Leaving the Blue Jeans Behind
Life in these blue jeans has ceased to exist. We don't even all have a pair of blue jeans here with us in West Africa. Maybe I could say we're now living life in these blue jean skirts, but at the risk of looking too much like a homeschool family (even though we are), I didn't even bother to bring any denim with me. Which is probably a good thing, considering how humid it is here. The rain is refreshing and beautiful, it cools the air and gives life to the country, but it refuses to let my clothes dry. Once you hang your laundry out on the line, you have just a very small window of time for those clothes to actually get dry. If you miss that window, they become infused with a musty, moldy, icky-ness that is worse than the way they smelled before being washed--which means you have to start the process all over again. All of that to say, I don't think denim anything would suit me very well at this point. At least not until I have a washing machine.
I'm finding that life here is full of contrasts. Large, beautifully tiled houses sitting grandly in courtyards filled with tropical plants and trees, not far from small, muddy side roads bustling with the overflow of crowded houses squeezed in here and there. Tiny "boutiques" on the side of the road built with sticks and tin, no bigger than a phone booth, selling internet connections and cell phone minutes for a modern world. Thundering torrents of rain pounding on the roof, yet not enough water inside the house for the family to use. A church structure made of poles, tarps and a rough, uneven concrete floor welcoming a crowd of Christians in flawless Sunday attire. Bright, clay-colored tiles glistening in the sun against a deep, gray sky preparing to send a storm. A family well-accustomed to running a home and functioning in society just a few weeks ago, plopped down in the midst of a city, now knowing less about life here than all but the youngest of the local children.
The fair-minded side of me wants to reconcile these differences, and make everything fit nicely into its proper box and space in life so that I know what to do with it all. Let's not mix and match. (One of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn't belong...Sesame Street, anyone?) But it's in those contrasts that we see life as it really is, and not as we think it should be. The gray, threatening sky would be dull without the highlights from the bright red roof. The hand-made, fashionable Sunday outfits would be far less stunning in a luxurious marble hall. And we won't be able to see how far we've come later on, if we didn't take the time to see how much we have to learn.
But more than anything else, God's perfect love for sinners like you and me is by far the greatest contrast of all.
I'm finding that life here is full of contrasts. Large, beautifully tiled houses sitting grandly in courtyards filled with tropical plants and trees, not far from small, muddy side roads bustling with the overflow of crowded houses squeezed in here and there. Tiny "boutiques" on the side of the road built with sticks and tin, no bigger than a phone booth, selling internet connections and cell phone minutes for a modern world. Thundering torrents of rain pounding on the roof, yet not enough water inside the house for the family to use. A church structure made of poles, tarps and a rough, uneven concrete floor welcoming a crowd of Christians in flawless Sunday attire. Bright, clay-colored tiles glistening in the sun against a deep, gray sky preparing to send a storm. A family well-accustomed to running a home and functioning in society just a few weeks ago, plopped down in the midst of a city, now knowing less about life here than all but the youngest of the local children.
The fair-minded side of me wants to reconcile these differences, and make everything fit nicely into its proper box and space in life so that I know what to do with it all. Let's not mix and match. (One of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn't belong...Sesame Street, anyone?) But it's in those contrasts that we see life as it really is, and not as we think it should be. The gray, threatening sky would be dull without the highlights from the bright red roof. The hand-made, fashionable Sunday outfits would be far less stunning in a luxurious marble hall. And we won't be able to see how far we've come later on, if we didn't take the time to see how much we have to learn.
But more than anything else, God's perfect love for sinners like you and me is by far the greatest contrast of all.
There's a wideness in God's mercy
I cannot find in my own
And He keeps His fire burning
To melt this heart of stone
Keeps me aching with a yearning
Keeps me glad to have been caught
In the reckless raging fury That they call the love of God.
--Rich Mullins
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