Hold up!
What are you doing home so soon, Miss Jamie? I thought you weren’t supposed to be coming back to America until mid-March! What gives?
Settle down, good and faithful readers and listen to my last story (for this season) on God’s goodness.
It’s no secret that expatriate interns and fellows serving international human rights agencies often dream of their return to the motherland. Large-in-part, their time is spent focused on crossing the street, avoiding parasite ridden foods/beverages and doing laundry (so much laundry)…however, on the off chance that they have a moment of solace here and there, they might find their minds drifting to a place of familiar comfort, breakfast cereals, talk radio and fireworks used in moderation. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you: America.
To be honest, since my plane first touched down in the Mumbai back in 20-10, I felt fairly certain that my time abroad would last a little longer than originally anticipated. I cannot explain it, but I knew that the race marked out for me in Mumbai had two laps instead of one. With that expectation in mind, I was given a certain measure of grace that allowed me to really “dive in”. I invested in things temporary expats typically do not: comfortable couches, coffee grinders, absurdly cushy mattress pads, frequent shopper cards from all major Mumbai retailers, etc. Looking back, it was a good move.
Along with that measure of grace came a pleasant cloud surrounding my eventual return back to the US. I rarely thought about it. It seemed so far away – why put myself through delightful daydreams filled with lane driving, red meat and Jon Bon Jovi themed road trip montages when I could be dreaming about the benefits (and believe me there are plenty) of using squatty potties versus English toilets? Truly, it was a blessing to “know” that my time in Mumbai was marked out for a longer-haul. Otherwise, I don’t think I would have invested in life in Mumbai in quite the same way.
However, just because I knew I would be in Mumbai for some time, didn’t mean I didn’t occasionally wonder what my life would look like when the time came for me to depart Mother India and come home to the Red White and Blue.
For over a year and a half, I’ve been praying about what that would look like. Here’s what I had:
•Experience working in the Community Relations department of an international human rights agency, liaising between them and my home church (in Cincinnati).
•Helping set up a new NGO funded by the same home church and managing communications between the two.
Out of these bullet points an idea was born in my brain (and in my heart). What if, I could eventually work at my home church one day, in a position that would enable me to further facilitate relationships with partner organizations in India and co-lead volunteer efforts at home. That would be grand!
I kept that vision in my heart and prayed about it regularly for many, many months. Here and there when friends and family back home would ask me about my eventual plans upon my return to the States I would hint at my idea but simply state that it would be an ideal situation and that I was leaving it in God’s hands.
Well. Now, I’m home. I’m in America. I’m sitting at the kitchen table in my parent’s house listening to my mom gab to her mom on the phone. My cat is sitting on top of the kitchen cabinets watching me as if she knew me from somewhere. There is snow on the ground. I’m drinking coffee. My mom is talking about groupons now (what are those?)…
I’m relaxed. I’m not worried about what is next. I’m not doubled over with anxiety about how I’m going to pay for my car insurance or my student loan payments. I’ve got a new job lined up!
Guess what I’ll be doing?
Further facilitating relationships with partner organizations in India and co-leading volunteer efforts at my church in Cincinnati.
BAM!
I’ll be starting February 15th. It’s just too much, really. I feel so blessed.
Throughout my life, God’s goodness has been boldly sewn into my unique tapestry. Why haven’t I ever taken notice of it? Why did it take two years in India to open my eyes to his lavish daily provision? Why did it take the hardship and suffering of billions to show me his heart? How could I even see love through such wretched affliction? How couldn’t I?
It is hard for me to put into words what I’ve learned. So, I will borrow a little something from my good friend, Saint Paul (formerly, Saul of Tarsus):
“We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers [and sisters], about the hardships we suffered in the province of [South] Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in the answer to the prayers of many.” 2 Corinthians 1:8-11
That’s it, really. I learned how to rely more on God and less on myself. I didn’t discover the answer to age old questions like, “Why is there suffering?”, or “Why can’t Indians form a queue?” I simply learned how to rely more on God. I had to. I couldn’t rely on myself, because if I did, I would be met by a rickshaw in the face.
God showed me something I was having a hard time seeing in Cincinnati. I needed to see how relying on him was better than trying to do everything myself. He picked me up and put me in a place that was filled with confusion; with a kind of physical and spiritual noise I had never experienced before. The noise was debilitating and the only thing I could do was cry out and ask for help. I had to strain my ears to hear his voice – but strain I did – and hear I did.
Letting go of control and learning how to put my weight on him; let him carry the load, resulted in two very powerful, surprisingly restful years. It’s true. His yoke is easy and his burden is light (Matthew 11:30).
Thank you, God…for carrying me, for sending me to India, for showing me the fullness of life, and for setting my next season in motion.
Jamie
Ps: It seems odd to me that I would make this last post about me when really God did much more than just change my life in the last two years…perhaps this isn’t my last post. Perhaps the last one will focus on what I saw Him do to India. Yeah. That sounds good. Till next time.
You are such an inspiration to me friend! I'm so glad you followed your heart and dreams and LIVED THEM!
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