Dear Friends,
First, I want to thank you for being a part of this Narrative. But you should know, this story is not just now beginning. It began many years ago, and speaking for myself, I have just been discovering bits of it each day. If you really think about it, this story is one in which we all share-- all of humanity I mean. It's the ultimate story. It's the story of Love.
Mission is nothing new. God has always had a Mission, and I think you know it well... or.. I hope you do. It's Love. He has always loved us, and when we receive His Love, we have the opportunity to join Him in His Loving others.
My earliest memory of my "calling" or.. role in this Mission, is from when I was 4. I was so disturbed by the abandonment of little girls in China. I couldn't understand why no one wanted them. And I declared to my mother that I would adopt them all. It made perfect sense at the time... When I turned 7, I "became a Christian." I put that in quotation marks because at that age, I was not sure exactly what that meant, but I knew that God loved me, and I knew I wanted to love Him back, because it only made sense that I should love One who loved me. Not long after this, an elderly missionary couple came to my church and talked to us about work they were doing in Africa (I think it was Africa). I remember at that time knowing that I wanted to be a part of this. I wanted to help other people like they did.
As I grew older, my heart for missions didn't go away. I was well aware of it from the end of middle school through high school--about the same time I knew that I would be attending Trevecca... someday. When I turned 16, a man visited my church from the Ukraine. He spoke to us about street children there, and how upset he felt about their homelessness. He sort of led the Nazarene Church in creating The House of James--a home for these children whom he wanted to serve. As I prayed for what he was doing there, I remember thinking, "better him than me. I can't handle the cold, and I never want to." Shortly after this (very shortly) I felt convicted of these thoughts... I knew God was telling me that a cold European country could very well be a part of my future, and I hoped with desperation that this would never come true.... and I thank God I don't always get what I hope for.
Well, I tiptoed around different possible jobs. For a long while I thought Youth Ministry would be for me... but it wasn't. I then considered teaching- I had been told many times that I was good at it, and that I should look into it. The more I thought about it, the more appealing it was to me. I have always adored children, so I had a plan.
A couple of weeks before graduation, a woman at my church approached me. She said, "Alex, I hear you plan on studying Education at Trevecca." I confirmed her statement with a nod and smile, not realizing how deep of an impact her next two statements would be for me. "Alex, elementary teachers are a dime a dozen. If you want to go where you are needed, please look into special education." She walked away right after speaking life-altering words. It was as though God had given her exactly the words I needed to hear. As a beloved professor would say, I wanted to be the water in the dry desert. I needed to go where I was needed.
Then.... Trevecca happened. Everything changed. My home church fell apart. My pastor moved away. My father left my life. I forced myself to step out of my comfort zone little by little, and sometimes, God pushed me when I needed it.... and when He did, it hurt very much. I questioned my calling. I hated Him for it. "God, why me?!"
I took a class called Global Children's Issues.
I challenge you to take this class without being moved to do something to bring justice and mercy to the world.
I learned about child soldiers. I learned about slavery. I learned about sexual trafficking. I learned about "the girl child." I learned about street children. I learned about the AIDS epidemic. I learned about all the different ways that children in the world were suffering and I fell into a deep suffocating depression. I couldn't sing in chapel anymore. I cried tears of anger and frustration. I remembered the face of a girl from one of the documentaries I watched and I scolded God-- "CAN YOU SEE HER? DO YOU HEAR HER CRIES? " And then for a long time I had no words. I only wept. I felt helpless and alone. There was so much change that needed to happen, and I didn't know what to do or where to begin. "God, where are you in this suffering world?"
I don't remember how it happened, but I guess at some point, He revealed the answer to this question to me. I guess it was through reading a book called, Compassion. I learned that this word compassion means "To suffer with." And I realized that God was in the tears of the girl in that documentary. God is in the hands of the child holding the gun. God is in the blood of the child with AIDS. God is in the skin of the child on the street. God is in the voice of the girl who has never had one. And God is in my screams of anger at the injustices in the world. But no sir, that is not all.
God didn't just give me a discontent. He gave me a WILL. He stirred my heart to action, and I can't contain the strength of His Kingdom breaking into this world. I can't help but be a part of it. When I viewed the film, Bulgaria's Abandoned Children, I had no doubt in my mind about what was to happen. Pieces of a puzzle that once lay in piles around me came together to form a part of a beautiful picture of what God has always had in mind for me. These children with special needs who are neglected and unloved and never held or spoken to in god-forsaken orphanages of Bulgaria are so dear to my heart. They are part of my soul and its as though my entire life thus far has been about loving them. In just a few months, you'll be seeing me happier than I have ever been, because I will finally be reunited with the part of my soul that is waiting for me in Bulgaria... I'll be reunited with my heart once again.
Love,
Alex
