Sitting with that awful yet wonderful smell of campfire smoke saturating my being I pause after sipping my hot mug of Emergen-C. I can hear and see our camp neighbors on all sides. Across the way a young boy joyfully exclaims in a shrill manner that he had just peed on a tree. To the South I observe a couple in their late twenty’s setting up a slim camp and unloading wet gear from a strenuous kayak trip; their conversation and interaction with one another, nearly inescapable from our awareness. The north revealed a couple about my age. They are sitting quietly at their mossy picnic table, and to my approval fixated on their books.
“An open book, that’s what we are!” The thought kept rolling around in my head as I tenderly took another sip of Emergen-C to insure I don’t contract the latest Washington jungle bacteria. There in that campsite, our lives were stripped bare of any form of privacy comparable to our air tight homes. I don’t bother counting a tent, which hardly counts for anything. I know this because I lay that night, eyes blinking, listening to a vicious argument between some of our camp neighbors. Abby had the luxury of snoozing through it, but when I told her about it the next morning, she responded with great insight. If we lived in that campground for a long period of time, she communicated, that couple would notice that such anger, rage and hostility do not characterize our disagreements.
At this point my thoughts turned toward our future ministry in a tribal group. Our host society will need the ability to observe our lives as we model Christ’s life in us. If we move in and build a fortress of a house in order to maintain privacy based on our western standards, how will they ever see that life fully? At the moment, our humble campsite seemed like the ideal context for all levels of ministry.
What then can we do in a tribal setting? Remembering that all we can do at this point is to formulate ideas and strategies, we dove into the task of brainstorming. We, and I really mean we, are entertaining the idea of not having a living room in our bush house. Instead, we envision an enlarged covered porch where we can hang out, relax and interact. We would treat it as our living room. The purpose would be to remove any obstacle that could keep our lives from being “readable,” which we pray, among other things, will cause curiosity toward the message that we bear.
Vikki says
What a beautiful blending of minds…a fantastic idea that grew from all the right goals and hopes. I pray for you guys all the time. What a great visual I can now have once you’re there, of you on your large unwalled front living room. 🙂 Love you!