The Last 6 Weeks: People, Not Projects

I love projects.  I love the challenge of having to design and redesign and configure and construct something that, afterwards, you can look at and be proud of.  I guess that's one reason why I got into construction.  Typically, when I am faced with a project, I devote everything to it.  I spend my free time thinking about whatever it is that I'm working on.  I'll forget to eat.  I won't even stop to go to the bathroom.  This was the case with my most recent project.  I was assigned the task of building the cabinets in a new house that is being completed here on campus.  This house will be a revenue producer for the seminary as missionary families rent it out for years to come.  The first guest arrives in a week and a half, so we're in crunch time.  As I began to prepare to build cabinets, I spent an entire day measuring, investigating, designing, redesigning, and planning for how I was going to build them.  Every time I was in my kitchen cooking or washing dishes I would take mental notes about my cabinets and apply it to my design.  If I was in the middle of dinner and had a thought enter my mind about them, I would get up and investigate immediately.  I was consumed by cabinets before I even began to build them.   I tried to schedule my progress about a week in advance so I would know what I could expect to accomplish each day.  If I wasn't already locked in to what I was doing, once the actual construction began, I most certainly was.  Any distraction was too much.  If I couldn't have a conversation with you while I was working, I would rather it wait.

Pause.

Rewind four and a half months.  I'm at my last small group meeting before I leave for Honduras.  They ask me what is one thing specifically about which they can pray for me.  I respond with the following:

"I tend to get really focused on projects that I'm doing, so I guess my fear is that I will neglect the people and relationships for the sake of whatever project I'm working on.  Pray that I'll focus on the people, not the projects."

Play.

Fast-forward back to cabinet-building week.  As I'm in the thick of it, in walks Lenin, my neighbor and the pastor of my church.  He has a favor to ask of me.  A dentist friend of his has agreed to do some much needed dental work for free  for a teenage girl in our church, Nulbia.  Lenin tells me that he is unable to take her to her appointment.  (As he is talking, I know what's coming.  In my head I'm thinking, "please don't ask me to do it, please don't ask me to do it).  He asks me if I could take her.  I hesitate, smile, grit me teeth, and tell him that I can.  I confess to Laura as we're going to pick up Nulbia that this is really hard for me and I would, honestly and selfishly, rather be working on my cabinets.  She knew that and promptly reminded me of what I asked for prayer about four and a half months ago.

So long story short, I took Nulbia to the dentist, had a nice conversation with the dental assistant while waiting, took Nulbia back home, and proceeded to work on cabinets.  Apparently, however, I wasn't quite done learning my lesson.  I had to take Nulbia to the dentist again the next day, and the day after that, and one more day the next week.  With each trip, and only by the grace of God, my mind eased more and more knowing that she was more important that a cabinet.  You see, Nulbia is in the class that I teach at church.  She is one of the few Hondurans who will occasionally participate in the lesson.  She is rather shy and doesn't usually speak unless spoken to, so even though we sat in silence for most of our trips, the few conversations that we did have only helped to strengthen our relationship.

There was a time that I considered a wooden box to be more important than a human being.  

That's a hard sentence to write, but it is a true admission from the chief of sinners.  I am indebted to God for his undeserving grace that forgives me for believing the lie that my projects are more important.  I am indebted to God for his transforming grace that reminds me daily that construction projects and houses and cabinets are a means to an end, not an end in themselves.

I don’t expect this to be the last time I need that reminder, but hopefully, by the grace of God, I can continue knowing that people, not projects, are why I am in Honduras.