idelette

Six years ago I spent two weeks in a former Communist facility converted to a kind of Sunday School camp about two hours outside of Moscow. I was there for two back-to-back magazine training workshops. Yes, in Russia.

Today, as I was thinking about Mary–highly pregnant–traveling on a donkey to Bethlehem, I couldn’t help but wonder how uncomfortable she must have been. And so I remembered my Russian training camp.

Entering Bootcamp
Perhaps the relieved applause from my fellow Aeroflot passengers upon our safe landing should have warned me that this trip would be different. I was just thrilled to be in Russia and everything in me felt expectant.

Slowly but surely my expectations of what the two weeks would look like, however, began to unravel.

I was a tad shocked when I walked into the military bare room where I were to spend the next two weeks. I remember the fluorescent lights and just how low and skinny the beds were. Thin blue and white striped mattresses lay on eight metal cots lined up neatly in the cold room.

I quickly made my bed, trying to make it a bit more inviting. It also dawned on me that I had brought only one book to read, other than my Bible. I just figured I would be so consumed with the course, I didn’t need much else. I was wrong about needing more reading material.

I also realized I had packed two weeks of clothes for the wrong season. On the calendar it said July–summer in Europe–but this place was colder than Cape Town in September. It felt like your average Vancouver day in the fall. Maybe even colder. I had packed mostly T’s and jeans and a gray short-sleeved dress.

It seemed everything around me was gray. Gray skies, gray lifeless buildings, gray interior walls. Very few local smiles.

Without a Wallet

To top it off, on the drive to the airport in Vancouver, my wallet had fallen out of my purse. I arrived in Russia with no credit card and no landed immigrant certificate (I needed that to get back into Canada). I had my passport and (thankfully!) my basic cash for the trip in a separate little bag, so I had enough to pay for my course, but not much else.

And, oh yes, I was eight weeks pregnant.

Hot showers were available only twice a day: between 6-8am and again from 7-9pm. And even those times were not guaranteed. Every time I stepped into the shower, it was with a prayer.

At first, the prayer was for hot water. Within a few days, that prayer became a prayer of gratitude for a life at home where I could step into a hot shower any moment of the day.

I very quickly learned that God had me in that place to teach me about comfort.

For those two weeks in the Russian countryside, everything in my life that had provided me with a sense of comfort, up until that moment, was suspended.

Things like warmth
I really don’t like being cold. It’s one of my things and I joke that I keep the heat in our home on the “Africa” setting. During those two weeks I had to learn that warmth is not a right. It’s a comfort. And I had nothing to complain about, because, really, I still had plenty of clothes to keep me warm, even though I had to layer nearly every piece I had packed every day just to stay warm.

Things like freedom
I had to adjust to a pretty rigid schedule during those two weeks. Showers at the same time every day. Breakfast, lunch, dinner at the same time every day. No choices to what I wanted to eat.

Our course work was highly structured, always starting at the same time, breaks at the same time, ending at the same time. This was a really great stretch for my creative spirit.

I had to find what freedom meant, within that rigid structure, within myself. In my head and my heart. I had to meet Jesus, who sets us free in the midst of the most limiting of circumstances.

Things like Access.
We were in a remote village, very much removed from urban comforts. The nearest town was a beautiful 10-minute walk away, but there was nothing there except for a few homes and a store or two. The town didn’t quite seem awake during any time of the day.

As for calling home to Canada, I had to go to the little guard house at the front of our complex to make any phone calls. Since I didn’t have a credit card, however, I could only make collect calls. Finding the right number to dial out to Canada with guards who didn’t speak English was a challenge. I had to ask for a lot of help from Irena, our course interpreter.

How much I had taken for granted in my comfortable Canadian life.

Finances
Having very limited money and no way to access more, made me feel extremely vulnerable.

I found myself in the grayest of grays, in the Desert of my own Discomfort, having to come face to face only with my God of All Comfort. All my basic needs were met, yes, but I had to be stretched and make sense of God outside of my comforts. To find a sense of joy in a very gray moment. And to really search my heart, because I essentially had been a brat, expecting that, of course, God would cover me in earthly comforts as I followed Him.

The story of Mary shows us something different, however. Mary surrendered her comfort as she set out on that journey to Bethlehem. She waived every pregnant instinct to birth her baby into a safe and secure place. I guess we can say that from the very beginning, Jesus moved Mary out of Comfortable into the discomforting state of the Unknown. Her only real stake: an unshakable trust in the God of Heaven.

Should we expect any different, then, from our own journey into the Story of Jesus?

Word for today:
Gratitude
Activity for today:
When you have your hot shower or bath today, at the time of your choosing, remember your freedom and your privilege. As you stand in that moment, what does your heart say to you?
What comforts do you take for granted? Are you willing to lay these down as you embark on this journey?
What else are you grateful for?
Prayer:
Lord, wherever I may find myself on this journey, I am thankful that You are here with me, speaking with me, teaching me, carrying me and moving me to the place I am meant to go into Your Story.