a shadow or a voice?

"It is better to live your own destiny imperfectly than to live an imitation of someone elses life with perfection"- Bhagavad Gita

No, I have not taken up some whacky Eastern religion, but this struck me with great truth. It has been one of the themes this week. How often do we find ourselves trying to imitate or be someone else? I have pretty much always marched to the beat of my own drum, but certainly admit to want to "be like" someone at times. I really feel like God is saying, BE YOU! I don't know what my destiny looks like yet, but I do want to spend my life being me and not always shadowing someone else and wanting what they have. I am seeing here that being me is good and that I do have things to bring to the table and I do have giftings and talents that are all my own and will do me well in life. We all do...

So this is becoming one of the themes of the trip, not stomach ailments, but the fact that we are all called to be a voice, not a shadow or an imitation, or anyone else, but ourselves. I just keep hearing this over and over. I keep seeing in certain ways how I am called uniquely for certain purpose. We all are. We are all given unique abilities and giftings that no one else on the planet can fulfill quite like we can. We can see it in each other. No one else listens quite like Betty Conner, no one else makes me giggle quite like Laura, no one else has more stamina and determination and can cook and make me laugh like Christine. No one else can hug like Mama Joyce. We are all walking talking amazing powerful wonderful human beings. Yes, we all have some junk and that is innate. But we were created to be US and no one else. I am finding that I have a little following of kids here. I assume most all the missionaries do, but I suddenly have my two. If you see me in Publix with two dark black faces in my race car grocery cart, you will know I smuggled them home with me. I didn't ask for them to follow me or like me or play with me, we just kinda stumbled upon each other. I listen, attempted conversation, hugged, smiled, laughed, played nonverable games, danced like a white girl to make them giggle and now we are all the best of friends. Last night I was asking God why I was even here. And he said that no one else can love them like me. Yes, many are sent to love them, but we don't all love, listen, or hug the same. I have no other choice but to see them through God's eyes, see their potential, how much He loves them and know that He created them. It seems unfair that these little beings just happened to be born into poverty and then even more tragedy strikes and they are now orphaned. So do I sit back and get mad at God on their behalf and point a finger and blame Him? To be honest, part of me wants to. It just is not fair. There is so much sickness, poverty, sin and horrific things in this world. And these kids are examples of that, beaten, starving, molested, abused. I wonder how God can release such blessings and favor over some and seemingly neglect these broken ones. But that is what faith is all about. He is my only answer. He is all I have. I can choose to believe or not believe and in choosing to believe over the past 30 something years, I have seen Him faithful in much in my life, but I have to walk it out daily, trusting in Him, and that He is good. Otherwise I will go nuts and I have no backup plan. So I am choosing to trust Him and I am loving these kids the best way I know how, spending time with them, laughing, coloring, cooking, singing. And just praying that they see goodness and kindness in me and He leaks out of me, despite my weakness, sickness and (at times) waivering faith. These people teach me all about it. If God doesn't show up, they will die. Literally. So, if they, in all their poverty with every reason to hold a grudge, trust Him and know Him to be good, then certainly so can I.

So tonight I am cooking spaghetti with the help of my little friends. We have been cutting and preparing earlier today. My stomach is an absolute mess (not sure why? say a prayer, it could be worse, counting my blessings) so I personally am not very psyched about the spaghetti, but the companionship is Heaven sent.