face time

So, for a while now it has been my goal to be the same person in every place; to stop putting on an identity which fits the role of the moment, and quit playing games. I got very tired of it, I was bad at it, and it never served its intended purpose anyhow: to make me feel like a legit member of a group when I felt like I didn't have the appropriate credentials. But, old habits die hard.

One of the things I miss most about being in Rwanda is that every day, since I had no idea what to expect (being in totally unfamiliar territory, both literally and socially), I didn't have to put on a face, or a hat, or a role, and there was no TIME, even if I'd wanted to. We knew the goals for the day, and the one's that materialized, and every one on our teams just rolled up our metaphorical sleeves daily and worked it out. There was no space for arranging your face so that you will look like you know what you are doing. In Rwanda, your face is your face. I absolutely loved it.

But here, it's a different story. At work, in relationships, and in service, I generally have time to figure out how I'm expected to behave. In the past, this required a measure of skill, because of all I had to lose. (Too honest for you?)

There's a great song by Switchfoot called This Is Your Life, and it goes like this:

This is your life, are you who you want to be?

This is your life, is it everything you dreamed that it would be when the world was younger and you had everything to lose.

What I love about that last line is it almost pokes fun at how much we had to lose when we were younger...because we thought that was so true. If I don't act the part, no one will like me. If they find out that I am X-Y-Z (whatever), then it's all over. Curtain falls. Now that we are older and wiser, we know that its never really over - when we are revealed. And living revealed lives is so much easier! Isn't it?

It actually is, but, for me, it means that I'm ok with this face. By face, I mean the identity I reveal. That's because I am bought and I am safe. In Christ, my forever face(my identity, my soul) is not just acceptable, well recieved, good to go. I am more than fine because I am in Christ.

What is left to fear?

(Just reminding myself.)

picture this

August 13th, I am sitting on the floor of a hospital in Kirinda, Rwanda, surrounded by laughing children who have no earthly reason for their joy, except that some random Muzungu (white people) showed up here today, out of nowhere. We’re playing with a rubber ball.

When I first became interested in letting myself be fascinated with global outreach, it was terrifying to me. I believe that God grabbed my heart while I was praying for the first team that went to Rwanda last summer. As I asked that God would guide them, strengthen them and protect them, my own worldview began to shift. I followed the invitation to begin reading the books on the resource list that they posted online at Manchester On The Move, and God led me gently into other books and other outrageous facts I’d somehow never seen before. I was kind of shocked that I felt a compulsion to care – and I was ashamed, because I have walked with God for over half my life. I never really wanted to change the world before, but that’s because I never really saw it laying in pieces at my feet.

At first, I really had to climb over my own shame at having never cared enough for God’s people in other places. It’s Not About Me became my new mantra, as God healed my self-centered sadness and forgave me again and again, until I trusted that my guilt was just a crutch I was having trouble laying down. But after that, it was obvious to me that I was going to be heading to Rwanda. I began to pray this simple prayer: Please let me see Your people with Your eyes.

One month ago today in Kirinda, we journeyed over to visit the local hospital and pray with the patients who would let us. They are patients or children of patients at a hospital which may be the best place they’ve ever lived, or it may be the last place. After about 4 hours of praying bed by bed, holy soul by holy soul, we were spent. Our team began to gather in a hallway in preparation for catching our van ride home to our guesthouse and perhaps a meal, but no one was hungry, and no one was really ready to go. We were all overwhelmed by what we had just experienced. Our minds had no answers. But LOVE acts. Some times its all that love can do.

I sat down on the floor and took out a rubber ball that I brought with me, hoping for a chance to play. I started just bouncing it to myself, and kids just started coming to watch me. Then I bounced it to one little boy, and his face became radiant. The more we played the more kids joined in, and the darkness fell, but the joyful squealing of fun grew louder and louder.

This memory I’ll hold for EVER is not about what we did for them. Why did God put me there? To give me His eyes for His people. I guess I was there to pray and to play! My heartbreak mixed with their hope. It was not ‘the Muzungu to the rescue’, and it may change nothing for those kids. But I was changed. God let me love in a new language, and His love is never ever wasted.

(as shared Vision Sunday, Manchester Christian Church, 9/13/09, edited by Stef Cassetto)