It’s amazing how much I’ve taken personal space for granted. The concept of personal space didn’t cross my mind when I was at home, sitting in my bedroom by myself reading a book or journaling. It didn’t occur to me when I thoughtlessly jumped into the bathroom for a shower, or when I decided I wanted to go to bed early one night. But, when the quietest spot you can find to read a book or journal is a room full of people in a bubbling conversation; when taking a shower requires checking the bathroom queue to ensure that you haven’t skipped anyone, or standing outside the bathroom door eagerly awaiting the final minute of your forerunner’s ten minute shower period, praying there’s still hot water left for you; when going to sleep early (or late) is regularly disrupted by the fact that you share one tiny room with five other girls: that’s when you realize how much you value personal space. Living for one month in a tiny house with 15 other people made me realize – and quickly – how big of a deal it was in my life.
My team and team Genesis have been working in the Elsiesriver area outside of Cape Town this month with the New Hope Jeremiah Project. It’s pretty much an after school program for kids in the neighborhood including dance classes, bible studies, and weekly neighborhood feedings. It’s all taken care of by our ministry contacts Connie & Margie Haynes – who are affectionately called Pa and Ma by everyone. They’ve essentially opened up their home to the neighborhood, and serve them ceaselessly. It’s been a blessing building relationships with the people of the neighborhood, and Pa and Ma are absolutely fantastic. But, every once in a while, you just need your own space, right?
So, there was a moment a few days ago where all I wanted was a quiet place to journal, but found every crevice of the house swarming with people having loud conversations. I wanted to stand in the middle of Pa and Ma’s living room and yell “I HATE PEOPLE,” at the top of my lungs loud enough for everyone to hear me, simply out of frustration. Thankfully, a saner mind prevailed, and I realized that kind of response would be absolutely futile. What use would screaming do? It wouldn’t create an impenetrable bubble around myself, and it most definitely wouldn’t get rid of any of the people in the house. So rather than scream, I desperately looked around the room for some sort of escape, even if it were only momentary. What I found instead was Ma, sitting off in the corner of the living room, humming to herself while hemming a pair of pants. There she was, calm and collected, engaging in one of her favorite hobbies amidst the conversation, laughter, and chaos of all the people surrounding her.
And of course, I had my “aha” moment. Pa and Ma carry out the majority of their lives void of personal space, not because they don’t believe in it, but because they choose to place it much lower on their priority list. What gets ranked higher on their list? Welcoming the entire neighborhood – drunkards, drug addicts, hurt and confused adults and children – into their home, building intentional relationships with anyone who appears at their doorstep, and catering to the needs of others – including myself – even if it means sacrificing their own comfort. Can you imagine people in your house at all times of the day and night, coming through your kitchen while you cook, lounging in your living room while you try to relax, knocking at your door only a moment after you’ve finally taken a seat? If Pa and Ma were to have moments of frustration just as I had, there would be no New Hope Jeremiah Project in the neighborhood. Kids would have no where to spend their time after school, and an entire neighborhood would go without the godly example that Pa and Ma set. Ministry for Pa & Ma is not something that can be adjusted with the flip of a switch; ministry is their lifestyle, and it encompasses all that they do.
Caught staring at her in disbelief, Ma laughed and invited me to come sit by her. In the one moment of pseudo-alone time she got, she gave it up to have a conversation with me. Boy, did I feel stupid.
I equate how Pa and Ma live with – to a certain extent – how Jesus felt when he walked around in a town. People from all over would talk about him, talk to him, pull him aside to ask for help, stop and detour him for days at a time, and even grab at his garments in the hopes of experiencing his power. Imagine how different Jesus’s life would have been different if he demanded to travel from point A to point B without making any stops, or if he only associated with those of a higher standard of living. Imagine how radically different our lives would have been if Jesus refused to have less than an arm’s length distance personal space bubble at all times.
Yeah. Seriously. I may hate people sometimes, but it takes men and women like Pa and Ma to love the way Jesus loved – love all types of people all the time, even when it gets frustrating, messy, inconvenient, and especially when they’re all up in your personal space. I could stand to take a page out of their book.
