Saturday, November 1, 2008

Dear God,

Tonight I took a whirlwind trip to Russia, to the Middle East, to Africa and back home. Along the way I visited churches, a couple of hospitals, and a slab of concrete that would become a library. I returned to a former parsonage. I saw faces of the faithful, children in need. I saw an extended filthy hand of a six year old boy who lived in the garbage dump of Cairo with his family. His handed was extended not asking for coins but rather offered with hospitality.

Because I am preaching on risk-taking service and mission tomorrow you lead me backwards, to places I never dreamed in my early life I would ever visit. I saw poverty, persecution, and suffering. But I also heard and saw the stories in real life, of faith lived in the midst of it. I realized the goodness of your grace as I witnessed my own experiences of mission and service. I had to acknowledge what happens when we allow ourselves to travel into another culture, one where there is so much lacking and yet, surprisingly, joy. Joy in the small things.

I wondered if I could possibly in just a few minutes interest my flock in caring about others at a deep level. Because there is so much that happens in the human heart and soul when we encounter people who live simply and expect so little, the experience changes things for everybody. We gain so much more than we give and our conscience is pricked at a place needing pricked.

As I turned off the light I was grateful for my mini tour, reminding me of what I have and what I need to give away, so much, so very much.

I dare not
look you
in the eye,
Most Holy God.
I have
so much.
I confess
that I do not love
my neighbor
as much
as myself.
I live
my life
in comfort
while my neighbors suffer.
Prick me often,
Lord,
I pray.

Love, Andrea