I broke.

OK, the last 4 days have been an emotional roller coaster. Where to begin? Oh wait...you already know some of my saga so that makes it easier. With all that in mind...

I came back from Mairowa with the team of teenagers on Thursday. I've really enjoyed it when the teams come in to town because I feel like I am part of something when they are here; I feel as though I have a purpose, a raison d'etre.

Honest moment. When the teams aren't here, I don't feel like part of anything. I feel like one person who is in a foreign country with nothing that is familiar (emotionally). I've been struggling emotionally to feel a part of the ministry organization here in Tanzania. For a myriad of reasons, I haven't felt as though I have been invited to become part of them. This was made very apparent on Friday.

Every day, the ministry team does morning devotions. As there have been many teams in town over the last month, I've only been into the office about 6 days. Friday morning, Julia, Jenny and myself join the team for devotions. At the end of devotions, one of the men from the team went around the room and asked each person, by name, to prayer for a specific area of the ministry. When he came to me, he asked what my name was and thanked me for being a guest.

Already struggling to feel part of a team, having someone ask my name after I have been living here and working here for over a month made it all the more apparent that no, I was not a part of the team. The snippy side of me wanted to respond "Jina langu ni ErinStacy. Ninaishi Arusha na mimi ninafanya kazi Imara" Translation: my name is Erinstacy, I live in Arusha and I work at IMARA idiot. But, realizing that putting this man to shame for not knowing who I was was a cultural no-no, I just replied "Erin" and left it at that. About 2 minutes later, I left and cried.

I am learning so many things about myself and my faith. I learned on Friday that my identity here is not a member of the Imara Ministry Foundation team; it is a follower of Christ and that at no point should I even place more desire, emphasis, or belonging to any group more than Christ. I learned that I may never be a part of anything here and that that really doesn't matter at all. I learned (or was reminded) that God didn't necessarily "call me" to Africa to be part of a team to reach Africans with the Gospel. He called me to come here and focus my relationship and life on Him.

I learned that I am sick of myself. How God manages to listen to my sickly prayers is beyond me. I've learned that I need to be in intercession for others; not make petitions for myself and to help me "get though" this. I am not "suffering" for Christ. There is no "suffering" for Christ. The atonement, Christ's death, the royal priesthood that I am a part of: this is a privilege. I should approach is with joy that is beyond describable. I don't want to count my trials as suffering, I want to count them as joys.

I learned that my attitude can really rot. If I truly believe that God's ways are higher than mine; that His paths and His knowledge is above mine; that He will only do what is best for me, then I had better make an attitudinal adjustment and start praising Him for these gifts that I don't think that I want but that He is trying to give me to bring me to a deeper place with Him.

So many other things too! It is sort of like "A thousand and one Arabian nights"...you have to keep coming back to get the rest of the story.