May we reflect His glory as we participate in His nature!
-Heidi Baker, Always Enough p.61
Words and phrases come to me all throughout the day, getting in the way of the mundane occupations of life: while I’m teaching, while I’m driving, while I’m vacuuming. My hands are too busy and as we were taught beginning the moment we first stepped into a classroom as malleable 5-year olds, I am programmed to put them aside for a more convenient time, dismissing them as they so sweetly and sincerely present themselves, “Sophie, please think about me, I am a good idea! Please write me down, I am an important thought! Please draw me, I am a lovely picture.” Many years of socialization has taught me to disdain anything that thwarts absolute efficiency. I am busy getting somewhere, getting something done. If I can’t check off at least 5 items (I can just imagine some people’s eyes bulging horrified at the thought of only accomplishing five things on any given day) on my to-do list every day, I don’t feel okay. The enemy wraps his bony fingers around my emotions as much as I allow. His shrill nettlesome voice says, “You didn’t do enough; you are insignificant today!”
So it’s easy to tell ourselves there’s no room for creativity or exploration or art or poetry or reflection. We put off our spiritual homework, our emotional nurturing, our joy in His presence day after day until two or three weeks later, we realize we’ve condemned ourselves to unneeded isolation, reduced ourselves somehow. I think I am speaking to those people who need to get creative to feel free or connect or center down. I suspect not everyone feels their spirituality is enmeshed with artistic expression. And also, maybe not all creative people feel their creativity has anything intrinsically to do with the spirit.
I just feel a little remorse about forgetting so much that’s happened in the past few weeks. A phrase that appeared at an inconvenient time no matter how pretty was shrugged off and now it’s lost. Anyone who loves to write should keep a cheap notebook around at all times just for scribbling things down, even if it means pulling over on the street for a minute and running late to your next appointment. I know, being late is a sin in our society but you know what’s at stake. I can bear someone being mad at me if it means I get to retain whatever bubbled up.
Anyway, I shouldn’t spend all my time wrinkling my nose at my weaknesses. Regret is such a useless and crippling emotion.
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Resurrection power prayer… that’s a phrase I thought of three weeks ago, the only one I didn’t forget. But I forget what exactly I thought about it. What about resurrection power prayer?
Maybe I just thought to myself that I want to know how to pray one.
I have been getting fried this last month. God has been teaching me things about the world I was previously unwilling to accept. Like infecting me with thanksgiving for the concrete under my feet, the plumbing, getting to teach young people how to read and write, getting to teach young people at an early age how to appreciate cultural diversity and talk about race and education and cultural myths. I was so touched the other day when I went to an after-hours clinic for the uninsured and was for the first time in my life tempted to write a yelp review.
I also began to feel so privileged to teach my 3-year olds preschool bible study class at my mom’s church when for many months I was doing it uncheerfully. Recently, I started feeling so much earnest about teaching them the things of Jesus. I must teach them more! More! Yao told me once that a missionary had read to a group of young children in China Max Lucado’s story about the Wemmicks, “You are Special,” and after the story was read, the children all at once began wailing, crying out to God to be saved for they have never heard such a thing about God before, that He loves them. How did I spend these past many months without telling each of them full in their faces, “Baby, you are so so loved by the Father,” though I sing about God’s being the only one to look me full in the face in secret? These things don’t come to me sometimes because I make assumptions, that I ought to behave when I’m volunteering at a Southern Baptist conservative Korean institution, whatever that means!
Humbled I am, because amazingly about half of my funding for my trip to Harvest School came from people from that church. One of my sheep class student’s mother, young and beautiful, sent a small envelope with Jenny to class. I opened the card later at home to see a beautiful message, “When I heard you were going to Mozambique to serve the children, I was so touched then also envious…” And a large check. I was floored. I passed the card to my mother who promptly began to cry, saying, “How is a person like this sent to us? How!?!?” in Korean. I thought that this seemed like a woman who will get to go to Africa one day to serve the children. Because she sowed into the work, God will turn it all around in time!
As the money began to pour in, to be honest, I began to feel more and more worthless. God, I don’t think I can do this! I don’t think I can go! It was a strange reaction. Yao texted, “Gasp! Quick, pray in tongues and say 10 things that are true about God!”
But another side of me prays a contradicting prayer: Take me with you this time! Don’t make me miss you this time! Far be it from me to turn down this chance to go!
By grace we can afford to believe He is not looking for someone who is so qualified, just someone who is willing, especially willing to surrender. Some days, I remember all the nasty little things I’ve done to people throughout my life, the worst things, the uncharitable thoughts, selfish intentions, and calloused words, and believe for a moment that I should be prohibited from taking Jesus’ name. But we cannot wait to be better or more lovable to follow Him, because following Him is what makes us whole, gives us the taste of joy in His presence, and makes us think, “I’d rather not like to be wretched anymore. I think I choose Joy!”
Off to the Village of Joy!
