Unlearning

I made it home and rested. I spent the first few days remembering, “This is a small Idaho town. I don’t have to act like I’m in San Diego. I can slow down. I can stop playing the Elevate game. I can take time to do things well. I don’t have to cram everything into a moment. I can take my time and do the things needed. I can throw quantity out the window and return to quality. There is time to get everything necessary done. It’s ok to walk. No more running. The race is a marathon, not a sprint. I can walk as if the end is important, but I can walk knowing I will get there in time. God is over all. God is above all. God is ordaining all.”

I remembered that sleep is good and my Elevate bad attitude likely came from lack thereof. So I slept and woke 11 hours later. I did that days in a row. I hope to continue until my body is healed from the ten week siege. 

I visited my brother, sister-in-law, and baby niece. (BTW my niece is cuter than yours.) They live with famous missionaries. And these missionaries showed me what my Elevate roommates never could. My Elevate roommates cared about being treated fairly. They cared to get what they deserved. They cared to be payed back to the cent. 

It rubbed off on me. 

I used to try to cast my bread upon the waters, but I forgot how in the battle among my living mates. The missionaries gave freely. They gave their blackberries. They gave their space. They gave their rooms (their daughter had a guest book in her bedroom, expecting strangers to stay there without her permission, without her even knowing they’d stopped by). They gave their food. They gave the time they’d planned to spend together watching the Olympics to watch something with us instead. They lived with abandon. Sure, maybe living in Ethiopia for 25 years taught them that, but why can’t I do that? No reason. My life is not mine. It belongs to King Jesus.

Neil Gaimans, Instructions, is one of my favorite books. I thought about it a lot this summer.

“There is a worm at the heart of the tower; that is why it will not stand.”

There are towers of darkness within me. There are lies I believe. I’ve chosen to believe them. I've chosen to align myself to the power of evil. In my folly and fear I've pledged allegiance to it. But a worm is at their heart. The breath of Jesus’ mouth will destroy every dark tower within me, and I will be liberated. He is my King, not the evil one. I've been learning to unearth these lies and call on Jesus to free me from their power. I've made a covenant with them. Only a stronger power can free me from the covenants I've made. 

“And then go home. Or make a home. Or rest.”

I will rest, but I can’t go home for I have none. I have my belongings in a bag and travel from here to there. 

It comforted me to stay with my brother. We both make our homes amidst another's home. We live in between. We live as nomads. We live neither fully here nor fully there, and that is the truth of life. We are tabernacles, not temples. We move in the desert wherever the cloud takes us. When the cloud moves, we move. When the cloud stops, we stop. When the wind blows this tabernacle to the ground, we look up and see the glory of our King. When our tabernacle is destroyed, we see heaven. 

Things to pray for:

Please pray for a clear path to follow. I don’t know where to go, and all my thoughts on the subject are conflicting.

Pray I will continue to look for opportunities to share the gospel (and for boldness). While there are many things from Elevate I wish to forget, there are some I would like to remember and hang onto. Please pray I will not forget these things in my haste to forget the others.