A Hammock in a Treehouse [No Greater Love..]

 

 A preacher and bible scholar once said “When preachers come to me and say “I am very tired. I think I need a vacation.” I say “No you don’t, you need a cave. God says “be still and know that I am God.”” Nothing will give you a more honest heart evaluation than undistracted alone time with the Lord. This hammock is my cave and these are the inward reflections that surfaced during my time there. Forgive me if you run across a lot of “I’s” and “me’s””, but this is personal. 

            To understand the thoughts behind this blog I must first take you back to our previous location on the Island of Ometepe. If I could summarize the state of my heart there in just a few words it would look something like this; Humbled… Melted down… Formless … Undone … On the anvil … Loved. The family that so graciously invited us into their home and served us throughout our stay on the island was the source of my humbling. They sacrificed their time to cook me 3 meals a day, hand wash my clothes, wash my dishes, provide me with transportation, and serve me in any way possible.  It was a demonstration of God’s love, but selfishness blinded my awareness of this beautiful expression.

My mind was stuck in the materialistic and surface things. “I am sick. The food is not good enough. The proportions are too big. The bathroom is nasty.” As well as the deeper issues “Why am I here? My ministry in Honduras was so fruitful and relational and now we just travel church to church. We aren’t making an impact.” It was not that I was deceived by these thoughts. I was fully aware they were wrong and selfish. I beat and battered myself each and every time they crossed my mind, but they lingered in my mind and surfaced in my actions, or lack thereof.

 

It wasn’t until the last night on the island that God proceeded to crash these thoughts together with his revelation resulting in a cataclysmic collision of soul bending proportions… Ha alright so maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration. But if you would, please journey with me to the scene.  

 Sitting in my normal spot on the concrete front porch of our temporary residence, probably staring at the monkey, I am approached by Pastor Albierto. He says my name playfully in his thick Nicaraguan accent and then proceeds to speak a few words in a very slow and dumbed down version of Spanish for the sake of my comprehension, informing me of what is planned for the night. He says “the family has prepared a special dinner for us and he wants to share his testimony.” I think to myself ~ that sounds pretty chill ~, so I continue to peddle in my thoughts, again probably about that peculiar little monkey. Now joined by several of my teammates on the front porch we notice the family setting up chairs in the side yard. Over the course of the next hour pastors and members of from all of the churches we had been visiting on the island began arriving to the house. They are dressed to impress, and with no previous warning to prepare, other World Racers can only imagine what we look like. So here I am, in my gym shorts, surrounded by 30 or 40 members of several churches spread throughout the island, awaiting a service to begin in which we are being celebrated and sent off with a blessing. I feel the initial jolt to my heart; I thought “Is it really that big of a deal we are leaving?” 
            The service begins and continues forward through worship and Pastor Al sharing his testimony. When it is seemingly about to end the family comes out of the kitchen holding gifts in their hands and one by one begin to call our names to invite us up to the front. I witness the tears flowing down each of the family members faces as they give their precious gifts and hugs to each of my teammates, when I feel the second jolt and this time God speaks, “You missed it, but I did it anyways.” Now it is my turn. They call my name, and with this new revelation from the Lord I step forward unable to live in the emotion of the moment, because I had not invested the time to get to know the family. Tears now gushing down each of their faces they hand me a t- shirt, bracelet, necklace, and a love drenched hug. In that moment, causing my stomach to churn, the pastor asks me to speak a few words about my experience on the island. Unable to conjure up anything remotely close to living up to the emotion of the moment, I deliver a proto-typical robotic thanks, something I would normally scorn other people for. The night continues on and we say our goodbyes to the church members. The family brings us a special meal consisting of an assortment of fruits, fried chicken, and french fries along with fresh squized juice.

   The next morning was an emotional send off as well, including one of the boys giving me and Phil a couple of his baseball jerseys accompanying several more teary eyed hugs from the family.

 

I tell you this story, which may sound not so extraordinary, to give you a better understanding of what God is doing in my heart this month. This family loved my team and I with a sacrificial love. Scripture says;

 

“Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.” John 15:13

 

They layed down their life for these 2 weeks to serve us and although I missed my opportunity to invest in the family, God still blessed them and made a lasting impact on their hearts. I asked God why we weren’t making relational impacts and missed the opportunity for that very thing living only steps away.

 

So here is where I find myself today:

 Humbled, Melted Down. Formless. Undone. On the Anvil