A few weeks ago, a girl moved into our home. We have hosted university students before, as there are often international students who need a place to stay over the holidays. Most of the time they come from African countries. This time however, the student was from the northwest province of Xinjiang. You may have heard of the place in the news.
I was wary at first. There are things to consider when taking someone in and you have a house full of people already. There are teenagers. There are growing boys. There are younger children and a baby. There are only so many rooms. But there are other things to consider as well. There is the fact that this singular person has a need, and you are the one asked to fill it. There are opportunities to be taken, or sometimes missed. There are unknowns that must be acted on in wisdom, and sometimes faith.
This girl moved into our home and within the week discovered that the school she was waiting to return to would remain closed down for several more months. She would need a place to stay indefinitely. At the same time, we discovered that another wave of COVID cases was shutting down our own school for no one knows how long, and the kids would all be learning from home.
The other day, I saw an article headline that read, “Is COVID Over?” wherein the journalist went on to recount all the ways America is moving on from the restrictions of the past two years. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of envy, and an irritating underlying sense of doubt. How is it that we are still in this standstill? Still dealing with the prison-like conditions of this dumb disease? What are we even doing here? What is our life becoming?
Certainly the existential crisis I find myself in is sometimes overdramatic. Or, it is the result of weariness at the conditions we continually face. In either case, I am being brought to my knees repeatedly, having to learn again and again what it means to define our life not by the conditions of ease or opportunity but by the belief that we are in the place God means for us to be.
Which brings me back to this girl who was led to our home, and the place she comes from that is in many ways inaccessible to the world. It has been, in its own small way, a means of grace for all of us. We are restricted and yet here is this wide open door.
I wrote earlier of the feeding of the five thousand from Mark’s gospel. It is a beloved miracle to be sure. Who doesn’t like the idea of God making enough out of the little we have? The concept of multiplication done on a miraculous level is one that we pray for, hope for, long for on many an occasion. It’s interesting that Mark records two times where Jesus performs this powerful act. I take that as license to ruminate on the wonder of it as often as I like. And to imagine that this is one way the kingdom of God that is not of this world can and does operate in the here and now.
My favorite part of the story is when Jesus asks the disciples how much bread they have. As if, looking out over a sea of four thousand faces they could possibly produce any amount that would meet that need. Instead, his question just gives opportunity to show what he is willing to work with. Our depletion, our lack, is no obstacle. It is in fact where he most shows up.
Thank you. Your words are a balm, they are anointed. Keep writing!