When we prepare people for the World Race, one of the first lessons we teach them is to release their expectations.
Yet we want to cultivate a spirit of expectancy. Expectations typically stem from a sense of control and entitlement, and are self-centered. Expectancy usually sprouts from surrender and gratitude, focused on God.
Caitlin Hennessy, a July 2010 World Racer, writes about letting go of expectations, even good ones like wanting to maximize their effective and utility in serving.
Our expectations of Haiti were crushed when we arrived at Canaan. It’s amazing how God works like that. We expect one thing and then God shows up and does something way better than we thought possible.
At first it stings a little. Our pride tells us God why aren’t we doing something important like helping in Port Au Prince with all the clean up from the earthquake. God gently or sometimes not so gently reminds us He is in control and we are here to do whatever he wants us to do for His glory.
A lot of times as Americans we want to see the difference we are making or do something that seems really great. We value feeling important and like our life really matters. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but these aren’t the values of the kingdom. The kingdom is not about feeling important based on what you do for God, but realizing all your value comes from Christ alone.
Katie Rowland, a World Race alumna serving as staff in Haiti, contrasts the stark images of what she sees physically with what she sees spiritually.
We arrive at our destination: where a building once stood. It was a school, and more. Karl was teaching English here when the earthquake hit. He and eight others escaped, and nearly a hundred inside the building died. The rubble has since been removed; all that’s left is a cracked and filthy foundation. Karl says the pancaked rubble was as tall as a man.
On either side are destroyed buildings, rubble remaining. Karl climbs atop the rubble and I follow. He starts shifting something around with his foot. . . it’s a human bone. Judging by its size and shape, I guess it may be a femur.
“See the clothes there, from the bodies. The bodies rotted away and were eaten by dogs. So many people died here, beautiful young people,” Karl says.
His voice has a strain to it I’m not familiar with, even after working with him on multiple occasions. “These bones were probably the bones of one of my English students.” . . .
The passage from Ezekiel 37 that we’ve been praying over Haiti becomes real in front of my eyes. We’ve been prophesying life into the spiritually dry bones of Haiti; as life in Haiti goes on, and the church continues to look to God for strength and guidance in the rebuilding process, I know God will be faithful to this country.
He will be faithful to breathe onto these dry bones so that the spiritually dead people of Haiti may come to life in Christ.
