fight

The last week and a half have been rough.

I’ve been faced with disappointment, having heard nothing about my visa.

Dealing with identity and unconsciously wondering what I’m doing here; trying to rest in the fact that my identity is not contingent on what I do, but who I am, yet not having truly committed this head knowledge to my heart.

I find myself listening to music in Portuguese and wanting to cry, thinking that one day I will understand and speak this language.

Reading a book about Pelé (the world’s greatest soccer player) and how he helped Brazil win 3 World Cup Championships, I feel my heart swell with pride.

My eyes are drawn towards Brasil’s flag and its colors and what I feel, I think, could be described as love and maybe even a sort of “national pride” if that’s even possible for a non-national.

And while my passport is in Brasil (along with my paperwork, being processed), I am not.

For a brief moment last night, I tossed around the idea in my head of giving up on going to Brasil.

However, in the last month (has it only been a month?) God has been beginning to show me something: the importance of the fight.

The things we fight to have, 
will be the things we fight to keep.

In this “fight” of going to Brasil, it hasn’t been as easy of a process as I originally thought. In this process, however, my heart has responded by crying out more for this country and my passion and my love has grown deeper and stronger.

As a result of this, I believe that when I am finally in Brasil and things get hard- I hit a wall regarding the language, I begin to feel homesick, I grow tired of rice and beans or whatever else that leads me to contemplate booking a flight back to California, I won’t because I would have fought to get to Brasil and I will, in turn, fight to stay there.

Some things in life are worth fighting for.

To me, Brasil is worth the fight.

Running in the (un)dark

I’m learning to trust.

Again and again and again and again.

Yesterday I was to pick up my visa from the Brazilian Consulate in San Francisco and I was even thinking about flying out then. A week and a half ago, I received word from the Consulate that my visa paperwork got sent to Brazil. When I asked if they had any rough idea or estimation of when I might receive it back, the answer given to me was, “I have no idea. We’ll call you.”

No date. No visa. No idea.

Just a word from God telling me to trust.

To plant my feet.

So I continue serving at the YWAM base here in Chico, involved in a variety of ministries while trying to figure out what it looks like to plant my feet right where I’m at, while at the same time prepare and be ready to go to Brazil. It’s a paradox of sorts… one that I haven’t quite got figured out. Yet.

Tonight, while leading worship for our DTS (Discipleship Training School), we began crying out to God for the people and the places he has put on our hearts. We cried out for family, for friends, for our nations, for Brazil.

After almost two hours of worshiping God in our native tongues (we have people from over 8 nations) I packed up my guitar and walked outside to talk to God.

I began to run. At one point I cried,

“I WANT TO GO TO BRASIL, GOD!”

I stopped, not wanting to run any farther, afraid of the dark road ahead and the creatures that live there.

“Keep running.” God told me.

“God, I’m scared. I can’t see.” I replied.

“I’m protecting you. I’ve gone before you.”

I looked back to where I had come from; the lights from our property could still be seen. I then looked forward, the road was dark and unknown.  

“Don’t look back. Keep on moving forward.” God said.

And so I ran until God told me to stop and turn around and begin walking back.

When I was running, it was dark. I didn’t know exactly where I was running to, or how long I would be running. I didn’t know exactly why I was running and I didn’t think it was exactly safe to be running.

But, God told me to run. This I did know.

And when I ran, I felt peace; I knew I was safe.

When it comes to what lies ahead of me, in this next season, I can’t see.

I don’t see the proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel” concerning my visa.

I can’t see what is going on “behind the scenes.”

And as much as I want to see, I know that I DO NOT NEED to see.

I can TRUST in my savior.

Because I know that HE sees.