Missions Occur Where Ever the Lost People Are

I'm from Gilbert, Arizona. It's a small little farm town on the outskirts of Phoenix, one of the largest cities and one of the fastest growing in the US. Growing up in Gilbert, and especially being a teenager, provided me with the ability to have something to do in the city, while still having a very safe home. Not that Phoenix is all that dangerous anyway, but Gilbert is the kinda place where you can accidentally leave your doors open and nothing will get stolen.

Last week a murder occurred in Gilbert, Arizona. One of the safest places I can think of in the world. It's one of those: I go running at 3AM when I'm home and can't sleep, safe places. The biggest thing that happens to us is when tractors make traffic slow or kids toilet paper houses when it rains.

It's not that it freaks me out that my hometown isn't safe. If anything, Gilbert is more of a vacation residence for me, but I get the feeling that so many other people's lives were shaken up by the events. People in Gilbert base a lot of life purpose in possessions and things, in the idea of money making the world go round and living to be the "leave it to Beaver" family. Family's have cars and mopeds and 4-wheelers and boats, houses with more rooms than people and garages with more cars than licensed drivers. This is a place where "how it looks" is far more important than anything else.

I often think that the people who live to share their walks with Jesus with people in Gilbert are so much stronger than I. How do you advertise Christ to people who have EVERYTHING and whatever they don't have they could buy? Please send a quick prayer up for all the missionaries of Gilbert. They have their work cut out for them.

Actually, I Prefer Green Grapes...

So I am finally back in America. And as I have slowly recovered from jet-lag and a slight sadness at the returned commonality of my accent I have started to digest my adventures and process them into lessons. And though I am sure this is not my most important lesson, it is the one I have noticed most upon my return. Living in Gilbert, Arizona, for me, is easy. Ok, so life isn't "easy" anywhere, and of course everywhere has its' struggles and difficulties, but, for me (I'm so "post-modern, right?) life in Gilbert is easy-er.

I know life here. I understand it. I know where I need to go to get things that I want/need (well, ususally, the ever-growing amoeba that is Phoenix does change every week) and I know how to get there. I understand people. I can predict suspicions, actions, thoughts and presuppositions. I know how to behave. And it all makes sense. But, Phoenix and I don't really make sense.

There are certain things that I like that life in Arizona just can't give. And though it would be easy to stay here with everyone I know and love, to do the expected thing, I think it would be my undoing. I love Gilbert, Arizona, and I fit in just a little too well for my own comfort.

A few days ago my dad and I were talking about preferences. If I could choose whatever I wanted to eat it would probably involve long noodle-type pasta, tomatoes, avocado, something spicy, and lots of garlic (no, this is not a recipe, its just my favorite flavors), and something fruity for dessert with good wine. If I could choose anything I wanted to read it would be something imaginative, funny and with a deeper metaphorical background. My sheets would always be Jersey-knit, chairs would always be the kind you sink into, water would always be purified, the weather would be just warm enough for a skirt, but cool enough for a light jacket, and all the Earth would be covered in soft things to walk on so that I could always have bare feet. But I've come to terms with few, if any, of my preferences ever being met and a given time. And I kinda like it that way. I kinda like not having everything I want most of the time. It makes those times when you do have the few things that you really like more significant.