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When you’re being poured out

I wanted to whine this morning.  Karen and I got a bad cold (she in Cape Town, me two days later here in the Yucatan).  So we were running a little ragged.  It’s been a crazy week – we flew from South Africa to Atlanta, stopped a day to do laundry, and then took off for…
By Seth Barnes

I wanted to whine this morning.  Karen and I got a bad cold (she in Cape Town, me two days later here in the Yucatan).  So we were running a little ragged.  It’s been a crazy week – we flew from South Africa to Atlanta, stopped a day to do laundry, and then took off for the jungles of Palenque, Mexico. 

En route I got a call from my coworker and buddy Clint Bokelman.  He gave me the early notice on what quickly became international news.  Our team in Jamaica had been robbed at gunpoint (see yesterday’s blog). 

Fortunately Clint and his team are quite capable and handled the thing wonderfully.  So Karen and I were able to turn our focus to launching our July World Race team.  We’re committing ourselves to a new model – where a couple like ourselves acts as spiritual parents to a group of 32 World Racers for the next three years, beginning with this year.

All our planes connected on time and we got great seats and the training went well, but there’s something inside me that still wants to say, “Look at how tough all this is – somebody notice me.” 

Why is that?  I mean, we’ve got a great life and God has given us wonderful ministry to do.  We trained these young people and invested ourselves.  And when my throat needed prayer this morning, Kara boldly came up, placed her hand on it and prayed for healing.  Result: I made it through the day, voice intact.

I have no real need to be noticed or garner sympathy or accolades for my service to God.  If I’m being poured out and made to stretch a little then maybe that’s his grace taking me beyond the confines of my distressingly needy flesh.

Whining is never a winsome trait, even when we don’t give voice to the demands of that wretched little tantrum-throwing child inside.  Most of the whining I do is internal – stupid temptations that stop at the door of my mouth.  My guess is that I’m not alone in this (and even that is an ironic consolation).  More of us need to commit to the privilege of being poured out.
 
(P.S. Pray for traveling mercies as we fly to Chicago and then attend Chad and Erin’s wedding.  After that, it’s on to Santa Barbara).

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