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. 

Compassion

I wrote about this a while back, but I feel like God keeps opening my eyes wider and wider to the concept of compassion.  I’ve been reading this book and it keeps shaking my world.  So I found out the meaning of the word “compassion” is actually “to suffer”.  Most of us would consider ourselves naturally ‘compassionate’.  We don’t like to see people in pain or hungry or alone.  Truthfully though, I think what we mean is that certain situat ions bring about compassionate feelings within us.  Does having compassionate feelings make us truly compassionate people?  The world we live in preaches to us that life is about reaching forward, making progress, whether financially, relationally, spiritually.  Life is about striving forward.  Then, out of our ‘compassionate feelings’, we reach down from our lofty positions that we’ve strived so hard to achieve and give out of our excess to those below us.  Most of us would think of this as being compassionate.  But is it? 

 Our attitude is  ’I'm up here, you’re down there, and since I’m compassionate I’m going to reach down and help you out and hopefuly you can begin to move upwards now.’  But when I look at Christ’s life, I just don’t see that being the way He lived.  He lowered himself, humbled himself.  He didn’t reach down from on high; he lowered himself and joined us in our filth.   I don’t know what this means or looks like practically in my life, but I do know that nothing I do is going to make a true difference until I imitate Christ, humble myself, and get off my lofty pedestal, both in my heart and in my world. 

The Widow

So the other day I heard about this movement, ministry, or whatever you want to call it. As I heard about it, I immediately thought “what an incredible idea, I want to be a part of that”.  I got so excited about being a part of this movement, and honestly I still am, and I plan on being a part of it in the upcoming months, but that’s not my focus right now.  My question is, what is it that rises in me so quickly when I hear about something like this?  I immediately want to jump on board.  Why?  As I think about it, I realize that for one, it’s a great cause.  Obviously, that’s really important, there are all kinds of things that I hear about and I never think twice  because they don’t seem as important or critical or relevant as other things going in my life.  But I don’t think that’s all of it, because even though it’s a great cause and it can help change people’s lives, there’s part of me that is excited about it for myself.  I think within all of us there’s a deep desire to truly make a difference and to be a part of something bigger than ourselves.  What rises up within me isn’t just love for people, but it’s a desire to matter.  It’s a desire to make a difference in a world where I know things aren’t as they should be.  I really believe that once we start living outside of our own worlds and enter into the worlds of others, then we truly begin to live.

So, as I though about this desire I have to “matter”, I realized that if I’m brutally honest with myself, this desire within me is often a greater driving force than my love for people.  I think it truly makes me feel better about myself to do something for someone in need.  In a sense I can sleep a little better at night knowing that I have helped someone else, that I sacrificied, that I did my part.  So I go and sacrifice and give out of my “heart/love for people”, but what’s crazy is that I’ve noticed that I only do it when it’s convenient for me.  For example, I’m pretty sure that I wouldn’t be giving of myself and what I have if I didn’t have any food to put on the table at night.  But it makes me wonder, is that what it’s really about?  Is this the way God has created us to engage and interact in this world?  The bigger question, is this what Christ has called me to?  I remembered this passage and had to ask myself, when I really look at my life, am I reflective of the widow in the temple who gave very little, but in essence gave everything or am I one of the rich folks who gave out of the overflow of his wealth ? (Mark 12:41-44)  Honestly, I have to say that I’m the man who gave because he should and wanted the peace of mind that comes with “sacrificing” for someone else.  Do I love people?  Sure.  Do I really care about people? I truly believe so.   But do I love and care for people MORE than I love and care about myself and my security?  No.  And I wonder why the world is the way it is, and why the church is the way it is.  Will things ever truly change until we get out of our own worlds and enter into the world of those around us?  Until we sacrfice and give out of our poverty and not out of the overflow of our wealth.

I know this won’t change overnight, and I know it’s an uphill battle within myself to truly shift the focus of my life, but I have the choice to either wait around to let someone else act first , or I can stand up and take the first step in that direction myself.  The prayer of my heart is that one day I will reach a point where I’ve surrendered my life to the point that I’m giving out of my poverty, just like the widow.