Processing the price of life.

I'm going to be honest, the passion for fighting human trafficking does not come as easily to me as it does to others I know.  Yes, learning about the situations and hearing the stories often make me queasy in the pit of my stomach.  Yes, I do care about the injustice and yes, I want to do things about it.  At the same time, I'm pretty sure God is not calling me to fight human trafficking as my life's work (at least not at this point in my life), so the hear-respond-process becomes a slow but steady process of growth.  As God constantly brings the issue up in my life, it causes me to learn how my lifestyle relates to human trafficking and how can I make decisions that will work against human trafficking and not contribute to it.  It takes time and discipline for me to peel away the layers of the complexity of the issue, orient myself as to where I stand, and then take the next step of faith forward in obedience to God's invitation.  Over time, the ignorance and apathy start to erode the way a river's steady stream of water polishes a rock in a river.

What does this have to do with college campus ministry, you may ask?  Well, I first learned about the issue of human trafficking when I was a college student.  Peers of mine helped me become aware of the injustice and helped me begin this journey of understanding justice and God, which forced me to re-think my actions, purchases, decisions, and how I was called to live my everyday life - not just while I was in college, but after I graduated as well.

Last week I was sent to New York City to help coach students as a staff for the Price of Life Campaign.  While it was a 12-day period, I was sent there, along with my other upstate colleagues, to help with the middle four days of raising awareness about human trafficking to college students all around the New York City area.

I didn't really know what to expect, but whatever it was, it ended up not being what I expected.  I found myself more often than not failing miserably to step into what I realize now were God's invitations for me to follow His lead.  I realize now that I had forgotten what it was like to faithfully follow my leaders' lead and with a joyful, servant's heart.  I had forgotten how God can advance His kingdom through seemingly menial tasks.  Even tying it to the heart of why I started this blog:  I often focused so much on busting rocks - the task itself - that I lost sight of the fact that we were building a cathedral.

But God, of course, moved despite my sub-par faithfulness.  Within a 2-week period, we got to witness 11,941 students engage in conversations around the issue of human trafficking; 5,000 students hear the gospel; and 260 students move from darkness to light, deciding to follow Jesus as Lord and Savior.

You know, I wish I could've led someone to Christ, or had this a-ha moment or awestruck experience with Christ during my time at Price of Life, but not everything ties up into a nice, pretty bow.  I guess I just get to realize that the Holy Spirit is washing over me, bringing my sinfulness and brokenness in the world to the surface.  Maybe He's bringing these things to my attention so that I have another opportunity to respond differently than I have been - to not settle or stay where it's comfortable, whatever that may look like.  And maybe I just need to trust that God's never-ending work and ever abundant love is changing me, even if you're not exactly sure how or what that looks like.

Counting the costs.

Believe it or not, InterVarsity staff workers, just like any missionary, can get discouraged.  And lately I've been discovering that when I am discouraged, it creates a vulnerable space where I pull out all the things I've sacrificed for this mission, list out each one before God, and complain to Him in this self-righteous, self-justifying tone, saying, "Look at everything I've given up to be here.  Why aren't things getting better?  Do you know how hard I'm working?"

It's terrible, I know.  But trust me, God's been pushing back.

There's a church that supports Nathan (which subsequently indirectly supports me) and hosts a missions weekend each year.  It's a whole affair where they work hard to invite all of the missionaries they support locally and globally together with the church to celebrate what God is doing.  It provides an opportunity for the church members to get to know the missionaries, learn about what God's doing through them, and for both church members and missionaries to encourage and exhort one another in roles we all have in Jesus' commission.  They have tons of food, activities, and even a whole flag ceremony.  Quite the shindig.

Well, it certainly was a notably encouraging experience for me.  People whom I had just met and barely knew wanted to talk to me and Nathan because they were curious about more specifics of what our job entailed or wanted to express genuine interest in praying for us specifically.  Others took the time to ask about what was going on and listen to the praises and struggles we were currently experiencing.  Still others went out of their way to make sure we knew that we could come to them for absolutely anything that we needed, whether it was specific prayer requests or ways to physically serve.  I felt so cared for and loved by these people who knew so little about me.  I was struck by the beauty of being connected through the body of Christ.

It was a message given by the keynote speaker for the weekend that particularly challenged me that weekend on a different note.  Norm Poehlke spoke about Matthew 13:44-46, which says:

"The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field.  When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.  Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls.  When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it."

Norm unpacked verse 44, saying, "If finding treasure provokes a radical response and we have not made a radical response, then we have not found the treasure."  While this reminded me of the radical response I made in following Jesus to InterVarsity staff, it also reminded me that I found the treasure and that I needed to re-examine what that kingdom of heaven means to me now.

Then Norm continued, "So what's the pearl?  The Sunday School answer would be, 'Jesus,' right?"  We all chuckled.  "But that's not what the text says.  Jesus' death is not the pearl - it's the price he paid for the pearl."

It was as if God was saying to me, "I see everything you've given up.  I hear your cries and frustration.  But have you forgotten everything I've done for you?"

Finally, Norm left us with this challenge:  "Whose kingdom are we pursuing?  Are we saying, 'Jesus, come and sit on the throne of my life'?  Or are we answering Jesus' challenge to us to, 'Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow me'?"

I think God has been saying, "Yes, Tammy, you've given up a lot of things to come and follow me.  But have you given up everything?  What are you still holding on to?"