Sacrificing for the Sake of the Gospel

Remember my past journal entry about contentment?  I want to share with you what God has been teaching me in this struggle.  I have been finding that an antidote to discontentment lies in an attitude of sacrifice.  Let me explain.  At the root of discontentment is a sense of entitlement.  We are not getting something that we believe we should be getting.  In 1 Corinthians 9 Paul speaks about sacrificing for the sake of the Gospel - about adopting a different, even inconvenient, style of life in order that the Gospel might be made known.  I believe that therein lies the secret to contentment.  What we might view as inconveniences are actually an occasion for us to die to our flesh.  Any difficulty that comes our way is a chance to surrender our fleshly desires to God.  "No," you might object, "how could an inconvenience be for the sake of the Gospel?"  I believe it can be because how we respond to an inconvenience is a perfect opportunity for the Gospel to be made manifest in our lives.  We ourselves are God's witnesses to display Christ to the world.  As we die to our flesh and Christ sanctifies us, we better reflect His glory to the world and the Gospel is displayed through us.

This is what God has been challenging me in: to live a life of sacrifice.  Let me be clear.  We live in a culture that is infatuated with rights.  We believe that we are all entitled to a life of a plentiful wardrobe, a comfortable, spacious home, a yearly vacation, and certainly the right to make our own decisions about how we spend our time.  I'm not saying that we don't have these rights.  I'm not saying that doing these things is wrong, but my question is this: What rights will we sacrifice for the sake of the Gospel?  Paul certainly had the right to eat, drink, and get married, but he says that he is sacrificing these rights for the Gospel (1 Corinthians 9).  I certainly have the right to live near my family, get to know my own new brother, eat food I like, exercise, clean my clothing the way I prefer, use the Internet when I wish, and make my own decisions about how I spend my day, but these are all things that I get the opportunity to sacrifice right now.

Sacrifice for each of us will look different. It can mean giving up resources, time, preferences, or rights, but whatever it is, remember it is not a true sacrifice if it is easy.  Take for example, the widow and her two copper coins (Mark 12:41-44).  This woman gave up the financial means she needed to survive.  She certainly had the right to keep that money, it was hers after all and she needed it, but, she gave it up for God.  Sacrifice always involves a surrender, a stripping away, but Jesus assures us that all that what we give up in this lifetime will be abundantly repaid in the next (Mark 10:29-31).  So let us live with our eyes on eternity.  Let us deny ourselves, our rights, and our desires so that the Gospel might be made manifest in our lives and proclaimed to the world.                

Contentment in All Circumstances

"I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty.  I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do all this through him who gives me strength." Philippians 4:11b-13 NIV

One thing I am learning about myself is that I struggle with contentment.  Though there are always aspects of every location that I enjoy, I constantly have my next move in the back of my mind.  Recently, this has become even more of a struggle for me as I find myself being forced to eat foods I dislike on a daily basis, take cold showers, and lose Internet connection every 30 seconds. My host family lives very differently then I am accustomed to living.  We clean our clothing by hand and our host mom literally dumps half the bottle of detergent in the bucket we soak our clothing in (even though the detergent is triple strength!)  I have no control over what my host mom feeds me.   When she serves us papaya again and again, I secretly want nothing more then to walk over to the trash can and throw it all out.   My host family never turns off their tv.  In fact, often they all fall asleep in front of the tv and stay there all night, using the tv as an alarm to wake them up in the morning.  I don't know what they are saying half the time and I have no control over anything that happens.  We are required to ask permission from our host family for everything we do - from taking a shower, to eating a snack, to going on a walk.  Quite honestly, think I had more freedom when I was 7.  But in all of this, I am learning to be content.

I am learning to be content even though I feel like I'm wearing a pot of soap on my clothing.  I am learning to be thankful that we have food (even if it is papaya and cactus).  I am thankful that we have electricity at all (even if it means the tv will never turn off), thankful that we can access the Internet (even if it doesn't work half the time), and thankful that God is allowing me to go through a time in which I have no control over anything.  When Paul wrote that he had learned the secret of being content he didn't mean that he enjoyed every situation, but he did mean that he learned to rest in God in every situation.  This is the secret of being content - it is learning how to find our peace and comfort in the presence of God and not in the presence of material objects.  So I am praying that I might learn the secret of being content in every situation - whether with Internet or without, whether near family or apart, whether eating foods I enjoy or foods that I dislike, and whether at home or in unfamiliarity.  

I Once Thought Chicago Was Big...

          I sit on the bus and stare out the window.  If the traffic is light, I will only ride this bus for one hour, if it is heavy, I will ride it for three.  Every so often a vendor walks onto the bus shoving some new food into our hands in hopes that we will make the purchase.  The streets outside are filled with color: outdoor markets, graffiti on every building, street vendors, apartments, buses, homes, cars, and people, so many people as far as you can see.  And all of it blends together to create a symphony of sights, smells, and sounds called Mexico City.  I get off the bus and walk to the Metro.  The line is packed and I shove my way into an already full car.  Immediately, I am surrounded by a wall of people on all sides of me. I look at our hands, all grasping for something to keep us upright as the metro lurches to a stop.  We are all so different, yet in this moment, we are so similar and I am struck by the complexity of humanity.  For in this moment, we are all here together, and, in the next moment, we will never be again.  I hop off the Metro and head down the street.  I share the sidewalk with street vendors, people traveling in all directions, and occasional cars that decided to park on the sidewalk since there really isn't any room to park on the street.
          And somehow, amidst the difference of it all, I feel perfectly at home.  You see, I am now able to see how God has been preparing me for this moment for years now.  When I first moved to Chicago it was a difficult transition.  I was unused to life in the city: the public transportation and the lifestyle differences of living in such a huge place.  The first few years I yearned to be home amongst the mountains, I longed for the ease of taking a car and not needing to walk a mile with my groceries or wait half an hour in the snow for my bus.  And yet, as time passed, I grew to see the beauty of the different styles of life.  I learned to navigate the city and feel comfortable in the middle of a crowd.  I learned that despite the danger a big city presents it also brings with it a wondrous thing -  for it is a place full of faces that all reflect the image of God.
          My new "Chicago" is about 7 times bigger, speaks a different language, and has streets that wind around so much that they literally resemble a bowl of spaghetti.  Yet, my new "Chicago" is filled with the same stuff as the last one.  People.  People who are hurting, people who are laughing, people who are busy, people who have nothing to do, yet all these people have more in common than meets the eye: they are all people searching for a purpose; people who desperately need God.  Sure, the people here might buy milk in a box and bread that is already toasted, serve chilies with every meal, and eat four times a day instead of three, but underneath all the cultural differences they are a people who need God as much as we all do.  Would you join me in praying for these people?

This is a small, yes small, section of Mexico City :)

This is the street I live on - near where the man is walking

A Semester of Change

I was warned long before I got here that student teaching is one of the hardest experiences we will face.  This is because there are a lot of firsts in student teaching: our first time being a real teacher, our first time teaching all day long, prepping lessons every day, juggling 60 students, and having mountains of grading to complete.  For those of us who choose to do our student teaching in a foreign country we have a few more firsts to add to that list: our first time in that specific country, our first time teaching in an ESL context, and our first semester abroad.  For me, though, I had some firsts I never expected or anticipated.  It was the first time my family was also in a foreign country, sharply limiting my contact with them, my first time to have an adopted sibling, my first time not to meet a new sibling of mine, and my first time to not be present with my family as they endure and struggle through monumental changes.  If this wasn’t enough, I also needed to switch cooperating teachers after one week of being here.   

As someone who only enjoys a small sampling of change at a time this volume of changes was crushing.  In fact, at times, it still feels like too much because not only is this a semester full of firsts, but it has followed right after a semester full of lasts: my last semester at Moody and my last semester living with my wonderful roommate and friends, the last time I will live in the city of Chicago which I have slowly come to appreciate, and the completion of 17 years of formal education.

I must admit that there have been moments when I have been tempted to toss it away and return home in hopes of scraping some sense of normalcy back into my life.  There have been moments when I ache so much because my family is going through hardship and I am entirely unable to help them.  There are instances that I wonder why I can’t just be like everyone else and settle down near my family.  And maybe this will happen at some point, but for now I hear God asking, “Will you leave father and mother, brother and sister for me?”  And as much as I hate all the change and I hate all the distance I know that this is what I was promised. 

Our lives are not meant to be comfortable and easy because we serve a God who calls us to follow Him despite the guaranteed hardship and pain.  And yet, we also serve a God who is present and who meets us where we are.  When I look at some of the things that have happened this semester I am amazed that I am still here.  I know a semester like this would have been too much had I faced it at an earlier time in my life.  This is what God has given me now – it is not what I would have planned or predicted, but God knows that our time on earth is just for a moment and He works with His eyes on eternity, knowing what is best on a level far beyond our scope. 

Some more firsts!  I went on a medical mission trip for spring break...

...It was my my first time combing lice out of hair...  

...And my first time drinking from a coconut :)

Faithfulness in the Midst of Misplaced Dependency

        It is absolutely disheartening to me how quickly I misplace my dependency on God and switch it out for some infinitely inferior substitute.  Last week I got a terrible case of the stomach flu.  The electricity and Internet were our all day and I found myself in the desperate and strange state of not knowing what to do. I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, incapable of communicating with friends or family and unable to lesson plan or check my e-mail.  I could not watch a movie, read a book, or even turn on my bedroom light.  Ostracized from the people I know best and unable to turn to some form of media that would allow me to pass the time, I felt alone and powerless.  In that moment, I was terribly aware that my first impulse is not to seek God, but to seek any other avenue of help beside Him.  Even on days when I am perfectly healthy, I find myself fleeing to a friend for a solution instead of running to God. I wish I could say that I’ve learned my lesson, but I know my heart too well – it is “prone to wander…prone to leave the Lord I love”. To see this sin in my life deeply upsets me, but what overwhelms me is that in spite of it all He is faithfully present. 

In light of all this misplaced dependency, God does not give up on me.  He is faithful to His promise that He will never leave me.  I don’t know why it shocks me so much because He is always faithful, but in times like this I am reminded again how little I deserve that faithfulness.  It was at this time, right when I was feeling the most discouraged about being here and feeling doubly discouraged at finding this sin in my life, that He allowed me to go to a beautiful outdoor market in Tegucigalpa.  I wish you could have been there and walked through the rows of vendors with me; eager sellers naming their price and people, vegetables, and fruits lining every surface as far as you can see.  Oh, and I must not forget the pungent meat section where whole portions of bloody flesh hung on display, dripping their red juices onto the street below or the seafood section, in which, little crabs crawled up out of their bucket only to be shoved back in by their vendor.  This is the craziness of Latin America that I fell in love with.  And as I stood there, taking it all in, I felt God’s presence reminding me of how He really does know best.  Despite all my misplaced dependency, sorrow, and frustration God was there reminding me that He will never leave me.  That colorful market was my rainbow sent to remind me that though I stray and wander, He remains faithful.

The Market!  

Isn't it beautiful?  

Horchata in a bag.
 In Honduras they don't waste paper cups, but instead give you your drink to go in a bag! 

To gaze through the lens of eternity

Sometimes the tears are literally veiled in by nothing more than sheer will force.  But they are there nonetheless, uninvited and unbidden, waiting for a moment of weakness to break through the dam.  I miss what was once so familiar to me. I feel trapped not being allowed to walk out my front door alone.  I miss my family.  I miss my dear roommate, Amanda.  I miss the mountains, the city, and the normalcy of living in the United States. I don’t understand this culture.  I don’t speak this language.  And I’m here.  Alone.  It’s in moments like these that I wonder if I’m doing the right thing.  And though, this may be for just a short time, I do know that He has me here…now.  He has a purpose in me being here and I will never learn that purpose if I spend my entire time here hoping to be someplace else. 

It hurts, you know.  It hurts to know that my entire family is reuniting and I am here in a strange country apart from them.  It hurts to know that God may call me to spend my entire life nowhere near the ones I love.  It is not easy for me, but my deepest desire is to glorify God in my life and actions.  Sometimes I lose sight of this goal and want nothing more than to see the sight of those glorious Wasatch Mountains and soak up the presence of those I love.  Sometimes I want to just forget it all and hop back on a plane.  But that is not why I am here.  I was not put on this earth so that I could enjoy myself and my family.  I was put here to glorify and enjoy God.  We cannot enjoy God when we are actively rebelling against Him and so I find myself here.  Right now, in this moment, it’s not where I want to be, but it is where God has put me.  So, when I gaze at this moment with an eternal perspective, I want to be nowhere else.      

Joy Amongst Inconsistency

One thing that being in a third world country has taught me is to not take for granted the blessing of consistency found in the United States.  Here, life is inconsistent.  You never know when you might return home to a house with no working electricity. If the electricity is not working, you won’t be able to cook your dinner, take a shower, or recharge your dying computer.  You never know when the Internet might go out for hours and you’ll be forced to reschedule your Skype date with a friend.  You never know if the roads will be clear enough to get where you are going in time.  You never know if the grocery store will have what you are looking for in stock.  The list could go on and on. 

            So, I am starting to thank God for each little moment He gives me.  Today I am thanking God that the electricity worked long enough for me to shower, that the Internet, which has been going on and off in roughly 5 minute intervals, worked just long enough for me to submit my homework to Moody, and that the power went back on in time for me to warm up some tea.  I used to take these things for granted, but when they could disappear at any moment, I realize just what a blessing these things truly are.  

See why the electricity is inconsistent?  :)

The City of Tegucigalpa