Untitled (and Uncomfortable)

Fifteen minutes after I read the email that shared with me my official service site for the year in Philadelphia, I stood up from my computer and began to giggle. I quickly walked to the living room to share the news with my Dad.

“Dad! I found out my service site for Mission Year. I’m going to be working at the People’s Emergency Center in their Center for Digital Inclusion and Technology.”

By the time I reached the word “Technology” the giggles within me bubbled into full out laughter.

I proceeded to tell Dad how I’m going to be assisting in the classes given by the CDIT and will also be doing some administrative work. Throughout all of this—giggles.

Sometimes the only reaction I have is laughter. Sheer, doubled over laughter.

“I FEEL SO UNCOMFORTABLE.” I screeched to my Dad as I doubled over laughing.

*  *  *

I’ve been reflecting on some words written in an email from my City Director “By doing Mission Year you have (whether you realize this or not) given up this idea of control—you've put following Jesus before everything else...before all of the details, before all of the attachments, before all of your desires. You've made Jesus your desire. Trust that and lean into that in these last few weeks of preparation.”

I read these words and looked up from my computer, “OH. That…well…that explains a lot, actually.”

This summer has felt like an intense wrestling match with God, where I’ve been holding a fistful of balloons that were never actually my responsibility to hold in the first place. The whole summer has been snipping these balloons painfully and individually, letting them free and opening myself to trust the One who walks with me through it all and is committed to me.

Trust isn’t comfortable for me at all. I would rather have control of situations and know exactly how to react to someone and how they’re going to react to me. I would rather know exactly how to assist someone in a computer class than go in knowing I’ll make mistakes. I would rather be super culturally competent so that when I live in a multi-cultural environment I will be able to navigate social situations perfectly and not hurt anyone. I would rather know exactly how to follow Jesus and live for Him rather than trust Him and live through Him.

Just reading that last paragraph exhausts me. I can’t live that way. I never could and I never will.

My whole live I’ve striven to live perfectly, but from now on out I’m choosing to live honestly.

I’m uncomfortable for a lot of the dynamics that Mission Year is presenting me, and they’re not even my realities yet. I’m uncomfortable at the thought of having people know my imperfections and insecurities and hurts, but I’m excited that together we can encourage and challenge one another and work through conflict that will inevitably happen. I’m uncomfortable that being in a multicultural and multi-socioeconomic environment will bring my biases to a stark forefront, but I’m excited to listen to stories and empathize. 

I’m uncomfortable. So so beautifully and mysteriously uncomfortable.

(But I’m still choosing to release my anxieties and recklessly move towards You, even in this.)

 

I’m walking day by day with you and trusting what You say is true.

Your sovereignty transcends my anxiety; You are the Truth.

I’m thirsty for You, God, thirsty for You.

So I’m walking day by day with You and trusting what You say is true.