living outside of the boat

Sometimes it must seem that Im always sitting at my desk on my computer to the Sisters who come through the door peeking in my room direction as they walk by. Im not too worry or concern, just an odd thought to entertain to view yourself via someone else. 

In saying this though, I have to admit that in the past week the computer has opened my world beyond me. Something to be said about technology and how small it can make the world feel in moments. 

I have explore the world in recent days, reading up on my youth ministry influence on human development for my essay. Exploring travelling images of different places as if to feed that memory bank of photos logged deep in my brain. Dancing with delight, meeting different cultures and that sense of wonder that is present when you explore. 

Reading today scripture for my desert day, Jesus walking on water I felt for a moment that its one of those scriptures I have read so often knowing words off by heart. It would be so easy to fall back into the past, hang to the those glorious moments of grace gifted to me. Today though, the scripture pushes, hits and pulls me. In the moment after Jesus and Peter return to the boat, this moment where I envision Jesus puts his hand on Peters cheek as if to say I am holding you my brother, I forgive you for doubt and fear not, see and believe. This moment has power, this moment brings tears, this moment moves the heart. 

When exploring the world, traveling to witness different cultures it comes a point where you feel a sense of disjointness not only within yet around you - well I did - between where you live and what you are experiencing. 

Recalling my travels sometimes when I daydream I have found myself producing the question of “How do I reconcile what I saw with my life here in Australia/Nz?”

I am painfully aware that this land is not how it should be. That I am living with this heart that is slashed through a memory, a hint, a thought of a different Land. One that is Home. One that is right. I guess I want to not feel momentary sadness that comes when I am grateful and I cannot believe how God has blessed me and yet I think about my brothers and sisters an ocean over who are barely able to get one meal a day let alone one of the many comforts I experience daily. 

I am not saying I feel guilty or condemned. I am saying I feel aware. I feel awake. I ache for a world without pain and suffering. I ache for a perfect world because I know it is coming. Because when you hold a child with a hungry belly and only have a smile to give. When you wipe the tears from a mothers face because her child is sick with a disease that should have been able to be cured with just a vaccine. Because when you hold a new born in your arms that is full of love, pureness to only learn its been discard, abandoned…. this makes me feel my life is spent in unending reconciling. Bringing harmony to the harsh realities of this life. Knowing who I am in Christ and then trying to actually walk it out. 

Purposefully entering the hurt of the world, the hurt of a friend, the hurt of a neighbour, without letting it crush me. Living in such explosive gratitude because of all the ways the Lord has blessed me and also humbling myself so I can bless others. Choosing to lean in and acknowledge the division of this world in a way that inspires me to action instead of shutting me down in delusion. 

I remember the whisper that called me to this new life and the church I’m drawn to. Its like stepping off that boat in living on water. Finding a quiet spot in my heart and living there with time and space shifted to accommodate my acceptance of this journey. I don’t walk into a museum-like expanse of the building without acknowledgement of the weight of this work or the great honour it is to have been offered an invitation. 

Yet, I wonder about the work of reconciliation. 

Am I simply a blessed body at the intersection of all this “privilege” and “presence”, and if so, how do I bear the cross with grace? How do I do it with dignity? How do I get past my own self worries to do the work I know I’m called to do? Given the ear of a community that’s ready to hear a new song - what will I say? At the heart of placement I see the incredible opportunity to learn and adjust to the real world challenge of striving for something I can’t see. Reconciliation is a lot like faith, without works - its dead. 

It is not work I can do alone or shrouded in pretence. What I want is to wrap some skin around this thing called living in harmony, I want to make it real by stripping away its irritating immanence. 

And only God can do that. 

The call to serve a particular ministry is not only choice. I question if my body, my heart and service could be best used… maybe even, needed - somewhere. I recall how other options fall apart despite my efforts, others never materialised, some doors stayed shut. In many ways this church chose me. 

God choose me. Only God could do that. 

My presence is my holy resistance to the struggle. In taking my place at this particular table I’ve accepted the charge to be the bridge to a different experience - one that could lead to reconciliation. I am charged with bringing my authentic self, my womanhood, my whole and holy self. I am called to be … by being. I’m called to be true to who I am, authentic in my identity, I’m called to share my much needed voice. 

I’m called to be wherever God is working among his people, wherever that may be, and to being transformed through staying in the boat or walking on water, perhaps many times over before this life is done. 

This time the deepest reconciliation happens first in me.