Come, and see

In John 1 we see two encounters over two days between John the Baptist and Jesus. On the second encounter two of John's disciples started walking after Jesus, when he noticed, he asked them, "What are you seeking?"

They replied, "Teacher, where are you staying?"

Jesus said: "Come, and you will see." 

They followed through and went and spent the day with him.

Like many of the conversations we see in Scripture, we don't get a full run-down of what's happening here, but think about that invitation of hospitality that Jesus gave: come and see.

This photo says "home" to me. I only lived there for two
years, during grades 11 and 12, but my parents have lived
 there for over 30 years. It's the only residence in my boys' lives that
hasn't changed. My parents are about to move to a smaller
 property. I'm very happy about that. But even so there is a little sadness
that this, a place that seems very "safe" to me, is not permanent.

Jesus still says "come" to us today. Do we hear him? I know I get too busy in the things I think ought to be going on, in ticking off things that are on my To Do list. I fret when I get a headache that sidelines me and makes me stop. I grumble when someone doesn't do something I expect them to do and the responsibility falls on my shoulders. I despair when things go contrary to plan and I have no way to make a new plan.

While I don't live a nomad-type-of expat life, I do live in a country where I am not a citizen. That means I live with a certain amount of non-permanency. There are times when I long for a permanent home. Do I turn to the only one who can offer that? Do I hear Jesus invitation to "come"?

In all of us there is a longing for home, for a real home, a safe place, a refuge from pain and betrayal, from disappointment and grief. A place where we are deeply loved no matter how we act, where we are nurtured and cheered on in our run for life. We look for this home in various concrete ways: the arms of family around us, walls and a roof with our name on the mailbox, an appreciative community at work, a loving spouse. (p.56, from Jane Rubietta's book*) 

The truth is that none of us live in a truly safe place. Bricks and mortar don't provide that, nor does a marriage ceremony, or a loving community. They can help, but ultimately they will fail.

Jesus's invitation reminds me of this proverb:
"The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe (Proverbs 18:10 ESV).

Yep, there's no other truly safe place. The only question that remains is: will I accept (and continue to daily accept) his invitation to come and see?

* Note: This is part four in my series of reflections on the word "Come" that Jesus used, originating from the book Come Closer: A Call to life, Love, and Breakfast on the Beach.

There are things worse than death

John Piper doesn't mince words in this excellent article about raising kids in a missionary lifestyle. The truth is that there are worse risks for our children than death. This is simple Bible-reality. It is not complex or hard to grasp. But not easy either.

"There are things vastly worse than death. Wasting your life is worse than losing it." John Piper

We were shocked at people's reactions when we announced in the midst of preparing to come to Japan that I was pregnant. We had people ask if that changed our plans! 

It didn't at all. And, 19 years later, I don't regret bringing my children up in Japan either. It's surely it's been a challenging journey, though there's not saying whether it would have been that much less challenging in Australia. But they've had opportunities that they wouldn't have had in Australia. But probably the biggest thing is that they've seen us rely on the Lord through the journey. They've witnessed firsthand their parents take the not-so-safe road.

Here are some other posts I've written about risk and parenting:

• Safety and stability are an illusion: http://mmuser.blogspot.jp/2015/09/stability-is-illusion.html
• This is a book review, a book in which the author admits: "I faced the reality that God did not evaluate my  mothering by how perfectly or imperfectly my children developed. Rather, he expected me to address how I influenced my children by how I yielded to his love for me and then acted it out in life. Period. He did not ask me to control their responses, their choices, or their consequences."
• This one I wrote just last month, reflecting that though there are some risks in my lifestyle, I don't need to be afraid: Risk-taking, or not

Stability is an illusion

Today I've been out most of the day meeting with people. A great day, but not for blogging. I found this blog post some time ago and it resonated with me: Longing for a better country

A quote:

But if there is one thing this life has taught me, it’s that I must hold loosely to everything.  Everything.  I can’t put down roots anywhere; I will never find stability.   Even if I spend my whole life here, I will never be allowed citizenship of this country.  I will never be allowed to own property here; I will never grow old in one house.  I may someday have to evacuate with the clothes on my back.  Or, I could just get robbed blind.

I’m reminded that I can’t love this life so tightly.  This life is not all there is, and it’s definitely not worth fretting over.  After all, can I ever ensure the protection of my earthly treasures?  Even if I was to live my entire life in one house in America, would I be guaranteed stability and safety?  It’s just an illusion, and my transient life as a foreigner helps me to remember that reality.

Today over lunch with Japanese friends safety came up. Is it safer in Australia or the US or Japan? Disasters continue to occur in Japan, for example, some freak flooding last week, and then an earthquake out in Tokyo Bay on Saturday morning. The prediction that "the big one" (earthquake) is coming to Tokyo soon continues to be proclaimed by authorities and the media.

But again I come back to the truth that safety is an illusion. I could be hit by a bus tomorrow. There are some things I can do to prevent that possibility, but I don't have 100% control over what happens.

Stability is also an illusion. I can set up a stable lifestyle. Do my best to provide routine and put my roots down as best I can. But as the author above says, my best isn't enough. We were heading for a nice level of stability a fortnight ago when one of my kids developed an infection that landed him (and us) in hospital. Bam. Stability in the short-term smashed.

As missionaries we are confronted more than many people by a lack of stability. Many missionaries are envious of the stability in our lives currently: that we've moved back into the same house that we lived in last term. Most missionaries don't get to spend more than four years in the same house.

There is a blessing in all this, though, it helps us to lift our eyes up and find our treasure, our security, stability in our Lord. To find peace in the midst of the knowledge that our safety could be at risk, we're thrown onto our Lord.

2 Samuel 22:32-34New International Version (NIV)

32 

For who is God besides the Lord?

    And who is the Rock except our God?

33 

It is God who arms me with strength

    and keeps my way secure.

34 

He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;

    he causes me to stand on the heights.