I realize the title of this blog seems to tackle two completely different avenues, but trust me... through a little explanation, I will attempt to intertwine them.
So, I've officially been home a week from Nicaragua, and though I thought things would get easier, they haven't. I wanted to write all last week about my experience and everything I enjoyed and learned but I couldn't figure out how to put it into words.Every time I spend 10 dollars, I think 'I just spent a 20th of a months salary for the average Nicaraguan worker' or every time I get in my car, I think 'I have a car' or when I come inside I think 'I have air conditioning' when I feed my dog I think 'she is one lucky pup'. My whole thought process has changed. I don't think I was culture shocked by the Nicaraguan way of life, I think I was culture shocked coming back across the border.
My life here in Houston is lived out on a day to day basis around coworkers, friends, and sojourners. When I left for Nicaragua I expected to be surrounded by people needing something from me as my fellow coworkers, friends and sojourners do (or seem to). Instead, God handed me people with a faith much stronger than I knew faith could be. I fell into a community of believers who strengthened each other every single day and who relied on Christ and each other from food to encouragement. A people with a vibrant prayer life, not a list of thanks and requests. There was unspeakable joy... the joy that comes from Christ and there was unspeakable peace. Looking at my life here I see joy, peace, prayer, and faith, but sadly I see self reliance more than anything else. I see someone who doesn't give everything to Christ, I hold on to pieces because, well, frankly, I can. I am an American, I'm an independent woman, and I've always taken care of myself. Fitting God into that definition of self is something I can't do very easily. I'm called to deny myself and follow Christ and it's something I haven't done with my whole being. As of late I'm struggling to figure out exactly how to and what doing that looks like. God shouldn't 'fit into' my definition of self, God should be THE definition.
For the last two years, I've had season tickets to the dynamo. Long story short, I LOVE soccer. I know stats of players, I know teams, records, line ups, all the dumb stuff. I go to the dynamo games with my grandpa and his wife, and thoroughly enjoy every second of their company, whether it be bickering, joking, or the atypical amount of alcohol my grandpa tends to consume. After every dynamo game, we pack up the car and drive to Taco Cabana on Kirby and that's where the fun begins. For the last two years, every time we go without almost fail a guy named Calvin is working there. Calvin doesn't look like he's had an easy life, lacking teeth, walks with a limp (maybe swagger), and in general would be someone I'd avoid if I were walking on the street day or night. But man... if my grandpa were a Christian, he'd be the best 'intentional person on mission' I know. My grandpa started joking with him about 2 years ago when we decided to stop by late one night and there hasn't been another place for us since. Calvin has so much joy and is ALWAYS working his job to the best of his ability. Last night, it was like a family reunion. We hadn't seen him in like 4 months because of off season and when we walked in, we all got great hugs and he was so happy to see us. He took our order, told us he had been promoted to shift manager, and brought us our food. We congratulated him on his promotion and asked what hours they had him on. He said he was working 10PM to 4AM. We were flabbergasted and then even more flabbergasted when we realized the bus doesn't run that late. We asked him how he got home (to the 3rd ward) and he told us most days he walked. He said it takes him about an hour and a half on a good night he said he has time to think and pray... um what?!? You walk an hour and a half home every day so you can have a job?!? Um... that sure did put me in my place. You know what else I noticed... he had tucked away in his back pocket a small Bible. I see this man who has obviously had a rough life, but has gotten it together and held down a job for at least the last 2 years. His joy, work ethic and great spirit... I'm gonna equate that to Christ saving him. It made me all the more joyful knowing God plucks each and every one of us out of sin and damnation and makes us co-heirs. Man, how awesome is that and how easily do I take that for granted because I have everything I could ever want or need?
Even today I ask myself 'am I truly believing that everything is in God's hands?' I find myself wondering how to remove my definition of self, look to Christ, and have pure, undefiled joy and faith that He is in control. I need the faith of the village and the joy of Calvin to continually stir my emotions and remind me that Christ is in control and his will is best. Being an American and having so much 'stuff' doesn't make me dependent on Christ. It makes me thankful he provides, sure, but it doesn't point me back to what I should well know... if my world would fall apart tomorrow and I had nothing but my faith and Christ... that would be more that I could ever hope for.
'As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God...' -2 Timothy 6:17
