I grew up in a typical, all-American, church-going
environment. I went to Sunday
school. I attended church-sponsored
summer camps. As I grew older, I even
taught Vacation Bible School. For those of
you unfamiliar with these terms, Google them.
Apparently, the first VBS (short for the aforementioned term) was coined
in 1894 by a public school teacher who happened to be a Sunday school teacher
in Hopedale, Illinois. Again, it’s a
good story … Google it.
During my church-going upbringing, I learned songs and
lots of them. One song in particular,
accompanied by great hand motions, is called ”He’s got the whole world in His
hands.” Being the product of military parents
and having traveled abroad, this was a concept that I readily affirmed. God, does, indeed have the whole world in his
hands.
Recently, however, I’ve come to see this phrase based on
my childhood song memories, in a different light. Not only does God “have the whole world in
his hands”, he’s got all the people in the world in his hands, too.
Last night I attended an Asian cooking class sponsored by
a local church. There were 10 people
present; I was the only American, there was 1 gal from Mongolia, 1 from Taiwan,
and the rest were Austrians. I got to
the class early, because I’m just so punctual that way, and discovered I was
the second participant to arrive. The
first, we’ll call him Mr. World Traveler, W.T. for short, beat me by 5
minutes. As we chatted, waiting for the
others to arrive, I began to discover lots and lots and lots about Mr. World Traveler. He is a retired photographer for an international
geographic magazine. In 1983 he decided
to follow Jesus. He had been married
once. He has one child, a son, whom he
has not seen since the boy was 2 years old; the son is now 37. He once took a trip from the northern most
tip of Africa all the way to Cape Town … on the top of a train. I found out all of this … in 15 minutes.
We all took portions of a recipe from Thailand, the focus
country for this week, and were responsible for following directions. Now, this was all in German. I was a nervous Nellie, checking and
rechecking that I was following directions … not wanting to mess up my portion
of the entire recipe! As we all worked
side by side, I began to make small talk with the other participants. Funny
what you can find out about a person while you are cutting onions. After the 3 course meal was prepared, we all
sat down to enjoy the fruit of our work.
I sat down next to D, a student. D is a young man who has visited the U.S.,
wants to be a teacher, and loves spicy food.
We got to talking about families.
He began to pour his heart about his family history. It was complicated … just like the rest of
our stories.
Then, I got to meet Mrs. S. Mrs. S is from Taiwan, but is married to an
Austrian. She is a follower of Christ
and suffered cultural shame in her home country for being identified with Jesus
Christ. She has a passion for seeing
other Asian countries be freed from the bondage of empty religion. Her heart breaks over the sex industry, specifically
for young prostitutes.
At the end of our dinner, the leader of our small band of
cooking enthusiasts showed us a power point about Thailand. We learned about the culture and religious
climate and then we all prayed for the country.
As I rode my bike home last night, my heart was so full
(ok, my tummy, too). As I rode through
the beautiful stone streets and impressive architecture of my European city, I
was struck by the vastness of God. All
the people in my little cooking class, all the people in Thailand, all the
people in my city … all in God’s hands.
Every story, every heartbreak, every thrill, and every challenge,
everything … all … in … His … hands.
Recently, I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting. If I’m honest, the situation that has brought
me to this point has not been fun. In
fact, my heart has been … perhaps still is … worn out. Yet, despite my troubles … I am in his
hands. During these last few weeks, I’ve
been keenly aware of the weight of my body resting in those hands. I know they are always there … I even take
for granted that they hold me. It’s
during times of weakness we are better able to rely on and rest in those hands.
I am not alone.
There are countless people with countless stories. Mr. W.T., D, all those in my cooking class …
they all have stories. They all have
stories of lives that have not been easy, or safe … but have at one point come
to the realization that they have need the only hands that can hold them secure
… the hands of God.
The more I walk through life, totally and unashamedly
dependant on God, I realize the simplicity of the truth. God loves me.
God has provided a way for me to know him, personally. Jesus is that way. Jesus makes life simpler … not easier … not
safer.
2 comments
My dear far flung friend...it feels like the older we get the more we come to understand the things of God. He is big! He does not abandon His own! He longs to be glorified! I miss you and want coffee with you. Consider yourself hugged:-)
ReplyDeleteChristina, I think your blogs have shown progressing maturity over the years. I don't know what your stress is at the moment but here is a verse I like: Deut.33:27 The eternal God is your refuge and underneath are the everlasting arms. I also like Psalm 91 for encouragement. Prayers and blessings, Pat
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