Learning to be Healed

     I went to Uganda this summer. I also worked as an intern for the greatest youth summer conference ever, Reformed Youth Ministries. Then to top it all off, I went to Mexico for a week. So, needless to say I was feeling pretty good about myself when I got back to Athens about 3 weeks ago; I was just about as holy as any college person could get. I mean come on, I spent my entire summer "in service to others." I gave up a lot of things that I had no intention of giving up! And I submitted to authority on so many levels! I grew and I learned and I gained experience, and I knew it. I felt like a servant, finally, and I'm sure other people saw me that way as well.

      But the truth is, I'm probably the only one thinking that about myself right now. I don't know if my family could realistically say, "Joel served us this summer more than he served himself. The times he was here were spent putting us first and counting us more significant than himself." I know for a fact my friends wouldn't say that! I don't think that the Ugandans that I encountered are over there right now thinking, "We could not have gotten through this summer without the service that Joel performed for us."  I know for sure that any other 20 year old guy who enjoys dancing and pumping up high schoolers could have been just as effective as I was at RYM. And any hard worker could've -and did- bust up just as much concrete as me in Mexico.

      So I guess what I'm saying is, I'm not irreplaceable. I'm not special. I'm not superior to anyone, more influential than every other believer, wiser than every other college student, or more experienced than every other short-term missionary.  And I don't know if I realized that until the end of this summer when a brick wall of humility collapsed on top of me. Let me tell you a portion of what, and how, I learned this summer.

God meets us where we are.

    

First of all let me tell you details about what I actually DID this summer. I kicked it off with Uganda. I'll say here what I've told everyone: 

"Overall it was an incredible trip. There were definitely challenging moments, and the culture was a lot different, but it gave me a lot of hope for what has been done there and what can be done there in the future. It was great to experience that third-world aspect and be a part of something bigger for even such a short amount of time as 3 weeks."

      Now this is all true. But keeping in step with the idea of meeting people where they were, let me tell you how these things apply. In order to minister to these villagers in Uganda I had to actually go there and do it. I could not wait for them to meet me at the airport or meet me halfway in Amsterdam. I had to fly to Entebbe, Uganda and ride 7 hours north until we eventually hit a bumpy dirt road and couldn't see power lines anymore. We set up big tents with cots and ate mangos, rice, beans, and cabbage for 3 weeks in the middle of this village. In order to encounter the people we encountered, we had to go to them. We couldn't wait for them to come to us, because they never would have been able to!

      Then I came back from Uganda and 3 days later I drove 6 hours down to Panama City Beach. With every youth group that came to this conference I asked their leaders and students, "Where are you from, have you been here before, what church are you with, how many students did you bring, are you doing MegaRec and sports, how was the drive down here?" Obviously this is a completely different set of issues. New small-talk. New atmosphere. New understanding of how relationships worked compared to things in Uganda. And I thought I was doing a pretty good job at relating to these leaders and students. I thought I did a pretty good job at meeting people and asking what was going on with them and how I could serve them. I met people where they were!

      Then 4 days after RYM I headed down to Mexico. That was another way that I literally met people where they were...which was in a children's home. Now that fact in itself already had me feeling pretty good about myself. Then when we got there I just got even more self righteous. I hung out with those kids. I let them play with my hair. I threw them up in the air and tried to speak Spanish to them. When we went to the beach I let five kids at once hang on my neck, shoulders, and arms in the salty, raging ocean. In the mornings I did some serious demolition, knocking out these huge concrete slabs to level the ground where they wanted to start building a new boy's dormitory. Then every afternoon I played guitar at our very own version of VBS and sang with them...in Spanish. Once again, I was doing a great job at meeting people where they were.

      And I'll tell you what; all this meeting people where they were stuff was making me feel a lot like Jesus. Because I knew that Jesus met all helpless people where they were! So I was being the help to all the helpless now. Jesus went to the places that no one else wanted to in order to find the broken people, and I was pretty sure that's what I was doing.

If only I realized how blind I was!

      Brent Harriman, one of the RUF Area Coordinators, was the fantastic speaker at RYM Senior High Florida Week One. All of his sermons were about how Jesus met people where they were, the last one being about ourselves. Now I must have heard the first 3 where he talked about Saul soon to be Paul on the road to Damascus, the woman at the well, and the crippled man at the healing pool. However, apparently I let myself graze over the last sermon he gave. Because that wasn't the one I wanted to hear.

      And that seemed to be one of the main themes of my summer, unfortunately.

By this point I was sure I had it all figured out. I thought that I was supposed to meet people where they were, and not even consider the fact that Jesus was and is meeting me right where I am; in the middle of my extremely broken, pride-ridden, sin-consuming, self-sufficient lifestyle that I played off as a life of servitude by taking hard trips and great internships. I didn't even entertain the idea that I was the self righteous person that Christ was meeting on my own road to Damascus; or that I was repeatedly going back to this well to get water, only to need more in a couple of hours because it would never satisfy. I didn't think that I needed the kind of healing that Jesus gives. As Brent said,

"It's not that we don't want to be healed. It's that we don't want God to heal us."

      Because many times, ironically enough, being healed hurts. Maybe not physically. But emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Being healed by Christ is a direct attack of our pride because what Christ does is make a declaration without giving us any say in the matter. He makes an indicative, then an imperative.

"You are well. Now sin no more!"

And that just doesn't sound like the kind of control that I always want to have.

     

     Tullian Tchividjian, in his book Jesus + Nothing = Everything is so adamant about reminding us that our salvation does not come from anything that we do, but in what Christ has already done on our behalf. He pounds this into your brain in 50 different ways, repeating all 50 statements at least 5 times each. But I am glad he does because that is exactly what I needed to realize all summer. I was so busy trying to live out a truth that I barely even understood myself. I needed to realize that ultimately nothing that I thought mattered really matters in comparison to knowing Christ. "Whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of knowing Christ." (Philippians 3:7) Jesus is worth everything, and He has done everything, so now I can give up everything, "...in order that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ."  (v. 8-9) Throughout this whole summer, what I needed to realize was that He was meeting me in my brokenness. And He will continue to do so. He is faithful. "I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ." (Philippians 1:6)

      Now with this new knowledge I am free to be fearless. I don't have to worry about losing certain things. I don't have to worry about the way people look at me. I don't have to worry about not having friends. I don't have to worry about not being the best musician in the world. I don't have to worry about not being the best worker. I don't have to worry about not being the smartest in my class. I don't have to worry about being perfect. Again, as Tullian explains it,

"Because Jesus was strong for me, I am free to be weak.

Because Jesus won for me, I am free to lose.

Because Jesus was someone, I am free to be no one.

Because Jesus was extraordinary, I am free to be ordinary.

Because Jesus succeeded for me, I am free to fail."

And there is no fear in that, there is freedom!

      With this new knowledge I can give up control of the aspects of my life that I was clinging to with all my might. I can trust in His sovereignty. I can be patient. I can be bold. I can be honest. I can be broken. 

So every time I inevitably try and take control of my life again, I won't be afraid to say,

“Here, God, You take it! I don't want to try and be in control of this anymore. I give up. Have it all. Bind my wounds, and pick me up from this sick-bed that I've been laying in.” And just like I've experienced this summer the Lord will continuously say to me, “Don't you see I've already done it? You just lost sight of it because you were trying to be your own god. You haven't been listening for My voice, you haven't been searching for My face, you haven't been longing for the daily renewal that comes from being washed with My blood. But the good news is, I'm always here anyways. I chose you in the beginning, I am calling you now, and I will bring you home when the time comes. And all of this is because I love you; because I love you; because I love you; because I love you.”