Stip, Macedonia.
The place of beautiful mountains, tons of history (both biblical and not), and the city of my ministry this month.
We’re staying at a church, which is simultaneously an NGO for recovering drug addicts. People looking for help can come, drink coffee, receive fellowship, and eventually the Gospel. The leaders of the NGO and leaders of the church were themselves past addicts. They’re not afraid to talk of their past either. Why would they be ashamed of a past that was forgiven and wiped clean? Especially if they can use that to propel someone else forward?
It’s a really cool mentality to be around. Cool mentality, slightly weird living situation. Us 7 girls live in the back room, while men of all ages walk in and out of the church, looking for fellowship, addiction help, or both.
There’s one man in particular that has been here everyday, and we assumed him to be part of the church leadership. While still uncertain, I don’t think that’s true. I think he’s currently fighting the battle against drugs. For discretion purposes (and the fact that I can’t understand him, and don’t want to be rude by continually asking his name), I’ll refer to him as PJ, which stands for the Poofy Jacket he always wears.
We were really weary of PJ first. Non-American hosts don’t usually give you a breakdown of who is in charge and what their role is. It’s more of a figure it out as you go. Which totally works- the World Race is about embracing people’s culture and lives and never really being certain about anything. So, unsure of who anyone was, we just assumed everyone was in charge, and we would help whoever we could. PJ doesn’t speak English though, so that made it a little difficult. He would also be at the church from the time it opened around 9 or 10 each morning until the afternoon, which we thought was a little strange, but again, like everything else- we just went with it.
Fellowship for Macedonians means coffee, food, and more coffee. When people come in and out of the church, it’s to have coffee and snacks. Coffee and snacks means lots of dishes. If anyone knows me, they know that one of my BIGGEST pet peeves is dirty dishes in the sink. We’re blessed to have a dishwasher this month, so that makes dirty dishes even more nonsensical to me. Just put them in the machine? It’s right there? Seems like common sense, but every time people come in and leave, there’s about 12 cups sitting on the counter directly next to the empty dishwasher.
Well.
Jesus calls us to be servants right? Maybe the best way I can show Jesus here and live according to the Gospel is to do everyone’s dishes. I mean I’m not washing their feet. It’s just dishes.
That was going well until this morning, when PJ, who we have in fact concluded is currently struggling, walks in with a multitude of mugs, looks at me, says something in Macedonian which I can only assume means “Do these dishes”, and walks out.
WELL.
If you know me, you also know that I do not take kindly to being bossed around. I can take orders, I can follow leadership, I can do what is asked. But I CANNOT be bossed around. Why? Because I’m vain. Because in that moment, those 2 minutes of my time were more important than showing Jesus’ love to PJ. Because I’m not struggling with drugs, so my time must be more valuable. Because I’m a missionary from America, so my status is above his.
Does that sound like something Jesus died for? Did He take 40 lashes laced with bone so that I could tout my status above someone else’s? Did His blood spill all over the Earth so that I could look down on someone struggling, even though I’ve struggled with many things in my life?
At the beginning of this month, I was praying about what I need to work on. The Lord gave me the word ‘humility’ and backed it up with scripture. “Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves” (Philippians 2:3). I thought, “Well that’s funny, I’m pretty humble. I don’t know why He want’s me to work on this.” HA. Clearly the Lord knows me better than I know myself.
So, no, Jesus didn’t die a horrific death for me to think like this. He died so that I could be forgiven, so that I could be free. He died so that PJ could be free too. 1 Peter is peppered with wisdom about humility. Chapters 3,4 and 5 are laced with sentences like “have unity of mind, sympathy, brotherly love, a tender heart, and a humble mind”, “do not repay evil for evil or reviling for reviling, but the contrary, bless”, “love covers a multitude of sins”, “be an example for your flock”, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble“.
The Gospel isn’t about deserving God’s love. I didn’t do anything nor could ever do anything to deserve it. In fact, every day I’m alive I mess up pretty bad, and God still thinks I’m the coolest person on Earth. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m halfway around the world. To live my live in such a manner, that they can accept God’s unending and unapologetic love too.
I guess I just needed a reminder that ministry doesn’t have to look like building houses, passing out Bibles, or even preaching. Sometimes you can show love and minister to someone by simply doing their dishes.
