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This is the first of my posts taken from my journal as the NGL Interns traveled to Washington D.C. for a seminar on Mission and Justice, dealing with issues of Immigration. This post was from Monday evening. I will post others as time allows.
Monday:
At the holocaust museum, I was standing inside one of the traincars used to transport persons into the Nazi death camps. As I was standing there, I was overwhelmed by the thoughts of what had occurred in that space - final goodbyes, death, starvation, freezing, extreme heat, separation from loved ones, trampling, murder. All these things happened inside of train cars such as the very one in which I stood. And as I stood there, I could almost hear the voices, as if eavesdropping in on conversations. I could picture faces, pressed against one another - bodies crammed into the car like sardines. I stood and waited, with tears in my eyes, praying to God about what had occurred in that space. What would I do if I were standing there inside that train car? How hard would I have to fight to survive? Would my words be words of peace and grace, or words of anger? Would I be able to tell my loved ones that I loved them? My heart burst with questions, with empathy, and with sorrow. And it was just then, that God answered the thought crying out from the most inner part of my being - were You there God? Did the people inside this car pray to You? Did You hear their prayers? These were questions deeply imbedded into the heart of all the others I was asking - questions I fight with from time to time within my own journey. Are You really here God? Even in all this mess? In all my question asking inside that train car, I stood motionless, barely able to breathe, flooded with the questions, the hurt, the sorrow, the faces, the lives, the stories. It was all there. And it was then that a little boy approached me - he couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. I didn’t notice his approach, but he hugged me, and as I looked down, startled and roused out of my questions back into reality, I found this boy hugging me. We made eye contact and he said to me, “It’s okay. God was there.” Then as quickly as he’d come, he was gone, around the corner and out of sight, off into another part of the exhibit. I fought hard to keep the tears that had been filling my eyes from spilling over. I had just experienced God; a God with skin on - in the form of a little boy. I’m sure that he had no idea the impact of what he said to me. “It’s okay. God was there.” It wasn’t just a random statement. It was an answer to the cry of my heart. “It’s okay. God was there.” It wasn’t just about the train car, nor was it solely about the people that lived and died inside that car. It was about me. Living, breathing, and sometimes barely able to keep my head afloat me. “It’s okay. God was there.” I can scarcely attempt to comprehend the impact of that phrase. It speaks into the depths of my heart - to the places we often hide, where we often are the most broken and the most in need of help. Why is it that we hide from one another - even though we know others will help? Why is it that we hide from God? At least I did and still sometimes do. Adam and Eve hid from God in the Garden, and it’s a practice we still use today - albeit incredibly flawed and fruitless. Why is it that we can’t take our broken hearts, our shamed and guilty bodies to the Lord of all Creation? Why is it that we can’t take our dirty, sinful selves the to the very One who died to save us? What is it that we’re so afraid of? It’s a matter of trust. And it doesn’t come easily to me, or to many of us I suspect.
Also today, Tyler gave a woman sitting on her porch his mug from Wesley. She smiled and it was easy to tell that her day had been incredibly brightened by this simple, random act of kindness. What a witness to what we should strive to be.
My question at devotions tonight was both a question and a challenge: What can I do today to change the world right now? How can I make an impact right now, right where I am, with whatever I have? Why do we always think that changing the world has to happen down the road, when we have things all planned out? Why can’t it happen now? Why can’t it happen here? Why can’t it start with me? It can. I just have to be willing to seek out those opportunities. I have to be willing to get a little messy. To step outside my comfort zone and my safety net. I have to take the risk and just jump, knowing that I will be caught in the loving arms of my Savior. It’s about risk, it’s about love, it’s about trust. And most of all, it’s about changing the world in whatever way we can, right now, today. So… what are we waiting for?
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