Sunday, March 13, 2011

To be a Christian...what does that look like?

When you think of the word Christian?
  • Do you think of people who sit in a church, keep the pews warm, and look down their noses at anyone who does not live up to their standards?
  • Do you think of someone who embraces a lifestyle dedicated to intimacy in and with the Father, provoking extreme obedience, manifesting in radical stewardship, here "...on earth as it is in heaven."?

This is something I have been wrestling with for a long time. I first went to the missions field when I was just 15, and served in Chihuahua, Mexico for two weeks. The scriptures that came to my heart then, and have not left me were Luke 9:3 "And He said to them, "Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money; and do not have two tunics." and the Rich Young Ruler from Luke 18:18-30, and Acts 2:44-47 "And all who believed were together and had all things in common. And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need. And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved."

What do those mean? I know that that is how the early church was, and that Jesus was giving instructions to his disciples. But for me, now for 13 years, these have been the scriptures weighing heavy on my heart. By 19, I was was ministering among the subcultures. I had no drivers license, worked odd and end jobs, as long as they would keep me, and giving from the little I had to those in need. That summer to winter, I lost 5 friends, three to car and motor cycle accidents. Depression and PTSD from that and another event my 20th year, became my closest friends. I had bought a house when I was 24, to fix up and become a safe haven for at risk youth... but lost it 6 months later due both my house mate and I glossing our jobs. On the bright side, I gained a husband out of it, for a friend had come to help, and we grew to love each other..something neither of us were looking for.

Robby and I have never owned our own place. In fact, now 3 years married....our largest place is our small 1 bedroom apartment here at college where we have a bedroom, bathroom, living room, dinning room, and kitchen of our own. Normally, we have had only a bedroom and bathroom, and we have never been unhappy with either little or much. We were married just as the economy fell apart, and jobs have not been easy to come by. We have lived in 8 states since we were married, and traveled to many more, some for jobs, some for ministry. At 26, I finally got my drivers license and a truck. A year later, Dad and I swapped trucks... my 1984 F-150 for his 1997 Dodge Dakota, and Robby and I headed out to Dine Bikeyah as missionaries to them.

Now here I sit, 9 months later, wondering still... how is this suppose to look? Which type of Christian am I: one they hate or one who draws others closer to Him? I am still not sure, and the search continues.

~ Traveller Gal, out!

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