My Heart and the Life Verse Phenomenon, Part II

I have a confession:

Africa was never the desire of my heart.

Which, in a 20/20 hindsight kind of way, is how I know I'm exactly where God wants me to be.

Let's examine the reasons I never wanted to move to Africa:
1. I speak Spanish. I love Spanish. Why would I move to a continent entirely incompatible with 8 years of linguistic training?
2. I generally enjoy living in a nation with a stable infrastructure & an organized government, and without an international reputation for scams.
3. I bargained with God at the age of 9: I would go wherever He wanted me, except Africa.

Oh, sorry, you thought bargaining was only something adults do in the 4th stage of grief? Nope, kids do it, too. Here's how it went down for me:

I have a distinct memory of reading a collection of missionary stories which told about some place in Africa that had these killer ants that sting and bite their way into your ears and wreck your brain. Or something like that.

I sat on the floor of my basement reading about these ants and saying to God, "Okay, buddy, look. You can send me anywhere you want. But I am not going there. Got it?" We learn to bargain with God at such a very young age.

I toyed with the idea of mission work for the better half of my young life, and by my last semester at Wheaton College, my perception of mission work had changed drastically. I'm more in tune with the Humanitarian Work + Jesus model.

As in, "Yes, I'll build a well for your village, supplying you with safe drinking water that will potentially extend your life expectancy. When I'm finished with the well, can I tell you about some Living Water? It extends life expectancy, too." I'm all about that approach.

By May 2009, the "Reasons Maggie Never Wants to Live in Africa" list had grown:

4. I have a bunch of student loans, and few missions organizations will sign on full-time missionaries with debt.
5. I spent all 4 years of college answering the question, "What are you going to do with an English degree? Teach?" with an emphatic "NO WAY, NOT ME."
6. I need a salary. I'm not comfortable taking a job that requires me to itinerate support.
7. My brother Jake moved to Wheaton, and frankly, I want to be in the same state after a 4-year separation.

The list was getting longer, you see. But as I added bullet points to that list, another list was forming: The "Reasons Maggie Will End Up Moving to Africa" list:

1. The economy tanked. Any job is a good job.
2. My English degree does allow me to teach in private schools. Talk about keeping options open.
3. 6-month and 9-month grace periods on federal student loans have this tendency to creep up on you.
4. As much as I love my parents and appreciate their hospitality, the whole being a jobless bum thing was really unflattering. It was the first time I'd been unemployed since the 8th grade, and I hated it. I wanted out.

I have a feeling God knew I would flake out on the living overseas thing. I spent 13 years second-guessing, doubting, questioning, evading, avoiding, ignoring, making excuses, and running in the opposite direction. I imagine God was shaking his head, because I played the part of Israel perfectly.

In Hosea 2, Israel was unfaithful to God like a wife returning to a life of prostitution. God's response?
6 Therefore I will block her path with thornbushes;
I will wall her in so that she cannot find her way
7 She will chase after her lovers but not catch them;
she will look for them but not find them.
Then she will say,
'I will go back to my husband as at first,
for then I was better off than now.'

I was so content in my mud that God had to frustrate me relationally, economically, professionally, physically, financially, and emotionally just to get my attention.

All the while, Africa waited.

God was blocking my path with thorns, backing me into a corner with job loss and breakups, making sure that when I tried to get out of my corner, the open path was Nigeria.

Honestly, I feel that all the events of the past 15 months of my life occurred if solely for the purpose of getting me to Africa, which is both terrifying and relieving. It's terrifying because that means that "such a time as this" is really important. It's relieving because for all my wandering and wrong turns, God still brought me to this place. I didn't screw it up. God is bigger than my ignorance.

For 13 years, Africa was not my desire, but it is now.

That's how I know I'm not in the mud anymore.

My Heart and the Life Verse Phenomenon

I don't remember exactly when, in my churched childhood, I first came across the idea of "The Life Verse." I must have been young, because I can't recall ever hearing the phrase and not immediately comprehending it.

In my opinion, The Life Verse exists at the place where the church meets consumerist culture. Which is not to say that the concept of The Life Verse is heretical or blasphemous. It's one way that we make Scripture pertain specifically to ourselves as individuals (i.e. "How can Scripture meet my needs?") and another way that Christians succeed in marketing religion back to ourselves. If that statement made you angry, I would be happy to forward you my senior-year thesis on the purchasing of Brand Jesus, which will help you understand where I'm coming from. You could also read Tyler Wigg Stevenson's book of the same name.

The timeline goes as follows: somewhere in my early childhood, I learned that I could claim a Scripture verse to be the theme of my as-yet-unlived life. I could claim it and it could be a guidepost, a veritable memorial stone--just like in Joshua 4--representing the times when God showed up: a testament to enduring faithfulness. Some time after this, I came to see Psalm 37:4 as my Life Verse:

"Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart."

Fast-forward ten years. In the fall of my senior year, during a quarter-life crisis (in which the soon-to-be college graduate freaks out about the impending doom of her aimless life), my very wise roommate Sarah shared with me that my life verse can be understood in two ways. Yes, she said, most people interpret it in the way I had, believing that delighting oneself in the Lord will result in assured happiness, indeed, in the things you most want in life: the deepest desires of your heart. But, she informed me, some read it this way: when you are so deep in the will of God, when His will is the only thing you care to pursue and when His face is the only thing filling your line of vision, you will find that the things your heart wants most are--in an ironic twist--the things HE most wants. Those, she said, are the desires of your heart when you delight yourself in Him: His desires.

Can I get an amen?

It took a few days to sink in, but I cannot be more convinced that this second, newer (new, at least, to me) interpretation is more accurate. The first seems too consumerist to be true: that God would give me what I want as long as I am delighting in Him (whatever that unidentified term delight means). It seems much more probable that in my love affair with a God who knows me better than I know myself, He would exchange what I think I want for what is actually better for me to have. We recognize this today as a mother's love.

This is how I picture it. I was sitting, happily mucking about, in puddle of mud, completely oblivious to my own filth. In comes Jesus Christ, who takes me by the hand and leads pulls yanks me out of the mud. I protest; I kick and I scream. "But I like it here," I say. "I want to stay; I want this - it's fun!"
As He washes the mud from body, he quiets me in a whisper: "My child, you don't know what you want. That is, what you say you want, you don't actually know it. It's mud. You're dirty. I want to give you what I want for you."
It's then that I realize the mud is washed away, pooled on the floor at my feet. I'm standing, shivering, wet, cold, and naked. I can see that the mud is dirty, filthy, wretched and has been drowning me in its filth and making me dirty and wretched. And I want nothing more than to have what He wants to give me: a garment of praise and a crown of righteousness.

That's what Psalm 37:4 means to me. It means that all the things I want in this world, all the dreams I can dream up for myself, all the places I want to go, all the plans I make for my future- they are all mud. I think I know what it is I want, I think I understand what I'm asking for, but what He wants to give me is so. much. better. than what I desire. And as I busy myself in my mud, perfectly content with the nearsighted visions that placate me, Psalm 37:4 reminds me that when I delight myself in Him, the things I want fall away and are replaced by the grandiose treasures He desires on my behalf.

Please understand that this new reading of my so-called Life Verse does not, in fact, make my life easier. It's more complicated now. It involves deep internal questions: These things I want, are they what He wants? This situation I'm sitting in, is it mud? That goal I've set, is it too narrow in scope?

In the midst of my questions, though, comes the reassurance that as long as I'm delighting myself in Him--seeking His will instead of living for myself--my desires will align with His until mine don't even exist anymore.

That is worth climbing out of the mud for.

You NEED to read this

This is the most inspirational blog young woman I've ever read about:

KissesFromKatie.blogspot.com

She makes me feel surprised, convicted, inspired, and ultimately, she makes me want to do MORE. More than I'm already doing in my marble-floored, granite-countertopped, air-conditioned apartment in the (arguably) wealthiest city in Nigeria.

Oh, God, that I would endeavor to center myself in the middle of your plan for my life, following Katie's example.

Green Oranges and Other Confessions

I have a couple confessions to make:

1. I didn't write this update over the weekend because I procrastinated too long on my lesson plans and correcting. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

2. My oranges here are green. No, for real. That's not an oversized lime, that's an orange, and it legitimately disturbs me. Oranges are called oranges because they're orange. Come on Nigeria; get with the program.

3. Sometimes I strip God of His omnipotence. Hello, subject change. Yesterday in church, we talked about Psalm 30. The psalmist praises God for delivering him from trouble. The credit for the deliverance is given to God. God is given praise for being, well, God.

And yet, how many times do I say or do things that strip God of the praise He deserves?

Exhibit A: I mentioned that I had a conversation last week with a new neighbor. Part of our exchange went like this:
L: I feel so bad that you have to live with old ladies and go to church all the time.
Me: I don't mind. Really, I don't.
L: Well, do you drink?
Me: Occasionally. Why?
L: Oh, good. Just making sure you're not one of those people who lived in the substance-free dorm at your college.
[Pause here to appreciate the irony.]
Me: Actually, my whole college was substance-free. It's a Christian school.
L: Oh. I knew some crazy girls like that. They were all anti-drinking and 'saving themselves for marriage' or something like that.
[Spoiler Alert: I'm about to deny God.]
Me: Oh. Well, I'm not crazy. I do drink and stuff. It's hard to associate yourself with a particular group of people like evangelical Christians because I'm not, like, extreme like everyone else.

WHAT?! DID YOU JUST HEAR ME?!

Why didn't I take the opportunity to tell him about the incredible, life-changing redemption I have received from Jehovah Mephalti, the Lord my Deliverer? (yep, I Googled it.) Why did I show no hesitation in severing myself from the community of saints I would otherwise call the Body of Christ, the Church? Why did I back down?

My rationale at the time was, Oh I don't want to scare him off. This could turn into a great example of "Relational Christianity."

Ooh, that R. C. gets me every time. I can justify just about any action (or inaction) with Relational Christianity (i.e. I don't want to ram my religion down people's throats; I want to develop a relationship with them so they can see there's something different about me.).
It's a benign concept enough, but I struggle with elevating it above Jesus in importance. Legitimately. Sometimes I take my eyes off Jesus and focus on being relevant and culturally palatable and relational instead of on the one I call Savior.

But that's not the kind of life Jesus called me to live. He's called me to live a life apart: a crazy, radical, that's-not-how-the-rest-of-the-world-works kind of life that points people to Jesus.

And honestly, you guys, it's a struggle for me to keep my finger off Backspace right now, because I'm human, I mess up, I make a mockery of that purpose, and I don't live like I believe any of that stuff I just typed. If you've known me for more than 5 minutes, you know that when I screw up, I go all out. And the last thing Christianity needs is another hypocrite. For all my failings, though, I am never outside the grace of God, and neither are you.

So for all the times I've missed the opportunity, for all the "L conversations" I've had, let me just say this:

I believe it. It's some pretty messed up stuff like human sacrifice and eternity and a God I can't even see, but I believe it. All of it. I believe that if I was the only human left on earth, God still would have loved me enough to send His Son to be the redemption for all my mistakes. I believe that this truth should permeate every level of my existence and that it should grieve me when it does not. I believe that there is a world beyond this one, and when I come to the end of my life, I will be spared an eternity apart from God because of a sacrifice that has already been made, a debt that has already been paid. (Hey, that rhymed.) (English teacher, remember?)

And frankly, my friends, that is why I'm in Nigeria. Because I also believe that God created me, is mindful of me, and cares about what I do with my life. I believe that my purpose is to bring God glory in everything I say and do. Being here is an act of obedience to a God who is bigger than I can imagine and who loves ME, even when I strip him of all his omnipotence.

So actually, yes, I am crazy.

P.S. I tried really hard to leave all the "Christianese" out of this post, but it's hard to undo 22 years of a specific learned vocabulary. If words like sacrifice, debt, deliverance, eternity and omnipotence are confusing to you, give me a chance to tell you what I mean.

Continuing Down the Road

As we are rapidly approaching August 21st, I wanted to detail the work that goes into preparing for a trip of this magnitude. If you've spent any time overseas, this process is quite familiar to you, I'm sure, but since I'm a first-timer, the whole ordeal is so overwhelming my head hurts sometimes.

And because I'm just that OCD, I'll break it down for you categorically.

Physically, I've already seen 2 doctors and will have my formal physical tomorrow with doctor number 3. (Make it 4 if you count the travel clinic where I got my yellow fever vaccine.) I'm taking sterile medical supplies, a whole host of natural supplements, and dozens of medications (No, literally, dozens. I wrote out my list for Customs tonight: 3 pages.)

Legally, of course, I've obtained a passport and am still in the process of obtaining my visa. My application should be walked through the Nigerian embassy tomorrow (Thursday) and prayers for unhindered processing and swift approval are greatly appreciated. The reality of this trip still hinges on the approval of the visa.

Mentally, I divide my time between intense concentration on Nigeria and pathetic distraction to keep myself from dwelling on it too deeply. It's an overwhelming feeling: trying to conceive what my life will look like in just a few weeks. A friend from church shared a similar bit of wisdom with me: part of the concern is that you just can't imagine how life will be different once you have made your new home in a foreign land. It is impossible to be completely prepared for what lays ahead.

Financially, I have sacrificed almost my entire personal savings to be ready for this trip. A new wardrobe, food supplies, camping gear, and updated technology are just some of the items I've purchased since starting out down this path. Allow me to clarify that without the financial support of my parents and grandparents, I would be headed to Africa absolutely and devastatingly ill-equipped. My grandparents are giving me the ability to communicate with friends and family back home; I can't attach a value to that gift--it is too great. My other grandparents are relieving me of a huge stressor by storing my car (free of charge) with the meticulous, loving care that defines my grandfather. My parents have sacrificed so much for me to be prepared for whatever lies ahead. When school starts in 3 weeks, I will look the part of a teacher because they've clothed me. I will eat things that remind me of home because they bought food. And I will wake up on time because my alarm clock runs on rechargeable batteries that my brother Jake provided! Moving to Africa is truly a team effort!

Emotionally, I try not to dwell on the loss that awaits me. I acknowledge all the things I will miss while I am away: birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, my little nephew beginning to walk and talk, Jake's first year at Wheaton, and my college roommate's wedding next June. Nothing will prepare me for the crippling separation of my family, and if I can admit that now, I hope to accept it when it happens, even if it catches me off guard.

Spiritually, I am amazed at the presence and provision of Jesus Christ in every turn of this entire process. The timing of this opportunity was orchestrated perfectly, and I continue to trust that as I take steps of obedience, the Lord will align the desires of my heart with His own. I have been equipped for such a time as this, and want only to be used of God in situations I cannot even anticipate. I've also been overwhelmed by the spiritual support of friends and family, and not one but two church families! Prayers for safety, prayers for blessing, prayers for health and wellness have all been prayed over me and for me and I cannot contribute the peace I feel to anything less than these prayers and the saints that pray them.

I speak in faith when I say that my next update will include a positive response from the Nigerian embassy regarding my visa!

Setbacks and Blessings

Choosing obedience is never the easy path. I knew my West Africa adventure had more to do with being obedient rather than a job opportunity, but I'm feeling the pinch and discomfort of that decision this week.

Apparently, preparing to relocate to a new country is an expensive process. I'll be very honest and say that my credit card bill this month is the largest I have ever seen. Between doctor's appointments, supplies, passport fees, and vaccinations, my personal savings is all but gone. I didn't stress about it, however, because these expenses are all necessary, and I trust the Lord to provide for me. But sometimes it's hard to see, even with the help of the Almighty, how I'm going to dig myself out of this one.

I still can't move forward with my visa without some key documents from the school's superintendent. Unfortunately, their email servers have been down for almost 2 weeks. [Normally, I would post the link to the school here, but, alas, the website's down, too.] The visa is absolutely essential, so I stayed up Sunday night to call the school. I called at 2:30am, 3:30, 4:30 and 9, and the line was unavailable every time.

Routine setbacks spark doubt. Yesterday was a doubt-filled day. I wondered if I could make it to Nigeria on time. I questioned the legitimacy of the entire offer. I wondered if the money I've spent will even be worth it. Combine these doubts with the ever-present questions I have about moving to a new country and beginning an entirely new profession, and I was pretty depressed last night.

But my God is a God who provides.

Right before I went to bed, I opened my mail. There was a royalty check from Disney, for satellite TV and Pay-Per-View airings of The Parent Trap. The amount was almost exactly the amount of my credit card bill--in fact, it was a shocking $30 more. The Lord orchestrated that film opportunity for me as a 10-year-old and it was beyond my understanding then. Almost 12 years later, He's still using it to bless me. It's funny to me that I am continually surprised by God's provision. I should be used to it by now.

Lesson for the week: Obedience allows God to bless us.