Warning: This blog mentions poop. Push past it.
Scene 1
It’s the first week of November and our whole squad has been denied access into Vietnam, so we are waiting in hostels in Kuala Lumpur. I wake up, head to the bathroom and have to wait because it is crowded. Finally, it is my turn, so I go to the bathroom and then the nightmare begins.
The toilet will not flush. I go into a slight panic.
I have literally clogged the toilet with poop. This is so embarrassing.
Think. Think. Think!
I legitimately grab toilet paper and begin frantically hauling waste out of the toilet and into the small trashcan beside it. Oh dear Jesus, this is gross.
I try to flush the toilet again and this time it work. YES!
Happy to have escaped that embarrassing situation, I ferociously scrub my hands , march out of the bathroom and carry on with my day.
END SCENE
Scene 2
It’s the last week of November and my whole team is in Da Lat on vacation. We finished ministry for the month and we are enjoying the wonderfully cold and calm city of Da Lat.
Feeling restless, I walk outside and stand on the step in front of the hotel and take in the noise and sights.
In the distance, I can see a man struggling down the sidewalk and I begin to pray for him. As he hobbles closer, I can see that his left foot is poorly bandaged and he’s trying to walk with raggedy flip-flops. My compassion and my obligation to him as my brother, as a dearly loved son of God compels me to move off my stair and to walk over to him, but I don’t.
I battle back and forth in my head about how it will be awkward and how he won’t understand me and how I don’t want to bend down and pray for his feet, but at the same time, I feel compelled. I know that I am called to pray for the sick and to care for those that the world casts aside, but I don’t.
I say “hello” three times before he hears me and when he does, he gives me a faint smile. He continues to drag his raggedy black flip-flop down the street past me and I tell myself that it is too late. However, he is moving extremely slow and I know that it would take me fifteen seconds to catch up with him, but I don’t.
Appalled, I think to myself, “You’ll pick up poop out of the toilet, but you won’t pray for a man’s foot?!”
END SCENE
Sometimes my pride overrides the prodding of the Holy Spirit and it is embarrassing.
Why are there limits to my love? Why do I care so much about my image that I am willing to haul poop out of a toilet? Why do I care so much about my image that I am unwilling to pray for a stranger’s foot?
I want so badly to be humble and loving and I have a good feeling that I am going to have to venture deeper down the path of brokenness to get there.
I don’t ever want to silence love’s call to pray for the sick or minister to the lost and I pray that you feel the same. After all, isn’t that why we are here?
Lord Jesus, please kill this pride that viciously robs me and I ask that you instill in me humility and meekness. Let my focus be on You and Your kingdom and not on me and my fame. God, I pray that you get great glory from my life, in Jesus’ name, amen.
