Normal: I get up, work-out, shower, put on some makeup and do my hair, have my coffee, read my Bible, check my e-mail and get in my car to drive to work. I drive with the radio blasting to my favorite songs while applying lip gloss. It's my little world, and except for a few minor inconveniences, it feels pretty much like my life in the States. And then I get to work...
Not normal: I walk into work with people whose lives are being slowly ripped into pieces everyday by poverty. My co-workers are not any less immune to the effects of poverty than anyone else in the townships. I've been working for the past month with some of our home based carers in one of the townships, and walking beside them everyday, I see the difficulty of their lives and hear the hardship of their stories. Grace* has just lost her shack/home to a fire and lost everything she owns in it. Angela's* 17 year old daughter is pregnant and they can barely feed the mouths they have now. Pam* made some extremely bad financial choices in taking out loans and credit and is financially devastated, begging every person she meets for spare change even though she has a steady job and an income, which is more than most can say. Nan* has TB for the third time. I watched as Flora's* son was shot at and then arrested in the street yesterday in front of the whole neighborhood for dealing drugs. None of them had a hot shower this morning. None had a warm breakfast. Every one of them walked to work this morning. It's highly likely that they had no heat and that their shack roof leaked last night.
So what am I supposed to do about all of that? How am I supposed to live at the intersection of normal and not normal? I am the "sister" in charge after all. And I'm white. And I have the higher education. And I'm from America and I'm a "missionary" so I must have all the answers right? Right?
Can I tell you something? I do not have answers. I'm not gifted any differently than you are. I'm not any braver than you are and I certainly don't have more faith. Being designated a "missionary" is just a title. That title does not magically give me insight into sharing Christ or fixing poverty.
What can I give these women that God has brought into my life for just a short time?
What am I investing here?
I can only give what I have. My heart. My tears. My smile. My hugs. My prayers. My education. My time. A listening ear. Transparency. My faith.
In Matthew 25, Jesus tells us that it is a fact that we have all been richly invested in by God. Thankfully, we are only responsible for the portion assigned to us, but using what we have been given is NOT optional. We are instructed to "go at once" and put our skills to work. I just wasn't taking my responsibility seriously before now. I was like the scared servant in the parable, that kept his talent to himself. I was afraid of what you might think of me. I was afraid to fail. And in my comfortable life and paralyzing fear, the investments God made to me in faith, were wasting away becoming totally worthless.
So then, when I took on the job title of "missionary", it felt like I came out of the proverbial "closet" of Christianity. Because of the "big step" I took, suddenly I am aware that people are watching me. Suddenly I am aware that they have expectations of how a "missionary" should behave. But you know what? As a follower of Christ, I should have been aware of that all along. I didn't have to move to Africa to invest my talent and time wisely, and to give what I have. Geography doesn't change the condition of your heart. I could have been doing that at my old job. I could have been a better steward of my co-workers there. I could have taken the talents God gave me in Tennessee and put them to work.
So now, here I am... all of my talents and time and gifts and skills and personality and experiences... all my eggs in one basket. No going back. And I show up to work every morning along-side these women with only what has been given to me. And I ask the same of them. Nothing more, nothing less. And I keep trusting in the One who gave me talent. And I believe that He didn't invest in me for nothing. And I trust that it's worth the risk. And I wait in hope to see the return on God's investment in me.
Don't do what I did. Don't wait to take responsibility for the talent God has given you. Discern your God given potential and go live it! I promise you it's worth it!
*names changed
