Something you should know about me: I like having answers. I like being asked a question and summoning all my studied material to mind, and knowing how more or less the finite ways this thing could play out. So when people ask me, “What will you actually be doing every day?” I freeze a little bit. I rattle off my list of “some racers do this type of ministry” projects and postpone the caveat I know I need to include. “Some mornings, we’ll wake up with zero idea what ministry looks like for that day. And we have to trust God in that.”
That’s so hard for me. Acknowledging the Spirit is one thing, but actually trusting Him to guide me through conversations and actions is a whole slough of challenges in itself.
Trust me when I say that I do not take prayer walks in my own city. I do not afford myself time to meander around D.C. with a true ministry focus for those few hours before I head to work.
But earlier this month, I got to be a part of a project with White Flag.
Nancy and I spent one early morning photographing their new Victory flag around our favorite D.C. destinations and engaging in the conversations it provoked. We relinquished our time, our pride, our words, as much as we could. And let me tell you, surrender never felt so smooth.
I shared some of our experiences with the owner of White Flag, and figured I would clue you all in, as well. So here are some snippets of surrender and–well, you’ll see just how fruitful that can be.
The Lincoln Memorial is one of my favorite spots of all time. Abe looks pretty tall in there, and words are carved into the walls reminding us of our history. Plus, if you sit on the steps and gaze out at the Washington monument, you’re basically Nicholas Cage in National Treasure (although I hope you don’t plan on stealing the Declaration). And something you’ll soon find out if you spend some time in D.C., is it’s a great place to run in the morning.
We were taking photos at the Lincoln Memorial, literally shrouding ourselves in the truth of His victory and holding up the coordinates for everyone to see. A runner had just conquered the 145 steps between the reflecting pool and the chamber, and asked us to take a photo of him. Of course, we did. He started asking if we lived there, what we studied. We talked about how many miles he ran and how he was enjoying D.C. versus his home in Colorado. And finally he asked us what this flag was all about. We told him that the numbers were the coordinates of Jesus’ tomb and resurrection. He heard the word “resurrection” and said, “supposedly.” We said, “definitely.” He chuckled a bit, and we had some more nice small talk before he jogged back to his hotel.
Proclaiming the resurrection was so radical at the time of Jesus’ death, and in a lot of ways it’s still radical today. We declared it before a complete stranger and he wasn’t convinced. He might have even thought we were crazy. But I can’t help but believe he thought about our certainty on his way home, that he lingered over the thought of Jesus as God just a little as he looked at his photos from that day. And that’s the totally-worth-it, God-ordained interaction that happens when we rest assured in the Gospel.
What’s lovely about the Capitol is less its grandeur and more its cramped quarters. Some of the rooms in there are surprisingly small—and we cram representatives from every state in them. It may seem like a juxtaposition—this symbol of Christian faith and this building that’s supposed to be so secular, but in a way I think they’re a lot alike. Forget that Jesus’ place of resurrection and the heart of the District both deal with laws for a moment. Focus on the kind of unity that they both embody. The Capitol brings together our states, in a country that is so divided and loves to disagree. Jesus’ tomb brought together Heaven and earth, and I don’t know what could be grander than that.
More than 7,000 people live without homes in D.C. It’s hard to walk anywhere downtown without encountering someone who is dealing with homelessness. So when we were taking photos outside of Union Station, we met Terry. Terry is big, and kind, and everything he owns is in two suitcases that are ripping at the seams. We asked if he wanted to take some photos with us and he laughed and said, “maybe next time.” We got to have a conversation with him about these coordinates and what they mean to us and it was all smiles as we parted ways a few minutes later. Inviting Jesus into your day gives you a courage that will open more doors than you can imagine. Striving to follow His example and interacting with whom society calls the least of us changes your actions in the most incredible ways. Asking the Spirit to work through us led us to Terry, who we ran into later in the day, and who greeted us like old friends. That’s amazing. That’s blessed. And that’s the beauty of saying a simple, “good morning.”
We take our days with a little bit of coffee and a whole lotta Jesus. Seriously, we live off sips and scripture and even named our small group that. This was at one of our favorite little shops in D.C.—Ebenezer’s. And it took less than five minutes inside to spot someone digging into the Word. Caffeine is great, but nothing energizes you like seeing someone reading their bible out in the open, amid the hustle of people rushing to get to work. You get to recognize this awesome thing you have in common—that you know and believe the truth He’s given us. We got to chat with this sister in Christ for a few minutes and tell her all about White Flag. How great is it that we can talk about and study Jesus out in the open like that? That freedom is so so valuable, and it’s nothing compared to the freedom He won for us.
