Last Saturday, I saw Jackie Pullinger's auto biography, "Chasing The Dragon" on my bookshelf and decided that I should try to finish it off. (I'm on a mission to finish off the plethora of books that I've partially read - I have a habit of reading too many at once!). I think it was God's providence that had me glimpse this particular book, because I had forgotten all about it, and it rocked me last Saturday. Reading about God's transforming power that changed so many 'hopeless' cases in Hong Kong reminded me that nothing is impossible with Him. No addiction or habitual sin is too big for God to break it. He is the Living God who saves.I long for God's power to be at work in our church and city like this - transforming the 'hopeless' cases in Peterborough and building a real spiritual family. But the cost and the sacrifice required? Am I ready for that? What a radically sacrificial way of life Jackie walked out every day. What crazy love God gave her for the drug addicts that she called her 'boys'. What determination and perseverance. What a willingness to give up her own comfort. What an eternal perspective. And here I am, always thinking about carving out "me time" away from people and their needs, focused all too often on myself and my comfort, stressing off and on about how Jon and I are going to make ends meet this year. This part of the book made me cry when I read it. Jackie writes:
I knew God would provide for me, but as the family [made up of ex-heroine addicts, 5 homeless children, and others] in Lung Kung Road grew, I was amazed to see our income grow too. Ever since I had stopped teaching full-time I found that I received all I needed. I was able to pay for the rent, the Youth Club room, and my language lessons. Sometimes a cheque would arrive in the post. Sometimes a friend would give exactly the same amount that I had been praying for. When I wanted to buy a rubber boat for a swimming expedition with the boys, a friend sent the right sum from England without knowing the need. Now while we never had enough money to pay for the next week's food or rent, we always had enough for each day. This was exhilarating for the boys who felt they had a real part in God's work when they prayed each morning for their daily bread. Sometimes an anonymous sack of rice would appear on the doorstep...
Every Sunday after the morning meeting we invited many people to lunch with us all at Lung Kong Road. A number of guests needed the good meal, so it was sad when one Sunday I had to tell the boys that we had no money for food.
"Boil the rice anyway and we'll pray for something to put on top," I said. Ten minutes before lunch, a panting and sweating visitor arrived carrying tins of food and fresh bean sprouts. His Kowloon Bible class had made a collection for us on the spur of the moment and sent him with their gifts. The young man, William, enjoyed being an answer to prayer just as much as the thirty of us enjoyed the huge meal only ten minutes later. It was an exciting way of life.
I was so convicted reading that. How often I find myself with clenched fists, believing that I must hold onto myself and my things and my time and my desires to be happy, when the truth is that it is joy and life to give ourselves away! I want my ducks in a row so badly that I often refuse to trust God to provide. I have never had to live in day-to-day dependence on God financially, and I certainly wouldn't deem that an exciting way of life as Jackie does here! That would terrify me. And that fear is an indication of my idolatry - that I don't really trust God deep down, and that I am holding financial security up as one of my greatest needs.
I was also convicted by the part where she said that they invited people over for lunch every Sunday. Sometimes I freak out about having people over because we're going over our monthly food budget to do it, but here Jackie invites THIRTY people over for food that they literally don't have the money for. They're not looking at just going over their food budget. They actually have only rice in the house and no money to buy anything else. And then God provides and they all eat and rejoice. What an exciting way of life for real! Why do I hold onto things so tightly when it is happy to let go?! Why do I think that being selfish will bring me joy? It never does. As that verse says, "unless a seed falls to the ground and dies, it remains a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds" (Jn12:24). There is no happiness found in worshiping idols of security and comfort... holding onto myself and my possessions as if they aren't all God's anyway. Joy is found in taking up my cross and following Him.
This even applies to my perspective on hospitality and our home. At a ladies retreat I went to a few weekends ago, the speaker hit the nail on the head when she spoke about how many of us as women feel like our homes are extensions of ourselves. We believe that people form opinions of "the woman of the house" based on the state of the house, and that's why we don't like people dropping by unexpectedly. This is so true of me. Somewhere along the way, I've embraced the idea that I should only invite people into my home when I have everything perfectly together - a clean table cloth and beautiful place settings, an immaculate bathroom, and perfectly arranged throw-cushions, along with a delicious meal, not to mention desert! Christine Hoover in her book "The Church Planting Wife" says this:
Our culture's version of hospitality involves beautiful events with beautiful decor and beautiful people. It's too bad we often believe this is true hospitality and therefore don't invite others into our homes. When we don't practice hospitality regularly, we miss opportunities to hear people's stories, to be known, and to display and experience a tangible gospel. We miss opportunities for friendship.
We miss these opportunities because we worry about the size of our space, the decor in our home, the cleanliness of the bathrooms, or our ability to cook. Hospitality is not about setting a scene or a table. It's about connecting over a meal and opening ourselves to relationships. It says: Here is my carpet covered in Cheerios, several invariably smashed. Here are the dirty dishes in the sink. Here is a pretty basic meal. Here are my rambunctious children. And here I am. You are welcome in my home and in my heart.
This verse from Proverbs really spoke to me this weekend and tied together what God has been doing in my heart since I read "Chasing the Dragon" last weekend:
A generous [woman] will prosper, [she] who refreshes others will [herself] be refreshed (Proverbs 11:25)
Now I don't think this verse is saying that it's a formula, like some kind of vending machine - pop in x and out will come y. I think it comes back to the fact that it is a joyful thing to give ourselves away. As I am generous with all that God has given me, recognizing that my home and money and food and time and everything isn't really mine to begin with, I find deep joy in sacrifice and letting go. Another quote from Christine Hoover says:
Although releasing control over our lives and living for the sake of others seems antithetical to our happiness, it is very much for our joy. Just after Jesus says that His followers must deny themselves, He tells them why: "For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it" (Luke 9:24). While pride leads to misery and down fall, sacrifice is the very foundation of an abundant life.
It's my prayer that God will help me to die to myself daily... that I would repent of pride and selfishness and idolatry, and live for Him who has given all for me.
