Traffic

“You know how it feels when you just crossed six lanes of dangerous traffic – exhilaration, relief, & a bit of nervousness that you actually made it. Well, I feel like I’m standing in a torrent of traffic with about 50 lanes on either side. Something to dodge at every move, & at times near paralysis. The cars that dart by at seemingly reckless speeds are discomfort, fear, disease, bugs, filth, idol worship - & every few minutes a semi-truck with the power packed question of “Could you allow this to be your life if I asked it of you?”. Of course, I know the answer … I dare not have any answer but yes. I’m not going to lie, I don't want to spend my life in a developing country, but I DARE NOT prioritize the comforts of this world in exchange for the next. And so I stand in the middle of the insane traffic, willing myself to remember that yes, I may get hit by one or many cars, or even flattened by the semi, but that if I focus on that, I will indeed lose my mind. I MUST focus on the One who wants to hold my hand in the midst of the torrent. He can only have my hand if my arms aren’t wrapped snugly around myself … but ah, even then He can still hold me, can’t He?”

This was my journal of Nov. 23. Many, myself included, might look at it and say “A bit dramatic, Brooke, don’t you think? You’ve only been in a developing country for a week, you’re being spoiled with care and attention from your hosts, and SO many have faced SO much worse.” All true. India has struck my weaknesses and left me humbled. I can hardly express how much more I respect those who are dedicating their lives to foreign fields for our Father’s sake. With Him all things are possible. But not all things are easy. Please, think of those you know who are workers overseas – write them, call them, be on your knees for them, read books about their location/people group … just don’t forget them.