Not What I Want

Back in Korea! It's hard to believe I'm into my fourth year already. Sometimes I'm surprised by how comfortable and well-adapted I feel here, but other times I'm back at square one, lonely and doubtful of my purpose here. But I know this is where God has led me, and I have hope that through this experience He is training and shaping me for something more down the road. Someone said recently, "Everyone thinks their current situation is training for something more; but I think our whole life is training for eternity." I guess that's right; we are always in training.

I was talking with a missionary yesterday, and she said she and her family are going to New Zealand soon, as her husband has been asked to coordinate the Korean mission work there. I asked her if she was happy about that or disappointed, and she paused as if she'd never stopped to consider. "Mm, I'm not disappointed, but I'm not happy either; I'm just a missionary, so I go. I do worry about my parents though, as they're getting along in age..." Her answer surprised me, and yet I could relate (not that my parents are old!).

Most of the time I'm very happy and content to be in Korea, but on gloomy days I bewail my loneliness and limitations and wonder what I'm still doing here. Neither my career nor my education are advancing, I'm not building up savings or starting to pay off a house, my relationships have seemingly maxed-out in this community, and my Korean is still halting. There are reasons to feel discouraged.

And yet... I'm so glad I haven't quit because of those feelings. As much as I have yet to learn here, I've already grown so much. I've learned about giving and sharing and teaching and loving and persevering--especially persevering--and trusting God for situations out of my control, and yielding my will to another's, and trusting God to provide and be faithful and finish His work in me.

So whether I say it aloud or not, this is my urgent plea: "God, don't let me get in my own way!" In any season of life--moreover, on any given day--if I asked myself what would make me happy, my answer would vary according to my narrow scope of vision. Happiness--as well as sadness, thank goodness--are just temporal, rather fleshy feelings. But true and enduring happiness, which is really joy, is rooted in trust* and grown by obedience. We trust that God is good and faithful and has our best and His glory in mind, and we act out our trust by walking with Him where He leads.

I fear we too often miss the point--and the Way--by asking ourselves what we want, when what will really bring us joy is following our Father like a child walking through a frenzied crowd latches on to his mother's hand and stays close at her heels. "Do you want to stay in Korea or move back to the U.S.?" "Do you want to work at a Christian school or a public school, or maybe a private academy?" "Do you want to live in the city or the country?" These questions aren't bad, but I find them a bit irrelevant, as the missionary did whom I questioned yesterday. I think we focus too much energy directing ourselves in the ways we want to go and assessing how much we like different options (or pseudo-options, as we often don't have the control we think we do), at the expense of missing the way God is calling us and adjusting our steps to fall gracefully and nimbly on the terrain He leads us through. We are the musicians, not the Composer, and not the Conductor. Usually when I'm frustrated, complaining, or plain discontent, it's because I've confused my role and measured a situation according to my plan or my preferences. If I were to give any advice, it would be to not have too many preferences or be closed off to too many possibilities, because in whatever area you are closed off, that is where God likes to teach surrender. :-)

We can have thrills and shallow, fleeting happiness, and even believe we are enjoying God's best in our life. But in the end we will see what is real gold and what is fool's gold. Fool's gold can be awfully deceiving. As we continue to build our houses--on the Rock, that is--let us continue to consult the Blueprint, keep going back to the Designer, keep checking in with the Architect, to make sure its done according to the Plan and not by our own fancies. And really, why would we want to tweak the original, when it was made by the One who choreographed dancing colors for the Northern Lights, put the pulse in the ocean, and made each of the 30,000 lenses in a dragonfly eye.** How could our best masterpieces ever exceed the Great Creator's? And the house we build is not for our own glory, our own mortal preferences and will, but for the eternal soul, the place where God lives, a house for His glory.

*As Ann Voskamp (a fabulous writer--check out her blog) unveils in her book One Thousand Gifts, the Greek word pisteuo which appears 220 times in the New Testament, most often translated as "belief," really means "to put one's faith in; to trust." As she figures then, "authentic, saving belief" is the "very real, everyday action of trusting."

**In researching this fact on dragonflys, I found another that could be the foundation for an entirely new blog post. Get this: "Most of the dragonfly life span is spent in the water as a nymph. During this period, which can last up to a couple of years, it sheds its skin many times. Finally it crawls onto land to break out of its skin as a full fledged dragonfly." Is this not an allegory for our earthly Christian life?! Most of the earthly Christian life is spent in a blurred reflection of the Glory. During this period, which can last up to 80 or 90 years, the Christian shares in Christ's death and resurrection at many intervals along the way. Finally the Christian dies a final death, breaking out of its mortal body to join Christ in heaven as a full-fledged co-heir of God.