Where there's a Heart, there's a Way

Since my time here, I have had conversations with people from Australia, Fiji, Germany, Canada, England, Scotland, Samoa, New Zealand, Ireland and Iraq; all who have lived in this house with me for a week or more. With each encounter I have with these people, another layer of pre-conceived perception is peeled away from my world view. The scales on my eyes are falling off. It’s the most refreshing and renewing experience. As the size of the world shrinks, so does the self, thus relationships and God grow larger, until ultimately every part of me is consumed with the realization of “more”. I want to know more, I want to do more, for it’s a small world after all.

I have heard many conflicting opinions on Americans from people across the world, and I have come with this temporary theory: The westerners are blinded by materialism while the east can’t see past their traditions. Both of these lifestyles are equally crippling, I think. But I am part of a vision, a vision much larger than myself, yet tangible enough for me to carry on my own two feet: the vision of breaking out of this mold and redefining what it means to live in community. Not everything is self-attained.

It has always been a desire of mine to travel, maybe do missions or some schooling overseas; it wasn’t until these past two weeks where my desire possibly matured into a life calling. I saw some pictures of the areas we will be living in while in South Africa, it’s not tribal areas as I expected, but slums—little shacks made of pieces of scrap metal leaned together. I saw a video taken by a girl who was there last year of a 7 year old African boy running through these slums kicking a ball when suddenly he stops, hops on one foot , pulls a shard of glass from his other foot, tosses it aside, wipes the blood on his chest and keeps running. This picture pierced my heart like the glass itself--ever since seeing this, empathy and sympathy has been spilling from my heart for the people of other nations. We intercede against infanticide, and I feel my own heart takes personal offense; I see video clips of Ecuador tribes, hear personal testimonies from the slaves of Indonesia and hear of mercy mission opportunities around the world and my heart jumps a beat. Each story I hear is fuel, growing this passion inside me to be more real.

Don’t worry mom and dad- I’m not planning on running off and living in an Amazon tribe or anything. And college is still in the back of my mind for sure, but my eyes are being opened, my feet are finding opportunities to move, and I have a feeling that after this awakening they will never stand still again.

A phrase that has randomly popped into my head on more than one occasion is: “Humbled by dirt.” I believe that this phrase both reflects my character- as I am one who prefers the outdoors to a building or manmade structure any day- and who I am yet to become. I want to live humbled by dirt. Our society has used the ground only as a block on which to build up from. Many live suspended above this dirt while others have it under their fingernails and rely on living from the dirt and not over the dirt. Since I’ve been in Australia, my feet seem to be permanently dirty. The dust from camping, sand from the beach and grease from the kitchen just won’t come off. My roommates and I had a night where we all washed and manicured our feet, only for them to be a dark grey by the next night. And you know what? I’m totally comfortable with this. Yesterday I went trekking barefoot for hours down a rock cliff with a couple other girls. By the time we got back, the barnacles and crevices of the rocks had cut into our feet, leaving them raw, bleeding and burnt from the hot surfaces. We had to painfully scrub out the sand in the saltwater of the sea, but after a day of healing, our feet had callused over, and though they remain filthy, they are stronger. For a small price, Kim, Erika, Sai and I were able to see a part of the forest and ocean that no one else had laid eyes on that day, and because of it, we will be able to journey even farther next time. This is how I want to live-- with feet that are callused and trekking forward, sincerely humbled by dirt.