In my journal on 7/9/15, I wrote:

If you have nothing good to say, than your nothingness is
your true poverty.

I used to average 2 blog posts per month.  But in the last three and a half months
combined, I’ve written only one.  My
absence of words and posts is not due to my busyness nor the lack of topics to
write about; rather, it’s a reflection of my spiritual desert, my dried up
emotions, and heavy feet.  Usually
writing is my therapy, but any time I thought of writing a blog, it upset me.  I felt as if there was “nothing good to
say.”  Of course, I could have pretended
in writing like I do too often face to face, but in my writing, I can only be
true to my spirit.  So, as the saying
goes, if you having nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.  As I was contemplating this one day, the
voice inside my head said: “If you have nothing good to say, than your
nothingness is your true poverty.” 
Negativity is the source of an impoverished spirit.  I never thought I’d say I was poor, but
lately, God has been showing me just how poor I really am. 

The week before I left the States to return to Swazi, I
spoke briefly with Fr. James after mass. 
I burst into unwanted tears and blustered, “We are supposed to be the
joy of the Gospel, but all I can see is the pain.  I’ve lost all joy in this ministry.”

What’s wrong with
me?  I wondered.  Why do
I feel so miserable?  Daily.  Every day is a different battle, but I never
thought I’d have to battle myself
daily.  I acknowledge the devil’s tactics
of warfare and trying to steal, kill, and destroy me (John 10:10), but I wasn’t
prepared for him to turn me into my own enemy. 
No matter what, no matter how great things were going, there was always
something negative to follow.  Always
something that made me groan from the inside out, getting more and more annoyed
and irritated with life here… and myself. 
 I’ve never felt so unhappy,
unfulfilled, dissatisfied.  Never.

The weird thing is, I’ve also never felt God so
active.  I can sense His army around me,
I can hear the Holy Spirit whispering and encouraging, I can see Him in the
people around me.  I do not feel
separated from God, but I feel an inner anguish I cannot fully explain.  I feel that I’ve been sliced from Joy.  As if Joy was carved out of me and left me
bleeding. 

And I’ve held it all in for too long.  Recently, I spilled everything to my mom in
an email:

“Sometimes I dread going back to the girls home after a
night away.  I see these beautiful
daughters only as burdens now, and it kills me. 
I want my joy back but I don’t know how. 
Every day is different, but somehow it wears me down.  There are blessings everywhere, but all I can
see are frustrations, irritations, weakness, and nothingness.  God is being so active in my life right now,
but still I am depleted.  I am
unhappy.  No matter what.  I’ve wondered that maybe this is God’s way of
saying I’m not supposed to be here.  I’ve
doubted myself in being able to withstand. 
But I also know that no other place would make me “happier,” maybe for a
few moments, but not for long.  I know
that if I were to leave this calling and ministry, even for something good, I
would still suffer, I would still be unhappy. 
Because it is something within
me.  It is not based on my physical
suffering, my sacrifice of material objects or comforts, or even leaving
relationships behind; it is something within me that causes me to suffer.  We are called to take up our crosses, yes,
but we are supposed to do it without complaining, without dwelling on the pain
and darkness, but that’s what I’m doing. 
I desperately want joy again, not just for a moment, not just for a day,
I want it consistently.  I’ve never in my
life felt this way before… It’s an inner anguish I know not how to explain, nor
do I know how to get rid of it.”

I also shared my struggles with a few friends, and one
who directed an orphanage in Peru for several years offered me some incredible
encouragement and advice:

“First off, you are not alone.  That is one of the devil’s favorite tricks…to
wear us down and convince us of these three things:  1) We are in this alone.  2) Our suffering will bring no merit.  3) It’s our fault we feel this way.”

It rocked me to read how spot on she was.  Indeed, I had been feeling a gravity of
loneliness, even though I’ve felt very
supported.  In my inner anguish I got
frustrated, wondering why I was struggling and it made me bitter feeling like
it was for no reason and as she stated would “bring no merit.”  And lastly, I was heavily upset with
myself.  “I shouldn’t be feeling this way.  What’s wrong with me?  If God called me here, I should be
happy.  What am I doing wrong?  Why am I so weak?  I can’t do this…” and the more I focused on
my sin and failures, the angrier at myself I became. 

The thief had stolen my joy, killed my words, and
destroyed my view of self.  But this will
not remain so.  

I can choose to remain in this poverty, or I can choose
to choose joy despite the negativity.  I
thought about deciding to never write anything negative in these blog posts
again.  And that’s why I haven’t
written.  But then a quote from a very
wise woman echoed in my head, “The problem is with a lack of brokenness.  You must pray to stay broken.”  Now, being
broken and being negative are two very different things.  I don’t want to be negative anymore, but I
must remain true to the brokenness and vulnerability God asks of us. 

So, I must promise this to you, as my blog readers, my
supporters, my encouragers, my army: I promise to write more often.  I promise that I will find something good to
say, no matter how I’m feeling, but I also promise to remain real and let you
know really how I’m feeling.   If I
don’t promise you this now, if I don’t write this publicly, my nothingness will
continue to be my poverty. 

So, you can look forward to the next week of many blog
updates…because, really, I have SO much to say about the glories of God in this
beautiful, broken, learning-how-to-truly-die-to-self daily life.  Emotional, real, joyful moments coming your
way.  Until then… pray that I stay humble
and broken, admitting defeat and leaning on God to carry me.