Being in Albuquerque has forced me to deal with one of my biggest spiritual issues: Pride. I did not realize how insidious it was until I could not find a job to save my life. Ten job applications, I was trusting God. Fifty job applications, I thought to myself "Okay, this is what faith is…" Seven hundred plus applications, getting to the "final interview" three times, and still no job, God and I were "having relationship issues".
I was trying everything in my power to "stand on my own two feet", prove to myself that I could do life. When this did not happen, I became bitter toward God. I felt like I was standing in front of Him saying, "HEY! I took care of Your children. I fulfilled my part of the deal. YOUR TURN!!!"
However, one day, I was speaking with a friend about my "problem" and his response was unwavering: "Chase, you feel called to work with the poor, right?" My head nodded automatically, "Right…" He then hit me right between the eyes, "What makes you think you are above their struggles? What makes you think that God loves you any more than He loves them? What makes you think YOU should get special treatment?"
Ouch.
As much as I justified it in my own head, that's what I was doing. Here I was, having spent a year and some change living with the homeless, and I was complaining that I deserved a job. Because I had a degree, because I was supposed to be at "this point in my life right now", because I spent so much time feeling indignant about what I "should" have, I did not count my blessings in what I did:
1. My parents fed me and loved me everyday.
2. I got to live with my aunt working off rent.
3. I had a car.
4. I was not hungry when I went to bed.
5. There are more blessings here than I can type.
This dangerous sense of entitlement made me dissatisfied with God. If I really took a hard look at what I deserved from God, I need only to look at the cross. THAT'S what I deserve. I am a nobody. However, on that cross, Christ identified with me, and I Him. He is my entitlement. I realize that I am only as good as the one I am following and to the extent that I am following Him. And if my faith is to bring about change, I must follow Him: through the muck, next to the "untouchables", through the pain of filled tombs, being a man of a poor spirit, depending on God to do miracles.
Living in the "War Zone" of Albuquerque (They renamed it the "cultural district"…
politics) has forced me to rely on God. It has forced me again to take a hard look at my neighbors and how to love them. It has forced me to ask the question: "Where are you God?" during times of suffering, only to have Him say, "I am with you to the ends of the earth. [Did you forget or something?]" (Brackets mine)
Has the earth ended? In spite of what that dude in Los Angeles said/says, it has not. Christ is still here. He told us to pray: "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on EARTH as it is in heaven" (emphasis mine). I know God has called me to the World Race. While I know God will provide, I haven't a clue how it will all pan out. All I can do, is hold up my loaves and fish and say, "God, do something with this, please…" and watch Him feed souls.
Yesterday, I was praying over the neighborhood, and asking God to continue to restore His kingdom here. As I was praying, a girl came up to me on a bike, too small to belong to her. She had a dew rag on her head, and was heavily tatted up wrist to neck, and back again. She ambled over and asked, "Hey… do you have fifty five cents so I can get a poptart for lunch?" I saw desperation in her eyes; The kind that I had felt so many times.
"You spangin' for a poptart? I wish I had some money, but I'm kinda poorer than the economy right now…"
We laughed real hard. It felt good to laugh like that.
"But seriously, I don't have anything…" I began to make an excuse, but then I remembered a second chicken my mother had bought for me the last time she was at the store. I used to be very indignant at these gifts of generosity. However, I now see that in her gifts, my mom was showing me how the provision of God works: "…but I gotta whole chicken in there. I know I can't eat all of it by myself. You want it?"
The girl lit up and screamed: "FUCK YEAH!" and dropped her bike to hug me. It was there that God redeemed struggle, and showed me what His love can do: Feed souls, destroy death, and bring life.
