It's why I do what I do

So many times I sit down at my computer with the intention of writing something for the blog. My goal is to post once a week, but you can easily see how short I’ve fallen of that plan.

I want to write to tell you of all the amazing things going on in this city… but I can’t. If you know anything about me, you understand why that is so difficult.

I’ve spent my whole life writing about the world around me, and sharing everything I can think of with anyone who will listen. But for my family’s security and for the protection of the people I work with, for now I have to just ponder those things in my heart.

So then I try to write about the general experience of living overseas, but then I think to myself, “Who cares?!?” and so I don’t write anything. After all, I’m accustomed to writing for an audience. I’m not just writing for myself. (I do that in my journal.) I want to write to move, motivate and mobilize my friends at home. I want to give you something to contemplate that might change your way of thinking. But then I end up writing something stupid like how much I love salad.

Ugh!

I just feel so out of touch with civilization. The latest technology, who won the big game, what movies are playing and what new music is out – all these things we just are not aware of anymore.

It’s been two years now that we have been living in a foreign country, and I could not have fathomed how drastically different our lives would be.

We have a saying here that goes, “The days drag on but the years are flying by.”

It’s so true. Sometimes the days here feel so long – it’s because it takes us so much more time just to accomplish a simple task. We sit in traffic. We can’t easily communicate. There’s no quick running here and there to do this or that. Yet we have blinked and two years have passed by.

I guess that could be true of life no matter where you live.

My kids are growing up. Our hair is grayer or gone. Life is moving by and the Message just feels so much more urgent.

Maybe that’s why I’m having trouble writing.

I see the lost and dying all around me and I can’t just make jokes to cover it up.

Tonight I sat with a group of friends, discussing the Word and why it’s important to share His love with others. These people had huge smiles on their faces. They were leaning forward in their chairs. They were soaking up the Good News like a dry sponge thirsty for water, and I knew that the Spirit was there.

When we began talking with Father, I was holding back tears. He’s just so good.

And that message is the most important.

More than anything else I could say.

He’s good.

He loves.

He gives.

Why don’t I talk about that more?

Why don’t you?

I guess more than anything I could say about the last two years is that I’ve drawn closer to Him. Maybe that’s why He brought me here – to eliminate the distractions that take my eyes off Him, to provide peace, to restore my joy. But then that’s all about me, isn’t it? And I don’t think that’s it.

It’s not about me.

It’s about Him.

It doesn’t mean I won’t continue posting pictures on Facebook of my favorite foods. It doesn’t mean I’m going to stop sharing about all the ignorant and humorous mistakes I make in my attempt to assimilate into this Southeast Asian culture.

I’m sure I’ll still blog about living overseas and this crazy adventure we call life.

I just pray that in everything I do, He is the reason for it all.