May 24th marked our two-year anniversary! To celebrate, we traveled to the quaint
little town of Dullstroom, which is 2.5 hours away from where we are in White
River, and spent the weekend there. It
was a lovely couple of days filled with a walk through the town, a short hike
near the dam and lots of eating (as I’m sure you could guess)! It’s incredible that 2 years has passed since
we exchanged vows and committed our lives to each other!
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| A picture from our hike in Dullstroom |
Something else happened on that weekend, however, that took
a little bit of shine off our little getaway. As we settled in for the night in our cozy
little lodge, we received an email from George, the founder of Hands at
Work. His email was in response to another
email that we had all received from the day before where one of our Service
Centre Coordinators informed the Hands family that a child they were caring for
had passed away. The details were
few. All we were told was that her name
was Melissa. At the time, I remember
reading the email, feeling sad, but then getting on with my day. After all, I had never known or met Melissa. George’s email the following day shed a
little more light on Melissa and the fact that she had suffered much sexual abuse
throughout her life and that she died as a result of this abuse. He followed by challenging us on what we are
doing as a community to prevent these types of tragedies from happing to the
children in our care.
Though George’s email was only a paragraph long, it hit me
hard. I felt helpless in knowing how to
respond but knew we needed to turn to prayer. Diane started by thanking God for our weekend
and for our marriage. She followed up by
saying that we don’t take the things we have been blessed with for
granted. As she spoke the words, I felt the
sharp pierce of conviction in my heart.
They are words that we speak frequently but, too often, flippantly and
this time I could not let it go. As we
laid in our beautifully decorated guest room, having just a few hours earlier indulged
in a fantastic, 3-course dinner, I could not help but acknowledge that we do,
in fact, take everything – who we
are, what we do, what we have – for granted.
There is a danger in being too comfortable. And I recognize that we have allowed
ourselves to fall into that rut. As
missionaries in Africa, it is far too easy for us to feel that we are immune
from such danger. We get showered with
praise from others back home who tell us that what we are doing is so
admirable, that we are such good people for sacrificing so much, and that they
could never do what we are doing. It’s
uncomfortable for us to hear those words and we cringe at the thought of being
looked upon in that light. The brutal
and ugly truth, however, is that we allow ourselves to revel in the praise from
time to time.
The logic, you see, is simple. We left our family and friends and our
comfortable lives back home. We gave up
well-paying jobs and sacrificed years of income earning. All of this was done in the name of serving
orphaned and vulnerable children in Africa.
Surely, we have sacrificed more than our fair share; enough, at least,
to deflect any guilt or conviction that could arise from how we respond to
situations like Melissa’s.
The reality is that it couldn’t be any further from the
truth. Yes, we have sacrificed. Yes, we continue to serve. But it hasn’t prevented us from holding on
tightly to what we have and seeking a comfortable life for ourselves. This is not to say that we should feel guilty
for the things we have or that it is wrong for us take a vacation or treat
ourselves to a nice dinner from time to time.
We fully recognize that we grew up in a different world than the
children we serve in Africa and that, no matter how hard we try to align our
lives with theirs, the disparity will always be vast. In the same vein, there needs to be a
recognition that the way we live our lives and the things we allow ourselves to
indulge in is so far removed from the lives of those that we serve. And it should make us uncomfortable.
As we prayed for a teenage girl who we never met, whose name
we could not even put a face to, I felt the shame of allowing myself to become
desensitized to the plight of so many children’s stories and the tragedy of
loss we too often deal with in our line of work. It’s stories like Melissa’s that should be
ripping my heart to shreds. Instead, I
allow myself to be too far removed from having any understanding of her life
despite committing myself to serving children like her. I hear the news, say a quick prayer, and get
back to enjoying the comforts of my life.
I am happy to serve and give my life on the mission field, so long as I
can continue to live comfortably. True,
my gauge of what I need to be comfortable has changed drastically from two
years ago, which is definitely a good thing.
But I have far to go before I truly understand what it means to live sacrificially.
The truth is, I should understand sacrifice well. The Bible speaks in no uncertain terms of
what Christ asks of His followers.
The Poor Widow
As he looked up, Jesus saw the rich putting
their gifts into the temple treasury. He
also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. “I tell you the truth,” he said, “this poor
widow has put in more than all the others.
All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of
her poverty put in all she had to live on.”
- (Luke 21:1-4)
I’ve heard the Parable of the Poor Widow a hundred times
before, yet, I refuse to allow it to take hold of my life. When I used to earn income, I tithed my 10%
towards the church, towards sponsoring children and missionaries, and various
other charitable causes. I felt like I
more than did my part, especially when I compared myself to others who gave
less. But I only ever gave out of my
wealth. I treated the 10% as the requirement
rather than the starting point. The
issue runs deeper than just money. It
also applies to what I give of myself
– to God and to others. The Bible’s
greatest commandment: Love God with all
your heart, soul and mind. And love
others as you would yourself.
(Matthew 22:37-39) I can’t help
but wonder how different my life would look – the things I would devote my time,
my resources, and my heart to – if I actually lived those words out.
Early on in our time with Hands, we were told by some very
wise people that we only experience true life when we learn to live
sacrificially. At the time, I pretended
to agree and fully embrace the depth of what that really meant. I now realize that I’m only beginning to
scratch the surface.
Another parable in the Bible speaks loud and clear to this
very subject – the Parable of the Rich Ruler – and it makes me squirm every
time. If you don’t know it, the story
goes like this: A rich man asks Jesus what he must do to experience true
life. He has steadfastly kept to all the
commandments ever since he was a boy and, yet, he knew there was something
missing. Jesus’ reply: “Sell everything you have and give to the
poor, and you will have treasure in heaven.
Then come, follow me.” When
the man heard this, he became very sad because he was a man of great wealth. (Luke
18:18-24)
Surely, Jesus is not really asking that I give everything that I have. How would I survive? It’s more of a metaphor, a nice and tidy
principle to live by, that shouldn’t be taken so black and white. In my heart, however, I know I’m hiding from
the truth. Over and over again, I water down
the words of the Bible to make them fit conveniently into how I want to
live. I’m not saying that the passage
literally means that I must sell everything I have today and live in absolute
poverty. I don’t think God wants that of
us at all. Rather, I believe there is an
underlying message at the heart of the parable that I choose to ignore. If it really came down to it, if God really
asked me to give everything, would I have the faith to follow through? At the end of the day, do I really put my
trust in Him or am I too preoccupied with my own needs?
Jesus doesn’t ask for part of me or even for most of
me. He asks for all of me – everything I have and everything I am. I know this to be true – I’ve known it for a
long time – but now I want it to be true in
my life. I want to give of myself
completely, not just when it’s convenient or comfortable for me. I want to hurt when others hurt, not just
when it affects me. I want to give out
of my poverty, not just out of the excess that I have. I want to love others even when there is no
benefit to me.
I know I will, from time to time, indulge in life’s
pleasures and luxuries. I’ll take nice
vacations, eat much more than my share of delicious food, and purchase items
that cost more money than entire families see in their lifetime. Again, I’m not necessarily saying that any of
these things are wrong or that I should feel guilty for what I have been
given. The challenge lies in what I am
doing to bring myself closer and closer to stories like Melissa’s each day and
the reality that billions of people face in their lives.
So what, then, am I to do with this conviction in my heart? Will I be content in examining what I have
already sacrificed and given or will I instead ask myself how much more I can
give? Do I see the things I have as mine
or do I view them through the lens of how I can bless others through them? Will I devote myself – my time, my resources
and my heart – to further my own interests or will I learn what it means to lay
down my life and everything I have for the sake of others? I know how I should answer these questions
but I also know that I am my own worst enemy in finding ways to mask my hypocrisy. I’m not sure if I’ll ever find the perfect
balance or feel 100% comfortable about the consistency in which I strive to
live in. I do know, however, that the
conviction I feel is a good thing and that it will, and should, endure.
I am slowly learning that, in order to have any hope in
this, my motivation must not be rooted in any sense of obligation, fear or
guilt. It must be borne out of love. I don’t expect to ever fully resolve this
tension in my heart and to think that I can will myself there through sheer
effort and determination is a fool’s errand.
Rather, I know it will be a process that can take place only out of a
transformed heart. If I freely allow God
to change my heart, the things that were once so difficult for me to give up
will no longer be so. Instead, my heart
will begin to naturally let go of the things that do not matter and embrace the
things that bring me true life.
Do
not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy,
and where thieves break in and steal.
But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do
not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart
will be also.
- (Matthew 6:19-21)
I want to understand deeper and deeper that my life is not
my own; that I was not put here on earth solely to indulge in life’s pleasures and
further my self interests. Instead, I am
called to be the salt and the light in a world in desperate need of love,
compassion and grace. Through it all, I
pray for my heart to be fixed heavenward and for the faith to live it out in my
actions. For where my treasure is, there
my heart will be also.
- Byron