatively. Impatience leads to discontent, discontent leads to fear and fear leads to frustration and sin. (Yes, Yoda helped me with that one) In the last months the smallest things that never upset me before made me fume, muttering streams of words I never used before to myself. And you know, I never cussed before not because I care about cuss words, but because I never had reason to express that kind of anger. I had peace, I wasn't in a hurry.

But I lost that peace somewhere. Being a missionary, hearing the subtle and NOT-SO subtle hints from every corner: "You should get married." "You should settle down." "How will pay for this?" "What if you get injured?" "Don't you want a real job?" "You won't do this forever will you?" And in those people so eager to protect me from the wilds of God and the desert waiting place, the voice of the devil spoke through pastors and family members and well-meaning friends. "You're going with an organization right?" I started to doubt myself. I started to make my own six-month plans, all the while, God was telling me, every time I encountered someone who spoke with the Spirit rather than the flesh, REST. I started trying to be the most professional missionary I could, keeping track of every expense even though no one asked me too, holding myself to a higher standard than any vocational missionary I know, and yet, all many people could say was "you're not with an organization." I upgraded wife-seeking to a high priority, because ministry leaders made me feel that I was somehow defective as a single 25-year old. In wanting to prove to them that I wasn't taking advantage, that I really was trying to follow God, my first thought became "does my mission make sense to them?", rather than "where to next God?" My audience shifted, and there was no peace.

And I tried all my coping mechanisms, healthy and unhealthy, but the undercurrent of frustration meant I was spending most of my energies dealing with lesser frustrations than had ever bothered me before.

So during our 2nd worship night of SLI, I ask for prayer about the future, particularly this big question mark in September. And I'm about 3/4ths of the way through laying this out, and one of the students interrupts me and is just like "you just need to rest, He'll take care of it." And I was like "you're right, but geez, could you let a guy finish." So then the next morning Pastor Saulius embarked on a three-week series on rest. And I'm just like growling at the student who said this too me, but moved. Week one was about taking on His yoke. Week two was about Sabbath, which, is something I've been convicted that I should do for some four years now, but I've only actually done for about one of them.

On Tuesday last week I injured my knee playing football (gringo-translation: soccer). Grounded. On Thursday I had the opportunity to go work at a camp in B-lar-s. It was perfect, it got me out of the Schengen for two weeks, it's Bel-ru-, which is super-exciting, and I could've made it work. I had one afternoon to decide, and if I had decided I was going, I'd have been headed out the next day. I decided to pray. And God had already told me, rest, and I prayed more, and it was like "no, if I'm honest with myself, I know I'm supposed to be resting." And honestly, I was annoyed, and disappointed I didn't have another opportunity to show spontanaiety. (I've jumped on a missions trip the day it was leaving once before.)

Week three Saulius was talking about entering God's rest from Hebrews, and during communion I was just crying out to God, "God, I don't really like you right now, but I can't live without your peace anymore." And I felt an immediate calming in my Spirit in these confessions and prayers. At lunch afterwards, I was talking to this guy from church, he's from Central Asia, the country I felt called to. And he's like "maybe I'll do business, but I think I'd really like to do something social..." And I'm like "like what?" And he's like "Well..." I'm like "no seriously..." And he's like "transitional living/jobs for orphans" and I'm like "that's exactly what I want to do with my life, in your country."

And it's so silly, all this time I've spent worrying, all the stress and opportunities wasted while I was trying to figure this out on my own. If I'd have bought my tickets in November, it's quite possible I would be back in the US already, would've missed this. I was ready to jump away to Belarus, and I would've missed the more important connection. I could've very easily decided to not go to church that morning, I've been pretty discouraged about that lately, but I went. I nearly didn't go out to eat after church, but I believe in community, and after-church lunch is a space I've decided that is just always worth creating. And you know, even if I meet with this guy this week and it comes to nothing, or if it ends up seriously re-orienting my plans, I know that God is big enough to make a way where there seems to be no way. And at least for the rest of this Sabbath, I've think I've learned the lesson about resting and letting God work.

So what's the plan? Haha. We'll see what we can figure out tomorrow. Today, the plan is to rest.