How It's Possible to Be Reluctant But Blessed.
I strive to be someone driven by passion and curiosity. I work hard and push myself, often simply to see how long it will be before I crack. It’s more for the sake of loving a challenge than masochism, I promise. My dreams and plans for the future are no exception, particularly this summer.
But, despite my confidence in myself and God’s plan for me, each aspect of the internship with World Next Door has been a challenge. When I applied, I struggled with the fact that I might not be good enough. That I still had so much to learn and that God’s plan for me might be very different than the one that I had for myself. I worked on my application for at least four months, writing and re-writing my essays, and above all, desperately praying for direction. To my disappointment, I never got a clear answer from God. There was no encouragement or apparent yes, but there also wasn’t a resounding no.
So I applied. And then I waited. Meanwhile, my overactive brain played out every potential situation. I imagined the internship committee laughing at my submissions before tossing them aside. I jealously envisioned those I deemed “less qualified” being selected instead, while I was left to find another internship opportunity.
Don’t worry, I repented later.
I prayed a lot during my waiting period. Admittedly, the actual amount of time I had to wait was much shorter than it seemed. Nevertheless, between miniature freak-outs and general spastic-ness, I muttered a lot of prayers. I have to say that most of them were far more selfish than they should have been. The prayers involved an excessive used of the word “I” and few actually focused on would be best for World Next Door and the partner ministries. Instead, it was all about me.
I had the right desires and direction, but the wrong attitude.
When I received an email saying that I had been selected for an interview, I breathed a sight of relief ... for about two minutes. Then an entirely new batch of worries surfaced. Would I fail after having made it so far? After all, I was younger than many of the other applicants and consequently felt like I had something to prove. I tried to play it off like I knew God had my best interests at heart, but inside I was already planning on how I could make myself look better and secure the position.
On the day of the interview, the weather in Indiana was more wretched than usual. Below zero temperatures and an impending ice storm probably should have kept me at home, but I stubbornly got in my car and drove to Noblesville. As I walked toward Grace Community Church for the interview, I tried to stop my hands from shaking ... and failed miserably.
Walking in the doors, I prayed the first entirely sincere and humbled prayer about the opportunity I had thus far: “ Dear God, please don’t let me act like an idiot.”
To the best of my knowledge, I didn’t. I was still nervous, and I don’t know that I had the right answers to all of the questions, but I finally relaxed. The interview was fun and the group of us spent most of the time laughing and getting off topic, which I took as a good sign. We went over our allotted time and I left feeling content. Not confident or cocky, but content.
I remember thinking, “Well, I’ve tried the best I can. It’s not up to me anymore.”
As if it ever was.
Despite this less than profound statement, I was still on edge for the next few days. I checked my phone and emails obsessively and I’m sure made the people I care about miserable. I had one of my least favorite classes at the exact time I was supposed to get a call about the internship. When I saw that I had missed a call, halfway through the class, I literally had to force myself not to run out of the room. As the professor was dismissing us, I pushed past my classmates and left all of my belongings in the classroom.
Because you’re reading this post, you probably know that the phone call would tell me that I’d gotten the position.
My friends and I squealed for a good five minutes once I hung up. For once my happiness was enough. No worries or doubts, just joy.
That was almost three months ago. Since then, I’ve had to work through fundraising and convincing various members of my family that I will, in fact, not be eaten by a wildebeest while living in Nairobi.
I’ve made dozens of calls humbly asking for prayer and support and cried many times thinking that there was no way that the funds would ever come in. But somehow, they have and continue to arrive.
I have bruises down my arm from enduring the appropriate shots to travel and have a prescription for malaria medicine that I pray works. I even have my suitcase sitting out in my room, where it mocks me as I continue to neglect the packing process.
Every time I go out to eat, run to Walgreens, get coffee with a friend, or sit at Church, I have opportunities to talk about what I’ll have the chance to do. Apparently, choosing to intern for a non-profit in the city and slums of Nairobi automatically makes you a great candidate for a conversation, even if you’re a complete stranger. Suddenly, I have an amazing opportunity to talk about the issues and places that tug at my heart the most.
Throughout this process, God has blessed more than I ever though possible. While I may have had many selfish moments, he’s continually been faithful. I don’t deserve the opportunities, but he seems to think my meager gifts have worth.
And still, I question.
Currently, most of these questions are connected with ability, not opportunity. God has prepared the way for me; all I have to do it take it. I leave in just under two weeks, but I can’t seem to shake the feeling that I’m not good enough. That somehow choosing me was a mistake and surely World Next Door’s board will realize their grievous error. They’ll put me on the first plane home once they figure out I can’t write and I’ll sheepishly call my mother from the airport to bum a ride home.
I’m telling you this not for sympathy, but for the sake of transparency. I’m not anyone special. I fail and I have insecurities. Sure, I can type and press a shutter release, but that doesn’t make me a great writer or photographer. All I have that makes me special is the call God has placed on my life.
And really, I can’t take credit for that.
Over the next few months you’ll see me continue to struggle. I’ll experience culture shock, desperation at the sight of extreme poverty, and joy as I encounter God’s work in unexpected places. I’ll do my best to continue to be honest and self-aware so that my experience won’t be wasted.
As I get on the plane June 1st, there might be a small part of me (and chances are I’ll never admit it) that very much wants to remain on the ground. To stay safe and comfortable instead of being challenged. I won’t listen to it, but it will be there. It will be there along with my doubts, my insecurities, and my barely-realized hopes. It will be a whirlwind experience, in the best and worst ways.
Bring on the uncertainty.
