Saturday, July 12, 2008
Restless Farewell
"How shall I go with peace and without sorrow? Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city.
Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret?
Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing who walk naked among these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them without a burden and an ache.
It is not a garment I cast off this day but a skin that I tear with my own hands.
Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but a heart made sweet with hunger and with thirst.
Yet I cannot tarry any longer.
The sea that calls all things unto me calls me and I must embark.
For to stay though the hours burn in the night, is to freeze and crystallize in a mould.
Fain would I take with me all that is here. But how shall I?
A voice cannot carry the tongue and the lips that gave it wings. Alone must it seek the ether.
And along and without his nest shall the eagle fly across the sun.
Ready am I to go, and my eagerness with sails full set awaits the wind.
Only another breath will I breathe in this still air, only another loving look cast backward,
These things He said in words. But much in his heart remained unsaid. For he himself could not speak his deeper secret.”
Monday, March 3, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
everyday life.....
Photo by Annie Snodgrass
Photo by Annie Snodgrass
Monday, February 25, 2008
in the neighborhood.....
Photo by Annie Snodgrass
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Fullness
I came back in August from a month at home to begin my new job. The church was beginning an intern program for our development and outreach ministry. D&O concentrates on meeting the tangible needs of people outside the walls of the church. I was to be an intern in this program, but I was also to be the Lead intern. This meant that I would not only be working directly with one of our outreach ministries but I would also be responsible for the personal development of the other interns. It’s sort of a first among equals type of position.
In the months that followed life filled up.
My five interns arrived and I was searching for the best way to lead them as they went about deciding how to best serve in the vast and needy community of Cairo.
I decided that my main focus and outreach would be to start an ESL tutoring program at a Sudanese refugee school. I was meeting with administrators, creating curriculum, teaching classes of beautiful children, and trying to find a way to make it all sustainable.
I was taking between 6 and 12 hours of Arabic classes each week.
Me and a few other people from the church were creating the beginnings of a new young adults ministry in the church. We were planning events and scrambling at services to get e-mail addresses from every 20 something we saw.
I started a small group for young adults.
I was leading a small group for the youth.
I was helping facilitate a seven week training for small group leaders among the adults in the church.
I was eating, breathing, not really sleeping, running, planning, dreaming, and flying. Life was full.
My responsibilities had gone from few to many, my small group of friends had exploded into a wealth of new relationships, my knowledge of this fascinating place was overwhelmed, and my brain hurt like a warehouse, it had no room to spare. Fullness brought new challenges. New challenges required more of me. More of me required more of God. There was no room for the insecurities that had caused restriction in the past. There was less time to deliberate and more need to take risks. There were new failures and new victories. There were peaks and valleys, some lasting months and some lasting minutes. It was sometimes good and sometimes bad and always life.
It remains that way. Life is still full. I’ll be leaving in June to return to the states and as I see my time here coming to a close I feel a need to consume all the fullness that is in this here. I want to suck the life out of this place.
I want to find better ways to teach my refugee students and a way to make sure that when I leave someone is there to take my place.
I want to enjoy every difficult and joyful growing experience with my interns and learn what it is to give my life for them.
I want to create a community of hope where broken and lonely young adults can find life within the body of Jesus.
I want the youths I mentor to be able to pursue God on their own and in their own unique way. I want my friends to know each day that I love them.
I want to possess every laugh, thought, and song fully in its moment. I don’t want to force life but to pursue it. Life will always happen on its own. I can’t control it. I can only take it in it’s fullness and let it wash over me. I want God to take all I have in this life as His own and make it complete in Him. He is the fullness I feel here. I want my life to be His. I want my life to be full. To pursue life is to pursue Him.
My first year. A small tree with a lot of fruit.
I had one main focus and that was the youth ministry. I had a few friends my age and that was mostly the youth staff. Some things were big such as the family of seven that I have lived and a city of 20 million people like Cairo never lends itself to simplicity. But in comparison to this year life was simple. It was year that tore down a lot of preconceived notions of others and of self. It was a year that opened up the possibilities of new gifts, like a flickering passion to teach and the occasional new word in a foreign language. It was a renaissance for old passions such as loving people and helping them find the freedom to become completely themselves. It was a year of planning and programming and throwing it all out the window so that God could do what He wanted. It was year where 4 people found a family in each other. It was abundant but simple. The lessons were simple but hard. I was simple but overflowing with life. Maybe the past just always seems simpler. We forget the details and the bumps that have since been smoothed out. And so I remember it as simple, as a small spring pouring forth new water. But the fruit would fall from the tree, the spring would cause a flood, and a wild jungle oasis would grow in the middle of the desert, exploding with life from it's simple beginning.
An Oasis of Refuge and Renewal
We meet under a tent, on Fridays. We have a service with African style worship where dancing and yelling is encouraged. People cook for other people's kids when they are sick. We have guards posted outside 24 hours a day. We're always understaffed. We've planted 4 daughter churches in Sudanese refugee communities in Cairo. We baptized 6 youth at a service in February. The government spies on us. When I first arrived we were trying to relocate. It hasn't happened yet. A month after I arrived our senior pastor died in a tragic accident. That still hurts. Last year one of our staff confessed to stealing money from the church. He’s still family. Our acting Senior pastor and our Small groups pastor are both leaving in a week to begin new ministries. We don’t know how on earth to fill their shoes. We’re facing new hardships daily. We’re being pruned. But more and more people are coming to sing under our tent every week. We’re not a perfect church by any means but we keep finding that we’re God’s church and He loves us a great deal.