Here

Some days I just want to get out of America.

    Even the average "poor" person in my country is in the top 5% of worldwide wealth. This wealth means there is enormous pressure to have certain things, wear certain clothes, go certain places, and look a certain way, to have lots of friends and a special activity that you shine at. I feel this pressure every day. I see girls around me that are prettier than I am. I see them texting a bunch of admiring guys. I see them with more Facebook friends than I have, and a LOT more profile picture likes, and it's hard not to be envious.

     I know these things aren't important. Almost every day I read Psalm 90 to remind me of how futile  human existence is-"For all our days pass away under Your wrath; we bring our years to end like a sigh. The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty, yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away." Looking back on the annals of history makes my mind spin: so many centuries have come and gone, so many billions of people have lived and loved and died. Who knows them now? Their names are almost all forgotten. One day grass will grow over me, covering my life and my memory. The people I worry so much about impressing will be gone, too. Ultimately the only way my finite existence can become of any importance is by serving the infinite God. So it doesn't really matter when I flip open my phone and there are no texts waiting for me, right? Except it's hard to align my hopelessly illogical feelings with what my head knows.

    It feels like if I could just be packed into one of those little Ugandan churches and feel the thunder of their bilingual worship roll over me, then I could finally rest in the heart of God. If I could experience their poverty and hold their dying babies and see the joy they still have because the Lord is their strength, then I could trust Him. If I didn't have to worry about the little things like mascara and cell numbers, then I could do great things for the Kingdom of Christ. Except, that's not how it works.

    I am discontent not because of where I live but because I don't really believe that God is enough. I am "prone to leave the God I love". If I run away to Uganda, my sin will chase me there. God has planted me in America, in my family, my neighborhood, my church, my city, to reach out to the people around me. Because He knows best where I can glorify Him. He knows how my tiny piece is going to fit into the grand puzzle of His plan. So HERE is where I am. It's a good place.

And you know?

God is just as much HERE as He is in Uganda. He is here in every passing face, in every Word of Scripture, in every moment. I just have to look for Him.

Where shall I go from Your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from Your presence? If I ascend to Heaven, You are there. If I make my bed in Sheol, You are there. If I take the wings of the dawn, even if I dwell in the deepest parts of the sea, even there Your hand shall reach me and Your right hand shall cover me.

 

(Psalm 139:7-10)