More Reflections from Peru

Today on the blog I’m finally talking about some of my recent travels, specifically to Peru, although this post is more about the spiritual aspect of it than the physical traveling.

I went to Peru to conquer several fears.  I was faced head-on with 2-3 of them each day, and I’m very grateful that they were spaced out like that.  The first day I was there, the manifestation of that fear was so intense that I literally stood and had a panic attack and couldn’t even move.  My friend that moved there and the lady whose house she (we) stayed at both grabbed me and started praying over me.  The following day, I ran into the husband who lives there —just gonna stop right here and say WOW, I love him, our spirits connected so hard on this trip and I did absolutely not want to leave the atmosphere he hosted— and he just started saying how proud he was of me and speaking so much life into me and prophesying into me and confirming things that have just been between me and God, things I have kept so personal and close to my heart, he was telling me about.  Word for word.  Prophetic words that people in the US spoke over me before I left, he repeated—and he didn’t even know about them.  The most personal desires of my heart, he was telling me were going to happen.  Promises God has made me, he told me.  I’m sitting at the pool tearing up just thinking about it as I write this.  I’m still so undone by it.  So undone that all he’d seen of me was failure and panic and fear and all he spoke was life and how proud he was of me and honor and love.  And God told me later in the trip that He was like that.  He isn’t like a father who only tells me He’s proud of me when I accomplish something, He’s saying He’s proud of me from the start, when I’m still chest-deep in fear and anxiety and not seeing any glimmer of bravery.  He calls me up and sets my feet upon a rock.  He gives me the desires of my heart.  I trust Him.
He’s good.
Oh boy, is He good.
He was there with me every breath in Peru.  I saw Him.  He was a lion, and He was there when I looked.  Whenever I looked at the fear instead, I didn’t see Him, but I quickly realized this was a breath-by-breath battle.  The devil didn’t let up for a moment.  So I didn’t either.
I played my worship music every moment I had the chance.  I re-read the prophetic words that had been spoken over me.  I soaked up my paper Bible and held it close.  I cried and sat in silence and listened.
I fought.  And I found Him.
Oh, how I just want to sit here and weep.  He was there, in that secret place.  I felt Him every hour of every day.  Oh, how I want Him back.  I want to feel Him like I felt Him there.  Everyone keeps telling me how glad they are that I’m back in the country and how they want to hear all about it and all I can think is, “I didn’t want to leave!! I don’t want to be here! I want Him back! I want to be back in that atmosphere, in that LIFE, in that hope and joy and peace and presence!!” It’s not the same here.  We don’t host Him like they do.  You know Him there, you know Him intimately, and He knows you.  He speaks to you, to the very deepest hopes and dreams of your heart.  He saw me there and He showed me myself and I found myself loving it.  Do you know how often in my life I’ve looked and myself and loved what I’ve seen? I can’t think of a time! I’ve always had negative self-talk and beaten myself up and held the standard for myself so far above my own head.  But I was different there.  I was brave and unafraid and bold and I stepped out and spoke life back into that community, spontaneously preached—in Spanish and English—and it was never too hard because He was always too good.
And when I landed back home I just felt an oppressive wave of fear and inadequacy drench me like the humidity in the air.  It’s T H I C K.  It’s suffocating, and it’s so much harder to breathe and host the atmosphere I had in Peru.  It’s a whole other kind of battle.  I’m fighting for myself, for the self that God showed me I was in Peru to immigrate to the US now.  That Callie was called up and out and sharpened in Peru, and while it was hard, everyone spoke such life and joy there, and bringing out the best—the God—in each other was a common goal.  I want to bring that back here.  I was to stand up and show God like God was shown to me, but I don’t know how or where to start and it’s so overwhelming.  I want everyone I love to experience what I experienced, and fear is screaming at me that I’m the same I always was.  That I didn’t really conquer anything and Peru was just a blip on the radar of my memory, it was so fast.
But I know.
I know.
The feeling of coming up out of that Amazonian river water when I got baptized on the last day—I’m crying just remembering it—it was different.  I knew.  I knew.  I knew me, and I knew I AM.  And I just knew…that was who I was created to be.  That was what abundant life tasted like.
It was so good.  It is so good.  
Heaven isn’t nearly as far away as we think it is, y’all.  It’s right. here.  It’s for us.
I’m committing to tasting it every day.  I think I’d die without it.  It’s so good.  It’s the best craving I’ve ever had.  And it’s for us.  Here, now, as in heaven.  Life, joy, peace, all in abundance.   He’s better than you think He is.  He’s better than I thought He was, and I thought He was pretty great already.
I’ve been challenged to and prophesied to that I will lead others into this anointing, and I’m so here for it.  So lost and confused about how and so desperate to see it happen.
He will do what He said He would.  I’ve seen it.  Bill Johnson says that you can’t get the peace that passes all understanding until you give up trying to understand.
I think we stand to have a lot to gain when we give up trying to understand, trying to make everything make sense and instead just run in the direction from which you heard God’s voice.  I think understanding is over-rated, and I think having other people understand is over-rated too.  Sometimes we just have to stand up and speak out and be okay with looking ridiculous, because He will always show up.  It’s those undignified, desperate, delighting in the Lord places that I want to move into and set up a permanent residence.  I don’t care what physical country it’s in.
Much love,

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By Callie Susanna

I'm a writer who publishes my thoughts on the life I'm living, literature I'm reading, and God I'm serving. Psalm 27:4 One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple.


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