June 1st. That's the date at which point my future sort of becomes a black spot in my imagination. Spending two months in a country you've never been to is the sort of thing your brain decides is too big and simply refuses to make predictions about. All I know is that on June 1st I will get on plane and when I land in Nicaragua shortly before noon, everything will be... different.
As I spend time trying to prepare myself for this adventure, feelings of inadequacy sometimes creep in and cloud my thinking. What if no one understands my Spanish? What if I can't help people because I can't understand what they're asking for? What if my medical skills aren't enough to really do anything and I'm just a burden to the people I'm trying to help? Or to summarize a long list of fears... What if I'm not enough?
This is one of my deepest fears, the sort of question that is gnawing at the back of my mind in every new situation. It is in the voice that tells me not to try, to give up before I fail, or not to get my hopes up. "Not enough" is the reason I hide my weaknesses, struggles, and scars, rather than seeking healing in the places I need it most. "Not enough" is what keeps me with my feet planted firmly in the boat when God is calling me to step out into the waves.
I was feeling "not enough" last week when I opened my Bible to 2 Corinthians 12 and read these words: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."
You see, if there is one way God has been preparing me for the unknowns in my future it is this: instead of reassuring me that I will be enough, He has reassured me that I don't need to because He is. I am trying desperately to fill the cracks I see in myself, when in reality it is those very holes through which the light of Christ shines most brightly.
I try to hide my frailties in fear that someone will realize I am only human when I should be rejoicing that I need not be anything more. I serve a God who is so much more than human and because of that I have the freedom to fail, to struggle, to mess up and try again. I have the freedom to forget how to conjugate a verb or to ask someone to repeat themselves.
It is with this all in mind that I now choose to step out of the boat to where Christ is calling me. I'm sure I will soon find myself drowning, but I am no longer afraid. I now realize I will be drowned in grace, which is more refreshing than any air my lungs could hope to find.
