Bridges

It was in the throes of last week's culture shock that I picked up a book that has long sat on my bookshelf. (Well... not that long here, but a long time at home.) It's called Praying the Attributes of God. It examines each of God's attributes and leads the reader through prayer accordingly.

This summer as I was teaching VBS, one of the other leaders daily reminded our middle school students of a quote from A.W. Tozer: "What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us." I have been mulling over this lately, so I figured this book would be a good way to examine who God really is, according to His Word.

Last week's attribute was accessibility. It came at just the right time... I spent an entire week going over the scripture passages, and focusing on what it meant that God was accessible.

Though I can never truly mine to the bottom of what it means for God to be accessible, I eagerly turned to the next chapter on Sunday.

Creator.

I'll be honest. I let out a mini inward groan.

Because when I think about God being the Creator, I immediately think about the Creation vs. Evolution debate I have listened to countless times. I think about "Scientists" vs. "Creationists." I think about the intellectual debates that often seem to undermine everything Christianity stands for... about ad hominem arguments (on both sides) that draw attention away from the most important questions.

I was worried I would read ten passages telling me that God created the world, and I was already disappointed since this would have very little bearing on my real life.

But of course, I was so wrong.

Because to acknowledge God as Creator means to acknowledge myself as creation. To acknowledge God as Creator means to humble myself before Him, and recognize that He knows better. To acknowledge God as Creator means to acknowledge His omnipotence, His infinite creativity, and His ability to solve any problem within the blink of an eye.

It means that it takes me off the "throne." It takes the pressure off of me to be "perfect." It means that when scripture says "My help comes from the Lord, the maker of Heaven and Earth," (Ps. 121:2)  it means that the same God that invented the Heavens and the Earth is the one that comes to my rescue.

This week I have asked Him for a bit of His creativity as I have been designing lesson plans. I have asked Him for help countless times. And I worshiped Him even as the rain poured from a gray sky, because "the Heavens declare the glory of God," not only in a Jamaican sunset (or let's be honest... a Winona Lake sunset), but in a dreary, drippy overcast day.

But today I reached the "confession" part of the book. It acknowledges shortcomings that have to do with this attribute. Like the fact that I fail to worship Him as Creator. Or that I'm worried about small things when He has promised to help, and He is capable of so much more. But the one that really stopped me in my tracks was the one that read, "And forgive me for not thanking you for creating me just the way you did."

Prior to coming to Hungary, I intellectually took stock of the fact that I needed to be prepared to "not fit." Not in the sense that people would dislike me or that I wouldn't have friends. Rather, that there would be times when I feel like I don't fit in the American community because I'm too Hungarian, and that there would be times I won't fit in the Hungarian community because I'm too American. In some ways, this is nothing new than what I have felt in the States, I'm just better at faking it there ;)

Perhaps I've blogged about this before, but there are times I wish I could just be "normal." That I was monocultural, or that there wasn't always some part of me that felt out of place. And so as I was reflecting over this, I realized that I am in fact grumbling against my Creator. I am being ungrateful that He has created me in this way.

Today after our morning session of orientation I was chatting with a fellow staff member, and we turned to this subject. Through our conversation, the Lord began to impress a familiar-new metaphor on my heart.

I am a bridge.

I am not Hungarian only, or American only.
I have roots at both ends. Foundations at both ends.
But no bridge can stand without additional supports that come from neither side. My true foundation must come from the knowledge that my citizenship is in Heaven.

Being a bridge means that I am stretched in order to serve others by helping them connect to each other. By its very nature, a bridge spans a distance and closes gaps. It is a connector. And I am here in this Hungarian-American community, connecting people to each other. Helping translate, helping Americans practice Hungarian, and helping Hungarians practice English... guiding conversations about culture and helping people understand each other (to the extent that I understand it!)...

A bridge is solitary. It can be lonely stretching across cultures.
But a community finds strength in a multitude of bridges.

Then the sudden realization: You live in a city of bridges.

And the beauty and unity of this city, Budapest, is accomplished through bridges.

I am praising the Creator for making me a bridge. And I embrace the in-between-ness of being neither Hungarian or American, but both. And I'm praising the Creator for His creativity in placing me in a city of bridges where I can be continually reminded of His purpose for me.