And seeing the multitudes. . .

I concentrated hard out the dirty window of the small, battered, very missionary looking truck as we bumped along terrible, pot-holed roads, trying desperately to avoid the motion sickness that often plagues me. Going the 60 or so miles from the capital city to our final destination would take 3 hours or so, and we had been warned there were no facilities along the way. These days, 10 years later, that information would not have affected me, but at the time, I diligently suppressed the constant desire to grab my water bottle. There was no way I was going to be the one asking our male driver to stop on the side of the curvy mountain roads. Night was falling as we pulled up at a gate, not the cute white picket fence kind, but the tall, imposing dead-bolted kind. A small, shriveled, old woman sat there, her face hidden by her headwrap as she rested her head on her knees. She had evidently been waiting for us, and pushed herself up off the ground as the driver of the truck rolled down his window. I didn't understand the words, but I clearly got the gist of the conversation as she asked him for help, and he turned her away, to wait until the next morning.

My idealistic, naive, self-righteous 20 year old self was appalled. Here he was, a real live missionary, and he was not "moved by compassion." He was not moved at all, except into his dirt courtyard where he shut the gate behind us. I was in Haiti, on a trip that wasn't really a mission trip, but where I learned more about missions in 2 weeks than I had in my previous 20 years. We were staying with an older couple who had been in Haiti for a few years. She was a nurse, and treated many people at an informal clinic on their compound, and also through a mobile version, in their truck. He worked in agricultural ministry. Both these precious people were constantly, faithfully meeting the needs, both spiritual and physical, of the incredibly poor people in their area.

Fast forward a few years, to Senegal, a place where I am surrounded by people everywhere I go. (Unless I am behind a gate like the one mentioned above: at my house, a fellow missionary's house, or a mission compound.) People with needs. It was hard enough at the time. Now, I am bombarded with the "needs" of my little family constantly, and even that wears me out! At the end of the day (or to be honest, even by lunchtime!) I am so behind with meeting our needs that I am often not moved to compassion to help meet the needs of those around me, whether that means a hurting neighbor or the people I see in the Samaritan's Purse newsletter. What can we do about this? How do we become more like Jesus?

 I want to be like Jesus. But my selfishness is painfully apparent. He did not value "me time." He did not arrange his schedule to jealously guard his own space, time, or resources. He gave EVERYTHING he had, an instructed his disciples to do the same, when we sent them out. Not even to bother with an extra cloak or a money bag. How, then, am I so consumed with my own little world that I fail to notice my single-mother-of-4-boys neighbor two doors down has been out of work for a month and so one of my kids' best little friend has actually been going hungry?

Is it perhaps because when the thought crosses my mind, I should pop over and see how Maria's doing, there is always something more pressing that needs to be done? I have to start supper. I have to do laundry. Hannah and I have to finish school. I have to go running. I have to work on the newsletter or write thank you notes. (I have to update the blog ;-) I have to check in with our extended family far away, who's going through hard times. We all have endless to do lists in our heads, and, at least for females,  that list runs non-stop. If you slow down for a second, I feel like I'm so far behind I'll never catch up. It starts the second you wake up and goes till you fall asleep, and sometimes runs in your sleep as well. But the problem is, it is all legitimate things. I wouldn't say we spend alot of time or money pursuing much that is temporal and only benefits ourselves.

So what is the answer? I sincerely want to have a heart and a life that reflects that of our Lord. One that is constantly searching out and ready to actually do the good works I was created to do (Eph 2:10). But I don't often do that. Either because I'm completely wasted by the end of the day with my own family, or because sometimes I just would rather choose to go the coffeeshop for an hour break on that Saturday afternoon Patrick is home with the kids, instead of sitting in someone's incense filled living room listening to blaring music videos in a foreign language trying to politely eat some food I really don't like and try to make small talk all the while wondering how to introduce the Gospel. So how do I go from sincerely needing that break in the evening or on the weekend, to being completely willing to be spent and used up for the sake of the Gospel? 

And don't say "it's just your season in life right now." Little kids, homeschooling, trying to get overseas, all those things. I really don't see anywhere in the Bible where it says you are exempt from this because you have little kids, because you work full time, because your spouse is sick. We all have things. Things that are real, legitimate responsibilities. Good things, like taking care of a husband and children. But even in those things, we are still the lights of the world, that are to do those good works so people will see them and glorify our God in heaven. (Matthew 5:16) It says people will see our good works. Not our yard signs, our Jesus t-shirts, not our 4 spiritual law tracts. I want to do more of those good works. Not because I have to earn my salvation, but because it's what Jesus did. It's who Jesus was. And calling myself a Christian means being like Jesus.