Where I belong. . .

Where do I belong? Isn't that the question of every age, every generation, and every heart? How often have we grieved over our purpose and place in this world? The earth is vast and there is much to see and do, many people and cultures to experience. I've been blessed to see portions of different lands and cultures over the years. It drives a hunger to see more, to do more. If you'll permit a moment of fantasy, I dream of traveling creation from mountaintop to mountaintop, valley to valley, river to desert for glimpses of God's movement in His Kingdom so that I may share the story of God with the world. Romantic, isn't it? This is the way of dreams--they can birth passion as well as sorrow. But I tell you the truth, if such a dream were to become reality, heartache, pain, and agony would surely follow. Why? Because the world is not romantic. It is hard and trying and the need is great. Can the human heart alone carry the burden of the world? Can it alone carry the burden of a people group unexposed to the Gospel? Can it alone carry the burden of one? This I cannot answer. We know from God that the harvest is great and the workers are few. So where do I belong with such a dream?

In the last month that I've lived in Nepal, I've witnessed the overwhelming need of this nation and these people comprised of several different religious backgrounds and cultures. This is just one country, one country that surrounds 8 of the world's 10 highest peaks. What better place to fill my romantic notion of chasing God! The summits are high, the valleys are low, the rivers are full, and the desert is dry. Within these boundaries, people are crying. They are starving and they are dying, both spiritually and physically. Who will go? This is only one country. Can my heart carry the burden of Nepal?

I could wonder and dream about my place here. Is God calling me to this foreign land? Will it be difficult to return to the States? Will I miss it here? Will I forget? Will I long for this place? There is sometimes angst in dreaming. Of all the far off lands that I have visited, of all the wondrous and grueling sights and experiences, of all that I have witnessed in this life, and of all that I want to do and have yet to do, I rejoice because I do not wonder where I belong. I hold to one truth. You see, my dear friends, purpose is not found in a place. Identifying where we belong will not pacify the relentless search for belonging. The question we must ask is not where, not even why, but who. To whom do we belong? If we know Him, it matters not where we lie our heads or how hard our fingers work. What matters is His presence in our lives. I do not belong to Nepal (nor does it belong to me). I belong in the presence of God: His hand wrapped around mine, in the warmth of His embrace, with the gentle whisper of His voice. He may one day bring me to Nepal and I pray that He does, but it is not the country or the people that I seek. It is God. In Him, I am free and in Him, I belong.