(This photo is where I am sitting now to use the internet, now my regular hideaway in town. The photo is from last month when my friend N. was visiting from Switzerland. Off to the left, you can see my corner of the veranda, where I usually sit, tucked in the shadow of the grapevines. Even now--August 21, there I am!)
Location: Dinner table in my house, Village of C., Romania (8pm on the 15th of August)
Here I sit again, wondering how I came to be so blessed, and how I came to live in Romania! Both are deep questions with intricate answers. But soon the cows will come home, and I will run off to the neighbors' for some fresh milk, so we will not delve into such profound philosophy now.
Since I write without internet access, I cannot say when this will get posted; nor can I review past posts to see what I have or have not already written. I know that I wrote a note this morning from P.'s house. It was an unhurried morning after that, until I. saw the bus coming that would take us to town, so we sprinted across the street with hardly a goodbye to my friends--Sorry, Gang! Our hurry did catch us that bus, but only so that we could arrive in Targu Mures and wait for an hour and a half for the next one! I fared better from Sighisoara, hitchhiking home and landing a ride easily and quickly for both legs of the trip.
Thus, this afternoon offered me time to visit a church in the village that was having an afternoon service, and to rest after our sleep-deprived weekend. I also did laundry and cleaned up my house, for Friday was chaotic with my time in town in the morning, and then unexpectedly returning to town that night. Now my underwear and socks are hanging out to dry.
Hmm... That last statement was maybe a little more than you needed to know? Well, some of you know that in the same way, God has called me to live my life inside-out. That means that though often I would prefer to keep to myself and quietly enjoy my Savior's presence, He asks me to live in such a way so that you see my failures and victories, my struggles and blessings, my stumbling and stardom. Why? Because though my relationship with Him is far from perfect, it is intimate, and He wants the same kind of relationship with you. So He uses my life to show you that it is possible, that in this day and age, in the twenty-first century, we can still live a life that boasts the living power and grace of Jesus Christ as recorded in the Bible.
Therefore, let me tell you two anecdotes that I would prefer not to mention, and may my Father be glorified.
Last week, a neighbor died. I never knew her, for she was elderly and bedridden, but I had greeted her family members in the street occasionally. Not overly familiar with Romanian customs around death, I nonetheless wanted to seize the opportunity to shine the light of my Jesus into a family that I was told was full of bitterness and sorrow. My family taught me that when something significant happens in life, it is good to take a meal to that family, for they will be busy with guests and details that do not allow them time to think about cooking. Here, I was in a unique situation, because not only did I not know the family, but I am a foreigner, and my house is not yet set up for cooking (I have been living as a bachelor, eating one hot meal a day at my boss' house). Yet I was one of the first people to know about the family's sorrow. Thus, as my work day approached, I ran off to the store and picked up sandwich supplies--bread, lunch meat, cheese, tomatoes, and apples...nothing special. I wrote a note in broken Romanian, though I know the family's first language is German, and I left all of it inside their gate on my way to work.
The reason I tell you this is not to show you how generous I am. In fact, the Lord has been teaching me to be generous over the last several years, giving me outstanding models of great generosity like my brother and my Uncle B. I tell you about this because it all came back. At lunch, I found out that the family said "thanks" but they did not need the food, so they sent it back.
How would you feel? Embarrassed? Hurt? Angry?
I felt sorry, understanding that I probably did not communicate successfully across cultural barriers. But thanks to having made numerous cultural faux-pas in my life, and thanks to the grace that Jesus shows me daily, I was able to respond with grace.
That was Tuesday or Wednesday; now let us jump ahead to Friday. In town, I saw some of the beggar children I know. If you are like me, beggars present you with a dilemma: to give or not to give? The question is even more complicated by the fact that I know many of the beggars in Sighisoara, and that I have worked with many of them as a representative of a ministry, and of Jesus Christ. So how should I respond? If I do give money, I normally give 1 Leu, which is equivalent to about $0.33 or 25 Euro cents. I know that giving money does not really address the larger problem of hunger and unemployment and lack of education and laziness and every other factor wrapped into this social embarrassment. But neither does ignoring the person or the problem, turning a blind eye and hardening your heart. Giving food is one option that I often turn to, but that is only a bandage for one day, and the hunger returns quickly. The Bible says to give to all who ask of you; the Bible also suggests that praying for someone in need without offering material assistance is virtually futile. Especially as a Christian, I believe we must face this challenge.
What do you do?
I was on my bike when I spoke with these children, and as I rode off, the lady working the newsstand called out, telling me that giving money does not help. I politely put my bike in reverse and engaged her in conversation, listening as she gave me an earfull about the mistake I was making with my money, giving it to lazy Gypsy thieves. I pointed out that she interrupted our conversation to sell lottery tickets to another poor soul who would not win the jackpot, and I explained to her that I do not give money all of the time, but that my goal is to build relationships with these people, that eventually we can address the root issues. She had not seen me pray with the sister of the girl to whom I gave 1 Leu, when the young woman was standing in the rain or snow with her sickly infant. (I have learned that even if I do not agree with the method, someone who is braving all sorts of weather to travel to the city to beg every single day is at least half-working; she could be sitting at home whining about the government not offering welfare programs for people without food!) Nor had she seen me up to my ankles in mud in the village these beggars come from, going door to door to talk with the families and being invited in to sit down in the only chair in the house. Nor had she seen me give a sack of food to a grieving Saxon family.
You see, it is not about the money, or the food, or even the giving. It is about the relationship. That is why I backed up to talk to the lady at the newsstand; do you think I wanted to be berated? That is why I offering a bag of groceries to neighbors I hardly know. That is why I stopped to talk with Gypsy children who are treated like scum by other passers-by. That is why Jesus left His place in heaven to be born in an animal feedbox and to die pinned to a gruesome cross--each of these are steps toward relationship. If we cannot be in relationship with other humans, how can we ever be in relationship with God? And as Christians, if we are not in relationship with our neighbors, why would they want to know our God, who is probably just as cold and unfriendly as we are.
I do not like to fail. I do not like have a gift returned with a "No thanks." I do not like to be chided for trying to help. But every morning I give my day to my Lord. I give Him my words, thoughts, and actions, and I give Him my reputation. I tell Him that whatever happens to me does not matter, as long as He gets the glory.
And that is what is happening.
Sometimes I fail. Sometimes I feel like I cannot do anything right. Sometimes I want to give up and run away. Every single word I say or action I do is potentially heard or seen by someone that will one day know the love of my Jesus because His grace was shown through a culturally clumsy man like me.
Without exception, relationship is the most important thing in life. And the God of the universe is the most important person with whom to be in relationship. You can know Him personally, thanks to the efforts of a rejected and spat-upon man named Jesus, a man for whom the glory of God was more important than His own desires or reputation.
Are your relationships worth building eternal life upon?
If not, why not? Every relationship you have, even the slightest brush of shoulders on the crowded sidewalk, either draws Jesus closer or pushes further away. In other words, every relationship we have has eternal significance.
Think about that next time you say, "I love you," or next time you see a weary hand begging in your direction.
And thank you for being in relationship with me. You are important to me, and God blesses me through you.
