My dear squad leader Weston Belkot is an amazing blogger. In fact, he writes such good stuff that a few months ago he was named Blogger of the Month by the World Race staff, but what makes Weston a great blogger is not just his pictures or writing style or the accessibility to his thoughts. He has a mind that works on a plane that few people get to, and he is continually seeking wisdom and understanding and new places with God. Actually, I would much rather all of you read his blogs than my poems. Maybe one day you can pick my stuff up at a bookstore or something. In light of Weston’s blessed blogging brilliance (check out that alliteration!), here follows his most recent post, describing his/our experiences in West Africa…
I look back on my time spent in West Africa as a time of contentment amidst challenges, and I recognize the wisdom in choosing joy over self-pity. We have left a corner of a continent that even if someone said to me, “Weston, you have full power to change whatever you want,” I wouldn’t know where to begin. If a temporal, simplistic answer to Africa’s needs is given, don’t believe it. It’s not just corruption. It’s not just overpopulation. It’s not just aggression and the affect thereof. I’m torn.On one hand it’s by the presence of God and the leaders He appoints that change comes. Yet, I’ve seen more of God plastered on signs, buildings, and on the tongues of man than anywhere else in the world. We talk about sex being paraded in front of our faces by the media, but in many parts of West Africa God was on display.
I left Africa a humbler man. The way they worshipped the Lord made me think of David dancing until his clothes fell off. How willing am I to cheer for a sports team, but shouting for the creator of the world would be a look-around-and-see-if-people-are-watching moment. How they proclaimed His glory in their daily lives, and how often they thanked Him for the negligible convicted my living, breathing being of pride.
Nevertheless, there is truth that has been twisted. Truth that has been scrutinized, interpreted, and internalized until it hardly resembles what scripture advocates and more so what it admonishes. Much of this falls upon the shoulders of the pastors that stray away from, or disregard, the knowledge of the Word. The Bible says, “My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge.”
They might have five hour power vigils, but there is a selfish spirit of prosperity and power resonating from speakers and pulpits. In America, we have the biblical teachings of faith, love, and grace, but do we have the freedom to worship, as in truly worship, unhindered and do we have the awareness of the authority we walk in as God’s children? They get faith. They get authority, but maybe a little too much. It’s as if we’re all part of this one huge global body, and unless we each bring our portion-whether it be an arm, leg, head, or shoulder-the body will never be whole. (Man, that’s virtually good enough to be Scripture.)
Where we’ve been in Africa, the effects of a religion mindset has been greater than anywhere else I’ve experienced: legalism that binds, authority that leads to corruption, and passion that’s misplaced. Yet, I cannot judge. Whether or not I am farther along in wisdom, application, or understanding of our faith, I’m not there. I haven’t arrived. I’m still becoming. Whichever catchphrase suits you, I’ve realized that these idioms represent more of a measure of truth than I initially realized. No matter how much I think West Africans needs more grace, love, and mercy in their lives, the same is true for me in regards to freedom, faith, and hope.
Sufjan Steven has a song about a serial killer named John Wayne Gacy Jr. On the surface a model citizen, Gacy raped and murdered at least 33 young men and boys and buried most of them in the crawl space under his home. The song is beautifully chilling, and it ends with Sufjan saying the line,“In my best behavior, I am really just like him. Look beneath the floorboards for the secrets I have hid.”
We all have our secrets, blind spots, and shortcomings. No, they aren’t rotting bodies, but they’re in the dark, hidden from the light. Possibly, and most significantly, hidden from ourselves.
Sometimes we need to go out in order to realize what is going on within.
So thank you West Africa. Your hidden malaria cost us two teammates who had to return home, but you exposed deeply hidden traits of pride, judgmental hearts, control, and selfishness. Another sliver of ignorance has been removed, and for that I am thankful.
