My Job Description

It has been a little over one month since I arrived in Thailand, and so much of my worldview and heart has changed I am not totally sure what remains from before.

When I left Moon's village, it was very difficult for me to understand how God can still be good when such strategic, cleverly placed and powerful evil exists in the world. I couldn't help but ask God why he would have all power and not use it to rescue children from rape, give women more of a choice than that of prostitution or starvation ant to stop militaries from forcing families leave thier homes and livelihoods. Why would he not come down in fire and glory, with mighty hands and trembling anger to stop oppression and corruption? Where is his comfort to people who have lost all sense of their inherent, precious value in his eyes? By what method is he healing wounds of abuse and exlpoitation?

Then, suddenly and painfully, I realized what Scripture says is God's primary method of relieving injustice is:

Us. 

Man, it would've been a lot more simpler to blame it all on God. Because if this is true--that His People are indeed the sources of justice in this world, not organizations or governments or programs--that changes the filter through which we see our lives.

If my number one job description as a follower of Christ is to "seek justice" (Michah 6:8) and walk with the poor, than my first question to God when 'planning' my life is, "How?" How, God, do you want me to orient myself to injustice? What are you calling me to do?

This makes the reality of evil in this world menacing. I spoke with my mom today, and she captured it in very simple terms. We were talking about the boys I met a couple weeks ago who were being ministered to by a local NGO. These boys are currently in prostitution (some as young as 5). They are given two options in life, basically: starvation or prostitution. Of this stark fact my mom said, "Lyric, the very fact that these boys are forced into making that choice is a direct result of our sin." What does that mean?

That means that Christians aren't doing enough. I am convinced of this. That means that millions of disciples in the US (not to mention the others around the world) grow up in the church, go to college, make for themselves a career, get married, work, have kids and retire when four year old girls in the Phillipines are strapped to boards of wood and raped continuously. When five year old boys are sent to the city to provide for their families by having sex with American men. When Christian women's bible are taken and burned, then they are raped and murdered in front of their husbands and children because of the color of their skin and their faith that threatens communist thought. When fathers watch their children burn alive because armies are full of evil and corruption. When genocide plagues countries around the world.

That, my brothers and sisters, is why it is a painful realization. I can only imagine what Jesus is going to say to us when he comes back. There is injustice that we have never known surrounding us from all angles, and we choose to enjoy our blessings and freedoms in the States without interruption. That's like if the disciples kept all the fish and bread that Jesus made for the crowd of 5,000 for themselves--praising God for what he given them when there were people dying of hunger all around. How can we justify a life like that? (Good News About Injustice by Gary Haugen)

...Well, I don't want to. My God has had to be so much bigger for me here than he ever did at home. In the face of true evil his goodness has had to be so much more bright. His grace has had to be so much more free. His love has had to be so much more selfless, patient and sacrificial.

But his call has been so much more active and huge.

A couple of days after returning from Burma, my professor told me a story I don't think I will forget. She was studying human trafficking for the UN--writing papers on how governments can address the issue. Out of nowhere, Moon called her. "Christa!" She said, "There is a young girl who is about to be trafficked but she doesn't know! There is a man putting her on a motorcycle--what do I do?"

Christa, surrounded by pages of research into the issue, had nothing to offer her. "Pray?" She mumbled.

Moon clicked her tongue and sighed: "You pray, Christa. I am going to go grab her off the back of that bike."