A change

Well I'm kind of annoyed.

It is going to be virtually impossible to blog on two different things all year! I have this blog and my WR blog. But this blog I like because it's archived back so far. Hm. Conundrum. (ha, that rhymes).

Well, for this one at least I'm just going to copy and paste. So this same blog is on both sites. And before I put it on here let me just say I am LEAVING for a year in like 8 days... so if we haven't talked in a while PLEASE call me to say goodbye! And if I don't answer... well... you know how it goes. Leave a message. I'm going to be really really responsible this week.

Home Stretch

One by one I'm closing out the details of my life... saying goodbye to precious people, once again preparing to spend great lengths of time on anti-malarial medication... my heart is both under attack and in desperate anticipation... I'm dreaming of Africa - of hot wind and the grit of sand in my teeth... I'm thinking of the unparalleled feeling of novelty and excitement when I step off a plane into a new place...

It sounds like I'm getting ready to go on a mission trip.

As I've visited and reflected one thought has struck me. There are two very distinct versions of Christianity and I witness both in people I know. There is one version of Christianity that is very good - good church attendance, good deeds, good prayer life, good theology, good fellowship. There is nothing overtly amiss in this practice of Christianity. But there is something intentionally escapist. There is a neglect of radical sacrifice; of violence, of death to self. Sometimes I say to myself, "I wish I could be a good Christian." Those who know me know that I don't fit the stereotype well. I wish I could go through life and think God is good and do enough and be satisfied.

But I can't.

And this is why: I'm a haunted woman.

I'm haunted by the faces I can put on poverty; of the names I can put on suffering and martyrdom; of the sallow cheeks, the dry and cracked skin, the embrace, the hot breath, the flowing blood, the hate-filled eyes... these are not abstractions to me. I am haunted by the reality of the lost and dying and I cannot ignore the responsibility that this knowledge gives me.
And this is why I will go and I will live and I will die for this cause. This is why I will forego other dreams, alternative life-plans, ambitions, goals... I surrender them. Because those concepts are people and those people mean too much.

That's why I can't just be good.

"...the kingdom heaven suffers violence, and violent men take it by force." (Matt. 11:12, KJV)