Nonetheless

Around this time two years ago I was preparing to spend a week in a Country I'd never been on my first mission trip. I had given God an exceptionally feeble "yes" and wasn't fully aware of the size of the journey I was about to embark on with Him.

Seven days ago I returned from that same Country.

The three months I spent in Guatemala were good. I taught English and learned Spanish. I sang the Alphabet song more times than I can remember. I fell in love once again with how beautiful the people and the Country are. I rode in the bed of a pick up truck through the Guatemalan mountains. I drank coffee and lots of it. I formed friendships with the best people and found it exceptionally difficult to say goodbye. I got really alone with Jesus and He taught and showed me so much. I didn't learn to play the guitar, even though I told myself I would. I saw Church in a new and extremely refreshing light. I learned new definitions for worship and what it really means to be a worshiper of Jesus.  

The days I spent there were good, but they were hard.

I sat in the middle of homes composed of trash in communities found in one of the largest garbage dumps in Latin America. I saw faces of injustice. I saw hurt and held babies in my arms who'd seen more brokenness in their short two years than most people do in their lifetime. I saw remnants of destruction brought on by brutal civil war. I saw brokenness and countless forms of poverty. I saw things I still don't have words for.

And I wondered why.

I questioned God.

Why does poverty and injustice to such an extent exist? How do I to make a difference when the need is so great and the hurt is so deep? I wondered how it was possible that flying 3,500 miles to a country where, for the first month and a half, I couldn't even hold a meaningful conversation with anyone because of the language barrier, was worth it. I had countless questions.

And I think it's okay to be in that place. It's okay to sit down and throw a little fit. Cry. It's okay to be speechless. It's okay to get angry. Get righteously angry. But you have to get up from that place. You can't stay there. Allow your anger and brokenness to propel you forward into what you are called to do.

Love.

Over the past sixth months, I have experienced heartbreak. I've had backs turned on me and in return I wanted to turn mine. I have wanted to walk away from Ministry and the Lord. I've wanted to lock my heart away and close myself off from His people. But as God healed my hurt and as He continues to restore the hardened parts of my soul, I come face to face with the fact that we are called to love. And y'all. Loving hurts.

Loving people hurts. It's messy. People are messy. Sin is messy.

But we are called to love despite the hurt and the trust issues and the brokenness.

Nonetheless, we're called to love hard and love well.

 Even when time is short and goodbyes are inevitable. We're called to fight. Fight for the people God has placed in front of us. We are called to come alongside each other and pick people up. Whether that's across an ocean or across the street, God has people around each and every one of us who need to be loved.

We are called to respond. There is no other option.