Flipped Upside Down

I was reading this morning from Philip Yancey's "The Jesus I Never Knew" and was struck by the beautitudes, once again. This mentality of life flipped upside down. Of living the opposite of the American dream. But what hit me the most was his recollection that Mother Teresa herself spent sixteen years teaching the elite of the elite in Calcutta before disabling her life and living with the poor.
The book section speaks of Yancey's interactions with the "rich & famous" in contradiction with the "poor and destitute" and the people who have taken their PhDs to serve them. It is an interesting paradox, for sure, of the contrast and the state of the people. He remarks that celebrities often are the most miserable lot. But the Amazon doctors, the Chicago homeless shelter directors, the AIDS clinic volunteers, and the countless others who have chosen to life a life devoted to giving of themselves, are those who are most peace. Who feel the intensity of their call and fulfillment.
What I wonder is: how does one take all these faculties of life and be so surrendered that they walk away from it all?
I want to be this type of person. Who lets go of my amazingly cushioned bed and load of pillows, of my soup and bread at Panera, of my music playlists intricately picked on my ipod, and my family days on Lake Michigan with nothing but the boat underneath us dividing us from the waves... The type of person who lets it all go with reckless abandon and takes that Brennan Manning "Ruthless Trust" step to really live, serve, and give.
I think of people who challenge me with a life well-livid. My Granny Smith. Kevin Prins who, after 16 years as a carpenter, packed up his family and moved to minister in Barbados. Of Ed & Christie Miedema and their family transferring life from the States to Haiti back and forth to minister and give and live in both. Of my grandpa who gave so generously of his wealth without others knowing. Of my missionary friends in the Philippines, Kenya, and all over. Of people who open their houses without notice and let people stay who need a place of peace for a time. Of the Boiler Room and other prayer houses in downtown Grand Rapids and the people there who grant access into their community and follow the paths of the unknown. And of the countless others who have lived sacrificially in other ways.
How does one learn this giving? How does one completely let go off all their possessions, their lifestyle, their native culture? I recognize this is an attitude and a soul spirit, more than the actual context of living, but still, it challenges me.
So, Mother Teresa. Lived with the lavish, lived with the lepers. But in every mark it seems, she lived a life well lived.
What does this mean for me? For us? How can we/I live a life well lived in this moment, this space of time, this context and geographical area? What does this mean for the future? How much courage, risk, and disassemblement is involved?

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I must add and strongly note here, that I believe it is important to mention that Jesus was not ONLY with the oppressed. He devoted much of his time and the stories of the gospel miracles to them, but he also had friends who were rich, business women who funded his ministry, and saved people on the Sanhedrin. I think this point is necessary to make because I find, in some context, it seems we limit Jesus' life to only caring about he oppressed and in our modern society, we label a hierarchy of giving as missions in this Christian walk as such. But there are also many who are elite or intellectuals or wealthy who are needed also in this kingdom. I think of Ravi Zacharias who fuels the intellect and challenges the apologetics of the intellectuals, and Henri Nouwen who does the same at Harvard. Of Presidents and Kings and Rulers who have impacted for the good. Of businessmen who impact their social circles and work with integrity. Of friends of mine who make good money supporting non-profits, or send others to med-school and overseas with their earnings. It is easy for me to chastise the wealthy want to throw my own stones [though in many respects, I am one of them], so I add this postscript to diffuse the belief that only the poor are worth loving. We are all worth loving. Its just that it challenges my way of thinking and living to see what some people do in their loving.