The Way To Serbia

I'm linking up with my friend Ellen today to share Something I Fear.

How do you get to Serbia? I've asked myself that question many times in the last few months. Besides getting to the point that one would want to go to Serbia, which is a whole other post, how does one do it? At times I feel like I might as well say I want to go to the moon.

But it's not the moon I want to go to. It's a long trip, to visit flesh and blood, that God has put on my heart. A strong theology is important, but it's meaningless if it doesn't move us. The way to Serbia is through the heart of God.

It's a trip taken on the prayers of an eight year old for his mommy. Asking in faith, "God help Mommy have the money to go to Serbia so she can get the kids without family's bigger beds and toys, and teach others how to love them."

I can't talk about loving orphans if I'm not willing to show them what that looks like. I'm going to Serbia on the prayers and accountability of my children.

It's a huge undertaking, going to Serbia. But it's not the going that I fear; the being far from home, or the different culture, or the hard to love people. No, I'm not afraid of going. I'm more afraid of not going.

What I fear the most is the possibility of living a life that doesn't matter. I'm afraid of having a faith that doesn't transform or love that doesn't act. I'm afraid of words ringing hollow in my children's ears, not matching up with my actions.

I'm terribly afraid of Christianity that is boring.

I couldn't bear it if the transformation offered in the New Testament, the promise of a filled up life, the gift of joyous living, wasn't true. I need to know that worship is more than a song we sing on Sundays; but a way to live, testifying that we believe every word God has spoken.

The only way I know to fight the fear of dead religion is to pursue a living one.

What is something you fear? How do you combat your fears?