Home?

This summer, I went to church camp. I never liked camp much growing up, so this was a bit of a stretch for me. Turns out, I'm glad I went! No, I'm not jumping up and down again to go back, but I got to spend time loving the kiddos God put in my path. That made it all worth it, and I learned a little something, too.

One day, I overheard camp faculty talking about how they were looking forward to sleeping in their own beds again. (There was no air conditioning in our cabins and the beds were old and squeaky, so I totally agreed.) Then I got to thinking. Oh, wait. When I leave camp, I'm not going back to my own bed. No, I'm going back to live with my host family. Then I thought about my room at home. I share it with my two sisters, but I'm gone most of the year at school. When I visit home from school and walk into my room, it feels weird. It doesn't quite feel like mine anymore. Life goes on in there without me. How about school? Uh, no. As much as I love living in the dorms, they do not belong to me. I'm moving on in another two years.

After these realizations, I felt a little panicked. God, where do I belong? I'm tired of not belonging and not having a place to call "mine." I can't go on living like this!

It's at times like these that old hymns come to mind: "This world is not my home, I'm just a passing through..." You know, God reminded me I might just have to get used to this not feeling at home thing. I gave my life to Christ. I don't belong to this earthly kingdom. Rather, I belong to a heavenly one. Truly, could I ask to belong to anyone or anything better?

I have a home waiting for me, but 'til then, Here I am, Lord. Where shall I go next?

Update: I am back at home now (that is, my present, earthly home with my wonderful family). With my summer internship over, I'm catching up with my family and taking a few deep breaths before the next semester begins. I truly had a blessed  time in Iowa, and I'm so grateful that God gave me the strength to go so far alone. He surrounded me with a loving church family, and gave me a safe place to grow and learn. Thank you, Lord!

P.S. In case you are wondering about the sock monkey, here's your explanation. My mentor and the children's minister at the church where I was serving this summer, was gone taking care of her parents. One of my friends had begun sending pictures of this sock monkey (a gift from said mentor) and sending them to her. At Overnighters camp, and later at VBS we took pictures of "Mr. Socks" to keep my mentor updated. In other words, Mr. Socks is our version of "Flat Stanley."

The Rich Young Ruler And I

Twice this year I taught kiddos the story of the Rich Young Ruler (See: Matthew 19:16-22, Mark 10:17-27). Twice I studied the passage, memorized the story, and spoke it in such a way in hopes of reaching the hearts of my students. Twice it in went in my head and out my mouth, without reaching my own heart. It wasn't until the Monday after the last time I taught it, that I finally digested the story.

I was struggling inside. I had dreams and hopes that I feared would never happen. There have been many times when I have been so fearful and frustrated that I get angry at God. This particular time, I was angry at myself even, because I was letting my dreams make me miserable. That's when the words of Matthew 6:21 came to mind: “Where your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be.” The desires of my heart were all wrapped up in my dreams. Not that dreams are bad. I truly believe that many dreams God builds inside of us. But I was letting my happiness be dependent on whether or not my dreams happened. How does this make me like the rich young ruler?

1. First, I have a genuine desire to serve God and have eternal life. 
2. Second, I often look at myself and I see that I've done okay. I grew up knowing the Bible, breathing the Bible, obeying the Bible. In fact, I look pretty "good."
3. Jesus looks at me and sees that there is something I lack. As the second hour teacher taught the kids, it's like I gave one part of my heart to Jesus, but the other part I said, “You can't have.” I don't trust you with my dreams. They have to happen.
4. Finally, as a result, I broke my own heart. I was walking away sad because I refused to give up my earthly treasures (dreams) for heavenly ones.

On that particular Monday, I was tired of walking away sad. I finally said “That's enough.” Jesus, here's the other part of my heart. I'm following you. That means I'll go where you ask me, do what you want me to, and trust that your dreams are much bigger and better than anything I could ever dream. Lord, be my strength. I know there are times when I will be tempted to snatch that part of my heart back, or maybe even a different part. So I ask, Father, that when I do, that you will whisper in my heart to give it back. Then, you can fill the whole of me with your healing joy, and I will be ready to minister as you called me.