Photo by Alex Block
I've been encouraged by the story of Joseph recently. What must it have felt like to have to carry a dream for so long and see not only no fruition but also seemingly little forward motion toward that dream? We don't feel the anxiety of it when we read it because the beginning and the ending of the story is all right there at our fingertips. We might have to hold our breath for a page turn, but that's about it. It's possible that when he reached Potiphar's house he started to feel like, "OK, finally, this is my ticket to being someone worthy of having his siblings bow to him. I'm finally getting somewhere." Then the rug is ripped out from under him in the worst way possible when he's not even guilty. We don't get to see the inner workings of Joseph's thoughts during all of these plot twists. We're only presented a very saintly, good guy Joe--always doing the right thing, always impressing everyone, always maintaining a close enough relationship to God to hear Him. As a fellow human, I wish I could get a glimpse into his inner struggles. I find it hard to believe that he never would have had a moment of, "Hey, God, did I just eat some bad lamb that day I had that dream? That's not really a thing that's going to happen at this point, right?" Or "Um, God, I know You do what you want, but this whole prison thing is pretty unfair. I mean, you really blessed my grandfather with a lot of wealth, and my dad has a whole lot of success. So, uh, are You mad at me or something?" And those examples are tame, apt for the saintly, seemingly unfeeling Joseph we're introduced to. (He seems to develop much more emotions whenever he's in charge and meets his brothers. I'd say, obviously, this isn't really a reflection on Joseph but on the writer.) Given the nature of the culture of Joseph's lineage, it also doesn't make sense to think that Joseph is the kind of guy with no foresight who just lets life happen to him. If he were such a fatalist, I don't think he'd put forth so much effort as to always end up in charge everywhere he goes. No, he grew up in a tradition of birthrights and family blessings and the stories of his grandfather, Abraham, actually receiving promises from God. So, my point in all of this is that Joseph had to walk many years of his life in the tension of choosing to hold onto a dream from God while walking through frustrating, seemingly futile circumstances.
I think if there were to be some kind of a job application for being a missionary, this should be some kind of prerequisite or disclaimer: Are you willing and prepared to give years of your life, your sweat, your tears, and all of your resources with no guarantee of any outward results or making any outward headway? Are you thoroughly prepared to live and serve with no guarantee that life will be fair? Actually, if we're getting down to the nitty-gritty of it, this could and probably should apply to any Christian. I'm not talking about personal growth. I'm talking about dealing with other humans. I'm talking about those forces beyond our grasp. We have no control over what other people do with their lives no matter how we long and and fight for them to see their potential. We have no control over when someone decides to cheat us or falsely accuse us or gossip about us. We have no control over when a government decides to take our foster child from us or when a young person we've helped decides to steal from us. We cannot force our loved ones to stop doing drugs or obligate our neighbors to respect us. We can't control the outcome of an election or prevent a diagnosis from reaching a loved one's ears. But, the one thing I'm learning in the loudest way from Joseph is that he never stopped being himself. As a shepherd and son, he was faithful and obedient. As a slave to Potiphar, he was reliable and hard-working, honest and upright. In prison, he was trustworthy and a serving leader. As a counselor to Pharoah, he was humble but spoke the truth. And, when he reached a position of power, he was all of the things he'd always been--just with more power and wealth at his disposal. And that is when his dream was fulfilled. The key to seeing God do what God already told him He was going to do wasn't about striving or fighting his circumstances. It wasn't about earning God's love. Even the effort he tried to make of telling Pharoah's servants to remember him didn't pan out near as well as it probably should've, because, well, humans. Out of sight, out of mind. No, Joseph reached the promise by slow and steady, humble and serving, never losing sight of who he was or who God is.
If January sparkled with energy and new possibilities, February, so far, is dulling the sheen with the wear of reality. Part of this, if I'm honest, is because I have a trip to the US on the horizon and because I'm feeling that edge I get when I need a solid break to get some fresh perspective. The other part is that I'm in a sitting season. I'm not literally sitting as in doing nothing. Most of my time actually is filled. But, I am in a season where I'm still seeking divine strategies. And, maybe at the heart of it all, God is once again refining my definition of ministry. If I'm candid, I currently am asking God the question, "What do I do when it seems like no one is interested?"
A lot of times, the viewpoint for those sending is that the biggest need for the mission field is resources. If the people just had a job and a steady income, they’d be fine financially. If they just had an education, they’d be able to advance in life. If they just had a church, they’d surely follow God. If they just had a healthy family, they’d stop acting like street children. I’ve learned over the years that while that is a hopeful mindset, it doesn’t provide for the complexities we humans bring to the table or the deep need we have for God that we don't even understand. Just to give you some ideas—we’ve seen people be given jobs and act entitled in their workplace and frivolous in their administration, thus keeping their finances in the same situation. We’ve given people scholarships for an education, and they take the opportunity for granted. Then they get angry when we choose not to sponsor them again. And, we’ve provided a sense of family but as soon as we’ve put any sort of limits in place, sometimes kids decide that family has to let them do whatever they want with no consequences. It is easy to convince yourself that healthy family has to look however is convenient for your whims when you've never had a healthy family. You can define family however you want to fit your desires. All of this isn’t a Honduran problem—it’s a human problem.
The desire of my heart is to see people encounter Jesus, grow in all aspects of life, and reach their full potential as God created it. But, a lot of people aren’t actually interested in any of that. As a missionary, I can hand out money and resources and feel busy, like I am doing something. I could also emotionally coerce others to behave a certain way. Some people will be at church every time the doors are open because they’re afraid of people gossiping about them or because they’re afraid the pastor will be mad at them. But, the root of that decision is fear of man, so if anything, I fight for everyone to feel free in making their own decisions when it comes to our ministry. Poverty does look like something outwardly, but it’s also a mentality that invades all of our behaviors. True growth has to start with real relationship with God and others—a choice to trust, not fear. Change has to start at the root in someone’s heart and is often elusive when the person can seek out any kind of rescue without any nudging towards personal responsibility. How many people did Jesus heal who really only wanted their healing for that day, with no interest in their eternity? How many people of the 5,000 ate that miraculous meal and weren't interested in the Bread of Heaven? How does it look for me as a missionary to continue to lovingly pursue people with the hope of the Gospel without slipping into enabling and even becoming a stumbling block to truly seeking God? How can I practically walk the tightrope of genuinely caring about people's needs and also calling them toward personal responsibility? How do I lead others to Jesus and not to myself? These are the kinds of questions that Raúl and I have to ask ourselves all the time. We may not consciously ask them on a daily basis, but on a daily basis, we are navigating the answers to those questions without having the answers just because we're thrust into circumstances that require a response.
All in all, the only real answer I have for myself is to be like Joseph--keeping my eyes on Jesus and being my true self. February hasn't looked much different than January--I'm still teaching classes and writing, our students are still studying, we're still having small group, and needs are constantly presenting themselves. But, in the secret place of my heart, there is no movement. There is no doing. There is no striving or convincing myself that I have the answers. I am just on my face before Him, still. I surrender. I don't have the answers. I can't make anyone grow. I am here, and I'm going to walk with You, and I'm going to lean into Your presence as I continue to just be myself, limitations and all. It is a sweet place to be even if the dream is never fulfilled.
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In the mean time, your prayers are so invaluable. I have felt so incredibly blessed in my life with people who invest in me as a person even more so than they invest in what I do. There is a kiss of freedom to knowing that you're valued for who you are and not for your striving. And though we will do what God asks of us, we feel so loved and fortified by those of you who only ask that we keep close to our Father and His will. It is a delight to seek to always be good stewards of your prayers, your donations, your belief in us, and of the selves that God made us to be.
