a matter of contentment

This afternoon finds me sitting at McConn, the coffee shop here at school, actually having some time to relax, read, and write. Occasionally I will reread through the journal I kept while in Kenya, and today I brought it with me to look through. Being there was a solid four month period that God used tremendously to take me deeper in my knowledge of Him and show me how desperately incapable I am of anything on my own. Even though time is distancing me from the experience of living there, I still love revisiting the memories and reading how God was working on me then. Often it either lines up with something else I am learning now, or smacks me upside the head with an "aha" moment.

On September 20th, 2009, I journaled some excerpts from Elisabeth Eliot's book, "These Strange Ashes," an account she tells of her first year as a single missionary woman in Ecuador. I remember writing all this down while sitting outside at the Mara Safari Club, one of our last destinations before Mom and Dad left to go back to the U.S. 

At this point in the book Eliot was referencing a prayer of Betty Scott Stam, something Stam had written just a few years before her and husband's martyrdom in China. 

"Lord, I give up all my own plans and purposes, all my own desires and hopes, and accept thy will for my life. I give myself, my life, my all, utterly to thee, to be thine forever. Fill me and seal me with thy Holy Spirit, use me as thou wilt, send me where thou wilt, work out thy whole will in my life at any cost, now and forever." (Betty Stam) 

then Elisabeth Eliot adds,

"I had never forgotten the picture on the front page of our newspaper of the Stam's baby daughter being carried in a rice basket by a Chinese woman who had found her after her parents' execution...It was a long time before I came to the realization that it is in our acceptance of what is given that God gives Himself." 

Eliot adds another quote she prayed when waiting for Jim,

"And shall I pray thee change thy will, Father, until it be according to mine? But no, Lord, no, that never shall be, rather I pray thee blend my human will with thine. I pray thee hush the hurrying, eager longing, I pray thee soothe the pangs of keen desire, see in my quiet places wishes thronging, Forbid them, Lord, purge, though it be with fire." 

Gosh, I want to follow the examples of these remarkable women of God. The beauty of their characters, selflessness of living, and integrity inspires me. 

I'll be honest though and say that this is quite a load for me to read. My heart resonates so strongly with these prayers, but as I reread them a weight presses upon my heart, one that reminds me of the intensity of these utterances. I know I would readily say the same things, but at the same time my eyes open to seeing the parts in me that need to be surrendered, trusting, and content. As I read it's as if God said, "Here, Mary, remember? This is where you need to readjust your focus. Remain in me, be content, beloved."

I suppose this afternoon has been rather sobering, in a good way. I would rather be challenged in seeing things in me as they are rather than remain in a stagnant oblivion with no growth.

I'm so thankful I stumbled upon these few pages of my journal. For what's been going on in my mind lately, it's perfect timing. 

"And shall I pray thee change thy will, Father, until it be according to mine? But no, Lord, no, whatever shall be, rather I pray thee blend my human will with thine." ~ Elisabeth Eliot