Overwhelmed

Standing on the corner of the cobblestone square, my mind was in twelve places at once. It was taking in the glorious sight of one of Guatemala's most frequented tourist attractions and very active volcano, Fuego. The gigantic mountain had clouds hanging near the top and smoke seeping out the top. There were two little boys behind me, attempting to convince me to buy a wooden flute. They all played the same sweet little melody and asked if I wanted one. There was a man strumming a guitar a few yards behind me. I wondered if he would let me play with him. The tuk-tuks in the street were driving at terrifyingly fast speeds and splashing water up from the puddles that had formed between the stones that devised the streets. It was rainy season and I wasn't sure if the discomfort I was feeling was the 100 % humidity or the words of a team member.

I snapped back to reality and processed what he was saying, "We're doing ATLs. You have the afternoon. Take a partner and Ask The Lord how he wants you to spend it."

PANIC.

Overwhelming panic.

What if I didn't hear anything? What if what I 'hear' is really just something my mind came up with? What if I think I hear one thing and my partner hears another? Speaking of partner... we have to pick partners?!

I was afraid I wouldn't hear from God. As other team members paired up, I stood frozen in the same spot and happened to lock eyes with our sweet team leader. As we leaned against a giant column, Angela softly spoke a sweet prayer asking God to reveal something to us. I'm glad she prayed without hesitation, because I was milliseconds away from throwing up. I told her about the man with the guitar who'd had my attention since we walked over.

Fast forward about twenty minutes.  There was some arguing with God on my part and lots of God convincing me that somehow I could do this... that I was a good communicator. And suddenly, in the midst of my personal chaos, a feeling of overwhelming peace took over my overwhelming panic. We found that Kenneth was a charming young man who was excellent at his craft of playing guitar. We found that he walked with the Lord, but had recently strayed off the path. He worried that if he returned once again to his Father and fell back into the partying and the drugs, God wouldn't take him back again. We shared with him the story of the prodigal son. A story that, in my personal walk with Jesus, has given me hope. As we spoke words of life and truth and declared freedom over our new friend, I felt God sweetly speaking over me as well.

The voice of the Lord is sweet. It is soft and it speaks with love and authority. And I have found that although my stomach twists and turns, there is a peace that transcends it all. When you obey, the voice of Jesus whispers sweet expressions of hope; hope that resounds louder than the fear of the unknown.