6.23.2007

"to be nobody"

Some of the young interns from Reba Place were here for a few days this week to help out on the farm. And they were eager to hear about my experiences walking. It felt good to have them ask questions and be impressed by the answers. And having friendly visitors from a sister community reinforces the feelings of acceptance and at-home-ness that I've been experiencing as I contact other friends and communities and ministries that we will visit on our walk this summer.

But too much approval and acceptance begins to make me uncomfortable. It feels good, but it doesn't stimulate much growth (or keep us spiritually awake) and it can be a trap, causing us to confine ourselves to those circles where we are appreciated. To be resisted is more challenging. To be unvalued is more humbling. And I think following Jesus unavoidably leads us in this direction; if we're seeking acceptance and only going where they approve of us, then we will necessarily turn away from the path Jesus is on.

Looking towards the days ahead, I was reminded of the feeling of being on the road. Having good visits with friends and meeting new admirers, but then becoming a nobody, a poor stranger, an outsider to society, on the long stretches between those visits. I looked back in one of my earliest journals and found this entry:

The difference today was surprising. After all those discussions and all that encouragement—today, silence. It was like suddenly moving out of the spotlight and finding myself in complete darkness. I'm anonymous; no one bothers about me. I barely raise an eyebrow or two as motorists notice the oddity of a walker on the highway. No one asks for an explanation, so no one knows, and I just continue on my way in silence. It's a little unnerving. Because it's so humbling—to be nobody—but that is really a very good thing. I should not think I'm so important to God's plan that I have to be constantly used by him. If (when!) I disappear, the Way remains, the Truth remains, everything I've been pointing to remains and only one little pointing finger is gone. That's something I need to be continually reminded of.