I haven't written a blog for a while now, mainly because my thoughts have mostly been streams of consciousness without any real conclusions. I often find myself struggling to put together sentences that could even begin to describe what I actually feel my heart wants to say. I write, and then I delete. I have about 40 blogs on this website that I just never posted because they were either never finished, or they just felt too raw. But the thought that I haven't posted a blog in over a month has been badgering me for weeks, and I finally have the time to just sit and let my heart breathe for a moment.
This past month and a half has been such a whirlwind of ups and downs.
I started and finished Module 4, most call it the hardest module at school, and I am currently in my last week of Module 5. To say that learning another language is challenging is the biggest understatement of the century. I think learning a new language is one of the hardest things I've ever done, and for some reason it's hard for me to admit that. While I actually really enjoy school, and feel like I have been blessed with such amazing teachers, I never expected it to be the emotional rollercoaster that it has turned out to be, and frankly, I've been feeling a bit exhausted with it all lately. I seemed to hit a wall as I finished Module 4, and I haven't quite been able to push past it yet.
The funny thing about learning a new language is it forces you to be vulnerable in the strangest sense. In order for my speaking to get better, I have to actually speak to people in Thai. I have to be willing to make mistakes. I have to be willing to accidentally say a swear word and not realize it until the gracious people in my life tell me that what I said was very, VERY wrong. I have to be able to be okay with relying on other people. And for reasons that I am still uncovering, I am so deeply terrified of that.
Since coming back to Thailand, I've been on a journey of rediscovering who I am, and who God is.
I wish I could say that every single day I am full to the brim with joy to be here, but I can't
(that doesn't mean I don't absolutely love being here.
It means that sometimes I have days that I don't necessarily love.. if that makes sense, ha).
I get homesick. Sometimes I wonder what the crap I'm doing here.
I cry, I forget the things God promised, I cry some more.
But then I take a deep breath,
get up off of the floor, and remind myself that my feelings don't always speak the truth.
These last two years have been the most challenging of my entire life, and I'm still working through some of it.
But I have peace.
I have peace in knowing that God's timing is the perfect timing.
I have peace in knowing that I am human, and sometimes humans feel things that don't reflect the truths their hearts know.
I have peace knowing that God did this, all of this.
He was the one who brought me here and He is the one who will sustain me.
And I have peace that even in the midst of everything I don't understand, I can be confident that I will see His goodness.
So I am learning to put my fear to rest.
And I'm finding that fear is something that doesn't go down without a fight.
Some days I succeed and others I don't.
But what I'm realizing is that even though being a missionary is proving to be harder than my 18 year old self initially dreamed it being, this is a sweet season of undoing. A season of being pressed up close to Jesus' side and breathing Him in like a healing balm. A season where I get to look Him right in the eyes and remember what it feels like to be brave again.
