Today I joined 50+ people in taking off my shoes and leaving them at the door. Today I walked as my brothers and sisters from Burma do when they come together. There is something humbling about being together barefoot. There is something sacred about worshiping with many on holy ground. There in that room I lifted my head with people whose sandals have seen the soil of sorrow. They teach my heart about joy because they know it rich and full. In beautiful harmony they cry out to the God who has spared them the like the spoils of war.
“Then sings my soul my Savior God to Thee…how great Thou art.”
They say “never underestimate the power of touch.”
Today, as I sat there in the stillness of worship, she leaned back against my knees. We had been there so long that I think she had forgotten that it was I, the unfamiliar American, who was sitting behind her. I sat very still so I wouldn’t disturb her. She was one of the Pi-Pis (grandmothers) and I am sure her bones were aching, as mine were. In a moment of realization, she jumped and turned around as if to apologize. I put my hand on her shoulder and smiled. She too smiled and touched my hand and settled back. We sat like that for several minutes holding hands – deciding to trust one another without words.
They say “she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth.”
Today, for the first time since I was a toddler, I put down the spoon and ate with my hands. Why did I do this? Because it was cultural, and because it was common ground. There was no good reason not to do it. It was a simple way to “be all things to all people” as Paul encouraged in I Corinthians. These beautiful people have run from war for decades. They have lived in jungles and refugee camps and have been used to getting by with very little. They see the good in things that we give no value. And they have little use for many of the conveniences that we find necessary. Today, I found the freedom in that. And I think in some small way I overcame a barrier between us.
They call it “leveling the playing field.”
Today I sat on the floor rather than in a chair. Today it seemed more appropriate. It put me eye to eye with those with whom I was breaking bread. It was about putting aside my privilege and my pride and my pain. I didn’t want to be “above” anyone in the room. It was worth it. It gave me the chance to hear about Karen culture from a young man who was proud to share it with this old girl. I am pretty sure he might have had to put aside his pride to sit with me too. But he did. And I did. And together we ate delicious food that I have never tasted. And we shared stories that bridged an ocean. And I got to do what I love – encourage the heart of one who didn’t think he could make it in school, or here in American culture. Yes, it was worth it.
They say “you can’t take it with you” and most of the time they are right.
But...the things I experienced today...I am pretty sure heaven is made of these. I think if I keep laying down my life for the sake of the kingdom and kingdom connections, I will get to see more of what heaven looks like. The streets there are paved with gold. I don’t need to seek it here. In my Father’s house are many mansions. Wherever I live here will pale in comparison to what He has in store. God knows I would rather be barefoot in worship with His people than anywhere else on earth. HIS people – every tribe, every nation, every tongue. I want to be ready for heaven. I want to be able to sing praises with ALL who stand before His throne. And so for today I kick off my shoes, lean back and rest in His goodness, roll up my sleeves and enjoy the bounty that He has set before me here.