Remembering New Zealand

COVID-19 is giving us some time to reflect. I found this journal from my year as a 21 year-old student missionary youth worker in New Zealand in 2003-04 and started reading it. Being an SM was a radically growth-producing experience for me. The hardest and the best. I now work with volunteers and student missionaries, but even so, sometimes I don't remember the details of my journey.  I am typing this out here because it is a story of God's work in my heart and life that I need to remember right now. 

Jan. 23, 2004 [began entry, finished a few months later]

"Living Under the Cloud" - Andrew Kingston talk
Israelites were protected by God's presence. He stayed with them as a pillar of fire (to keep them warm) by night, and a pillar of cloud by day (to shade them). They knew where to go and when to move because all they had to do was watch and follow the cloud. When the Egyptians came to get them, the cloud blocked their way.

How has God shown me His presence in the last year? Have I been living under the cloud?

Initially, when plans were being formed to come to New Zealand, I watched intensely for that cloud. I prayed for God's guidance and leading in my life--to not just do what I wanted to do, but to do what God wanted me to do. And the cloud moved, and excitedly I followed. Though daily struggles got me down now and then, I knew that I was following God's leading in what I thought was the biggest step of faith I had and maybe ever would take. Time passed, and weeks before, I began to feel the fear that sometimes can accompany faith. But my faith was strong. I had no idea of what was ahead and felt incredibly inadequate. But I figured that if God had called me, as I felt that He had, to leave everything familiar and serve Him in NZ, that somehow He would provide. I knew that His grace was sufficient, and that it was my only hope in this blind leap of faith.

The journey itself held signs that this was going to be about God working through me, not about anything I could or should muster up in myself. By meeting and talking with various people on flights and in the airport, God was able to speak through me, sayin things I never would have thought of.

And then I arrived [in June]. A journey ended, a life begun. Those first few days were incredible. I began to feel the intense loss of all I had known, but I turned to Jesus as my only hope of survival. I know that God spared me, that it could have been much worse if the full realization had hit me all at once then--all of the challenges I was to face, all of the loneliness I must get through. But He helped me to remember to take it one day at a time. To start each day begging for guidance and comfort, and end each day recounting and praising Him for the blessings and miracles I'd witnessed. Those weeks were hard, but bittersweet. In my deepest sorrow I found a deeper love which lifted me up and carried me through my loneliness.

But I had plans. I asked God about the plans, and believe that He did give them to me, but perhaps it was for reasons different than mine. What started as energetic enthusiasm eventually turned into a pile of discarded ideas. Oh, I tried not to take it personally, and for awhile, I remembered that this was God's work, and He wouldn't let it fail, no matter what it looked like from my perspective. But with each meeting and call for support, however disguised they may have been, my bitterness grew, and [I] began to feel resentment toward the people God had given to work with me. Unfortunately, the resentment began to build up against God as well. Why did He bring me here to work with people who were almost completely burned out on spiritual things, and especially youth leadership? I couldn't believe that this was what He wanted me to be here for. It is only now, four months later, that I have a hunch that perhaps God sent me here because everyone was burned out. Perhaps the little things I've done, with God inspiring me, and even some of the ideas that I thought were flops, maybe they did fit into the big picture better than I thought. But then, I couldn't see it, and even forgot about it. It was to me simply a dark time for the soul, though it wasn't even to be my darkest.

Thankfully, God sent a breath of fresh air when I went to Junior/Teen Camp as a counselor [for a week in September]. Once more I saw myself completely dependent on Him, humbling myself before Him. There were hassles and challenges to be sure, but I was reminded that God was still at work in people's hearts, and that He was still using me. He reminded me again that living His life could be fun, it wasn't only about struggling. He reminded me of the fresh energy of youth, and of the burdens so much greater than mine, that many others must deal with.

A week and a half after that experience, I headed off to Australia, where I hoped to escape all of my worries and problems for the next five days. I wanted to forget that I was serving God--just for a little while. Not that I was about to go out and get drunk, but I was tired of always being tired. Not physically, but emotionally and spiritually. But God is so faithful, and even during that time, called me back so poignantly to remember His great love. In talking with Eddie Tupai [North NZ Conference leader], in Scotty Wareham [volunteer youth worker in the North Island] giving up a good portion of his day [to show me around Auckland as I waited for my flight to Sydney] so I wouldn't have to be stuck at the airport, in the conversation with a lady on the plane and the phone card she gave me. Then there was Sarah [college friend I was visiting in Australia], who gave up a vacation at the beach with her friends so that I didn't have to get lost in Sydney by myself, and in the conversations with her about my struggles, and hearing some of her struggles. And God even saved the best for last when He got me back to Nelson with $10 (that was donated) in my pocket and a story of miracles.

Still, I wasn't excited to be back where God had called me. It's much easier to try to forget the challenges when you don't have to face them. That was an intense month as well. I felt Jesus near, but I felt darkness near as well. I would cry for no reason at all. And I felt like I was fighting complacency, or at least fighting the comfort with the world's standards. The next month brought a new start. As new as it could be anyway. Unfortunately I began to sense more and more that I was pretty much on my own in leading the youth, though no one either noticed or wanted to say much about it. But God had been working on me to find a prayer partner to battle Satan's attacks. So I brought it up with someone that I felt God had placed in my mind, and she agreed. Every week we talked about the trials and triumphs in each other's lives, and lifted them up to the Lord. I looked forward to it each week, and always felt at peace afterwards.

I guess things cruised along for awhile, but something happened, and I suppose my eyes shifted off of Jesus and His power and onto myself. This was a huge mistake, perhaps a result of reacting to my situation of feeling somewhat "abandoned" in my work. Homesickness attacked with a vengeance. God seemed to be farther away, and a lot quieter than He once had been. My devotional life was more out of duty than devotion. I became confused with what God was doing. It seemed that the youth I had been praying for, struggling with, spending time and energy on them even when I didn't feel like it, they were all getting better. I saw a trust and love for Jesus blossoming in their lives, a joy radiating from their eyes. And I was jealous. How could it be that they were now full and I was now empty? Had I simply poured all of myself into them? Who was going to fill me? God used my parents at that time to minister to me in a deep way. They helped me realize that I must go back to Jesus to be refilled. To put Him first in my life again, to take all the time I needed to get real with Him again. It was such a relief to me to know that it was ok for me to feel the way I did, and to know that God cared. And I did spend time with Him--mostly reading. It did comfort me for a time, but I still could not really pray. I would try and try, but words rarely came, and when they did, the words were as dry as an old well. I asked God to renew me, to refill me, but when He didn't answer right away in the way that I wanted Him to, I grew more bitter and concerned with myself. I was so angry. I didn't really know why. Perhaps it was that I felt like God had brought me all the way across the world and abandoned me, where I now sat stuck on an island far from home. I idealized everything at home--from church, to people, to food, to even school (I never thought that would happen!) I grew to almost hate just about everything in New Zealand. I hated not knowing what I was supposed to do--forgetting that that was where I had once let God fill my agenda. I even grew to dislike people for no other reason than that they annoyed me for one reason or another. But mostly, I hated myself. I hated myself because I wasn't the person I knew God wanted me to be, or the person that I had started out as. I had a lot of issues with God. Why did He want me over here anyway? Didn't He know that I wasn't good enough? They needed someone here who was on fire for God, someone energetic--a sanguine, a leader with charisma and a bubbly personality. And that certainly wasn't me. Did God really know what He was doing?

Unfortunately for my family, they arrived [to visit for Christmas] right at my darkest, bleakest time. It was good for me, because they offered a temporary distraction from my very unwanted calling. But many times during their weeks with me, I wished that I could have given them more joy. Some days I would feel so depressed, but felt like I shouldn't be, because my family was with me. It was supposed to be the highlight of my year, what I had been waiting for  for six months. So why couldn't I be happy? I knew that nothing would change until something changed within me, and I  knew that God was the only One who could really do that. So why wasn't He? Nevertheless, God was still at work in my life, even when I didn't have much faith in Him. At Milford Sound He reminded me of beauty, and of Heaven--my ultimate goal. And through a song called "Getting into You," [Reliant K], I had a glimpse of surrendering it all to Him, and His love warmed my heart. And finally, the week before they left, God used my family to show me His love. Dad helped me work through some of my frustrations that I couldn't see around, and reminded me once again that God must take priority in my life before anything good can happen. Donnie helped me to remember to lighten up, and look for the positive side. He helped me see that I am someone special. Mom washed my feet--which said more to me than any words could express. Mimi [my grandmother] helped me remember that NZ will be over soon, so enjoy it while I'm here.

When they all left, however, I crashed once again. It was probably one of the worst weeks I had, yet the anger was gone. Amid the tears, hope was rising. I barely recognized it, and looked forward to campmeeting [locally known as Big Camp] to fulfill it.

Indeed, campmeeting was for me a spiritual rebirth. While a lot of things and people contributed to it, I think the biggest thing was the Praise Time each night. I slowly began to open my heart, and focus once again on Jesus. As I sang those songs of praise, I was finally able to truly cast my burdens on Jesus, and found a freedom and peace that was really indescribable. Also, as I listened to some of the speakers, I began to see God's purpose for my life in a whole new way. It was simply surrendering everything to Jesus at the beginning of each new day, and asking Him to fill my day with whatever was important to Him.

When I got back to Nelson and started trying it out, I was amazed to see how He could lead me to just the right place at the right time. Not every day was full of extraordinary miracles, but my life once again had purpose and meaning, which was a bigger miracle than I ever expected. When I came back, I at first translated my experience into enthusiasm and planning for the youth. Not much had really happened with them since the Christmas holidays and this was early February. Despite my optimistic planning, reality once again reared its ugly head. Though it did throw me back a bit, it wasn't overwhelming as it had been. I felt as though I had been equipped with new tools to deal with life's difficulties--basically, to keep praising God and realizing His awesome love for me. I also increased my devotional time each morning, and really saw a difference with that as well.

Towards the end of February/beginning of March, it seemed as though the whole youth program had crashed and burned. All the old disappointments, frustration, blaming creeped back into my mind, and I felt like I was a failure. Yes, I had been able to do a few nice things while I was in New Zealand, thanks to God, but the bottom line was that I hadn't achieved what I had been called to do--youth work. Everyone was either burned out, didn't care, or was mad that everyone else was burned out or didn't care. I thankfully realized that once again, I could either grow bitter, or grow better. I decided I would let go, and trust God to work it out with the youth, as well as help me find other reasons and purposes for being here. It wasn't about me and my work, but about God and His work. The cool thing was that it wasn't too long after that that a different "minority" group began taking over the youth--basically the ones who had stuck through thick and thin, and didn't want to see it die. With a little effort and motivation from them, Sabbath School at least was up and running again. And quite a few of the others started showing up again. Social events just happened naturally, with minimum planning, usually, and the turnouts were great. Basically, it was a lot better in God's control than in mine.

Another encouraging part of my journey was the week I went with a private secular school on a camp, as they call it. While I was designated as basically just a driver, God opened up many opportunities to get to know the kids. Many of them had lots of questions about church and God. It was one of the first times I have ever been surrounded and interacted with primarily non-Christians. It's amazing in such an environment the opportunities [that[ arise to simply live your light--from refusing alcohol from teachers every night to silently blessing my meals, and being as helpful as possible. Most importantly, I learned how to make friends outside of my Christian comfort zone. And when they were my friends, suddenly I felt much more of a burden for their salvation. Perhaps I could have been a stronger witness that week, but it was a learning experience nonetheless, which hopefully prepared me for future experiences.

Apparently I never quite finished the entry, but to summarize the rest of the year, it wasn't easy, but it ended well. God seemed to tie up so many loose ends--starting a small group Bible study for the "burned-out" people; baptisms for a few of the youth I'd been working with, and a lot more. I was definitely ready to go home when I left in June 2004, but I cried half the way home. God had given me such a gift of time with Him, personal growth, and beautiful friendships that year.