Itsara

One of the hardest things for me (and Cindy, I think) about this job is how little feedback there is. I am required on a daily basis to do seemingly meaningless tasks like chase Isaac around the house, play cards with Lutiya, ask Pan how her day was, fix bikes, sweep floors, change diapers, manage money, etc, etc. All without any sort of schedule, goal structure, yearly review, or even tangible reward.

What’s difficult is when we start asking “Why?” and “Are we doing enough?” We talk to other missionaries and start to think we should have, like, a ministry with meetings and evangelism and preaching and stuff.

That’s a job I can get my head around. Have so many regular meetings; measure success with attendance, altar call responses, discipleship groups; tell people at home that “We saved X souls this month!” I can understand that. I can measure it and improve.

I have no doubt that what we’re doing is valuable and worthwhile and is exactly what God has called us to do, but it’s hard to remember sometimes when you have to punish someone for the tenth time because they didn’t do their chore again.

I think sometimes I write to help me stay sane. To give me goals and deadlines and measurable progress. To help me feel like I’m accomplishing something.

It’s interesting to note, though, that I didn’t feel this way as much when our house was full, when Sandra and Matt and even Alaypa were here. That, of course, is why we’re praying and looking for more kids. Because whatever we feel about it, this is our job.

I was reading the end of Joshua the other day. Joshua is old and gives his last speech to the elders of Israel. He reminds them what God has done for them, and admonishes them to remain true to the Lord. Then he says this (emphasis mine):

“The Lord has driven out before you great and powerful nations; to this day no one has been able to withstand you. One of you routs a thousand, because the Lord your God fights for you, just as he promised. So be very careful to love the Lord your God.”

I thought these were powerful words. We don’t normally think of love as something we need to be careful about. We think love is an emotion; it comes and goes as it will, and we are subject to its whims. Or we think love is something that “just happens”, and when it does we’ll do whatever it takes to hold onto it, but until then we’ll just keep looking for it.

True love isn’t any of those things. True love is a choice one makes every single day. I’ve known that for a long time, but I still struggle with it sometimes when these kids – who aren’t even my own – yell and disobey and say they hate me. I still have to love them.

And I have to be careful about it. My gut reaction when somebody disrespects or disobeys is to become angry myself, but that’s not love. I have to be very careful not to do what comes naturally, but rather to love them with my whole being.

Sometimes it’s easier to love God, because God doesn’t often talk back. But it’s difficult when I feel like he’s not around, or when I’m reminded that loving him means loving some real life person whom it is very inconvenient to love right now. It’s something I have to be very, very careful about if I am to do it right.

This is a post about free will. I was reading a novel in which one of the characters joked that she prays the night before a presidential election. “For all the good it does,” she huffs. “God is a Republican from Texas.” It made me think: would God rig an election?

Assuming God had a candidate in mind, what would he do? Would he coerce people to vote a certain way, overriding their free will? I know some folks believe God can and does make people do whatever he wants, but it doesn’t make sense to me. If he could do that, why doesn’t he do it more often?

Maybe he would ask people to vote a certain way. But how many people do you think there are in the US that are receptive to God’s voice? That is, people who listen to God and spend time in prayer and fasting to learn his will? I don’t think many, and even fewer who would not only hear the voice but be willing to obey it no matter what he asked of them. Would it be enough to swing an election?

What if God just Spoke, so that whoever he wanted to have hear him would hear him for sure? Like the way he spoke to Moses in the desert, or the way he spoke over Jesus on the mountain. There was no doubt in the listeners’ minds that it was God. Surely *that* would get an election to go his way.

But God doesn’t do that. Maybe it wouldn’t do any good; we are surprisingly good at rationalizing reality so that we only see and hear what we want to. Or maybe it’s just one more way in which free will could be overrode.

Imagine a woman so beautiful that just to see her would cause any man to fall in love, just to hear her voice would make men swoon. Maybe God is like that woman, but he doesn’t want us to love him because we have to, so he hides his face. He doesn’t want us to obey because we have to, so he doesn’t speak, or he speaks in only whispers.

I don’t know if that’s the way it is, but it’s something to think about. The Bible tells us that at the end “every” knee will bow. I think because the very sight of him is enough to demand worship, even in those who want nothing to do with Him.

But that’s at the end. In the meantime, God is desperate for those who will love him without seeing him, those who will be faithful even when they can’t feel God, those who will obey because it’s right and for no other reason.

This isn’t really about elections, of course, but how God’s will gets done at all. In Heaven, it just gets done. On Earth, it gets done when we choose to do it.

A lot of us Christians have a tendency to believe that when we do the right things God will bless us. No, wait. That’s too vague. What I mean is, we tend to believe that if we do not sin, if we tithe properly, if we go to church, etc. then God will bless us in immediate, material ways. After all, if he doesn’t, then what’s the point, right?

That’s the question I’ve been thinking about: what’s the point? Why do we do good? It’s a critical question that we keep getting wrong. We do good things so we’ll get to Heaven. We do good things because God will punish us if we don’t. We do good things so that God will bless us.

I don’t think any of these are right though. I mean, there are murderers in Heaven. There are adulterers on Earth that are never punished. There are poor folks who tithe and remain poor their whole lives. There are rich folks who don’t give a penny, but they’re still rich and getting richer.

I teach my kids to share, to tell the truth, not to steal other people’s stuff. When they ask why, I don’t tell them it’s because something good will happen to them. Honestly the “good things” my kids want can be had much more easily by lying, stealing, and being selfish. For adults, too: if it’s money you’re after for example, lying, stealing, and being selfish will give you a higher probability of achieving it than tithing will.

My point is not that we should lie, cheat, and steal. My point is that maybe we’re aiming at the wrong things, that maybe avoiding punishment and getting rewards is the wrong motivation.

Right now, Isaac’s primary motivation not to hit Nathan is avoiding a time-out. Nathan’s primary motivation to clean up his toys is watching a movie. Punishments and rewards help teach children how to live, but if the child never grows out of them – if they always require punishments and rewards to do what’s right – then they will never truly be adults. Certainly there are many adults who live like this, only doing what’s right when someone is watching.

God doesn’t want people who are interested only in the immediate rewards, or even the “long term” rewards of an eternal life. He wants people to trust Him because He’s God. He wants people who will do what He says, even if they never see the results. I want Isaac not to hit Nathan because he cares about Nathan. I want Nathan to clean up his toys because he cares about the house, about others. I want them to learn to do what’s right, not for the rewards – and in the long run, not even because they care for others – but because doing those things will make them better people.

And I think becoming better people, people God can be proud of, is the point. Not being better people, mind you, but becoming. The goal is the journey, and it’s a journey I bet we’ll still be on when this life is over, though that’s another post.

Sean’s posted an update on his blog here. He talks about their trip to the States, what he’s doing now, and the possibility of them taking in some more kids.

Take a look.