The Why Question

I feel like I have a capacity for great light, but it feels accompanied by a deep darkness

  

When I tell people what I’m doing for the next two years, they usually ask “Why?”
It’s a good question. Not many people choose to leave the comfort of home and enter into the unknown: culture shock, a new job, foreign language and a volunteer lifestyle. But I never really understood the why question. Oftentimes my discernment process to enter the Jesuit Volunteer Corps actually felt painfully obvious. I identify so closely with the values of the program (social justice, simple living, spirituality and community) so closely that it felt as if they were a part of my being. Therefore, this seemed like the best way I could offer my gifts to the service of God. Obviously this would be how I could come to know God, the poor and myself. These seemed like important things to get to know better. I felt sure. Better yet, I felt called, a deep conviction to live life as an international JV for two years.

Then comes the follow-up question, “But aren’t there people closer to home you can serve?”

This question too was understandable but unwavering for me. I never saw a difference between people close to home and people here in Tacna. People are people, and there is one human family. Simply because some people are closer to me in location does not mean that they take precedence over others. God gave me the gifts and the desire to serve people’s needs here in Tacna. Therefore, those are Her children I will accompany right now. 

Three weeks into the JV life, I finally understand the why question. This is because I now ask myself “why” every single day. It didn’t hit me- the doubts- until I boarded the plane. Since opening the gates, the doubts have flooded in; they invade my spirit.  It took me a while, but I finally settled into post-grad life at home.  And I grew to love and appreciate my home community more than ever. That great community of support, of loving family and friends, waiting for me a plane ride away makes doubtful times feel treacherous. If I can serve God and others closer to home and- better yet- also serve my family and friends, why am I not doing that?
God, why am I doing this?   

Even more dangerous- what is so wrong with me that I need to go so far for so long in order to encounter (God, the poor, myself)?

The invaders exhaust me- more than the language and the newness of everything. Throughout the internal confrontations, the ups and down, there is this small, peaceful part of myself. This part, which I often choose not to listen to, is enough to help me pray for hope. I hope for greater faith- in God and in myself. I pray for the patient trust to listen to this part of myself. This peace must be Grace because it certainly does not come from me. (This extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. 2 Corinthian 4:7) With this light comes the responsibility to allow myself to be a ray- to let God’s light shine through me. When two years feels too extraordinary, I am thankful for God’s sustaining power. God’s grace would never take me to a place it could not sustain me. I hope I can believe in the slow work of God enough to allow for so much light that there can’t even be shadows of doubt (much less darkness).