There have been several things that have reasonated in my spirit this week:
"Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work." -Thomas Edison
"The most prickly of children is often the one that needs the affection the most" -Jenn's friend
I've posted below from Divine Nobodies by Jim Palmer. I posted this before, but I was re-reading it this week. God lead me to it and I think it is so applicable to where I am at. As I read, I realized, I'm sitting in 13D. Do I really want to go here with God?
Read below:
"From Nashville, we covered 8,792 miles to get there, and soon after arriving I was plunged into an evil I hoped existed only in nightmares. I would have long since conveniently buried this experience beneath a mountain of rationalizations if I hadn't looked deep into the vacant eyes of a twelve-year-old sex slave and vowed never to forget. Her expression cannot be purged from memory, and sometimes my mind plays tricks by imposing her face on some little girl I see walking in the mall or playing in the park. Returning to my past world of ignorance would relieve my grief, but it's impossible to go back.
He goes on to depict some graphic and horrific details that I won't put here. He goes on to give details of his mission with the International Justice Mission, a group which deploys operatives around the globe to rescue victims of horrific human rights crimes, usually involving children. He goes on, talking about being confronted with the realities of this world being right in front of him, and no longer buried in the obscure sections in the back of the newspaper. He goes on:
My worldview was turned upside down in the length of time it took to walk past the line of little girls waiting outside a clinic to receive treatment for AIDS and every sexually transmitted disease imaginable. I couldn't get back on the plane to Nashville quick enough.
I've done my share of globe-hopping, traveling to parts of the world most wouldn't be too interested to vacation in. One has a lot of time to kill on those long international flights, especially if you're like me and can't sleep well on planes. Flying home from South Asia, my books were stuffed in the bottom of my duffel bag, lost somewhere in the abyss of the overhead compartment. I decided I didn't want to risk waking up the kid next to me, who had finally stopped crying and gone to sleep. I had read every newspaper, was not interested in purchasing a thingamabob from the Sky Mall magazine, and had already seen Father of the Bride twice. So I sat and I thought...
Have you ever stopped to wonder, Where was God today? Yes, I know God is 'omnipresent,' but I mean specifically, where was God today? Where did he go? What did he see? How did he feel? I began imagining God present at that miraculous moment a precious life was born into the world, the joy and marvel of the newborn bearing God's image and uniquely fashioned by his hands. Taking in the beauty of a brilliant blazing sun slowly descending behind endless ocean waves, I have felt the company of the Creator amid the splendor of his handiwork. Jogging a woodland trail one autumn morning I passed an aged couple leisurely strolling in conversation hand in hand. God must have been there smiling as these soul mates shared a ripe and tender love, a gift from God, who is himself named Love. These simple but magnificent miracles inspire love and adoration for God deep within and draw me to him.
Somewhere over the Atlantic, forty thousand feet about the earth, these nice thoughts about God gave way to disturbing images I wish I could forget from my trip. Now the question, where was God today? tortured me. Today a ten-year-old girl is being strapped down tight to a bed and brutally and repeatedly raped. God is present. Today an eight-year-old emaciated boy is covered with a cardboard box and left to die. Slowly he slips into unconsciousness. God is present. Today a young mom of three wails in bed as her skeletal body writhes with the unrelenting agony of AIDS. God is present. Still, I grew angry. Why was God pushing these horrors in my face? I was emotionally spent and wanted to go home to myworld. God could have that world; that was his deal; he's God; I didn't live in that world.
Or did I?
Sitting in 13D, I uncovered something unsettling about myself. I don't really want a 'relationship' with God. Here's what I want. I want to share with God all I feel, all I need, all that grieves me, all that makes me happy, the puzzling things, the fun things, and the hard things, but I would prefer that God keep his stuff to himself. I don't want to hear about his pain and share in his grief. I don't mind listening to God as long as I'm receiving solutions, answers, and advice. Maybe what I really want is a divine vending machine: pop in my prayer, press the button for my need, and I'm good to go. A professional live-in massage therapist and a Starbucks within walking distance would be nice too.
Any relationship involves two people, you and the other. It seems that in a 'relationship' with God, we would desire to listen to the Other to learn what the Other is really like. But how is this possible without going through the adventure of each day with the Other? Can we personally and intimately know someone without sharing experiences, and doing things together--little things as well as big things, and taking the risks of love together? Wouldn't we want to learn how to love those whom the Other loves, to see them through his eyes? We would want to rest and celebrate together, to share beautiful things, to laugh together. But wouldn't we also want to enter into the pain and grief the Other feels when pain, injustice, and cruelty are inflicted upon those he loves? In every abusive home where a child cries in fear and pain, and in every city street where a homeless person shivers under newspapers on the pavement, the living Christ is there. Whether it's across town or on the other side of the globe, suffering people surround us. Maybe 'carrying Jesus' cross' is our free choice to become compassionately involved with him in the pain of others and be partners with God in bringing healing and transformation.
Just a small glimpse into God's world was enough for me. It's staggering to consider the intensity of anger and anguish I felt witnessing just a few injustices compared to what God must feel being personally and fully present to countless such heinous horrors 24/7. You'd have to be comatose not to feel God's hurt and anger ooze from the pages of Scripture over the oppression of the weak and vulnerable. Even after all my sophisticated exegesis of the Old Testament prophets and words of Jesus, I can't seem to get away from the fact that the main message of God to his people about injustice is to get off our rear ends and do something! This goes way deeper than feeling guilty about doing more; I'm trying to figure our how I got to the place where the things that break the heart of God are so marginal to mine.
I'm starting to wonder if I can even have a 'relationship' with God this way, and I'm left with the question of how much I really want to know God. There's no having it both ways. Whether I like it or not, the God who dances over the breathtaking sunrise weeps over each victim of brutality.
Any relationship runs the risk of drifting apart over time. Take boy meets girl. In the hunting phase (or 'dating' phase), guys become mysteriously and happily engaged in virtually everything the woman has interest in, including endless browsing at Pier 1 and watching Brad Pitt movies. We become brainwashed in love. College football, working out, and playing golf are easily sacrificed on the altar of love. They get married, and five years later, she's at the mall with a friend, and he's at home TiVo-ing the big game and watching Terminator 5 while running on the treadmill. They have grown apart due to their separate interests. When I started off with Jesus, I wanted to know everything about him. I would have gone anywhere and done anything at any cost. As the years rolled on, somehow I became less interested in him and more interested in me. More specifically, what he could do for me. Rather than a relationship, my Christianity morphed into some sort of divine self-help philosophy, problem-solving plan, and life-improvement strategy.
.
.
I had a few moments alone with Varsha on a bench in the outdoor courtyard of the recovery ranch where she now lives. We sat and talked. I learned that being saved from the brothel was just the first step on her long and difficult road to freedom. It was going to take a lifetime to recover from the physical, emotional, and spiritual damage she had experienced. She knows one thing: this Jesus must be worth knowing if his followers risk their lives to rescue nobodies like her. Reaching into a brown paper bag, she bashfully pulled out a braided leather necklace and presented it to me. She made it herself. Part of the healing process had been her discovering a talent for making jewelry and dresses, which she sold at the market.
It was time for her to go; she had an appointment at the AIDS clinic in the city and an afternoon counseling session. I felt awkward and didn't know what to say. Wanting to hug her, I had become timid myself. Time was ticking, and so I clumsily asked, 'Do you mind if I give you a hug good-bye?' As we embraced, I closed my eyes. This was a holy moment. In my arms was a precious and priceless daughter of God. One million new girls every year around the world are forced into child prositution. Can someone like me or you really make any difference in such a massive sea of hurting people? It may not seem like much, but in moments like this, the ability to impact one life means a lot. God knows this one by name, and now she is free.
Sometimes what happens in our world is absolute evil, unimaginable chaos, and a stunning reversal of God's intent for creation. When my heart is broken open by suffering, especially suffering caused by human selfishness and cruelty, I meet a more complex God than I would prefer. Sometimes he is an uncomforting God who does not provide easy, consoling answers to my pleading question, Why? At other times he is a discomforting God, and his grief is simultaneously a cry for justice that enters creation like a mighty storm, rousing God's people from their sleep. While we wait in the darkness and ask God, 'Why did you let this happen?' God hurls the question back to us: "Wake up, people, to what is happening. Why do you let this happen in the world I gave you?'
Whenever people are victims of injustice, God desires intervention. Some people in our world suffer from lack of food, water, shelter, or medical care. I'm beginning to see there's a whole other category of suffering in the world, namely, oppression. It's a crime of opportunity when powerful people exploit the weak and vulnerable by taking what they have or forcing them to do what they otherwise wouldn't. This grieves and angers God, and we reflect his image in us when we refuse to tolerate it. This God is both powerful and vulnerable in ways that are consistent with relationship and with life. He cares deeply about the well-being of every person in every community. He is passionate about wholeness and peace. He also hardwired humanity with free will. With that will, people commit injustice and believers ignore it. To live faithfully in relationship with God requires facing the whole truth of our world, looking honestly at our part in it, and being true to our identity as sons and daughters of God in the midst of it. This discomforting God forces us to face reality and mobilizes us to do something about it.
Whether it's across the ocean or across town, it's never been about the number of people I can help relative to the size of the need. It's about relationship. With God. With one another. This one young girl in the middle of nowhere matters to him, and as we embrace, I feel she's starting to matter to me. We say our good-byes; she goes her way, and I go mine. Almost nine thousand miles is a long way to travel, but I think the distance between God and me is shrinking."
2 prickly kids in "overalls" showed up at my door this week. Where was God when they were orphanned? Where was God along the way to today? And today...where was He today? God is here and has been there all along the way. He's here today. He wants me right here with Him. He desires love, justice, and mercy. I think that is what is the hardest - I'm not particularly fond of my responses to my discomfort, anger, and offense in the midst of all this. These kids matter to Him, even though I'm ready to throw in the towel. No matter the outcome, maybe we'll see the distance between "God and me is shrinking"...it already is...
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