Up until now, this blog has been mostly about sharing the nitty gritty of ministry and life out here on the field. I’ve done that mostly through photos and short stories of what a typical day in ______________
{fill in the blank} country is like, and through videos and “book reports”.
It’s been good, and it’s been real.
But as I was “flipping” back through all that I’ve written thus far, I realized I haven’t really addressed matters of the heart, or the deep things the Lord is teaching me.
You see, He teaches me in so many ways: through people, both on my squad and in total strangers. He teaches me through music and worship, in complete silence, through the chaos and noise, and in His word. He teaches me in the pain and heartache and bitterness and confusion about relationships, friendships, and family that I’m currently walking through. He teaches me in all the ways He keeps providing {read my recent blog titled “God is Nuts! A Support Update”} to read about how He’s met me with all that I need financially this year. He really is nuts, in the best possible way.
Mostly, though, He’s teaching me through the lack.
My lack.
The things I am lacking.
I’m realizing I lack many of the Fruits of the Spirit, or as I like to call them, “The Fruity Pebbles”.
I’m serious.
These gifts that are offered freely to us by God’s Spirit, which lives inside of us, are rich and full; they are seemingly little, insignificant pebbles, but they can greatly change our lives and hearts. In case you’ve never heard of them, {I hadn’t until a few years ago}, here they are:
Oh, my word. As I look at that list, I realize my lack. I realize the ways in which my flesh has won, and how I am enslaving myself when I gratify its desires.
On any given day, I do what I want.
I think how I want.
I act according to my emotions or “feelings”.
And I shut down when I don’t get what I want.
In many ways, I’m still such a child in my faith, and while that is hard to admit, and while it is convicting, it’s time to be honest about it.
As I have grown over the last 5 months of the Race, God has gently revealed my lack to me {gently, because that’s one of His fruits} and He wants to show me that I can possess and practice the very same gentleness as well. Praise Him because He doesn’t allow us to remain sitting in our junk, but calls us up into greatness! {In my humble opinion, "greatness" should be added to the list as the tenth pebble. Just sayin’.} Praise Him because He never allows us to stop growing and maturing in our faith until the day we die.
And because He lacks none of the pebbles, but instead is the very source of each of them, I’ve really begun to contemplate what my life could look like if I filled up my bowl each morning with some “Fruity Pebbles” and drank of His Word.
Nine great gifts, and He wants to give them abundantly to those who ask or seek.
He tells us that those who choose to seek Him will “lack no good thing”. {Psalm 34:10}
So let me tell ya, I am asking daily. I’m getting out my bowl and setting it on the table.
And I’m asking that He would fill it and replace my lack with all the things I need to truly walk in freedom with Him.
Consider this the start of a new serious of 9 blogs, one about each Fruit.
As I learn more, and develop in one pebble at a time, you’ll hear about it.
If I think back to the days I was in school, I was never a big fan of any of it {except for times when we were able to do "free reading"--where you could CHOOSE what book you read and what topic it was}...and recess!!
Who doesn't love recess?
Well, now, I'm on the flip-side of things, and am headed back into schools for ministry here in the beautiful, lush, and green Ukrainian countryside, where I am no longer a student, but instead...a TEACHER!
That's right: this month, my team and I are teaching English and talking about Jesus' great Love to children in Kolomyia, Ukraine. It's located about 7 hours outside of the nation's capitol, near the Polish/Romanian border, and it's the most pictureque, nostalgic European town you could invision--with hopelessly impossible, pothole-filled-roads and dogs and goats and roosters everywhere, with cute, old people riding bikes through all of the rain! {as well as the most amazing, fresh-baked bread...can we talk about that? Carbohydrates, here I come.}
All in all, teaching has still proven to be more of a learning experience than I first thought. We had to start out by guaging where all of the student's English levels are, break down all language and cultural barriers, and figure out ways to teach that are interesting, entertaining, and efficient for the hour of time we're allotted with each class. TOUGH STUFF! {but I love it, and wouldn't have it any other way}.
It's amazing how music, rhymes, and pictures are mostly universal, and how a good game of "Cherades" can help any questionable situation.
I'll be sharing photos from inside the classroom soon, but for now, here are few photos from life in Ukraine so far!
A sweet Ukrainian woman we met on the street. She wanted us to take her back to America with us, which is totally possible, because she is SO petite.
"The Red Dragon", our car for the month that 4 of us squeeze into, while the rest of us take turns riding the bus into town to teach. Tolic, the man driving, is our ministry host and a pastor here in the area. His church family and real family have already accepted us into their hearts and homes. Wonderful people!
Some of that AMAZING bread I was telling you about.
Simon, our mischievous house-cat. He likes to steal your food.
A sweet baby from within our church family.
It's my goal to get a photo with a baby in every country! Just love 'em.
Time to unpack my back-pack and get back to lesson-planning and logistics work!
Know that I'm thinking of you and praying for God's goodness to enrich each of your lives, whether I know you or not.
And you should all visit Ukraine one day if you haven't.
I AM SERIOUS!
p.s.-spoiler alert: I'm once again on a new team, for no other reason except that God changes things and raises up new leaders. I'm so excited to get to know these women and their hearts even better. World, meet Team Break Forth!
From left to right: Stacy, Kelly, Lynnsey, Me, Casey, Alys, & Jen.
{photo taken in Bucharest, at our 4 month Debrief}
I AM BLOWN AWAY BY GOD'S GOODNESS THROUGH YOU ALL!
this is me, completely amazed/dumbfounded.
{in case you were wondering.}
Short Story:
It was only 9 short months ago that raising $15,500 seemedimpossible: in all honesty, the thought of it made me sick, and satan's lies almost stopped me from working as hard as I did to get out here into the Nations.
But I am a testament to each of you that ALL things are possible through Christ. {yes, even monetary things that seem petty. He has His hand on it ALL}
If all works out, I will soon only be about $100 away from being FULLY FUNDED.
Sometimes, my pride gets the best of me, and I feel like saying, "Okay, you've given enough--you can stop now!" {haha...} But as God humbles me every time, I'm reminded that you give out of the overflow of your hearts, and it means so much to me as it furthers His Kingdom.
In conclusion, I'm so grateful I could cry, and I know God will give back to each of you a double portion and more.
HUGS & TEARS FROM UKRAINE!
p.s.-I'll let you know when i reach my full support, so those of you who have money automatically drafted from your bank accounts can discontinue your drafts, or just continue to give via PayPal to my personal account for my plane ticket home at the end of The Race.
Long time no talk!
You may be asking yourself why I've been so busy or unintentional, and I do have a few answers for you.
God is doing GRANDE things out here on the field, and I'm not about to apolgize for Him for that.
Our time in Honduras wrapped up about 10 days ago, and we've been making the long trek to the next region of the world we'll be ministering in.
I haven't been at the top of my game in the health-department, so I have been laying low and trying to rest as we transition into all God has in store for us here in Romania, working on a farm, trying to speak Romanian {much more difficult than Spanish, in case you were wondering}, and doing lots of construction on homes for orphans and their adoptive families. I'll tell you more about all that goodness later, including team changes once again!
BUT, TO CATCH YOU UP ON OUR FINAL DAYS AT OUR AMAZING MINISTRY IN HONDURAS....
Here goes.
After becomming more acustom to how rough and ragged life can be in Honduras, and how life is so precious and often times can appear ugly on the outside {see my previous blog, "Garbage for a Bed"}, we started to get more glimpses inside of the hearts of the kids we were working with at Zion's Gate Ministry--the kids who once lived in those dumps, or on the streets; the kids whose life-long ambition was to reek havoc and become a gangster--to steal, cheat, lie, and kill their way through life.
These are the very kids I fell in love with. They look harmless, right?
{From Left to Right: Carlos, Luis, Christopher, Fenny, Fernando, & Ariel. You could always find "The Gringos" Jen & Elijah around the boys, loving on them, playing games, practicing patience.}
Do you see their smiles {well, everyone except Carlos, who is "too cool for school"}? Those smiles come from the love they're receiving now that they're off the streets and away from their hard lives. They now live on the property of Tony Diene, an American guy who sold everything he owned and moved to Honduras 5 years ago. He has a mission of going into the dark, scary colonies that no one else wants to, and sharing the love of Christ with the young ones he encounters as he works to raise support and awareness, all to serve them as a father and provide them with a place to live free of charge...except for a few stipulations: he requires them to go to school, work around the property, help missionaries like us with our physical labor as we come in for the month, and start taking responsibility as boys who will someday become men...and possibly even fathers themselves.
{Fernando is a cheese-ball, and loves to make popcorn and bake cookies! I predict he'll be a chef in the near future.}
{Hermon thinks he's a gangster, with the rolled up pant-legs and bandana. Praise God there are now better things in store for his future. He also likes to smooch everyone on the cheek, Central-American-style. Watch out!}
{Luis is mischievous, and purposely calls you by the wrong name. But he has a big, loving heart. Clearly.}
It was hard at times, but Tony really taught us all we needed to know about these boy's hearts: they each needed love, because they've never received it, and they act the way they do sometimes, because they've never had the positive example. So it in turn encouraged us to step up and be that example. I've never "parented" a teenage boy, but shoot dang, it was difficult!
{I think it's obvious who Tony is, and then there're the boys, Walter, Hermon, & Elijah and myself and Jo Linda, one amazing lady and my new co-logistics leader! We're having fun working together already.}
{Some of the group working on the streets of Los Pinos, the most dangerous colony in the whole capitol. But where some of the biggest hearts we met came from, and where Tony makes a point to go.}
So as we loved on the boys, we also set out to beautify and improve upon the property, and learned once again that language has no barrier when God and Love are involved.
So we watched as walls came down, both literally on the property, and figuratively, in these boys' hearts.
Here are a few more photos of the amazing flowerbeds, rooms, and relationships that were built.
{That's me on the school-desk, sanding the crap out of the spackled wall's of the building we "camped" in while chattin' it up with my bro, Chase}
{In the zone, sketching out our new prayer/wailing wall on the property. Design is what I love, so this was a fun project for me to help contribute to!}
And for more photos of the kids and the work we did, visit my squadmate,
Robin's amazing photography blog.
{I promise, you'll scroll for days when you get a glimpse of her talent...}
Well, that about wraps it up. Except for this:
God came for the murderer and the thief, the widow and the orphan, the opressed and the depressed, the single young mother, and the suicidal father, and for you and me. I've always known that, but God has honed in on that truth in my heart all the more this past month, and I'm grateful for the reminder.
Next time you come into contact with a gangster, remember that he's a boy with a heart, in need of a good home, with feelings and emotions just like you and me. They're children like we once were, and they love to help bake cookies and build tree-houses. And hard as you try not to love him like your own brother, I promise that you inevitably will.
This past week marked a huge turning point in my time on the World Race.
I had the privilege, {though it was initially hard to consider it that} to visit the main garbage dump in Tegucigalpa, Honduras, the country’s large, developing capitol. The people there greeted us with what looked like black ski masks on their faces, swarming around us like bees as our van pulled up. I was terrified. We were told not to take any of our belongings, such as cameras or purses, but I opted to take my water bottle; even that seemed like a luxury item. I knew we’d need water though, because the climate was cool and dry, but quickly increasing in temperature as the minutes passed by. We said a prayer with Pastor Hermando, who has been coming to the dump for years to minister to people and was to lead our trip that day. We piled out of the van as a heard of “gringos”, afraid to get too far from one another.
I couldn’t help but instinctively hold my breath. The stench was enough to knock you over. I hadn’t eaten that morning, otherwise I probably would’ve thrown up, but it took all of my strength not to do so as I choked back the gags, beginning to feel my stomach twist into knots. I know that sounds horrible, but it's the truth of the matter. It was the craziest place I've ever been.
Here’s the thing, though; the reality of it all:
human beings live here.
People have lived here for years. Babies are born here and never leave here. Women are outnumbered, and the men in ski masks are wearing them not only for intimidation, but to shield their faces from the wind, dirt, and to keep the awful smell from entering their nostrils. I’m not sure that anyone could ever adapt or get used to it, no matter how long one lived there. My skin curled as I saw hundreds of huge, black vultures circling the sky around us, fending for their own lives as they dove like missiles into the heaps of what once was, items people had mindlessly tossed, items that now became food and shelter to thousands. I saw hundreds of cows, and many homeless dogs wandering. Mange and disease doesn't describe their conditions properly. They were barely living. The entire city of over 4 million people’s garbage goes to this one location.
Imagine it. Just for a moment. Imagine the rotting, the intense decay that is constantly going on amongst these people that call this place “home”.
One thing I’m learning on the Race is that home truly is where your heart is, and that can be so many places all at once. It’s true; I’ve laid my head to rest in many places that have become like home to me. Unlike me, however, many of these people have no choice; they are here out of desperation, necessity, or a last resort.
But after the initial anxiety that came with it all, God opened my heart and said,
"Suzy, these are your brothers and sisters. Love them."
{if i look shocked, it's because I was.}
And so with that, all that i could do was pummel the metaphorical walls that society has put up and say "no" to fear and trembling. I dove in, and reached out for their hands, for hugs from the dirtiest people I've ever met. We exchanged names and smiles, and we started to speak, me in my broken spanish, of course.
{this guy spoke pretty good english, and collected metals from the dump that he would then trade in for money in the city each day.}
But what happened next was a shock, though almost inevitable. Music was the greatest weapon we had, and as we began to sing and dance, people flocked from all over the dump to where we were, surrounding us in one large circle. Large pieces of cardboard became drums. Plastic bags became synthesizers. And these people became my family.
{brit and I danced and sang with this woman. we prayed for her and her family. and then they exchanged sunglasses. she was so sweet.}
it's amazing how beautiful the views are from here, too, beyond all the garbage was life and green mountains and vallies. I know this will be one of Jesus' first stops when He comes back. Restoration is coming here and I just know it'll be made new. While this may all seem like a bunch of seemingly empty and poetic words, written by a naive young woman from the middle of Missouri, God is teaching me huge lessons about love and the lack thereof.
Love is a choice. Love is simple. Love can come to us in the strangest of ways, when we least expect it. And if God is love, and God is in us, then doesn't that propel us forward to...love...?
So if "home" is where the heart is, I would say my home is now amongst heaps of garbage, with some of the most beautiful people I've ever had a chance to meet.
And in so many words and images, I think that's all that I really wanted to say.
allow me to introduce you to my new team, Team Awaken.
{sometimes we're classy}
{other times, not so much.}
that's right, you can't take us anywhere.
but God has been doing some big things on the Race so far, including changing up a few teams. ours was one of them. but when some seasons end, new ones begin, and new families are birthed. i'm thankful for the newness, and though it's taken some adjusting and a lot of intentional communication, we fit. while it's hard not to dwell on the past or wonder what God was doing in all of that, things are set into place, and we're pressing on toward the goal and prize which God has for each of us. together. and that feels really good. do you wanna get to know us a bit better?
well here's the low-down, from left to right:
suzy {suz, suzy Q, etc.}: well, if you're visiting my blog and you know me, you'll know that's me. i'm the tannest i've been in a while. thank God for the equator {sometimes}.
robin {robs}: ahhh!!! she isour newest, loudest, and very loving and giggly team member who is a serious photograph badass! she's a pro--wait till you see some of her work. she's helped usher in this sense of newness and rawness that our team was in the midst of searching for, and we're so thankful for her!
naomi {nomes}: this is one Texan you'd love to know and dwell with. she's hilarious, and throws down a serious air-guitar when performing dramas and skits for school-aged kids here in central america. she's a free spirit who loves adventure--we call her our "adreneline junkie"!
kelly {kell bell}: is a powerful woman who loves government legislation. so much so, that God has opened doors for her to volunteer here in Honduras' Congress. WHAT! she's also italian and thus likes that type of food. she's spunky and a super hard-worker, and she has the weirdest laugh ever. it's great. she also showers a lot, which is great.
brittany {britters, b bake, etc.}: this woman has been brought up as a leader for our team, but has been prepared by God for this moment her whole life, unbeknownst to her until now. i'm grateful for her discerning spirit and words that can cut you deeply {in the best way ever}, and her ability to laugh at the small stuff. don't ever challenge her in a game of basketball, because you will go DOWN.
amanda kay {manda bear}: this lady is a gem. she's not only our new, saavy team treasurer, but she has dreams and visions from the Lord that will blow you away. I would not be surprised if she came back to Central America, because God has already done immense things in her heart here. she's not ashamed of sleeping with a teddy bear, and she loves relentlessly. she gets me and thinks i'm funny, which is weird...but great.
well that about wraps it up! God is Awakening our eyes and our hearts to things unseen, and it's such a big part of each of our eternal journies {hence our amazing new name}. We can't wait to experience this year as it unfolds more and more. learn how you can "adopt us" on the left-hand side of this page--but if you don't, it's cool, because we're already family. truly. it's been wonderful.
still...it's tempting, right?
do it. :)
i'm thankful for these women, more than i can say.
in Christ's Love,
suzy
p.s.-more stories and photos from Honduras to come soon!
Up HIGH!
Yeah, it's true. So far, it's been so good.
We've been at our squad Debrief for the last 5 days, and it was just what our spirits needed to rest and relax. i'm really grateful for the time to reflect, draw near to the Lord, and process what has gone on in our ministry and our hearts over the last 2 months with the help of our squad leaders and phemonimal coaches {and spiritual parents}, Randy & Betsy Garmon. They've been such a breath of fresh air, and I'm already anticipating their return in 2 months for more debrief. Talk about people whose feet you could sit at for hours and just listen to. Shoot dang.
In the midst of many changes taking place on our team such as new leadership and the loss of one team member, we've also gained so much. We've gained a new hope, a new peace, and some fresh perspective. And...we've even gained a new team-member. There are many things springing forth, which is foreshadowing the new team name and atmosphere we're about to take on. Taking the time to cast visions over our next few months, and to really prepare for what's ahead has created an anticipation that i can't quite put into words. all I can say is stay tuned for more on this. it's gonna be GOOD. {"& good, and good, and man, it's sooo good!"--as Mac, our hilarious and big-hearted squad leader would say}.
Honduras will be a country of a lot of love, laughter, and more language learning as we dive into the lives of kids being taken in off of the streets--the kind of kids no one else wanted to "deal with", but our ministry host, Tony, took in with open-arms. We'll also minister to people in the capitol city's main dump, where people search high and low for food just to get by and provide for their families, as well visit prisions and hospitals to draw near to the people who need an extra loving touch, or song, or just a smile. Jesus is in their midst already, and He's inviting us in to help.
That's an honor.
And it's an honor to be here, to be used, and to really "press into the mess", as i like to say.
I'm learning that only I can show up for my life and walk in my story. only I can be me.
It's simple, but profound.
HIGH FIVE TO YOU, HONDURAS.
You've already been swell, and I can't wait to see what's ahead!
{i ride in the back of trucks and it's generally pleasant. this isn't the case for most people who travel far and wide, crammed in like sardines, just to be sweaty and dusty for church}
{Continued from the previous post…}
My team and I had the opportunity to visit a nearby village to deliver food and hugs and to let the people know about the available services being held at the church we are partnering with this month. People were waiting for us on the side of the road like a flock of sheep when our truck pulled up, and we hopped out into the dry, dusty streets, timid about what to say. They were taken aback by my paleness, some offering up their umbrellas to shield my fragile flesh from the sun. They were fanning themselves, wiping sweat, shielding their eyes so they could look at us. In our timidity, though, we prayed, and it was translated so they could understand. We invited them to church, and told them of the multiple times and dates they could attend. And all I could do was hope they would show up.
What happened later that same evening completely floored me.
They showed up.
They came to the church service, after traveling far and wide in the heat, after bathing with buckets of water from their make-shift “bathrooms”, putting on their sunday best, and walking for an our at least, or riding in the back of a truck, packed in like sardines.
I nudged our ministry host, Juan Carlos, and said, “They came! They’re here! Can you believe it?” and he paused for a moment, looking at me as if I were somewhat ignorant, adding in his best attempt at English, “They come every week. Some of them four times a week. They’ve been coming, and they wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
And that’s when it hit me: God doesn’t need me at all. And I’m foolish to think He does.
These beautiful people journey far and wide to a place that is not easily accessible in the slightest, because it is there that they find the Hope they have longed for. And they’ve been coming long before I invited them, maybe even for years. It really opened my eyes to see that this was the highlight of their week—hearing the Good News time and time again never gets old or stale here—and it’s obvious, as they are pressing in to hear more and more. They don’t take it for granted like I do—or like most Americans tend to. They don’t try to hide in fear or shame, but instead raise their hands in worship, and raise their hearts as they cry out tears of prayer or mourning before the Lord, unashamed of what others will think. Fanning the sweat and flies off, standing up as the Word of God is read aloud, and bowing to bended knee on the hard cement floors, they come willingly, anxiously anticipating what Goodness abounds there.
As I looked around, it hit me hard: I take this for granted. Oh my gosh, I take God for granted—so much so that all I could do at that point was repent.
David Platt puts it like this: “This is the question that often haunts me when I stand before a crowd of thousands of people in the church I pastor. What if we take away the cool music and the cushioned chairs? What if the screens are gone and the stage is no longer decorated? What if the air conditioning is shut off and the comforts are removed? Would His Word still be enough for his people to come together?”
This, friends, is my greatest fear: that His word might not be enough to make me come.
What would it look like to have to work so hard for our faith, to have to travel in the greatest heat of the day regardless of how we felt, or regardless of what we looked like, to show up with an earnest eagerness to hear the Word of God, and let it dwell in our hearts?
What would it look like to have to meet underground, in a secret, protected place because the very mention of Jesus’ name could cost us our lives? What if the glamour was gone, and all that was left was a true risk?
Would we still go?
Would we still gather in His name?
This is not rhetorical. I’m asking you to answer here and now.
I asked myself too, and my greatest fear surfaced as I repented on that day, and all I could confess was,
“No, probably not.”
Gosh, that sucks to admit. It sucks to see my true heart before the Father and know that it’s no good. Nothing about it is any good.
And yet He makes me right and whole. His love calls me out from my doubt and puts me back together again. His love tears me up and reconciles all the junk in my heart, all of the lies and untruths, all of the norms I’ve settled for with pure contentment. He changes my views of what is actually important. He makes me good.
You see, He’s calling me up to greater things. To global purpose things. Things that have nothing to do with the “American Dream”. Things that take “cajones”, for lack of a better term. I’ll say it—time to grow a pair! And transparently, I’m still learning what it looks like to not “settle”. It’s a definite process, but one that I’m open to.
Richard Rohr puts it like this:
“we do not think ourselves into new ways of living; we live ourselves into new ways of thinking.”
I guess it’s time to start living, huh? Maybe that’s where the change will be ignited in you and me.
Even as I write these words to you, I’m listening to these lyrics being sung in my ears: “Lord, I wanna yearn for You, I wanna burn with passion over You, and only You.”
{Shane & Shane}
What does that even look like? And if that is a true yearning of mine, then it’ll change everything.
Radically.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I suppose I'll close with this, because it's good. and good things are worth sharing.
“If Jesus is who he says he is, and if his promises are as rewarding as the Bible claims they are, then we may discover that satisfaction in our lives and success in the church are not found it what our culture deems most important, but in radical abandonment to Jesus." {David Platt}
p.s.-as a side-note, in order to stay on the field, i'm still in need of $1,300 by April 1st. please consider donating a gift of any amount on the support link to the left TODAY. i'm so grateful for you, and that you are making this a radical reality for me. thank you!
{Disclaimer--These next 2 blogs are a bit lengthier than normal, but totally worth your while. Do read on.}
My shoe-lace gets caught, I get tripped up, and fall down an escalator in a crowded building, with people bustling about. You know: the ugly, catastrophic fall where everyone stops, gasps so hard the air in the room is sucked out, and all stare directly at you, wondering who will be the first to ask if you’re okay?
In all honesty, that’s already happened to me. I’m clumsy, so it was bound to. And it wasn’t all that bad {except for the fact that I bruise really easily}. Hello black and blue, and a dose of bruised pride too.
But an even greater fear still is settling. Settling for untruths from people and from satan. Settling for the norm. Settling for what society deems as important or necessary. Just…settling.
I know I’ve already begun to settle for the “American dream”. I’ve let myself become comfortable and complacent with what society says my life should look. Worse still is that I’ve let society define for me the way church should look,the way church should act, and how church is so accessible and easy to “get into”. Not that it’s some secret society or club, but very few churches are making membership a key priority these days. They’re okay with people coming in and out, because they’re more concerned with quantity rather than quality. And I know that I could pick a corner {any corner, really, because in America, churches are erected faster than most other buildings or organizations}, and step into that place on any given Sunday morning, afternoon, or evening {because congregations are growing so quickly, we now need to have 5 services to accommodate our agenda, pallet, and preference}. I could stare down at my cell phone and pretend I’m preoccupied with texting someone, grab some free coffee without glancing up from my Splenda packet, fill up a seat with my consumerist self-motives, jot down notes quickly like I’m back in college again, and slip out, completely unnoticed, without having said a word to anyone, but getting refueled just enough to get me through my next stressful week of work and life.
In all honesty, this is a reality for me, or at least it used to be. Before I started going to a church in the Westport area of Kansas City, church was, self-admittedly, something I felt obligated to do, a game to play, something to fill up the “Sunday” space in my Planner {because who loves an efficient, well-filled-out Planner? This lady does.}
But then I got a healthy dose of medicine that my soul needed. And longed for {if we’re still being real}.
The pastors at this church were different; they teach richly about what life with Jesus should & can look like, but they also challenged me a lot, and didn’t allow me to fall into the norm. As a matter of fact, what they did was so contrasting and almost contradicted what most people think churches should do: they encouraged people like me to get out. I’m serious—but they did so in the most humble, loving way possible, all the while encouraging me to stop taking up a seat that could be utilized by someone who truly wanted to gain something from the Lord, with pure motives and a zealous heart for the Gospel.
Looking back now, I think that challenge was a huge turning point for me. And I began to view church at face value—which is to say I began to see clearly, perhaps for the first time ever, that church is not confined to four walls and a concert each week; initially, The Church in the first century was created to be a group of people who were radically seeking to follow Jesus with all of their heart. The implications of that were vast and great; just take a look at the book of Acts, and you'll see what I'm talking about. Those implications were and have sense changed things drastically for the Kingdom of God.
So I took a step back and asked myself, “Suz, what are you really doing here?” It was a humbling question, to say the least, but The Body of Christ was challenging me to really dig in and invest in something greater than myself, regardless of the cost or risk. {My business mind is quickly drifting to “Any investment requires great risk; but great risk often yields great reward.”} So like with any good investment, I was finally ready to “buy-in”, so to speak.
Being on The World Race has solidified in me this great need within American Churches. The church is not a building--it's a group of people who are willing to go deep and go far and wide to the ends of the earth to share love. Or sit still and really pour into their surrounding community. The church isn't a destination or an end point. It's a means. Or it should be, right? I’ve been reading an amazing book that has been on my “To-Read List” for months now titled Radical: Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream, by pastor and author David Platt. I’m only on chapter three and it’s already changing something in me. David “challenges Christians to wake up, trade in false values rooted in the American dream, and embrace the notion that each of us is blessed by God for a global purpose” {Wess Stafford}.
I’m only on month 2 of my Race, and this change is beginning to take root in all that I’ve witnessed and experienced in regards to church in other regions of the world. Being in the beautiful, but sweltering hot country of El Salvador has already proven to be a tougher month than last. I sweat when we only walk 50 yards with our small packs on. I sweat sitting down in the shade. I sweat when I merely think about sweating. It’s stupid, really, but we are in the bosom of the equator, so what did I expect?
