Spiritual battle is Real
While trying to lift myself from depression, I became an easily crying person. Even now, my eyes are sore after crying for over 30 minutes. I didn’t want to cry, so I ate a bowl of Oreo ice cream with guilt. And still, I cried. Here I am, writing again to get my emotions under control. It all started with the pastor texting me about the girl named Amingoo. Tomorrow, I’m supposed to visit his church and take a video shoot of kids, thanking the donors who gave us money to build a center.
Amingoo is a 3-year-old girl, and her name’s meaning is so precious — Living beauty. Her father went to prison almost 2 years ago, and her mother is somewhere drunk, three months pregnant too. Her mother sold their “ger” (a round house built by wood and felt) after her father went to prison. The government unit wanted to give her a pregnancy protection shot, but by that time, she was already pregnant for three months. How crazy isn’t it? Amingoo is living with relatives whose parents are also alcoholic and have four children. When the pastor visited their home, Amingoo’s belly was burned by the flame coming out from the stove. It’s not her first time being hurt after living with her relatives. Maybe she was still in danger when she used to live with her parents. After hearing all of this, I felt helpless. If someone else were me, that person would have taken action. I don’t know what the best solution is. I don’t even know a good one. And I started complaining to God, “See, this is me who is not capable of anything, and yet You still put me in this position.”
Honestly, last night I was thinking of quitting my job. Since my director is having a hard time fundraising and makes me feel like I’m not doing my job to help him or make it easier to fundraise, which is true, I thought it’s better to leave. And I dreamed about a wave that is full of sea animals, and some of those sea animals (specifically, harmless ones) were coming to the shore when I’m standing there. There were more sea animals left that haven’t come to the shore, and there was the promise that they will come to the shore when the time is right. And I woke up. When I checked my phone, my director sent us a message saying that we got $40,000 from a family for the Mercy center fundraising. We were raising $45,000 since the middle of November. As of today, $53,000 is raised. I felt like that connected to my dream. God is keeping His promise and still putting me and convincing me to stay where I am.
Replaying my last night’s dream, then how can I help Amingoo? Is it me who is the right person to help, or should I look for someone else who can help Amingoo? I know there are millions of children out there with no home, no food, no family. Yet here I’m attending Christmas and New Year’s parties and living in a warm place. This morning, I thought about suicide. Even if I commit suicide, people will continue living their lives. It is me who is running away from everything and tired of everything. Never has suicide felt this light and easier to commit.
See, anytime I’m up for something big, something that will glorify God, my mind is on the roller coaster. And the devil uses my closest people to discourage me. And I feel like this time I’m being defeated.
