i came across this blog in a complicated, seven-degrees-of-kevin-bacon type of internet stalking, and have been checking in on the status of this man, whom i've never even heard of, and this work, which i've also never heard of. but i thought the following assignment, among the other topics he's shared with his at least partly anonymous audience, was interesting:
He writes:
What about you and me? What’s our witness?
- First, think. Think long and hard about your workplace, your neighbors, neighborhood, city. What are the needs around you, where you are right now today?
- Second, dream. If no one would think you were nuts… If you held nothing back… If you were brave and full of compassion… What could YOU do to meet those needs? What could your service be?
- Third, write about it. Put your answer down in words. Post it if you have a blog.
- Fourth, share your answer with us. E-mail me. Message me on Facebook. Leave your answer or a link to a blog post about it here in the comments of this post. Or twitter it - use hashtag #MyWitness if you do so I can find it.
think, molly: what are the needs of my workplace? my neighbors? my neighborhood? belize city? where i am right now, this moment?
in my two years here in belize, i've observed that the handful of students i've worked with here at st. martins primary school are a pretty good representation of the greater injustices, poverties, and needs that plague this country on the whole. on any given day, most of them don't have pencils, notebooks, breakfasts, lunches, fathers, mothers, toilets, electricity, doctors, new shoes, or the abilities to read, to count, to spell; some of them don't have hope, or goals, or attention, or encouragement, or love. most of them don't know the promises of god.
sometimes, the prospect of "witnessing" in the face of these grave, desperate needs is daunting. in fact, i will admit, it's so intimidating that i usually fail to even attempt to fulfill my call -- i think as a christian -- to testify to the power of god's mercy and christ's transformative love in my life.
plus, an added burden is the question of, "who am i?" -- not in the existential way, but in the way of entitlement. who am i to encourage these children to do their homework when no one else, including their parents or teachers, really care? who am i to tell these kids that they are smart, and talented, and beautiful, and loved by god, when i don't feel those things myself most of the time? who am i to tell these kids that they should have hope -- god so loved the world! -- when, tomorrow, they'll be abused, neglected, forgotten, discouraged, or told that it's okay to have sex with whoever they want whenever they want ... or drink alcohol ... or do drugs ... or skip school ... or hit someone back ... stab someone ... shoot someone ...
belize is a devil's stronghold. it is not as outwardly impoverished as some countries in africa, asia, or even some of our neighbors in central america -- you won't see starved children with no clothes on, laying under a tent with malaria. but the intrusion of abuse, alcoholism, laziness, violence, corruption, and i might add MTV, have carved avenues for the values of pleasure, indulgence, and the laid back feel of the caribbean, man. the "belizean way" has left little significance, generally speaking, on education, accountability, responsibility, family building, or the word of god.
and so, the needs -- not unlike other parts of the world, or even our own blessed u.s. of a. -- are immense. and lord only knows where to begin. how to witness. how to be a light in a dark place without shouting about it, or pushing it, or imposing it. my light, however bright or dull it is, can be uncomfortable, indeed unfathomable, for the belizeans around me at times. of course i love god: i have a nice house to move back to in the states, i have a college degree, i have a faithful and loving soon-to-be husband, i have a savings account, and i have white skin. god is good because "i have."
and so what would i do, if no one would think that i was nuts? how would i show compassion on these people? i don't know! i wouldn't start a church; they have too many church buildings here. i wouldn't preach; there are plenty of preachers. i wouldn't teach in a school; the whole system is flawed. i wouldn't change the government; it would just fall into the same patterns again. i wouldn't be a doctor; these people don't just need medicine. i wouldn't bring millions of dollars; it would still land in the hands of the few. i wouldn't start a revolution; that would lead to more violence, more death, more suffering. i wouldn't even just sit and "be" and love god and pray; i'm not faithful enough for that and i would lose patience, and energy, with the sounds of gun shots and cussing at 5 am (that actually happened this morning!) outside my house.
god, what would i do?
well, i can say honestly that the only thing i would want to do is to lead one person -- one child -- to the lord. i would want to grow with that person spiritually, to read scripture with them, to pray with them, to teach them what i know and to let them teach me what they know about god and love, and to be bridge the divide between "white folk," top-down evangelism and the perspective of the bottom-up theology of those who are told all their lives that they are underprivileged and underdeveloped because they don't have money and their streets aren't paved. i would become a fool for christ with this person, and hug tightly to them in the shadow of the lord's wings. we would reduce ourselves to knowing nothing together -- truly knowing nothing but the lord -- and we would both give away all that we have:our possessions, our heritage, our love. i would love this person solely out of my love for jesus, and they would feel the same way about me. we would not be citizens of the world, living for today, but siblings in the lord and living only for the glory of the kingdom. when i looked at the person, sat with that person, held hands with that person, i would see only jesus christ.
lofty goals, hmph. but, as i recently memorized for a bi-monthly scripture memorization regimen, "i can do everything through him who gives me strength." (phil. 4:13), right?
what's my witness, then? i wish it were, well, witness! emptiness and fulfillment all at once in god; sharing it with someone intimately, not for our own pleasure, but for the delight of god. i want to sit at the feet of christ, rubbing his feet with my soft hair and with the nappy hair of a kriol belizean, all at once with no restraint and no awareness of the burdens we carry.
so for today, i'm going to get back to shuffling paperwork and later, i'll join that handful of students in the library for some tutoring, some book-reading, and some regular elementary school shenanigans like sticking out tongues, playing pretend, and hitting/spitting/kicking/screaming inappropriately. i'm not sure where i should begin to meet the needs i see around me in this loud, smelly, raucous city; but i am certain that believing that it is me who can do anything at all is not the place to start.
