The toughest professors in my most challenging college courses never came close to teaching me at the deep levels of cognitive and spiritual development surrounding me these days. Truly, my rate of growth, only reflects the harsh reality that there was so much i did not know. I've never thought of myself as “highly intelligent”. But i never realized “just how little i knew” until stepping into the arenas where logic doesn't compute and no amount of “want to, try to, hope to, maybe i can if i work hard enough” will make an ounce of difference. When in one place there are innocent little ones being broken physically struggling to get through another day of hunger and pain, but then just a few lines of latitude and longitude traveled reveal the same sort of skin covered innocent ones being emotionally ruined by lavish unnecessaries piled around them.
But always in the back of my mind I
remember ---- the Garden of Eden.
Eden was God's plan... His gift... in
Eden no one person would have had too much while another suffered
without.
These reflections are not meant to
present some magnificent theological finding.
They're just the ponderings of a
daughter ... who is … growing.
The scriptures roll through my mind
--- “the Lord gives and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of
the Lord”... and I say “Amen”. The Lord is blessed, He is holy
and just and loving and merciful. But what of His children?
How often are we acting out “the will
of The Lord” in our day to day living?
How much do I act out “the will of
the Lord” around me?
The struggle of ---- do I give food to
the street children who are ever near me these days. I buy a bag of
oranges and give one each to the two boys with jiggered feet and
torn, filthy clothes in front of me. And I look at the bag in my
hands. And I struggle – missing Eden. Some would actually criticize
saying, “don't give them any food, it only encourages them to stay
begging on the street”. And I get that point. Others would say,
“what would Jesus do, he would surely give them food...”. And I
get that point too. Some would say, “just get out of there, come
back home to America, where you can avoid the tension, and eat
your oranges in peace...” oh God...
I even say to myself, “what are you
thinking donna, you're so far away from “home”, from your kids,
don't you know you are risking never being near them again with
this obedience...”. We aren't suppose to admit things like that are
we? But...
Yesterday a pregnant, filthy street
woman who looked to be 90 years old came to me as I bought onions at
the street market. Oh God!!! her hand is out, she needs help! She
carries a little one inside. She's also “mindless” as some of my
Kenyan friends would describe it. Dear God, how did her life come to
this?? Logic says --- “donna, you can not give her what she
needs... you can help her for the next few minutes... but in the end,
you can not 'fix' her life...” and this logic is accurate. But...
what about the words, “do unto others as you would have them do
unto you..”?
In all this tension, this terrible
tension ---- my tininess is painfully clear. Like a tiny bush on the
side of the escarpment bordering the Great Rift Valley.
Many would say, “oh the problems are
just too great, it's too overwhelming, i'll look away or better yet
i'll stay far from it, ---- i'll just keep living my life --- and
i'll pray for them...” Sometimes it feels like the only possible
response to the great need in this world.
But then God plucks a daughter from the
peaceful place found at the easier lines of longitude and latitude,
and He places her in the middle of where His heart is --- and she
stops to hear HIS VOICE.
She realizes she knows too little.
She cringes at the contrast of the two worlds. And He grows her in His ways. “He must increase... I must decrease” (John 3:30) becomes a heartbeat, no longer just inked words on neat white paper.
She cringes at the contrast of the two worlds. And He grows her in His ways. “He must increase... I must decrease” (John 3:30) becomes a heartbeat, no longer just inked words on neat white paper.
She realizes she's a pebble with many
rough edges. She's tucked in with all the other pebbles at the bottom
of the stream. The flood waters come rushing over her. She can hardly
breathe. Other pebbles surround her, she can endure if they can,
right? But then the water somehow plucks her up from the sandy
bottom. She misses the comfort of the spot she had always occupied in
the middle of those who held her securely in her place. Still the
rushing waters have swept her away. She crashes into bigger,
unrelenting boulders that line the boundaries of the water's edge.
Every collision knocks off a sharp edge on her, an edge that had been
unseen by her until the moment of impact. But when the chiseling blow
comes, she knows --- that sharpness had been there all along, and it
needed to go for her journey down the stream to flow more gently.
It's a painful journey down the waterway --- but it's so very
necessary. She realizes, while tucked into the sand, the rough edges
had not been so evident. The sand could cover up. Only the part that
was exposed had felt the rushing waters; and those waters had nicely
smoothed the portion that had felt their constant flow. But only when
the current had pulled her away did the jagged, sharp,
far-from-smooth sides show. The steady stream didn't seem to notice
or care, but she did. She knew. She had thought she was smooth... but
now her jagged edges protruded and collided. She was being changed,
transformed, altered, awakened.
For as she found herself carried by the
rushing waters, she was seeing things she'd never seen before. She
was impacted by boulders she'd only heard of before. In truth, she
had been afraid of the thought of such huge boulders and hoped she
might never have to encounter them. Tucked safely in her
stream-bottom-sand-bed, she had felt certain she would be safe from
them. And yet, she was now learning, the giants didn't break her to
pieces, they were only allowed to chip off tiny pieces of the jagged
sharp sides she had hoped would never be seen.
She was a pebble being tossed about at
the will of the rushing stream. She had no control over her course.
Helpless. But.... not hopeless.
She knew as she encountered another
giant boulder, she could do nothing to alter it ---- but if she just
let the waters carry her through, the boulder would impact her, and
she would be changed. What needed to go would be chipped away. If her
already smoothed side was the surface that hit the giant rock, she
would slide off easily, nothing would chip away. Only the jagged
edges would chip away when they hit the giant hard places.
The One who made the stream. The One
who plucked her from her safe, sandy bed. The One who was over the
boulders and set her course for the journey through them. That One
would someday gather her up at the end of her journey, and hold her
in His great hands. And He would hopefully be able to say, “oh
little one, it's been a hard journey hasn't it? You've been tossed
about, but look at you now. You're smooth in my hands. There is
nothing about you now that would prick another. There's no side of
you now that has not been touched and shaped. The boulders were
cruel. Not even I wish for the boulders to be so hard. But since they
have chosen to be that way... I have chosen to use them in ways that
will bring about my good purposes. For you see, i've been steadily at
work to help you. You're heart had cried out to me, you wanted more
of Me; you wanted to bless others, not cut them with your sharp
edges. So the work began. And little one --- all along the way, you
thought you were having no impact on the giant, hard, unrelenting
boulders --- but you did. Look back. My rushing waters that carried
you through have been working on smoothing those hard places in this
world. You alone didn't change them, but the combination of you along
with many others like you mixed in with my waters ---- together we've
made a difference. Some of the boulders are now many tiny pebbles
rushing down the same stream you've just traveled. And some of the
cruel boulders are even now being slowly worn down and weakened.
Little stone in my hands ---- I will use you and the many like you
---- to transform even the hardest places. You will never understand
the hard places, your mind is not equipped to do so. But I do. And
i'm at work.
I, God, know the pregnant homeless lady
who ripped at your heart yesterday. I know her intimately. You can't
change her any more than you could change the boulder beside the
stream. But I, God, I will continue to flood my waters over her. She
will not have one day that I, God, am not willing to draw near her
and smooth away all that is rough and wrong. She might not feel like
she has a choice. But remember my Word --- if she will turn to me,
she will find me.
You --- just be my pebble.
Allow me to toss you according to my
good will ---- your course is not hap-hazard. I chart each turn and
curve.
The awareness of all that you do not
“know” and the starkness of all that is wrong in this fallen
world. The moments of newness that overwhelm you and make you face
your intense inability and weakness ---- just be a pebble in those
moments and allow Me, the One who is not weak, the One who loves you
dearly, the One who is not overwhelmed, allow ME to carry you
through.
I will accomplish what needs to be
accomplished.
Oh Donna, I understand exactly what you are saying here... I can relate in my own small way and thank you for giving me awareness that i too am a small pebble in the rushing stream and all that God is doing in the midst of the rushing, the crushing, the smoothing, and that in all of that, HE is God, ever working on and for all of us.. I am encouraged my friend. Thank you for your faithfulness to express here what God is doing in your heart. It not only helps you, it helps others (me) as well.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much dear Deitra... i know you understand, we're learning beside each other (10,000 miles of distance is irrelevant in this classroom). :) It's so nice to know we're not the only pebbles in the stream. love you friend!
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