Miscellaneous

Honestly, I'm not really sure what to say, but I know people want to hear from me so here I go. The past two weeks have flown by, we have been pretty busy but at the same time it doesn't feel like anything out of the ordinary has happened to share about. Maybe I am finally becoming somewhat accustomed to the culture to where life just seems normal now, or maybe just my daily routine feels normal. Part 1 I continue to play soccer with the girls a few times a week. I just kind of show up at the house of a pastor and say "balé" and he goes and find some girls and we walk over to the field. More and more girls show up over time. I just stand around and shake peoples hands and communicating when I can. We usually talk about how my hair is too soft and slippery to braid/carry things on my head, or argue about what team I am on, or how we have to start playing soon because the rain is coming. They ask about the scars on my feet and if i will be back to play tomorrow. Most other conversations I end up saying I don't know in lingala while giving a shoulder shrug. They start explaining all over again, this time with hand motions, the girls all laugh and give up on me after a few tries. Teams are eventually made and we start playing. The good thing is once we have started playing the language barrier disappears for the most part. I have learned enough words in lingala to communicate and the language of soccer does the rest and so we just play. My stamina, however, is not nearly as good as theirs, either that or they expect/ want more from me on the field. After playing for a while I get tired and start to slow down, I don't make as many plays and one of the girls gets on my case about it. She yells "Anna! Anna!" I look at her and she throws her arms up in the air and points to the ball as if to say "Hanna! What is wrong? Why aren't you playing better!? Come on, we need you to make some plays." I usually pick up the pace for a while and then slow back down and the process starts all over again. I love playing with them and I think they enjoy playing with me too :) The last day playing with them will definitely be a sad one. Later this afternoon the girls I have been playing with have a game against girls from another part of the city and I have been invited to play. Part 2 I said something in my last post about the church as a whole here and how I cant even begin to process it all yet. I am still frustrated with it and probably will be for a while but a friend of mine wrote to me about it and reminded me that the church here is not mine its Gods. That He will claim it, that He will bring justice for his word and He will bring light into the darkness within the church. And that the pastor who admitted to not wanting to share the fullness of the bible is still loved and forgiven. I need to be reminded time and time again that our battle is not against flesh and blood (Eph 6:12). So often I want to fight the battle going on right in front of me and fix everything to the way I think it should be but it is not my battle to fight. I continue to find hope and freedom in the fact that the ultimate battle has already been won and that one day all things will be made new (Rev 21:5). And to that I say "Come, Lord Jesus, Come." Part 3 July 9, 2013 Blake (a missionary friend with wycliff associates) is going to zongo /bangui in central Africa republic tomorrow morning at 4am. It is about a 12 hour ride each way that he is doing over a 2-3 day span. So a 24 hour ride in 48-72 hours. So naturally I asked if I could go with him. Hannah decided a few days later she wanted to go too. Originally it was going to be a motorcycle ride, which then got changed to a car ride because all of Gemena is out of gas so we are bringing back drums of gas for Blake's work. Something inside me wanted to go, which is weird because I hated traveling to gbatolite. And that was only 8 hours. So why the heck would I ASK to go on a 12 hour trip!?! The whole motorcycle rides was a real motivation but the car will have to do. July 14, 2013 And this is how it really went down.... Our chauffeurs on Two motorcycles arrived promptly at 3:30am at Christines house to pick us up and take us to Blake's house and from there we all jumped in the truck and headed out into the darkness for the ten hour drive. Five people in the cab of the car and two men in the bed of the truck We stopped for registration and coffee and about 3 hours in, and by this I do not mean stopped for starbucks although that would have been lovely. There was a women with a pot (literally a pot, not a coffee pot) of pre-made coffee and a stack of plastic mugs on the side of the road. Two small benches and a covering stood behind this women and so six of us squeezed in and enjoyed some hot sugary coffee and peanuts for a few minutes before getting back on the road. The seventh person was security for the truck at this time. At about the half way point we pulled into a church with a guesthouses and ask if we could stay there the following night on our way home, they said they would make the preparations and food would be ready as well. We continued on and with 2 1/2 hours left we came to a full and complete stop. For 2 hours. A bridge was being repaired by the UN and there was no way around it. So we waited, and watched and some of the guys helped. We ate food from "vendors" or "small businesses" on the side of the road and some even slept. A huge log lay in the middle of the dirt road with 50 some guys surrounding it and a truck was backed up to the log on the other side of the bridge. A chain connected the log to the truck and after much discussion between the 50 men,the truck would start up and the log would be pulled. All the guys would start yelling and yelling because the log had gone off course but the driver couldn't hear the shouting at first so more damage would be done. Over and over again the log would be pulled, realigned, the situation re-evaluated and the pulling would begin again. Eventually the log was in place and other logs were rearranged and the bridge was done. We all jumped back in the truck, payed some people to "maintain the relationship" and the finally made it to Zongo after a few other sketchy bridges and a very bumpy road. The rest of that trip is another story for another time but lets just say the two day trip turned into a four day trip because of continuous setbacks that seem to be normal reoccurances in this culture. Part 4 The Count: Days left: 6 Nights left: 5 Malaria pills: 13 Road kill: 2 chickens, 1 chick, 1 dog, 1 baby goat, and, 1 baby pig. (That's not too bad for 2 months. The animals around here must have 9 nine lives). Cinnamon rolls: Too many to count but I would guess between the two of us we are close to 100. When was the last time you ate 50 cinnamon rolls in 2 months? People to see, eat with, and say goodbye to: Too many

The Truth is...

The truth is...

It is hard for me to hear God's voice here. 

The beauty of this country is drowned out by squeeling pigs on the back of bikes, crying babies sitting lonely outside the house, and the fact that death lurks around every corner.

I still do not fully understand my purpose in being here and that it itself makes it hard to be here.

Hannah and I have pillow talk almost every night, trying to process what we have experienced and every night I fall asleep feeling like I have 50 years of processing left to do.

Any answer I thought I had about this country was wrong. I am no expert and I don't know if I want to be because all of that knowledge is just too heavy, and too much to handle.

This last month has been long, hard, good, depressing, life-sucking, beautiful, horrifying, exciting, memorable, and exhausting. So if I ever tell you time in the Congo was just good, I'm lying.

The truth is...

My heart doesn't ache the way I thought it would.

It is not the poverty that is wreaking havoc in my heart, it is the church. It is the fact that the Bible isn't being taught well, and that out of 300 women not one had heard the story of Deborah. That a pastor admitted that it is easier if the people don't know the fullness of bible and that offering has been made into a competition in order to bring more money in. I can deal with the poverty and the reality of death on a daily basis but I cant process the churches issues. Not yet at least.

I am tired and want a mini vacation but we are in the jungle and there is no where to go. 

Countries sending money need Congo just as much as Congo THINKS they need that money.

One of my favorite moments in the last month has been holding a baby named priscillia and praying over her life as she smiled, laughed and slept in my arms. Maybe it was one of my favorite moments because language didn't matter for once, or because her little smile made all the other distressing things invading my mind disappear,  or maybe simply because I love holding babies. I guess it doesn't really matter the reason why, but for an afternoon I was happy to be sweaty with tired arms from holding this precious little life.

I don't want to sit through another three plus hour church service where I cant understand anything, I dont know the music and I don't like to dance. Not to mention having to sit in the front row or worse, behind the pulpit, and having to try to look engaged for the entire service. Did I mention half the congregation is napping during the sermon as well?

I have/find little joy in being here.

It is hard to just BE in the presence of God, even in a country where there is nothing else for me to do.

The devil has been knocking on the door since the day we stepped foot in Congo. And he is working hard to pry the door open. Some days if feels like he is climbing in the window and other days we feel like we have him on lockdown. But the truth is...we are tired. Tired of the constant battle of trying endlessly to hold all the doors and windows shut.

I'm excited for the day I can look back on these two months in Gemena and see what the purpose was and how it affected my life.

I know that my coming here was not a mistake and that is a truth I need to hold tightly to.

I'm sorry that this blog is not some light weight, happy go lucky, easy and encouraging read, but this is how I feel.  And people need to know that this last month has been hard and the next month probably will be too. I think everyone knew this trip would be challenging, but it has proved to be challenging for all different reasons than I anticipated.

I do not for one second regret coming here, you need to know that. This last month has taught me more than I could have ever imagined, the hard part is figuring out what to do with the knowledge I have been given. I feel as though I know more than I should and I'm drowning in the realities of the complicated mess Congo calls life.

There are good days and hard, long days and the above portion of this blog was written on a hard, long day when I was just not feeling it. And now as I sit here writing the rest of this blog my time here doesn't seem so bad. I don't want to discredit the bad days because those feelings were and are still real but I have wrestled with actually posting this blog because that is not how I feel today.

Today I feel like there is more hope. I have woken up the last two morning and decided to chose joy over counting down the days, and to chose joy throughout the long church services amongst other things. I have choosen joy, and will try to continue to choose joy throughout the next month. I'm not saying there wont be days that are hard but that all of the days don't have to be so much like the day I was having when I wrote the first half of this blog.

The truth is... there is joy in the Lord, and I want His joy more than any other superficial and temporary joy that the world has to offer me.

More Pictures!

I am getting better at being Congolese!

This is Hannah's adopted little sister's sister, Pricillia. Sleepy baby.

Futbol

Playing futbol/bale/soccer with the girls here is like playing with fast 10 year olds. There is competition and understanding of the rules but the fundamentals have not been practiced. Their speed allows them to keep up but they have to slow down to pass or shoot, allowing me time to catch up :) There are two positions, goalie and field players. Meaning everyone plays offense and nobody likes to get back on defense so I find myself sprinting back often.

Playing at such a young level I see the value and desire to play offense. It is a chance to be praised. An opportunity for success. And the desire to feel valued is often met after scoring a goal. Playing offense is a break from these girls daily defensive lives.

After being here for 3 plus weeks,  I have noticed that this culture, for the most part, is constantly playing defense. Defense primarily against death with survival being the goal.

For example, food. Dinner may or may not be had around a table. Talking is limited to "Can you pass the ..." and the food is the same for every meal. Food is for energy it does not mean fellowship like it does to me. Food is for survival. Another example is children. Parents have many children to insure they are taken care of later on in life. In fact it is somewhat expected that some children will die from accidents or disease. The risk of not being cared for is calculated out and the equation equals out to having more kids to insure their survival. 

You see, in my opinion it is easier to play defense. Offense requires practiced fundamental skills. It requires trial and error and bouncing back after failure. It requires time. Defense, simply put, is just prevention.

The United States and other countries are coming in and giving money with the attempt at getting the Congolese people to play offensively, but they have been trained their entire lives to play defense. We are trying to switch their mentality to think offensively but the field is long and the grass is so deep. The word "sustainability" gets thrown around often and I am beginning to see it as playing offense. Sustainability is the chance to succeed. The opportunity to be praised but it proves to be a hard goal to reach.

I think it will be a long time before Congo starts playing offensively but for now soccer is a small but great opportunity for these girls to play offense; and I will continue to play defense every game if that's what it takes to allow them to succeed, to feel valued and to be praised for something even as small as a goal in this game of life.

Thank you to all of you who are reading my blogs, even as I ramble and process things :)
I am so thankful to have such a great team supporting me!

A big shout out to my dad for fathers day from Congo! (If you see him give him a hug from me, he is not a big hugger but just do it anyway because he likes hugs from me!)

Follow Hannah's blog too!

hannahinthecongo.wordpress.com

Follow Hannah too! She has a great perspective and between the two of us hopefully you can get a better understanding of what we are doing.

Pictures

This man is the only professionally trained Radiologist within hundreds of miles. He works at a hospital in Karawa.

Painted the nails of some BOYS at the Orphanage :)

I am cleaning out a gash that this little girl had in the bottom of her foot.

It was painful but she is happier now!

X ray machine in Karawa

Hospital beds... the will lay a grass mat over the springs because they dont have mattresses.

Narrow roads way out in the jungle.  Our Driver wasn't honking enough and we ran a motorcyclist off the rode into the bushes. There were two men, a women with a baby on this motorcycle. Hannah and I freaked out. Everyone was okay but it was scary for us, this is normal life here though.

a few comments/thoughts.

Here are some bullet points of my first full week in Gemena (mostly because I don’t know what to write J)

•       I love playing soccer here. But I am not good so I stick to playing with the kids.
• · The rain here is AWESOME! It has only rained twice so far but it is crazy. It is a relentless downpour for about 20 minutes and then it is gone. But it is cooler when the rain comes so that is a plus
• ·      At most events Hannah and I are asked to give a few words to go along with our welcoming and as much as I dislike public speaking I am getting used to it. I am waiting for the day they ask me to preach… im not looking forward to that as much.
• ·       We are currently in Karawa, about 2 hours away from Gemena with a group of 7 mendele who are here from a covenant church in Chicago on a week long vision trip.
• ·      Language is a crazy and amazing thing and I am continually amazed and grateful for a God that understands the hundreds of languages of the world.
• ·      Hannah and I both thought that we were getting whiter here (which is weird because we are very close to the equator)… and then we realized the “background” has changed so our perception of “tan” has changed as well.
• ·      To address my attempt to not sweat while here: I failed. Today specifically has been very hot and I don’t think I have stop sweating since I woke up. Hopefully the rain is coming soon and bringing some cooler temperatures with it.
• ·      I do not like mosquito nets! They make sleeping so much hotter!! But I am thankful I have one because I think it would be miserable to be sick here.
• ·      There are 3 refrigerators in Gemena. Two are at the missionaries houses. And one is here at our hosts homes.
• ·      The soil in congo is some of the most naturally rich soil in the world.
• ·      The mangos are out of this world.
• ·      I sleep about 9 hours a night…  it might be a rough transition back to the college life.
• ·      Girls do not sit with their legs crossed here ( only men). I have to correct myself often to find a different way to sit.
• ·      Hannah and I have agreed that one of our favorite things about Gemena is that it feels like family. We can say hi to anyone, or step into the home of anyone while we wait for a ride. We feel safe. We feel like part of the Congolese family.
• ·      God is teaching me to be completely satisfied in His presence. It is not easy, but I am slowly learning. He reminds me that it is not the amount of “work” I do here but it is  the fact that I am in his presence that matters, that my desire for a schedule is not as important as being able to say “Lord whatever “schedule” you have for me today is better than whatever I could have possibly planned.”

More to come,

H

Mbote

Mbote! (Hello in Lingala)

Sango nini? (what news?)

That is about the extend of my knowledge about the language of Lingala. I am learning though, slowly but surely. I am determined to come back able to have a conversation in lingala, even if that conversation is broken up and childish.

I am literally living in a village in the jungle, roads are bumpy, and the homes are made straight from the earth and I love it. Gemena is so full of color and character. The dirt is deep reddish/orange and the plants are green like I have never seen before. The people have huge smiles on their faces and have such excitement to see mandele (a white person). Children stop what they are doing and yell, “mendale! Mendele!” as we drive by while others (mostly men from what I have noticed) look at us like they have just seen an elephant climbing a tree, shocked to see white people. Not only are we white but we are in vehicles which is rare, I have yet to see a vehicle that has not been related to the church that we are working with and even at that I think the total would be no more that 4 vehicles.

Today we start working with the orphanage and later on in the week some sports ministry stuff should get going once Joel gets back in town. I am hoping to also design and build a simple play structure for the orphanage while I am here.

Prayer requests:

-       -that our time here would be used efficiently and effectively

-       -for stomachs of steel, we are getting used to the food here and we don’t want food to be an issue

-       -that God would be glorified in everything we do, no matter how big or small

-      - that in our weaknesses God’s strength would be shown and evident to the people here and to us.

-       -For Lingala to come easily to Hannah and I (we desperately want to be able to communicate with the people here)

-       -For growth in me and my relationship with God, to have a child like faith in him to do the unimaginable.

-       -For special down time from God (as an introvert in a culture that is so charismatic, talkative and energetic it can be hard to keep up. So pray for divine appointments from God that would renew me and give me energy when I need it.

Praise God:

-      - for safe travels and no complications

-       -for the generosity of the Sangumas for letting us stay in their home for 2 months ( we are living luxuriously compared to the rest of this town with running water, flushing toilets, toilet paper, beds, vehicles, some electricity, and more food than we could ever desire (we are having to turn food away because we have been eating so much, so often).

-       -aFor the opportunity to come to Gemena and learn from these amazing people.

We made it! Almost.

Hannah and I got to Kinshasa, Congo (the capital) last night and we have one more flight to Gemena tomorrow morning with Mossai. Today we are suppose to be seeing the city of Kinshasa as well as a University that Mossai teaches at. We both are so excited to be here, especially after 36+ hours of traveling and cannot wait to see what this country has to offer us!

Opened up my bible last night and a piece of paper with these lyrics fell out.

Come away with me, come away with me
Its never too late, its not too late for you
I have a plan for you, I have a plan for you
its gonna be wild, its gonna be great
its gonna be full of me.

I thought they were so fitting for this adventure. It is going to be wild, and it is going to be great but even better it is going to full of God.

Until next time :)
H

Bring on the Heat

My brain is telling me right now that it is hot outside. It is 74 degrees outside. 74. I am not prepared for the heat that Gemena has to offer me.  After realizing that I thought that 74 degrees was hot, and laughing at myself knowing what I was  getting myself into I looked up the weather for the week in Gemena. The "highs" for the week are all above 90 and the "lows" do not fall below 70. Currently at 8pm it is 74 degrees there. Not to mention the high levels of humidity that accompany the heat. The weather was no secret when I said yes to this trip, it is something I won't be able to escape from, something I will need to learn to deal with and not survive from because after all I am there for two months and so if survival is my method of living it simply will not go well.

I realize that I cannot be fully prepared for this trip and the heat is a small example of that. I want to be prepared, I love to be prepared for what is to come, that is just how God made me but the more I sit here thinking about the trip I am about to embark on tomorrow the more I realize how unprepared I am. I think and hope I am prepared as one can be to go on a trip such as this, but there are so many unknowns that I simply can't prepare for, and that is okay. I am excited for the unknowns and to look back and see how God did indeed prepared me for this trip whether I realized it then or not.

 After saying some goodbyes to people this week  I was getting back in the car and someone yelled out; "Try not to sweat!"  I think I am going to try that out. I'll let you know how it goes.

Im going to CONGO!!!

"Look at the nations, watch and be amazed for I am going to do something in your day that your would not believe, even if you were told" - Habakkuk 1:5

About seven or so years ago Hannah Gaddini gave me this verse on a ripped up piece of paper the night before we left for annual high school Mission trip. I don't remember why she gave this to me or what she said after, but it struck a cord within me, and continues to every time I read it, which is often :) Now, seven years later, Hannah and I are heading to the Democratic Republic of Congo for two months. Sitting here in my dorm, looking back to just a few months ago, I would have never guessed that such an adventure would take place this summer, let alone for two months. I am convinced that this is the smallest of surprises that will take place along this journey and that is so exciting! 

Bare with me through my ramblings:

This trip is not about bringing God to the Congo. He is already there.

This trip is not about how many things we can fix, or how many "things" we can pack into a bag to give away.

This trip is about God. It is about what he wants to do. It is about His Love. His Grace. Serving him by whatever means He asks of us. It is about learning from the Congolese people, how they love, how they serve, how they see and experience God. It is about being relational. It is about being obedient to Gods calling and being open to what He asks of us next. It is about laying myself down for Him completely. Surrendering.

 Pray with me! 

Pray for:

• All my motivation that has been lost for classes to return so that I can finish the year out well! ( I am ready to go to Congo… like tomorrow… not so good for my school motivation.)
• Preparing for the known and unknown
• mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally
• for me as I wrestle with how to prepare for the unknown, that I would allow God to be in control.
• preparing my heart for all that he has planned
• that I would prayerfully seek Gods face as I move towards this adventure and throughout the two months in country 
• Pray for ears to hear what God has for us on moment by moment basis
• That my actions would be aligned with God's heart, that our actions would speak louder than our words
• That we would "smell like Jesus" -  the aroma of Christ would be ever present to the people of Congo.
• That we would be helpful to the people of Gemena and not harmful. Hannah and I are very mindful of how sometimes when we (as Christians) try to help people but we are really hurting and hindering them unintentionally. So while our intentions are good, the end results in not necessarily benefitting the Kingdom of God.
• Pray for safety, for this is not the safest place for two females to be traveling. Hannah and I are not fearful of living and traveling in this country because we both know that we are in Gods hands and that he is fully capable of protecting us but we will be cautious nonetheless.

This is my prayer over the next 4 months:

" May the Words of my Mouth" - Tim Hughes 

"May the words of my mouth and thoughts of my heart 

Bless your name, bless your name, Jesus

And deeds of the day and the truth in my way 

Speak of you, speak of you, Jesus.

For this is what I'm glad to do

Its time to live a life of love that pleases you

And I will give my all to you

Surrender everything I have and follow you.

I'll follow you.

Lord,  will you be my vision

Lord, will you be my guide

Be my hope, be my light, and the way.

And ill look not for riches or praises on earth

Only you'll be the first on my heart.

For this is what I'm glad to do

Its time to live a life of love that pleases you

And i will give my all to you

Surrender everything I have and follow you.

I'll follow you."

Thank you for praying with me throughout this adventure. I believe in the power of prayer and I am so appreciative for each and every one of you who is partnering with me!

We are 5 1/2 weeks out!

Will you marry me? - Jesus

 I found this on Tenth Avenue North's website. It's long but well worth the time.

The disciples must have thought Jesus was crazy. Seriously. I can only imagine their faces. So confused, so perplexed, uncomfortably glancing back and forth between each other, wondering if they had misheard, wondering if someone could help them understand. Meanwhile, you got Jesus, unnerved, unfazed, just sitting there cooly, looking them dead in the eyes, asking them to marry Him. Yes, you heard me right…marry Him. With nothing more than a cup of wine, no less, the Lamb of God was proposing. So you can imagine their confusion right? “Wait. What? Come again? Jesus, you feeling alright brotha? I mean, I don’t think that I’m exactly what you’re looking for! You want to think about what you’re saying for a minute?”

Of course, we don’t see it that way, because we’re not Jewish. But they were, and they did. See it that way, I mean. “Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” We hear these words and we think Communion, Eucharist, Last Supper. The disciples heard this and they’re thinking wedding bells.

Apparently, “In those days,” when a Hebrew man decided to take for Himself a Hebrew woman, he’d go to his father and say, “Her, Dad. I want to make little rabbis with her.” So then the dad would go to her dad and they’d talk camels, or sheep, or whatever the payment was going to be, and after they’d settled on a figure, the groom would call in all his friends and family, set a table in the middle of a room, set the aforementioned girl down in front of said table, break out a cup, fill it with wine, and set it in front of her saying, “This is my covenant with you, take and drink it.” And if she did, that was her answer. With a simple gulp and swig, she was saying, “I do,” and that was it. No rings, no fancy songs or dinners, just a cup and an invitation. And oh yeah, all their relatives sitting in the room watching. I mean, talk about pressure. But yeah, that was it. Her lips to the glass was the same as saying, “I accept your life, and I give you mine in return.”

Now, If the girl said yes, “in those days,” she would then go immediately back to her home, where she would be known as, “one who was bought with a price.” It’s true. That was her name. Kind of long and tedious, and extremely hard to shout out in a game of soccer, but that was it. And with her new identity, she would go back to her town, and start preparing for the wedding. And really, she’d just start waiting for her future husband to finish what he had to do and come and get her. What was he doing? Well, during the engagement, the groom’s primary responsibility was to build a mansion for him and his bride to be.

Now girls, before you get too excited, let me explain. “Mansion” in Hebrew means, “apartment.” And what’s even better is that this apartment was actually more like an addition, because the groom would build it onto his parents pre-existing house. Yes. You heard me correctly. Their first home would be with the in-laws. And right now, I can just imagine how many girls are thinking, “oh please don’t let me marry a Jewish boy.” It’s true though. He would build his “mansion” onto the family “insula,” which is what they would call the family dwelling. You see, the entire family would just keep building on and building on until you had what was basically a city block, all comprised of one big bustling Jewish family. (And you thought My Big Fat Greek Wedding was bad) Crazy, but also true.

Well, as you can imagine, this process could take quite a while. I mean, it’s a house for crying out loud. Some scholars say it was six months, or even a year before the poor guy was finished. And get this, the only one who could decide if it was finished was the father. So he’d be working and working and working, and every day looking to his dad, saying, “Are we done yet?” And I can just imagine the father messing with him. Taking his time, looking it over, and then just saying, “Almost.” Could you imagine? Oh, the agony! And to top it all off, the groom and the bride weren’t even allowed to talk to each other. Nothing. Nada. Zip. They couldn’t see or speak to one another during the entire engagement, except for one outlet. The best man. He’d be the instant messenger if you will. Taking notes back and forth between the doting couple. And those moments were probably pretty funny. “Here’s your note, ‘one who was bought with a price.’ Check yes, no, or maybe.” Unbelievable.

But you know, how much more beautiful would that day be when the father finally approved? That day when the groom was finally finished, and he could gather up his homeboys, or ‘groomsmen’ as we westerners would say, and imperiously march into his fiance’s town? Oh it was sweet. And that’s just what he’d do. He’d get his bridal party together and they’d come to her house, and without any prior announcement or advanced warning, they would blow a shofar, which was a ram’s horn that served as a trumpet, and upon hearing it, the pining bride would come bustling out her front door and practically straight down the aisle, and into her beloved’s arms. The period of waiting and wanting would be over, and the two would be united at last to consummate their long-awaited union. Joy. Happiness. Little Rabbis… You know, all the good stuff.

So then, back to the dinner table with the 12. Can you sense where this is going? Jesus breaks into this marriage proposal, cup out, wine-filled, offering his covenant with them. They accept. “I do” to Jesus. Gulp, gulp. “I accept your life, and I give you mine in return.” So then, what does Jesus do? He explains how they have to spend some time apart. Naturally. Only this is going to be longer than a year. However, the best man was coming. His name? The Holy Spirit. So when Jesus leaves, off to get busy preparing a “mansion” for them, (“in my Father’s house there are many rooms”) He doesn’t leave them alone, but instead sends His own mediator, the Holy Spirit, to keep the messages going between Himself and his Beloved. Meanwhile, the bride is left behind in her town, keeping watch, day and night, not knowing the day, time or hour that the bridegroom will appear. Until finally, after a long-awaited return, and we’re talking seriously, long awaited; centuries and milleniums waited people, after this much awaited consummation, the Father alone will announce that the time has come, and Jesus will be coming back for all His faithful, all who are His bride. With a posse of angels and loud trumpet call of their own, He will take us home, to the marriage supper of the Lamb! And we will share in ever-increasing joy and intimacy with Him forever and ever. As C.S. Lewis so brilliantly articulated, “Further up and further in!”

And people still want to insist that Christianity is no more than a religion.

I don’t know about you but in light of this information, it puts Jesus in an entirely different light. He’s no longer an ideal, or a belief system. He’s a person. And to put it more precisely, He is a groom in love with his bride. And not just any bride, but a wayward, adulterous bride. A bride who is half-hearted at best, chasing other lovers and other interests more than Him. And still, He keeps on loving. He keeps on being faithful, He keeps his promises.

In the Old Testament, He tells his prophet Hosea to marry an unfaithful woman, to show everyone the way He loves his people. (see Hosea 3) In the New, He tells us that divorce will never be an option for Him. (Phil 1:6) Over and over and over again, From Isaiah, to Ezekiel, to Ephesians, He tells us that we are not just his children, but we are his bride. Faithless though we might be, we are His, and He is ours.

And like I said before, this changes everything. It changes the way I view prayer. It changes the way I view marriage. It even changes the reasons that I obey. As Donald Miller once said, “it’s a far different thing to break a rule, than it is to cheat on a lover.” I only pray that it changes things for you.