Half-packed bags are laying around my room, full of the grungy t-shirts that I can't wait to wear, and endless receipts, binders and important documents (staffing a trip can be a bit stressful!) and I have so many thoughts as I prepare for my
fourth trip to Jamaica in the last eighteen months.
Of course--
OF COURSE--I'm excited. Counting down the hours (22.7), even. But also, I'm a little hesitant. A little unsure of what to expect this time around, a little uncomfortable (as always), a little of everything.
When I'm in Jamaica, I see Jesus. I see Him in the joy of the neighborhood children dancing and laughing; He fills the mamas mouths with wisdom and grace. And I see Him looking for shelter or asking for food as He walks among the poor. I see Him in the struggle to be freed of a "brickyard in Egypt" type of bondage. That is the beauty of our God embodied.
And I see change. I see the benefit of ten Americans who come to share in the journey. I remember seeing life spring up from nothing and I reflect on the lessons I've learned--I see how my heart and my worldview and my life itself have changed--by sharing in the journey, yes. But by sharing so many other things, too. Sharing of my material belongings, my finances, my comfort, my community, my love...
And yet, I always struggle with Jamaica. Is relationship development and dancing to Michael Jackson songs with 25 Jamaican kids enough? On some levels, yes. It is perfect. But I find myself wanting more out of it. I find myself hoping to see more with each visit--more than a nice visit with friends who have become family, more than the distribution of much-needed technology to the special education students who have, without question, changed my life. Those are good things, but I'm believing for more.
I want to acknowledge that what I'm working for--what I'm hoping and praying and dreaming for--is more than connection or the concept of "change." I'm closing my eyes and holding my breath and wishing for transformation. For my heart, for my family, my community, my workplace and of course, OF COURSE, Jamaica. (It's a natural extension of my heart by this point...)
And not transformed into a Caribbean America. That won't do. There is so much we can take away from unpaved and bumpy roads, cold showers and houses packed full of people. There is something to be said for that sometimes-inconvenient-simplicity that we work so hard to avoid in our everyday American lives. (I can't lie: I'm excited to escape the pressure of American technology and fashion and the need to be showered and done up at all times. I'm looking forward to far fewer showers and outfits and pigtails 24/7, and feeling beautiful just the same.)
What I would like to see is redemption--and not just in a Bob Marley song (though I have to admit, I've listened to it on repeat). I'd like to see the wounds of colonialism and imperialism stop bleeding for long enough to heal. I'd like to see a switch in religious ideology--from the "religion of my oppressors" to the love of a God who gives abundant life and removes the yoke of slavery. I would like to see justification, reconciliation, all of the other -ations that the Lord blesses us with so freely. I want to see the perfect love of God transform us, renew us, save us from the workings of a world bent on destruction.
Tomorrow I board a plane to fly a flight that feels so familiar. I'll get in Taxa's van to drive the familiar road to Logwood Walk. I'll carry my bags up familiar stairs and run to give Sanka a hug. I'll sit on a couch that became my place for naps in a home that became my home too. I'll walk to the school and sit with the special education students. I'll hope they remember my name because I could never forget them. I'll visit churches and break bread and enjoy the gift and the challenge that Jamaica has been to me. I will have my eyes open wide to the work of His hands as He continually seeps into my heart and brings the transformation that I long for in our broken world.
Updates to come. Prayers and encouragements always appreciated. :)
