Being the church

"All the Lord's followers often met together, and they shared everything they had.  They would sell their property and possessions and give the money to whoever needed it.  Day after day they met together in the temple.  They broke bread together in different homes and shared their food happily and freely, while praising God.  Everyone liked them, and each day the Lord added to their group others who were being saved."  -Acts 2:44-47

Here in Kenya, when a family or community is in need, they hold something called a "harambee."  Americans may recognize the word as the name of a gorilla that died in a zoo last year, but it's actually a Swahili word that means pulling together and caring for each other.  In a harambee, everyone comes together and gives what they can.  When each person gives a little, the community can help the community or family to pay for the funeral, the school, the hospital bill, the local water project.

Harambee reminds me of the early church as described in Acts 2.  People coming together to care for one another and praising God.  And sometimes I wonder what it would look like if the American church had some more of that.

But I realize there's already quite a bit of it happening around me.  Here, it looks like a 20-something going on multiple short-term mission trips to Kenya despite not being able to pay for them myself.  It looks like multiple people spending countless hours working out the details when God called me to full-time ministry in Kenya.  It looks like coming home for a visit and not worrying about where I'll stay or what I'll eat.  It looks like meeting weekly at a friend's house with a delicious potluck lunch, but no one is required to bring anything if they're not able to.  It looks like dozens of people with whom I'd feel completely comfortable joining at their homes for dinner.  It looks like friends in Kenya offering to put me in contact with their family members in the US, in case I ever need anything.  It looks like my best friend working tirelessly (actually, I think she's getting pretty tired) to clean out a room for me in her house.  It looks like a friend making a list of what I'll need when I get there even before I do, and making sure I'll have those things when I get to the US.  It looks like messages of encouragement from people I've never met, but who are part of my church.

We don't look exactly like the first century church did--no one has offered to sell a house to help me out yet--but it's clear that there's still a lot of caring for each other going on in the 21st century church.  I can't believe how fortunate I've been to find so many Christians who'll care for each other no matter where I go in the world.  May we continue to find opportunities to break bread and share freely with one another, and may the Lord continue to add to our family.

Seasonal footwear

This past Friday was the autumnal equinox in the northern hemisphere.  My Facebook newsfeed was filled with posts both lamenting the end of summer and welcoming the start of autumn.  There were friends wearing flip-flops and shorts, holding onto the last rays of the summer sun, and friends putting on their boots and sweaters to go consume as many pumpkin spice-flavored products as possible.

If you leave your flip-flops on for too long, your feet are going to get pretty cold.  But if you put your boots on too early in the season, your feet will probably get pretty sweaty and smelly.  And when the seasons are in the process of changing, it's sometimes hard to know what to wear on a particular day.  It might be 85 degrees today, but drop into the 60's tomorrow.  I might put on my boots in the chilly morning but regret it when the sun is beating down on me at 2:00 in the afternoon.

Changes in life's seasons can be the same.  As I'm getting ready to move back to the US, I find myself waking up some mornings focused on the difficult parts of life here, wishing I could move back sooner.  But many mornings I wake up and marvel at the beauty of this country and the joy the children bring me and wonder how I'll be able to bear leaving them in less than two months.

It's a challenge to balance staying in the moment here while still preparing to leave.  I can't put my boots on too soon and mentally check out before my time is up.  But I can't leave my flip-flops on all the time and pretend I'm not leaving and just continue with life as usual.  There's a tension in the changing of seasons that you just have to lean into and be uncomfortable.  Sometimes I'll have to have my flip-flops on because I'm teaching these children until the end of the school term.  They need me to stay focused so their education doesn't suffer.  And sometimes I'll need to switch into my boots as I'm saying my goodbyes and turning over responsibilities to others who'll take over when I'm gone.  It's exhausting to have to keep changing footwear.  But that's what happens when the seasons change.

I'm surely not getting it right all the time.  I spend time planning for things I'll need to do in November and December in the US, and get behind on grading papers.  I'll spend a whole day working on the library, then realize there was something else I should have started a week ago that needs to be done before I leave.  I'm thankful to be surrounded by people who have grace for me in the moments when I'm putting on the wrong footwear.

If you're in transition and feel like it's always the wrong temperature for what you've got on, know that you're not crazy, and you're not alone.  The tension is normal, and we just have to go through it, not try to avoid it.  It's only a season, and soon we'll be able to put on our boots every day without having to check the weather forecast first.

"There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under the heavens:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them

a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

a time to search and a time to give up,

a time to love and a time to hate,

a time for war and a time for peace."

-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Riding bikes

"My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest."  -Psalm 22:2

A book I read recently talked about how a relationship with God can sometimes be like learning to ride a bike.  You come to a point where your training wheels are off, and your parent is no longer holding their hand on your back.  They may be running right alongside you as you go, but not feeling their hand on your back can be scary.  You might fall and get scraped up.  You might get mad at your parent for not supporting you like they used to.  But you'll never learn to ride on your own if they don't let go.

Sometimes faith can feel like that.  You come to a point where your training wheels are off, you're out loving people like God calls you to, but you can't feel his hand on your back anymore.  You can't hear his words of reassurance whispered in your ear anymore.  It can be scary.  You might fall and get scraped up.  You might get mad at God for not being there like he has been in the past.  But you'll never learn to stand on your own if he doesn't let go.

If I'm being honest, some days, I look around me and wonder where God is:  when these children struggle with basic social skills because of what they've been through in their young lives, when we struggle to provide for the needs of our employees, when famine strikes parts of the country and children are dying while begging God for rain and food.  It just doesn't feel like he's there.

But, in searching for where God is, I end up finding out more about who he is.  I'm learning more about the ways he speaks to and interacts with his creation.  I look around and I still see evidence that he's at work:  Tania is planting tomato seedlings in its third greenhouse, employees who left have been replaced, we have a solid new head teacher, computer classes are happening on new computers, we're trying again at an egg-laying business with new hens after the last ones died or stopped laying.  Even if I can't feel his hand on my back, I can see evidence that God is still running alongside me as I give obedience a go without my training wheels.

When you value your feelings as much as I do (I'm an INFJ if you follow M-B personality tests) it can be especially hard when you can't feel God.  But God knows when (not if) those times will come.    And he reminds us that "if we don't feel at ease, God is greater than our feelings."  (1 John 3:20)  If you push into it, you can come out the other end with a deeper relationship with your creator.  And, once you get the hang of it, you can ride a lot farther and see a lot more beautiful views without training wheels.