the desert shall bloom

Praise God for balance and perspective. Tonight I was reading a friend's online journal, about being with his 80 year old brother this week and his 4 month old grandson next. It caught me at the same time, and in the same place, as the stuff I've been dealing with while away this week.

There's the whole swirl of being here in New Orleans ... what we're doing, who we're meeting, what we've seen, the stories we hear ... and then there's the counterbalance of "the real world." (Like it gets more real than this?)

I generally try to really release 'work' when I'm on mission trips, in order to focus ON mission. But as you know, the mission focus at Geist Christian Church for the last -- well, several years, but especially the last several months -- has been living into the vision of one church in two locations. That means, travel or not, I need to stay connected, check and answer messages, catch up on little tasks in the evenings at the end of the mission work day, etc.: Something was forgotten, can we get together to talk about, and oh can you also such and such, and so and so won't be able to whatever, and there's a question about this or that.

And then I also have messages that: this will be ready no problem ... this couple would like to join a Sunday School class ... this guy has offered to be a greeter if we still need them ... this woman wants to join a four-year intensive bible study and is it okay that she's not a church member ... the meeting on Tuesday night is fine, everyone has great ideas coming together, ready to sit face to face and sort through ... thanks for your help with that volunteer list ... looking forward to talking about a new mission opportunity for our family, a way to serve together.

It's just such a blessing to have that swell of goodness to come in and drown out the bits and pieces that jump up and clamor for attention, seeming a lot like tasks and only a little like ministry.

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing. (Isa 35:1-2)

Pray that the people of the gulf coast would know a new kind of ocean in the ironic desert the floods left behind.
Not the ocean that overwhelms with waves of destruction and currents of devastation and need. Not the dried up three-year-old remnants of forgetfulness, feelings of helplessness and inconsequence welling up. May there be for them - and for all in need - an ocean of kindness, mercy, integrity, and compassion, running waters of hope and justice through their desert of sorrow.