No Running-Oh

Last night was a special treat. This turned out to be an unpredictable, unexpected event that really was such a special moment of my time here in Liberia. I had planned on just spending the evening at home. I have been, as my roommates call it, turtle-ing this past weekend. Thursday was Liberian Independence Day, Friday was declared a day off from the office, and then of course we had the weekend. I have been working for almost two months straight and I have found solace over these past three days by retreating to my room and just reading, listening to music, sleeping, watching the West Wing and spending time relaxing. So, of course, my plan for last evening was to do the same.

As the day progressed though it turned out that a few friends were going to grab food for supper. I jumped on board feeling like perhaps I needed to be a tad bit more social than I had been. Randomly, someone suggested that we head down to the Bamboo Restaurant in the heart of the city. There is nothing particularly interesting about this place; except for it has a third level location so the breeze comes through nicely. We found our seats towards the back of the restaurant as the typical Saturday night Reggae band was about to start and the sound can sometimes be a bit much.

We ordered our pizzas and got down to talking about important issues, like whether our friend Clint’s family really lives in a teepee. There was plenty of good discussion amongst the Brit/South African, Lebanese, American and Canadians when all the sudden there was a rumble, and we heard sounds off in the not so distant that resembled that of bombs. Chantelle looked at me with this look of, “oh goodness, what is happening”, all before we could notice that the full moon night sky was filling with brilliant colours.

What followed was ½ hour of the best fireworks display (thank you Chinese government) that I have seen. It was not because there was anything more remarkable in the display (other than one really cool firework that exploded to look like the continent of Africa), but was made it so memorable was the significance behind the event. To me it signified and demonstrated that Liberia is moving towards “normalcy” (I know that’s not the right word, but it’s all that comes to my mind). What I mean is that there are increasing signs of stability. This night signified one of those signs.

Just as the fireworks were going off in the night sky, the local police force was driving up and down the streets and on loudspeakers they were calming people’s questions/fears(?) about what was happening. “No Running-oh! Dis one dhere, dat one fireworks-oh!” People stopped, stared, children were dancing in the streets, and there was cheering and rejoicing and awe at this new chapter in Liberian life. No longer did the sounds that signify destruction and death have to mean such terrible things.

I can’t describe the night adequately, other than to say that during the whole thing each of was there staring into the sky and looking at each other in disbelief that we were privileged enough to witness this event. More importantly, I think we all had the feeling that we had witnessed something far greater than just a fireworks display.

What I Have Been Reading Lately...

Well, another blog entry and not months in between...I think I'm improving. I have found time again to enjoy evenings out on the front porch enjoying the sunset, a good cup of coffee, and a chance to slow down in life and read a few pages here and there.

I am always someone that reads a few books at a time as I have a short attention span and need to flip flop back and forth. So lately, it's been a fictional book, and then Brian McLaren's "a Generous Orthodoxy". Let me start by saying that tossing around words in theological discussions like "exclusivist", "univeralists", "fundamendalist", and on and on, is not for me. It's probably cause I am a simple person with a simple mind. I do not claim to even a have a clue on these issues. So let me preface it all with those statements.

However, today I read a section of McLaren's book and it struck a chord in me.

When I say that I cherish an evangelical identity, I mean something beyond a belief system or doctrinal array or even a practice. I mean an attitude – an attitude toward God and our neighbour and our mission that is passionate. When evangelicals (at their best) sing, they sing. When evangelicals pray, they pray. When evangelicals preach, they preach. When evangelicals decide something is worth doing, they do it. They don’t tend to establish committees to study the feasibility of doing it. They don’t ask permission from the bureaucracy to do it. They don’t do a degree that qualifies them to do it. They just do it – and with passion.

True, this evangelical passion gets them into trouble from time to time. For example, passionate can easily degenerate into sentimental or cheesy or hotheaded or hardheaded or softheaded, and too often it has done so. But if I have a choice between the kind of trouble that comes from too much passion or the kind that comes from too little, my choice would be easy.

I paused for a moment as I reread this blurb, because I realized that I wanted to do a simple entry and now that I put this down, I feel like I have to justify, explain, reason, etc. The reality is that I'm not trying to make a statement about being pro-evangelical, or anti-evangelical.

Instead, as you can see from my bolded words, my desire is to live my life with passion. I'm not talking about living a reckless life but I'm talking about living each day with an attitude that says that I want to seize all that today has to offer, and whatever I take on, that I do it with zeal.