Bulgaria: 5.7.2018, month 8
“You know where i live.”
“Yea, one pillow away.”
This post is dedicated to those who have supported and have continued to support me: for your prayers, your interest (as you follow my journey you allow me to have people who can comprehend and understand this year and meet me where i am at), and your financal self-sacrifice:
To Jackie, Meliss, the anonymous ones <3, Janelle and Jesse, Kayla, Haley Lowe, and Sindy:
How can i thank you enough?!?!?!
My feet have rested in beautiful little nooks because of you. My soul has breathed. My hands have found their voice…
From the bottom of my heart, i extend my gratitude!
I could not have imagined the last 8 months without the green pastures He lead me to through you.
A special post-Romanian shout out to my Hyungboo and Aunt JoAnni! Im not sure if its the same orphanage – and although i myself wasnt able to go – a friend and squad mate of mine went to one in Bucharest and wrote about it here:
The experience itself:http://cassiewalton.theworldrace.org/post/when-living-the-dream-is-actually-excruciating
Thank you for what you have done in supporting me this year! Thank you for your love and prayers and financial support so that we could be here. So that these little abandoned ones could be held, wept and prayed over, and loved – if even for these small moments. Your support allowed this, as i did my part last month in ministry, it allowed others to do this part of ministry.
When i see eyes come back from some unknown place, and the small worn face crack a smile of being seen and acknowledged, then my heart finds its rhythm.
We have been cleaning the neighborhood and going to rest homes and spending time sharing our stories and hearing theirs.
It sounds more glamorous than it is…
Strange and unwelcome smells and feelings meet you as you step over the threshholds of these concentration camp like atmospheres. Their bodies have become the cells and gaurds, hindering their escape.
I got a message from my sister that my grandmothers health was faltering…she has stopped eating.
My heart tears in a way i cant explain. I know, the last few years that i have become her best friend.
And now i hold this privilage.
And I am so honored.
And i am so scared to lose her.
Sad – grieved – to think of her there in the kitchen, alone, sitting at the table without me…
And now she is waiting for me to return.
I called her around midnight the other night. She sounded barely alive…so weak…
After a while of our conversation i audibly heard hope and life creeping back into her, so that when i finally had to let her go, the spunk had returned to her voice.
At one point in the conversation we got disconnnected and i thought id lost her and broke down sobbing…
How can life be so complicated?!?!
Its is so painful to have disconnection with just my teammates – and to sit with these dear old people i have no idea about, to see their tears, to hear of their lives, to know most of their families are all in America, or another country – to have a dear old lady clutch my hands and cry out, “My names Christina and im so lonely!” all her wrinkles wet with tears…
And at some point i have to wrench myself away, say goodbye – devestating to do this to her after all the others in her life have already done this – climb into a van and speed off down a dirt road with painful potholes for an hour….
clouds of dust rutted into my soul.
i dont even know what i am trying to write. I just wanted to share with you what im swimming through emotionally in regard to ministry/what we are doing here in Bulgaria…
Real life. REAL LIFE. That’s all this is.
Real life, with the ability to help others on a more consistent intentional way – with some wierd conditions, like living with 5 or 6 strangers and making life work with them…
Like college all over again – but for me – like college dorm life with high school students.
(OK, DO NOT TAKE THIS PERSONAL TEAMMATES! Geeze…)
And living out of a bag…
I cannot express to you the joys and sorrows, the annoyances and at times anger of all of everything. You know, real life.
And i cannot convey to you how literally unremarkable the race has been in a very specific way:
the way this is SO normal life for me.
(PLEASE DONT MISUNDERSTAND!!)
I dont feel like anything on the race has been too much out of my comfort zone or how i havent had the culture shock others have…
I feel like waking up and being in a different place every few weeks is so…normal.
…and I dont feel like i have to adjust at all.
And the part thats not: being forced to live with people (i may not always want to be with):
– living with this, “you know where i live”-“yea, the pillow next to me” lifestyle has become normal too.
Like a marriage…and i know that when “this” stops, i will … miss it.
I will feel the loss.
but…ministry…will i ever be able to callthis ministry again? I think its normal life – or should be. Loving people, serving people, helping people – wherever i can, however i can – when i see a need: Should be normal life.
ok. Prayer life.
i have this very normal way of talking at -or with- God throughout my day. And ive found it increasingly hard to make specific time to just push everything else aside, drop everything, and focus wholey on the Lord alone, and ask specific questions. Like, “what do you have for me after the race?” – which is an important question that i wasnt planning on leaving until now. But suddenly theres only three – THREE – months left.
And then this thought:
I have 5 team members. And then of course, all of you my squadies, and then – thinking of it – the 7th member of our team: Christ.
Christ who walks with us, according to psalm 139, in the highs and the lows and till the end (matthew 28th).
one pillow away…
Jesus is just one pillow away…
So why am i so hessitant to just turn my head, ask the questions that raid my sleep at night, and shut up and listen?
I am still too full of my own sufficiency.
I still live as if it all depends on me…
In some aspects, i still lack so much in how i choose to live my life.
I’m struggling with my own lack of self control in my daily habbits.
Please pray for me to have strength to live out more of how i actually would like to…
Im sure my spirit is willing, although my flesh is weak.
one pillow away.
crawling across my teammates mattress…
THIS IS THE RESULT OF MINISTRY!
…what spiritual ticks have i gathered in life, and on the race, that i need to pluck from my life so it can stop sucking blood from me?
So many questions as i live this life.
What questions has my journey/writing invoked in you? Any?
I’d love to hear!
checkout my nail polish painted glasses! =D