This Acorn

I watched the roofs of the houses get smaller and smaller as we climbed higher and higher into the sky. All the swimming pools looked like tiny bright blue dots in a maze of grays and browns. Soon, the ground below looked like a patchwork quilt of greens and yellows and browns. We were on the last leg of our journey, flying from Chicago to Little Rock. I stared out the window, only because it gave my eyes something to do as my mind wandered with thought. 

How do I respond to all these things?

First, another amazing trip to Burkina Faso that was filled with experiences that I sometimes cannot believe I am living: delivering a baby, spending the night in a village, seeing a village receive the gift of clean water, showing the Jesus film to a people that may have never seen it before, and worshipping with brothers and sisters across the world.

Then, the milestone of making a commitment to my team and to the Africans. A promise to return in the coming year. 

On top of all that, the overwhelming awe of my own story and how God has brought me to this place in my life. It all began as an adventurous fourth-grader dream of becoming a missionary. Then God used short term mission trips, summer internships in Nicaragua, Harding university, nursing school, a month in a Tanzanian mission hospital, a divine appointment with the matheny family at a missions conference, and a survey trip to Burkina Faso. All of these and so many more "God things" have brought me to this point in this grand lifelong adventure. 

Then there are all the anxieties and doubts. My own inadequacy. The accusation that I am throwing my life away. The fear of learning a new language and culture. The fear of loneliness. The fear of failure. 

What do I do with all this? How do I respond to all these things? 

And what in the world do I say when people ask me how my trip was? How do I explain what this bursting heart feels in the 20 seconds that they give me? 

So as my eyes stare out the window at the bright white towers of clouds, I see nothing. It's like when something hurts so bad that you can't hear, smell, or see anything else because the pain drowns it all  out. Your body can only handle so much stimuli, and in this moment my heart was taking up every ounce of it. My heart literally hurt. It felt swollen, like it was going to burst with all these thoughts and emotions. 

But here is the thing about swelling. Swelling occurs when the body has suffered an insult, and the body's immune responders rush to the scene. Yes, the swelling causes pain, but it also brings healing. 

This aching heart has suffered an "insult". My heart has been pricked by the pain, suffering, and injustice of the world. It has also been pricked with the love of Christ. It has been pricked by Burkina, and all my body's defense mechanisms are rushing to the point of attack. As my heart swells, I feel the pain, but I also know the healing has begun. My entire life has been turned upside down and all the way around because of the kingdom of God and it's power across the world. 

I love what Elisabeth Elliot wrote in Passion and Purity. "Think of the self God has given as an acorn. It is a marvelous little thing, a perfect shape, perfectly designed for its purpose, perfectly functional. Think of the grand glory of an oak tree. God's intention when he made the acorn was the oak tree. His intention for us is '...the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.' Many deaths must go into our reaching that measure, many letting-goes. When you look at the oak tree, you don't feel that the 'loss' of the acorn is a very great loss. The more you perceive God's purpose in your life, the less terrible the losses seem." 

When my heart felt so overwhelmed, that message came in perfect timing for me as well as this truth from Isaiah 58.

"and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry

    and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
    and your night will become like the noonday.
11 The Lord will guide you always;
    he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
    and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
    like a spring whose waters never fail."

What promises! I feel like such a tiny acorn, but I know God is calling an oak tree out of me. I am not yet the person he created me to be, but I feel him rising her up in me (and she speaks French!). The loss of this acorn-life is nothing compared to the glory to be gained. I can trust that God will guide me always, even in a sun-scorched land. I want to spend myself to my very end on behalf of the hungry and oppressed, and I can trust that even when it gets unbearable and I am weary, the Lord will cause my light to rise in darkness, and he will make me a fountain-spring that does not run dry.

So how do I respond to all these things? God gave me the answer in Psalm 147:1. "How good it is to praise the Lord, how pleasant and fitting to praise him." One version reads, "How befitting to praise him." Praise is befitting on the Lord; it looks good on him. We were not meant to take the praise that he deserves, and when we put it on, it does not befit is. We were made to dress him in our utmost worship, and it becomes pleasant for us and fitting on him to receive such glory. 

This trip to Burkina Faso. All these stories and experiences. The dream as a fourth-grader. The stepping stones to get to this place. The commitment I have made and all the adventures yet to come. This acorn. 

I respond to all these things with praise and adoration to our father, God Almighty, and the Lord Jesus Christ, for it is very fitting and pleasant to praise him.