“Somewhere between who I am and who I use to be. Somewhere in the middle you’ll find me.”
Sometimes the details seem fuzzy. Sometimes the words are vague. Yet somehow we know there is depth in the message regardless of the surrounding haze. The word carries power. So it was when I received a text message from Jacinta. Although details wallowed in murkiness the message rang out loud and clear. I had just seen her late Friday afternoon as she left my house having spent the day talking, singing, and cleaning. She had been in a particularly jovial mood and Joshua was happy to be held by her and dance around in delight. She had laughed at Joshua’s attempts for food and as always we spoke of several topics about God’s guidance and compassion. As so often I do I uttered the words “take care” as she left. Words intended to convey a sentiment of friendliness and support.
When the text came through mid afternoon on Sunday, I had to read it several times to grasp specific meaning or nuances of the words. When money is involved, and there is always a shortage of it, a text message can be quite concise. Straining to make sense of the message, the day seemed to slow while thoughts intensified their swirling. These could not be the words of the same lady who entered our house and lives each week. The author of the text seemed to be distant from the happiness I had last seen surrounding Jacinta. I checked with three people to make sure I was reading it correctly. Sometimes we can read emotions into words that were not intended. My attempts to make sense of the senseless fell in vain. Had her phone been stolen? Was this even her? There are plenty of cons throughout Nairobi these days and identity theft is a common pursuit by many. While helping was what my heart leapt towards, caution was how my hand responded. What do you say and how, or to what degree, do you help in a situation where life and death are part of the equation? In talking to Jacinta she told me through tears of how her son and oldest daughter had been kidnapped on their way home from school. Now they, along with 12 other children, were being held for ransom. Death was promised if payment was not met.
“Somewhere between my heart and my hand. Somewhere between my faith and my plans. Somewhere between the safety of the boat and the crashing waves…Somewhere in the middle you’ll find me.”
Raw bi-polar emotions, sickening churning stomachs, with heightened and frayed nerves can not even begin to do justice to my feelings, let alone those of a mother whose children have been kidnapped. Flurries of phone calls, prayer chains passionate in pursuit, faith in a Savior that is unwavering, yet desperately holding onto a hope that His will is your will. When you’re in the middle of selling your worldly possessions, inherited family land, and begging anyone who will listen for money, desperation starts to become a deafening voice. I’m sure that words of comfort without visible action can seem meaningless. Perhaps my words of “I’m praying” were easier to swallow. Talking with a mother the day payment is due, yet who is still desperately searching and pleading for money to save her children, is not an easy place to be.
“Just how close can I get, Lord, to my surrender without losing all control?”
“Fearless warriors in a picket fence, reckless abandon wrapped in common sense. Deep water faith in the shallow end and we are caught in the middle.”
Finding myself stuck in the middle of a mother and her kidnapped children you can’t help but hear the heart crying out in pained compassion. In a twisted, albeit enlightening, moment of character development, I found myself stepping in to teach a class about how our actions, the fruit of our beliefs, identify and define us. Explaining how our character ultimately leads to our behavior, and our behavior will point either towards the true Word that heals and cleanses our hearts or else it will point to self-absorption, I wrestled not only with my words but also my deeds. Saying you love your neighbor and actually loving your neighbor are not the same.
How often do we rationalize our positions digging deep into ourselves? Do we wash our hands stepping away when the road in front of us seems more than we can bear? Talking with Jacinta it was clear that in spite of the wretched and inhumane circumstances of the place she now found herself, she continued to stand on the word of God. Her understanding that God had not left her side held fast. There are and will be times when we are all caught in the middle, “Between the darkness and the light.” It is not our words that will be weighed. Only where we stand.
“With eyes wide open to the differences, the god we want and the God who is. But will we trade our dreams for His? Or are we caught in the middle?”
***
Afterward:
All 14 children were released, including both of Jacinta’s, after a week in captivity. Please pray for her children and family as they continue to undergo counseling for the psychological trauma they have survived. The effects of being caught in the middle run deep and long.
All quotes in italics from:
—Somewhere in the Middle by Casting Crowns on their album “The Altar And The Door”
nehrely there 