my ¨sandals¨are worn-out,and that big old piece of water (the Caribbean Sea), that´s keeping me from my destination still won´t get up out of my way.
But ja know what? Manna does fall, water does spring up and infirmities are overcome.
Part of me doesn´t want to recieve help, I want to work for what I get, I don´t want charity and I definitly don´t want to take from people who have less (which has often been the case on this trip). Is it a desire for uprightness or is it just pride? ¨We Cripps´don´t take welfare¨.
I have a great deal of respect now for my brother, he is a worker. When we were young he had a paper route and in highschool he worked for a freinds fathers renovation company. He worked and saved, setting his mind on the next goal- something worth while that he wanted to buy. I can remember just about every one of his purchases; a bike (that I actually ride today), roller blades, Star Trek merchandise. And he took such good care of his things; his bike always clean, his cards stacked and ordered, he would notice if I moved his firgures in the slightest way. Wow... I have a lot of respect for him.
I remember the day when I was given a compound bow with six graphite arrows. We had always been interested in that kind of stuff; Alex had made some decent bows, I have a lot of good memories of shooting arrows around in the back yard with him. I teased him about my new bow, along the lines of ¨Ha ha I gots one and you don´t.¨ The sharpest part of my taunt; ¨I never have to pay for anything.¨Did he ever get mad! What a jerk I was, but it was true. How true.
My life is all about grace. I was given everything. My dad has worked in a dark smoky factory since he was 19 so I could live the high life and have whatever future I desired. I never had to do a thing (I helped becuase it was fun). I was born privilidged. Why?
Now I come to the Third World on a trip which the people here could never dream of taking themselves, and again I recieve from them. This shouldn´t be comfortable, I shouldn´t be in the position of reciever here. I should be giving at least until we are on the same level. More.
People who eat rice and beans three times a day, every day, take me into their houses and treat me like a king. It´s not fair.
Without the God factor, it´s not fair.
The only difference is where I was born. My family and my country have nothing to do with my merit or worth. My life is all about grace, somehow I have to accept that. Soteriological lesson? I think so.
Part of me wants to work for everything I recieve. A big part, a good part. But if that´s the part I rely on, I am already decieved; can´t do it, it won´t cut it and I´ve already blown it.
Recently two different people whom I trust hear God have told me that I need to get ready to recieve wealth. !Ahhhh! Why? I´ve already got a ton, and honestly I don´t use it very well. I´m a little bit grudging. But my freinds were right on the mark when they heard that I wasn´t prepared to recieve wealth. I didn´t want it or expect it. Honestly, my heart is closer now to my teenage dream of living ascetically than it was before I knew Christ.
Recieving is tough. Asking is brutal. I have always been the kind of guy who would rather fumble in the dark or drive in circles for hours, than ask for help. Is that just pride? I want to say no. I just don´t want to burden anyone, ever. But, that being said, once I reach Peru, I´ll be running on fumes. That being said, I´ll be looking for grace.
