There is a young man, 19 years old, going to bed tonight in Kayole, a neighborhood in Nairobi. His name is Boniface. He is Congolese and has been in Kenya for four years, which also happens to be the same amount of time since he has last seen anyone in his family. I met him today in Kayole, surrounded by four of his friends he met when he first arrived. They all have similar stories, as do all the refugees that I met yesterday. Conflict drove them into a new reality.
But this post is not another recitation of sad things. I am tired of dwelling on trauma, whether it be mine, a kid in a jail, a refugee, a friend of Darlene's whom she met in her travels, or anyone elses. It is not that I do not care about these issues, but rather that I no longer want to spend my time navigating all the nooks and crannies of such pain, whether this be through conversation or my own internal thinking. If you have not seen me do this, I do. Way too much.
My hope is that these three months could see a new birth in my approach to life, in which instead of dwelling on darkness, I dwell on joy. Jesus said that he overcame the world, that he holds the keys to death and hades, and that all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to him. I am tired of spending my time focusing on trying to articulate to myself and others just how bad the world can be. I think everyone knows the world can be awful and left on that train ages ago. With the words of Jesus and my belief in him before me, I am sensing that the lens with which I view the world is flawed. Looking at the world through the lens of darkness only breeds hopelessness.
But joy, to have contentment in every situation, assurance, confidence, to have considered the darkness yet chosen to delight in the Lord, to be...I am trying to find the perfect combination of words. Joy, I want to learn to dwell on joy. I am not talking about a pollyanna-ish approach which (I think) pretends that bad things are not bad. Rather, I want to view the darkness as something that cannot overcome joy. I want to respond with, think about, speak about, communicate with, approach situations with, grapple with, move forward in, and work with joy.
Darlene has quite a story, but she let me know she is quite exhausted from her traveling and will post it tomorrow. It is a doozy.
But this post is not another recitation of sad things. I am tired of dwelling on trauma, whether it be mine, a kid in a jail, a refugee, a friend of Darlene's whom she met in her travels, or anyone elses. It is not that I do not care about these issues, but rather that I no longer want to spend my time navigating all the nooks and crannies of such pain, whether this be through conversation or my own internal thinking. If you have not seen me do this, I do. Way too much.
My hope is that these three months could see a new birth in my approach to life, in which instead of dwelling on darkness, I dwell on joy. Jesus said that he overcame the world, that he holds the keys to death and hades, and that all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to him. I am tired of spending my time focusing on trying to articulate to myself and others just how bad the world can be. I think everyone knows the world can be awful and left on that train ages ago. With the words of Jesus and my belief in him before me, I am sensing that the lens with which I view the world is flawed. Looking at the world through the lens of darkness only breeds hopelessness.
But joy, to have contentment in every situation, assurance, confidence, to have considered the darkness yet chosen to delight in the Lord, to be...I am trying to find the perfect combination of words. Joy, I want to learn to dwell on joy. I am not talking about a pollyanna-ish approach which (I think) pretends that bad things are not bad. Rather, I want to view the darkness as something that cannot overcome joy. I want to respond with, think about, speak about, communicate with, approach situations with, grapple with, move forward in, and work with joy.
Darlene has quite a story, but she let me know she is quite exhausted from her traveling and will post it tomorrow. It is a doozy.
2 comments:
I feel you David! When you get home I'll introduce you to Jason, the guy who convened the conversation about suffering/ hope. Seems like he's in a really similar place to you.
Another friend just reminded me of this blog post from a few (4!) years ago -- king-of relavent. It's a good song:
http://edeng.blogspot.com/2008/02/lord-is-my-shephard-i-shall-not-want-he.html
Those were wonderful lyrics Eden, thanks for posting. I would love to meet Jason. No, life is not a carnival. But what a great line, it is more than our sorrow (I took this to mean it's actually worse than we thought), yet it is also more than our joy (it is also better than anything we could ever hope for). Thank you Jesus.
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