Disappointment = His Appointment

"Allison! Alli-SON! AllIIIII!!!"

This is the chorus of children's voices I hear from my balcony in Sabana Perdida where I am writing this. The picture is one of the little neighbors that yells my name every morning as she passes my house on her little bike. In the photo she is dressed for a neighbor's birthday party, but she usually passes dressed only in her underwear and wild hair.

My neighbors here in Sabana Perdida seek each other out. We borrow blenders, pots, sugar, baking tins. Everything is shared in common. Baseball games are watched together. Meals are eaten together. We give each other "bolas" or rides in our vehicles--be they beat-up motorcycles or company cars-- on our way to work. The neighbor women and girls do each other's hair. We share computers, internet access, and electricity. We take water from each other's cistern if ours run dry. We share clothes lines. And if I am baking, it is very likely that I will not even taste the cake before it is passed out to everyone else. We share laughter. And we share frustration. I have gained their openness by being open.

That said, My neighbors are watching my reaction to the Haiti crisis. Most knew that I wanted to be part of the disaster relief team, and most know that in a split-second decision I was told to continue with Dominican work during the crisis. They know I was sad, and disappointed. Some were relieved I was not going to Haiti. "You could die there! Or get a terrible sickness!" But for those who wanted to go and were unable to because of logistics, poor health, or jobs, I have been able to share that the Lord's timing is not our timing, and that He asks us to be His "rescue workers" in the place where He has us.

With a group of youth in the Zona Oriental, I am going through the Youth Edition of Experiencing with God in Spanish. I could not have asked for a more perfect time for God to re-adjust my perspective. "God never asks us to join him on our initiative," the study says. God asks for a relationship with us, and through this relationship, shows us where He is already working. This leads to His invitation for us to join this work, and we are faced with a crisis of belief. Will I trust that this is REALLY where God is working? Will I take the steps to re-adjust my heart to join him THERE? What if THERE is the crazy neighbor involved in witchcraft? What if THERE is the boy who sits on his duff watching novelas(soap operas) all day? What if THERE is the depressed little girl across the street?

These options are not very heroic. Healing earthquake victims seems like where God would want me to be working right now. However, a conversation with my dad affirmed in me today that it is the little, insignificant things that change systems. If one couple is reconciled because of my involvement with their family today, that could change the future of their three children, who may impact nations. If one woman is healed from anxiety attacks today, tomorrow she can minister peace to the twenty children in her care. If one depressed boy finds hope in a friendship with me today, tomorrow he will not commit suicide, and instead, be a "rescue worker" for the Kingdom of God. A suicidal kid turned Spiritual Liberator. That is worth a life's investment in "the small things."

The Kingdom perspective of Liberation is so contrary to human reason, but this is what life is about. Let me share with you a reflection attributed to my personal hero, Oscar Romero, a Liberationist who died for the Truth during the war in El Salvador. I pray that it ministers to your spirit as it has ministered to mine.

"It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction
of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying
that the kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted,
knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation
in realizing that. This enables us to do something,
and to do it very well. It may be incomplete,
but it is a beginning, a step along the way,
an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference
between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.
Amen."

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