What an incredible two weeks... Let me start by warning you all that this blog entry may end up being longer than my others, and it's also very likely that I might jump around a bit in subject matter. I'm writing a little bit at a time, and I'm writing from the convictions that I feel at a given time. Bear with me, and I hope you'll be blessed.
First, I had the opportunity to interview at my Alma Mater, Tuscaloosa County High School for what would have been what I considered my dream job - teaching and coaching there. There were over 170 applicants for that one position. I was blessed enough to land one of the 15 interview slots, and the interview went extremely well. Although I didn't get the job, I am thankful to have even had the opportunity to interview. I would, however, be lying if I told you I wasn't disappointed. Even though I am disappointed, I can take this as a clear answer from God that this isn't what he had in mind for me... at least not right now. I'm okay with that.
Second, Whitney and I were able to go on a mission trip to Monterrey, Mexico for a week with most of her family (everyone except Leah Kathryn - we really missed her!), Haden Hallman, and Jeff Gregory. We did some painting at the place we were staying, built a concrete roof for one of the churches that our friend Florencio has started, and helped with children's ministry at several different churches during the week (and we ate some super fantastic food... 3 meals a day... every day).
This is our good friend, Ricardo. He didn't speak a lick of English when we got there, but he somehow found a way to communicate with us what he needed us to do. By the end of the week he had learned a few English phrases. His favorite phrase to say in English was "One Coke please!", which became an on-running joke for us during the week. We came to the conclusion that Coca-Cola wouldn't be going out of business any time soon. By the time we finished working there, we had all become good friends with Ricardo... he and I even swapped hats. I couldn't understand most of what he said, but I knew for a fact that Ricardo loved Jesus, and he loved sharing that love with others.
In addition to being able to serve the communities in Mexico, we were able to spend some (a lot) quality time with some really, really incredible people. This has always been my favorite and least favorite part of trips like these... we spend time together all week - developing some really great relationships and getting to know each other on a deeper level - and then when it's done we have to come back home and resume life as normal, and often times those relationships weaken and even dissolve just as quickly as they are built. It is my goal to not allow that to happen this time around.
What an awesome, spirit filled, God led week. I have mentioned in a couple previous blog posts that the love of Jesus transcends national borders, bloodlines, races, and gender. This trip was absolutely proof of that for me.
During the evening of our first day in Mexico, we were able to go to a local church that our friend Florencio Guzman pastors. Specifically, we went to spend time with the children there at the church. When we arrived, I didn't know what to expect - and to be honest, I felt pretty uncomfortable. However, those uncomfortable feelings very quickly vanished as I heard the 30 or 40 kids shouting praises at the top of their lungs. I had no idea what they were saying, but I could hear the excitement in their voice, and I could tell that they loved Jesus and that they knew Jesus loved them too, and they desired to worship him in any way they knew how.
Really, this was the theme throughout the week. We visited several churches during the evenings, and every single church was full of kids with huge smiles on their faces. They were laughing and smiling, and absolutely thrilled that we had come to visit them and sing their songs with them. That was really cool, but here's the thing... They had nothing.
We are talking about families of 6 or 8 people living in a house made out of used broken wooden pallets, old sheet tin, or even vinyl doors. Most of these kids literally didn't have anything but the clothes on their back and their families... and yet, I seriously didn't see a single kid (except for the babies or young toddlers who weren't sure what to think about me as I picked them up and held them lol) who didn't look as if they were absolutely loving life.
How is that possible? How can it be that these people don't have any material possessions, make less money in one week than most Americans make in one hour, and struggle to find enough food to eat every day... and yet are absolutely overflowing with joy? I didn't see any big brand new SUVs, the latest game systems, fancy clothes, or new toys... but time and time again - at every church we visited, these were the looks on the faces we saw:
Could it be that we have finally exposed the absolute lie of the American Dream? Make more money, buy more stuff, and you'll be "more happy"?
What are we doing? Why aren't we breaking away from these lies that are fed to us from the time we're old enough to go to school? We are taught to live our lives to be able to afford a mortgage payment that will keep us in debt for at least 30 years... one or more loans for nice cars, boats, etc... because those are the things that make us happy. What would happen if WE, the body of Christ finally acknowledged these ideas for exactly what they are - lies, and decided to start living sacrificially - showing the love of Jesus to those around us through our actions, words, and the way we live? How powerful would that be?
As we were finishing up the week in Mexico, we were able to attend a worship service at Florencio and Maria's home church. In ways, the service was very similar to our services here, but it was also very, very different. Florencio's son, Johnny, was the worship leader - and we sang several contemporary worship songs that we were familiar with - all in Spanish, of course. As we began the worship set, I couldn't help but notice that there was something different about the way they worship when compared to the way we worship here. As I looked around, I didn't see a single person not singing... as a matter of fact, there were a couple of people behind me who probably would have made the congregation sound a little better by not singing at all... or at least not as loudly. There was a really old man two rows in front of us who didn't look as if he would be able to walk across the room if asked, but he was up and moving his feet and "dancing" and clapping with everything he had in him.
And that was great... because their hearts were into it. They weren't singing to sound good. They didn't care what anyone around them thought. They were not being distracted by anyone around them - not even the strange white people who would occasionally ask Meredith "What does that say in English?" in the middle of the song. It was them and God. They were longing for God's presence and for the Holy Spirit to move in that place. There was almost a sense of desperation in their eyes and voices. Desperation. What kind of thoughts run through your head when you hear or speak that word? Haden came up with a pretty good analogy as we were sitting around the dinner table one night talking about something completely random...
Have you ever been under water, and just didn't feel like you were going to be able to make it back to the top in time to breathe again? And you're just thinking to yourself "Man, if I can just get back to the top", and you're reaching and swimming as hard as you can, because you know when you finally get that breath of air, everything is going to be okay...
They were desperate to feel the love of God. They were desperate to experience the movement of the Holy Spirit, and they were longing for more of God's presence. I couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Jealous that the church services here aren't filled with desperate people longing for God's presence. Jealous that I couldn't come back and worship with them every Sunday. Jealous because that church service - with all 50 or so people - was more spirit filled than most of the church services that I've ever been a part of. Why? Because it was real to them. It was absolutely real, and they desperately needed Jesus.
When did we lose our desperation?
I was having a conversation tonight with one of my close friends... He pointed out that we, as Americans don't really trust Jesus, nor do we need to trust Jesus. I was a little confused, and then he went on to explain: We have everything we need. We know where our next meal is going to come from. We know that when we wake up in the morning the most difficult task that we will face will not be to find clothes to wear, but to decide which clothes to wear. We don't lack anything... therefore we don't have to trust Jesus for anything. In our minds, we've worked hard to earn our money, our stuff, and our jobs. Who needs a savior when we can be our own saviors?
That's precisely why we have lost our desperation.
Can we gain that sense of desperation back? Can we come to the realization that we desperately need Jesus - even though we live in a society that doesn't know anything about desperation?
I pray that we can.
I'm ready to go. I'm ready to go and serve in the jungles of Africa, the slums of Mexico, or inner city Chicago. I'm also ready to go serve in Tuscaloosa, and in areas of need in our neighborhoods. I'm ready to go to the streets of Calcutta, or to teach in a classroom here in Alabama. I don't know what our next step is, or where God will lead us from here. What I do know is that I long to be desperate for Jesus and to break the chains of the lies of the American Dream, and to free myself from being a slave to consumerism and greed.
Will you join me?
