Here I sit. On the floor. Dirty. Exhausted. Teeth and hair unbrushed. Sporting sweatpants and a paint-splashed t-shirt. No makeup. In desperate need of a shower and a nine hour nap. Currently camped on the floor of Starbucks in the Istanbul (Turkey) Airport…slowly working my way through a seven hour layover–Romania is just around the corner. One more flight and we’re there. As I sit here scribbling in my journal, asking God what to update you on, tens of dozens of people walk past me–each group more trendy and beautiful than the last. For the past nine months I’ve been living in run-down, poverty-stricken areas. Dirt floors. Rice. More dirt. More rice. I’ve seen more people walking barefoot than I have people who own a pair of shoes. And now?
This airport is really throwing me off. I look to my left: hair cosmetics, makeup, perfume. To my right? Clothing, bags and shoes. Further down the hallway–all the food, books and jewelry you could possibly want. Everything about this place screams “you are not good enough, try harder”. Although we’re entering a place where white skin is now the norm, something in the atmosphere presses on me here, letting me know that I am stll an outsider. Only this time it’s different–it has nothing to do with my skin color, and everything to do with my posessions. To be honest, it feels awful. And I begin to wonder if this is what Jesus felt like.
I’ve realized a few things about myself (these long layovers are good for something)…God painted me with messy, red hair–CLEARLY i’m not created to blend in. The Jesus in me longs to cry out, “So what!?”. But my fighting flesh is desperately trying to drown itself in the acceptance of this world. Why is this so difficult? Why are such temporary things of such great importance to me?
And then it hits me: I do not have a grand enough image of Heaven.
How many times have you gone through a mall, found a cute pair of shoes, and thought about them at least one more time, other than when you were in the store looking at them? ….Next question: How many times have you read a description of Heaven and gone back later in the day/week to meditate on it?
If I truly treasured what awaits me in eternity, things that moth and rust could never destroy…I wouldn’t dare give a second thought or glance to the things of this world (more specifcally, this airport). But I do!! I purchase the t-shirt that’s on sale. And jeans to match. But that’s it. Until I find the perfect shoes to go with it. And after that, I’m finished. But then I find a purse that would look great with…
Before I know it, my closet is full of pretty shoes, and Fi-fi in Rwanda is even hungrier today than she was yesterday. I’m not saying it’s blasephemy to buy a pair of shoes. I’m just challenging myself to think a little, here. So I have to ask myself…can I gain a grander image of Heaven without loosening my grip on the things of this earth?
Nope.
I’ve tried to justify it. Oh, how i’ve tried! On this trip, I’ve often used, “We had a hard month. We’ve had to bathe in buckets and sleep on hard floors, eating rice and bananas for five weeks straight…I deserve this“. But for some reason, sitting on this starbucks floor reminds me that my place in this world is not in front of a cash register. It’s at the feet of God’s people. My place in this world is on the floor–a servant at the foot of God’s throne.
Somewhere along the way, I’ve lost sight of what Heaven truly means to me. I’ve traded in the pearly gates for strands of pearls. I’ve forgotten that GOD HIMSELF is the reason why Heaven is so grand–not the golden streets or the crowns that await us. So i’m starting over. I’m embracing my label: outsider. In the last hour or so, I’ve been filled with a new peace about my appearance and belongings. The stains on my t-shirt? Pediasure and food spit-up from loving on sick babies in India. The holes in my sweatpants? Torn from hiking up a montain in Nepal to preach the gospel to a Monk who’d never heard of Jesus. Beautiful.
So, let’s try this again: Here I sit. On the floor. Dirty. Exhausted. Teeth and hair unbrushed. Sporting sweatpants and a paint-splashed t-shirt. No makeup. In desperate need of a shower and a nine hour nap. Currently camped on the floor of Starbucks in the Istanbul (Turkey) Airport…meditating on the glory of God, and the eternal home that awaits me–and all the other outsiders–where we’ll forever sing of His fame.
And so begins my quest for a clearer, grander glimpse of the ONLY thing worth having.
Join me?
“Therefore, they are before the throne of God, and serve Him day and night in His temple. And he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore. The sun shall not strike them, nor any scortching heat. For the lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eye.”
Here is a call for the endurance and faith of the saints.
Rev 7.15-17, 13.10
