The Longer I Stay, The Less Certain I Become

It's 2:17 AM as I'm writing this.

I woke up a couple of hours ago and couldn't get back to sleep.

Nobody is in danger. Nothing dramatic happened tonight. I just couldn't stop thinking.

One of the unexpected gifts of this season has been realizing that many of you have become people I can process things with like sitting around a fire after a long day and talking honestly about what's rolling around in your head, so instead of waking up Whit in the middle of the night, I’m going to talk to you.

So that's what this is. Not a teaching. Not a solution. Just some thoughts from a guy lying awake in Cape Town trying to make sense of things.

Over the last few weeks, conversations have changed...

Over the last few weeks, conversations have changed.

You can feel it.

News spreads through WhatsApp before it reaches the newspapers. Rumors travel quickly. Friends compare notes. People pay closer attention to what is happening around them.

One of the clearest examples is transportation.

Several of my friends live in Masiphumelele but work at the mall. Their shifts start before sunrise and often end after dark. Walking isn't considered safe during those hours, so many people sacrifice a significant portion of their income to use Uber.

It's not ideal, but it works.

Or at least it did.

Recently, tensions within the transportation industry have created enough uncertainty that many Uber drivers no longer feel comfortable picking up passengers in certain areas. The details are difficult to pin down. Some of it is rumor. Some of it is firsthand stories. Some of it involves long-standing conflicts over routes, territory, and money.

What everyone agrees on is that something has changed.

A couple of taxi drivers were killed this week. We were praying with the police when they were sending the response. Uber drivers are nervous because they “compete” with taxis. Passengers become more cautious, but people still need to get to work.

That reality has been sitting with me.

At the same time, another conversation has been growing louder.

Across South Africa, discussions about immigration, resources, jobs, and borders have become increasingly intense.  Whit and I have seen both sides of that story.

When we were in Zimbabwe, it wasn't unusual to see two neighboring homes with dramatically different realities. Often the difference came down to whether someone in the family was working in South Africa and sending money home.

One family had electricity. Another didn't. One family had opportunities. Another was struggling to survive. The money crossing that border is flattened to a political issue.. But the truth is it was dinner. It was school fees. It was hope, freedom and a sacrifice for the next generation.

Then you come to South Africa and hear another side. You meet people who are struggling to find work. People don't have housing. People frustrated by systems that already feel stretched beyond capacity. People who look around and wonder how much more pressure their communities can absorb.

And suddenly everyone has a story that makes sense. Everyone ...even the person we like to dismiss as "not understanding the facts."

Everyone is carrying stuff that’s TRUIE and mistaking it for THE TRUTH.

This  isn't one of those observations I can neatly package into a lesson. I find myself carrying it around. Thinking about it while driving. Thinking about it while praying. Thinking about friends who are trying to navigate situations where none of the options feel particularly good.

Part of me wants clarity. Part of me wants someone to explain exactly what's happening and who's responsible. Part of me wants a solution. Instead, I mostly find myself feeling the weight of it because these aren't news stories anymore. They're friends.

The longer I stay here, the less interested I become in categories and the more interested I become in faces.

One of the most humbling realizations of this year is that many of the people I am tempted to feel sorry for are living lives I am not equipped to live. Like if our lives were suddenly switched tomorrow, I wouldn’t survive.  They are building businesses, getting to work, and buying food ...and I wouldn’t even know how to find a place to stay.  I get to live in two worlds - I get to leave when I want, many of my friends have to make it work in one.

It's easy to imagine that if people just had access to what we have access to, they would be fine. What is harder to admit is that if we suddenly had to carry what they carry, we might not be.

That realization has a way of dismantling superiority.

The longer I stay, the less certain I become.

Suddenly I lose  my ability to simplify people. I lose my ability to identify villains from a distance. I lose my appetite for solutions that fit neatly into social media posts.

And the more I lose, the more life  keeps bringing me back to Jesus.

When Jesus stepped into the tensions of His day, people wanted answers. They wanted policies. They wanted formulas. They wanted Him to tell them who was right and who was wrong. Who belonged and who didn't. Who deserved mercy and who deserved judgment. Who was friend and who was enemy.

The same things we want today. Clear sides. Clear categories. Clear solutions.

Sometimes I imagine Jesus coming out of the wilderness and hearing His Father say:

"You have three years." …Three years to reveal the Father, prepare disciples, confront darkness, alter human history, redeem the people, and make a way for the Kingdom to come.

If anyone had a reason to become obsessed with efficiency, it was Jesus, and yet He chose something else.  He went fishing!!

He walked. He ate dinner with people. He attended weddings. He stopped for interruptions. He had private conversations. He listened. He forgave people. He slipped away to pray. He stayed connected to His Father. From a human perspective, it feels wildly inefficient.

Maybe that's part of why I keep coming back to Him lately.

Because I don't always know the answer, the right policy, or  how every tension should be resolved.

But I know Jesus really well and I know what He would tell me to do.  Keep your heart soft. Stay humble. Listen carefully. Love the person in front of you. Forgive quickly. Stay connected to the Father.

Those aren't simplistic answers. They're just slower answers and maybe that's why they're so difficult for me. I prefer formulas because they make me feel in control.

The longer I stay the more I’m aware I don’t have the solution, but I’m grateful I know The Way