Well. Eleven weeks and many Mexican dinners later, we are still going strong here in Juarez.
We have two weeks left of classes before leaving for our six-week outreach to Southeast Asia. We are very excited about visiting a different country! As far as the type of work we will be doing, it will range from manual labor (still not sure on specifics) to music and drama performances, to simply getting to know people and making friends.
Today our visiting teacher showed us some slides of pictures from around the world and talked to us about some of the various problems and needs in different countries. It was the kind of stuff that can really break your heart. After the presentation, I felt so ignorant (in a humbling and disappointed sort of way) as I realized that there is so much that I should but don't know about the world. Yeah, National Geographic and other sources cover some of these things, but the magnitude of hurt that many face not only physically, but also mentally and emotionally, just blows me away. I really had no idea, and I say that with a subdued attitude. Today, I was humbled.
Sometimes I think about my challenges to others to think outside the box, and then I am hit with the realization that I myself have not allowed my mind to get outside of its box, but rather have been hindered by pride and fixed presumptions that aren't easily bent. My passion is for truth, and I find that I stop truth from flowing because I think that I already have things figured out. I want to be transformed by truth, living and walking in it; why, then, do I so resist transformation when truth becomes clear? Why do I cling to my old boxes?
Pretty much, it's because I don't want to be humbled. I don't want to admit that I'm wrong and need to change the way I think.
God is light, and there is no darkness in him. Sometimes he tries to teach me things, but I prefer not to listen. Sometimes he wants to increase the foundation under my feet, but I like the little rock that I'm used to standing on. I don't want to see deeper things because it means that my world could get shaken up.
But I am realizing that my desire for light must be stronger than my fear of being shaken, and my pursuit for truth more passionate than my resistance to admitting I'm wrong. It can't work any other way.
Psalm 199:105 says, "Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path." And in Spanish it says, "Lámpara es a mis pies tu palabra, y lumbrera a mi camino." (Which means the exact same thing. Just thought you might like to see it). When I picture this, my first initial idea is of me, carrying one of those little old-fashioned candle holders, with a candle in it to light my way down a dark path. But you know what? If this is my image of God, then I think very little of him. What kind of image would be closer to the truth? How about a light that blinds me, incapacitates me, frightens me, and humbles me in such a profound way that my only response can be to fall on my knees in honor and surrender my mind to the truth of who he is? I think that here, in such a place, real transformation can occur.
Above: - me and Joy, a visitor from South Korea
- us and some friends walking down the street
- kids from Rancho Los Amigos hanging out in front of the chapel after school
1 comment:
Lovely, thanks for writing this Cynthia.
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