Living for His Will

So I am at McDonalds eating french fries and writing this post. Two weeks of school have passed and I have been in Japan for three months. Last night I talked to my mom about school and after wards it just kind of hit me how easy it was to talk to her. As much as my sister and I make fun of my mom that she doesn’t listen and the words, “Mommy listen!!!” and “I’m listening” have been said countless times at our household she does listen. I talked about my day and when God came He just did. It isn’t that my grandmother doesn’t listen, but it is just different. 

In English, we were given an assignment to tell a story about a “water-shed moment”, something that has impacted us and has brought us to where we are. The teacher elaborated on different type of possible stories and you know what every explanation led my thoughts to? My Restoration Story, the story that I have been freely writing about here on this blog. I am not ashamed of who I was. I used to be, but that’s the thing about the blood of Jesus. He washes away those bondages when we surrender. So my hesitation with sharing my struggle of depression and suicide rooted at the fact that some people will always do the “I am so sorry you had to go through that..” thing. I mean yes it was terrible, but notice the was. In every physical aspect, I feel alone here. I don’t have my support system. I can’t always express myself. I do get overwhelmed and I miss my family. If I was still depressed here in Japan I would be the easiest target for the devil. Although, I do think most of the people reading this are aware that there is nothing to be “sorry” about or to feel “awh, poor thing”, but I just wanted to say have a little more faith in His power. Don’t you see what He did in my life is incredible? He rescued me for His glory. So instead of feeling bad for me, Rejoice the Lord! My depression will never come back and yes I used the forbidden never because with the Creator of the Universe always and never can be backed up by Truth. So I didn’t want to share in front of people that might focus on the past more than the freedom. But I also didn’t really want to share my restoration in a devotion with my family and that was crucial to my freedom. So I decided to pray.

I felt peace into deciding that I would choose a different time to share my story. Instead I chose to share a story I have been wanting to document on this blog. I am a junior and when I started High School I was faced with a lot of questions I had no answers to. I honestly think there is some Adult Rule Book 101 that says once a teenager is in High School you should pester them with question about their future. What do you want to do? Do you know your major? Do you have any colleges you’re thinking about? I didn’t have a clue. All I knew was that ever since I was a little girl I wanted to be a mother. I could spend hours by myself playing with my stuffed animals who played the part of baby and I the mother. And all in all I still want to be a mother and play the part of the house-wife. I am a walking feminists worst nightmare. But about a year and a half ago (possibly more I actually am not sure) I met three little girls who have become unforgettable in my life. These girls were rescued from the foster care system and I had the honor to spend time with them. I found myself heart broken. I didn’t see vibrant little girls that loved effortlessly. I saw girls that had been hurt and were forced to be mature and cautious. Two of the girls were two and one was just 7 months old. Despite all their pain and circumstance with a little effort to build trust these girls showed love and innocence that should have come first nature to them. Children should be brought into this world cherished and loved. They need someone to tell them that they have a purpose and they are fearfully and wonderfully made. These girls were sweet and bright and the system failed them. They were sent to back to a family member and back to the same environment that had hurt them so.  I lost hope in this system that was supposed to give a voice to the voiceless to stand up for the innocent. I was angry and frustrated. Who was really going to stand up and represent the voice of the innocent that gets so easily lost in the stacks of laws and regulations that don’t seem to do what’s in the best interest for the child. So who? It is so blatantly obvious that it seems to pass us. The Church should. (I heard another lady speak on this issue and she brought this point to me.) The church has to stand for the voiceless. Only we know truth and have a God who has the power to break bondages and bring restoration to families. So it is with this that I have become sure of my passion as well as my purpose. I want to give a voice to the voiceless but I want to do so with the Holy name of Jesus by my side. As I am here in Japan and I see the brokenness of families I so desperately want to do something. There are still many things I don’t know. I don’t know what to major or where I will work. But I know one thing. God’s will will be done. And my only prayer can be is to be still and tune into His voice so I would know His will.

God is always good and this is just me.