Mission as a gift from God

So today was an interesting day. In my mentoring time I really began to struggle with thoughts about why I do what I do. More specifically, what is it that I have to offer? What are my gifts, talents, etc. that I bring to ministry/mission. This has been an on again off again struggle for me. The reality is that I need to be more focused on my identity in Christ, that is, not define myself by what I can do or what I bring to the table but what He has to say about me. Part of the struggle is that I can't find ministry that I am truly passionate about and I can't remember doing something that really brought me energy and made me alive. Sure I've done ministry that I've enjoyed, music mostly, but I know that there is more than that for me, something beyond what I've been doing. There is something that lays untapped, dormant in my soul. Maybe the key is in finding my true identity, my name in God.

But that's not why I'm writing this.

I'm still working on all that stuff, but in the midst of that struggle God has given me a gift. In His great love and mercy for me He allowed me to experience something amazing tonight.

Tuesday nights are our normal ministry nights with the Zim refugees. So, like normal, Jody, Manatsa and I went out to the camp. We normally just hang out for a while, waiting for some of the guys to get out of work and just generally visiting with people that we know. After a little while a few guys that we know and that occasionally come out to the bible study walked to the middle of the camp and started to sing in Shona. When I asked someone told me that they were singing "We are here to pray, come pray with us." I hadn't ever seen them do this before, so we went and joined in with them (yes, I do occasionally sing in Shona, though I have no idea what I'm saying). At one point the "leader" gave a signal then we all got on our knees to pray. It followed suit like this for a while, occasionally someone would start reading scripture and preaching. It was amazing. Then one of the guys came to me while they were singing and handed me a Bible, whispering to me "Can you give us a word?" How on earth can I turn that down?

Now, I have preached before, but I wouldn't label that as one of my top favourite things to do. It's also something that I really feel like I need to prepare for. I do believe that I have the gift of teaching, but not necessarily in that setting or with that little time. But they wanted me to do it. They wanted to hear the word of the Lord. So while they were singing and some others were sharing I did a quick thumb through this KJV New Testament and when it came time I stood up and I preached. Now one thing you should understand about African church culture, it's very much lively and loud. I don't care if it's a Baptist, Methodist, Assembly of God, pick your denomination, these people know how to preach. So, in the best lively way I could, I talked to them about how love goes beyond what we think is necessary, about loving your enemies, and about how when we don't love perfectly we are still connected to God because nothing can separate us from Him. I finished (much faster than my Shona speaking brothers) and we sang another couple of songs and then it was back down to our knees for everyone to pray.

In that moment I realized what had just happened. God had given me that moment as a gift. It was as if He was saying to me "Chris, I know you're having a hard time right now. I know you want to have it all figured out, to know what it is you're supposed to do, and soon you will. Until then, I give this moment in time to you. Treasure it. Let it drive you forward in your journey. I just wanted you to know that I'm still here and I care." It was all I could do to praise Him and give Him thanks. When I was struggling most with my calling and gifting He gave me an opportunity right in the middle of my ministry to do just that, to minister.

That feels like a lot of rambling, I'm still just really excited about it all (this happened about 2 hours ago). I guess what I'm really beginning to understand is that mission is more than just what we do for others. When we are doing what God has made us to do, what we were always meant to do, mission is a gift to us from God.

Thin places in the Kingdom...

At this moment I’m suddenly encouraged by thoughts of the kingdom.

That may seem like a weird statement (when I read it I think it is) but I’ve come to find that in my life I have these bizarre moments where my heart feels warm and I realize that I’m in one of those “thin places” where the kingdom of God is so near that I feel as if I could just reach through and step into it.

Maybe I’ve had too many cups of coffee, maybe it’s just a combination music, reading blogs, looking at pictures, and thinking about my own emotional state that just create this moment. I honestly don’t know. I do believe, however, that God is near. He is so very near, at every moment, and that there are just some moments that He knows we need Him to touch our hearts. It’s like when a significant other spontaneously says that thing you love to hear or just gently touches you at the right moment and you feel the love that you crave when you weren’t even expecting it. We’ve done nothing in that moment to deserve/ask for this love, but they freely give it because of their mysterious love for us (mysterious because I sometimes wonder why anyone would ever or could ever love me).

I’ve actually been experiencing love in a new way this week. I dove off a cliff (metaphorically speaking) into a new realm of community, laying bare my heart in scary, embarrassing, intimate ways. I sometimes still feel strange when I look around at people who now know my heart more than some ever will and feel extremely vulnerable. There are people who now have the knowledge and power to hurt me at the very core of who I am. They can throw salt into and rip open a wound that has been healing for years (and isn’t quite healed yet.

Their response, love.

They have loved me and continue to see me through this time. When you live in that tension of being able to be hurt by anyone by no one does it community reaches a whole new dimension. The question was asked, and is still being asked, what if this is what community always looked like?

I believe that this is what the kingdom looks like, a place where we experience it not just in serving and intentional times of seeking, but in the random (or not so random) moments when we feel unloved and abandoned, moments where we least expect to feel the touch of God. It’s in those moments, too, that the kingdom is near.