Coffee, My Heart, the Sea, and Light

I like dark chocolate.

I love coffee. It brightens my day and compels me to worship. It's warm. It's wonderful. The stronger, the better. I love coffee.

Dark chocolate and coffee are both bitter. And I appreciate them for their bitterness. 

My heart has been more bitter than all of the dark chocolate on the continent of Europe these past few days. And I have despised it. But the bitterness has been brewing for more than these past few days.

A few weeks ago, I was e-mailing a sweet friend. I confessed my bitterness. Actually, I wrote, "I am just a cranky, bitter girl." 

My friend is so gracious. She replied with encouragement and love. She wrote, "Yes, you have feelings of bitterness, but that is not your identity. Don't claim that. You are a human struggling with bitterness, but that is not WHO you are."

Her words were a breath of fresh air. Bitterness isn't my identity. It's simply a struggle. Thanks, friend.

But it's been a long struggle. And that frustrates me. I saw bitterness in my life while I was in Ghana last year. I am thankful I saw it, but it was an image that was more disgusting to me than a broken bone protruding through skin.

Since then, bitterness has come and gone. God and I are continuing to work through it.

After a short Christmas break, my teammates and I reunited on Saturday. I was really excited to see them again. In my next post, I'll tell you why. (SPOILER ALERT: My teammates are phenomenal.)

But I was so bitter about every little thing. I didn't want to be back into our unpredictable routine. I didn't want the fast-pace life. I didn't want a new culture and language. I am blessed with all of those things right now. Yet instead of embracing such gifts with joy, I found myself resisting them with bitterness.

I talked about it with my teammates yesterday, and that conversation brought so much relief. They showed me love, patience, and grace. They prayed for me. Really, those friends are phenomenal.

And today, as I went about our business, I still struggled with bitterness. But today, my bitterness was mixed with joy. There are so many small gifts with such deep, deep beautiful greatness.

I have teammates who are reteaching me what it means to pray continually as Paul says in 1 Thessalonians 5:17.

I live near the Adriatic Sea. Water gives me life. And God sings sweet melodies to me through views like these:

Sweet, sweet melodies.

And if that wasn't enough, the weather is beautiful here right now. That means that instead of getting a headache trying to figure out all of the bus routes, I can walk between my destinations in this small city. What a blessing.

Rijeka is on the sea, but it is also near the mountains. The small red circle is Rijeka:

Because of the mountains, Rijeka has many hills. As we walk around, we can turn and catch glimpses of the sea. Hills can be so helpful in that.

Earlier today, I was walking through the city with one of my teammates. I kept turning and seeing the sea and the sun. It gave me life. It refreshed my soul. It softened my bitterness. I had joy.

And I'm clinging to joy found in small things. 

And as I keep walking through a city full of hills, I'm reminded of Jesus' words in Matthew 5:14-16:

“You are the light of the world—like a city on a hilltop that cannot be hidden. No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket. Instead, a lamp is placed on a stand, where it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father.

I may be confused as to why God would give me opportunities that I struggle to embrace and receive with bitterness. But he's reminding me that he's in control. He has a purpose. I just need to trust him. I need to find my joy in him -- not in any circumstances.

Jesus is the light. He invites me to reflect his light. And he's already shining here in Rijeka in the hills near the sea. I am blessed to be able to witness that these next few weeks. 

[My teammate Josh took a picture of Rijeka from another city the other day. I stole it so you could see it. Thanks, Josh!]

Jesus is shining here. And I am finding joy in that as I continue to fight off some lingering bitterness.