Just a few days ago marked the four month mark of when I’m coming back home to Texas.
Four months, and then I’ll be leaving this wonderful island-type country filled with tea, biscuits, and weird accents.
It’s definitely been one heck of an adventure. One that’s been exciting and spontaneous, and that’s led me to meet so many different people from different parts of the world that I never found myself to be friends with, let alone best friends with, and that’s also led me to be closer to God in ways I never found to be remotely possible.
Sure, I’ll be coming home to start a new adventure, but there are definitely moments where I’m not sure if I’m ready for this chapter I’ve been reading to be over.
But as the bitterness and sadness starts to resonate inside of me that I’m leaving the place that I’ve called home for the last almost-two years, my heart gets so anxious and actually yearns for what is in Texas.
This doesn’t happen too often, guys, but I’m so incredibly homesick right now.
Y’all, I’m SO ready to cuddle in bed with my mom, to annoy the heck out of my brother, and to speak very broken Vietnamese with my grandmother. I’m ready for road trips to Common Grounds and to loiter in millionaire neighbourhoods with my best friends and to drink legitimate iced coffee and iced unsweetened tea, and eat fried chicken and mac & cheese again. There are moments where I can’t stop thinking about the next time I’ll get to eat a bánh mì or phở or bánh cuốn with a cà phê sữa đá or being able to drive a car again, or even simply just getting to worship with my Grace Community fam on Sunday mornings.
Basically, I just miss all of the things that I left behind two years ago and again this past summer when God CALLED me to love the apathetic, hopeless-feeling teenagers of the United Kingdom.
And don’t get me wrong. Things are going so impossibly well over here, and we’re seeing so many amazing things happen that I KNOW only God can do, and it’s all so, so great, so I still can’t help but to feel guilty that my brain and my heart aren’t present at the moment.
These last few days (or weeks even), I’ve been repeating the words, “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”
But everything changed today. Basically, I got hit by a semi-truck that’s driving on the autobahn, and that made me realise how much I’ve been leaning on myself and my own insecurities and feelings rather than the goodness of God and his strength and known facts.
During devotions, we talked about the world-famous passage of Peter trusting Jesus enough to walk on water. And excuse me, but that is some scary stuff. I mean, I can’t even swim. But Jesus didn’t tell Peter, “Yo, no worries. I’m going to have a bridge magically appear for you to walk across,” but instead, He told him, “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”
Jesus didn’t give Peter the easy way out. He told Peter to walk across the dang water. So, though with doubt, Peter freaking did it. But he started to slip. And he cried out, “Lord, help me!”
And with that, Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, and said, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”
Peter was insecure and doubting in this situation and that caused Jesus to say the most convicting words (in my opinion) to him which was “You of little faith.”
Not gonna lie, y’all, I am currently Peter.
Jesus has given me the courage and the strength to help Him do His work out here in England — to help spread His Gospel to ones who’ve either never heard it or not truly understand it — and because things got scary or uncomfortable for me, I want to turn back to what is safe, what is secure, where I know I can pick myself back up. But Jesus isn’t telling me to go be safe, He’s telling me to walk across the waters, because He is in the boat, waiting for me. Waiting for me to trust Him and to go unwaveringly.
Rather than being the one with little faith, He wants me to be so full of it, I can’t help but to trust in Him.
He is so much bigger than the thoughts that I could ever think or the feelings that I could ever feel, and it’s the mind-blowing moments like this where I realise that no matter how much I miss my mom or drinks with the correct amount of ice or even the idea of stability, I’m ready to follow Him wherever He is willing to call me.
(…which currently is to continue working with these kids here in the UK, then onto my next adventure in the brilliant maple-syrupped land of Canada.)
Please pray with me, as I do only have four more months here in England to make an impact (even a small one) and for preparation to go to Canada for at least the next two years soon after. Please pray against any distractions, including homesickness, and for that courage to still keep walking on that lake.
Thanks guys. Miss y’all, love y’all.