Almost a year ago, when the T-ban took over in Afghanistan, there was this desire to help that welled up in the hearts of those who watched the news. There was a desire to “do something.” That was shared by many members of my church. One idea was the spark it needed, and the blaze of passion to get involved was set loose.
We attended training meetings. We laid out a plan. Then we waited and prayed. And waited and prayed. And waited. And waited. And waited.
Finally, we were matched with an Afghan refugee family who had settled in our city. We were going to go and help them to resettle and to adjust to American life. Get a job. Grocery shop. Go to the hospital to have the baby.
For various reasons, it never quite kicked off the way we had envisioned. The ministry kind of sputtered to life and then suddenly came to a halt.
At risk of oversimplifying, the organization we were partnering with has as its goal to help the refugee families who have no other help. And the family we were paired with, unbeknownst to us, was already receiving the same help we would offer from multiple other organizations, churches, and groups.
We hope and pray that although we are stepping back from an official partnership and an official role with helping the family to resettle that there may be hope of keeping an open door for friendship and the sharing of the gospel in the future. Only God knows if that will be possible. We pray it might be.
Sometimes, when something doesn’t turn out the way that we expected it would, we question whether we really heard God’s voice and were really following him as we ought to have been. I think we neglect to remember that God doesn’t only call us to easy things that turn out nicely in the end. He leads us through dark valleys, messy situations, and sometimes what feels like crushing defeats. He has his reasons and his purposes for bringing us through those things.
I’ve been reflecting over the past two weeks on what kinds of things God might be trying to teach me through this ministry experience. What follows are two ideas…and I may look back down the road and see that I was totally wrong, and God was teaching me something else. But I’m trying to train myself to look at the world when things “go wrong” and not see only the failures and disappointed plans but the gracious gifts of God in what he might be doing in the mess.
Lesson #1: I am not the hero. Even as I wrote the opening sentences of this post, I thought of a podcast series I listened to about a young girl who went to Africa trying to change the world…and possibly did more harm than good in what she was doing. She seems to have had good intentions…but the point of the podcast was that white people often look out on the world and see a lot of situations that “we can fix.” I don’t know the hearts of the other members of my team, but I know for me it was a really big temptation to look at the situation and think: look at all these great ways we are going to help this family! This has been reminder to me as I step forward into more ministry that the point of any ministry is not so that I look great but to bring glory to God.
Lesson #2: The role God has for me in ministry may surprise, confuse, and even frustrate me…but it’s not a mistake. I think God knew I needed my pride knocked down to size. I joined the team wanting to “play a part,” to “do something.” I envisioned going over to the family’s house after work, helping care for the baby, organizing a meal train, providing transportation, playing a part in the husband finding a job…well, I think you get the picture. I knew how I wanted my role to play out. Instead, I sat week after week in meetings with nothing to report. I didn’t get an “official role” on the team. I never interacted in person with the family. I felt like I was doing nothing. And maybe that was just the place God needed me to be. I still haven’t broken out of the confusion and frustration. I still don’t know why God needed me to be in this place. But I know, because he is God, that it wasn’t a mistake or a fluke that this was the role he had for me.
This family, as well as all the other Afghan refugees and those who are still in Afghanistan, are still on my heart and still in my prayers. I still pray that they may come to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. I still pray that they would learn to thrive in this new place that they are living in. And I still trust that God used this to accomplish exactly what he wanted to in my heart, in my church, and in this family.