Ministry has been my entire life for the past year. It wasn’t my job that I did during the typical workweek. It was a 24-hour a day opportunity to serve and love those around me- local friends, random strangers, and my World Race family.
It was easy to live out a life of ministry in the Racer lifestyle. More often than not you have no real plans, and even if you do, other cultures are so flexible that you can change your plans on a whim if something else comes up. Taxi rides could easily turn into lunches with your taxi driver, followed by a fun-filled city tour to the local hot-spots. At the end of the day, you end up praying for your taxi driver for whatever his needs are. Trips to the coffee shop more often than not turned into impromptu “counseling sessions” with tourists who are unknowingly searching for the Truth. Sitting in the park on a sunny day usually entails holding mini-versions of VBS for street children by singing songs and playing games with them while strangers look at you like you’ve lost your mind—which, let’s face it, you have since you’re crazy enough to be on the Race in the first place.
Maybe it’s not appropriate to call it “ministry.” Perhaps that’s too formal and conjures up images of old-women missionaries in long denim skirts and gray-haired buns. But regardless of what you want to call it, ministry flows out of a heart of love for the people around you and a willingness to put your plans for the day aside. I’ve blogged about this before, but it’s such a critical lesson for me that I’m doing it again.
But how does that work in the American schedule-obsessed culture? That’s been one of my biggest struggles since I’ve been back in the States for a month. Since I stepped foot back into my home country, I have held tight to my plans, even though I’ve had few real obligations. I view the days as mine, and mine alone. I know they’re not, but I want them to be. Not only that, but people that I would have started a conversation with during the last year—people waiting in line with me, cashiers, people at coffee shops—aren’t as keen on conversing as they are in other countries. It takes two to tango, you know?
So how do I continue a lifestyle of ministry against social norms? I still love everyone around me just as much as I did in other countries, so why is it proving so difficult? Does living in America mean that ministry must be mainly intentional—scheduled afternoon visits at soup kitchens and nursing homes? I know in my heart that’s not the only way, but I can’t seem to put anything else into practice right now…
Suggestions, comments, life experiences… I’ll take them all.
