So this is more of a 'blog' and less of an update. Know that when I was writing this it was just as much for me as for anyone else. Although the questions and commands in this can be applied to anyone, for me to truly believe them they must first be applied to myself. I have been talking a lot about love lately, and last night I had to stop and really think about what I was talking about. What is love? These are some of my thoughts on it. I don't claim to really know what I am talking about or have all the answers. Take this as you want... right or wrong, these are my thoughts on the subject.
Love. What is it? Love is an emotion that so captivates us as human beings. But what does it mean to truly love someone? Not the gushy tripping over your own words because you are head over heels for someone romantically love, but the love for your neighbor, your “brother”, your “sister”, the love for Christ and the love that Christ has for you. What is this kind of love? How do you define it? How do you practice it??
1 Corinthians 13:4-7 is a verse that kept coming to mind tonight when I was thinking about love. Now I know this verse is (in my opinion) one that is overly quoted in the romantic scenario, I think that it is completely overlooked as applied to any other facet of our life. It reads: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
Take a moment and think about this verse. Meditate on it. What would our lives look like if we took this to heart. If this became the golden rule of our life? What would the world look like if everyone walking around practiced this as the foundation that we should build our lives around. (Well the foundation apart from Christ alone.)
Love is patient. How often do we rush people along because we feel we have something better to do. We don't take time to ask people how they are doing because we have to run and grab a coffee before our next meeting. We honk our horn at the old woman driving slowly rather than patiently driving behind her, enjoying the scenery that God gave us. We rush through our lives not looking around, not caring who we are passing by. Not caring who we are missing, what person we are overlooking in order for us to get our next foot in the next door of life.
Love is kind. This one seems sort of self explanatory. But how often are we kind to those that it benefits us to be kind to. I know I am guilty of it. It's easy to be kind to those who are kind to us. It is easy to be kind to those who can help us. But what about the beggar on the side of the road. What about the child sitting at the restaurant next to you who won't stop screaming. Love is kind. To everyone. All of the time. There are no exceptions. Love does not know boundaries. It does not know the walls that culture has put in place. The kindness of love should transcend all divides that society might happen to put in place, that we might happen to put in place.
Envy. Pride. Boastfulness. Have you ever had a day where you have not felt or participated in one of these things? Because I haven't. To truly love someone else you need to humble yourself. Now there is a word for you- humility. That is another lofty word that is worth defining. The dictionary says humility is a noun- it says it is the modest opinion or estimate of one's own importance. I believe humility is so much more than this. I believe humility is impossible without love. Without compassion. Those things that you envy- are you worthy of them? Are any of us worthy of them? Isn't the only person who is and was ever worthy of any of the splendor and glory of this world Christ Himself? What do we have to be proud of? To boast about? We are constantly falling short of what we are meant to be. We can do nothing on our own. In order to love someone don't you have to first realize this? It doesn't matter if you are black or white, rich or poor, you are still unworthy. Nothing you do will ever measure up to something that is worth the grace that we receive. I think it is only in recognizing this in humility that we can start to love people the way God intended us to love them.
Love ALWAYS protects, ALWAYS trusts, ALWAYS hopes, ALWAYS perseveres. Not sometimes. Not when it is convenient. ALWAYS. Stop for a second and think about that. Think about always protecting those around you. Protecting them at any cost. Putting your life before theirs. How different would our world be if instead of worrying about how we were going to make that next thousand dollars, we worried about how to protect those that live on less than a dollar a day. Love always trusts, hopes, preservers... always. No exceptions. How glorious would our world be if we lived this out. There would be no need (if there is one anyway) for war, for guns, for fighting. If we lived this verse out love would always persevere. It would always come out on top, and the world would be an amazing place because of it. Think of how much less suffering there would be. How much less hurt there would be. Think about all the things we could accomplish together if we lived in a community that loved each other, loved our neighbors, with the love that is described in this verse.
Love is a verb, not a noun. It is an action word. Go live out a life full of love. Go live out a life full of THISkind of love. Live out a life where this kind of love is applied not just to our husbands and wives, not just our mothers and brothers and sisters- our blood, but a life where this love is given out to the broken and destitute, the oppressed and the impoverished. The needy. The poor. The lonely. The homeless. Go out and live a life of love- this kind of love- to EVERYONE around you. Do it. I dare you. See how it will change your life.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
I'm tired of thinking of "creative" titles for these blogs....
Not only am I tired of thinking of creative titles, I am also tired of proofreading... my apologies.
I haven't written in a while, and feel as if I should. I need to make sure that I remember my time here. I need to make sure that this doesn't become routine...and monotonous.
This weekend was great. Sitting downtown in India Town(a busy part of town that we have been spending a lot of time in) just drinking a coke and passing time chatting is an experience I will treasure forever... and one that I need to do more often. When you are surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the busy streets of India town, it feels as if you are a part of it. It feels as if I am truly living in Africa- well I am truly living in Afica, but from day to day I live in the American bubble in Africa. Looking around I feel like this is my home. This is where I live and spend my time. My eyes are opened to the world around me, and I can't help but smile. Watching the sun set over the market filled with vendors and buyers, smelling the fires of Africa, the rubbage in the streets, the smells of Malawi, all whilst drinking a coke out of a glass bottle- it's an experience I wouldn't trade for the world. I want this to become my home. I want the people who spend their days in India town to recognize me. I don't want to be the novelty mzungu. I want to be one of the regulars. I want to blend so I can help... so I can love... and they can love me.
Eating where Malawians eat is another experience that I love. Now I know even the "Malawian" restaurants I got to aren't exactly where most Malawians eat, it's still a little pricey, but it's a good compromise. I am still a little nervous about getting sick at certain restaurants. I get nervous that the chicken on my plate might be the one that I saw earlier that afternoon being carried- dead, skinned, and feathered- by bicycle under the blazing sun with no refrigerator. I want to blend as much as possible... but that doesn't mean that I am comfortable with dysentery. While it's nice to occasionally go out to our favorite Indian restaurant in town, I have found that for the most part I enjoy eating the less expensive traditional fare.
Saturday I went back out with the Chisomo girls. This week we had our first game (or at least the first one since I have been playing with them). I wish I could say it went well...but we got schooled. By little boys. We played the boys under 12 team, and they kicked our butt 3-1. Let me tell you, those boys are good. They have obviously been playing their entire lives. They know how to pass, to keep their head up, to trap with a direction, they have soft touches on the ball, they play as a team.... all things that we are lacking. Hopefully with a little more practice we can learn these things. Maybe we should call the boys back and have them teach us. Talk about being humbled. I am a good 11 years older than their oldest player... getting schooled by little boys on the soccer field is not something I want to participate in daily. Regardless of the win/loss/embarrassment, it was a great time. I feel like I am starting to build connections with these girls. I want to be friends with them, not just teammates. I hope the more I show up the less weird it is that I am from a different background, country, culture. I hope that we can erase those lines and build new ones. Ones that cross the cultural divide and bond us as friends.
I pray that God gives me compassion. Helps me relate to people on their level, not mine. Helps me see them as people, as friends, as equals. I pray that God humbles me and shows me that everything I am doing is for Him... not for me. I pray that God helps me realize that all that I do is to glorify HIS name, not mine. I pray that everything I do I do for God... to show His love and His amazing grace. I pray I do this all for His will, and because He has led me to where I am.
I haven't written in a while, and feel as if I should. I need to make sure that I remember my time here. I need to make sure that this doesn't become routine...and monotonous.
This weekend was great. Sitting downtown in India Town(a busy part of town that we have been spending a lot of time in) just drinking a coke and passing time chatting is an experience I will treasure forever... and one that I need to do more often. When you are surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the busy streets of India town, it feels as if you are a part of it. It feels as if I am truly living in Africa- well I am truly living in Afica, but from day to day I live in the American bubble in Africa. Looking around I feel like this is my home. This is where I live and spend my time. My eyes are opened to the world around me, and I can't help but smile. Watching the sun set over the market filled with vendors and buyers, smelling the fires of Africa, the rubbage in the streets, the smells of Malawi, all whilst drinking a coke out of a glass bottle- it's an experience I wouldn't trade for the world. I want this to become my home. I want the people who spend their days in India town to recognize me. I don't want to be the novelty mzungu. I want to be one of the regulars. I want to blend so I can help... so I can love... and they can love me.
Eating where Malawians eat is another experience that I love. Now I know even the "Malawian" restaurants I got to aren't exactly where most Malawians eat, it's still a little pricey, but it's a good compromise. I am still a little nervous about getting sick at certain restaurants. I get nervous that the chicken on my plate might be the one that I saw earlier that afternoon being carried- dead, skinned, and feathered- by bicycle under the blazing sun with no refrigerator. I want to blend as much as possible... but that doesn't mean that I am comfortable with dysentery. While it's nice to occasionally go out to our favorite Indian restaurant in town, I have found that for the most part I enjoy eating the less expensive traditional fare.
Saturday I went back out with the Chisomo girls. This week we had our first game (or at least the first one since I have been playing with them). I wish I could say it went well...but we got schooled. By little boys. We played the boys under 12 team, and they kicked our butt 3-1. Let me tell you, those boys are good. They have obviously been playing their entire lives. They know how to pass, to keep their head up, to trap with a direction, they have soft touches on the ball, they play as a team.... all things that we are lacking. Hopefully with a little more practice we can learn these things. Maybe we should call the boys back and have them teach us. Talk about being humbled. I am a good 11 years older than their oldest player... getting schooled by little boys on the soccer field is not something I want to participate in daily. Regardless of the win/loss/embarrassment, it was a great time. I feel like I am starting to build connections with these girls. I want to be friends with them, not just teammates. I hope the more I show up the less weird it is that I am from a different background, country, culture. I hope that we can erase those lines and build new ones. Ones that cross the cultural divide and bond us as friends.
I pray that God gives me compassion. Helps me relate to people on their level, not mine. Helps me see them as people, as friends, as equals. I pray that God humbles me and shows me that everything I am doing is for Him... not for me. I pray that God helps me realize that all that I do is to glorify HIS name, not mine. I pray that everything I do I do for God... to show His love and His amazing grace. I pray I do this all for His will, and because He has led me to where I am.
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