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26 July 2009

I Know You Never Said It Would Be Easy...but


I cried this evening. I tried not to, I really did, but alas my emotions, having overflowed the spot deep inside where I traditionally ignore them, came tumbling down my cheeks in the form of warm tears. Truth is I'm a sensitive guy. While at some point I fantasize about being Clint Eastwood, meeting out justice in a cold-masculine way, in reality I'm more Elmer Fudd-like crying over that Daffy Duck I thought I wanted to shoot.

I'm a momma's boy. I love people. I love to help, and often I try to be a part of the solution to people's problems. I'm usually the first to volunteer, and I love to lead. I enjoy making tough decisions, and working on complex issues. I love figuring out the puzzling issues that sometimes pop up. I like to be out front. But sometimes being out front has consequences.

When you're out front your exposed. Like the first guy down the ramp onto Omaha Beach, you don't have something to duck behind. Everyone sees you, and whatever comes your way, you feel it. There's no place to hide at the front. So it is in ministry sometimes.

I came to Hungary to make a difference. So far I think I have in a small way. But I think that what I'm discovering is that when you place yourself in the center of pain, while you lie amidst the suffering of many, you feel it too. I'm not immune to it. I feel it physically gnawing at my insides as if trying to get out.

I may have always said it, but now I know that humans are messy creatures. While we might delude ourselves into believing that we somehow we have things tidied up, in the recesses of our hearts and minds, we find baggage and pain that we haul around. Sometimes are messiness cannot be contained.

English camp just ended and I was amazed at the many stories I heard that boggled the mind. I mean, I knew that these types of issues existed, but not in anyone I know, or thought I knew. One after another many of our students revealed their messiness, they allowed us to peer into the recesses of their hearts and see the scars, the hurts, and tears. Like sitting in the front row of a Gallagher concert, I walked away with emotional watermelon all over me.

I tried to pour some of myself into them, and in a small way, I felt some of their pain pour into me. When you reach out, it's inevitable that when you touch someone, they are indeed touching you. I found a new level of appreciation for Christ, who while expressing the greatest act of love ever recorded took upon himself the weight of the world. I struggled under the weight of the few people I've met.

I didn't take long to be disappointed. I didn't take long to be saddened, and I've discovered that it hasn't taken long to be brought to the point of tears. There's honestly a part of me that wishes that I could disconnect. There is a part inside that wonders how nice it would be to be able to walk away from such situations with a casual stride and leave it behind. How nice it would be to not deal with the sleeplessness, or the gut wrenching conversations. I only let these thoughts linger for a moment.

Truth is, I am exaclty how God made me. At some point God worked all of my innermost parts together and with great purpose put together my heart. Sometimes I can't solve problems, but I can make a difference precisely because I do care, and hopefully they know it. Though it hurts to stand by and watch people make mistakes, my compassion for them drives me to be there to try and pick them up, to try and wipe the tears. I just wish it didn't hurt so much.

I hope, dear reader, that you can appreciate my honesty. I would love to write of only the good things, filling page after page with happy glorious moments of triumph, but alas that world won't exist until the trumpet sounds. My hope is to share with you the true story of a young missionary couple called from a life in the suburbs of Indiana to stand in the gap in Hungary.

Throughout English camp we poured ourselves out onto and into people. In return we felt their stories and walked away carrying some of their struggles. I invite you to continue this journey with us through spirit and prayer. But I must also add this warning, you might just walk away with some emotional melon in your hair. You might just find that at the end of the day you feel it too. You may just find moments where your driven to your knees and crying out for God to move. I profoundly hope that you do.

Living in Front,
Jonathan and Corinne