I’ve done a lot of scrubbing this month. (And the Lord has done quite a bit of scrubbing on my heart as well).
Tonight I was scrubbing shoes. You know sometimes you have the opportunity to replace dirty old shoes and sometimes you have the privilege of scrubbing them until they are clean. I appreciate those clean shoes that shine like new ones but have the comfort and flexibility of being worn in by trails and adventures.
I think our hearts work much the same. Sometimes God allows us to leave difficult circumstances, even if it means that we stay dirty (or is it us that run away?). And sometimes He asks of us to stick it out and be scrubbed. It is however only after that scrubbing process that we can be both beautiful and useful.
Maybe I’ve only started to really process my journey through Africa in 2012 during these last two months. I’ve changed. There is a rawness in my heart that I pray never goes away. Yes it is difficult and many times it hurts, but it keeps me real. It keeps me connected to the hurting of the world. It keeps me dependent on Jesus. It reminds me that I am a much bigger mess, than I would like to admit. It reminds me of Love that set me free from having to be perfect, a new found freedom in knowing that I cannot live up to the standard; I cannot and I don’t have to.
This is not an escape route, we call this Grace. But it feels that like privileges, Grace also bring an expected responds. Experiencing Grace moves us into a certain direction.
Once again this year I’ve been confronted by the very poor and the very rich and where I fit in. I’ve noticed that both the very rich and many of the very poor have a sense of entitlement. The rich, being entitled to their things because they have worked for it, also tends to promote a sense of entitlement to respect and favour based on their status – often determined by what they own. The poor often display an entitlement to gifts and alms, because they have not had the opportunity to work for things.
Then I’ve been confronted with my own (and others like me) sense of entitlement based on my sacrifice. We make sacrifices, because we believe that God has asked that of us. And yet we then expect a “thank you” and continual gestures of gratitude from the people that benefit from our sacrifice. Yet it was not them that asked me for it, but I that offered. I have noticed this phenomenon in many spheres of my life, but none so disturbing than in my “service to God”. In all honesty, this is difficult. If my culture has formed certain habits - which I have come to know as basic essentials of living (think 3 meals a day, a bed, a hot shower, chocolate, good coffee, communication etc) - does that mean I am entitled to these things when I live in another culture? I call this the war between sustainability and sacrifice…
Or should I call it selfish disillusionment?
No intended judgment here, but serious question indeed.
Most deep routed in our human heart is possibly the “right” to be right. There are many names for this (self-assertiveness, logic, common sense, pride, self-rightousness etc.), but essentially we all feel entitled to be right when we are right.
The past few months I have watched good friends walking the very difficult path of reconciliation after an affair in their broken marriage. I’ve been walking with missionary friends who greatly struggle with disunity in their organization. I have thought on my own relationships – mostly those where I messed up and was too proud to see it. And I have concluded that my reality of what is right and your reality of what is right is not necessarily a matter of one right and one wrong, but of difference. When perceived intentions and received communication differ from real intentions and sent communication, we move into different perspectives, hurts, emotions and belief systems. Then right and wrong becomes fuzzy and messy. My truth differs from your truth, and my right to be right is challenged. Usually this ends in a deadlock and a big heart breaking, door slamming bang.
In my team of last year I’ve experienced how the disunity starts to hurt more than the fact that you think I am wrong. I believe in a broken marriage this is even more true. Would it be possible for me to relinquish my right to be right for the sake of relationship? “You don’t have to be wrong to say you’re sorry”, I wise person said.
I’ve had the privilege of hearing that couple testify of raw honesty and the amazing miracle of reconciliation. Both of them had to be wrong to make conversation possible, let alone reconciliation. They humbly came to the table and the Lord did the rest, painfully but skillfully.
When I bring this into my world of missions and travelling to different cultures, am I willing to live by the same principle? When there is so much more at stake than just inter-personal relationships, Am I willing to be wrong for the sake of the Gospel? Will I sacrifice my concept of right and entitlement (aka my culture), for the sake of what Jesus wants to do through relationships?
Isn’t that the essence of Grace? Jesus, who knew no sin, became sin and paid the price for it, so that we can be reconciled to God. Could I be so foolish as to think my life could work any other way?
Is it possible for me to sacrifice who I have learned to be? No, by no means it is. But, once again, by God’s Grace it is. Jesus modeled the way. He understands the struggle.
I am called to follow. And surrender. All.