Intersections

I struggle with returning from Nicaragua to my day job.  Yes, even though in Nicaragua I didn't feel His Presence as much as I wanted, even though I didn't develop the relational depth I wanted with our hosts, even though I didn't see flashy regenerative miracles or hear the voice of the Father echo through the tiled floors of our hotel(s).  It didn't really matter, because there was something more there.

I struggle because in Nicaragua there was something beautiful: a communal singleness of mind.  We were focused on the Kingdom, and it changed everything.  Everything was deep, everything was significant.  Each morning we gathered to worship, expecting to be lead by the Spirit.  Which, I might say, takes a TON of stress off the worship leader.  Suddenly, you are not looked to for direction; everyone looks to the Spirit.  At most, I was the check to prevent the group from entering church-song-karaoke mode.

Example: one morning, four people woke up with the same song in their heads.  It's easy to lead worship when God is leading through the group.  If I didn't know the song, no worries.  We sang it anyway, and I hummed.  It was great.

Singlemindedness led to a two hour worship session on the side of the road after an overheated engine, a blown head gasket, and a flat (possible shot out) tire.  It led to the graceful reception of canceled reservations, to the stepping over of so many comfortably drawn lines, and to constant iPod worship on car rides.  I typically don't like group worship to recordings.  But, when all the hands are up in a bus revving through sewage on the way to a feeding program.....
... it may look and feel (smell?) like a roller coaster, but it's worship, in Spirit and truth, and so it's beautifully engaging.

Singlemindedness led to visions coming true.  Praying for our women before they went to bless some prostitutes, I got a picture of a field of yellow flowers and single bunch of grapes.  I didn't know what it meant, but I shared anyway (you don't have as great a risk of looking foolish when everyone is trying new things alongside you).  No one had any clear interpretation, so we moved on, and I forgot about it.  But when our women arrived at the meeting, they sat down in the gathering space and looked up.  There, out of place and alone, tacked to a cross beam, was a single bunch of plastic grapes.  Hanging in a big yellow room.

Singlemindedness meant praying for anyone and everyone with any kind of injury.  I don't do that here, when I see casts or wraps or winces.  I'm not sure we're supposed to.  But there, with the momentum of the group behind me, it was pretty obvious.  Even though we didn't see any crazy healings happen, we still tried over and over again, and that's huge.  And God touched people, left and right, through our prayers.


I felt the Lord most clearly in some of our group worship times, in prayer on the bus on the way to the prostitutes' rehabilitation home, and in spontaneous worship.  He met me most transformatively in conversations with Tripp, prayer with Pastor Oswaldo, sharing my testimony to several classrooms of highschool students, and in teaching 9 yr old Jose to take pictures with my camera.  By the by, Jose took the last five or so on my previous blog post (minus the very last shot).

Each of the above moments is worthy of paragraphs, if not books.  Such is life.  To write them all fully would fill every library in the world, and leave no room for imagination.  With your questions, ask away, but in my blog, I press on.

And french press on we will, soon, at Kudu.  And frankly, it just doesn't typically feel like I'm making a difference there.  Sure, some conversations drip with purpose.  But mostly, learning to serve in humility is hard work, soaked in glass cleaner, wrapped in towels.  It doesn't feel like Kingdom.  At least, not in the same way.

Lay aside, for the moment, that sometimes I still want to prove myself.  Lay aside my continuing fears of praying for people in front of other folks.  Lay aside the doubts that still surface when miracles don't happen as I expect/want them too.  I get frustrated.  As one friend of mine once prayed, Get me off the bench.  Let me play.

It's hard to see the intersection of Kingdom and Coffee.  Maybe in some ethereal, create jobs and disciple younger guys when you hire them kinda way.  Or in a fair trade, composting, creating communal third spaces kinda way.  But that's a vague intersection, somewhere in Greenville and my dreams.  It gets less concrete at the intersection of King and Vanderhorst.

Anyhow, I was explaining my feelings to my coworker tonight.  Actually, I was apologizing for my lack of motivation to serve.  It just didn't feel important, Kingdom bringing, difference making.  I stepped outside to straighten chairs, and while I did a guy and two girls walked in the shop.  Here's how the conversation went:

Guy & Gals: Hey, is the Christian employee here?
Coworker: Sorry, who?
G&G: You know, the guy who loves Jesus alot.
C: Oh, Drew? yeah he's outside.
G&G: Bandana?  Yep. (Noticing the leprechaun hat) I didn't realize Jesus celebrated St. Patty's Day...


Isn't that just amazing.  God knew I needed that.  Turns out, I am making an impact.  I am changing things.  I am bringing God glory, and showing people His love.*

Serving as a barista sometimes feels unfulfilling, even in a place as sweet as Kudu, with coworkers as ballin' as I have, with customers as interesting as I know.  It's hard to go from constant communal worship and prayer to doing it most days mostly by yourself.  But, it seems that the Kingdom is advancing here as well, as much as I sometimes wish I was called elsewhere.  It seems, wherever I am, the intersection between this world and that is present.  I am praying for the eyes to see it, and the heart to receive it.  And the boldness to act.




*Let it be known, many of the Kudu employees love Jesus as much and more than I do.  I respect many of them a lot, and seek guidance from them on many things.  That needs to be said- I am not the only 'one who loves Jesus alot'- far from it.  But, I appreciate it, as encouragement from God.