Perspective Change.
Does desperation ring in your heart?
Friday afternoon, the ten of us gathered under the impression that this would be a poverty simulation. Man, was it ever. It was an intense poverty simulation by the name of "Jubilee Village" that, little did we know, would actually place us in the position of locals in a third world country that live on less than a dollar per day. The first thing we were told was "Your standard of living will go down, but your quality of living will go up." We were immediately divided into three countries and were given a "baby" (water balloon) and one of our people was designated to be sick. You see, the problem with this, was that our villages were so tight knit, that we didn't believe in eating until the sick person was well, so we had to go pick flowers for their medicine. I believe it was at this point that I said "What percentage of our grade is this weekend?" (30%, in case you were curious.) Our village received 3 hard boiled eggs, an orange, and 3 bottles of water to last the three of us the whole weekend, in which we bartered with the other villages to get some food for our "baby" (ridiculous, I know.) This food was to last us until 2 on Saturday afternoon (or so we thought). Friday night, there was a freeze warning in which the temperature declined to about 32 degrees or so. Between the temperature, the wind, and my growling stomach, sleep didn't come easy. We arose Saturday morning and were told we would have to work for our money to be able to go to the market at 2 that afternoon. A "slave driver" was brought in, in which we were rated upon our ability to work. The women were rated significantly lower than the men. Our slave driver told us we would be paid $3.50 for our work, so on nearly empty stomachs, we shoveled lots of mulch for the day. Once it was finally time for market, we walked to the market in which we were introduced to an "American missionary" that came over with good intentions, but expressed her distaste for our villages and ate in front of us. At one point, she dropped some chips on the ground, and we all dove for the chips. Not even exaggerating. We DOVE and ate the chips off the ground. We finally got paid for our work to be able to go to the market, in which we were all paid about 1/3 of what we were promised. Being on the bottom of the totem pole, they can do that. We couldn't afford hardly anything at the market. The three of us split an orange for lunch. We were straight up desperate. Desperate for food. Desperate for the reason that not 100 feet away was the cafeteria. Desperate for hope, because no matter what we did, we couldn't get ahead. We couldn't even reach the point of survival. We had to choose between taking our sick person to the doctor, or buying a carrot and a hard boiled egg. In that moment, I was desperate. I think back to July (ish) of 2015 whenever I had a near drowning experience. In that moment, I was desperate for air.
Let me ask you something. Have you ever been desperate? No, I mean desperate. Desperate in the sense of you are willing to eat flowers off the ground, for you can't move another step? Desperate for water? Desperate for sleep? Desperate for a sense of power and control once more? Desperate that the missionary that just spent thousands to get over there would be so kind to buy you a carrot? You might say no, but I think differently.
I think we're all desperate. We're all desperate for healing, love, mercy, truth, and justice. We're all desperate for God, deep in the caverns of our being. Deep in the caverns, we no longer desire us, but only Him. Are you desperate for Him? No? Look deeper. Set aside your own eyes and ways for just a moment, and seek Him, and only Him.
During this intensive poverty simulation, I truly had a physical feeling of desperation that went far beyond desire. That feeling of desperation has translated into my spiritual walk.
Get desperate, or be made desperate.
Friday afternoon, the ten of us gathered under the impression that this would be a poverty simulation. Man, was it ever. It was an intense poverty simulation by the name of "Jubilee Village" that, little did we know, would actually place us in the position of locals in a third world country that live on less than a dollar per day. The first thing we were told was "Your standard of living will go down, but your quality of living will go up." We were immediately divided into three countries and were given a "baby" (water balloon) and one of our people was designated to be sick. You see, the problem with this, was that our villages were so tight knit, that we didn't believe in eating until the sick person was well, so we had to go pick flowers for their medicine. I believe it was at this point that I said "What percentage of our grade is this weekend?" (30%, in case you were curious.) Our village received 3 hard boiled eggs, an orange, and 3 bottles of water to last the three of us the whole weekend, in which we bartered with the other villages to get some food for our "baby" (ridiculous, I know.) This food was to last us until 2 on Saturday afternoon (or so we thought). Friday night, there was a freeze warning in which the temperature declined to about 32 degrees or so. Between the temperature, the wind, and my growling stomach, sleep didn't come easy. We arose Saturday morning and were told we would have to work for our money to be able to go to the market at 2 that afternoon. A "slave driver" was brought in, in which we were rated upon our ability to work. The women were rated significantly lower than the men. Our slave driver told us we would be paid $3.50 for our work, so on nearly empty stomachs, we shoveled lots of mulch for the day. Once it was finally time for market, we walked to the market in which we were introduced to an "American missionary" that came over with good intentions, but expressed her distaste for our villages and ate in front of us. At one point, she dropped some chips on the ground, and we all dove for the chips. Not even exaggerating. We DOVE and ate the chips off the ground. We finally got paid for our work to be able to go to the market, in which we were all paid about 1/3 of what we were promised. Being on the bottom of the totem pole, they can do that. We couldn't afford hardly anything at the market. The three of us split an orange for lunch. We were straight up desperate. Desperate for food. Desperate for the reason that not 100 feet away was the cafeteria. Desperate for hope, because no matter what we did, we couldn't get ahead. We couldn't even reach the point of survival. We had to choose between taking our sick person to the doctor, or buying a carrot and a hard boiled egg. In that moment, I was desperate. I think back to July (ish) of 2015 whenever I had a near drowning experience. In that moment, I was desperate for air.
Let me ask you something. Have you ever been desperate? No, I mean desperate. Desperate in the sense of you are willing to eat flowers off the ground, for you can't move another step? Desperate for water? Desperate for sleep? Desperate for a sense of power and control once more? Desperate that the missionary that just spent thousands to get over there would be so kind to buy you a carrot? You might say no, but I think differently.
I think we're all desperate. We're all desperate for healing, love, mercy, truth, and justice. We're all desperate for God, deep in the caverns of our being. Deep in the caverns, we no longer desire us, but only Him. Are you desperate for Him? No? Look deeper. Set aside your own eyes and ways for just a moment, and seek Him, and only Him.
During this intensive poverty simulation, I truly had a physical feeling of desperation that went far beyond desire. That feeling of desperation has translated into my spiritual walk.
Get desperate, or be made desperate.
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