My friend is on an eleven month mission trip that stops in various parts of the world, and this month she’s in Serbia. She came in by train, in a sleeper car, with a few other girls on her mission’s team. They were sleeping when a man crawled through their window, about to mug them; L. woke up, screamed, and because of that, prevented the man from mugging her team. The experienced dampened her perspective of Serbia. She wrote that she feels like she’s going through the motions of her ministry, that she’d rather stay in bed. Understandably, she’s confused about why God would let that happen.
This is an open letter to her:
Dear L.
When I read your post this morning it reminded me of this time when I was living in Detroit and I took my grandmother to the doctor’s office, less than five minutes from the house where I grew up. The sun was going down. It was November, so it probably wasn’t that late–maybe 5pm? We got in the car, which was in a deserted parking lot, and I closed the door to find a gun in my face. Behind the gun, there was a kid: he was probably 14 or 15.
I spent most of my life before that defending my hometown. People would ask me “Do you get mugged all the time?” I would say “No,” assuring them that Detroit wasn’t that bad, that I was taken care of, etc. When it happened, I was so angry. I felt so betrayed, not only by the city, but by God. He was totally cramping on my “courageous, invincible” style by allowing that to happen.
Here’s the thing. The kid with the gun made off with $10, but he didn’t hurt my grandmother, he didn’t hurt me, he didn’t take the car, or the $200 in cash that my grandmother happened to be carrying around in her purse that day (or every day, apparently, because that is what some old folks do). Anyone could make an argument that spiritual forces were protecting us during that time. I’m grateful for those, if they were there, but I really connected with you when you wrote about your persistent feeling of betrayal and hurt, and your immobility after the event.
I don’t have any words of encouragement along the lines of, “God let that happen to test you,” or “Satan is testing you, so run to God’s arms,” etc. Both of these statements are probably true on some level but I don’t think they’re all that helpful. I don’t look back on that memory of the gun in my face in such a way. It happened roughly 10 years ago now, and as time goes on, I think more about the kid behind the gun, his role in an intricate web of power struggles, poverty, selfishness, and desperation. He is a glimpse of something we have in us all: a craving for something so strong that we’d hurt other people to get it.
Your identity is going to change because of what happened to you. That can’t be helped–just as I couldn’t keep my identity from changing when I got mugged in Detroit. I still am Detroit’s cheerleader, but I have a more complex view of the place; I have a deeper perception of what’s going on there, of what I’m defending. So, too, is your identity going to change on this trip because you’ve now been through a life-shaping event.
My prayer is that you’ll be able to look back on this, after you’ve taken some time to heal, and start seeing yourself as a survivor rather than someone who is scared. Because that’s the thing: you’re already a survivor–you’ve survived through more than most people you know back here in the States. I’m praying that you will start to see this event shape your identity in God in such a way. By the end of this month, you’re going to be a stronger person than you were last month. It’s kind of like learning how to tackle hills on a bicycle. I ride my bike to work sometimes, and when I got started, I was in so much pain after the first hill that I wanted to never get on the bike again. After a while, I didn’t notice the hills anymore because my legs were stronger.
Though I hope this is the last time you’re scared on your trip, or for the rest of your life, my guess is that you’ll see more of this sort of thing. It’s kind of part of the job, and the only people who can do this type of work are people who let God’s perfect love drive out their fear. You are already brave because you’re on the trip. Now is the time to tap into that bravery you already have, in Jesus, and get out of bed. But if it takes a few days, let it take a few days. If you’re going through the motions, that’s okay. Slow down, feel upset, it’s where you are and it’s part of the process. (Like taking a day off to let your muscles heal from the bicycle).
When I got mugged, I spent the next few days driving around the city with this song on repeat:
Also, this song helped:
Here’s what I’m not saying: I’m not saying that this train guy was sent by God, or that he had any right to put fear into your life. I am really glad that you weren’t hurt. But you’re going to have a fuller perspective of God and yourself because of this (I really believe that). You’re stronger, you’re more authentic, you’re more realistic, and someday, you’ll be able to draw from the strength that you gained from this and channel it into your ministry.
Until then, accept God’s comfort. He’s there. We’re here, praying for you.
walk through the sea 