Discontent

I wrote this on my other blog and didn't intend to post here which is more public, but after writing I felt led to throw it all out there.  I guess I still have a ways to go on the whole transparency thing.

Discontent.

The kind of discontent that drains your soul.

For over a year... I had one purpose....Bring my son home.  It was my mission.  It filled up my life--anticipation, prayer, paperwork, appointments, fundraisers, etc...  Every time a new picture or update would arrive in my e-mail my day would be so full of JOY and PRAISE.  It united our family deeply as we prepared our hearts for a new son, a new brother.  It took my FAITH to a desperate, depend on God at every moment, kind of place and I drank it up -- my cup overflowed time and time again as prayers were answered and miracles happened before my very eyes.  Then I traveled to Africa, stepped into a moment that had been waiting for me my entire life, and embraced my son.  My week spent in Africa was amazing, heart-wrenching, and life changing.  I have never in my life felt more alive.

Then I returned back to my life as I knew it.  The first month was full of rejoicing as everyone met Zalen.  It was full of tender moments as God knit us together, teaching each of us a new way to love.  Bringing a 3 year old home is very different then bringing your baby home.  You know so little about him.  I am still yearning for that deep connection I have with my other children.  I understand that takes time -- I have built that bond with my other children since birth.  Yet, I rejoiced at how Zalen just fit within the family.  Yes, there were adjustments but I was amazed at how well we meshed and stood once again amazed at how God works in all the details.  There were also amazing moments where friends and family got to meet him.  Some expecting a shy, withdrawn child were stunned when Zalen beamed his contagious smile, wrapped them up in a hug and received them with a warm accented "Hallo!"

It was shortly after the 1 month mark when things started going array.  I wrote on my adoption blog: I'm not sure who I am anymore.  What I once wanted out of life seems meaningless.  So many layers gone, I feel exposed and vulnerable.  But more importantly I feel ready to grow.  I am ready for God to teach me. 

I feel ready to grow...  I don't think I had any idea it would be painful and at times extremely lonely. 
It was a little over a month when the emotions started to overwhelm me.  The experiences of my time in the DRC started to filter into my dreams, children's faces; the pleading eyes of Philemon asking us to be a voice, to not forget; the man at the restaurant who asked us to take his brother's son home..... I ached for Africa.  I threw myself into my 7 challenge which I had already pledged to do before I even left.  It may sound crazy, but this 7 challenge against excess has been an act of confession and cleansing that my soul deeply needs.  With each phase I am asking God to forgive me for my excess and begging Him to help me understand why He ripped out a place in my heart and then sent me back home.

I confessed my guilt. To God, friends, family, and tried to vent it out through my writing.  I tried to excuse the emotions and find some sort of "normal" again.  I am shamed to say that when that "normal" did not happen... I got angry.  I got sad.  I was just all over the map.  I longed for people to understand where I was, how I felt. I didn't get why they didn't understand the urgency I felt in my heart that WE HAVE TO CHANGE - WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING TO HELP.  I didn't understand why I didn't have a dozen or so people jumping up and down to join my experiment against excess.  I started to really get angry at the complacency of people, the church, and if I am frankly honest walked a fine line of being self-righteous.  Don't worry Jesus is always quick to knock me off my high horse.  He swiftly reminded me that I was the same way before my own adoption journey, before He opened my eyes.  Once knocked off, I was just sad.  I was more then sad.  I was grieving.  Grieving that people around me thought the story was over because Zalen was home.  The story isn't over, I wanted to shout, Do you know how many I left behind?

I listened to my husbands frustrations as I sobbed all the way home from our date night because I felt guilty for spending too much.  "You are not going to change things by jumping down into the well with them," he said.  "Someone has to be the person at the top sending down the bucket to help them out."  I didn't care.  I told him I wanted to jump down into the well.  I kept going through the motions, the guilt eating away.  The desire to serve the least of these growing deeper.  The turmoil came to a head and I hit the altar one Sunday morning pouring out my guilt to God, surrendering that I would trust Him with this process, even if it hurt.

We hit the 2 month mark of Zalen being home and I knew I needed to pull myself together.  I didn't want to be so focused on my inner turmoil that I missed the blessing right before me.  My son was home.  He needed me.  My other children needed me.  I started focusing on them. As always, so much JOY comes from just being a mom.  Yet each night when my mommy role relaxed as they were each tucked into bed, my heart returned to Congo.  All the inner turmoil resurfaced as I prepared for a small group lesson one afternoon.  What am I willing to give up to follow Jesus?  What is the cost for me?"   In some way, I am searching for the treasure hidden in the field.  I want that unfathomable joy.  I just feel that is where we, as a church, as Christians go wrong.  We think we can follow Jesus without the cost.  It always costs.  You know what is hitting me right now like a ton of bricks is WHAT IT COST HIM!  We want the JOY, the blessing, without the cost.

In that small group -- I was honestly questioned - "Isn't there a time in your life when you can relax and just enjoy the blessings God has given you?  Do you always have to strive to do more, be more?"  Don't I?  I don't know.  Is it wrong to feel so discontented with where I am at?  I feel it is God that has placed that discontentment there -- so I would search for the hidden treasure.  I know God loves me.  I am secure as His child.  I am just not secure in my purpose.  He is remolding me.  He has opened my eyes to things of which I can not ignore.  My life has been changed.  To just be ok with where I am right now seems to be just like putting new wine back into old bottles.  It makes no sense.  You see this adoption journey was not just a fresh coat of paint on my soul -- it was more like a demolition party.  I am trying to rebuild with His blueprint this time, not the American dream that I have been fed all my life.

I understand... People like content people.  Content people are comfortable.  Discontent people are restless.  In fact it is defined as -- a restless desire or craving for something one does not have.  I do not have a clear understanding of what God wants from me right now.  He wants me here, yet my heart is torn between two continents.  My discontent makes me edgy, a bit crazy, but my desire to know God is intense.  I am sorry if I make you uncomfortable.  I am sorry that I drive you nuts about projects and Africa and loving orphans, but it has become the beat of my heart.  I am sad to know that I will lose some of you due to those that are unwilling to accept it nor connect with it.  I can't focus on you anymore.  My aim must be to please God.  I am thankful for those who are with me, the ones God is using to encourage me, to continue to be a voice.  In just the last week, He has sent two different people my way just to encourage me.  I also am thankful for your patience with me -- Like when I cry in Sunday School and you offer to me the transparency of your own heart.  I needed that.  To know I am not alone.

Wrong or right... I feel that the discontent is part of the process.