For many, 2020 was one of the most stressful years in living memory. For me, 2020 felt like a cake walk compared to my 2019. But 2020 was not without its challenges and as I was already feeling beat down from the trials and traumas of the previous year, I felt my tolerance for stress dwindle. With each new challenge, I felt empty and kept wondering how I would be able to keep going in my life overseas without some relief.
I ended up coming to the States for a several week visit that turned into a sabbatical in order to get some counseling and rest. One of my goals in counseling is to work through my issues of 2019 in order to return healthy and live long term overseas. This is still my desire but it’s taking longer to rest and heal than I had envisioned. One of my trials of 2019 was a depth of loneliness I have never experienced before. Yes, I was physically lonely, not having a roommate at the time, but I also felt spiritually lonely. I was in a season of spiritual attack and oppression, especially when I was at home alone. My home felt toxic and unsafe. In many ways, it felt like the Lord was distant and simultaneously that Satan was trying to take me out of the “game.” In fact, I had a dream that basically ended with Satan screaming at me to “JUST GIVE UP!”
Fast-forward to the present. I’ve been in the States about four months. I am regularly asked if I haven’t thought about just staying here. I know most people are well-meaning and want good things for me. Even so, these days, when someone asks this question, my gut reaction is some anger mixed with a desire to give them a good slap. After the initial anger, my soul deflates a bit. I have already had a long hard struggle with the enemy who desires that very thing. Every time someone suggests that I stay, it takes a bit of my resolve away when I’m already looking at a challenging return because, let’s face it, life overseas IS challenging.
But I haven’t quite understood my anger reaction until recently. My six years in Central Asia and my friends and work there has become intertwined with my life. It feels like a piece of me, my friends there have become family to me. For some who have become believers, they have been disowned by their families and I have become a surrogate sister for them. “Just staying here,” means to be divorced, if you will, from something that I have slowly begun to become one with. And as a single woman, in her late 30s, it's becoming more and more likely that my only chance to have children is to have children of a spiritual nature.
I made a commitment to my life overseas. True, I haven’t committed “til death do us part” and if and when God sees fit for me to leave, I will follow him but it is a commitment nonetheless. It is a holy calling for me and not one I should break lightly. When my married friends are struggling in their marriages or with children, my first point of advice isn’t, “have you thought about just getting out?” Why? Because marriage is a holy calling. And I think that person might just slap me. My job, as a sister, is to come alongside the couple and ask, “What do you need?” “How can I help you continue in your marriage?” "Can I babysit for you so you can have a date night?" No one wins when a marriage or family falls apart.
Likewise, I have struggled a lot over the past two years, however, I feel like many people have suggested I “get out” of the commitment rather than coming alongside of me and reminding me of my calling, that it’s worth it, and asking how they can help me seek out all other solutions to stay in the commitment.
Marriage is a holy calling. But so is the calling on my life. My calling involves the eternities of men and women. It involves seeing people pass from death to life and raising spiritual children. Leaving these things behind feels a bit like walking away from a difficult marriage or family situation and leaving someone else to deal with it.
So in your interactions with me, I would ask that you come alongside me, encourage me and ask how you can help me stay there for the long haul. Ask how you can help me persevere in my calling. Remind me that I have a holy calling.
