story

Lost is my favorite TV show. It's a lot of fun to watch and talk about, but mostly the characters and the heart and depth of their story really connects to something in me. The clip above comes from last nights episode.

Ben is probably one of the darkest characters on Lost. He's done a lot of bad things and sacrificed a lot of people to have control. If anyone is beyond redemption in a show that specializes in redemptive character arcs, it's Ben. That's why the scene above is so powerful to me. It shows that Ben -- the manipulator, the schemer, the "bad guy" -- is *not* above redemption.

Locke is the current bad guy; "evil incarnate" according to one of the characters. And Ben is so lost and desperate that he feels like he has to join Locke because no one else will accept him. The look on Ben's face when Ilana welcomes him (somewhat less than enthusiastically) is just heartbreaking for me. (I mean, come on, this scene is superbly acted). It reminds me of my story of faith; my struggles with depression and low self-esteem. I always thought no one would accept or love me because of the ugliness inside me.

I just finished Don Miller's newest book on the power of story. I think a lot of what he says is right and true; about people wanting to live stories that matter. Ultimately the stories I love the most are the character pieces; the redemptive ones. Christ offers us all an opportunity to be a part of a redemptive character arc. It's an opportunity I eagerly grasp.

mark 3:7-19

Jesus withdrew with his disciples to the sea, and a great crowd followed, from Galilee and Judea and Jerusalem and Idumea and from beyond the Jordan and from around Tyre and Sidon. When the great crowd heard all that he was doing, they came to him. And he told his disciples to have a boat ready for him because of the crowd, lest they crush him, for he had healed many, so that all who had diseases pressed around him to touch him. And whenever the unclean spirits saw him, they fell down before him and cried out, “You are the Son of God.” 12 And he strictly ordered them not to make him known.

And he went up on the mountain and called to him those whom he desired, and they came to him. And he appointed twelve (whom he also named apostles) so that they might be with him and he might send them out to preach and have authority to cast out demons. He appointed the twelve: Simon (to whom he gave the name Peter); James the son of Zebedee and John the brother of James (to whom he gave the name Boanerges, that is, Sons of Thunder); Andrew, and Philip, and Bartholomew, and Matthew, and Thomas, and James the son of Alphaeus, and Thaddaeus, and Simon the Cananaean, and Judas Iscariot, who betrayed him.

There's an image in my head of the huge crowd. People are coming to Jesus because of their desperate need. For many it's physical healing, but I imagine there are some in the crowd who are looking for spiritual healing. I identify a lot with this crowd. I feel like lately though I've been hiding on the outside of the crowd. I've come to see Jesus, but I'm not actively fighting my way through the crowd to be near him. I've got problems, but maybe he can't see me in the crowd or has some other lesson to teach me. Or maybe I'm just not trying hard enough to reach him.

Part of me feels like I should identify with the second part of the passage. I mean; I'm a missionary, right? Jesus has supposedly chosen me to teach people and preach the gospel to them. I'm supposed to have this grand sense of mountaintop calling (and I have at time!). But when I've sat at 13% for weeks; when I've heard a lot of surprising "can'ts" but no exciting "wills"; I feel more and more like someone on the fringes of the crowd.

Jesus, I'm longing for your presence. But I have to confess too that I know I'm not working for it. I can't live each day with calling and spiritual self-initiative. I'm struggling to make it through each night of phone calls and each period of discouragement.

I know you're faithful. This I believe. And I know that you have timing, and a plan, and things to teach me and make me in your image. I know that it's good and it will be worth it -- like many of the other hard times I've gone through recently. In fact, I love those times because they brought me more of you. But right now I don\'t feel that reality; I just feel like I'm struggling out here on my own.

Is it right or okay to ask for comfort and encouragement about my fundraising right now? Would you provide some? It will be in your own time and way, and this I'm glad for because the last thing you need to do is to answer the needs I feel rather than the ones I have. But you know that, don't you? That's what Malawi was all about.