One Step at a Time

So, we’ve been back now for just over 3 months.  For those of you who don’t know, Candace and I spent from Aug. – Dec. in Sierra Leone (check out our journey at www.hewitts.wordpress.com).  Right around 1 year ago, Candace and I applied to go to Freetown with Word Made Flesh.  When I look at the past year, all the crazy ups and downs, from CO to TN to Sierra Leone then back, it all happened so fast that part of me starts to question whether any of it was really real.

One year ago I was an engineer and Candace was a special education assistant and life was ‘good,’ at least on the outside.  Good money, comfortable life, nice apartment, good church, etc.  We were truly on our way towards the ‘American dream’, the road commonly travelled.  But, like so many others, we felt life was empty and purposeless.  We decided to ask God what was out there that we were missing.  He began to open our eyes and we decided to follow him down that road, the road less travelled, which eventually took us to Sierra Leone.

Now, here we are, we’re back, but don’t really feel like we have gone very far.  We haven’t found any answers, just more questions.  However, life is brighter, more meaningful; we see the bigger picture.  We see God’s heart for this world.  Right now I am a substitute teacher, baseball coach, math tutor, janitor, and anything else that I can find to help pay the bills.  This week I’ve been getting up at 4:30 A.M. to go clean toilets for a bunch of government offices…..but I’m happy, so much happier than when I was drawing a fat paycheck for sitting at a desk all day as an engineer.  No regrets.  I’ve realized that this road may not be pretty or easy, but it’s good.   What is it about this world that makes security and comfort and money SEEM so important?  It has really boggled my mind lately, trying to understand why these things seem as though life is dependent upon them, and prevent us from stepping off the path of control and security. It took us so long to trust and believe that God had something better.

Anyways, something tells me that, even though we’ve taken a few steps down the road less travelled, we’re not too far from where we started.  And that the other road will continue to call out, and look apppealing. However, I have to think back, and remember that it is along this road that I’ve encountered God -  not in the megachurches or the shopping malls or the 3-story houses, but in Kroo Bay, in the streets of Freetown and CO Springs, in the poor and marginalized.  And because of that, there’s no turning back.

On our way…..

Well, it’s almost midnight and we’re heading out around 8:00 in the morning.  Knoxville to Detroit to London to Freetown.  It will take about 30 hours to get there, which I’m definitely not looking forward to.  But honestly, I think I’ll need that 30 hours to both decompress and process these last few weeks here at home in Tennessee as well as prepare myself for the next 4 months in Freetown.  Anyways, we’re not sure how reliable the internet will be in Freetown or how often we’ll be able to access it, so this may be my last blog on here for a while.  We’ll definitely be updating our Sierra Leone blog so check it out to get updates on our trip. 

Detox

I posted on mine and Candace’s blog about learning to “be” and how it relates to the transition we’re going through as we prepare to go to Africa.  But honestly, these things are still weighing on me, and I feel like there’s so much more to it. 

As I look at my life, It seems I’m constantly thinking about the next step.  In college, I was always looking ahead to the next semester or summer.  In grad school, it was wondering where we would go when we’re finished with school.  Then as I began working, I was constantly depressed because I just asked myself, “Is this it?”  No longer was there a next step that I could look forward to. 

I do it with my desires as well.  I find myself dreaming about writing, or speaking, or coaching one day.  But in the midst of dreaming about the future, I overlook the opportunities that I have today, where I’m at now. Why do I constantly look to the future? 

It may sound cliche, but I think it’s because I look for my identity and joy in this life rather than in God.  I try to meet the deep longings in my heart for meaning and fulfillment through experiences rather than God.  The problem is, as I’ve experienced, this life never satisfies.  It always leaves me wanting more, so I constantly look ahead to the next step or the next adventure, in hopes that once I get there, then I’ll find true meaning and happiness. 

It’s weird because if someone were to ask me, I feel I would know the answer to the question.  But knowing that you should find your identity in God and actually doing it are two totally different things.  I feel that’s the journey I’m on right now.  I feel God telling me to let go of all these dreams, to let go of the future.  I think He wants me to let go of those things, so that I can learn to be in the moment, and to find my life in each day through Him alone.  Sounds great….. but doing it isn’t quite so easy.  It feels like I’m an addict going through detox, trying to let go of all the things I’ve turned to for life for so long.

The Lifeboat

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my life lately and I keep realizing that in many ways I don’t like the person I am.  I don’t like how defensive, selfish, cold-hearted, up-tight, manipulative, etc. I am.  I’ve been really struggling with how to change these things?  Where do they come from?  I don’t believe that it’s just a matter of will or choice, these things are deeply rooted somewhere. 

This book I have been reading talks about how ever since the Fall, our world has operated with a “lifeboat mentality.”  Because we’re no longer in relationship with God, we all walk around operating as though we’re fighting for a spot in a lifeboat that doesn’t have enough room for everyone.  It’s pretty evident when you look at our world.  We are constantly trying to prove to a jury of our peers (most of whom we don’t know) that we’re good-looking enough, smart enough, cool enough, etc.  for a spot in the lifeboat.  And it’s their opinion that is the final say.  So when something happens that threatens our position in the lifeboat, it triggers something within us.  Why in the world do we get so mad when someone cuts us off?  Something deep down feels we’re not respected or important, and we feel our identity being threatened.  For me this was a huge realization because I know I definitely operate like this, and I started to see it as the core behind many of these characteristics of myself that I don’t like.  The problem is that the lifeboat mentality binds us down and keeps us from living and loving freely.  It keeps us from being our true selves.  What’s encouraging is to see how Christ lived in this world; he knew there was no lifeboat.  He knew that His identity was in His relationship with the Father.  One of my favorite paragraphs in the book says this:

“Imagine how much a man’s life would be changed if he trusted that he was loved by God?  He could interact with the poor and not show partiality, he could love his wife easily and not expect her to redeem him, he would slow to anger because redemption was no longer at stake, he could be wise and giving with his money because money no longer represented points, he could give up on formulaic religion, knowing that checking stuff off a spiritual to-do list was a worthless pursuit, he would have confidence and the ability to laugh at himself, and he could love people without expecting anything in return.  It would be quite beautiful, really.”

To me, that sounds like freedom.  That’s what I long for, freedom from trying to prove myself, freedom to love, freedom to live as God intended.

God Grew Tired of Us

Last week, I watched the documentary “God Grew Tired of Us” .  The film follows the stories of three ‘Lost Boys’ of Sudan’.  The Lost Boys were a group of approximately 27,000 boys who were displaced or orphaned when civil war broke out in 1983 in Sudan.  The boys joined together and walked for nearly two months across Sudan to Ethiopia, but were then forced to leave three years later.  At that time they headed towards Kenya in a year long trek with only about 10,000 making it to the Kakuma Refugee camp in Kenya.  The documentary follows the journey for three of the Lost Boys as they get relocated to America in 2001.  It’s funny watching these young men as they are introduced to the ”normalcies” of American culture, as someone shows them how to turn on a light, use a clock, a key, a light, a refrigerator, etc.  It’s difficult to even begin to imagine the culture shock they encounter. 

As the boys start to experience life in America, many of the boys are required to work 2-3 jobs to survive and send money back to Africa.  The guys soon start to raise questions about American culture that I thought were both interesting and convicting.  As they share about life in Africa, they note how important relationships and community were to them in the refugee camp, and how that doesn’t exist in America.  One guy also tells about a woman he saw sitting along the street who was upset.  He couldn’t understand why everyone would just walk past her.  He noted how in Kakuma (refugee camp) that would never happen.  If someone was hurting you tried to help, mainly because everyone understood the hard times each other was facing.  When Christmas came around, they begin asking about the materialism and the idea of Santa Claus, wondering if Santa was in the Bible.   They share that in Kakuma, they spend Christmas dancing and singing and celebrating the birth of Christ.  They have no presents or christmas trees, just celebration of Christ. 

It’s all funny and sad to me because we in America think we have it all figured out.  We hear stories of poverty and feel sorry for people, sorry that they don’t have all this ’stuff’ that would make them ‘happy’.  The thing I’m realizing is that we’re the ones that are missing out.  We’re the ones running the rat race, trying to keep up, and missing out on true life in the process. These guys have spent the majority of their lives in refugee camps without enough food, water, or medical care, but they are still happier than many Americans.  These Lost Boys realize that life in the midst of the poverty, which is a life they live TOGETHER, is more fulfilling and worthwhile than the life of abundance we live in here in America.   It makes me wonder where I’m trying to find life.  Where is my comfort, my security, my joy?  Am I pursuing things in this life that will bring true life, or things that will just make me comfortable?  I hate to see how I’ve believed the lies of America for so much of my life. 

Tragedy

                                                                                                                                                               Myanmar: 

Red Cross fears death toll may be as high as 128,000

2.5 million in need of food, water, shelter and medical care.

China :

Current death toll at 22,000

At least 14,000 still buried

At least 4.8 million homeless

 

When tragedies like these happen, it seems to bring up all kinds of questions.  I want to focus on just one of those questions right now -  Why in the hell don’t we care?  These statistics are so staggering that it’s impossible to really get our mind around it.  Maybe that’s why we don’t even try.  That’s just what they are to us – statistics.  Somehow we’ve numbed ourselves or learned to turn a blind eye to the reality of the pain and suffering that people around the world are enduring. 

I’ve started doing some observations whenever disasters or tragedy happens.  I’ve started observing the media and their coverage of these things.  It’s really amazing.  Whenever an American tragedy occurs, the coverage dominates every headline and news program for weeks, even though the death tolls from these events (9/11 = 2752; Katrina = 4081; Iraq = 4078) pale in comparison to the staggering numbers from these other disasters.  However, when an event that is even more catastrophic occurs somewhere else, after a day or two, it usually makes the headlines right between the latest American Idol cut and the top ten ways to secure a better career.  My guess is it’s because these American events hit so close to home.  These events make Americans realize that our country is not invincible or untouchable, and that we’re not above it all.  It shakes up our nice, comfortable little lives and makes us realize for a moment that we’re not as secure as we thought.

I don’t even know where I’m going with all this.  I just know this freakin’ country makes me sick.  We’re so arrogant and caught up in our own little worlds, that we don’t even want to think about the pain and suffering going on elsewhere, let alone actually give up some of our own luxuries to make a difference.  At least we’ll all be in church Sunday morning, singing to Jesus, thanking him for all the ‘blessings’ he’s given us.   We are a ‘Christian’ country after all, right?  Or that’s what the statistics say, with 78.5% of Americans considering themselves Christians.  I know I’m making a lot of judgemental, blanket statements, and I know that this doesn’t apply to everyone, but overall I’m just sick of our ‘Christian’ culture and the American Jesus we’ve created.  I wonder what the real Jesus would’ve thought about America. 

Locked in a Cage

I was having coffee with a good friend a few weeks ago, someone I really look up to as a mentor in my life.  I was complaining to him about life, work, etc.  He started telling me this story, it was a variation on an old fairy tale.  The story is basically about this boy who finds this wild man locked in a cage and has to find the key to let him out.  The boy goes on this journey to free the wild man, and in the end, the wild man in the cage is actually him.  He said that reminded him of most men in the world, and specifically it reminded him of me.  It sounded so true and I really started to think about all the cages that I feel locked in.   What I’m wrestling with now is that, although I’m starting to see these cages,  the keys are yet to be found.

The fact is that I believe the wild man is there within all men.  The problem is that  in so many of us he’s locked up and wants out.  So he usually either starts rattling the cage (angry men) or tries to anesthetize himself (passive men, checked out).  I realize that I definitely don’t want to live like that, but I see it within me – whenever I freak out at the guy that cut me off or want to drive my head through a wall at work.  There’s something within me that’s trapped.

For me the biggest part of the story is that the little boy is the one that has to go on the journey to find the key to unlock the cage.  That’s critical, that seems to hit so close to home for me.  There’s something within me that feels like a scared little boy who has been thrown out in the midst of a battle, alone.  So how does the boy find the key?  And where does he find it?  Those are the tough questions that, unfortunately, I don’t have the answers to right now. 

Muddy Water

Once again, I’ve gotten so caught up in doin’ all the stuff that needs gettin’ done, that I’ve neglected the things most important to me.  It’s been about a month since I’ve posted on here, and I can’t even remember where the month went.  The biggest change is that Candace and I have officially signed on to go to Sierra Leone in August for 4 months.  With that has come a whirlwind of both logistical issues to deal with, but also a ton of emotional and spiritual issues. 

I’m starting to see my heart as this big bucket of muddy water.  As life gets stagnant, I get into this routine, monotony takes over, and all the crap just settles out to the bottom.  It’s still there, but I just don’t worry about it because it’s not getting stirred up, so I don’t have to really face it.  Whenever life gets sort of crazy though, whether it be a big decision to make or a crisis that comes from nowhere, all the crap in the bucket gets stirred up.  It’s in those moments that I see how much crap I really do have deep down that I haven’t dealt with.  This last month, my bucket has gotten all stirred up and now I feel so stressed out and overwhelmed by all the crap that’s come to the surface.  Issues with people, selfishness and pride in my own heart, how little faith I actually have in all this stuff that I say I believe in.  That stuffs pretty scary, and it’s deep.  It’s not easy, but I’m trying to let God in and to let him clean up the mess, because I’ve found that I sure can’t.  I think Tozer said it best:

 ”The man who has struggled to purify himself and has had nothing but repeated failures will experience real relief when he stops tinkering with his soul and looks away to the perfect One. While he looks at Christ the very things he has so long been trying to do will be getting done within him. It will be God working in him to will and to do. “

Koinonia

Koinonia is a Greek term used many times throughout the New Testament to represent the relationship within the early church. The first time it is used is in Acts 2:42-47 when describing the early church in Jerusalem:

“They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer…All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need…They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people.”

It’s amazing that the term, “the fellowship,” was a description of its central character as one of sharing in a common life.  As I try to imagine what ’koinonia’ would look like in our culture today, I never can quite get my mind around it.  Does God really call us as a church to experience this type of fellowship - sharing in our lives, our money, our possessions?  Something within me rises up and says “No, he wouldn’t really call us to that“ or I think “that was just their culture, it doesn’t apply to us today”.  But why?  Why wouldn’t God call us as a church to that?

I try to ask myself, which is more likely:  1) That God would call his church to come together to meet in a building a few times a month to worship and give a lot of superficial hellos and how are ya’s, then leave to go live the rest of life independently, or  2) God would call us to replicate the example of the church He gave in His Word, where we experience fellowship, sharing in life, money, possessions, experiences, etc., and through this fellowship the kingdom is spread.

I’m coming to the conclusion that we have chosen the way we want the church to interact because it fits into our lifestyle and culture.  The second option, let’s be honest…. it requires a lot.  It requires a total surrender of the life that we believe we are entitled to or deserve.  Something has taught us that we deserve something in this life.  We’ve somehow forgetten that the one and only thing we deserve is death, eternally……end of story.   We’ve stopped listening to God and started listening to our culture.  We’ve began looking at the Word of God through our American glasses.  Anyways, I truly believe that the world will not see change until the church takes off its glasses and opens its eyes to the fact that God has called us to koinonia.  We forget the fact that by pursuing our own selfish desires, we’re the ones ultimately missing out –  we’re missing out on experiencing the life of fellowship that God has designed us for. 

When it rains…..

Have you ever wondered why life works out the way it does?  You know the saying, “When it rains, it pours”.  In so many ways it seems so true.  Right now I feel like its pouring. 

So, Candace and I started out this year really trying to save some money.  We budget everything, rarely eat out (if we do it’s usually a pizza or a Chipotle burrito), don’t go shopping, keep travelling at a minimum, etc.  But, like most things, just when things appear to be going good, it all seems to blow up in our face.  First, it was Candace’s wisdom teeth.  Luckily she’s working in the school system so she had insurance, but we still shelled out like $400.  Back to ground zero. 

Then, it’s our car.  So I notice my tire’s a little flat and I look and find a nail.  No big deal, right….that’s like $10 to patch.  We take it to the mechanic and they say ‘Oh, you can’t patch it, it’s too close to the edge, you have to replace the tire.’  Second and third opinion say the same thing.  Not only that, but since your tires are worn down and its 4WD, you have to replace all 4 tires.  Awesome…. a $600 nail.  

 Not only that but while I’m getting the oil changed, the day before the tire incident, the mechanic gives me this long list of the things that the car needs done and begins to tell me all the horrific consequences if I neglect all of these ‘urgent’ items.  If I did everything they listed it would be another $600.  What’s worse is that the whole time he’s talking to me, I have this feeling in my gut that is just saying ‘You’re so getting screwed right now’.  However, I know absolutely nothing about cars, so I’m sitting there listening intently, shaking my head in agreement, trying not to look like an idiot, pretending as if I know what the hell he’s talking about.  It’s a terrible feeling when there’s no way to know if the guy is screwing you or telling the truth. 

 Anyways, maybe that’s just the way life is, and all we can do is learn to weather the storm.  I don’t know.  I just hate walking through life feeling unequipped for the storm.  Sometimes I feel like a little boy who’s carrying an umbrella right into a hurricane.