It’s hot. I’m covered in dirt and sweat, but the shade in this cool, cement room gives me great relief. I entered expecting to sit in on a class, observing a teacher and watching his students, hopefully taking pictures and taking notes. Instead, I’m the only adult in a room full of beautiful eyes waiting for me to do something…anything. Teach us something, they seem to shout at me with their silent faces. I wait patiently for someone else to come, someone who knows what is supposed to be done, someone who can do something. But no one does. Without panicking, I make a choice. I can apologetically walk out of the room, or I can share my heart with these kids. And why else did I come?
There is a map on the wall. I put it on the table in front of me, as the kids somehow take my cue and jump out of their seats to see what I am about to do. They gather around me as I stare at the map. “Here,” I say, pointing to the little spot in New York state that I call home. “This is where I am from.”
I explain that it’s cold there. Snow is on the ground. Snow is like ice that falls from the sky, and builds up several feet so that it covers our house. We have to shovel it out of the way just so we can walk and drive to school. I say that I have a handsome husband and two amazing boys that I love. I’ve left them at home so I could be here, with you. It cost me a lot of money to be here, more than I had. It took me two days just to get here. But here I am.
“Yes, there are a lot of mazungos.” (white people) “But there are people of all colors in my town.”
I point to Florida, California, Canada, and Mexico. “I’ve been here, too.” Then Czech Republic, Egypt, Ireland, Amsterdam, Australia and New Zealand. “I’ve traveled here, too.”
Faces are full of awe. Yes, they’d like to travel someday too. They’d like to see America and meet Obama.
One bold voice asks, “Why? Why did you go to these places?”
“For school, for fun, and to help people.”
“To help kids?”
“Yes.”
There is a pause.
“Orphans?” he asks.
It was one word, but it caught me so off guard I almost couldn’t understand what he said.
“Yes, some were orphans." Like you, I think.
With all the thoughts that swirled in my head after that question, my focus was wondering if that made him feel less special, that I’ve also poured out to others before him, or does it make him feel better, knowing there are other kids in different parts of the world who are just like him.
I will never be sure what reasons he wanted to know that, or how my answer made him feel.
I seem to constantly choose difficulties and things that are too hard to do, because I think God has called me to them. Do I choose to suffer? No! But if suffering is on my path, I will walk through it, just like every other thing on the way. I refuse to walk around things just because my legs hurt, or stop moving because I need a break.
This moment was crazy hard. It doesn’t seem like a big deal, but it was. I’ll never forget it. I’ll never forget being alone in a room full of orphans, asking me questions about life and wondering why I’ve come so far just to be with them.
If even one child understands that I came because I LOVE, then my life has meaning.
LOVE is patient and kind. It is not envious and does not boast. It is not proud, rude, self-seeking, or easily offended. It doesn’t keep a record of wrongs and does not delight in evil, but rejoices with truth. Love never gives up, never loses faith, always hopes, and always endures.
I must make sure LOVE is my driving force. I no longer live in fear, or shame, or darkness. I no longer walk in pain and sadness. Love is a movement that keeps my legs running, my feet pounding the ground. Love for those orphans, their country, this world. It is my Joy. And there is no end to that.
Walking in love one week at a time.
3/17/15
1/21/15
“I’m Mary and I’m Martha all at the same time.”
I’ve recently had a frustrating experience. To be honest, I’m frustrated a lot. It’s in my nature. I’m a practical person in an impractical world. I try to see the good in people, but honestly, being realistic is more valuable to me than being a dreamer. I appreciate dreamers. I know they are important. I wouldn’t be able to live in a world full of people like myself…but at my core, I still value practicality and stability over optimism and spontaneity. Maybe I’m boring. Maybe I’m not creative enough with my life. But I know what to expect and I won’t keep you waiting. I might not impress you, but I also won’t disappoint you.
At least that’s my hope.
But is it really? Do I really hope to 'not impress you' and 'not disappoint you'? Surely that can’t be true.
Recently, I’ve been in a situation where my realistic personality was completely unnecessary. Not unnecessary because it was actually unnecessary, but unnecessary because no one around me cared about reality or actuality. My points were completely valid, and my preparation for this time completely paid off. I was right in every aspect of fear and worry that I had. None of the practical things I thought of were taken care of just as I had assumed. There was a certain level of satisfaction in it for me, but mostly, I felt unappreciated. I felt unloved. I felt disrespected even. At my core, I realized that my gift for practicality is just as unvalued to some people as their gift for creativity is to me.
There’s always an opportunity for growth in situations like these, where you get a little taste of your own medicine.
I walked away not with a feeling of satisfaction that I was right (which is, in itself, a surprise and quite a feat), but instead I was actually…offended. No one cared what I thought. No one cared how I felt. My thoughts, ideas, plans, and help were totally unwanted.
I know deep down that I can’t live in a world without dreamers, creativity, and people who think outside the box. But at the same time, I really like my box, and I don’t want to think outside of it. It’s a nice box. In fact, I have several boxes for whatever I’m doing. Work. Play. Romance. Mom-stuff. Church. All of my boxes are neat and tidy and are fully equipped for whatever may come my way. So when you force me outside of my box, and then make me cold and hungry, I will inevitably be mad at you.
I don’t see a way around this. I can’t find a solution. There must be good in the way I am. I don’t believe everything about me is just wrong and I should try to be a completely different person. I like adventure. I love to travel. I like to try new things and experience cultures and languages and weird food and weird conversation. I’m not COMPLETELY boring. But at the same time, there is something not quite right here either.
As I was fuming about this difficult situation I was in recently, and completely obsessing in my head about how things could have gone differently, I opened the bible app on my phone and started reading. I was currently in the beginning of a gospel reading about Mary becoming the pregnant virgin and the whole story with Joseph. As I’m reading, I realized a few interesting things about Mary and Joseph: they are completely impractical.
Think about it. Mary knows she’s pregnant. Even if she forgot about the angel coming to her and telling her that she’s going to have a baby by the Holy Spirit, she must know by now because of her big, round belly. And trust me, your belly isn’t the only thing that changes when you’re pregnant. She probably also had morning sickness, and swollen feet, and greasy hair, etc. The point is, she knows she’s pregnant. But the king at the time wants to take a census, so Mary and Joseph have to travel back to his hometown to be counted. Now, I could be wrong, but just thinking here, I’m assuming most women who are about to have a baby in this era would be collecting clothing or blankets or items for their baby to be ready for its birth. I’m pretty sure they were even making clothes back in the day, or at least blankets. Yet, when Jesus was born (in a barn, come on, a little money sent ahead to ensure a place to stay would have been nice), they didn’t even have a blanket for him, so they wrapped him in cloths that were just lying around. How is that possible? How did she honestly not have something special ready for the MESSIAH baby???? This is GOD’S SON we’re talking about. You really didn’t think this through, Mary, mother of Jesus? Were they thinking, “we’re going on a long journey. We’re very pregnant. Should I pack anything or plan this through? Nah, we’ll be fine.” WHAT WAS SHE THINKING?
As I’m thinking about this, I am also considering how this is the woman that God chose to honor above all women. He thought so highly of her, that He entrusted His only Son into her care. Maybe God doesn’t value practicality as highly as I do.
Then I thought about Jesus. He has to be one of the most impractical people ever. He just trusts that God will do everything for Him! He needs to pay His taxes, so He goes fishing and pulls a coin out of a fish’s mouth. He doesn’t even pack a pillow or anything so he sleeps with his head on a rock. He preaches to thousands of people for hours and hours and doesn’t have a way to feed them. Ugh! That would drive me crazy about Him! ‘Think ahead Jesus!’ I would yell.
He knew God was taking care of all the details. His Father was holding it all together, and He basically didn’t have to.
I get angry when people do that. I don’t like when things just “work out” for them. You are supposed to work hard and get what you deserve.
I’m not sure this is okay.
It’s kind of like Mary and Martha.
“As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”
I am so Martha. First of all, I’d like to point out that Martha has a home. Mary, in this story, does not. It’s Martha’s home. She has guests. A lot of them. They are dirty and they didn’t bring any food with them. I don’t know what Martha’s life is like, but she probably had to whip up some food and offer clean water and fresh clothing for them. That was a lot of work. And she was doing it faithfully, but alone. All the while her good-for-nothing sister was sitting at Jesus’s feet and soaking it all up! What a waste. She SHOULD be in this kitchen helping me.
That’s what I would do. I think.
But if I actually thought about Jesus being in my house, the Lover of my soul, my true and only desire, how could I not stop everything and just sit at His feet? I love Jesus. I can’t imagine being concerned about my dishes if He was actually here with me, telling me stories, bringing me life, healing me of every ailment, wiping away every tear.
That’s what I would do. I think.
I’m both. I’m Mary and I’m Martha all at the same time. And I understand the importance of both. But how can I be two things at the same time, all the time? It doesn’t feel possible. Especially with all my boxes. I’m usually one or the other. I can’t be both.
But I am reminded of spiritual matters. Martha is my flesh. She works, toils, sows and reaps. She is proud of her achievements and demands what is fair. But then there’s my spirit. Like Mary, she lights up at the sight of her Love. She drops everything to come out and meet Him. She urges and pushes and gently persists that I find what my deepest self is longing for.
In this way, it makes sense to be both. The bible talks a lot about the struggle of being a human with a natural flesh, and being a spiritual being with a heavenly mindset. These two units even fight against each other. So I guess the question is, when it really comes down to it, which part do I want to help win? Which part do I want to cultivate? Do I want to be an earthly body who is here today and gone tomorrow? Or do I want to be a spiritual being who lives forever in unity with My Love?
At the last day, when Jesus comes back, what part of myself do I want Him to see shining through? Do I want to be ready when He calls my name? Or do I want to be too busy working out the practical details to even hear Him in the first place?
At least that’s my hope.
But is it really? Do I really hope to 'not impress you' and 'not disappoint you'? Surely that can’t be true.
Recently, I’ve been in a situation where my realistic personality was completely unnecessary. Not unnecessary because it was actually unnecessary, but unnecessary because no one around me cared about reality or actuality. My points were completely valid, and my preparation for this time completely paid off. I was right in every aspect of fear and worry that I had. None of the practical things I thought of were taken care of just as I had assumed. There was a certain level of satisfaction in it for me, but mostly, I felt unappreciated. I felt unloved. I felt disrespected even. At my core, I realized that my gift for practicality is just as unvalued to some people as their gift for creativity is to me.
There’s always an opportunity for growth in situations like these, where you get a little taste of your own medicine.
I walked away not with a feeling of satisfaction that I was right (which is, in itself, a surprise and quite a feat), but instead I was actually…offended. No one cared what I thought. No one cared how I felt. My thoughts, ideas, plans, and help were totally unwanted.
I know deep down that I can’t live in a world without dreamers, creativity, and people who think outside the box. But at the same time, I really like my box, and I don’t want to think outside of it. It’s a nice box. In fact, I have several boxes for whatever I’m doing. Work. Play. Romance. Mom-stuff. Church. All of my boxes are neat and tidy and are fully equipped for whatever may come my way. So when you force me outside of my box, and then make me cold and hungry, I will inevitably be mad at you.
I don’t see a way around this. I can’t find a solution. There must be good in the way I am. I don’t believe everything about me is just wrong and I should try to be a completely different person. I like adventure. I love to travel. I like to try new things and experience cultures and languages and weird food and weird conversation. I’m not COMPLETELY boring. But at the same time, there is something not quite right here either.
As I was fuming about this difficult situation I was in recently, and completely obsessing in my head about how things could have gone differently, I opened the bible app on my phone and started reading. I was currently in the beginning of a gospel reading about Mary becoming the pregnant virgin and the whole story with Joseph. As I’m reading, I realized a few interesting things about Mary and Joseph: they are completely impractical.
Think about it. Mary knows she’s pregnant. Even if she forgot about the angel coming to her and telling her that she’s going to have a baby by the Holy Spirit, she must know by now because of her big, round belly. And trust me, your belly isn’t the only thing that changes when you’re pregnant. She probably also had morning sickness, and swollen feet, and greasy hair, etc. The point is, she knows she’s pregnant. But the king at the time wants to take a census, so Mary and Joseph have to travel back to his hometown to be counted. Now, I could be wrong, but just thinking here, I’m assuming most women who are about to have a baby in this era would be collecting clothing or blankets or items for their baby to be ready for its birth. I’m pretty sure they were even making clothes back in the day, or at least blankets. Yet, when Jesus was born (in a barn, come on, a little money sent ahead to ensure a place to stay would have been nice), they didn’t even have a blanket for him, so they wrapped him in cloths that were just lying around. How is that possible? How did she honestly not have something special ready for the MESSIAH baby???? This is GOD’S SON we’re talking about. You really didn’t think this through, Mary, mother of Jesus? Were they thinking, “we’re going on a long journey. We’re very pregnant. Should I pack anything or plan this through? Nah, we’ll be fine.” WHAT WAS SHE THINKING?
As I’m thinking about this, I am also considering how this is the woman that God chose to honor above all women. He thought so highly of her, that He entrusted His only Son into her care. Maybe God doesn’t value practicality as highly as I do.
Then I thought about Jesus. He has to be one of the most impractical people ever. He just trusts that God will do everything for Him! He needs to pay His taxes, so He goes fishing and pulls a coin out of a fish’s mouth. He doesn’t even pack a pillow or anything so he sleeps with his head on a rock. He preaches to thousands of people for hours and hours and doesn’t have a way to feed them. Ugh! That would drive me crazy about Him! ‘Think ahead Jesus!’ I would yell.
He knew God was taking care of all the details. His Father was holding it all together, and He basically didn’t have to.
I get angry when people do that. I don’t like when things just “work out” for them. You are supposed to work hard and get what you deserve.
I’m not sure this is okay.
It’s kind of like Mary and Martha.
“As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”
I am so Martha. First of all, I’d like to point out that Martha has a home. Mary, in this story, does not. It’s Martha’s home. She has guests. A lot of them. They are dirty and they didn’t bring any food with them. I don’t know what Martha’s life is like, but she probably had to whip up some food and offer clean water and fresh clothing for them. That was a lot of work. And she was doing it faithfully, but alone. All the while her good-for-nothing sister was sitting at Jesus’s feet and soaking it all up! What a waste. She SHOULD be in this kitchen helping me.
That’s what I would do. I think.
But if I actually thought about Jesus being in my house, the Lover of my soul, my true and only desire, how could I not stop everything and just sit at His feet? I love Jesus. I can’t imagine being concerned about my dishes if He was actually here with me, telling me stories, bringing me life, healing me of every ailment, wiping away every tear.
That’s what I would do. I think.
I’m both. I’m Mary and I’m Martha all at the same time. And I understand the importance of both. But how can I be two things at the same time, all the time? It doesn’t feel possible. Especially with all my boxes. I’m usually one or the other. I can’t be both.
But I am reminded of spiritual matters. Martha is my flesh. She works, toils, sows and reaps. She is proud of her achievements and demands what is fair. But then there’s my spirit. Like Mary, she lights up at the sight of her Love. She drops everything to come out and meet Him. She urges and pushes and gently persists that I find what my deepest self is longing for.
In this way, it makes sense to be both. The bible talks a lot about the struggle of being a human with a natural flesh, and being a spiritual being with a heavenly mindset. These two units even fight against each other. So I guess the question is, when it really comes down to it, which part do I want to help win? Which part do I want to cultivate? Do I want to be an earthly body who is here today and gone tomorrow? Or do I want to be a spiritual being who lives forever in unity with My Love?
At the last day, when Jesus comes back, what part of myself do I want Him to see shining through? Do I want to be ready when He calls my name? Or do I want to be too busy working out the practical details to even hear Him in the first place?
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