From humiliation to humility

Just over 5 years ago on Guam, I had to get some paperwork from the public health office. I remember this experience as humiliating. First of all, this is not a nice building, run down, and abused. I was ignorant of the reason that a healthy person with insurance would have to go to “public health”. I was very prideful because at the time, I was living well below the U.S. poverty level and had insurance and enough money, so it seemed an insult to me that I had to go hang out at public health with “real” poor people. I was concerned that I would be judged as in the same category as everyone else there. You know the stigma thing. Maybe, it wasn’t only pride, a bit of fear because my family and I were so close to being there in need.

As God would have it, I had to go back again for the same piece of paper. The original had been lost from my record. I hoped that public health would have the record and could copy it but no, I had to go through all interviews and steps in the process all over. However, this time I was not humiliated. I was humble. I sat with people in real need. The number of children out numbered adults. They were all patiently waiting there turn, no one complained. Most people even seemed grateful to have a place to turn to in their need. There was no stigma. I was there for what I was there for and everyone else was there for whatever they were there for. I was too caught up in myself to notice anyone else the first time.

I thank God for the opportunity to see how much I have grown by this sort of apple for apple comparison.

When the roll is called...

I don’t think about death too often; in fact, I can probably count the number times on one hand, but recently pondered death for a bit. I think it is a healthy thing to do as long as death is not the continuing thought. One should remember one’s mortality in order to appreciate life and live.

I thought of death when I enlisted into the Air Force Reserve. I was to enlist just before 9-11 but was held up by some paperwork, then after 9-11 had to think, we are at war, am I ready to do this and possibly die? I enlisted.

I thought of death when I was told that my tuberculosis skin test was positive. I know that people do not die from TB much anymore but I was just beginning life with Mal and didn’t want to think about death when life only seemed to be beginning.

I think of Mal dying once in a while. He is older than I am and the chance is he will die before me. I read in a marriage book that you should mourn the death of your partner together while you are both alive. That way you do not miss the opportunity to say, “I will miss you.”

But I thought of me dying this week. I was sitting in the clinic in a great deal of pain from an outer ear infection. I first was thinking of the purpose of pain; to signal to the brain that something is wrong. But as I thought, I decided that pain for many of us may need to be part of death. As I sat there in pain, I thought if God tapped me on the shoulder at that moment and said your time on earth is up, I would have readily gone. The pain would stop. I desired that. I know that God is not tapping but at the same time recognized I was ready and not afraid.

I am not sure that once the pain stops I will be able to say the same thing. Once life is pain free, I am not sure I will feel the same way about dying; I will not be ready to die, I will desire to live. So maybe I will need a bit of pain to encourage me to my eternal home. Maybe…

Fight or Flight

Today, I met with my supervisor at his office at the Bible College. I am in the Air Force Reserve and came straight from the base to his office so was still in uniform. It also meant that I was coming to the college from the opposite direction and when I got to about where I thought it was and didn’t see it, I stopped at a shop and asked a young man if he knew where the college was. He point just there. I was close so headed back to my car then he called to me. I stopped and he asked me, “Why do you want to go study Bible and go fight for our freedom?” I stopped dead in my tracks. I was late for my appointment so I gave him the easy answer, “I am just going there for a meeting.” But then I did not have long enough drive to campus to really give this deep thought so here it is on the blog. The truth is I don’t want to fight for freedom. I don’t want to fight period. This was probably not true when I enlisted, oh so many years ago. I have put too much time in to just give up the retirement benefits. And most of the time I enjoy my military work because I can do ministry and serve people where I am. I was told by my commanding officer that I have a certain ethic about me. Could it be….God? I believe so and the comment tells me that God is working there. Tough question, why study the Bible and fight for freedom? I feel called where I am so could say, “God told me to.” Or I could just say, “I have a meeting.

My Home?

“This world is not my home; I’m just a passing through...” All houses are temporary.

I have invited people to our house for dinner. Then I had to say, the Pastor’s house, but had to change that again because the house belongs to the church. I invited my friends to my temporary house to which the response came all houses are temporary.

I fully understand that I am in this lovely location in Guam for another 8 or so weeks but we have a townhouse in Brisbane, how long will I be there? A couple of years probably, Mal and I purchased it with the intention of staying forever. Even then, I knew that was not really true and just a figure of speech. Even when we bought the house I knew it was just for a time until God called.

Ever since we purchased, we thanked God for the home and prayed that God would use it for his purposes. But often I forget that it is God’s house. I wanted new floors, I was planning new floors for me. I hate the existing floors and was demanding new ones. God said, “It’s not your house.” Then, tiles began to fall off of the bathroom wall. I was devastated. Now, we have beautiful new bathrooms and fresh paint in the bedrooms and the same floors. Not my plan, I was happy with the bathrooms. But the result, I need to not plan so much and just let it be God’s house. God can plan and the results are beyond my dreams and better than what I would have done.

If God can do that with a house, what would happen if we gave him all our possessions? What would happen if we gave him our lives?

“My treasures are laid out somewhere beyond the blue. The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door and I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.”