20 Minutes Away.

For quite a while now I have been struggling with feeling like I am missing something.  Not like my wallet or keys, or even a favorite shirt.  Something more.  I feel as if there is a piece of my life, my story, that I am walking daily without. 

I dream about  being able to take time off of work whenever I feel the need to travel.  To attend a fundraiser.  I keep saying I need to go overseas and be part of a mission trip.  That I NEED to go to a third world country and be shaken back into the reality of despair in the world.  To be broken again for the lives that are just barely being lived.  To be struck with humility over how much I have and how much I can really be giving.  But here's the thing, I've been thinking that I need to leave where I am for the Lord to give me this shake-down. 

But this past Sunday I was awakened to how close this reality was to my home.  I joined a group of amazing, world-changers to visit a community no more than 20 minutes from my front door.  To drive to "The Gates of Hell" as some neighbors have dubbed it, and experience the brokenness for myself.  This visit was meant to be a time where I could see what the ministry was all about and if I was feeling led to be a part of it.  Ten minutes into being there and I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.  I've been to Haiti and have seen the devastation and poverty.  I've seen the despair.  But this was different.  I didn't spend 20+ hours traveling, or have to pack my life into one bag.  I didn't have to raise thousands of dollars in support by telling people how I was hoping to be used in that week.  I didn't need a translator to communicate with the kids (well, most of the time).  These kids spoke my language.  They responded directly to me when I talked to them.  They asked me who I was and I could tell them myself.  We could laugh at jokes that we both understood.  I could sit and listen to the prayer requests of middle school girls who are begging for daily needs to be met that I didn't give more than 2 seconds of thought to.  These kids are the ages of my brother and sister.  When one of the leaders told them I had something interesting about my family, one of the girls piped up and said "What, they rich?"  But when I told them that I had 8 siblings and 5 of them were black, the girls just stared at me.  No, we don't come from a well-off family.  And yes our electricity and water has been turned off before because we couldn't pay it. But no, I don't understand what it means to be hungry.  I don't understand what it means to live in a neighborhood like this.

But I do know what it means to feel so alone and hopeless like no one cares.  I know what it means to live a life without Christ and have no clue which way is up. 

Leaving there that night, I knew my heart was aching to go back already.  To use the gifts and resources I have been blessed with to help change a community.To pray for these children who were created with just as much care and attention as I was.  They deserve no less than the hopes and dreams that I have.  For safety and security.  For education and a future.  For healthy families and jobs. 

They deserve no less than me giving away the blessings I have received from the Lord.  Because they were not mine to begin with.  They were a gift given to me with the intention that I would pay it forward. 

While I do believe it is a courageous thing to travel across the globe to reach the broken (I am planning on going to Nicaragua in March myself) it is not absolutely necessary.  You can make an impact on the least of these 20 minutes away.  You can forever change your community and love the seemingly unloved day after day after day. You don't have to leave after a week, month or year.  You go back often.  You care for them when it is most needed and wanted. 

So go.  Make disciples of the people who are close to you now.  Go.  Make disciples of people on another continent.  Wherever the Lord is leading you, just go. 

He demands that we do so.  Let us learn to be obedient to His demands.  I pray that I am more and more obedient with each passing breath.