Who are these people who write blogs about themselves, and how did I become one of them?

 

I
haven’t written a blog in awhile. You’d think that it wouldn’t be
hard for me, because I type my journal all the time. But I don’t like
writing about myself anymore. You get tired of thinking about
yourself all the time when you blog. It gets wearisome, all the
bellyaching and feeling and thinking about the world and how you
interact in it. Everything is a mirror. The computer screen is a
mirror. Who thinks they are so important they have to write blogs
about themselves? Who are these people who write blogs about
themselves and how did I become one of them? We’re supposed to blog
every week, but if I had to write sentences about myself and my
feelings on a weekly basis, I’d vomit.

I’ve
been really thinking about blogging lately… wondering why people
care what I write down. There’s so much pressure to blog sometimes,
because I want to have a good story to tell. A story that matters-
where there’s a conflict and a resolution. I want to be a character
that people can relate to, that people cheer on in the struggles of
life.

My
blogs have been so random, but, looking back on them, I have laughed
at myself. At how much I’ve tried to be serious and to put morals in
there, trying to find the good stories in my life. I once went to
this bible class and the teacher told us very passionately how we all
were taught to read the bible wrong. He said that Sunday school class
has taught us to pick and choose stories from the bible and teach the
value in them. He said that by doing that we were treating the bible
like a collection of short stories, and, because of that, we were
missing the point: God’s story has a beginning and an end. He was
very passionate about it, and I left the night agreeing with him that
sunday school lessons were not the way to teach the bible. I then
realized that he did not teach us how to teach the bible, but only
pointed out the problem with teaching it that way. I never resolved
how to teach the bible correctly to that age group. Yesterday, I
taught a bunch of kids the story of “David and Goliath” and how
God can use anyone, no matter how small. I didn’t tell them the part
about how David sawed Goliath’s head off and carried it around for a
few hours. I almost told them about the time when David danced naked
before the Lord, but decided against it.

So,
here I am, writing my life story in Africa. Uganda is incredible.
Every day has looked different for us. Some days we do AIDS meetings,
others we preach, others we file for Compassion, others we work with
youth, other days we evangelize. THere’s always somethng to do, 
but I’ve found myself wondering why it is that I am doing it. Or,
really, why it matters that I’m doing it.

I’ve
spent the last few weeks disgusted at the idea of blogging and
volunteering.

“I’m
just not in a place where I want to tell people what I’m doing here,”
I tell a girl on my team. 

“Why?”
she asks.

“Because
then people would think that I’m like this good person.”

“Maybe,”
she suggests, “you should write about why you don’t want to write.”

Yes,
the American Church can be petty, it does feel great to hold
children, and I’m excited to pray and “SHAZAAM!” God pops
that arm right back in, but…  I’ve been very convicted of my
motives. Why do I do the things that I do?  WHy do I want the
things that I want?

I’m
someone who loves to see God move in big ways. I came to Africa to
experience God. Meaning I came to Africa to see His glory fall in
ways that I couldn’t explain.  I’m a miracle-junkie. When I’m
having a bad day, I google the latest miracles- from resurrections,
to blind people seeing, the lame walking, demons fleeing, salvations-
I love the stuff. But… why?

When
I look at the life of Jesus- He performed tons of miracles, because
that’s the reality of the world that He lived in. He came from
Heaven, where the reality there is that Satan can’t touch people, so
people don’t have disease. He came to this earth and showed us how
people are meant to walk: in freedom. But, why did he do it? 

I
love people, and healings and deliverances would be for their greater
good, but…. do I pray because I LOVE? Or do I pray because I want
to experience a cool story?

My
intentions weren’t horrible, but they weren’t full of love. I wanted
to have the cool stories to tell, because I want people to know that
God is the same God now as He is in the Bible. I wanted to awaken
people to the reality of the Kingdom of God. But, what good does a
collection of stories do?

David
killed a giant. Cool story about God’s power, but what good is God’s
power if God doesn’t love us?  The Bible is a collection of
stories- some interesting, like NOah’s Ark,  some boring, like Leviticus; some very interesting, like the prostitute who was
hacked into twelve pieces and sent to the twelve tribes of Israel,
and some very boring, like Leviticus. At the end of the day, the
Bible could just be a book of really cool stories. But, it’s more,
because a man died on a tree because God loves you and me.

I
want to make right what has been wronged. Not because it’s a cool story, or it’s what I should do, but because I love.