Transparent feelings at the end of a very good, long day here in Nicaragua

It’s 10pm, and we’ve been up since 7am.

The sound of my alarm clock going off was so long ago, I’ve forgotten that it even happened.

It has been one of those days that feels like 3 days. Even sitting here trying to recount the day, I’m having trouble not mixing up the events from yesterday and today.

Today was a great day. It was full of absolutely bliss… no, that’s not the right word. It was full of absolutely intentional conversations that were entirely meant to be life changing in every possible way. Not bliss, intentional joy.

Today was being present.

It was living in the moment.

It was spending a few hours communicating through google translator because what I needed to hear and wanted to say was important enough for the kind of patience required to have conversations in multiple languages, when both parties only speak one.

It was the kind of day that brought me to the question I keep asking myself: can’t I just do this every day?

Being on a missions trip is like being on a spiritual high. All of my senses are heightened. All of my fears are swept away. I feel invincible and capable to do whatever it is God is leading me to do.

I can hear Him better.

I can see Him clearer.

I can feel Him stronger.

This is the moment that is going to make Sunday’s feelings feel so bad. This is the question is will push the tears down my face as I pack up and board my plane on Sunday afternoon. This is moment that will remind me to come back as soon as I can, to keep in touch as best as I can, and to share this week’s stories as much as I can.

The question: Can’t I just do this every day?

I leave here, every single time, wrestling with this very question. Why do I have to go back? I’m just getting started. I have more to do, more to say. There are more needs that I can help, more people that I can love, more children that I can serve. Why must I leave? Can’t I just do this every day?

The answer: is unclear.

Of course, I can do this every day. There are people all over the world, around every corner looking for love and needing assistance.

But not everywhere is here. And not everywhere feels like here, or sounds like here or looks like here.

I don’t hear God as well there.

I don’t see Him as clearly there.

I don’t feel Him as strongly there.

There is everywhere but here, and here is where I want to be.

As I’m feeling these things and asking these questions, I’m already telling myself to pull it together and reconcile these feelings. Be realistic. Get ahold of yourself. Stop feeling and just be. Enjoy the journey. Be here, and stop thinking about there.

Maybe, here isn’t just here.

Maybe here is just where it started. Here is where I learned how to love like Christ. Here is where I experienced supernatural healing. Here is where I watched miracles happen right before my eyes.

I wonder if here isn’t a place, but an expression or an experience of God’s presence. For years, I’ve believed I could be most useful here, but then I never stay. I’m not called to stay. I’m not called to be. I’m called back home, back there, back everywhere but here. Until of course, that moment when I am called back here.

New question: How can I get here everywhere?

I want more of this.

I want more of God’s voice, His presence, His calling. I want to experience God this strong everyday, everywhere. I want to feel His presence this strongly every single day, everywhere I go. I want that. I want it more than anything.

I want to move every time I feel the push. I want less noise and more clarity. I want less stuff and more vulnerability. I want less perfection and more authenticity. I want less of me, and more of You.

That’s the answer.