The office is locked, not hugely surprising considering it's 11:30 p.m. Guess the postcards will have to wait a couple more days before beginning their journey up to San Diego. Pulling my blanket a little tighter, I slow my steps as the sound of the ocean hitting the beach becomes as clear as the salty air I'm breathing. I wander back across the dirt street separating the base and the apartments, being sure to hop the ditch in the middle. In the unusually plentiful rain in the last couple months, thousands of pretty yellow flowers and grass have popped up in every vacant lot and hillside. So has the mud.
A cloudy black-gray sky hangs above the parking lot as I climb the stairs. Leaning against a huge pillar outside our second story apartment, I look back towards the base and begin to process the last couple days. Our staff retreat ended just a few hours ago. We'd flown in one of my favorite DTS speakers, Tim Pratt, to teach on team and family and help us evaluate how we're doing as a staff. We spent hours soaking and worshipping and processing. Tim taught on us as individuals and a family- spiritual gifts, the body of Christ, really loving each other. I don't think anyone expected it to be so intense. We're not okay. We tend to let what Tim called "superficial harmony" take the place of really trusting each other. Many of us are hurting and lonely, but really good at pretending we're fine. Instead of dealing with our issues with each other or our leaders, we gossip and complain to other people or get bitter. We feel judged. We hide. We put up walls to protect ourselves. And today, we started talking about it. Crying about it and apologizing. Being honest. Owning up.
I sigh. I know that doesn't mean it's fixed. You don't fix years of doing family wrong in a day. But it's a good start. Today tells me we have the potential to change things, and that's worth smiling about. Worth being vulnerable for. Maybe we really can start protecting each other and our leaders rather than protecting ourselves. Or assuming the best rather than worst. Choosing courage rather than passivity.
A breeze rustles the palm leaves in a row of trees, silhoutted against the sky by the street light. "Love God. Love others. Start with each other." Tim's paraphrase of Matthew 22:35-40. It starts with you, ya' know, I remind myself. I'm not innocent of any of those things I find it so easy to judge other people for.
That breeze caresses my face. I smile, getting the unspoken message. He loves broken people. That includes me. And He chooses to paint Himself across us. Chooses us to be Him to other people. And like a puzzle, that portrait of him would be incomplete if any of us were missing. I don't have to be all of Him. But I'm needed to complete the picture.
Breathing in the peace in the chilly night and sharing a final, relieved smile with a Friend, I grab my postcards to mail tomorrow and let myself in, the promise following me.
