Bittersweet—on longing and light

The sun was climbing out of bed on the continent of South America as my earbuds delivered these words:

"Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.” Mark 1:35 NIV

My reflex was an audible "yes" with a fist grab right there in the hotel bathroom, followed by a bashful giggle as I told my husband.

Long ministry days, which excluded even the opportunity for a full night of sleep, were wearing on my introverted nature.

I passed by the breakfast buffet, wrapped some cheese, sausage, and pastries into a napkin, and balanced a coffee in the other hand as I ran for one of the four tour buses about to depart for the twenty-minute drive to the campus.

Igreja Da Cidade in São José Dos Campos

Despite wearing earplugs to dampen the incredible hour-long worship sets and powerful speakers, my brain and body felt simultaneously overloaded and depleted as day four of the ministry portion of our Brazil trip began.

I needed space to process…

I was on a prayer ministry team of 150 amazing people from around the world and it was up to us to take breaks, as needed, throughout the conference, where we ministered to 9000 people!

Global Awakening’s ministry team

Wanting to take it all in and not miss anything, I hadn't taken any downtime yet.

But early that evening I bowed out of a session and went for a walk, reassured by my husband and my Bible reading that Jesus was moved by compassion to minister but He also retreated.

I'm not a photographer but as I journeyed around the campus, talking to God and capturing serene images, my body and mind began to unwind.

I followed the large outline of the property, watching from a hill as the horizon changed into yellow and then pink pajamas before saying goodnight.

I knew these intense ministry days would be juxtaposed with days to rest and reflect, but in days of running hard it is paramount we still find time to tuck ourselves away on top of a mountain, under a blanket, in a tree—anywhere where we can recharge.

After my slow-paced walk, I found myself in a dimly lit room, set aside for us to take breaks. As I laid back on one of the many white couches I tried not to drown in a torrent of tears.

Our team had been praying for inner and physical healing for thousands and God was at work in mighty ways! We were seeing physical miracles and heart surgeries but I was a wounded warrior.

It was my turn for more healing…

Grief is like a newborn, it can't go long without attention. I could feel my soul caving in.

I needed to share my struggle with someone.

I tried calling a friend on WhatsApp. No answer. Just then a lady I knew from my bus and my sub-team entered.

As I bared my soul, she was a conduit for God's love and healing.

Jesus began to free and equip me.

(I may share more on this, as the fruit grows, but it was a beautiful, supernatural time.)

Like me, many of our team received healing in Christ while ministering to others during the conference.

Since returning from Brazil I am longing to live in and from that secret place.

In When Strivings Cease, Ruth Chou Simons says:

The weekend after we returned from this life-changing, two-week adventure, I was hosting the first-ever Canadian Gather 'Round retreat at my church.

The speaker, Rebecca Spooner, shared how God gave her a picture for this season: a leaf in the wind, resting and working as the Spirit moves.

This affirmed my heart's desire and new-found posture, to rely on the Holy Spirit for every word and action.

Sure, I could have pushed through that rough afternoon in Brazil—but embracing grace empowered me to get more healing and resources from the Lord for the remaining ministry times and for my future.

Those packed, powerful ministry days were followed by a refreshing stay in a fun beach town called Ubatuba, at a cozy place, which we figured out on the second day translated to “lighthouse” in English.

We hadn't picked our rest location or accommodations until we hit the road with our mentors (yup, sometimes even I live on the wild side), so after treading through waves of grief and even some doubt I knew this metaphor, a light of hope, guiding me to stay the course wasn't an accident—nothing is!

But beautiful white-sandy beaches framed with palm trees, perfectly cooked meats, and friendly people didn't erase the longing I felt when I cried to our mentors about my dad’s cancer journey or hiked with my husband to the most gorgeous getaways...

For nothing on this earth will satisfy.

We know it deep down.

And yet we don't jump ship.

I packed along Susan Cain's latest, Bittersweet: How Sorrow and Longing Make Us Whole.

Cain may not know or proclaim Jesus as her Savior yet, but she echoes a believer’s heart:

This book carries an enchanting premise with a thread of how the sadness of music and the suffering of life inspire compassion. Like a soundtrack to my last year, there was music for the deepest soul ache. The kind that holds your brokenness until you are whole.

Cain says:

If Cain says, "longing is also the ultimate muse, “ and creativity is offered within the hardest parts of my story, then maybe I shouldn’t fight the dissonance of the melody but begin to dance to it.

And maybe we should also challenge our western culture’s "painted smiles no matter the weather" which Cain contrasts with stories of cultures that make space for darker emotions.

The Sunday after we returned from Brazil we were on our church’s music team and sang these aching words:

"Do you feel the world is broken?
We do…
But do you know that all the dark won’t stop the light from breaking through?
We do…
Do you know that He will make it all brand new?
We do!”

I will follow sunsets and the Son will faithfully shine upon me.

For bitter and sweet is our sorrowful song and dance, working together to tune our broken hearts.

I grip tighter to the torch of longing.

For longing is the sojourner’s guiding light!

For your kingdom come.

For your will to be done, in my family, church, city, and nation.

On earth, as it is in heaven.

For when it will all be made new.

For when I hear “hi, Char” from my daddy and “well done” from my heavenly father.

And so, I keep longing…





Charlene VandenBrink

Charlene strings together soulful words for life’s beauty and struggles.

When not feeding her six children with good books and endless meals, she can be found walking and talking with neighbours, folding laundry while listening to a podcast, or reading and reflecting on her latest stack of books for seminary.

She also cheers on her husband, who runs their Edmonton-based renovation company. They welcomed six children in eight years and are living the dream of homeschooling and traveling life together!

https://charlenevandenbrink.com
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