Too Foggy to Take a Step

When I was a child,  I grew up in what was called Self supporting Institutions.    When people think of the word "Institution", they might think, I grew up in a group home or an orphanage or a mental institution or something of the sort.  Well, that couldn't be farther from the truth.  I grew up in what would be better described as, missionary outposts.  There was always a group of like minded people who worked together to bring the Gospel of Jesus to the world around them through various means, Medical work, health food work, Evangelism, and all kinds of different ways.  It was called self supporting because the workers were not paid by the church but rather we had industries such as agriculture, maple sugar shack, Health food stores, and the like to try and support the program.  Today they are more appropriately called "Supporting Ministries" because they support the cause of the church but are run by lay people. 

I actually loved living on these missions because there were always lots of people around.  I must say,  while I love my moments of peace and quiet,  I thrive on people.  And while I absolutely love living in the quiet country side (would have it no other way),  I love interacting with people on a regular basis. 

ARME Bible Camp, ASI, GYC, I love things like this too.  Crowds of people, like minded people, with a mission and a common goal, bouy me up.  It carries me forward.  I love being in a crowd, surrounded by a thousand other people smarter then myself.  I look around and see all their already established and thriving ministry ideas.  It would be so easy for me to just plug in somewhere to someone elses idea and help them.  That is what I'm pretty good at. 

I am by nature a party girl.  Being that I love to talk and laugh and tell stories, I naturally do well in helping with group situations.  The problem comes with being an idea person. 

When I went to college,  I was involved in everything outreach, everything social, and everything crowded.  I was never, ever the master mind behind any of these things though.  To this day,  I will help to decorate,  I will help to facilitate,  I will help with speeches and songs,  I will tell stories, and do missionary work but never am I the organizer.  Ask me to organize a party and I automatically shrink.  I'm scared! --------- No, honestly, I feel completely inadequate and undone inside!   It is out of my realm, my comfort zone!

Over five years ago, God graciously allowed us to move from the city to the country.  I was so relieved.  I had prayed for this and the Lord provided.  He moved us to a small community in the Northern Canada called Yukon, parallel with and East of Alaska (for those who have no idea what I'm talking about). 

We joined a small church here, (It is the only SDA church for at least 8 hours travel in any direction) and I plugged in with my ability to help out.  I help with cooking classes until that dwindled and died.  I helped with evangelistic programs until they dwindled.  I helped with social programs at Christmas and Valentines and whatever until the masterminds behind them began to peter out with other responsibilities and I felt less and less capable and less and less satisfied with our mission results.

Then one day I attended an ARME Bible camp and ASI.  I was inspired.  It has something to do with being in a crowd of prayerful, enthusiastic, mission minded people (very few, if any of them, that I talked to ever heard of where I lived, though).  I came home spiritually revived and fed and wanting to do something for God.  Only problem was,  I found myself alone in my enthusiasm.  Very alone! 

One day, in church,  I spoke with excitement.  I was sharing all about my experience at ASI and ARME.  I didn't guage my audience well though.  I mistakenly said,  "I would LOVE to put Yukon on the map in the SDA world."  It was like a zizzle went into the air.  I was immedietly taken aback.  The air could have been cut with a knife.  I paused, confused.  All was quiet for a few seconds and then I heard a low,  "It already is!" coming from one person in the audience.  I shrunk inside myself.  I had no idea that they felt threatened by my joy to make our impact bigger, broader..... I felt bad!

Still, I had a desire to work for God.  Maybe I could recruite some of my busy friends to join me.  I felt a desire to have a Bible study and prayer group.  I toyed with the idea.  I prayed about the idea.  I was scared.  Could I possibly lead in something?  I prayed and prayed and prayed and felt one day, after praying that I must not just stand in my fear, but walk forward in faith and do it.  With heart pounding,  I stood in church from my pew and announced that on Wednesday nights I would like to start a Bible study group.  Again, the air was thick and uncomfortable.  "What about Prayer Meeting then?" someone seemed a little put off.   "It must carry on!"  I replied.  I had chosen a different day so as not to interfere with the prayer meeting that was held in someones home. 

I began to realize that by doing something out of the ordinary, I was stepping on peoples toes.  I shrunk back.  I contacted our pastor and plead with him to understand.  I was not trying to run my own show.  I had an idea and just wanted to start one more avenue to reach the needs of everyone.  He told me that prayer meeting only had 3 to 5 people anyway and that I could start a group and they would shut down prayer meeting and that in his experience groups like this didn't work anyway, but I could try.   There was no encouragement there.   I wanted to cry.  This was proving to be so hard and discouraging!  I cried to God and prayed and prayed.  The Bible study group started and grew.  Soon we had 12 to 15 people on a regular basis.   It was working!  Praise God!

I felt encouraged and later thought that some health programs should be going too.  There are so many depressed people about, especially in the dark winters up here.  I asked our pastor if he would consider starting an on-going support group for people with depression.  We did depression seminars until there were not many attendees anymore but lots of the people who did come were re-attendees and I felt that perhaps a support group might be just the ticket to help them in their new way of living.  Emphasis could be on the eight laws of health, new recipies,  someone to talk to, and accountability for exercise, water, and abstenence of junk. 
"In my experience, support groups don't work!" was the reply.   No encouragement there!  Rats!

I still felt I should do it.  I prayed and prayed and with butterflies in my stomach, I made and posted advertisements up myself.  I  had found a little room free of charge down town.  The first night filled up the room which could only fit 12 to the max.  They all wanted to come back again.  And for two months before summer vacation we enjoyed a not so well organized, but a well attended little program. 

It was during this time though, that I had voiced a concern at our little church to a dear friend of mine.  Unfortunatly it was not well recieved or appreciated and when all was said and done,  I was very accused, and very alone in our little church.  I went from loving being amongst a group of friends to finding refuge under the covers of my bed.  I forced myself to attend church but I felt I was in a bubble with my family all alone.  My joy was gone.  I was so very very discouraged and now I felt angry about it too.  I begged God for mercy!  Being a missionary by myself was not my fortee'!!
 
When fall came again,  harvest was over,  days were lengthening and getting colder, and it was time to start up the Bible study group again after summer.  I was reluctant to start again and found it easy to bow out when an argument ensued between the members as to what should and shouldn't be studied.  I was not emotionally ready for the battle.  I knew the battle was not mine.  I knew I should carry on but I dropped the ball into someone elses lap. 

This year at GYC in Seattle, Washington,  my husband came along to the meetings.  It was wonderful.  They had the same effect on him as they have on me.  It was a filling up spiritually.  He was as enthusiastic as myself, probably more so.  Although, he is not a crowd person, he thoroughly enjoyed the meetings and brought back many an idea.  I was happy because I had someone now beside me who shared the same excitement. 

But,  homecoming hit me like a brick.  It was easy to be all excited to do and dare while we were not here but when I arrived home, reality hit me.  My babysitting job suddenly ended as they are moving to Australia meaning $1000 dollars less per month and less to do missionary work with.  The fridge started making a horrible racket.  My van is making a tremendous noise and is scary to drive.  The truck broke down.  My sewing business lost momentum while we were gone and I haven't been able to pick it up.  We have mission ideas but have not mentioned them to our church or pastor.  Not a peep!  I'm afraid!  The walls seem to be closing in and I found myself more discouraged then ever I have been in a very very very long time.

One day, just the other day,  I was reading my sister's blog when I saw the pictures she had posted there of her girls and their friends getting ready to do an evangelistic series of meetings.  I had toyed with the idea a lot of asking them to consider doing intense Bible work up here for a couple months or maybe finding a couple of young people who would be willing to come for a year.  I have no money though, and so I just lingered over the idea but who have I found yet of all the people I've talked to who would want to come up here.  Everyone just smiles and says "Brrr!"  and that's the end of that.

Suddenly though,  as I sat looking at the beautiful pictures of my nieces and their friends, I had this idea that for six weeks, that's all, just six weeks they could come and I could be the host.  We could put our heads together, we could pray together, we could come up with ideas together.  With a group, it could be fun, we could go beyond this community to the next and the next.  Suddenly I realized hope!  I felt happy! These were enthusiastic young people.  They had high standards, they were very spiritual, and would be very willing, I was sure!  I didn't know anyone better then this (I don't know anyone anymore at all anyway) so they were the only ones to ask.   I messaged my sister my idea.

I don't know why I didn't think about this myself.  Of course they would be booked all the way up to their eyeballs for the next year.  I didn't think of that though.  My sister didn't answer me back until later that evening and by that time I had had a wonderful day dreaming of all kinds of possibilities.  When she told me I would have to book them a year in advance,  it was like my little world fell apart.  I have never felt that discouraged in all my life so instantly.  I can't tell you how I cried and cried! 

I felt angry, yes, but not at them.  They could not have known.  Not at my sister, how could she help it?  Not at anyone.  I realized that I had no idea how to proceed, and not the courage to do it.  I am even now in a kind of fogginess.  Feeling called but unequipped.

My devotions every morning have been warning me about trials to come and being ready to face them with courage and strength from God.  And I was prepared, scared but prepared, to face negative people.  I was prepared to face more false accusations.  But, I guess I was unprepared to face discouragement from thin air.  There was no one to point to, there was just me with such a sense of "low" and of "aloneness" and "fogginess" .  I could not pick myself up.  Why I felt so absolutely down, I have no idea.  Only that I did and I cried my heart out.

I am feeling better now.  I don't know of any steps to take in any direction.  I'm just sitting up straight again.    I was reminded in my devotions again this morning that there were many a great man who without exception faced discouragement, bitter discouragement.  It talked about Martin Luther who when facing a particularly dangerous and fearful time in his life was seen in deep reflection, writing on his table top with his finger, over and over again,  "He lives,  He lives!   As if to remind himself. 

I guess I could somewhat relate to the prophet Elijah as well,  In his utmost discouragement, when he wished nothing more then to just die,  God sent an angel to feed him, talk to him and lift him up.  Did Elijah have a reason to be discouraged?  No, but he was and very much so.

I am praying for God to show me a plan of what he wants me to do even if it is alone and we don't know how.  Maybe, he doesn't want me to be a  missionary in the community.  Maybe he does.  Maybe he wants me to stay home and clean house.  Maybe he has more.  Maybe he's got me on hold, maybe I'm just in school right now and He'll  use me later.  I'm in a position right now of not knowing what the next step is.

I'm praying!!