Messengers Here and Abroad

Upon returning from an overseas mission trip I often find the need to make sense of all the things I encountered. I think it’s important to process. If the Lord reveals Himself to you and you do not take the time to fully think it over, then how will you ever remember the truths He presents to you?

So, I’ve been to India. This year, in fact, I was in India for two and a half weeks. I feel like I experienced the height of culture and the lowest of poverty. I felt confident going to the Dominican Republic would be a breeze. In some ways it was because I had seen some of the things before, yet it was so different. I thought I loved the Lord in India, but man, do I love Him even more now; and the things he chose to reveal to me are so different.

At first I struggled to find purpose in the work we were doing. I believe that loving on children is important, and there are kids out there who need it desperately; but I began to wonder if that was all I had travelled there to do. Was the gospel being preached enough? Was I living with purpose? Was my time there worth it?

The next day, after all these thoughts flooded my mind, we visited a village of Haitian immigrants. Before we got off the bus, our translator informed us that this village had about 5 buildings/homes with about 50 people, not including children, living in the village. They didn’t have anywhere to use the bathroom, so we were supposed to watch our step, because we were stepping off the bus into their toilet. He also told us that these people didn’t get very many visitors. As we exited the bus, people began to gather under an awning coming to see what we had arrived to do.  Having prepared for a VBS, we had to improvise a little with some songs and games as mostly adults had gathered there.

As I looked out on the crowd I saw the faces that are draped across trendy cause-wear t-shirts, television commercials, and news features surrounding us. I looked in their yellowed eyes. I felt their sun-beaten skin and calloused hands. I swated at the gnats flying all around mine and the children’s’ faces while everyone from the village paid no mind. I saw a man donning a shirt that read “sexy queen,” but to him all it spoke was function, for he could neither speak English nor care in the slightest about fashion.

We began to sing. Our youth pastor has made us sing many times, “Singing in the Rain,” where you do the motions and by the end of the song you’re dancing around like you’re a little kid. By the time we were to the end of the song, I glanced out at the crowd and saw an 80 year old man with his thumbs up and his tongue out, humming the tune while swaying back and forth.  As I looked into the eyes of people who lived in homes made of corrugated metal, and wore only clothes that were the cast-offs of someone else, I realized that my daily life, my problems and my fears look nothing like theirs. We have nothing in common. But through song, a translator and mostly, the Holy Spirit, we brought life, joy, hope, and most importantly the gospel to a discarded group of people. We were able to love a group of people whom it seemed the rest of the world had forgotten even existed. It truly felt like something Jesus Christ would have done.

For those that say it would have been better to send money over instead of ourselves, I dare you to look in the eyes of those people, and ask them if that’s what they would prefer.

As I returned home I did become more grateful for the things I take for granted every day. I can go to any water fountain in this country and get water to drink that won’t harm me and I have a toilet and a shower I can use any time I want.

While out during the day, each of us had brought snacks in our bag, and we had gathered them together to give to the Haitians at this village. It was just little snacks, which to be honest we most likely would have thrown away because they got a little squished in our bags on the trip. Each person graciously accepted our cast-offs as a gift. Try giving away your bag of smoshed Lays to the business man next to you on the plane and he’ll look at you like you’re out of your mind.

Though we come home with this grateful feeling, I believe it’s necessary to come back with something more than simply that. If all we take away from such a trip is only to say, “Thank you God for giving me such better circumstances than all those people I met this week,” I believe we’ve missed the point.  Instead we MUST come back saying, “Thank you God, for revealing yourself to me. Help me to simplify the way I live my life and find a way to serve people where I am as much as I did in the time I was away.”

We are messengers of the Good News and I believe if we fail to proclaim that in our everyday living we cease to believe that it’s the answer to all our questions. His plan for salvation has worked, so let’s live life like we believe that. Wherever we are.  

Graveside Poetry

This morning I attended the burial service of a young lady whom I had never met. It was an interesting experience to be able to observe without having any personal history or emotional thoughts running through my head. I was able to watch a family grieving and the process with which they said their last goodbyes. As the family was seated in six folding chairs that formed a semi-circle around the grave, I stood behind them and surveyed the scene; I watched as loved ones hugged and comforted each other as best they knew how. I learned which woman was the mother based on the sound of the sobs that could only be produced by a grieving mother devastated to be outliving her daughter. As she hugged other family members, I looked on feeling like an intruder watching what were most likely the saddest tears this woman had ever cried, hit the top of the fake grass carpets laying a top the grave site that soaked up all her pain.

What really struck me in all of it was the metaphor that the whole experience seemed to portray.

After a time of grieving, the family sat and looked at the box that held the remains of their loved one, unsure of what to do next. They peered around at one another, looking and asking to see if they could find the man they had talked to earlier:  the owner of the cemetery who knew how all these things were supposed to work.  He stood off in the distance. The man was solemn-faced and wearing sunglasses.  He stood behind us, just patiently waiting to be called upon. He said he would be ready when they signaled him. As I watched the family look for someone to help show them the way to properly send off their loved one, I could not help but compare the entire situation to our relationship with God.

The family took their time and grieved, cried and spent time together. The pastor spoke a few words from scripture, and offered a prayer and a few comforting thoughts; but when it came time, we needed the owner to show us the way. He waited patiently in the background until we gave him the signal that we needed his help; and he came quietly over to guide the process. 

The clean cut, brawny young man, lifted up the turf-like carpet to reveal the old wood that created the pedestal that the pure white box had formerly sat upon.  He showed us, that the covering which had provided a nice looking grave site, once removed, simply covered a piece of dry, dirty ground in which a hole had been dug.  As he began to lower the box into the ground, he did not do it alone. He prepared the ropes so that the family could lower the box with him.

I don’t know why, but in that moment the Lord revealed a picture of his wisdom to me. I have been learning to appreciate the poetry and beauty that lies in our relationship with Christ.

We wander around this earth, not sure exactly what we’re doing a lot of the time, or if we’re doing it right. We look around to family, to ministers, to books, and ask to see what we should be doing. Then, we remember there is a man we talked to earlier about things, and he told us that he would show us the way if we would only call on him. When we do, he comes promptly, and removes the carpet covering all the falsities that we’ve believed for so long and reveals to us the bare truth underneath. It’s sometimes something hard to deal with. It is those times when you don’t think you can cry another tear onto that green carpet that holds all your hurt; but when you give him the signal that you need his help, the Lord comes quickly to your aid. He guides you in the process of finally letting go of that struggle, but he asks you to take part in the work. He shows you the way, then helps you in the process. You do it together because he knows that you will appreciate the experience more if you are the one doing it, but he understands you cannot do it alone.

I am amazed at the true wisdom that the Lord possesses and blessed when he reveals even just a piece of it to me in times like this. How great is the Lord on whom we can cast all our cares. He will come and show us the truth, the process, and then help us to our end goal. A somber morning indeed, but the Lord is near. Let us all remember that He is waiting for us to give Him the signal that we are ready for Him to come in and help us heal.

Psalm 145:18 The Lord is near to all who call on him

Play your 'Cards' right, Pujols

Albert Pujols.  Seems a bit silly but he has seriously been on my mind a lot lately.  I won’t claim to be the biggest baseball buff out there, but I’ve grown up with the Cards and have had some great memories with them.  Sunday night I even had a dream about Pujols not renewing a contract and I was so mad.  Though I’m scared he might go somewhere where he will get what he’s asking, and what some say he deserves, I’m going to enjoy this season.  After all, Cardinals fans are the most faithful ones out there.  And I did make it through 2003 and losing my favorite player, JD Drew.  (No he wasn’t the best player in baseball, but I was in sixth grade and loved yelling “DREEEEEEEWWWWW” when he came up to bat.)

As I think about Pujols and the position he has been put in I immediately think of his Christian faith and try to see how hard this must be for him.  Initially I was upset and thought that he was being ridiculous, but I’m starting to see his dilemma.  It’s just the amount of money that’s being talked about is outrageous to even consider.  It’s hard to imagine what the difference would be between $100 million and $300 million since I don’t even have any clue what having $1 million would be like.  I won't even mention the unequal distribution of weatlth in this world, because that's a whole other issue.  

This situation leads me to wonder what the heck Pujols must be thinking right now.  I have always seen him as a humble, gracious, and faithful guy, so I assume he’s put a lot of thought into this.  I know his agents and managers must have a lot to do with his negotiations, but I’m sure he has plenty of say.  I have to question, as a follower of Jesus Christ, what’s the right thing to do?

I have often struggled with knowing where to draw the line on situations like this.  Not necessarily with money, but with how you get treated by others.  Being the strong willed person I am, I don’t personally want to be taken advantage of, but what would Jesus say?  Would He care if people treated him like a doormat?  I mean he did come to earth, have people hate him, and still die for those very people without sinning once.  Sometimes I’m just not sure how to translate that into being my own person, standing up for myself but being Christ-like at the same time. 

So, Albert Pujols is currently the greatest baseball player alive.  He is also a professing Christian.  So as the best baseball player he is worth $300 million, but as a Christian should he ask for it?  Since Jesus didn’t play pro ball, it’s easy to see the quandary in making this decision. 

As Christians, should we ask for what we deserve and risk looking selfish to some, or should we humble ourselves to the point of becoming a doormat?  I suppose it’s hard to find the happy medium, and I am pretty sure Pujols is looking for it.  But should we be looking for a medium? Jesus wasn't really a moderate kind of person.  He was pretty radical.   

The one story I am reminded of when I hear this, is the Parable of the rich fool in Luke 12, when Jesus said ‘“Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.”

 ¹⁶ And he told them this parable: “The ground of a certain rich man yielded an abundant harvest. ¹⁷ He thought to himself, ‘What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.’

   ¹⁸ “Then he said, ‘This is what I’ll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store my surplus grain. ¹⁹ And I’ll say to myself, “You have plenty of grain laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry.”’

   ²⁰ “But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?’

   ²¹ “This is how it will be with whoever stores up things for themselves but is not rich toward God.” 

Shortly after Jesus adds, ‘“³³ Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will never fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. ³⁴ For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”’

I wish Pujols good luck, and I hope we keep him, but even more I hope that no matter what team he plays for, God can continue to be glorified through his amazing talent, witness and how he spends the money from the new contract he receives.

Giving up.

No, I am not giving up on life and this is not a post about how terrible I think my life is; I have just lately been wondering what I would be willing to give up in order to serve God more completely.
Yesterday in chapel, we were presented with an opportunity, but almost more of a challenge to donate our favorite item of clothing to a clothing drive here at school.  I began thinking, seriously, if I would be willing to give up my favorite thing to someone less fortunate.  The reason they stated, was because we often donate our cast-offs, things that are out of style, don't fit, or have gotten worn, but this time they want us to give something we love, so that someone else can feel pretty and confident in the item of clothing they recieve.
So, I sat there thinking, would I be willing to give up my favorite piece of clothing? Should I really even be considering it? Shouldn't I just be willing to give up anything? After all, scripture says in Matthew 25:40  “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’"  I guess the question then becomes, am I willing to give up a sweater for my King?
For me, it was a sobering thought. 
As I continued to think about this, I thought about the difference between giving up something tangible like clothes, and giving up something different like time or commitment. 
So say I was, in fact, willing to give up my sweater, but am I willing to give up my time to read my Bible, or help someone, or volunteer at church, or do I simply say, "I'm not going to get up early and read my Bible; I'll do it when I have time." or "I'm really busy, I can't talk about this now, can it wait til later?" For myself I fear that the question I pose, would I be willing to give up my favorite sweater for someone who needs it? then turns into, would I be willing to give up a little extra time or commitment for someone who needs it? or furthermore, for my Savior?  Unfortunately for me and probably many others, that answer many times is a staunch 'no.'
While all these thoughts were still floating around in my mind, I was reading my Old Testament book and came across a section talking about when Jonah became so angry about the plant that provided him shade being eaten by a worm. "Jonah became angry to the point of death over a mere plant, but didn't care at all for the thousands of people in Nineveh." Going back to the clothing drive, do we have more concern for the clothes hanging in our closet, or the things parked in our driveway, or sitting under our tree than for the people of Bolivar, St. Louis, Arnold, or worse yet, than for Jesus Christ himself?

Maybe I should have thought of a different blog title...

I guess the title of this blog is somewhat false.  This and future posts will have something to do with me and my life, I guess that's the sole purpose of a blog in the first place right?  Who am I asking, you ask? I really don't know, but another point of a blog is to be cool and savvy, so I must ask rhetorical questions in addition to my wise and humorous anecdotes.  But, (another thing I hear you can do in blogs is throw out all grammar rules ie: beginning a sentence with "but") in all seriousness, I do want this to be a place to reflect my growth and my focus on Jesus Christ.  My Savior. I feel as though even in the first few months of my college experience I've learned so much about myself, God and our relationship, that if I fail to write or blog about it I may forget it all together.  Insert statistic about how you only remember .23% of stuff you don't write down, here.
I don't know what else to write about in my first post other than how I feel about posting my first post. I want to be reflective of all Christ has done for me, so I guess that is why I ultimately chose this title.  My life as a Christ follower in actuality shouldn't be about, well, me.  So, while I choose to reflect upon my life and circumstances, I mostly want to reflect on how Christ is the most important element in all of those circumstances.
I can't wait to see what God has in store for me the rest of this semester, and really the rest of my life.  I know that his work can only go as far as my obedience.  This week I took my first step towards that initial obedience and I went to an assisted living facility here in Bolivar to play Bingo with the residents.  I had felt God nudging me there for quite some time and I finally worked up the courage to go last night.  All the typical fears one has of nursing homes quickly invaded my mind, "What do I say? What do I do? Will they want to talk to me? Will it smell weird?"  (The answer to the last two questions is a resounding yes.)  And as I walked through the front doors, I knew I was nervous, but I knew I was being obedient, and guess what?  I wasn't all that scary.  It was actually great.
God was and still is showing me that in order to be used by Him, sometimes we need to be uncomfortable.  Do you remember the part in the Bible where Jesus says, "Come follow me and you will have the easiest and most comfortable life ever?" You don't? That's because it sounded more like, "When you come follow me you will have nowhere to lay your head."  I don't know about you, but that's not my idea of comfort. But really this life is not about me, or my comfort, it's about His glory.
God also showed me that the people in assisted living and I have a lot in common.  College is our step in between childhood and the real world.  What is college dorm life if not assisted living? We don't generally cook, or pay bills, or do dishes. We have people constantly looking out for us and trying to help us.  We have to move to a new place filled with people we don't know and change our routine to something different than what we've been doing since before we can remember.
All in all, I obviously don't know everything, but I know God has many things He's going to teach me through my time at Butterfield Assisted Living and my time everywhere else, so tune in next time for more.