As The Misty Bluebell Wood...

This is one of those blog posts that keeps on happening lately- or maybe is the only sort that ever happens. That is, it is a post created not so much for the reader's sake, but for my own. Things keep occurring that need to be analysed, and labeled, and sorted out- or perhaps just EXPRESSED- and somehow, many of them find their way here. And, that being said...
I am writing this, partly for those of you who knew that I was planning on leaving the country this summer, and will be shocked to learn that this has changed- and partly for myself, because I knew that I was leaving the country this summer- and every other summer for the next fifty years or so. Not to mention Spring and Fall and Winter! And now, my shock at the changing nature of things is equal to, if not exceeding your own!
Let's start at the beginning, shall we?
When I was at CYIA last summer, I met a Taiwanese woman. We talked a bit, and she was excited to discover that my greatest dream was to go to China- her homeland- as a missionary. We continued to see each other from time to time, and after a while she broached the possibility of taking me with her to China on one of her trips back, to help her teach English. It sounded like a fantastic plan- to spend a month in the place my heart most yearned towards, with someone fluent in the language and culture, doing the thing that I would quite possibly be doing for the rest of my life! What could be better? So, I gave an enthusiastic yes, though I expected it to be two years or so before our trip actually took place.
In December, my Chinese friend approached me and asked if I would be open to going with her to China THIS summer, for the month of July or longer.
I could probably say quite honestly that this December was one of the worst months of my life. Things got more confusing afterward, but the very newness of all the hurt, and dawning uncertainty made it nearly unbearable then.
Perhaps some pieces of a journal entry I wrote later that month sum it up best:

Dec 21, and Dec 23:
'Something has changed... and I can't go back. It's not that God's calling seems to have changed, but rather, broadened. I feel that I'm standing in the middle of a wide open space- one point from which a thousand narrow paths are radiating, and He has said that I may follow Him in any of these directions... I'm afraid of this seeming crossroad, whose inexorable answer is 'patience'. And afraid as well of myself- I dare not choose- or even take a step in either direction! I haven't the courage, or, much less, the wisdom for such staggering responsibility! I'm afraid of my own eagerness to snatch at the life I want, and afraid of learning what HE wants! But what DOES He want? If only He would thunder it from the heavens and leave no doubt!...Instead I sit here, straining to catch the phrases in His silence. Is it possible- IS IT- that I really am free to follow either path? And if so, WHICH????... What terrible in-betweenness this is! A sort of... purgatory...'

So, when my friend approached me about China this summer, I only felt more confused. My first, internal, reaction was 'Oh please- not now! Not now, of all times!' But then I was ashamed of the weakness- and of myself- and sick of the confusion. I remember sitting there thinking, while she watched me, patiently, for an answer, that here was a way out- a swift thrust of the knife- biting the bullet- no more wondering, and pacing, and pondering. Here- now- I could cross my Rubicon, and there would be no going back. Only the simplicity of a certain wound. One aches for closure after a while. I lectured: 'Sharon- here's the opportunity of a lifetime- the thing you want to do more than anything in the world! Don't be foolish! What does it matter that your current state of being is 'emotional puddle'? Things will get better- just decide, and get it over with!' So, when I turned to my fried, and said, in a strained voice, that I would love to go to China with her this summer, it was about much more than this summer only. It was a symbol. A gate I had finally found the strength to shut, and lock behind myself- or so I thought. In actuality, it was only the beginning of a very wild, and bewildering ride.
Things DID get better- for a little while. Many of the external issues which had dogged my steps in December were peacefully resolved. The tumult died down a bit. I found that I was able to feel a certain sense of excitement about the adventure of spending a summer in China. But some part of me- that part which had thrilled, and sang, and swelled to aching wonder- which I most longed to invest in prayer and anticipation for the trip seemed utterly limp and dead. Some vast portion of my heart was lifeless, detached- more joyless than I'd been in years. It didn't make sense! But I couldn't lecture myself into joy- or argue, or persuade, or harangue. Joy seemed so distant as to be entirely out of hearing. So, I bit my lip and reminded myself that emotions were irrelevant and misleading. (Which is true.) I turned back to the letter I'd written in my journal the previous January when I first began to feel drawn towards Asia, and repeated the words over and over again 'feelings have nothing to do with commitment', 'feelings have nothing to do with commitment'. The letter said, in part:

"...You and I are such transitory things against God's kingdom- in no way to be weighed beside eternity for billions enslaved by darkness. It seems to me that Jim and Elisabeth Elliot achieved something far greater with their 'brief tragedy of flesh' than any Hollywood happily ever after could have. And really, the Church and her Bridegroom are to know a happily ever after so joyful and eternal that the tears of this earth signify no more than the villain's doomed efforts to 'get the girl'!"

I wanted so desperately to be again the girl who'd written those words with such stern assurance of direction. And yet- and yet-
I couldn't shake the relentless feeling that something was wrong. And I didn't know WHAT was wrong! Logically, it should have been right, and more than right! Friends experienced in ministry had been advising me during the past year to start spending as much time overseas as possible. This was the PERFECT opportunity. I was pretty sure that the finances would fall into place, and had some money of my own saved to make support raising more feasible. It was a clear, logical, intelligent, wise, and beautifully simple plan, at least in its abstract construction. And my friend was sure to flesh out the details at the right time. So, I kept ploughing ahead with it, painting on the smile and confidence I knew I OUGHT to be feeling.

But then, one night, I was lying in bed remembering and praying for my 5 day club kids (something I don't do often enough, by the way.) And that slideshow of 'moments' began playing through my head. I could see little Elizabeth peering up at me through long lashes as she finished asking Jesus to forgive her sins- Rebecca jumping wildly as she recited a memory verse, 4 year old Christian enfolding my hands in his chubby ones and whispering 'DON'T go away- I'll miss you too much!', Evan and his small friend rolling their eyes at me when I got 'too silly', Gracie shouting 'Australia!' when we asked her what sin was, the hurt in eight year old Rachel's face when she said she hated herself, and asked why God had let her be fat, Patrick clambering in the branches of a tree, Jamal stumbling across the parking lot with slumped shoulders, his Bible clutched against his chest (one of the darkest memories), the kids at Margaret Ree's giggling at my inability to spell their names for the attendance sheet, the thrill of triumph when Eric, who has Down's syndrom began trying to do the song motions, and answered a question about the lesson correctly, 16 year old Jose asking shyly if you could come to club no matter how old you were, and, for some reason most unforgettable, the sight of little Juliano, one of my 'problem children' peeking at me from around the corner of the apartment building when we were packing up our materials. "Juliano" I called, "Aren't you going to say goodbye?" He glared, and shook his head, and I turned away- but the next moment he had catapulted himself into my arms. I spun him around in a circle, and then, laughingly, said 'I'll miss you'. But I looked down and he was crying, his tiny face scrunched into excruciating seriousness. "Why do you have to leave?" he muttered. "I hate you for leaving!" Then he tore himself loose, and one of the most ornery, unpredictable, precious seven year olds in the world ran behind the building, and out of sight...

At that point in the 'remembering', I sat bolt upright in bed, and nearly blurted out loud: 'I want to teach five day clubs this summer!'
Lying down again, with a sigh, I reminded myself 'Ah, but you're going to China this summer instead.'
I then admitted something which I had been fighting for weeks not to accept. 'I DON'T WANT TO GO TO CHINA! I want to teach clubs!'
Once it was out in the open, I was shocked. That couldn't be true! It wasn't in 'the plan'! What was wrong with me? Why did I not want the thing I wanted more than anything else? All I could say was, helplessly, 'It's just not RIGHT somehow! I need to teach clubs!'
I held out for nearly two weeks (stubborness is a virtue, right? :-D ), then tentatively broached the subject to my parents. To my relief, they were enthusiastic. My mother admitted that they had not been happy at the thought of my leaving the country this summer, but hadn't wanted to disappoint me.
So, after hovering, and arguing, and agonizing for yet another week, I emailed my friend telling her that God wanted me to be somewhere else this summer, and this wasn't the right time for me to go to China, with her, or with anyone else.
She was very supportive, and for a few days I felt relieved of a huge weight.
But now, questions have begun to set back in again. I can't seem to let well enough alone! Did I make the right decision? I was so sure, at the time. Was I guided by feeling, rather than Biblical wisdom? Could I have been wrong? How could I NOT go to China? My old friend, 'Confusion', is back, and leaving chaos in his wake.
You see, although I know I shouldn't look so far ahead, I can't help but feel that whatever is going on is about more than just this summer. I suppose I had made this summer's visit to China such a symbol of so much else I was willing to leave behind, that I can't untangle it enough for my decision to NOT GO to not seem equally symbolic and significant. But, as this just goes to show, so much can change in a year! I guess that right now, all I can do is continue to stay in the Word, focus on Christ, seek Him faithfully, do my best during what's left of the semester, and when I teach this summer with CEF, strive to teach to the heights of my ability and far, far beyond.
A quote from John Piper, which I shamelessly stole from a friend tonight after being painfully convicted by it admonishes:

“When we are trusting Christ most authentically, we are not thinking about trusting, but about Christ. When we step out of the moment to examine it, we cease what we were doing, and therefore cannot see it. My counsel for strugglers therefore is relentlessly: Look to Jesus. Look to Jesus in his word. And pray for eyes to see.” - John Piper.

So, even though I find myself increasingly struggling with two, seemingly conflicting sets of desires, and two, apparently mutually exclusive futures which both demand attention, it surely is safe to say as David did:
'All my longings lie open before you, O Lord... My times are in your hands...in your light, we see light... since you are my rock and my fortress, for the sake of your name lead and guide me... I [say] to the Lord, "You are my Lord; apart from you I have NO GOOD THING!' (Psalms 38:9,31:15, 36:9, 31:3, 16:2)

And as for next summer, and the next summer, and the summer after that- GOD KNOWS WHERE! Be it Iowa, or Czechoslovakia, Texas or Sierra Leone...

Oh- by the way, for those of you who are glancing back at the title and wondering what bluebells have to do with all of this, here is one of many marvelous poems by Amy Carmichael, which has been convicting and encouraging me lately:

'As the misty bluebell wood,
Very still and shadowy,
Does not seek for, or compel
Several word from several bell,
But lifts up her quiet blue-
So all my desire is before Thee.

For the prayers of human hearts
In the shadow of the Tree,
Various as the various flowers,
Rest at last in silent love-
Lord, all my desire is before Thee.'

Christ, teach me to 'rest at last in silent love'. 'All my desires are before Thee'. What do I have to lose?