Never Recover from Weakness--It Is Actually a Strong Point.

Hello All,
Believe it or not, I have been sick since the last time I updated. Thankfully, today is the first day where I can confidently say that I rounded a significant corner, and I can say whole-heartedly that God healed me. Although it was never quite determined securely what I had, it was something respiratory--either bronchitis or pneumonia--and it had me the weakest I can remember being since being sick in high school. That college bout of the flu didn't even compared to this weakness. I was recuperating and improving until all of the sudden, I woke up on Monday feeling like I was going to die.

To be honest with you, as mentioned in the last post, I had reached a point of missionary exhaustion. I know that I mention this perhaps frequently (and I'm sure much more frequently than the seasoned missionary would ever need to mention), but for this newbie missionary, a year and three months into my experience, I'm still learning the rhythms of grace. I can be such a slave driver on myself, and I also have the kind of personality that just absorbs the pain, problems, stress, and tension of other people which sooner or later (if I don't learn how to continuously bring these burdens to God in my intimate relationship with Him), just wipes me out completely.

I've been working on my little apartment--little jobs like refinishing a china cabinet I was given, refinishing a dining room table set that I bought used, and painting. After a year of living here, I finally felt like I wanted to make my little dwelling a home. So, I started around October doing all of the work by myself. It's not like I don't have people around me who would help me. I do. However, I'm so independent that I typically don't want other people to do my projects for me. I like to learn by doing, and I like to stick to a job until at the end I can say that I did something (new) all by myself. It's a pride thing--there's no way around it. And, with how much I have missed having a car and having my own independence, I was enjoying (although wearing myself ragged) completing each new task without previously having had any experience in these kinds of projects (except painting walls). I was basically working every spare minute I could when I wasn't going to 21, Yuscaran, or training for a camp I'm going to be a counselor for in January. To be honest, in the past two or three months, I haven't given myself too many days off to just rest. This shouldn't be that big of a deal except that I also wasn't giving myself the chance to rest spiritually. I was reading my Bible and talking to God like always, but when you're surrounded by such spiritual darkness as one experiences in 21 and in this country in general, it's really not an option to avoid some serious time to get away with God. You simply won't last as I have clearly learned from this experience. I knew that I needed to take some time to really dedicate to being restored by God, but I have such a one-track mind sometimes and get so focused on completing tasks that I was pushing that need to the back of my mind, thinking, "I'm so close to being finished. If I can just finish my house projects, I'll have tons of time to be still with God." I just wanted to finish by Christmas. Wrong mentality.

So, with the holidays approaching, I was getting rather homesick, with the 21 boys--while I adore them all--I was getting worn out emotionally, and with how busy everyone in the ministry is around this time of the year, I was feeling very invisible. It's easy to get lost in the cracks here especially for someone who tends to be introverted and withdrawn anyway. There is no doubt in my mind that we need fellowship with other believers, but the kind of genuine relationships and fellowship I think we need isn't often something that gets fulfilled during church services where you sit beside the same people and utter a "God bless you" and give a handshake. Thankfully, God provided me with great people here like Hermano Nati and Hermana Martha and Raúl and his family who provide me with that fellowship I so need. I think it's easy sometimes for people to assume that when you become a missionary that you stop being a human being. This is never the case. We missionaries struggle to remember that we're loved and to keep the face of Jesus ever before us just like any other Christian. We're not superheroes. But, people can't read our minds either, so we can't always expect that people know our needs when we're not transparently saying them.

It has always been difficult for me to ask for help, but God has no doubt been breaking me of that little by little in the year plus that I've lived here. Without having a car, with being in a new culture, etc., it's impossible for me to even pretend to be self-sufficient. Thus, I've had to start learning how to depend on others and ask for help. It is still not easy for me.

This week that I've been sick, I've never been so thankful for Raúl before. He was the one who took me to the doctor (the first time). He was the person who took me to my nebulizer treatments. He was the person who took me to the pharmacy for medicine. After spending days and days alone in my apartment, he was the one who took me home with him and Estiven and Giselle and Bladimir just because he knew I was lonely. When I woke up Monday, I was so weak that I thought I was terribly dehydrated. Walking across the room to get a drink of water left my heart pounding, my hands shaking, breathing heavily, hot, and and with a massive headache like I was going to pass out. I was so hungry, but I was so nauseous that I'd start to eat a couple of bites and then feel sick. So, I just wasn't eating. That had been the case to a point for a lot of my illness up until Monday. I felt too weak to make myself any food, and because I live alone and Raúl works during the day, I didn't have anyone to take care of me. I, of course, wasn't asking anyone else to take care of me either, so I can't blame anyone for a situation where I didn't open my mouth.

On Monday morning, I laid on my couch just weak and exhausted and terrified that I was going to have to go to the hospital to be hooked up to IVs if someone didn't help me. So, I called Raúl crying, and he came to my rescue, bringing me juice and saltine crackers and the electrolyte solution they give to people who are severly dehydrated. After all day of doing nothing but drinking, trying to eat, and sleeping, sleeping, sleeping, around 5 PM, I felt better. But, the next morning, I woke up with the same level of weakness and would have to call Raúl to replenish my supply of juice, electrolyte solution, and saltine crackers. And he has taken care of me like that every day this week, bringing me what I needed in the mornings, and bringing people to visit me in the evenings so I wouldn't feel so lonely. Nelly also took me to a clinic (my second doctor visit) and has made me soup the past couple of days, but it was Raúl in those desperate days who answered my tearful prayers to God. I wasn't just physically shot, I was also emotionally hurting and spiritually weary. I felt forgotten although not forgotten by God. Monday morning, I prayed with tears streaming down my face, "God, please send me someone to love me back to life." And He did--in Raúl. He checked on me, responded to my every need, and never complained or made me feel like a burden. And, the nights when he surprised me with visits, I had been crying in bed feeling so lonely and so forgotten before he showed up at my doorstep with a group of people in tow.

I caught him one day as he was headed out my door because I wanted him to know how much I admire him. You see, Raúl's had a rough year--a rough couple of years really. He's been recuperating from a lot of severe hurts and betrayals that occurred right before I moved here (and have continued since I've lived here). And in his recuperation process, he started out running to God through broken and has since struggled not to want to run away from Him. I know that he loves God. It's so obvious in his actions and in his sincere prayers and even in his response to times of worship (when he lets himself be in those situations), but he's struggled to feel like he's enough. He's struggled to come to God as he is because what he sees in himself isn't some spiritual giant with tons of unshakeable faith that God loves him. But in the midst of his difficulties, one thing that has never changed about Raúl in the time that I've known him is that he has never stopped living the gospel. To me, the gospel is very simple. It is found in Matthew 25:31 and on. It is stopping for the one person in front of you. It is, "I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink. I was sick, and you looked after me. I was in prison, and you visited me." And, Raúl embodies this simple gospel, and he does so quietly, never drawing attention to himself, in such a way that if you weren't really observing him, you'd miss it. But when a neighbor doesn't have any milk to give her baby, who is there with milk in hand? Raúl. When Orlin comes by the business and hasn't eaten all day, who gives him his own lunch? Raúl. When Bladimir finds himself homeless after he has stolen and betrayed every neighbor within a who-knows-how-many-miles radius, who gives him a place to stay? Raúl. When I'm sick and am too weak to buy groceries and so lonely I feel like I may never stop crying, who looks after me? Raúl. I learn from his mercy and his kindness every day.

It can be very difficult to be a single missionary. It can be very difficult to be away from your family. It can be very difficult to feel like you have no one looking after you. It can be very difficult to have no one to come home to, to listen to your stories, or to worry about where you are enough to call and check up on you often. It can be very difficult to be so sick and so far from your mother who's a nurse who has spoiled you throughout life with nurturing treatment--if I recall, we kids used to get a bell to ring to summon my mother whenever we needed her when we were sick growing up. But, God has a purpose in all things, and even though it's difficult, it's still always worth it.

In these days, my heart has just exploded with new compassion. In feeling so invisible, I began to realize why my boys act the way that they do. When you feel invisible, if you don't have God, the desire to run into the darkness just to see if someone loves you enough to chase after you to rescue you can sometimes be unbearable. It's no wonder that they spend their days on the streets or turn to gangs or drugs. There is a deficit of love in their homes. There is a deficit of attention in their hearts. They want to be convinced they're loved, and when no one comes to rescue them, they become convinced that they're not worth anything. In being so sick and so alone, my heart just broke for those who have never had someone to love them back to life. There are beloved people--who God made and Jesus died for--who have never had someone to care for them when they're sick. There are children who have never had a parent to care whether they even live or die. There are lots of human beings on this planet who have no one looking after them, keeping them company, or asking them about their stories. And, I happen to live in a country where a lot of them live, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I have had the tiniest taste of what that must feel like. And, it's devastating. And yet, after days of being in bed all alone, I've never felt so inspired to go be Jesus to those who feel that deepest of lonelinesses. I've never felt such a huge wave of love for the sick and the dying. I've never felt to this degree before such an intense longing to love others back to life.

I thought that this was the only lesson God had for me in this illness. Thus, before Monday, I thought I'd learned what I needed to and was ready to be well and get moving again. I missed my boys so much since it had been so long since I'd seen them. (I get to see them tomorrow, though, God-permitting! I am ecstatic!) But, God wasn't done teaching me yet which is why the weakness came on Monday. The truth of the matter is that while I'm not someone who is going to run to the safety of the States and my family every time I get lonely or sick or am struggling, I do tend to be emotionally delicate. I can only handle so many burdens and so many attacks from the enemy telling me that I'm all alone before that emotional strain shows up physically in my body. And that heartbreak usually translates to not being able to eat--trying to eat, being hungry, but three bites in, feeling like I can't keep down food. It's like my insides are tied up in knots just like my emotions. It is rare that I reach this level of pain and struggle, but when I do, it can last and last until God beckons me to Him, steps in, and heals me. During this illness, the scripture that kept popping up was Isaiah 55:
Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost. Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare. Give ear and come to me; hear me, that your soul may live. The rest of the chapter is also very good.

You see, God sent me Raúl to teach me how to depend on others and to see that there are people who do care about me here. But, He also wanted to teach me that at the end of the day, whether I have someone to love on me or look after me or not, He has to be my ultimate dependency. He is my First Love. When He's asking me to eat and drink, He wants me to eat and drink of Him and not wait for the love of another human being to fill me up--because that, quite simply, isn't going to happen. I can sit around all day feeling lonely and crying and asking God to send me a friend, or I can wake up and recognize that He is my Best Friend. And His love is the richest fare. And only He can make my soul live. So, after days of consulting with my mother and making her worry terribly and worrying myself about why I was still so weak and not getting better, I finally came to my senses yesterday. And, I finally asked God, "Why am I still sick? What is it that I'm still needing to learn? You have my attention. I am listening." And I started listening to a three-hour-long Heidi Baker podcast. She covered so much in that message, but much of what she talked about was from John 15--
I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. . . . Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. . . . If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. . . . If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you. . . . As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. . . . I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends . . . You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit--fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. This is my command: Love each other.
I don't always know what it looks like in a practical sense to remain in Him. I don't always recognize the ways that God wants to prune me. I don't always do what is necessary to remain in His love. And a lot of times, I'm afraid to ask for even the desires that God has placed in my heart because there is still a part of me that has a skewed perspective of God. I forget that He is my friend and that He hands me a cup of His suffering AND His joy. So, sometimes, I feel like I'm fighting with Him over the very desires He's placed in my own heart. But listening to that message was exactly what I needed because she addressed all of this. And, at the end of the message where she was speaking to a group of YWAM missionaries, she just had a time of prayer and calling for God to restore these missionaries and help them to taste His sweetness and have the bravery to ask for the nations and the desires and big dreams He's placed in their hearts. In those moments, I felt like God was healing me, pruning away my weariness and my doubt in His goodness and reminding me that He is enough. Christ in me, the hope of glory. Greater is He who is in me than He who is in the world. He died that there would always be enough--even when I feel like I'm not enough. After finishing the message, I pulled out my guitar and just began to worship with shaky hands and raspy voice until Raúl showed up at my door. I had so needed to eat and drink of Him.

And, He healed me. I fully believe that in those moments, He healed me. This morning, I woke up so hungry and still rather weak but with more strength than I'd had all this week. But, the nausea was gone. The eating a few bites and feeling too weak to continue was over. I was free, and as soon as I was able to eat and get some sugar in my bloodstream, I was perfectly fine. No medicine cured me. No doctor told me what was ailing me. I was just a branch that had forgotten the need to be in the vine. I was in need of a drink of His joy, and I was in need of a reminder that apart from Him, I can do nothing. I was in need of a date with my Best Friend.

I can't help but be thankful for every time He lets me get sick because it always ends up being an invitation to greater compassion and spiritual restoration. I so appreciate the prayers of all who have been lifting me up, and I am so grateful for all of the people here who showed me Jesus' love through their actions.

This year is coming to a close, but I am excited because it's not over yet. God is capable of doing so much in such little time--if I have learned nothing else in living here it is definitely that. I am on His perfect time table, and I'm blessed beyond words that in sickness and in health, in discouragement and in passion, in loneliness and company, it is never too late to enter His presence to be restored. His grace is sufficient. His power works best in our weaknesses.

All my love,
Sarah