Part 1 – the seed
Excerpts from my journal:
July 17, 2018, ‘Oh the hurting… more struggles (with our non-profit), the team trip was canceled. I’m so hurt. I don’t know what to do… but I’m here. I’m willing.
July 22, 2018, ‘Zim really has me anxious. Dealing with ‘the same issues’ again. Is this what I’m here for?
July 29, 2018, ‘What a whirlwind. What I thought would be a lifetime (with the non-profit) is over. And it ended pretty badly. What I thought was a Board meeting to discuss the issues became an interrogation and blaming of me. (Name) demanded I pledge loyalty to him and I resigned. I felt at peace with that. I said I would not pledge loyalty to any organization but only to the Kingdom, (the kids), and to seeking the truth.’
My journal continued that day, ‘I’m so thankful for the 10 years and all of the incredible relationships I made along the way! I’m so thankful. (But) this chapter is over. The story will continue.’
I spend many weekend afternoons at JoLa Café in John’s Landing. I was there only days prior to what I’m about to write about when I called my best friend and fellow Board Member Kyle and let him know what I had decided, ‘I am going to be resigning.’ We had been trying so hard to do what we felt was best for the organization but I had reached a breaking point that I never thought would happen.
I was back at JoLa on Sunday after church and I sat in my car as the whisper began, ‘I am a seed. I am a seed. I am a seed.’ I didn’t even really know what it meant but I thought it was odd having my spirit whisper something like that to me.
I had just decided the day prior that I would start my Bible Reading Plan again, which I had fallen off of. I walked into Jola as the whisper continued and I ordered a hemp latte. I sat down and opened my Bible Reading app and the next chapter I was to read was Mark 4, the Parable of the Sower and the Parable of the Seed.
Mark 4:15 ‘These in the first group are the ones along the road where the word is sown; but when they hear, Satan immediately comes and takes away the word which has been sown in them.’
I wrote down the word ‘Rest.’ I journaled, ‘If I haven’t been planted. If I’m not underground, Satan can snatch what has been sown. I need to be buried, to rest, to settle on what’s been sown. And not continue bustling to the next thing.’
I had received many phone calls in the weeks leading to and after my resignation. By many, I mean, like 6-10 hours a day of calls. I appreciated most all of them. It was a lot, but I was also thankful for all of these people who cared and who I could process with. Many asked about me starting another organization with them in Zimbabwe or about working with them in another country. I had resources and support offered to me to start my own organization. But I felt the thing I needed was to rest, to go underground, to be that seed.