The greatest of these

The world all around us is spinning and transforming, changing course at an ever-increasing rate. I see people moving faster and faster, parents racing through their days and their duties, children over-scheduling their lives both in and out of school, corporations competing for financial and technological advances. I see that the earth is stirring, quite literally, colliding to create rifts and quakes in places like Haiti and Chile. I see cities and countries torn apart by crime, acts of hate and genocide in Darfur, famine and disease throughout most of the continent of Africa, war in the Gaza Strip. I get caught up in the intensity of it all, and I have a difficult time discerning God's movement amidst the chaos.

In the past few years, my personal theology has come to embrace the belief that God does not cause bad things to happen. God created the world in such a way that humans can take chances and take charge — that we are given the opportunity to find our own balance with one another and with nature. I believe that God does not bring pain and suffering upon the human race, that God does not interfere in this way.

But with this belief comes a question — if I do not blame God for the bad things that happen, can I truly thank God for the good things that happen? Does God really offer healing in the aftermath of a natural disaster, or provide food to the poor and the malnourished, or bring peace in the midst of turmoil?

The answer is yes. I believe that God does do these things. For I believe that God, at God's most pure and most human, is Love. And where I see this Love most often is in the quiet places, the calm after the storm and the growth after the decay. I see this Love through our denominational Week of Compassion, under the leadership of Amy Gopp, a mission fund whose unwavering conscientiousness and dedication to all parts of the world, far and near, keep the church relating to and serving the needs of others. I see this Love in Disciples missionaries Kim and Patrick Bentrott, who write about their recent return from Haiti, attempting to describe the indescribable connection they feel to their home in Port-au-Prince, their conflict between the life and privilege they can provide for their adopted children in America and the life — and suffering — they have left behind in the rubble. I sense this Love in the politicians who are working toward peace in conflicted nations. I confirm this Love through college students who reach out to a friend when a loved one is lost. I feel this Love when I see a girl with two mothers teaching her every day about inclusion and empathy and charity. I experience this Love through my own parents, and through the support of my HELM family, encouraging me to search for the place where my greatest passion meets the world's greatest need, where I cannot help but give back and Love others.

And, with the help of this support network and this Love, I'm finding that place. On the cusp of graduation from college, I find myself yearning to stay connected with the Disciples church. I feel connected throughout the month of February, during which we hold a special offering for Week of Compassion. I feel compelled to remain attentive to the situation in Haiti — to donate health kits to Church World Service, to aid in fundraising events at school, to read and think and feel and not forget. I feel called to explore the possibility of a Global Missions internship somewhere outside of the U.S., where I hope to learn what it means to serve others and to be a global child of God. I believe that we can all work toward this goal, finding our place and doing our part through our faith, particularly in the wake of despair. For there is always hope. There is always God. There is always Love. To take inspiration from Kim and Patrick Bentrott's blog:

So we'll face the quiet, drudge up the images, remember the faces, cry the tears, and question the heavens. We'll humble ourselves to be the recipients of good-will and charity. We'll heal ourselves and our family.

And then we'll organize. Plan. Rebuild. Join forces. Get to work. Because the longer we are away, the harder our hearts pull us back.

And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is Love.