Risk Taking is a Risky Business, Especially in Pakistan. Or, is it?

About 120 men* and I got on some airplanes and headed off to Pakistan in December 2006. An earthquake had killed 80,000 people (and destroyed the homes of so many) both in the cities and mountainous regions. Our assignment was to build as many shelters as possible in the mountains before the winter snow came. It was truly a “Wild at Heart” experience for those of you who are familiar with that book by John Eldridge.

I was on what we called the “third wave” or third group out of the 120. The first risk we encountered (even before our departure) was not one I'd anticipated ahead of time. We were getting reports that men on the first two waves were arriving without their gear and without their clothing. It sort of got lost in the airline-baggage-shuffle. Guys were out there, bumming clothes and food off others, sort of like soldiers in D-Day who lost weapons and ammo on the drop (Not nearly the desperation of D-Day, by any means, of course). We all got on the plane and prayed we’d receive our luggage on the other side.

The second risk was more personal. My knee had been severely bothering me. I didn't know the source of the pain, but it was real and it was freaking me out, thinking about hiking and working at four to eight thousand feet. I’d procrastinated seeing a doctor and this shelter building trip came up too quickly to see a doctor before we left. I was fully funded and ready to go, but I was afraid I might tear an ACL or something hiking up those mountains. I confided in two friends of mine (also on the trip) for their advice. They encouraged me to go as far as I could. Get me at least to the base camp, even if I couldn't work. Or, if was working and something snapped, they told me they'd carry me back down if they needed to. Talk about a couple of guys who had my back; or, my knee, for that matter.

The other risks were sickness, fatigue, radical religious people who might not like us, and finally all of the mysteriousness of residing among the mountain people of Pakistan for a week. The most difficult risk for married men was being away from their loved ones for such an extended period of time and the strain that meant to their relationships.

To tell you the truth, we all fell victim to every single one of these risks, at one point or another. Several lost their luggage, a number of us (including myself) got sick, men who missed their wives looked like sick dogs, and everyone was physically strained. One of the men from a previous group had a heart attack and died on the mountain.

What happened to my knee? All along the plane flight it had been hurting even more than before and I thought for sure I had committed some sort of wrong doing by bringing my hurt knee out there to get me into a jam that others would have to care for. Not to mention either that others had funded me for this humanitarian aid action and I thought maybe I was even morally wrong for taking my bad knee and their money.

I've had this weird/irrational sense of moral "wrongness" too in pursuing relationships, as if I'd be morally wrong in pursing them because I might hurt the other person. Or, what if we never had children because we thought we might hurt them? The human race would vanish.

Getting back to the story, I couldn't help but think of my two friends who had encouraged me to go, volunteered to haul me out of there, and thought that it was better for me to go than not to go. Thank God I listened to their advice. Not so much for the results, but because I let them help me, protect me, and meet my need in that moment. Essentially, I had let them love me.

What happened to my knee? It got better. The more I hiked up the mountain, the better it got. The more I worked, the better it got. I checked my knee out later with a doctor and X-ray results showed a minor case of arthritis in my left knee. The mountain essentially rehabilitated my knee.

Risk taking. It's a risky business, especially in Pakistan.

Or, is it? What is the riskier thing to do--build shelters in Pakistan and risk physical harm, or the risks we take in relationships with husbands, wives, children, church, business, and our own hearts? When I trust someone enough to risk letting them help me in an area of my life that I cannot, then that is some serious risk taking. I risk getting taken advantage of, betrayed, or at best, misunderstood or finding someone who doesn't know how to help me. The old patterns want to take over. I want to run, hide, and protect myself from a violation of such trust in the future. I won't risk relationships with others, the very thing that I need the most.

Finally, there is a payoff. When I find others I can trust with who I really am, then I can begin to heal by receiving their love. Just like I allowed my friends to encourage me to get on the plane with my hurting knee (which was then rehabilitated) so too I must take the risk of finding those who I can trust to help me with my "spiritually broken knees". This is the greatest risk taking of all.

Do you have a couple others who can help you get on the plane with your huring knee or your hurting spirit? If not, then you gotta find them.**
______________________________________
*I can't actually remember the exact number.
**For help on how to do this, read "True Faced: Trusting God and others with who you really are" by Thrall, McNichol, & Lynch. Also, "Making Small Groups Work" by Cloud and Townsend is a huge help.