Drink Deep
My first trip to Kenya forever left a mark on my heart. Many people from that trip will always be dear to me and cherished in a special way. But one of the best things from the trip, hands down, is that it didn't just last the two short weeks I was there. That trip is ongoing, moving, breathing...that trip is LIVING.
When our Savior said that he is the Living Water...maybe I know a little bit more of all he means by that because of Kenya....
One of the things our team did while we were there was visit the sick in their homes. We walked around the community and took food to those who physically couldn't leave their house or even their beds. We saw people in many stages, with several types of illnesses. Almost all of them had AIDS. Most were immobile. Some had additional sicknesses, too--Cancer, Malaria, Tuberculosis. It truly is heartbreaking to think that if they can't leave their bed, they can't work for their livelihood. They can't take their children/grandchildren to school. They can't make their own food. They can't step outside for fresh air. They just can't.
And so, we prayed.
We prayed with these children of our God and we brought hope to them.
Hope is eternal, hope is ever-available, but honestly, hope is quite often hard to find in this world. In the midst of suffering, hope is hard to hold on to. Hope slips out of our grasps and we are left desperately clinging to empty air..
For the sick of that community, our focus was to reignite the HOPE in their lives, once again firming up their hold on that evasive sentiment. We wanted them to know that they are not alone..ever. They are not suffering in vain; they are an important part of a greater story.
And they are loved.
We could only do these things with the presence of the Lord, and in His power because of His name.
Amen.
But.
I think something was felt and never voiced during those times when we blessed the Kenyan community. I think what was happening was a separation. There was an unseen boundary. A chasm caused by worlds of difference.
Speaking just for myself, I didn't know this variance existed at the time. It was only through the gradual work of the Living Water...the gentle lapping of the waves, the ever present conditioning through the Lord's plan, the molding and smoothing out of our life stones...only through that could I look back and see who existed then compared to who is available to the Lord now.
Back then, I went as a blessed American. I went to Kenya with my own struggles, of course, but I went with a life so abundant that the bluntness of the slums was astonishing to my spoiled eyes. I went with a heart full of love and intentions of the purest quality, yet the community of people ridden with sickness was mind-blowing. I went to a 3rd world country with an unconscious mindset of one whose life was "easy-livin' ", therefore my presence in itself would bring hope. Right?!
Yeah..that's right. My unchurned thoughts weren't wrong and they weren't bad. We ARE truly blessed here in America. We do belong to a grand land full of freedom and laughter, assets and grace. We have hospitals and medical-care out the wazoo. It's not common to encounter the terminally ill or daily witness the depth of poverty.
Although America is not immune to the shadows, we are blessed indeed!!
So what I was missing in my world of thoughts wasn't the obvious differences I just described. But rather, because of those differences it was easier to have compassion,
without empathy.
To have sympathy,
without humility.
To be fully a part of those people's lives,
and at the same time completely separated from them because it's not where or how I live.
There's that boundary. There's that chasm.
It was an accidental defensive mechanism that instinctively flipped on without my permission. The thinnest glass wall you can imagine slipped up between myself and those bedridden Kenyans that I dearly loved and earnestly prayed for.
Six months later.
I don't have to go to a 3rd world country to visit someone on their deathbed, to pray with the bedridden, to love on one of His own who is enduring an ultimate physical battle.
I only have to walk through the threshold of my own home.
My mom's battle has been our family's battle. We haven't wanted her to walk through this alone for a single second. Not only has she been courageous, touched others' hearts, and seen her Lord in more intimate ways than any of us could imagine, but her story has been our story. My faith has grown in ways that are often unexplainable. Although I never would have wished for these circumstances and the pain of the situation is real, the blessings are abundant as well.
If it's for His glory, I am for it.
Mom has now been bedridden for 4 months and she's fought with a stronger will than anyone I know, and we are waiting on her to be healed in the most magnificent way possible. And through that, I've been humbled. My little glass wall of separation has been utterly shattered. I will never again be able to separate my blessed life from the ill or the impoverished.
I now KNOW that Kenyan community in the most intimate of ways. I know more about their daily lives. I know more about their daily prayers. I know more about their physical needs. And I know so much more about their grasping for and clasping to hope. I know how hope can escape the strongest of clutches...and I also know how the Lord returns it, graciously and abundantly, through the goodness of His children of all races, countries, and life-walks.
The Living Water is constantly moving, weaving in and out, forming and reforming -- it's a stream steady as eternity, yet with a purpose of continually changing our hearts. Just like how one short trip can be an ongoing breath with consequences far beyond what any human could conjure up for themselves...
...it makes the world so much smaller; it makes our God so much bigger.
Amen.
God is good! This phase of life is crazy and exciting, with God showing his power beyond comprehension. As I prepare to head back to Kenya again this year (!), I pray specifically for the ill and the bedridden that I will be blessed to meet. I pray for all barriers to be completely broken and for God to work in grand ways that only He can. I pray for my new glass-less outlook. And I pray for my own mommy.
This Africa trip will be different. Maybe much more meaningful, certainly a chance to further relationships, ideally an opportunity to see life with a new set of eyes, and yep -- definitely different.
When our Savior said that he is the Living Water...maybe I know a little bit more of all he means by that because of Kenya....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One of the things our team did while we were there was visit the sick in their homes. We walked around the community and took food to those who physically couldn't leave their house or even their beds. We saw people in many stages, with several types of illnesses. Almost all of them had AIDS. Most were immobile. Some had additional sicknesses, too--Cancer, Malaria, Tuberculosis. It truly is heartbreaking to think that if they can't leave their bed, they can't work for their livelihood. They can't take their children/grandchildren to school. They can't make their own food. They can't step outside for fresh air. They just can't.
And so, we prayed.
We prayed with these children of our God and we brought hope to them.
Hope is eternal, hope is ever-available, but honestly, hope is quite often hard to find in this world. In the midst of suffering, hope is hard to hold on to. Hope slips out of our grasps and we are left desperately clinging to empty air..
For the sick of that community, our focus was to reignite the HOPE in their lives, once again firming up their hold on that evasive sentiment. We wanted them to know that they are not alone..ever. They are not suffering in vain; they are an important part of a greater story.
And they are loved.
We could only do these things with the presence of the Lord, and in His power because of His name.
Amen.
But.
I think something was felt and never voiced during those times when we blessed the Kenyan community. I think what was happening was a separation. There was an unseen boundary. A chasm caused by worlds of difference.
Speaking just for myself, I didn't know this variance existed at the time. It was only through the gradual work of the Living Water...the gentle lapping of the waves, the ever present conditioning through the Lord's plan, the molding and smoothing out of our life stones...only through that could I look back and see who existed then compared to who is available to the Lord now.
Back then, I went as a blessed American. I went to Kenya with my own struggles, of course, but I went with a life so abundant that the bluntness of the slums was astonishing to my spoiled eyes. I went with a heart full of love and intentions of the purest quality, yet the community of people ridden with sickness was mind-blowing. I went to a 3rd world country with an unconscious mindset of one whose life was "easy-livin' ", therefore my presence in itself would bring hope. Right?!
Yeah..that's right. My unchurned thoughts weren't wrong and they weren't bad. We ARE truly blessed here in America. We do belong to a grand land full of freedom and laughter, assets and grace. We have hospitals and medical-care out the wazoo. It's not common to encounter the terminally ill or daily witness the depth of poverty.
Although America is not immune to the shadows, we are blessed indeed!!
So what I was missing in my world of thoughts wasn't the obvious differences I just described. But rather, because of those differences it was easier to have compassion,
without empathy.
To have sympathy,
without humility.
To be fully a part of those people's lives,
and at the same time completely separated from them because it's not where or how I live.
There's that boundary. There's that chasm.
It was an accidental defensive mechanism that instinctively flipped on without my permission. The thinnest glass wall you can imagine slipped up between myself and those bedridden Kenyans that I dearly loved and earnestly prayed for.
And so, the Living Water said "Drink of me. Be filled. Be still. I am your God."
Six months later.
I don't have to go to a 3rd world country to visit someone on their deathbed, to pray with the bedridden, to love on one of His own who is enduring an ultimate physical battle.
I only have to walk through the threshold of my own home.
My mom's battle has been our family's battle. We haven't wanted her to walk through this alone for a single second. Not only has she been courageous, touched others' hearts, and seen her Lord in more intimate ways than any of us could imagine, but her story has been our story. My faith has grown in ways that are often unexplainable. Although I never would have wished for these circumstances and the pain of the situation is real, the blessings are abundant as well.
If it's for His glory, I am for it.
Mom has now been bedridden for 4 months and she's fought with a stronger will than anyone I know, and we are waiting on her to be healed in the most magnificent way possible. And through that, I've been humbled. My little glass wall of separation has been utterly shattered. I will never again be able to separate my blessed life from the ill or the impoverished.
I now KNOW that Kenyan community in the most intimate of ways. I know more about their daily lives. I know more about their daily prayers. I know more about their physical needs. And I know so much more about their grasping for and clasping to hope. I know how hope can escape the strongest of clutches...and I also know how the Lord returns it, graciously and abundantly, through the goodness of His children of all races, countries, and life-walks.
The Living Water is constantly moving, weaving in and out, forming and reforming -- it's a stream steady as eternity, yet with a purpose of continually changing our hearts. Just like how one short trip can be an ongoing breath with consequences far beyond what any human could conjure up for themselves...
...it makes the world so much smaller; it makes our God so much bigger.
Amen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This Africa trip will be different. Maybe much more meaningful, certainly a chance to further relationships, ideally an opportunity to see life with a new set of eyes, and yep -- definitely different.
For when you drink of the Living Water, you can never look back. Your life is forever changed.
Comments
Post a Comment