Just crazy ...

Today’s devotional thought was written by Angela some time back, and now seems an appropriate time to send it to you:

“For since, in the wisdom of God, the world through wisdom did not know God, it pleased God through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe.” I Cor. 1: 21

Being a houseparent at Westview Boys’ Home can be quite an interesting conversational piece. It begins with a statement of where I work and then it is followed with a brief description of what that entails. That is usually followed by a compliment of how we must be “special people” to do what we do, to which I sarcastically reply “Or just crazy”. Most usually agree with me on that.

What is it that is so crazy about our job? Is it the overwhelming schedule? Is it the boy’s “bad attitude” that is sure to come with the difficult transition? Is it his failing grades that seem to be a constant battle? Is it his hostile looks and his hateful words that are directed to everyone in his life that has failed him, but that seem meant only for you? Is it the dark shadows in his past that rob him of peace and manifest as anger toward everyone, namely himself? Is it the challenge, the joy, and the heartache of standing by as God repairs his crushed spirit and broken soul?

Or is the crazy part the knowing that with each interaction, each conflict, each hug, each tear, each mistake, each dream expressed, each hello, and each good-bye, our own hearts will be crushed and, at moments, our spirits will be broken seemingly beyond repair. But yet we find ourselves wanting to be nowhere else except “stuck” here in this glorious quicksand of God-like love. Love that helplessly draws us to these lost boys and, in spite of our fear that we could very possibly be crazy, we dare not let go. Even if at the end of the day, our only reason to hang on is because the message of Christ compels us to.

I said goodbye to a boy today. A precious boy. A boy that has stolen a piece of my heart and I haven’t a clue how I will find the courage to give any more pieces away. And I am convinced that I must be crazy to throw my heart into this process of raising another woman’s son for a time only to have to inevitably say goodbye. But then I looked at his picture that I have hung on my “wall of success” in the living room and realized something. He is no longer a boy, but a young man, and I am humbled to be a part of that growth. And even more mind-blowing; he is no longer a boy, but a brother. He has left here sealed with the Spirit and redeemed by our Lord’s blood. I wasn’t always prudent. I wasn’t always fair. Not once was I perfect. But I loved him. I loved him because it pleased God to entrust him to me for a short, wonderful time. I loved him because that was the display of gratitude and honor that Christ demanded of me and that that beautiful boy deserved. And I can only pray that the love I dared to show him will continue to point him toward the heart of Christ and towards the goal to spend eternity with our Father.

Was I crazy to take this job? Since day one.

Was I crazy to love so fiercely only to hurt so deeply? Absolutely.

And I am now convinced that it will be worth it every time.

Blessings,

Angela

Rhythm of life ...

Why do we spend so much time in prayer, in devotion, in times of renewal? Consider these words from Christine Pohl:

Because hospitality is so demanding, we must find a renewing rhythm of work, rest, and worship. Without periods of rest and solitude, and without access to spiritual nourishment, we wear out quickly. It is easy to overlook prayer, study, and rest when the demands of hospitality are urgent and overwhelming. It is impossible, however, to sustain hospitality without attention to both the spiritual and physical needs of the practitioners.

Out of his years of experience in offering hospitality, Jean Vanier concludes, “It is easy to be generous for a few months or even years. But to be continually present to others, and not only present but nourishing, to keep going in a fidelity which is reborn each morning, demands a discipline of body and spirit.” Quoting a Franciscan prior who works among the urban poor, Vanier offers an important warning:

“If we do not care for our bodies, and if we do not find a rhythm of life we can sustain in the years to come,” he said, “it is not worth us being here. Our job is to stay. It is too easy to come and live among the poor for the experience, to exploit them for our own spiritual ends and then to leave. What we have to do is stay.”

A distinctive of Benedictine life is their vow of stability – a permanent commitment to a particular monastic community in a particular place. In accepting certain spatial and communal boundaries on their lives, they are able to establish a strong sense of place, which can welcome, anchor, and nourish both monks and guests. Settled boundaries and commitments can provide an environment of rest and freedom that enhances a capacity to offer hospitality.

Most communities and individual practitioners of hospitality have learned the hard way about the necessity of finding time and space for renewal. Communities of hospitality close down periodically to allow workers time to be refreshed. Every person needs some time during the week to get away from his or her regular activities. Persons and families need at least small amounts of personal space. These needs become intensified when people are offering hospitality to a steady flow of strangers who require significant attention and investment.

We nourish our lives with personal prayer and community worship. We are fed through reading and studying Scripture, and we are renewed through serious observance of Sabbaths. Meals, worship, and the [Lord’s Supper] combine together to nourish those who offer hospitality.

May God bless our day with time for these kinds of refreshing,

Ron