Make me an instrument of thy peace

One of my favorite prayers....the prayer of St Francis of Assisi.

Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace,

Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is sadness, joy; where there is darkness, light.

O divine master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console; not so much to be understood, as to understand; not so much to be loved, as to love. For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life.

Tomorrow Em and I are traveling to Tanzania, my sixth trip and her second. This prayer, and a little book of meditations based on it by South African writer Alan Paton, will be daily devotional material for our traveling group.

When we travel to a new place, especially a place as far away in terms of distance, culture, comfort, and values as Tanzania is from suburban USA, it can be hard to step outside our bubble of self awareness. When we're struggling with basic comfort--toilets, bottled water, crowded buses, 4 inch foam mattresses, food that is new, language differences, cultural gaps--it's hard to get to the point where every experience is NOT "all about me." It can be hard to realize that the plumbing is not a personal affront. It can be hard to get past the feeling of how "heroic" we are to simply be there, and get to the point where we can really experience being there.

I'm in my comfort zone in the village. My wardrobe fits in a carry on bag, two skirts and a half dozen t-shirts. Hiking boots to protect my weak ankle. Every morning, a shower, sometimes warm. Lots of Purel in my pack.

As I walk through the village, children shout "Mzungu!" ("white person!") I've been there often enough that some shout "Mama Kirsten" or "Mama Christian."

It would be easy to get a big head, to think that we are somehow bringing the kingdom to these people.

But no. God was here long before we came for a visit. God has been here blessing this community with a deep love, with broad connectedness, with deep compassion. What we found when we first visited was a joy that defied the poverty, a hope that defied the hopelessness, and a compassion in community that we americans envy.

The little bit of good that we do--bringing medicines for the dispensary, bringing scholarships for secondary and university students, funding the micro loans and agricultural projects that bring a small bit of economic development--seems like a drop in the bucket of the great needs that exist here. We are simply instruments, simply hands and feet participating in the ongoing work of God.