As I was listening to a speaker talk about how difficult it is for us to cross over cultural barriers between the world of affluence and the world of poverty these words came to me.
My life is white.
My world is bright.
My days are long.
I no longer have a place to belong.
My culutre is blind.
We wine and we dine.
Really we're dying,
but so far denying.
How will God speak?
Will He let us go on being so weak?
I don't think so.
Now I want to know so.
These thoughts are primitive at best in their demonstration of any skill. But they do reveal the reality I'm facing. I no longer completely identify with the place I come from and still remain in. And yet I do not belong in the world of poverty that I have been introduced to.
My innate sense of drive wants to be impatient with people and start a revolution. And then I feel deep frustration over knowing that in part that response comes from my culture and has nothing but disaster written all over it.
God has had to work very dilligently on my soul to get me to a place where I can even embrace these experiences and thoughts. What will it take to bring me to a place of responding with the mind of Christ rather then the mind of my culture? I really can't allow myself to think about that question for very long. One day at a time is all the Lord is asking of me.
The very best part is that I am also experiencing an inviting sense of hope. I believe and have experienced that the impossible is possible with God.
Dear Lord,
For those of us who have to much, don't want to rely on it but do, please reveal the real condition of our hearts. Help me to trust you for healing. Help me to trust that you are at work. Help me to hold your hand and walk side by side with you. Help me to pray according to your will and not my own. Teach me to be submitted to you above all else. Please don't give up on me. May there be days when the pruning produces a harvest of righteousness for your Name which is above all names.
Amen
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