Sitting in the crowd at Urbana 2009, I knew that I wanted to do cross-cultural missions. I didn't -- I still don't -- know exactly how or in what context. I love InterVarsity; and I love working with and seeing Jesus transform students. I want to do that for a long, long time. But my experience in Malawi -- the way God met and changed me there -- lit something in me that I can't deny is still there and probably will be for a long time.
It's; I don't know, it's a host of things. Seeing and sharing Christ with people of other cultures, and learning to be humble learners. Something I said before my trip, but was always only a buzzword or right attitude for me has now become completely true. I long to be part of a team that does life together in a certain way as well; the juxtaposition of our Malawi team with the Pangani community is still something that haunts me (in a good, "I won't settle for less again" kind of way).
Community is always tricky for me. At my heart I want what everyone else does: a community where I can be transparent with all my faults and brokenness. As I am slowly learning to allow myself to accept the broken me (and learn to accept it in others), I long to find a place where I'm the "Greg that God is healing" instead of the "Greg that God has already fixed, saved, trained, etc." This calling is to a frustrating, messy, painful sort of community life but one I long for. We become like Jesus in our relationships to others, not to abstract ideas or theology. At least, mostly. And that's what I want -- the sense of doing life together, of growing together, of sharing the stories God is writing in our lives.
There are so many different reasons I got into ministry. Calling. Responsibility. Pride. Selfishness. Ultimately, finally, it's because Jesus loves me and is working in me. As I grow in faith, I see more and more how broken I am and how beautiful the redemption that I already have is. I want to be near Him, to be becoming like Him, and to share Him with others. He's so good, I can't keep Him to myself.
I don't know if I feel called to long-term cross-cultural missions (at least, not yet). But I do want to regularly spend time pursuing God in other contexts and cultures, and learning to receive from His followers the same way I hope students will receive from me at SIU. Maybe I'll (help) lead global projects -- that seems like something I'd really be interested in and would be a good fit. Of course, that would be at *least* two or three years from now -- and two years ago I certainly hard no plans to go on InterVarsity staff. So, we'll see what God says in the meantime.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
extravagant
This is a love letter. It's sappy. You are forewarned.
I hate the winter. It's cold and yucky. Snow seems so nice initially, but it soon turns to sleet, slush, and dirty ice. It's a pain to travel and going anywhere takes lots of preparation: bundling up, warming the car, shoveling the driveway, wiping off the windshield...it never really ends. Winter's easily my least favorite season.
For a long time my heart was frozen over. I remember struggling with depression in high school because I considered myself completely unlovable. Who would want to love fat, ugly, unpopular me? It seemed a lot of time like no one did, least of all God. I wrapped myself up in that identity like an ugly, foul-smelling blanket. If I didn't expect anyone to love me, it wouldn't hurt when they didn't. When God didn't.
I ended up unable to feel anything, except hurt and anger. As my faith grew, I accepted the fact that God loved me. It said so in Scripture, my teachers said it was true, all the songs I sang proclaimed it, so I had to believe it. But this fact was firmly head knowledge. I never felt the presence of God in my life. I worshiped because I had to; I almost never meant the words. I struggled with feeling guilty because I didn't experience certain emotions during worship, like everyone around me seemed to. I wondered if the people in my area -- my supposed Christian community -- even liked me.
At SLT, I pleaded with God to show me that he actually did love me. For so long I was terrified to ask that question, because I was terrified about what I would hear in response. And at the time, I had what seemed like an answer from God -- and though it was not completely satisfying, it was enough for me then.
But God had much more in store.
In 2009, everything changed for me. I started to learn to trust and love the people around me -- a few close friends. Then I learned to love the people I ministered to. God taught me what it was like to serve out of love and not duty, maybe for the first time.
God started to pull up the weeds in my life. I remember when the first one came out. Near the end of the semester I was irrationally upset because no one had come to some events I had tried to recruit to. Obviously, this proved that I was right -- they didn't like me; or appreciate me; or approve of me. And God felt the same way. For the first time I was able to confess these feelings to a friend and out loud to God.
In Malawi, God pulled up even more. I came face to face with insecurities, weakness, and sin, as God showed me some of the ugliest part of myself while still telling me "I love you." [sorry all that happened around you, teammates ;)] All that work continued -- intensified -- when I came back. Someone told me that I was "very unGreg" during that time; but I think I was myself for the first time. I was no longer the tightly controlled person I usually am. I was at the mercy of my emotions, like I usually try to avoid. It was painful. Sometimes it seemed like God had only opened my heart up in the spring to rip it to shreds.
God reached me in a song. God reached me through the gospel of Matthew. God talked to me in prayer. He used an image of Cody -- my adorable dog -- to tell me how simply and powerfully He loved me. It's silly, I know; I don't care.
I used to not really know what it meant to be loved; I probably still don't. But I finally know that God loves me. And not just "love" in the sense of that overused, cliche, "I love my new shoes," valentine's day, over-saturated word. I have a God who wants me. He longs for me; He is jealous for me;; he thinks of me as a prize. He turned my life upside down to tell me.
I finally understand. We studied Jonah in August and I remember how Trever talking about how calling means suffering. I experienced that a lot last semester and in Malawi. Sometimes I do ministry or serve others out of good motives; because I want to follow Jesus and because He definitely deserves it. More often I do it because I am loved by Jesus and I desperately want to be near Him. God's calling is a calling to mission and to suffering; I welcome both with open arms. Paul said, "Next to knowing Christ I count everything as loss." I finally understand, because palibe ofana ndi yesu. There is no one like Jesus.
For me, that's enough.
I can feel you all around me
Thickening the air I'm breathing
Holding on to what I'm feeling
Savoring this heart that's healing
Take my hand, I give it to you
Now you own me, all I am
You said you would never leave me
I believe you; I believe
I hate the winter. It's cold and yucky. Snow seems so nice initially, but it soon turns to sleet, slush, and dirty ice. It's a pain to travel and going anywhere takes lots of preparation: bundling up, warming the car, shoveling the driveway, wiping off the windshield...it never really ends. Winter's easily my least favorite season.
For a long time my heart was frozen over. I remember struggling with depression in high school because I considered myself completely unlovable. Who would want to love fat, ugly, unpopular me? It seemed a lot of time like no one did, least of all God. I wrapped myself up in that identity like an ugly, foul-smelling blanket. If I didn't expect anyone to love me, it wouldn't hurt when they didn't. When God didn't.
I ended up unable to feel anything, except hurt and anger. As my faith grew, I accepted the fact that God loved me. It said so in Scripture, my teachers said it was true, all the songs I sang proclaimed it, so I had to believe it. But this fact was firmly head knowledge. I never felt the presence of God in my life. I worshiped because I had to; I almost never meant the words. I struggled with feeling guilty because I didn't experience certain emotions during worship, like everyone around me seemed to. I wondered if the people in my area -- my supposed Christian community -- even liked me.
At SLT, I pleaded with God to show me that he actually did love me. For so long I was terrified to ask that question, because I was terrified about what I would hear in response. And at the time, I had what seemed like an answer from God -- and though it was not completely satisfying, it was enough for me then.
But God had much more in store.
In 2009, everything changed for me. I started to learn to trust and love the people around me -- a few close friends. Then I learned to love the people I ministered to. God taught me what it was like to serve out of love and not duty, maybe for the first time.
God started to pull up the weeds in my life. I remember when the first one came out. Near the end of the semester I was irrationally upset because no one had come to some events I had tried to recruit to. Obviously, this proved that I was right -- they didn't like me; or appreciate me; or approve of me. And God felt the same way. For the first time I was able to confess these feelings to a friend and out loud to God.
In Malawi, God pulled up even more. I came face to face with insecurities, weakness, and sin, as God showed me some of the ugliest part of myself while still telling me "I love you." [sorry all that happened around you, teammates ;)] All that work continued -- intensified -- when I came back. Someone told me that I was "very unGreg" during that time; but I think I was myself for the first time. I was no longer the tightly controlled person I usually am. I was at the mercy of my emotions, like I usually try to avoid. It was painful. Sometimes it seemed like God had only opened my heart up in the spring to rip it to shreds.
God reached me in a song. God reached me through the gospel of Matthew. God talked to me in prayer. He used an image of Cody -- my adorable dog -- to tell me how simply and powerfully He loved me. It's silly, I know; I don't care.
I used to not really know what it meant to be loved; I probably still don't. But I finally know that God loves me. And not just "love" in the sense of that overused, cliche, "I love my new shoes," valentine's day, over-saturated word. I have a God who wants me. He longs for me; He is jealous for me;; he thinks of me as a prize. He turned my life upside down to tell me.
I finally understand. We studied Jonah in August and I remember how Trever talking about how calling means suffering. I experienced that a lot last semester and in Malawi. Sometimes I do ministry or serve others out of good motives; because I want to follow Jesus and because He definitely deserves it. More often I do it because I am loved by Jesus and I desperately want to be near Him. God's calling is a calling to mission and to suffering; I welcome both with open arms. Paul said, "Next to knowing Christ I count everything as loss." I finally understand, because palibe ofana ndi yesu. There is no one like Jesus.
For me, that's enough.
I can feel you all around me
Thickening the air I'm breathing
Holding on to what I'm feeling
Savoring this heart that's healing
Take my hand, I give it to you
Now you own me, all I am
You said you would never leave me
I believe you; I believe
Friday, February 12, 2010
partnership
Fundraising is a curious thing. There are a lot of contradictions in it; at least, that's how it seems to me now.
For example: it both is and isn't about me. It's not about me because it shouldn't be. It's about the mission of God and the ministry to the students at Carbondale. I can't make myself too important in my own eyes - too put together or perfect. When I do, I start to worry about why people won't DONATE TO ME. Or I start to get confident in my training and skills and plans and not the power of Jesus. I start to get trapped in my own narrative of what's important: staff, me, my budget, my gifts. It's not about me.
But it IS about me! The money I raise is my salary and goes to train and equip me to be on campus; it reflects my unique skills and the gifts I bring to the table. I also have numerous donors who give or will give because they like *me.* So there's that same pressure from Malawi -- to have a plan and a strategy; to be worth the financial investment people make on my behalf. To earn their approval and respect.
More and more I am reminded that humility and brokenness are the ways of Jesus. I saw clearly this semester, this summer, that all my skills and training usually end up less valuable than Jesus changing my life. When I was honest with my doubts and struggles and my relationship with God -- THOSE were the times I was a blessing.
I'm so glad God called me to Malawi. More and more I see what He did it for -- not only in the great breaking and healing He did in me there, but in the way He used it to prepare me for fundraising. I realize that I shouldn't make it overly about me. I shouldn't strive to earn God's (or donors!) approval. I shouldn't approach from a 'donor/aid' perspective but from that of a humble partner. Or servant?
Intervarsity (as much as I love it) is not the sum of God's kingdom, and I am to the tool of His mission. Ultimately this is about God's love for me. It transforms me. Friends: what people need is Jesus, and he's transforming us to be like him.
For example: it both is and isn't about me. It's not about me because it shouldn't be. It's about the mission of God and the ministry to the students at Carbondale. I can't make myself too important in my own eyes - too put together or perfect. When I do, I start to worry about why people won't DONATE TO ME. Or I start to get confident in my training and skills and plans and not the power of Jesus. I start to get trapped in my own narrative of what's important: staff, me, my budget, my gifts. It's not about me.
But it IS about me! The money I raise is my salary and goes to train and equip me to be on campus; it reflects my unique skills and the gifts I bring to the table. I also have numerous donors who give or will give because they like *me.* So there's that same pressure from Malawi -- to have a plan and a strategy; to be worth the financial investment people make on my behalf. To earn their approval and respect.
More and more I am reminded that humility and brokenness are the ways of Jesus. I saw clearly this semester, this summer, that all my skills and training usually end up less valuable than Jesus changing my life. When I was honest with my doubts and struggles and my relationship with God -- THOSE were the times I was a blessing.
I'm so glad God called me to Malawi. More and more I see what He did it for -- not only in the great breaking and healing He did in me there, but in the way He used it to prepare me for fundraising. I realize that I shouldn't make it overly about me. I shouldn't strive to earn God's (or donors!) approval. I shouldn't approach from a 'donor/aid' perspective but from that of a humble partner. Or servant?
Intervarsity (as much as I love it) is not the sum of God's kingdom, and I am to the tool of His mission. Ultimately this is about God's love for me. It transforms me. Friends: what people need is Jesus, and he's transforming us to be like him.
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