Sometimes Life is Really Hard

Life is beautiful. It’s a wonderful gift and it’s filled with wondrous blessings and gifts every day like sunshine, hugs, tea, soft blankets, good books and laughter.

But let’s be real…life is hard. It hurts.

We don’t always get the perfect lives we dream of. Sometimes you just make it through with what you’ve got. One of the big things I’ve been learning here is that life doesn’t change with location. When I got on that plane to Heathrow on 29 January 2015, all of me got on that plane. Along with the ridiculous amount of luggage I brought, all my baggage made it on the plane as well. My insecurities boarded with me; my pride, my desire to please people and all the lies that I believe about myself. I thought that being “on a mission trip” would somehow boost my spiritual stamina through every roof imaginable.

LOL at that.

I want to clarify that I would not trade this opportunity for anything but this is the stinking hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’ve seen some of the most beautiful landscapes in the world, some of the most iconic landmarks, and am ultimately living proof that God doesn’t bat an eye at money. I’m living what some people would call a “dream,” but the reality of my life right now, is that it’s still life. I’ve been here almost two months. In that time, I’ve been bitter, I’ve been angry, I’ve been sad. I’ve been hurt, frustrated, joyful, excited, happy, exhausted, encouraged, discouraged, learning, working, thankful, lonely and growing. I would not trade this for anything because through all of it, I’m learning that I don’t hold my joy. I can’t do that for myself. The world won’t do that for me. If I want true joy, I have to hold everything with open hands and offer my gifts back to the giver. I have to trust that He will continue to bless when I continue to worship in every circumstance despite the circumstance.

Before I left the US, I was told that the UK was a “post christian” culture. I’ll be honest…I didn’t know what that meant. It was explained to me and in theory I could nod and say “okay, yeah, that’s cool.” But I’ve never felt like more of a foreigner. Yeah…ok that may partially because I’m a literal foreigner, but Peter wasn’t kidding when he said that we are aliens on this earth. I come from a comfy notch in the Bible Belt of Texas. It’s easy to be a Christian there. Well, as easy it can be. It’s easy to evade the hurt of the world. It’s easy to not see masses of lost hopeless people. It’s easy to focus on the lifestyle of being a church goer without really seeing the NEED for the church. It’s easy to worship and “love” Jesus without UNDERSTANDING the NEED for Jesus. It’s easy to throw around the word “love” without understanding the weight that it holds as a commandment. It’s easy to make christianity look like talks about your future husband and how much he will have a heart like David over coffee with other girls who are in the same chapter of life as you (rephrase this sentence however you would to fit being a dude). It’s comfortable and easy.

And I’m guilty of all that. I’ll admit it. Because England has been a wake up call. I knew that I had a mission in coming to England, and that it wasn’t a year long vacation. Deep down, however, I hoped that it would just be one tourist attraction after the other and telling people about Jesus while doing graphic design and taking loads of pictures. A chance to plaster my awesome Euro Adventure on Instagram for all the world to marvel at. At the end of the day, though, it’s a picture of just me in front of a building. Alone. And I think that’s a pretty good representation of how God gets my attention. He gets me alone. And then He starts to gently bring up all my insecurities kind of all at once and dealing with the hardness of my heart and my baggage and sanctifying me into something better than I could have imagined back at J&B with my medium roast with a shot of espresso. But more importantly than that, He’s showing me more and more of who He is and how He works. He’s showing me that He deserves more. He deserves glory, and He will always have it – whether or not I comply. He is glorified in this place that is aching. I can’t just speak of God in a way that is easy because He isn’t easy. He is complex. He’s powerful. He’s worthy. He is to be feared and revered.

I don’t want to throw around words that make my life sound beautiful because following Jesus means one happy day after another. My life is beautiful because I was hopeless and I’ve found hope. I see hurt, loss, anguish and despair. I see a world plagued by disease. I see people trying to find answers within themselves. I see people seeking and seeking and not finding and I want to GIVE and GIVE…but it’s not mine to give. It’s mine to share but I can’t make someone accept a gift.

I know that “consent” has been a big topic in headlines lately, and I saw an article the other day explaining consent with the analogy of “drinking tea.” Just because you offer someone tea, doesn’t mean you can force them to drink it. I’m always down for food puns, but this one is real. I meet people and I get attached to them and I love them and start to see where they struggle and how they hurt and how they deny everything but their flesh and they refuse the hope that’s sitting right in front of them. I had a lovely conversation about spirituality and religion with a girl the other day who said that she thinks it’s dumb when people say “they’re searching for the light.” She said “the light’s right in front of you…all you have to do is grab it.” Oh. Oh, how she’s right. Oh, how I wish she knew The Light. Oh, how I prayed that she would see a light and hope in Jesus. That she would see him right there in front of her. He has the hope we want. He’s ready to give it, but he won’t force us to drink it.

We have to do that part on our own.