My spirit is vexed, unsettled
Nothing I can put my finger on
No one thing or or one persons fault.
My ageless sins and doubts are upon me.
Something is wrestling me
Tangling me up with powerful but invisible gossamer threads.
Yet nothing I can identify or speak about
Ask about or
Tell about
Its like when you walk through an invisible spider web
And try to pull it off of your face
And can't quite get a grip of it.
If I cry people will ask why am I crying
And I'll have to say I don't know.
Is it the overwhelming poverty?
Is it the overwhelming lack?
Is it the overwhelming hopelessness?
Is it the overwhelming realities?
The other missionaries don't speak about it
They laugh and talk and look overly loud.
But maybe it just seems loud
When we leave the shores of America
Compared to the quietness of
overwhelming poverty,
the quietness of overwhelming lack,
the quietness of overwhelming hopelessness
and the quietness of overwhelming realities.
A deep guttural sigh overtakes me.
Out of the corner of my eye I see something bright
Moving down the path
There are 2 of them.
A mother and a daughter, as they get closer
I see they are wearing a bright scarf, which I immediately recognize as one of my scarves from the past
Walking down the path
It has been torn in half so God could bless
A mother and her daughter
Through the power of one scarf.
They both saw me and waved, and waved and waved. As they further down the path, the daughter, turned one last time and waved again.
My spirit popped like super man ripping off his
Clark Kent disguise and my none tangible self seemed to fly into the air.
God used a seed I planted 3 years earlier
To feed me in my missionary hour of need
A peace began hugging my heart,
I felt my spirit beginning to settle.

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