Lost

I'm working on getting lost.

That sounds like a really strange thing to say, but really; it's a good thing. I promise.

But I'll guarantee that earlier today, I saw no good in it.

Tears fell from closed eyes and brushed trembling lips. A heart seethed with questions, confusion, and anger. Frustration's volcano was very near an eruption, not too unlike the 1980 Mt. St. Helens catastrophe in both fury and results. Thankfully, it didn't explode. The volcano became a cup, and instead, it filled to the brim and drops of sorrow trickled down.

Through clenched jaw, clenched fists, and clenched dreams, I asked the question heavenward. I thought You were speaking to me. You were keeping me going. I thought...I thought... But now what?

I got no reply from heaven. At least not right away.

Maybe in my heart I knew what the answer was. And maybe I was asking for another way because, like even Jesus did, my heart shrank from what such a sacrifice would involve. Maybe. I don't really know.

I've been afflicted with a strange sickness the last week. Haven't taught class all week long because of it. I've been feeling alright--a little tired, nauseated or whatever from day to day--but really, with as contagious as hand-foot-mouth disease is, I didn't want to be spreading it. By this morning I was almost ready to integrate myself into society again, but in a way, I'm glad I didn't. I needed what I heard during that time.

I leaned back in the chair on the porch, looked at the ceiling, and had this thought. It was three years ago...but I did the same thing. I just let go--totally abandoned the issue at hand and myself as it was concerned to the Lord. I was done: I couldn't do it anymore. And I just let go. Without any of the excess baggage that often comes with letting go. I did it. I cringed a little. Am I being asked to do that again?

I remembered that time before; when, after having been brought to a climax, I was finished. I was just done with hanging onto it. That was also on a mission trip: my very first, to the Philippines. I'd had enough--and right then and there, I walked upstairs to my room, locked myself into the bathroom, cried a little and just let it go. It left me as I spoke and a flood of peace filled my heart and calmed my soul. That peace remained. It's still there.

Dejavu can be good. This time, I didn't find it to be so.

But then, there: it's 12:30 and I need to run across the road to the Ross's house to eat lunch. Everyone's eating by now and there won't be anything left if I don't go now. Up I popped, and off I went.

Somehow, as I interacted with other people, the raging storm in me began to calm. I smiled, sat in a corner, even laughed--trying to move on for the sake of those around me. Koo Koo Paw looked at me and tilted her head way down towards the floor. So I tilted my head too and grinned at her. She grinned right back and hid her face.

I got melted a little later. Loosened from my conflict inside. Inge laid down on the floor so Koo Koo Paw could give her a kiss, and the little girl turned around instead and walked straight toward me and kissed me. Funny baby--knew exactly what I needed.

I left the Ross's with Hannah, headed for the house. I considered going on the Sabbath outing to the village in the mountains, but then, why go? Sharon's sick, Hannah's too tired: I don't know many of the kids going. You know?

Well, something made me decide to go. Camera and Karen bag slung around me, sunglasses protecting my eyes, I rode on the back of the station wagon: again. Harvey tells me that I'm the thing that holds the back of the car down when they're driving. It's true: I can't get enough of it. And the kids seem to be getting used to it as well; although I'm sure they still find Tharamoo Heidi just so slightly mad. Oh well.

That ride was what I needed. That trip was what I needed. I got to interact alot more with the students, some of them mine--and the wind in my hair, the sights and sounds and the feeling of freedom that happens when I ride there. I felt refreshed...and somehow, my heart was okay with doing what God was asking. It wasn't so dreadful after all.

Freedom. That's what I've wanted all along. I've needed freedom from the chains that have bound me...but I didn't realize I needed to be freed from my dreams.

It was on the way back down the mountain, amid the glorious sunset and trying to snap pictures of the beauty around me while clinging to the back of a crazily careening vehicle, that it really settled in my mind.

I'm going to get lost. So lost that no one can find me.

Lost in the Lord. Lost in His people here. Lost in what I came to do. Lost in the moment, the now.

Without worrying about what's coming in the future.
Without wishing myself to a place far away.
Without doubting, fearing, having no faith in the God that's brought me so far.

"He who began a good work in you..."

...will be faithful to help this missionary get lost in her love for her Father, her love for the people, her love for His work.

So lost that you'll only find me by getting lost yourself.

I wasn't sure if I wanted this.

I'm sure now.

But only because God said so.

His way, after all, is best.

 Out for a walk with Hannah...

 

And we stumbled upon these curious things. Flowers, sure; but I've never seen a flower that looked like rubber.

Hannah and Thara Eh Guh Nyaw's littlest girl, Peh Pae Wa.

Gecko. I love those big ones.

I had no idea they had hydrangea over here, but lo and behold...

Look familiar? Made me a little sad to see this pup running around--Camo would've ended up looking just like him once he got bigger. *sigh*

Mr. Hill shooting the cactus

We had a very nice study with an older couple and younger couple on Jesus as our Friend.

Again, shooting things. Guess he didn't realize he was being shot too. 

This guy, on the other hand, was very aware of the shooting, as is evidenced by the look of trepidation and horror written all across his face, and the hand up, pleading for mercy.

Cows. The babies are just so cute, but they grow up.

An assortment of girls who went with us.

Oh yes. They discovered my sunglasses.

And needless to say, they liked them.

Alot.

Receding mountains, distant shores, filled with people, villages, faces....

It's "the thing" to get your picture taken. I enjoy being the photographer, but the problem is that I get stuck behind the camera most of the time and don't get any pictures of myself. Oh well.

Mu Wa Wa, my sixth grader.

You should've been here to see this. Camera in all is Nikonish glory could not capture it adequately.

Again, Mu Wa Wa.

Third grade girls.

This picture I endangered my neck to get. I rode all the way up and all the way down on the back of the station wagon, and let me tell you, trying to get pictures with a complicated DSLR while hanging onto a moving vehicle, trying to keep your footing on the small rail at the back, and maintain balance around hairpin curves is quite the acrobatic feat. I'm still sore.

Just beautiful. I wish I hadn't been moving so I could've adjusted settings and made it turn out better.