Competing, contrasting or complimentary?

by Richelle Wright on January 13, 2015

Our last January in West Africa, we took the family camping at a nearby game park.

We camp a lot in the States – sometimes even in some pretty out-of-the-way places, but that was the first time I’d ever camped in Africa, under an African sky, in a really remote location. No city lights. No electricity. No paved roads. No leaving the campsite without a guide in a vehicle or with an armed guard when on foot. Hippos and elephants nearby in the river. Lions hunting on the other side of the rocky ridge that sheltered the campsite.

elephant

In some ways, it was surreal, like something I’d only see on a television show on one of those nature or documentary type channels back in the States; I had to keep pinching myself to make sure it was really real. Yet in other ways, it really felt a whole lot like “regular” camping with our gang back in Michigan.

Except for one thing.

Want to know the one thing that was totally, vastly, drastically different?

The sky.

It seems kind of funny to see those words… to hear myself think them…  For, no matter where in the world you or I stand, we can gaze upon the same sun, the same moon, many of the same stars and constellations, the same celestial bodies…

Not since I was a child growing up on the wide open US plains do I remember gazing up at such an sweeping expanse, unbroken by trees or buildings or telephone poles… unbroken by anything. Never before had the stars seemed so numerous or the moon so bright, thanks to nearby electricity -for even if there were no lights in the immediate vicinity, there always were, just over the next hill or distant grove of trees.

Watching… staring… at that sky… was nothing less than remarkable!

During the day, the sun appeared closer – bigger, brighter and more blinding than I’d ever noted before. At night, the moon was full and so bright that even my ever-becoming-more-and-more-night-blind self could see clearly and walk to the bathroom without fear of scorpion or snake while not using a flashlight. The rest of the sky appeared a dappling of stars almost blending into white clouds rather than the sometimes sparse sometimes smattering pinpoints of bright light I was accustomed to viewing. Both sun and moon shared that expansive space although on opposing horizons each morning and night.

themoon

Most remarkable was discerning, for the first time ever, the actual path those cosmic bodies traced across the sky. Early evening as the sun set and darkness deepened, juxtaposed, the moon rose and myriads of stars appeared, just peeking over the edge of the eastern horizon. Late into night, “tracking” a group of lions or spotting mongoose and honey badgers, I’d note that the moon and stars had migrated overhead. In the wee hours of the next morning, sipping coffee by the while getting the gumption to coax sleeping toddler littles and teen biggers out of bed, those same heavenly bodies had completely traversed the sky to the western skyline and then quickly submerged out of sight.

Nearing the end of our term and weary after combating several successive seasons of fatigue and burnout, tracing these sky routes was a gift, a reminder from God’s creation just when I needed refreshing.

I’d begun viewing life as only a pattern of day and night, one after the other, monotonous, numbing and purposeless in its repetition. While real and valid, my perspective limited what I was able to see.

Thankfully, perspectives are not written in stone; they can change.

A different, altered outlook can proclaim the very same cyclic monotony “revolutionary:”

  • of openings and closings…
  • of pushing and pulling…
  • of starting, persevering and finishing
  • of arrivings, continuings, migratings, traversings and departings…
  • of beginnings culminating in endings sparking new beginnings…
  • of opportunities mixing with impossibilities…

Perspectives can not only change.

Their contrasts can also compliment.

One can help bring the other more starkly into focus, just as the moon on one side of the sky highlighted the sun’s brilliance in reflecting the same light that emanated from the opposing horizon.

IMG_003620110517

May 2015 be a year of changing old, worn and wrong outlooks.

May it be a year of recognizing and renewing those complimenting perspectives as well.

****************************************************

How about you?

How do you think God might be planning to grow and change you as you minister this next year?

*Originally published as Competing or Contrasting? Choices for 2013...
at Missionary Mom's Companion and
 slightly edited for A Life Overseas.

*Moon photo - Dick Stewart, Captured Memories Lansing
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About Richelle Wright

Disciple of Jesus, lover of God's Word, wife to one great guy, and mama of eight, Richelle has spent the past 13 years in Niger, West Africa. She and her family are currently in the throes of transition as they begin life and ministry (teaching, audio-visual production) in the Canadian province of Québec. |ourwrightingpad.blogspot.com|
  • Elizabeth Trotter

    When you speak of the stars, you’re speaking my language! Can never get enough. As a child and young adult, I would visit my grandparents in rural Iowa. Do you know how many stars you can see in rural Iowa? More than in KC, or Phnom Penh, that’s certain. And I just love them.

    Yesterday in my reading I came across Psalm 33. “The Lord merely spoke and the heavens were created. He breathed the word, and all the stars were born. For when He spoke, the world began! It appeared at His command.” I NEVER get over this, the beauty and majesty of creation ex nihilo, something out of nothing. Scientists can go back to the beginning of the cosmos, but no one knows what happened at/before the beginning. And unless it’s changed quite recently, we still don’t know how mass came into being. What gives things their mass? Certain particles, yes, but HOW? But this one thing we know for sure: He speaks, and creation begins. He speaks, and stars appear. Energy, light, mass, at His command. I marvel at it always. And I marvel at how Jesus and the Spirit are intricately woven throughout that creation, not just God the Father, but God the Three-in-One.

    Ok, ok, I’ll stop on the stars. And it doesn’t really answer your questions, it is just what jumped out to me as I read. 🙂 I do happen to think God has a lot for me this year, internally, absorbing even more deeply His love for me, love that is not based in my performance — an underlying attitude that I still.can’t.shake. A confidence in my identity that isn’t easily swayed — because I’m still all too easily swayed into depression. This fear of not measuring up in some standard I’ve created in my own mind — these are the things I KNOW need changing in the deep parts of my soul. But simply knowing is not enough. I need Him to change me internally, and for that to happen, I need to give Him lots of space. So I am restructuring life in the hopes of that happening.

    • Richelle Wright

      Been trying to get back here to respond to this for a week… seriously. I’m solo-parenting until the end of next month (sigh), have four girls in high school AND just started an online class… makes winter in Michigan feel like a breeze!

      I wonder if that idea that His love for me is based on my performance for Him isn’t just a part of our fallen, sinful nature that we will battle all of our lives… because (at least for me), pride is wrapped up in there. If I can just earn even the tiniest crumb of God’s love/respect/esteem/forgiveness/whatever word you want to insert in there, then somehow, I can justify thinking that I’m not all and totally dependent upon Him… Which is blasphemy, if I’m to shoot straight from the hip as I label it. Ouch!

      Good for you with your restructuring to give God space. I’m actually one of those people who sometimes has to fill things beyond what I can do to remember and reexperience vividly my total dependence on God. Seems like I might be in the midst of another one of those seasons… although I certainly didn’t plan this one out intentionally. 🙂 Thanks for commenting.

      • Elizabeth Trotter

        Boo for the month-long single parenting. Boo, boo, boo. That’s SO hard! But thanks for taking the time to reply here, even in the midst of your busy-ness. 🙂

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