The interns here have started somewhat of a book club. When one person finishes a book it gets passed to the next person who passes the book they just finished on to another person. Anyway, a couple of days ago I started reading a book called Radical. I won’t ruin anything about it, but the general jest of it is about getting past the American dream and living radically for Christ even if that means living uncomfortably or giving up everything for your faith. The book gives so many examples (a few that really rocked me) of extremely radical faith. For me, this brought up an issue that I’ve had for a while, but for the past school year kind-of pushed to the back of my thoughts because of school work and just the busy-ness of life in general.
Aaaaand I’m not proud to say it, but it really is something that should have been a top priority and something I should have been working toward fixing all along. The issue is, am I ready and willing to give up everything in the name of Christ if it is asked of me? As bad as it is, if I’m being honest, I’d have to say no. At this point in my life, God feels somewhat intangible. That’s not to say that I’m at the point of turning from Him or doubting His existence, but because of that, it doesn’t feel to me that He alone would be enough to sustain me. I have relationships in my life that give me certain things that I feel that I “need” that I feel like God doesn’t give me. I talked to a few of the other interns about this last night, but its like I want to be able to have a conversation with God. I don’t want to just pray to him and then sit and search through His book trying to find the answer to whatever questions are on my heart. I want there to be someone that I talk to that instantly responds. This is where my closest relationships begin to feel like a necessity and where God seems to be inadequate. I realize God is the very definition of adequate. He is over-adequacy at its finest, but sometimes I just don’t feel it.
With all that said, last night and this morning I was feeling a little bit frustrated with Him. He just wasn’t making sense in so many ways. I had conveyed this frustration to the girls in the cabin (frustration about His purpose in creation, the possibility of predestination, the fact that He feels so distant, etc) and they had several responses, but two in particular stuck out to me. One of them said that sometimes when your attitude is like mine has been, it’s just hard to have a real conversation with God. Her solution was what she called “breath prayers.” She said that at different points throughout the day I should try praying simple prayers just in a breath that communicate to God whatever is heaviest on my heart. I had heard of a similar concept before, but hadn’t done it in quite a while, so I decided to try it out. Then, as I was getting into bed I found a note from my sweet bunk buddy, Erin. In it she wrote that she thought I would find comfort in Romans 8:26. The verse says “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. Erin was very right and before I went to sleep I simply said “God, I don’t know what to pray exactly, but right now I just need you to make sense to me.” This is a huge request, I realize, but nevertheless I went to sleep at peace feeling that somehow He was going to show me something.
So this morning I woke up and road to the school in Monjaras. Today was probably the 5th or 6th time I have been there, so I’ve gotten to know a lot of the little kids and am pretty familiar with most of their names. We went in the room where we generally work making different teaching materials and got started on a project. It wasn’t long before our usual crowd of tiny spectators showed up at the door to stare at us. All of the faces were familiar except one little boy that I didn’t remember being there before. Beside him was another boy trying to untie a knot in his shoelace. I went to help him out and decided while I was over there to introduce myself to this little stranger. Taking a closer look at him, I realized he was covered in fleas. Not that this is new really, in fact we have had a couple interns who have picked up scabies from school children since we have been here, but I guess it is just an initial reaction to be somewhat surprised by a child with fleas. Anyway, I asked him his name and found out it was Wilson, then I went back to my project. Later in the day we went into town to get some lunch. When we pulled back into the gate of the school the car was immediately swarmed by a group of about ten little boys. They jumped up in the car with Courtney and I and started messing with all the windows and swatting at the air fresheners. We were finally able to get them all out, and as I was pulling the last little boy from the vehicle and sitting him on the ground I felt a little hand on my leg. I turned to see Wilson standing there staring up at me. He then raised both arms as if asking me to pick him up and said something in Spanish (which, as usual I couldn’t understand). For a moment I just looked at him with thoughts racing through my head. “This little boy has fleas.” And then it just hit me. Without any more hesitation I picked him up, wrapped both arms around him, and hugged him as tight as I could. And then there was his little smile.
Now let me try to tie all of these random thoughts together. God had definitely shown me something. When I am hurting and reach for God, he doesn’t think for a second “ew, this girl is covered in filth” or “why would I pay her any attention? Her faith is lacking on so many levels.” He instead immediately picks me up and wraps both over-adequate arms around me as tightly as possible. That is the love of the God I don’t understand. And while I didn’t necessarily get an answer to all of the confusion and frustration, I certainly heard Him speak to me. Maybe not as audibly as I would like or in a manner that addressed the exact things on my heart, but in a way that was completely clear. He showed Himself to me in a way that I hadn’t asked for, but now know was something more important that he needed me to realize. Yet another lesson taught through a child.
-Grace
