In his book on Christian discipline, Richard Foster writes, “In contemporary society our Adversary majors in three things: noise, hurry, and crowds. If he can keep us engaged in ‘muchness’ and ‘manyness,’ he will rest satisfied.” 1 Lately, my soul has felt a little ragged around the edges and this quote addresses the reasons for that. My life has been full this year — bloated even. But, in my quiet moments, I had asked myself how I could complain when my plate was so full of good, worthy tasks and excellent, valuable stuff? I couldn’t. Yet, I knew that fatigue had set in and that cynicism was daily knocking at my door. I had found it increasingly difficult to hear from God. In part, I had become fatigued with some of the current frailties of American evangelicalism: the apathy in churches where a few people volunteer for all the jobs and the rest of the congregation asks for more programs; the persistent, easy focus on sins most of us don’t struggle with — strongly condemning gay folks, for instance, when most of our close friends never deal with those longings but failing to call out gossip or gluttony because everybody’s doing it and it would require real bravery. My mind and heart had persistently vibrated with the question, “Lord, I know you are real but why doesn’t faith in you change people more? Why isn’t it changing me more?”
It was in this state that I left on a mission trip to Belize last week as one of many parent chaperones to approximately forty 7th and 8th graders from my daughter’s school. My hope was that God would show me how big He is in comparison to my tiny peephole view of Him and that I would hear from Him. In the end, He did that and more. I learned that sometimes we don’t hear from God because we keep asking the wrong question over and over. Often it is one that he’s already answered. In my case, I kept asking the question, “Lord, through all my busyness, what are you going to make of me? What more can I be?”
In Belize, I learned to ask a different question, “Friend, what can I help you with? What more could you become?” When I started asking this question, His still, small voice became loud again. As I heard his voice, faith started changing me more.
I learned to ask a different question because I was taught by example. As the old Christian hymn says, “They will know we are Christians by our love, by our love, yes they’ll know we are Christians by our love.” Sometimes, when I sang this in church as a child, I wondered if it was true. If not, why not? I try hard to be nice. Isn’t that enough?
In a word, no. Being kind isn’t enough. In Belize, I was reminded of what happens when our guiding mission is to love others. I was reminded to ask in every encounter, “What can you become? What kind of love do I need to give to help you get there?”
Being with the Belizean Christians reminded me that people need extravagant love — over the top, I-can’t-believe-you-did-this, why-would-you-do-this kind of love. That’s the love that labels you as God’s own. The people at the church we came to serve showed us time and again what that means. The women in the church got up early and cooked outside all day over an open flame in ninety-five degree heat in order to feed us insanely good meals three times a day. They did it with laughter, generosity and joy. They worked themselves silly to sustain us and then cried with grief when we left. When you are loved like that, nothing seems impossible and God cannot feel far away.
In addition, Callie and another boy on our trip had their birthdays while we were there. A church member found out about it and, after a full day of cooking for us, the church threw her and this boy a surprise party complete with a piñata, two giant homemade cakes, a gift and a genuine, urgent excitement to celebrate. As they sang Happy Birthday, each member of the church in attendance walked up to Callie and hugged her tightly. Can you imagine doing this for someone you’d known for for only four days? Me neither. This is giant, nonsensical love.
This is the kind of love we need and the kind you cannot ignore. This love lifts communities and neighborhoods high. It is the chief way that Christians should get the world’s attention.
At the close of the week I asked myself whether I was over the top with my generosity this year. The answer was no. Belize reminded me that to be forgiven by God is also to heed the call to love beyond reason.
Love, however, is only effective if it is received. In Belize I was also reminded how to receive God’s good gifts with humility and openness. While I was there, I asked many people if I could pray for their needs. Not one of them turned me down with an, “It’s OK. I got this. I don’t need help.” Mothers brought pictures of their children to our afternoon art camp and asked that I pray for their kids when I got home. A woman with severe cerebral palsy whose daily life consisted of selling lollipops from a hot, dusty, roadside shanty enthusiastically allowed me to pray over her business and health and slayed me with her vibrant smile. A young woman who had lost her parents as a baby asked that I pray for good grades as she hoped to go to medical school by God’s help. She asked for this even though there is no medical school in Belize and there is no earthly reason to believe she’ll ever have the money to travel abroad and earn a medical degree. Not one of these people presented their needs with shame. Rather, their countenance conveyed hope, grace and open hands. I asked myself whether I had fully shared my needs with friends this year? The answer was no. Self-sufficiency was keeping me from communion and blessing.
So often in my muchness and manyness, I was trying very hard to do good, to be kind and to make my life productive. When I stepped away from my own personal hamster wheel for a week, I remembered that there is something even better than trying hard to be good. In the moments where we present our soul to God empty and willing, there is the chance to actually become good in our deepest parts. As we focus less on what we are becoming and more on the One who knows what we were meant to be, we find we are naturally accomplishing our purpose. Fill up and pour out. See His glory. Repeat.
Jennifer Holliman says
Beautiful! I’m so glad you got to experience God’s awesomeness! I’m sad we missed it.