On being uncomfortable

It's hard to believe there are only two months left of my time in Hungary. The last nine months have been filled with moments of healing, love, joy, disappointment, peace, restlessness, and faith. I have been surprised and challenged. And I have most certainly been uncomfortable.

This afternoon, I scrolled past an article from Living Lutheran regarding the season of Pentecost. The article offers more questions than answers, per usual, and you can read it yourself, here: http://www.livinglutheran.org/2016/05/winds-change-fire-passion/

While I found myself slightly annoyed with the amount of questions (there are a LOT of them), I was struck by the convicting tone of this challenge:

"This Pentecost, may the Holy Spirit blow us out of our comfort zones into new places and new spaces to engage people we have never engaged before. May we be ignited with new ways to serve to bring about the mission of God in our communities."

Talk about being uncomfortable.

God doesn't seem to let me be comfortable for too long. Lately, every time I begin to feel comfortable, I'm thrown into an oblivion of uncomfortableness. And every time, I say (usually out loud) "seriously, God? Again??? How many times do we have to do this uncomfortable thing?"

Of course, like any curious human being, I ask the "why" question: "Why can't you just let me be comfortable?"

The truth is, as human beings, we like to know why things are happening the way they are and at the moment they happen. It makes many of us uncomfortable to not know what is next. We like to know why things work or do not work. In fact, we have been conditioned to think this way... Well, at least I have.

However, whenever I ask "why," I end up running into a wall and I become frustrated.

So, I've decided to change the question. Instead of "why," I ask: "What are you trying to teach me or show me right now, God?"

I am constantly learning that it is in the uncomfortable where we grow and learn the most. We have to bask in the sea of uncomfortableness in order to arrive at the shore of where we'd like to be. Unfortunately, "basking" is easier said than done, as the sea can and will move us in unexpected and sometimes undesired directions. But with patience, trust, and a little help... well, a lot of help... we will make it safely to the shore to begin the next adventure. 



May the winds of the Holy Spirit lead us to break down boundaries that divide. May the fire of the Holy Spirit ignite us to speak life to a broken world. And may the sea of God's love fill us, challenge us, and lead us as we work to offer more love to the world.

Today, I was beautifully reminded of words I had forgotten:

"I am glad you are here."

This morning, I joined my friend Zoli for a few of the religion classes he teaches at the school. I had wanted to go (the kids are hilarious... Even when I don't understand everything that is being said), and I was happy to be there. As I was about to leave, he said "I'm glad you came!" I will admit that his kind statement surprised me but only because I often convince myself that I don't need to hear statements like these from those people with whom I interact. I responded with "I'm glad I came too!" This simple statement left me feeling loved and appreciated, and reminded me why I find relationships so important. 

Since then, I have been pondering what it would be like if we all said "I'm glad you are here" to those we encounter everyday, and to those who are different from us. How would our global conversations change if we verbally told each other how happy we are to see or meet one another? How would our world grow if we met each other with open minds and open hearts instead of fear and uncertainty? 

Here's what you need to know, dear friends:
I am thankful for the opportunity to know you and to have met you in this lifetime. Thank you for being exactly who you are. I am glad you are here.