[Yes, you get #3 this week. No more confidentiality required. :)]
2/17/06
Matthew 19:27-29 (NIV): "Peter answered him, 'We have left everything to follow you! What then will there be for us?' Jesus said to them, 'I tell you the truth, at the renewal of all things, when the Son of Man sits on his glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life...'"
My life has changed drastically over the last 5 1/2 years. Without writing out a 50 page bio, I'll tell you this: I have always sought God, considered myself a Christian, and been concerned with obedience. However, in the summer of 2000 I did something dangerous. With Jeremiah 29:13 heavy on my heart (go ahead--look it up), I tearfully confessed to my God during one restless night that I hadn't been seeking him with
ALL of my heart. I admitted that I didn't even really know how to, but I asked for His help, and resolved to no longer let my life be ruled by fear. It's been a wild ride since.
I will tell you this: during my first 18 years of life, I moved a total of once and considered it a torturous experience. I attended the same church I was born into and felt extremely awkward even visiting another. My dream was to get married young, own my own home, and live out my days in my hometown, working at the same bakery that became my first official employer before my 15th birthday.
Today I'm 26 years old [that day wasn't my birthday, I was just noting]. I have lived in a total of 12 different 'homes'. I have been a member (if not technically, at least by my commitment level) of 6 different churches and visited many more. I am single, a perpetual renter, and can cite a list of employers almost as long as my arm.
I praise God that his moving in my life is so obvious by these changes. I can unflinchingly say that I wouldn't change a thing from the paths I've taken in these recent years.
And yet, commitment is not without its cost. By definition, I feel I have become a nomad. What I don't know is if this is for a season or if it will be a life calling. This last week at ABS [Area Bible Study--the high school youth group I help to lead], one of the freshman girls questioned me about moving around so much. Basically she asked me if I enjoyed it, surmising before the end of her own question that the answer obviously had to be Yes.
But I couldn't just grin and nod my head to that. It's complicated, see. I enjoy the fact that I get to experience different facets of being God's coworker; I get to be immersed in different communities of believers and learn from each; I get to meet a plethora of people who I feel blessed to know; and I get the rush of feeling like I'm moving with the current of the Spirit instead of stagnating in a puddle.
What's not so cool is that by not putting down roots anywhere, deep-close friendships are a real challenge to maintain. By not being established in any one place I also tend to feel like an outsider more often than not, "a transient passing through" as one friend put it. More often than not, people are not very inclined to invest in a transient, or even attempt to make such a person feel welcomed. Of those that try, many attempts come across as superficial. And of the few that are genuine, there is always an accompanying level of pain in knowing the experience is destined to be short-lived.
I've been planning to return to Los Angeles in the summer of this year since about this time last winter. I've been thankful for the buffer of time God has given me to savor my mid-western relationships for a significant amount of time. Unfortunately, it can also feel bittersweet...
Last weekend I returned to my hometown to visit my friends and family. I've been trying to do this on a regular basis since I returned from a 10 month trip to New Zealand in the spring of 2004. (Before that I lived in LA for almost a year.) There's something about being so far away that made me savor these relationships more.
Friday night I spent time with my relatives...my mom, my aunt, my uncle, and my little cousins. I laughed a lot--I always do. I tried to invest into my cousins' lives--engaging them in dialogue, joking, and attempting to offer pearls of wisdom. In my heart, I counted on one hand how many more opportunities I had for these get-togethers before departure for LA. I know I will miss them all again, and have to watch from afar to see the paths my cousins take toward adulthood.
Saturday night I got together with two friends I've known forever. Lisa is getting married in August...I'm sad that she hasn't asked me to be a bridesmaid, but I understand--I really haven't been around for her. Nick and I have a catalogue of inside jokes. Both know me in a way that I can't explain to new friends. I feel so much less guarded around them. Nick never fails to tell me he doesn't want me to go back to LA. A part of me wants to offer to move back to WI and be his best buddy again. But I can't...I'm in the service of the King. I promise I'll visit at least once a year. Sometimes I wonder if that'll be enough to maintain ties, or if eventually these two will stop returning my calls.
I have yet to tell my fellow co-leaders from ABS or even any of the sophomore girls in my small group about my imminent departure. "Biding my time," I tell myself...but I'm not quite sure where the line is between wisdom and avoidance.
In the spectrum of all friends I have had thus far in life, two stand out as the people I've been closest to. Through the twists and turns of life, our friendships have survived, but now seem to be mere apparitions of what once was. I feel (*though I realize this could just be my perception and not ultimate truth) like both traded me in for safer friends--notably boyfriends--and I can't say that doesn't sting. So what do these experiences do for my view of the deepest levels of friendship? Muck up my vision, that's for sure.
But nevermind my down-on-my-luck tales of relational loss--there's a flipside to this. Going back to the Matthew passage, I identify with Peter. It feels* like I have given up everything to follow Jesus. Does he [J] fail to recognize that? Hardly! The problem is, I need to correct my myopia by looking through the lenses of faith.
Eternal life has been promised to me, and I hold to it! If that was the extent of my reward, that would be more than enough. Heck, even if it wasn't, the LORD is worthy of sacrifices more extreme that even any I have made! But God is so loving, so merciful, so full of grace that he doesn't just take what I offer with a "You better!" but instead receives it lovingly and offers me compensation in return.
What do I mean?
I have sacrificed being close with/to my natural family, but the LORD has blessed me with surrogate relatives from His family in return...blessed sisters and brothers, aunts and uncles, and even an occasional parental figure. Though I desire to explain this further, I am at a loss. I chalk it up to things that need to be spiritually discerned. How can I call someone I've only known a short while, someone from even a different language or culture, as close--or closer--than even my own blood? Because there is an undeniable bond...my heart leaps in joy as they are blessed, is torn with sorrow as they struggle through hardship, warms with treasured memories, cheers with every accomplishment, and prays when absence makes it heavy. It's mental, I know--but in a good way. And when we shake off this mortal coil, I look forward to worshipping at Jesus' throne, arm in arm with these dear ones who have become my "peeps".
What's more, my cup overflows with friends...so much so that I don't have time for them all. I might lament my handicap in being able to spend as much time with each as I'd like, or the inability to share every aspect of my life and heart, but God always provides. A friend I meet with this week inspires me in one way, I get an email from another that encourages me, a conversation with another challenges me, time with another who 'gets' me offers comfort, time with another who is quite opposite of me makes me appreciate diversity, one prays for me, one asks for prayer, one gives me a ride to a restaurant, and one I fly across the country to treat to lunch.
No matter what context I have found myself in, not once could I say, "LORD, why won't you give me a friend?" The challenge instead seems to be how willing
I am to give of myself.
Furthermore, yes, I am single and have no children. Sometimes I feel shame over this, sometimes frustration, sometimes pain and loss, and sometimes I'm thankful. Here's something mindblowing though...I met with a friend about a month ago for coffee and mentioned my involvement with youth ministry. He smiled and said I had the look of a mother...[the rest of this sentence is edited for sappiness!] What a blessing.
The rest of the verse mentions houses and fields. I will testify that despite my endless transitions of homes and employers over the last 5 1/2 years, I've never been thrown to the wolves in either field. In fact, the more I've sought God's direction and provision for each, the more I feel I've been blessed. I don't know where I'm going to live (or with who) when I return to LA, but I do know that I can trust God to provide something with blessings that will continue to refresh me even after my next move...
Counting the cost is a paramount step in any decision. Nobody said sacrifice was easy, and little is ever accomplished (internally or externally) without it. But we serve a God who knows we are dust, and a high priest who understands our weaknesses. Jesus offers us a yoke that is easy and a burden that is light (Matthew 11:30), but the yoke and the burden exist all the same. I will not be the fool who runs from them.
