I recently wrote a paper about the book, “Dead Aid”. It is written by a Zambian economist, Dambisa Moyo, and describes the effect that foreign aid has on Africa. Overall it is a great novel and I highly recommend it but that is not the reason I bring it up. Reading this book took me back to when I was graced with the opportunity to go on a mission trip to Malawi, Africa with my church in high school.
We went to Malawi to support the Spencer family who are missionaries that have been a big part of our church for a long time. Their second oldest son, Jon Jon, was a dear mentor of mine for a while until he left to join them for a couple years. He is now a thriving youth leader down in Florida with his wife and three children.
Africa was different…it was everything that you’ve heard about it, but so much more. All the months of preparation, the prayers, support, and mental and physical preparation just was not enough. It was greater than anything I had ever experienced. I was truly out of my comfort zone.
After we settled down and recovered from our culture shock along with our 23-hour plane ride, we began to feel at ease, comforted by the familiarity of our friends on the trip with us. Even though we were surrounded by friends, the change of environment was something that still shocked us. We were away from our normal habitat that we learned to thrive.
The entirety of the trip went smoothly. Memories were made, unique pictures taken, different foods tried, and of course jet lag destroyed us all. But what stuck with me most of that trip was a Bible verse that was preached to us at the beginning of the week.
“And the sons of the prophets said to Elisha, “See now, the place where we dwell with you is too small for us. Please, let us go to Jordan, and let every man take a beam from there, and let us make there a place where we may dwell.” So he answered, “Go.” Then one said, “Please consent to go with your servants.” And he answered, “I will go.” So he went with them. And when they came to Jordan, they cut down trees. But as one was cutting down a tree, the iron ax head fell into the water; and he cried out and said, “Alas, master! For it was borrowed.” So the man of God said, “Where did it fall?” And he showed him the place. So he cut off a stick, and threw it in there; and he made the iron float. Therefore he said, “Pick it up for yourself.” So he reached out his hand and took it.”-2 Kings 6:1-7 (NKJV).
I was recently given this statement, by a dear friend, to ponder: “I’ve noticed I’ve been talking a lot more about God than with Him.”
This phrase hit me at my core. I have found myself recently, especially with this blog, talking about my faith and not actually being a participant of it. This has been quite a cycle for me in my slowly growing faith. I have always found it easy to talk about God and everything that He has done in my life. I always enjoyed talking about faith and listening to different perspectives, always being the first to give a typical Sunday school answer. Even though it was and is easy to talk about God, it is hard for me sometimes to talk with God.
This quarantine has been a particular litmus test for me so to speak. I have always seen God most in my life through the people He has blessed me with, always praying for me, keeping me accountable, and checking in on me. With this isolation, it has been harder for me to talk about God and thus for me, it has been more evident that I have not been talking with God.
I often find this problem of my lack of communication with God to resurface when I find myself struggling, when I am drained, and my family and friends are pointing me to God. I talk to God when I need Him, not when I don’t think I do, when life is going well and I feel on top of things, but that’s not how a relationship is supposed to go, that’s not how faith is supposed to be. God is there when life is good and when life kind of sucks. There should never be a point in your life where you feel like you should not be reliant on God. You are always broken, always repenting, always growing.
Faith is not just telling everyone about God and your faith when you don’t talk to God. Faith is picking it up. When God does something miraculous in your life, pick it up. The servants saw what Elisha did in the name of the Lord, but the reason Elisha told the servant to pick it up, was so that he believed it. God wants us to pick up our faith and make it our own. God is constantly holding our hand, and even in the times of our lives where we let go, He is still holding on, never letting us go.
Africa for me was a trip to pick up my faith and show it in my actions instead of my words. That’s what “picking it up” boils down to: do my actions show my faith more than my words do? Does my heart yearn to talk about God because I love Him, and He is great? or just because it will just make me look like a good Christian?
God has never let me go. He has never let my “axe head” sink, but merely pushed me to pick it up, to embrace His love and character in my own relationship with Him and instead of talking about my faith, walking it.
What prevents you from picking up your faith?
What would it look like for you to pick it up?
How can your relationship with God improve?
“I’d rather see a sermon than hear one any day;
I’d rather one should walk with me than merely tell the way.
The eye is a better pupil, more willing than the ear;
Fine counsel is confusing, but example is always clear,
And the best of all the preachers are the men who live their creeds,
For to see a good put in action is what everybody needs.
I can soon learn how to do it if you will let me see it done;
I can watch your hand in action, but your tongue too fast may run.
And the lectures you deliver may be very wise and true,
But I’d rather get my lesson by observing what you do.
For I may misunderstand you and the high advice you give,
But there is no misunderstanding how you act and how you live.
When I see a deed of kindness, I am eager to be kind.
When a weaker brother stumbles, and a strong man stands behind
Just to see if he can help him, then the wish grows strong in me
To become as big and thoughtful as I know that friend to be.
And all travelers can witness that the best of guides today
Is not the one who tells them, but the one who shows the way.
One good man teaches many; men believe what they behold;
One deed of kindness noted is worth forty that are told.
Who stands with men of honor learns to hold his honor dear,
For right living speaks a language which to everyone is clear.
Though an able speaker charms me with his eloquence, I say,
I’d rather see a sermon than hear one any day.”
— Edgar A. Guest
The Looking Glass Blog 