Elusive Rhythm

I think we thought that when we arrived, we would settle into a regular rhythm – maybe not at first, but reasonably quickly. Now, as we’ve crested the hill and are travelling fast down towards the end of our time, we’ve realised a) it hasn’t happened and b) we are still craving it. I wonder how long it would take. Six months? A year? It caught us a little by surprise – we still have days of work and days to explore and days with guests and days where we mix all of it together – but every week has been different, no two alike. I’m not a drummer, but I wonder if it is something like the difference between the dependable and, yes, at times, monotonous thump of a kick drum in your standard 4/4 rock song (it’s not going to wow you, but it’s necessary, reliable and comfortable) versus the syncopated brush strokes of a jazz drummer who holds the centre of a beat but dances in and around it – it’s exciting, balanced on a knives edge – but it feels fragile -   it’s not that there’s no structure – it’s just less explicit). In the true sense of the word, a break from the normal, our time in Jordan has most definitely been a sabbatical. And yet, perhaps in all the adventure and experiences, there has been less time to rest. To be still. To draw down deeper into the word and sabbath.

So, over the next month, where we can, we are trying to prioritise those moments. A night in a hotel by the Dead Sea. A hike through a Wadi. Conversations. Conversations about the last 6 years (how long we’ve been in Tasmania), the previous 15 years (yes, married 16 in January) and discussions about the next 6, the next 16. A day or two with nothing booked (perhaps with children still to wrangle) but space to think, read, pray, and write. Time to reflect, to be still long enough for those reflections to take shape and look back at us, and perhaps even speak to us, to allow God to speak with us. [Reader feedback invited: Feel free in the comments below to add the practices you have felt most vital for you – it might inspire us to try a few things in the coming weeks!]

One of the greatest blessings of being here has been special people who have gone beyond wanting to know us (a genuine gift in itself) or seeing us (as more than a ‘ministry family’) but who have sensed our need for rest and stillness and want to help facilitate it – let me say it another way – we have been so blessed by people, who despite barely knowing us and without any assurance of on-going relationship beyond our time in Jordan have invested in us - invested in our well-being – they have given of themselves for our sake, it has cost them something. And we are so grateful.

We continue to experience many facets of the culture – both Jordanian and the expatriate culture we serve. This might at various times include experiences like:

·      Eating deep-fried sheep testicles (well done, James and Ana Laura – but neither went back for seconds) to eating pizza at the American Embassy (many from the church work there). It was so interesting to experience a small slice (pun intended) of diplomatic life within Jordan. Worlds within worlds.

·      Conversations with majority-faith people here about the virtues of having multiple wives (James stayed very quiet on this one) or the differences and similarities of many bible stories as told and interpreted under Islam. It would seem that taxi drivers have no qualms about encouraging us to consider the benefits of Islam.

·      Meeting refugees from Syria and Iraq – we hope to learn more in this space and want to dedicate an entire blog post to those experiences should they continue to .

·      We’ve listened to people speak about the ongoing cultural stigma of mental illness and the lack of recognition and care for Jordanian orphans in a culture where many remain ‘nameless’ – if not literally, then certainly concerning recognition. We’ve also met some heroic people who sacrifice themselves to make a difference.

It’s interesting as people back home in Australia wrestle with how to vote in our upcoming referendum on whether to enshrine ‘The Voice constitutionally’  - [not a singing contest for our non-Aussie readers but the name given to a new body whose role is to represent Aboriginal and Torre Strait Islander people across Australia who will have input into the decisions, policies and laws that the government and parliament make] that the people who have inspired us here are those actively giving of themselves to the ‘voiceless,’ the ‘nameless,’ not just through advocacy but by tangibly meeting the needs of those who are not recognised here. It forces us to wrestle with the question of our part to play back home.    

Kerryn and I recently came to the shared observation that one of the things we both find most meaningful and life-giving is deep conversations. We have been so fortunate to have these. We have met people whose lives challenge and inspire us, whose stories are so different from our own and from whom we can learn – whether that be local Jordanians or expats working and living here. For example, we get to speak to expat teenagers at Youth who have already, in their young lives, lived in several countries, like Kenya, Ivory Coast, and now Jordan and listen to them and their families about how this impacts and informs life and faith even as we seek in some small ways to encourage. We are very thankful for this – we can also sense that God is using it to broaden our perspective and understanding of the world and His work in it, and we hope and trust that this might mould and shape us into people who reflect more and more the love of Jesus.

I hope, too, that one of the joys of coming back home, with the return of the familiar, will be the rediscovery for our family of a recognisable rhythm – perhaps with elements of new, healthier patterns that allow us to rest and recover in the cut and thrust of everyday life. I never thought I’d say this, but perhaps less jazz and more rock.