Returning to Reality...

I vividly remember the wild whoops that followed when David announced that we were 15 minutes away from Living Waters Village. Grimy hands exchanged hi-fives and a bunch of us at the back of the bus erupted into enthusiastic choruses (or screams, rather) of old kid songs. It was surreal as we pulled into a gigantic porch of sorts. Piercing bright lights and tall pillars beckoned as I peered out of a window. I can still see myself stepping off the dusty old bus, wide-eyed and feeling mildly wonky from the ride that had just come to an exhilarating end. After toddling about in our jelly-legs for a bit, we unloaded our things and scurried towards the main entrance to the dining hall for dinner.

Though we had been living the dream (we ate, drank and slept) for the past 12 hours, nothing pretty much prepared us for the sight that awaited us within. As someone opened the doors, I at the back, could vaguely make out a sea of gazillion unfamiliar faces returning our gazes in excited anticipation. Everything that followed after that felt like a dream. Little did we know that these tiny strangers whom we dined with that night would turn out to be the sweetest angels on earth.

Undoubtedly, the highlight of my stay in Living Waters was the time spent with the kids. Watching them go about their daily lives taught me more than I could ever imagine. Riska and Resti were one of the first, and probably the most memorable, of the many friends whom I made there. What I love so much about autiful watching her overcome her self-consciousness as she opened up to me in those few days. She’d always be the first one to spot me, throwing her slender arms round my waist and Riska is that child-like quality hidden behind her reserved, melancholic countenance. It was begoing “kakak!” As for Resti, her quiet confidence taught me a great deal. The world preaches forceful and arrogant confidence, but Resti gave me a glimpse into the kind of confidence that God advocates instead; that which is humble and gentle.

And then there were Thesa, Badol, Awang, Mondan and more. It pretty much blew my mind to know that each one of them had a story to tell. Through the love that they showed, they unknowingly taught me more than I taught them in those few days that I was there.

Over the next few days, that dreamy quality of the whole atmosphere there faded and it started dawning upon me that this was reality; a new kind of reality which I found myself getting accustomed to. It was reality with God being very much in the picture.

And there was always something new to learn with each sunny day that came along.

There was one time when I was sitting slumped against the wall with Thesa on my lap and watching the boys throw cicadas around. Seeing the grins on their faces and hearing their high-pitched chatter made me rethink the way by which I defined happiness. I had always subconsciously alluded happiness to achievement, acceptance and the like. But during the trip, it dawned upon me that real happiness is… simply where God is. It wasn’t something new, but a deep realization just hit home that day.

With every building we passed, whenever we walked on the dusty dirt roads of Living Waters, I’d always be reminded that it is a bold statement of faith; belief that isn’t poisoned by doubt, but irrational trust which God honors. It sure is comforting to know that Noahs do exist even in the present; not just for the sake of their beneficiaries but also to inspire people out there leading comfortable lives like you and I. Ronny’s testimony has taught me a great deal about trusting in God. It sure is hard to imagine how our faith in God should be like originally, especially since it has degenerated to what it is today; a tiny, unrecognizable trickle. Nevertheless, I take this as a challenge to put myself on the line and trust God more. Surely He can do more with my life than I would be able to, on my own.

There were many more other lessons that I gleaned from this trip and I trust that they would stay with me for a very long time to come. The atmosphere of love and joy there was unbelievably tangible.

Leaving Living Waters was a pretty solemn affair, with the children being unusually quiet. I hated having to tear myself away from the friendships that I had formed with the kids over that week, but there wasn’t much that I could have done about it. I should have anticipated that moment, I guess.

When I returned home the next day and stepped into my room, everything felt foreign; the clean water that gushed from my tap and the strange silence that stung the air. Scenes from the trip were still fresh in my mind.

I soon realized that keeping myself huddled up in the memory of my experiences from the trip was worthless, so I made it a point to share them, in hope that others would be, in turn, inspired to push the boundaries of their walk with God more. God has, through this, realigned many of my perspectives and developed, in me, a greater appreciation of His love. Looking back, I do feel that I should be effective wherever God places me, and not only while on a mission trip. So, that’s very much my focus for now.

I remember intending to write “Hope to see you again” in Bahasa in a note to Riska. However I mistakenly wrote “Harap berjumpa lagi”, which meant “See you again”.And so, my limited command of the beautiful language resulted in me giving my word that I would see her again instead. Henceforth, I made a resolution to keep my accidental promise someday.

Alright, who am I kidding. I’m just finding an excuse to return to reality again :) - Hannah