As we enter into this new year, I feel as if so many things are zooming ahead of me. So often I'm asked what I'm doing after DTS. Why does it have to be such a complicated question? Why can't "going home" simply be an adequate answer? To me, the question of what I'm going to do is the same as asking whether I'm homesick - to which, the answer is most definitely yes. I'm sick for wanting to be surrounded by the people who love me most in the world all the time. Therefore, that's exactly what I'm going to do after DTS! I'm going to spend as much time as humanly possible with the people I've hated living all these months on the other side of the world from.
The past week we've been serving at a children's home, painting benches, along with other work they would have otherwise had to hire someone to do. One of my benches says, "Let the little children come unto me, and do not hinder them. For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these" in Swahili. And right now, I am definitely coming to God as a child! I am coming to my Heavenly Father, saying things like, "I miss my mommy!!" And honestly, I don't feel guilty or like I'm whining at all. Rather, I feel like a child always shares exactly how they feel with their parents, maybe not when they're older, but at least when they're little - and that's the most important time of growth. When I picture myself in the presence of God, my Heavenly Father, I'm sitting on His lap with my head rested against His chest (if He has one?), and He's stroking my hair in one hand while He envelops my little hands in His other. He's my Daddy! He cries when I cry, laughs when I laugh, and has a giant smile on His face while I dance around my room in my pj's. And no matter how old I get, that's never going to change. In fact, at the beginning of this new year, with another birthday just over a month away, I feel more like God's little girl than I probably ever have. I'm secure going wherever God calls me, and just acting like the dork that I am because I know it makes Him smile. And yes, He probably shakes His head every once in awhile, but always out of pure joy. My Daddy in heaven thinks I'm adorable - and I've found life is a lot more enjoyable when I choose to believe Him.
The past few months I've been in Kenya, I've realized the vitality of a revelation of identity in Christ. If my identity and self worth were not in tune with that which God sees in me, the past months would have been absolutely miserable! Because when people don't have a grasp of who they are in the Lord they look for that same sense of security anywhere and everywhere else. That's when people lose themselves, when we're unable to grasp a Kingdom perspective. Now, a Kingdom perspective in somewhat of a paradox - it's what allows us to feel so insignificant yet so valuable at the exact same time. It shows us that no part of life in this world is for our comfort or our glory at all - I'm even less significant than that tiny little dot I watch myself become as the airplane rises higher and higher off the tarmac. But remarkably, the God of All Creation takes me in as His own daughter! As little as I am in this big world, there is nothing my Heavenly Father desires more than to have a personal relationship with me, Chloe Anne. Everyday, He's leading me to become more and more of a woman after His own heart. Everyday, He throws His arms open wide to comfort His little girl who misses her mommy so terribly and to rejoice in her life.
I actually love that God sees me as His little girl! Especially over these past months, it has been such a comfort to me. I've mentioned before how I can feel so out of place here at times, and truth be told: that was probably an understatement! For example, to be perfectly frank, Christmas Eve was absolutely miserable. Apart from the expected severe homesickness and the late night hike to church, were the stares. I couldn't shake the thought, "I do not belong here," from my mind. Not one person in that room saw me as Chloe Anne, a daughter of The Most High God. They saw me as a mzungu who must be really crazy to be out at a midnight Christmas Eve service far out in the bush bush of Africa, a mzungu who was a complete stranger to their doctrine of how loud to sing, when to stand up, when to sit down, when to nod, and when to say, "Amen!" And probably a million other things I'm not even aware I do wrong (I'm very sure the list goes on and on!). It was probably one of the most degrading experiences of my life. And unfortunately, that degrading feeling is something I'm getting used to. It comes with a lot of constant stares and is not something I ever experienced in Rwanda, but in Kenya all to often. But as sad as it might be that this is something I'm used to, it's really not that big of a deal. It becomes a big deal, however, when I'm not in tune with my identity in Christ. That's why this revelation is so vital!
If I wasn't so confident that each and every morning my Heavenly Father is waiting for me with open arms to show His little girl this beautiful world He's created and all the unfathomable plans He has ahead of me, I would probably be very unhappy with my current situation. But, I'm not by any means! As much as I may have just made it seem I am currently in the midst of a slight depression, I am really not! Promise! I am very content, thrilled, and truly thankful to be curled up in bed on this late Kenyan evening watching one of my favorite sisters in Christ play Fruit Ninja on my ipad and feeling the beds we pushed next to each other shake every time the giant pomegranate pops up on the screen. I'm in the midst of an experience of a lifetime. And I wouldn't trade one minute of it for anything - each of every second is a part of the experience, even being stared at on Christmas Eve. It's moments where I exchange pictures with girls my age I will never meet again, make new international friends wherever I go, sit in a circle with my team of sisters laughing and listening to them talk about boys (girls really aren't that different no matter where you go), witness the light of Christ in these kids, and make a lasting mark in someone's life by simply painting a bench that make it all worth it.
We are now coming to the end of our third week of outreach (the second phase of YWAM's Discipleship Training School where students use the knowledge gained during the lecture phase to go out on tangible missions, traveling to partner with various churches and children's homes/orphanages in places of need in order to further make God known). We're finishing the third of nine STM's (short term missions) all thrown into one big, non-stop adventure. That means I've had African braids for four weeks now. And, it means I have eight short weeks before I am officially homeward bound. After thirteen of some rather long weeks, the remaining time is going to fly by! As far away as it feels at times, I am going to be home before I know it. And that's really lucky, because God knows........this little girl misses her mommy!
~ Chloe Anne
