This is what it's all about

There are moments in life when things suddenly crystallize for you, and it suddenly becomes clear why you're doing what you're doing. I had such a moment tonight. It had been a stressful day - only my fourth day in my new job at the Agape Center - and by this evening I was feeling drained. I hadn't gotten everything done that I had hoped to, unexpected problems had come up that I had to deal with, and even though I was doing the Harrisburg tour - one of my favorite things - I was burdened with feelings of inadequacy.

All of the things that I wish I had done better were running through my head as we gathered at the end of the night to reflect on our day. It was obvious that everyone was tired, and I thought "sharing time" would be like pulling teeth. But it wasn't. Student after student, with barely a pause, voiced something meaningful about their day. Many of them shared about something that had impacted them from the Harrisburg tour - seeing true community amidst the brokenness in Allison Hill, having the experience of getting out of the cars and engaging with people, appreciating the really beautiful art that is everywhere, learning about the different parts of the city and the inequalities, discovering that there really are fun things to do here, and on and on.

As they spoke, I was moved - this was hands-down the most meaningful part of my day. Although I didn't say that out-loud, this made all of the stress of preparing for the tour absolutely worth it. This is why I'm here - to introduce students to a place and ideas and a lifestyle that means so much to me. Although I often fall short of my own expectations, this is what it's all about - what students are experiencing and learning. My work is producing fruit, but really it isn't about me at all. The words of Oscar Romero speak to this so eloquently, and I take comfort in them:

"It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.
The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction
of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying
that the kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted,
knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation
in realizing that. This enables us to do something,
and to do it very well. It may be incomplete,
but it is a beginning, a step along the way,
an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference
between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own."

AMEN.

Finding encouragement...

Lately it's been easy for me to get discouraged. The job search often seems to be going nowhere. The State Budget isn't getting much closer to being passed. It continues to be challenging to get to know our neighbors. I find myself too tired sometimes to exert the effort to reach out. My efforts at hospitality and building relationships don't always turn out the way I hope. I don't seem to have enough time to do everything that I want to, and end up feeling pulled in too many directions. Sometimes I feel like I've failed my ideals.

But every time these things bring me down, God finds a way to bring encouragement and lift me up. Spontaneous dinner with Agape Center friends. Play-time with the little boys next door. An elaborate African meal with our wonderful and talkative neighbor from Burkina Faso. Late night chats with my amazing roomies. Beautiful sunsets and gentle breezes. Unexpected naps. Joyous bike rides along the river. These are the things that give me life here. And most days the encouragements outweigh the discouragements - thank you, God.