This past weekend started off "early" with a half-day on Friday. Usually, half-days are very pleasant and I am eager to be done, but knowing that I was headed to an unexpected funeral, I was dressed in black and calmly awaiting the lunch hour. Last Thursday afternoon, as I was dreaming about the clock hitting 5:30 pm, I received a message alerting my church congregation that a former member's father had passed away. Immediately, I thought, "No, this can't be about that Joanna. Do I even know another Joanna?" I was in disbelief, and that feeling was amplified because of the fact that my friend was studying abroad in Chile this semester. After I had confirmed that the news was indeed regarding the same Joanna, OUR Joanna--the one I used to drop off at home after church on Fridays, the one who was always laughing and joking despite what was going on at home, I felt an overwhelming sadness in my heart.
I had never met or even seen Joanna's father in the ~10 years I have known and lived minutes from Joanna. He was always working. Typical of many Asian parents, right? The only thing I knew about him was that he worked a lot (hence the reason he never made it to church or maybe it's the other way around), and I began to question...then hope that he was saved, almost for Joanna's sake. The faded memory of my grandmother passing away began to sharpen in my mind. For days I felt incredibly guilty and incompetent as a Christian and granddaughter. If only I had listened to her, done my chores, or talked with her more. We always realize when it's too late. Why is that? I wonder if Joanna was feeling the same....though I had seen her mature immensely throughout her high school years and experience struggles that teenagers shouldn't have to face at that age, I wondered if she felt guilty. Not as a daughter, but as a Christian.
If people around you in your community do not sense that you are different, that you are a follower of Christ, because it doesn't show in your life, through your behavior and actions, are you being a Christian? You can say you are one, but are you being one? I look around at so many of my friends who are but are not being, and that includes me. Most of the time, it's through the little things--when sharing life's goals and priorities, telling your co-workers about your weekend plans, your reactions to foul words or situations that you could have let go but didn't. If I notice, then surely everyone else does too. When you actually do some thing Jesus would do, people don't pinpoint it and think that you did it because you're a Christian, but they do notice. It's scary how the little things can make a huge impact, even eternally.
This is a long story to tie all together, but wth I'm already four paragraphs in. On Saturday, I ran a 5K with three girlfriends from church. It is called the Firefly Run, and the neat thing is that you run at night. Besides the temperature being at a more favorable level, people love running this race because you get to wear costumes and Glow-in-the-dark accessories. The
Firefly Run is hosted in a different city every month and is expanding to every major city in America. Fun stuff. Anyways, I thought this would be great opportunity to do something with the EM girls at my church, since we only ever seem to go out to eat or do the same old. I created a team trying to keep fellowship in mind. I even had a Bible verse prepared to motivate spiritual perseverance in the race that is life. Although I had created the team, I didn't feel compelled to lead it and admittedly just kind of forgot to. After we had signed in, retrieved our bibs and jazzed up in glowing plastic accessories, we took pictures and more pictures...What we should have done was begin the race off in prayer and ended it in prayer. My attention was too consumed by Gangnam Style playing in the background. I realized this after the night was over, and I was achingly making my way into bed while setting my alarm clock early so I could wake up for church. Oh yeaaa, church. I find myself dumbfounded a lot....from my own actions. I missed out on an opportunity to strengthen a genuine bond that we have and to show the community who are we are, not in a flaunting but rather loving way. Lesson learned: don't miss the next opportunity as it comes more often than we might expect.
If I notice, then surely others do too.
