Thursday, July 23, 2009

Sharp Instruments

I went to high school in the Philippines, and I joined the rugby team as soon as the sport was available. I still remember the feeling after the first pickup game we ever played. It was a revelation.

I grew up playing soccer, where you use your feet to manipulate the ball, but it felt nothing like rugby in terms of purity. The sport demanded that every muscle work together, that every sense moved into high gear, that speed meet agility meet power. And there were no gloves, bats, pads, bases, helmets, etc to slow you down or make your job easier.

In a far less adrenaline-fueled way, I feel like relational ministry offers a similar fulfillment. It strips away the mechanisms, the shortcuts, and the complex tracking methods, and puts a pure demand on the person engaging in the my inistry. It gets directly to the heart, and places its hope in what lies there.

That's why, when I looked at other missionaries doing this kind of work, I thought it looked like a pretty easy gig. Just spend time with people, right? I could do that.

Since arriving down here to do the work myself, I've realized the corruption of my own heart. There are areas where I am not willing to open myself to people, things I am not willing to give away, pains I am not willing to share.

For the most part, I love what we do. We help people and build loving relationships in the name of the kingdom of Christ. And for the most part, we see deep changes in the people we work with.

However, I have wrestled with small failures recently. A relationship with another missionary went cold, and he reached out to me before I opened up to him. A refugee I am close with expressed pain, and I did not go to him.

This is a 24-hour, inside-out gig. It's the most rewarding and demanding form of ministry, and I love it. When I finish with the immigrants and refugees, I come home and seek to open myself to my partners and supporters on this blog.

Thank God that when I hit the end of my resources, when I find those areas that are dark, and when I feel as if I have nothing to offer to the needy, his glory moves. Even now, I know that these failures are being used to turn my eyes to the Eternal for hope.

1 comment:

  1. yeah. Moving in with roomates in intentional community has been similarly convicting. No more kvetching about the lack of friends here in Dallas. They're right here. What lack of intimacy I experience is now my own fault.

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