Living Faithfully: Trust & Obey

After reading dozens (perhaps hundreds) of college application essays this past year, I was curious of what my Admissions Counselor self would think of my high school self.  So, I re-read my college application essays.  Wow, did I have life figured out (and wrote a pretty decent essay, if I do say so myself)!

After graduating from Wheaton College, I planned to move into the city (probably St. Louis or Chicago) and teach at some struggling public school (or perhaps Scholar’s Academy).  I would eradicate illiteracy single-handedly and inculcate a love for learning in my students.  I would equip future businesspeople, doctors, lawyers, etc., who would return to the northside of St. Louis after college and rebuild our neighborhood.  I’m a dreamer, and I dreamed big.

...and then, I decided not to teach.  And I moved back to Wheaton.

At a time when I can move anywhere in the world, why would I move to the quintessential suburb of Wheaton?  The short answer is that God plopped a job in my lap, and I would’ve been an idiot not to take it.  (And I do love my job.)  However, I still despised the suburbs.  As my roommates can attest, I ranted and raved.  Part of one such rant can be found here.  Yet, I had committed to my job for at least two years, so my external circumstances were defined.  The lingering question was: what would define my internal posture?  When I named my blog (“Inner Urban, Outer Suburban - Living Faithfully”) last December, I wanted the title to remind me of an internal posture that I seek to cultivate: faithfulness.

Regardless of externalities (location, church, friends, job, family, relationship status, whatever), I am called to live faithfully within those boundaries.  Every day, every moment, I want to give up a little bit more of my self-centered self (a bit redundant, eh?) and partake in a little bit more of the Giver of abundant life.

One of my dad's favorite songs (and has become one of mine, too) is "Trust and Obey."  I want trust and obedience to shape both my external boundaries and my internal posture.  This is the best recording that I could find (you would not believe how many mediocre Christian artists I had to wade through to find this... come on, people!).

Trust and obey, for there’s no other way
To be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.

When we walk with the Lord in the light of His Word,
What a glory He sheds on our way!
While we do His good will, He abides with us still,
And with all who will trust and obey.

Not a burden we bear, not a sorrow we share,
But our toil He doth richly repay;
Not a grief or a loss, not a frown or a cross,
But is blessed if we trust and obey.

But we never can prove the delights of His love
Until all on the altar we lay;
For the favor He shows, for the joy He bestows,
Are for them who will trust and obey.

Then in fellowship sweet we will sit at His feet.
Or we’ll walk by His side in the way.
What He says we will do, where He sends we will go;
Never fear, only trust and obey.

A Peruvian Education: Part II (Qorikancha)

While in Cusco, Peru, we visited Qorikancha.  During the height of the Inca empire (approx. 1400 - 1532), Qorikancha was the most important Incan temple.  The walls of this temple were literally covered in gold; hence, the Quechua* name “Qorikancha,” translated “Golden Temple.” 

That is, Qorikancha was covered in gold before the Spanish conquistadors arrived in 1532.  When the Spanish invaded Cusco, the capital of the Incan empire, they were a bit greedy (as invaders tend to be).  Within nine months, the Spanish had melted down all of the gold in Qorikancha and sent most of it back to Spain.

The Spanish also brought Catholicism with them.  Qorikancha originally had five temples, dedicated to the gods of the sun (father), moon (mother), stars (children), rainbow, and lightning.  The Spanish demolished part of Qorikancha while searching for more gold, then realized that gold was not hidden within the stone walls or floors, and incorporated the remaining Incan stonework** into the construction of a Spanish colonial building.  Qorikancha was rebuilt as a cathedral, the Church of Santo Domingo.  It still functions as a cathedral.

This diagram demonstrates the Quechua conception of God:

Our tour guide pointed out the sun, moon, stars, rainbow, and lightning, as well as the Inca (the king) and his wife and a few other objects associated with divinity.  However, you will also notice a large oval with a triangle in the middle.  This represents God.  According to our tour guide, the Quechua people believed that there was really only one God.  However, they did not build God a temple because it is impossible to build something significant enough for a Supreme Being.  You cannot contain God.  The sun, moon, stars, etc., were merely expressions of His divinity, only significant because they were physical manifestations of a Being beyond comprehension, linking humanity with God.

This reminded me of a wise man, Solomon, who once said, during the dedication of an incredibly impressive temple,

“But will God indeed dwell on the earth?  Behold, heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you; how much less this house that I have built!  Yet have regard to the prayer of your servant and to his plea, O LORD my God, listening to the cry and to the prayer that your servant prays before you this day, that your eyes may be open night and day toward this house, the place of which you have said, ‘My name shall be there, that you may listen to the prayer that your servant offers toward this place.’  And listen to the plea of your servant and of your people Israel, when they pray toward this place.  And listen in heaven your dwelling place, and when you hear, forgive” (I Kings 8:27-30).

What an incredible God.
 
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*Quechua refers both to the people and the language of native Peruvians (at least, those native to the highlands/mountains of Peru; there were other people groups along the coast and in the jungle).  The title Inca refers to the king of the Quechua, but the Spanish used the term to refer to the entire people group.  I will probably use the terms Quechua and Inca to refer to the same people.

Inca stone wall at Machu Picchu, Peru.

**Inca stonework is astounding.  While the Spanish colonial buildings crumbled during massive earthquakes in 1650 and 1950, the Inca stonework barely moved.  The stones fit together perfectly without mortar.  There were 18 different Inca techniques for stonework.  Alas, the computer is being funky and will not allow me to upload a few favorite stonework pictures, so these will have to do for now:

Sun temple at Qorikancha (note the reflection of the Spanish pillars in the background... alas, we were not permitted to take pictures of the Spanish aspects added to Qorikancha due to colonial paintings sensitive to flash photography.)

Part of the Inca ruins at Sasquahuaman, Cusco, Peru.  This stonework obviously differs in technique from the other pictures, but I thought I'd highlight the sheer size of some of the stones.

A Peruvian Education: Part I (Geography)

Preface: Since my job has a summer break, I’m traveling around this summer, visiting family and friends in Peru and the U.S. (Nashville, Seattle, St. Louis, Colorado).  In Peru, I’m visiting my cousin Kaite and her husband Chris.  They live in Lima, and Chris is a hydrogeologist contractor (usually working with mining companies, since the mining industry in Peru is booming).

Chris’ Peruvian coworker once asked him, “So, what do U.S. citizens think of when they think of Peru?  Pisco sours?  Incan ruins and Spanish conquistadors?  Machu Picchu?”

Umm...well, the average U.S. citizen probably draws a blank when considering Peru.  Most could locate Peru as a Spanish-speaking country in South America.  Some may think of Machu Picchu but may have difficulty pinpointing its location to Peru (“it’s somewhere in South America”).  Alas, I’m guilty of ignorance, too.

It’s a good thing that I was an education major, because you’re about to get an elementary education about Peru.  

Actually, this post will only be a geographical introduction; further posts will include more history and culture, including pisco sours, Machu Picchu, and the Spanish and Quechua/Inca peoples. Also, beware: I love figuring out how things work, which is why I was a physics concentration and why you may not find this blog post especially interesting.
 
For the visual learners (myself included!), let's start with a map:
 


As you can see, Peru is...
- in South America (not Central America).
- barely south of the equator.  (Hence, Peru is in the tropics.)

On this map, notice the bordering countries (and the location of Lima, Cusco and Machu Picchu):

 

For the kinesthetic learners, feel free to build a 3-D model of this topographical map:

Notice that everything east of the Andes mountains is fairly tropical/jungle. Tributaries of the Amazon River (Amazon = largest volume and second longest river in the world) begin in the Andean mountains and flow east across South America (mostly across Brazil), emptying into the Atlantic Ocean. I won't be visiting the jungles of Peru, so this will be the only mention of that region.

Look at Lima, the capital and largest city (population approx. 10 million), sandwiched between the Pacific Ocean and the Andean mountains.  As a coastal city, it’s quite humid.  Yet since we’re next to the mountains, the clouds are trapped and remain on top of Lima (especially in winter, which in the Southern Hemisphere, is right now).  Chris and Kaite call it “Styrofoam days,” the winter months in which an impenetrable blanket of clouds/fog hangs over the Lima.

Now, look at Cusco (also spelled “Cuzco”; biggest Peruvian tourist destination, partially due to its proximity to Machu Picchu; population approx. 500,000).  At a 10,000 ft. elevation, it’s smack in the middle of the Andes mountain range.  Yet, Peru is in the tropics.  A mountain range in the tropics?  Yes, a bit bizarre.  We (Kaite, Chris, myself, and Kaite’s family) flew from Lima to Cusco on Saturday, May 26, and came back to Lima on Thursday, May 31, with a 24-hour trip to Machu Picchu on Tuesday/Wednesday.  Going from sea level (literally, Lima is on the coast) to Cusco's 10,000 foot elevation within an hour plane ride wreaks a bit of havoc upon human bodies.  We spent Saturday afternoon lounging about our hotel and trying to breathe.  No seriously, walking across the room would make our hearts pound and lungs gasp (higher elevation = thinner atmosphere = less oxygen = body working harder to keep breathing and circulating blood).  Thankfully, God created a remarkable human body, and we adjusted fairly well by the following day.  

Anyways, as I was saying, Cusco is in both the mountains and the tropics.  Thus, in the midday equatorial sun, I was comfortable in a t-shirt and shorts (and it’s winter here!).  But, if I stepped into the shade, it felt like a 20 degree difference, and I quickly grabbed my sweater.  Once the sun set, the warmth evaporated.  Heading out for dinner on our first night (dinner in Peru = 2-hour event that begins around 8 p.m.), I wore long underwear, two sweatshirts, a scarf, and a hat... and was still a bit chilly (a reminder that we were indeed in the mountains).  Cusco is a funky place.  

Ok, it's 10 a.m., and I have yet to eat breakfast. Oh, long-windedness! This concludes our lesson on Peru's geography. Stay tuned for further lessons.

Englewood & Expression

Watching a video recording of my fifth grade musical theater debut, in which I starred as one of the main characters Chrysanthamantha in a production "Ants'hillvania,"* I thank God for families who laughed at our poor jokes and graciously overlooked our amateur acting and frequent blunders.  Children learn and grow.  Adults learn and grow, too, though we often find adult blunders less cute and easier to mock.

Yesterday, at the Art Institute of Chicago, my roommate Robin explained to me the interweaving of time periods, influential predecessors, colors, textures, shapes, perspectives, emotions, light, and techniques involved in Van Gogh's haystack paintings.  Later in the evening, I expressed a sentiment that I've frequently felt while perusing art galleries... sure, it's impressive and well-done, but couldn't someone else have painted water lilies that look just like Monet's?  My wise roommate rejected this notion and, instead, articulated a vision of art as a visual representation of a thought process.  People express themselves through a plethora of avenues.  As a verbose extrovert, I often express myself or sort through lingering thoughts via talking with people.  However, playing piano and singing express my thoughts and emotions in ways that talking never could.  My ceramics pieces from last summer will probably never be displayed in a museum (nor should they be), but the process of creating and expressing was nonetheless worthwhile.

I could launch into a discussion about executing a task with excellence (highly valued in Western culture) versus embracing the messiness of learning, but I won't.

Instead, I'll share the video that prompted these thoughts in the first place.  Almost two years ago, I spent a semester living in Chicago while enrolled in Wheaton College's Urban Studies program.  During "Wheaton in Chicago," I interned with a social service called Children's Home & Aid and taught an after-school science club for 3rd-5th graders at a public school on the South Side of Chicago, in a neighborhood called Englewood.  Although I was woefully unprepared for preparing interesting science experiments and corralling 25 kids who had already spent the entire day sitting in school without recess and had a wide variety of academic abilities (some third graders could hardly read while some fifth graders could have taught the science club better than me), I grew to love these kids.

Thus, when my friend showed me a video that some of my former students and their classmates created, I couldn't help but feel proud.  Proud of my students expressing themselves through music.

Not only does art express the artist's emotion, but it also evokes emotion in the viewer.  Watching this video, I felt proud of the artists, yet also knew the weightiness of feeling abandoned and looked down upon by society at large and the pressure to "make it."

*This telling of the Prodigal Son featured an ant community, as well as other insects (the worm was my favorite!), with many ridiculous ant puns throughout the show.

What it means to be family

My parents started foster care a year ago.  Thus far, we've only had one baby boy for about six months.  Even though I was physically present for less than three weeks total with this little guy, he captured my heart.  When he left, there was a gaping hole.  My feelings of loss and overflowing tears astonished me with their frequency and intensity.  Visiting him at Thanksgiving only reminded me of the raw tenderness of his absence.

Perhaps I will feel differently if the next foster child doesn't smile at me adoringly, giggle repeatedly at my antics, or snuggle with me for a nap.

I doubt it.

This little boy became my brother.  He belonged in my family.  I loved hearing his soft babbling or even aggravated cries in the background of my phone calls home.  I loved hearing my mom speak "baby talk" with him.  I loved having my old bedroom transformed into a nursery and finding an assortment of swings, burp cloths, and rattling toys all over the house.

Even though he's gone, I still have four brothers.  He's in my family, though not physically present.  The next foster child will become my sibling, too.

Actually, I have more than four brothers.  I have millions.  Some of them are homeless, others are millionaires; some are white, others black; some live in the middle of nowhere, others live in skyscrapers.  I also have millions of sisters.  I don't know them all personally.  But, we belong together.

Russell Moore, the author of Adopted for Life, spoke on February 26, 2012, at College Church's Missions Conference.  I highly recommend listening to it.  "In God the Orphan Finds Mercy" reminds me that I belong.  We belong.  I love his point about how we evangelicals talk about "giving your life to God."  God doesn't want your life.  It's a wreck.  Instead, embrace what God gives: a new identity, a new family.  Fully known and accepted.

And welcoming others into that family.

Are You Dating Yet?

Confession:  I’m reading a dating book. 

Disclaimer: I got it at a white elephant exchange. 

But, I am actually reading it.  And I like it.  In addition to offering insight into dating relationships, the book also addresses relationships in general.  It’s called Boundaries in Dating by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend.  In the third chapter, after discussing the importance of surrendering the relationship to God, Cloud and Townsend continue:

“The alternative to surrender in dating is idolatry.  Though dating is a good thing, we can commit idolatry by demanding that dating bring us the love, fulfillment, or desire we want without allowing God to point the way.  Dating brings up powerful emotions and needs, and so idolatry can become a reality” (51).

So true.  Dating, marriage, friendship, community... relationships with people easily become my idols.  And I’m not even dating anybody.  But I often think, oh, if I only was dating this person or hung out more with that friend or joined this group of people, then I would feel less lonely.

The evangelical subculture doesn’t help much.  Singles can be seen as not-yet-married persons.  People often ask if there’s a man in my life.  Nope.  That’s my one-word response; I don’t have much else to say on the topic.  I’m single now and may be forever.  I don’t ask my married friends if their marital status has changed (and I pray that it won’t), but I’m often asked if my single status has changed.  There’s almost an assumption that it should change.  If you’re an awesome person, then someone will be attracted to that awesomeness and marry you.¹  Maybe.  Or, maybe you can use that awesomeness to draw others’ attention toward the giver of that awesomeness (which Christian married persons can do as well) and invest in His people. 

I know that most who ask if I’m dating someone are asking because they care about me and what’s going on in my life, and it’s not the only topic we discuss.  However, it does seem to reoccur terribly often and is almost the default question when we can’t think of anything else to ask.  We can easily become obsessed with marriage and romantic relationships. 

Understandably, our U.S. pop culture is obsessed with sensuality, and we (well, most of the people who are reading this blog) live in that culture; thus, we often christianize sensuality into its biblically-approved context of marriage.  Since life is meaningless without sex and romantic passion, let’s all get married asap so that we don’t miss out!  Momentarily ignoring my mockery, this is somewhat biblical: ^“Now to the unmarried and the widows I say: It is good for them to stay unmarried, as I do.  But if they cannot control themselves, they should marry, for it is better to marry than to burn with passion” (1 Corinthians 7:8-9).  But, as any married person knows, marriage involves more than sex.  Yet I often forget this.  I want to be known, to be loved.  Sex is intimate.  Therefore, I often idolize sex (within marriage) as the key to being known and loved.  However, sex (and by extension, other expressions of intimacy and community) is not about fulfilling my needs.  It’s about being fully present for the other.  For sex in particular,

Intimacy depends on the willingness to give of the self, to place oneself in the hands of another, to be vulnerable, even if that means we may be hurt... jealousy is the emotion required by our willingness to love another at all.  Indeed, I suspect that part of the reason the church has always assumed that marriage is a reality that is prior to love is that genuine love is so capable of destruction that we need a structure to sustain us through the pain and joy of it.  At least one reason for sex being limited to marriage... is that marriage provides the context for us to have sex, with its often compromising personal conditions, with the confidence that what the other knows about us will not be used to hurt us (A Community of Character, 181).

For the single person, we are also called to be fully present for the other and not shy away from the demands of intimacy.  Celibacy is not about independence.  Singleness is not about forgoing responsibility and fleeing the demands of community.  No, all Christians are dependent upon others, and ultimately, dependent upon God.

We must not confuse creature and Creator.  I must flee from thoughts that center around myself.  Marriage exists for my needs to be met.  Sex happens so that I can feel known and loved.  Flirting with that cute guy makes me feel desirable.  Flee.  Flee.  Flee.

Instead, knowing God and who I am in relationship to Him must be the core of my identity.

At this point, I must apologize to all married and single persons reading this.  I do not wish to make anyone feel guilty for asking me if I’m dating someone.  By all means, feel free to ask!  Chances are, if I’m actually dating someone, you will have probably already heard about it through the grapevine or I may actually mention it myself since it’s a reasonable life change to mention to someone who cared about me.  But I’m also ok with making you feel a little guilty for expecting all single people to get married or inadvertently suggesting a superiority of marriage over singleness. Sometimes, marriage seems viewed as a sign of adulthood, implying a deficiency in those that never marry or perhaps marry later in life.

“Marriage is not the default.  Neither is singleness.”²  Both are beautiful expressions of the Christian life.

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¹A variation on this message has also been perverted to promote abstinence.  If you save sex for marriage, then you’re both guaranteed eventually to get married and to have mind-blowing sex that will be worth the wait.  Funny how we use sex to sell abstinence.  For more perspective on this topic, check out Dr. Christine Gardner’s book Making Chastity Sexy: the Rhetoric of Evangelical Abstinence Campaigns.  (She’s a Wheaton communications professor.)

²Dr. George Kalantzis.  Dr. K is a Wheaton Bible & theology professor who led a breakfast club last year with me and a handful of others... perhaps the highlight of my senior year.  We read Stanley Hauerwas’ A Community of Character, which quickly found a home in my favorite books’ list and may poke its head into future blog posts.

Death by Suburbs

In the city, I’ve witnessed a drive-by shooting in broad daylight.  I’ve seen someone hurl his body through my neighbor’s glass window for no apparent reason.  I’ve had friends robbed at gunpoint.

Yet I’m terrified of living in the suburbs.

I’m terrified of living a complacent life.  I’m terrified of not connecting with God because I’m not connected with those who have seemingly been abandoned by all but God.  I’m terrified of perfect pretenses.  I’m terrified of striving for success as the rest of the (even Christian) world sees it.  I’m terrified of living for myself.

Thus, when I found this book, I knew I had to read it.  The book’s title was enough to capture my attention: Death by Suburb, How to Keep the Suburbs from Killing Your Soul.

The author, David L. Goetz, grew up on a farm, but eventually found himself a resident in good ol’ Wheaton, Illinois.  In the book, Goetz focuses on eight suburban “environmental toxins” and eight spiritual practices that help counteract those toxins. 

Prior to reading this book, I had an inkling that it might be possible both to be a Christian and to live in suburbia, but I had no idea what that looked like.  Since I’m currently committed to living in the suburbs for at least the next year and a half, the book has been wonderfully practical.  The suburbs are toxic.  So is the city, in different ways.  In fact, every piece of our cosmos is in bondage to sin.  Thus, the answer is not necessarily to flee from the environment (though sometimes that is necessary, in order to see the environment for what it truly is; also, some environments are too toxic for some individuals... i.e. a recovering alcoholic at a bar or a suburban mom at a beauty parlor.  And no, it’s not sinful to have a pedicure or a beer.  But, if you have to have it, it is controlling you.  In psychology, we call those things addictions.  In Christian-speak, idols.).  Instead of running away, we must learn how to live faithfully within that environment.

In chapter six, Goetz addresses the environmental toxin of “I need to make a difference with my life.”  This toxin does not necessarily refer to the young person who sincerely wants to serve Christ; instead, it refers to a “shirker.”  Shirkers are “religious folk who inadvertently disengage from the suffering of the world and who unwittingly collect to themselves every available religious experience” (100).

Pardon the length of this quote, but I found myself quite resonating with the prototype of Shirker Mom:

The Shirker Life, ultimately, is a life of religious consumption – even the act of service – organized around life stages.

Take Shirker Mom, for example, who in midlife finds herself with more time for herself now that her last child has gone off to college.  She wants her Shirker Husband to join her in switching churches, to one that uses words like sacrament and Eucharist instead of Lord’s Supper, which their current “Bible-believing” congregation uses.  She has been feeling spiritually empty for some time and feels the need for a little more mystery and symbolism in worship on Sunday mornings.

Shirker Mom can remember the first time she “accepted Jesus Christ as her personal Lord and Savior”: she was six and raised her hand on the final day of vacation Bible school.  A good Shirker Girl, she participated in and became a leader in the active junior high and senior high group at her Shirker Church.  The teen mission trip to Tijuana, Mexico, where the team used homemade puppets to teach vacation Bible school to Mexican children, changed her life.

A bright Shirker Teen, she decided to attend a top Christian college, where she met a Shirker Boy, and after the spring of their senior year, the Shirker, believing that God had brought them together for a purpose, got married.  Shirker Husband then landed a job in finance, and by the time the Shirkers hit thirty, they had the largest house of the five couples in their small group from church.  By then the Shirker Family had expanded to two Shirker Kids.  After the kids came and with Shirker Husband traveling so much, when Shirker Mom began to feel lonely for adult relationships, she joined a ministry for other Shirker Moms with preschool children.  Shirker Mom loved the Bible study and spiritual friendships.  She became a discussion group leader for the other Shirker Moms.

When the Shirkers’ oldest, a ten-year-old, came home from school one day asking whether kissing a girl’s breasts was really making out, Shirker Mom had had enough.  No more public education.  She was also tired of textbooks that taught only evolution, and besides, the education was better at the Shirker Christian academy, wasn’t it?  Didn’t the kids also get an education in character?  Plus, her two Shirker Boys would get solid Bible teaching and attend chapel at least three times a week.  Shirker Mom was not about to leave her Shirker Kids to the sharks in the public school system.  One day, as she waited for her two boys outside the Christian academy after school in her late-model black SUV, she thanked Jesus for the blessing of a truly Christian education.  She felt so blessed.

But now that both Shirker Boys were away at a Christian college, Shirker Mom felt the need for a deeper sense of Jesus in her life.  For years she had heard about a charismatic mainline church in their community that, according to a neighbor who attended, also “preached the gospel.”  It took only one visit and she knew she had found a new spiritual home.  Her spiritually passive Shirker Husband was mostly supportive; he said he never really connected with the men in their old Shirker Church anyway.

Shirker Mom loved the new angle on God and taking the Eucharist every week. (She just loved the word Eucharist; it sounded so mysterious.)  She soaked up weekly scripture reading from the Lectionary.  It was as if everything she had been yearning for spiritually the past couple of years was met, finally in this new community.  Her Shirker Husband said he liked the fact that they could now sit anonymously in the pews, with no expectation to serve.  He always hated being an usher.  Shirker Mom missed the strong emphasis on scripture in her former Bible church, and that concerned her a bit, but she began to feel a deep sense of healing in her life.  She now leads a Bible study and is excited to see other suburban moms apply scripture to their lives.  It feels so good to be involved in something that makes a difference in people’s lives.

The flow of Shirker Religion is all one direction: toward me (or my kids).  And after my kids make it safely through high school, it’s back on me again – and my need for mystery and a sense of authenticity as I move through the often muted years of midlife and beyond.  Shirkers believe the Shirker thought leaders (preachers, Christian pundits, and theologians), who always frame the problems of the suburban world in terms of too little Bible and not enough truth.  The solutions are always more knowledge and more teaching and more education and more content.  Or it’s more mystery in worship or some other new angle.  Shirkers live, mostly, inside their heads. (109-112)

This is why I want to flee the suburbs.  I’m terrified of becoming Shirker Mom.

This is also why I hate being described as “nice”.  Teddy bears are nice.  Where do you see “nice” in the fruits of the Spirit?  (Do not confuse kindness with niceness.)  No, a Spirit-filled life is not one that should be primarily characterized as “nice”.  Ranting aside...

How do I avoid becoming Shirker Mom?

Goetz’s corresponding spiritual practice is to “pursue action without the thought of results or success” (115).

What might that look like?

Goetz again: “You obey God’s mandate to help the poor and the widows and the orphans (James 1).  You find a place to serve where no matter how many resources you leverage for the kingdom of God, you don’t see much change.  You enter into a relationship with someone of raw emotional and physical need.  No doubt there are other, more sophisticated methods to make a difference in the world (protests, political influence, financial aid).  But if you detach from the emotion and reality of the suffering of others, your soul distends.  You become like Zarathustra’s ghoulish image of an inverted cripple.  Too much of the Shirker Life causes bloating” (115).

One of the most life-giving times of my week is an hour and a half on Sunday evenings, when I get to hang out and color with about ten 3-8-year-old girls who hail from three different continents and whose names I still struggle to pronounce. 

Sometimes, I wonder if I love kids just because they love me.  What’s not to love about their hugs, honest prayers, or even the way they use me as a human jungle gym?  Last Sunday, I realized that one of the girls might perhaps be termed a compulsive liar.  That’s probably a bit extreme, but that realization suddenly made the cuteness of her innocent face... not so cute.  When I feel used or my trust is broken, if I am to continue in that relationship (with healthy boundaries), it cannot be about me or my fulfillment anymore.  It’s about loving Jesus.