Messy

Where no oxen are, the crib is clean; But much increase is by the strength of the ox. (Proverbs 14:4)

I don't know whether my face had twisted into a knot, or whether he was reminding himself. This verse was the way Pastor Mori started our first major conversation. "We could go for cleanliness. And that's the choice that the Japanese tend to make. But we really need the strength of oxen right now. So it's messy around here." Timely, indeed. We had about sixty volunteers here at Global Mission Center yesterday, and the morning scramble to assemble work teams was getting a bit chaotic. I ended up getting switched around from one task to another several times. My luggage finally made it into the hallway of the three-story building last night. There just wasn't room before then. 

Every time I walk through the central room there's a new face. I never know which language to start with. The Brazilian lady doesn't know either of my languages. 

Carpenters. Christian musicians. English teachers. A feisty delivery truck girl. A grandma who owns the kitchen. A four-year-old boy picking on the guitar guy. A Christian Tai Chi instructor. Two hair stylists. Everyone else you could possibly imagine. Except that guy who just rushed by. Nobody could imagine that guy. 

Nationalities? Japanese, Korean, Taiwanese, American, Brazilian, Norwegian, Canadian, Indonesian, some others I'm forgetting, and various mixtures thereof. 

Don't even get me started on personalities. There are actually people odder than me in this world, and they're all here. 

Efficient? No, not really. But ten guys in a shelter got over-fed for once by a bunch of ladies. I heard of sixteen free haircuts. After Beauty got away from The Flirt, unloading the supply trucks went pretty smoothly.  The Brazilian team got their plans made for the next trip. Relief goods were distributed. Sea water got removed from a crawl space under someone's house. Sand and debris was removed from another. Powerful prayers were prayed. Shoulder massages were given.  Meals were made and eaten. Songs of praise and joy were sung. Tears were shared. We all left a mess and even cleaned up part of it. 

Best yet, the 23-year-old guy we brought back from the evacuation shelter for a proper haircut for work stuck around for the evening to hang out with guys his age, and was relaxed and smiling. 

Life won here. Pardon the mess.