Grace-period

Armchair QB

2012-02-12T17:08:00.000-05:00

Oh, the lovely chapter 5 of Paul's letter to the Ephesians. It causes feminists to bristle and men to stick out their chests, right? Well....not if you read the chapter.

Today Kirk led Hope farther into the text, to how the husbands should treat their wives. You can read the verses here.

Now, based on my earlier post on submission, y'all, (all 2 readers that I have and one of you is my husband), probably think that I would be hooting and cheering. Not really. What I thought was actually how odd that things seem so backwards in society.

Perhaps it is the feminist movement of the 70s that all my friends who are mothers and also work full time outside the house despise, or the self focused, self help generation of the 80s, or just the ancient, good old, sinful self-centeredness of the ages. Somewhere, we as women, have gotten so used to giving up all dreams for the good of the family that when women began to gain more rights in the culture, we decided that men needed to submit to our needs.

We give so much of ourselves away in pursuing our own interests, our own benefit, that we don't want to share what little we have left. We no longer need a man for security so he better put out, shut up, help out. No one can tell us that we can't do something. No one can tell us what to do with our bodies. No one can disrespect us by not loving us the way we want loved. No one can make us stay when we don't feel in love.

Genesis 3 describes the curses that resulted from sin. Women would want their husbands but the husband would rule over them and men would have to work very hard, not the work of the garden but the struggle of toil. Basically, God told both that there would be no rest, no security. So if that is the state of marriage after the fall, what about now?

What does Ephesians tell us about the redemption of marriage?

While I still dislike the submission word, I understand it. I understand it because I am a woman. I understand it because my life was no longer my own when I gave birth to my son. Because when his father chose to walk away, I still had my son to consider. Because when everyone is sick, mothers still care for the family. Because it is in our nature somehow. Because we are given baby dolls to care for and kitchen sets to cook in as little girls. We teach our girls to consider others before themselves.

Perhaps Paul went to more pains to be explicitly clear with the husband about what their role is because it is not one of being the superior to the wife, as their culture seemed to paint it. Men needed to see the picture of what "submit to one another" looks like. And it is painted in the blood of Jesus.

I don't hoot and cheer because I don't want my husband to struggle. I don't want him to be uncomfortable. Sure, sometimes I would rather he just put out, shut up and help out, but it isn't long until I remember that I love him, his strength, his tenderness, his wisdom, and everything gets set right again.

Dear Jesus, keep working on our hearts!

How do you see....

2012-02-11T21:13:00.000-05:00

I was angry earlier this week. While I want to buy into submission, all I have ever seen associated with it is a twisted devaluing of the marriage relationship. Never have I seen it pleasant or what I would consider godly. My grandmother, who is probably one of the most God fearing women I know, once told me that how she saw submission is the man is the head, but the woman is the neck that turns the head.

I "get" that, but it has left me dissatisfied with a sense of underhandedness that I am sure she did not mean.

Must we be so covert in our dealings with our spouse as to allow him to "think" that he is in charge because he is too dumb to realize that he isn't?

Or is there a way to honor both the husband and the wife in a relationship, not at the expense of the other?

While I have been wrestling with this subject, a friend, who is not a Christian, was listening to what I was working through this week. I casually mentioned this topic of submission and she gasped, "You don't believe in that do you?!?!"

My nonChristian friends see me as submissive because I pack my husband's lunch or ask him before I fill my schedule. I don't see it as submissive, just being courteous to someone who shares my house and caring about making sure that he and I have time together.

I will continue to wrestle with this-not because I am rebellious, tho I am-but because I love my life with my husband and I know that God hasn't given us marriage merely as permission to have sex. We have been married too long to believe that anyway.

Everytime I think that we are getting somewhere, arriving, that it is getting easier, God chuckles and throws us something new. I really do love my life and my God.

And my husband.

Armchair QB-Submission

2012-02-05T13:52:00.000-05:00

It has been a while since I have blogged, but Hope gave me a great topic and I am gonna get right to it:

Ephesians 5:21-24

New International Version (NIV)

Instructions for Christian Households

Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

The world often sees submission as this:

I can see it as that as well, but I can also define it a little better now.

I cannot do it all. Submission to me looks a lot like a housewife. Or worse yet, a woman who works outside the home and is still expected to do the work inside the home. Submission looks like a man on the couch while the woman does the cooking, the dishes, & the laundry. Submission looks like a lopsided relationship when it is great to be a man and totally sucks to be a woman. Submission is a frisky man and a tired wife. Submission is the man not understanding why the wife is upset. Submission is a mindset that disbelieves in hormonal upheaval.

All of this is why I hate this topic.

The submission that I would like to see is understanding, loving, supporting, filling in the gaps. Yeah, I am dreaming.

Sometimes I wonder how I can buy into the Christian thing and struggle so hard against some tenets. Like, why bother at all?

Then I remember, it is not about all this crap. And I breath a sigh of relief.

Now back to the dishes.

Waiting in Darkness

2011-12-18T09:49:00.000-05:00

“Arise, shine, for your light has come,
and the glory of the LORD rises upon you.
See, darkness covers the earth
and thick darkness is over the peoples,
but the LORD rises upon you
and his glory appears over you.
Nations will come to your light,
and kings to the brightness of your dawn.

Isaiah 60:1-3

You don't have to look too hard to find darkness. A fellow blogger who wrote about her family following Jesus to love the least of these by adopting a child with HIV lost her army husband in a helicopter crash this past week. A family, a couple towns over, lost their twin sons and a daughter in a car accident. The week before, a high school lost 5 teenagers in a different car crash. A friend struggles with paying the bills or buying her children Christmas gifts. One of my friend's relationship struggles with the destructive forces of drug addiction. A dear friend miscarries yet another baby.

Frankly, I don't want this world to be the way it is, all that there is, all that there is supposed to be. I don't want it to be normal for mommas to have empty arms or children to believe hunger pain is a part of life or greed to be the status quo. I believe this wrongness is one of the strongest arguments for the rightness of God's way. And I want to believe that Jesus is going to set things right, that he will come back as he said.

Sometimes, well, sometimes it feels foolish. While the world scoots by on its business as usual, I am left in the darkness waiting on my God who is silent. The world doesn't even seem to perceive its blindness, but instead tries to trick me into believing that I am the one who is blind, or at least dumb. Everything is a-ok, the world calls to me. But I hear cries from others, I feel my stomach flip and I know: this is not ok, not remotely ok.

Did you know that there are like 400 years between the last words of the Old Testament and the first of the New? My country isn't even that old. Neither is my denomination. I have no genealogy going back that far. There is no way for me to feel that length of time. But I bet it feels like forever.

One evening my husband and I were to go to a meeting together. I got home first and took care of the dogs, changed clothes and waited. And I waited. The time that he usually came home had passed so I called his cell phone. No answer. I got on Facebook to amuse myself and when I thought that a sufficient amount of time had passed, I called again. No answer. I texted. No response. Was he mad at me for something? I know I sometimes forget to pack clean underwear for him when we go camping and I am not the most consistent person or the Suzy Homemaker he deserves. I ignored those accusations by turning on the TV with my phone in hand. I called every 15 minutes. I considered calling the emergency room. Maybe he was unable to respond to his phone because he was in a coma. As I was debating which hospital to call first, the phone rang. My husband was upset, wondering why I didn't join him at the meeting.

While it was just one evening, it felt long enough. These things are some of the very same things I go through with God when he feels distant-pretending that I can make my own way without him, amusing myself with the world's diversions, worrying that I am not good enough or lovable enough, and of course, praying and reading and learning to be a "good" Christian.

All those exercises toward being a good Christian, a faithful one that is not visibly affected by the hits sin takes on the lives around us, who demonstrates pious patience....well, sometimes they are just not enough. Sometimes my soul aches for my Lord to ride in, save the day, and set things right. Or even to hear him whisper to hold steady, that he is almost there. Isn't it easier to hold on just a couple moments longer when you know that help is just down the hall? When you can finally hear that reassuring voice?

We remember Jesus' birth at this time of year. We read the prophets speak about this king who will be born to save them. This Advent I have thinking about the next Advent, the next time a king arrives. While the birth we celebrate went relatively unnoticed, there is nothing that will be left unnoticed in the next Advent. While he was born as an innocent baby that first Advent, the next Advent...well...he ain't gonna be someone you want to mess with:

I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and wages war. His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him that no one knows but he himself. He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God. The armies of heaven were following him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean. Coming out of his mouth is a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. “He will rule them with an iron scepter.”He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS. Revelation 19:11-16

I mean, really, you man enough to take him on???

But we wait in darkness for now. We wait in a swamp of sin and death and pain. We love those we can. We mend brokeness, heal wounds, forgive hurts, but we cannot set things right. Not without him. While it is sometimes long and quiet and cold, the night can only last for so long. Morning will come. The dawn will break. A new day...a new world...a new King. Come soon, Lord!

He who testifies to these things says, “Yes, I am coming soon.”

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

The grace of the Lord Jesus be with God’s people. Amen.

Revelation 22:20-21

My name is Jaime and I am....

2011-12-14T20:30:00.000-05:00

a snarky Christian.

Yeah, I wish it weren't this way. I wish I could jump on the band wagons to boycott stores that don't express appropriate holiday cheer or threaten advertisers during TV shows that don't match my agenda. I wish I could claim that the founding fathers of this country actually shared my belief system with a straight face.

Unfortunately, I find no joy in pointing a finger at you. It neither elevates me nor creates space for discussion between us. Instead, I feel superior and you know that I am a jerk. Yippee.

While many people can say that society is falling apart, I would counter with a request that they assess their age and the opinion of their parents at that same age. If you have a Christian point of view, it is hopefully no surprise to you that this world is broken. However, I would also hope that you know where you can place your faith. (And frankly, I find plenty of places where God is at work thru His people. That gives me hope!)

It should not be in Christianizing this country or carrying on that it is no longer "One nation under God." Really, whether any person wants to admit that there is a God is irrelevant. We are just a corrupt nation of sinners under God. But, hey, we always were!

I don't want to belong to a club which pouts that the world is "going to hell in a handbasket." (Like duh, anyway.) I cannot help believing in Jesus. Sucks to be me that I am saddled with some of you.

Ok, well, I feel better for getting that off my chest. It is good to be here tonite, and I guess I will just have to keep coming back. Thanks for letting me share.

Be Incarnational Love

2011-12-12T17:34:00.001-05:00

I went to see The Help a while back with a couple of friends. On our way out of the theater, one of them asked what prejudice we might have in our modern society that 50 years later will be unfathomable. Thinking that there was a time in American history when persons of a darker skin tone were not considered human was unfathomable for me. I was still a bit speechless from the journey of the characters through the movie and found myself searching my own heart: Who are the marginalized today that will make us look foolish?

With Advent season here, I have been thinking about this question again. I have some specific answers, for me, that are not attractive, but here goes. I am very uncomfortable with nursing homes that smell like stale urine and bland food, where it seems that we store old people who have outlived their usefulness, where residents might wander up to you and kiss you or scratch you without knowing who you are (or who they are). I also don't do well with people who are mentally ill or mentally handicapped. Their stories can be difficult to understand and their moods sometimes unpredictable. I also find it difficult to be around them when they don't "behave" appropriately in public. This discomfort began when I was in high school and there were often mentally handicapped adults on the bus home who were acting out sexually which was both gross and embarrassing.

I find myself ashamed of these prejudices, but it is really that I am awkward and uncomfortable more than truly prejudiced. I don't know how to be in the presence of these individuals, how to relate to them. What do you talk about to people who will not understand? How do you live among people who cannot do what you can? Each of these groups are so different than me. I care for myself. I know who I am. I find purpose and worth in my work. I understand social norms and boundaries and when I cross them, I mean to, usually. Perhaps this self reliance and pride is what made me struggle so much after losing my job. Perhaps this self determination and arrogance is what gets in the way of my relationships with people that I care about. Perhaps these traits also make me more reserved and resistant to surrender.

And then I think about Jesus. I thought about him at church on Sunday, about how little I know him. What I know about him is the difference he has made in my life and the lives of others, but I couldn't pick him out of a lineup. I don't know where he lives that I could send him a letter, or know his email address for that matter. I don't know what he likes to do in his free time, if he even has any time he isn't speaking things into creation & changing hearts from stone, or if he has "time."

When I think about what his life might be like, figuring it has to be more amazing than I could even imagine, since his ways and thoughts are higher than mine, I wonder why he loved us so much, how he loved us so much. He left his glorious existence with the Father behind and slipped into the temporary & feeble flesh of man. He chose incarnation to demonstrate his love for us. Choosing this, he knew most couldn't understand him, wouldn't accept him and instead that we would scratch him, curse him, refuse him. He is so much more than all of our goodness piled together, and yet he tolerated us. He really didn't tolerate us; he spent time with us. He ate dinner. He celebrated. He taught. He laughed. He worked. He suffered. He sacrificed. He died. He rose. He loved. He promised.

Our sins don't put him off, our humanity doesn't gross him out or our messiness embarrass him. Jesus entered into the mess of humanity on purpose, lovingly. And I wonder if incarnation wasn't to be a one time event over 2,000 years ago, if perhaps he wants us to follow where he leads.

While I love Jesus and pray that he changes my heart, digging out the sin that hides there, in this season of Advent, I have been praying specifically that I might trust him, the way he trusted the Father, that I might not be afraid of stepping into the messiness of others lives, and instead do as Jesus did, so that I can show them that they are loved, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whose messiness do you have trouble stepping into? Is it the child with the runny nose whose parents don't seem to mind her carefully enough? The homeless man who needs a bath and clean clothes? The mentally ill woman who wanders the streets clutching a doll as though it were her child? The family from a foreign culture whose food smells funny and speak a language you cannot understand? The Christian who is snarky and self righteous? (Uh-oh, there is another prejudice for me!)

Need Hope

2011-11-29T07:38:00.000-05:00

Why should you be beaten anymore?
Why do you persist in rebellion?
Your whole head is injured,
your whole heart afflicted.
From the sole of your foot to the top of your head
there is no soundness—
only wounds and welts
and open sores,
not cleansed or bandaged
or soothed with olive oil.

Isaiah 1:5-6

How long, LORD, must I call for help,
but you do not listen?
Or cry out to you, “Violence!”
but you do not save?
Why do you make me look at injustice?
Why do you tolerate wrongdoing?
Destruction and violence are before me;
there is strife, and conflict abounds.
Therefore the law is paralyzed,
and justice never prevails.
The wicked hem in the righteous,
so that justice is perverted.

Habakkuk 1:2-4

But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.”

“‘If you can’?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for one who believes.”

Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”

Mark 9:22-24

When I think of the season of Advent, I think first of the darkness we must learn to wait within.

Knowing that Jesus will be born at the end of this time can give us a warm fuzzy, but the people who waited for generations, centuries, millenia, could only hope but did not know, even as we hope for Him to come again but we do not know when.

During this week, I have been thinking of the darkness that we dwell in, and the darkness within us. I know exactly what so many of my sins are, but I cannot rid myself of them. I try. I want to look better to the world around me. I don't want them to see my pride and jealousy and selfishness and greed. My husband knows my struggles with these things, but I think he keeps that to himself, probably ashamed. So I turn away from them, as best I can, and wait for the relief that only comes from His healing.

I look at the darkness around me, flowing over people that I love, and I feel powerless to help. I cannot even help myself-what can I do for them, but cry to my Father for His rescue. Sometimes, the silence burns.

Then, like the father in the story, I feel chastised by Jesus. "Everything is possible for one who believes." I so want to believe that I can be healed, that the darkness will be defeated within me and around me, that rescue for all is near, but there is a mocking within my heart. How many times have there been prayers that fell back to earth unanswered? How many times was I merely shouting at the night sky? I want to believe-that He hears me, that He will answer me, that He will come for us. I do believe, but I need His help to overcome my disbelief.

So we wait, trying to be patient, learning to live within the darkness but not too comfortably. We want to be ready when the dawn comes.

Is it over?

2011-11-25T10:28:00.000-05:00

So for those of you unlucky folks that follow both my blog & me on Facebook, you know that I have been posting "a month of gratitude" snippets as my status for the month of November because this is the month that Americans celebrate being grateful. I have to admit, what I have been looking forward to celebrating for the last week or so: the "end" of focusing on Thanksgiving and the beginning of Advent this Sunday.

I really like the liturgical season of Advent. There is something so appropriate about waiting for the Light of the world in the darkest days of our year. And not just waiting, but preparing. Today, while part of me would like to be out amidst the "Black Friday" shopping frenzy because I like 1) great deals 2) shopping and 3) chaos, I have chosen to remain at home. I don't really want to start off this season in chaos but in contemplation.

As I make room for the Advent wreath, I am reminded of the journey ahead, that this was a process of redemption set in motion long before, that I am silly to have my heart set on instant santification. I have been told many times that I am impatient. So many times actually, that I no longer bristle at the idea but instead smile and thank God (and the person) for the reminder. When I am not charging ahead, I do enjoy journeys. There is so much to see and explore when we move slowly, when I can be at peace knowing the destination will show itself at the right time but for now, I am where I am supposed to be.

As I make lists and ideas for upcoming celebrations, I take the time to thank God for the people he chose to place in my life. Many are individuals that I would not expect to befriend or have come from places and mindsets that were foreign to me. Today, my heart swells with love and pride when I consider each of them. I pray for their journey and their struggle. I consider how I might be able to bless them.

And I read. Want to know how weird I am? I read the geneaologies (here and here)! I remember when I was bored-to-tears, seriously, with that list of unpronouncable names. Now I just make up the sounds if I want, but I also go back and read some of the stories that were connected with those names. Again, I look at the process, how the plan of redemption and the relentless love of God was revealed over the generations. I am reminded that I am a part of this story as well, just a part.

The gratitude continues.

a month of gratitude:

so thankful for Jesus,

so thankful that He found me,

so thankful that He is still looking

Armchair QB

2011-11-14T18:17:00.000-05:00

I will let you listen to the message for Sunday if you wish by clicking here. While I would typically try to ground my post in the Biblical text, today, well, I am going to do it in song. Two songs in particular have been playing in my head, the first from Sunday morning and the second started later that evening. Both apply to the heart-set of the message that Kirk spoke, that I heard anyway.

Cause when we see you, we find strength to face the day

Paul Baloche "Hosanna"

Bring your love to life inside of me
Why don't you break my heart til it moves my hands and feet
For the hopeless and the broken
For the ones that don't know that you love them
Bring your love to life inside of me

Big Daddy Weave "Love Come to Life"

When I think of my own journey with God to church to Jesus, it still puzzles me. The ultimatum that my husband gave "we go to church or get a divorce" should not have ended up with us happily married *and* still in church. Or so I thought, along with: We didn't need church; We needed him to not be a jerk. Church people were brainless idiots and hypocrites. Church people are just as sick as we are, they just can dress it up a little better under a smile and their Sunday best, feeling good about themselves as they point to someone else's failings.

Yeah, we shouldn't still be here and engaged in the life of the church or interested in where our faith may lead us next. It wasn't for us.

But then the church we found wasn't like other churches we had known. After the gathering, we hung out and drank coffee. We sometimes went out to Red Robin and were rowdy like a recovering group, but we thanked God for our burgers before we ate. Some of us smoked before and after the Sunday night gathering outside the door. And the pastor and his family still greeted us, and even stopped to talk to us. This was not my family's church. I learned about the Bible through the teaching, but I learned about the relentless love of God and the grace of Jesus through the people we interacted with. We were not less than, tag alongs. We were friends. We were valuable. Without a profession of faith or an oath of allegiance to the church, we were encouraged to participate and to serve. We had contributions to make.

Somewhere along that line, my relationship with Jesus moved from disdain to desire. My relationship with believers changed from hostility to connection. My understanding of the church was no longer as an irrelevant hypocritical institution, but as my family. My marriage changed from adversarial to hopeful, and we were baptized together. While I thought he needed changing, what God did was work on transforming both our hearts so that we could love each other.

If Kirk hadn't followed the desire God gave him to develop community not ritual & to include those usually excluded, I wonder where our marriage might be today. I have no doubt our hearts would still be cold toward God and probably to each other. As we have been transformed through the work of the Spirit and the community of believers around us, we have also sought to invite others to join us. It is awkward at times. We have faltered and tripped over ourselves. But it remains our desire to be among those who are far from God that we might offer some hope, that we might show others that God really is relevant and that the journey with him doesn't shrink the brain or the will or the heart or the circle of friends but enlarge it beyond anything you can imagine!

As we see God working, it gives us hope, that nudge to continue despite the fear of rejection or being inadequate. Our strength is renewed to continue.

The second song, well, that has been my prayer for myself, but it is also my prayer for all of you-that when God changes your heart, that he might break it until you are so uncomfortable that you must do something to help, whether it be the effects of sin in the social setting-poverty and abuse, or the individual-addictions, hopelessness, lost in depravity. We aren't given hope just for ourselves! Jesus didn't come to humanity to stick out his tongue and brag on his father. He stepped into flesh to bring us to the father. It just seems natural as we are sent into our communities that we are to step into the world and show them our father, that the transformations of our hearts point to our father's goodness and mercy.

My father has loved me more than I deserve because that is what he does: love-relentlessly, wildly, sacrifically, carelessly, not because I am so lovable. That love has done something to me, made me more loving, made me desire to be part of God's love for the unlovely. Thank you, Kirk and the Sunday evening church, for loving us into the arms of our father. I pray that I may be able to do the same for another someday.

Orphaned

2011-11-06T09:25:00.000-05:00

Today is Orphan Sunday. Since 2003, churches have used this day as a way to not just raise awareness, but as a day when we consider how we are obeying the commandment to love our neighbor's as ourselves.

James 1:27 says that religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

We cannot ignore the orphaned. At the same time, I appreciate this quote from the book of John when Jesus says, I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you (14:18).

I do not have the ability or calling to adopt children, but I love the children I sponsor: Greys, Anchara, and Musa. I pray for them daily. I write to them about God's love and his purpose in their lives. Greys and Musa are too young to understand probably, but I still want them to know that they are not alone, that they have purpose, & that they can bring light into the darkness around them. We find a new family as God's children, no matter what continent we live on.

In a spiritual sense, we were all orphans. We were alone, making our way through the harsh landscape of our lives. That is why I love that Jesus doesn't ignore that loneliness. Instead he addresses it head on-I won't abandon you! I will be back! Isn't that what so many movies and stories reflect as the human heart's desire? That we are wanted by someone so much that nothing, not even death, can keep them away?

While I have not brought children into my home, they are in my heart. Take the time to consider your heart, if it could love another child, then check out some of the links below. Maybe you could sponsor a child in poverty, maybe you could foster parent, or maybe you can help another family adopt.

Sponsor a child:

Foster parent:

Bethany Christian Services

Help a family adopt:

Bring Joseph Home From Ethiopia

a month of gratitude:

2011-11-05T10:24:00.000-04:00

Being the month that American's celebrate Thanksgiving, I have hijacked November into being my own "a month of gratitude updates" on Facebook. I have had to laugh as different people have asked me what that "this month of gratitude thing is about" or as I watch people figure it out. I would like to practice gratitude as a lifestyle this month.

It is such a simple, and stupid, idea really, but as I have learned about extreme poverty globally, I have become more aware of everything I really do have. While what I own and my priorities have changed over my life, and may still change, there is always something to be grateful for, even if it is that I am just sucking air at that moment or that there is air to suck or that it has been over 8 weeks since my last cigarette or that I am sick and those white blood cells that are making all the snot that clogs my head is actually taking care of the germs that are attacking my body (ok, so that one is long and personal, but that is where I am today).

I have so much to be grateful about!

While it is only the 5th day of the month, this practice of gratitude has been relieving me of some of the insanity that usually permeates my life. Traffic. Cold weather. Cold symptoms. Grumpy husband. Grumpy me. I have been able to find positives where I would stay focuses on my need or discomfort. We'll see how that pans out for the rest of the month.

For now, I am grateful for a bed to go back to.

Baaaah

2011-10-30T09:17:00.001-04:00

Psalm 23

The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

In getting ready for Trunk or Treat at Hope this week, I was working on costume ideas. While it sounds fun, it felt overwhelming. I have lots of ideas so the decision process has been more about what could I reasonably execute with my time, energy and money available. Life has felt a little challenging lately. My mental energy has been higher than my physical which means I was chasing my tail a lot. I realized today that one of the reasons that I have been cranky is that I was getting a cold. Some people get cranky because they are sick; I get cranky before I get sick but am too caught up in my emotional storm to take notice until I am get physical symptoms and then I think, "duh."

I had this costume idea from a year or so ago that I didn't complete but instead stuck in my closet. In my search for reasonable ideas, I pulled it out and immediately began to think about the 23rd Psalm. You see, the costume is that of a sheep.

I have been meditating on this Psalm for a few days, and can I tell you how timely it is?! How good to be reminded that I have all I need, that my Shepherd refreshes me with safe places to rest, that I am never alone, will never be abandoned, and therefore have nothing to fear. He doesn't make me to run around, crazy in my head, unfocused, anxious. That is MY nature, not his direction. So I looked up some characteristics of sheep. Oh, how I see myself....

Sheep very vulnerable to fear, frustration, pests, hunger. I don't like being uncomfortable. If it is hard or scary or far off, I would just as soon not undertake it at all. I want it now. I want it to be easy. I want to see results. Otherwise, my attention shifts.

Sheep are perverse, stubborn-will insist on their own way, even eating poisonous plants or drinking dirty water. Oh, yes, I will admit, because if I didn't those of you who have my phone number would text me L-I-A-R....I am stubborn. I will do it my way. Totally a defect of my character. I am often like a 3 year old. I think God simultaneously laughs and runs after me

Sheep are jealous, competitive for dominance. (Raising my hand.) Yes, that foul was mine. I swear that I was not always a type A personality. Once upon a time, I was laid back. Now, I fight, for recognition, for respect, for my right-ness. Yeah, another defect of my character.

Sheep can be easily "cast"-helplessly flipped over on their back, unable to right themselves and they will die of starvation if not turned over by shepherd. Too much wool can cause sheep to be easily "cast." I would like to do many things. I am good at many things. I have interest in many things. Unfortunately, like everyone else, I have 24 hours in any day and in those hours I must work, eat, sleep, love friends and family, and catch up on Facebook. I am not good with balance. I don't understand it. Perhaps it is me trying to make up for lost time, lost opportunities. Whatever the issue is, not only does my cup run over with grace, but my plate runs over with activity and my to do list flows to the next notebook. At those times, a little thing like getting sick can push me over the edge. When I keep my life trimmed, I am less likely to fall apart.

Sheep need the most care of all livestock. I am so needy. I feel, and am, powerless over so much. I forget to pray so when life gets chaotic, there I am running around like a nut trying to hold it together. I forget to take my vitamins and end up sick or with more pain than usual. I need my husband and other friends to remind me that I am loved because my brain somehow disqualifies me from relationships. I am so needy. I refuse to embarrass myself further. Let's just leave it at that.

Sheep are totally dependent of shepherd for every need. Well, here is where I am going to veer because I know I try to do it myself, thanks to that stubborn streak. Do you ever forget the big stuff? Like, there are literally days when I think of God but don't talk to him. Yeah, I do that with my husband sometimes, too, but then he stands in my way until I tell him to get out of my way, which reminds me that I haven't told him I loved him lately and suddenly we are talking. I wish God kicked my butt a little more often like my husband. (And as I type that sentence I internally gasp at where God could take it. It is sort of like praying for patience. If you have ever done that, you know what I am talking about. If you haven't, well, take my word for it, don't.)

It isn't that I don't need God or that I don't want to talk to him, I just forget because I am too wrapped up in trying to make my world work!

I am fortunate to have a friend who was a shepherd, because it not only gives me a picture of who God is as my shepherd, but a clearer picture of myself as a sheep. Not this picture:

No, I wish my life looked like that.

Apparently the prophet Isaiah didn't think the sheep's lives looked like that either:

We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
each of us has turned to our own way;

Isaiah 53:6

But if I could calmly follow my shepherd, that would be so cool. Instead I am skittish and wander and rebellious. I am learning to trust my shepherd, tho, that he will take me to safe places of rest, that needs will be provided for, that I will not walk thru scary things alone, that gratitude is always the appropriate response, and that he will not leave me to my own skills.

Baaahhhh.

I Only Have Bandaids

2011-10-27T08:26:00.000-04:00

Did you ever wonder if you are crazy because your mind is exploding? Ok, me neither, but I have been obsessed this last couple weeks (just ask my poor husband).

While exploring ways to heal extreme poverty, I have been looking at what it might look like to live on about a dollar a day. And I cannot.

I cannot drive my car to work since the gallon of gas it would take me is $3.48. I cannot ride the bus either because one way is 2.15. I could not take my medicine because the total is 0.83 & I would still like to eat if possible, but at least flush my toilet once in a while (and that includes buying the 1.6 gallons of water that each flush takes and the daily fee of 0.80 for sewage). I haven't added in light bulbs or electricity (fridge) or heat (getting cold) or food (shopping for the old stuff at Amelia's will still add up).

So, I decided that I really cannot LIVE on a dollar a day. I could sit on my sofa, sipping water that I got from a creek down the hill, and peeing in the backyard, maybe. But the bigger thing, the thing that breaks my heart is that there are millions of people who are not living but existing on that $1 a day. I wish that I could do something important to make a difference. While eradicating poverty altogether would be terrific, I would just like to eradicate extreme poverty.

It brings me back to a long ago discussion. How do we affect the hearts of others?

How do we effectively, that is to affect someone, share the message of Jesus? In this very fun but very challenging, post-modern, it's-ok-for-you, sort of time? How is Jesus to become relevant to someone (and this has nothing to do with style)? Why is Jesus more difficult to be taken seriously than the 12 steps or Buddha or Islam? Is it just us weird followers? Is it the political religious right wing?

I think those things are more of an excuse. Perhaps that is because I think God so tenaciously pursues us.

In the field that I work in, it is important to come to the end of yourself, to have that gift of desperation. Without it, well, one isn't going to try any new ideas, let alone stay in treatment. When I still think that I can manage things, I will try. Pretty basic human nature stuff, I suppose.

It is only when our reserves, our last ditch attempt, our go to escape clause is depleted...when the money runs out, when the marriage is dying, when the body fails, when the bills drown us, when the sex is empty, when the drink/drug/smoke don't work anymore, that we begin to wonder-is there another way.

With the gift of desperation, God finds us more willing to consider, more open to His reality. That gift could be having made pathetic choices and winding up in a mess, or it could be just seeing your heart for the tangled knot of sin that it is. You can't buy it or force it on someone. Something intangible just seems to happen. Maybe the Holy Spirit?

I don't think being poor is more spiritual, by any means. As I said before, I grew up poor (though we loved the government cheese!!!), and it was full of moments of insecurity and humiliation (and that was as a child). But, I wonder if having less, having to rely on God for your daily bread very literally, doesn't have spiritual advantages. The average American, who doesn't have a relationship with God, doesn't seem to know where God would fit in their life or WHY they should try to figure that out. And some of them are people that I love dearly.

This breaks my heart, as much as those in extreme poverty, and I feel as inadequate to affect change with them as I do with that poverty.

Father, this sucks, being small and helpless, watching the physical and spiritual suffering of others. I want to heal and love and bring them to Your table. I want to drag and cajole and guilt. But You never did that for me. :) I am not special. I want you to get them, too! Use me if you can, kick me to the sidelines if you can't, but please, I know You love them so help me to be patient, to wait on You, to love them as You do. Sometimes I forget that You want to handle things and I struggle to try to do something myself, and it is so good when I remember! You do a better job at everything than I do!!! :)

Let It Begin With Me

2011-10-24T21:09:00.000-04:00

Since I have started this series of rants and wrestlings over what to do about extreme poverty, I have come up with answers that have questions and questions that lead to more questions. In the end, somehow I am back to me. (For those of you who do not know, the World Bank defines extreme poverty as living on less than $1.25 a day whereas Unicef defines it as living on less than $1. About 1 in 6 people fall into this category globally.)

There is this song that makes me want to sway like an ice skater when I hum it in my head. "Let...there...be peace...on earth...and let it begin....with me....Let....there...be peace...on earth...the peace that was meant....to be..." If it weren't such a hokey song, I may have attached the video, but the videos all seem much lamer than those phrases.

I wish that eradicating extreme poverty were as simple as microfinance and child sponsorship. I also wish that hurting marriages could be healed just with a therapist. The therapist helps, but not to get to the root of the problem. The root of problems such as this is too deep-it's sin. My marriage didn't begin to heal until Jesus kicked our butts. It is weird actually. Normal people have asked me which marriage therapist we went to; they wanted their phone number. They look at me sideways when I tell them Jesus was the only marriage counselor we had that made a difference.

I think poverty is maybe like that. Enabling someone to make a living or get an education is certainly important and worthy of time and money, but it can't be all of it. The strangest thing is that I have begun to wonder who is really poor: the one who has little or the one who never has enough?

When I talk to friends about how rich we are, they sometimes make fun of me. "Maybe you, but not me!" I used to think like that. Somewhere, this odd thing happened to my heart. I have had plenty with God and plenty without Him. I have struggled with Him and struggled without Him. Having God makes me rich. Sure, it is somewhat arrogant to speak like this when we started out talking about extreme poverty that I, admittedly, have never tasted, despite having grown up poor by American standards. Still, it is not the hollowness of belly or the lack of shelter that ever made me as insecure as the lack of purpose, of meaning, before He walked in.

Physical poverty is terrible, but so is spiritual poverty. We must remedy both or we are just feeding a problem. And we must remedy them both-their poverty and ours.

Have you noticed how many times in this post that I have apologized for admitting Jesus is the answer? It is odd...strange..weird... I don't know how to just let Him be. I have friends who are more involved in social justice and resolving poverty than I am, than any Christians I know. It is embarrassing to know that the world doesn't even think Jesus is in this equation. Not really. Not unless you are with HOPE International or Compassion or World Vision. The rest of the planet thinks we are delusional. I guess it doesn't much matter. I still know that Jesus is the best marriage counselor in the world, and I bet He can rescue the lost better than any search and rescue team, He can heal better than any hospital and He can feed the hungry, clothe the naked, shelter the homeless better than any NGO.

Why?

2011-10-18T07:42:00.000-04:00

A friend wrote me: Is the problem of poverty because we Americans have "too much money and we are selfish consumers who spend it on ourselves" OR is it something totally different? Is it that Americans are greedy? That businesses are greedy? or is it that we aren't helping people?

It would be wonderful if there was a succinct "why" to the question of poverty because then we would be able to answer it, relieve it, heal it, more easily. I am not sure it really is that simple.

Is it my fault as an American? I don't think so. I do know part of my personal equation, part of the reason that I am concerned and try to actively pursue resolutions toward inclusion to spreading the wealth (figuratively, not literally) is tha I struggle with grace. Why am I given things, blessed if you will, while others are not?

Truly, that is one of the reasons that I even write this blog-this struggle, this wrestling. While the grace of God's loving redemption is an amazing gift, it is even sometimes hard for me to accept that not everyone receives it. Why would I be chosen and this woman I love not be? While I wrap myself up in this gift, I try to share it with others, that they might find some warmth and comfort as well. That somehow UPS might deliver their own gift box someday.

Much the same is the grace of having enough to eat, having an education, having a job, having unemployment compensation when I don't have a job, having a home, being able to feed my pets food other than what I feed my husband. Why am I blessed in this way but so many aren't? Although I have struggled at times, as a child raised by only by her mother with very limited resources, as a teenaged parent, as an undereducated worker....I struggled toward something. I had hope. I knew things could get better.

It seems not only be unfair but also incorrect to say that impoverished people lack that drive, to make things better. If anything, I would blame lack of hope.

I don't know if I can make the world better or put a dent in poverty. This world has been broken for a long time. I don't know if I give hope to the children I sponsor, to those that I will, in all likelihood, not meet this side of heaven. It is easy to stop at what I can't do or pause in fear that I can't do enough. Instead, I will focus on what I can do.

I can write my children, telling them how proud I am of them, how much I wish for their futures, how deeply I know our Father loves them.

I can give a little money to hopefully alleviate some anonymous recipient's hunger pangs and worries. (I admit it-I have not given until it was a true sacrifice, really caused me discomfort.)

I can hope for them, give to them, but most of all, I believe anyway, that I can pray.

Who else can fix this place without causing more harm? Who is there better to hope in?

I will do my small part, and leave the big results to God.

This blog is part of a One Word at a Time bloggers carnival.

You can read more posts on the topic "Resolutions" here.

Should We?

2011-10-16T17:18:00.000-04:00

So the Occupy movement has even hit our small town/farming community of Lancaster. It makes me wonder, if we are a global community, is it that tragic being the 99%??? Shouldn't we be working to end the true poverty in the world? We, who live in the United States, have many advantages such as free education, food stamps, reduced lunches for students, medical assistance programs, food and clothing banks, free or sliding scale medical and dental clinics. Many, globally, do not have these luxuries.

I am not saying that corporate greed is good. I think the big companies that take work to 3rd world countries and pay the workers a mere pittance should be held accountable for the harm that they do to both economies. But as long as we, as consumers/materialists, are willing to buy, well, they are going to be willing to sell and as cheaply as possible. (And just so you know, the projections for a single shopping day this year, Black Friday, are that an expected 225 million consumers/materialists will spend about $380 each. You do the math, just for fun, because it blew my mind when I did it. What if everyone gave up one stinking present that someone will break or forget or tear before the year is out and commit it to helping end poverty? )

For a clearer perspective on the difference between American poverty and poverty experienced in other parts of the world, please, check out this article. And until we figure out how to make the world better, feel free to occupy. Just be grateful for all we really have as Americans!

Could We Really?

2011-10-14T21:37:00.000-04:00

I sponsor through Compassion. I do it for many reasons, but the biggest is that I hope that my small contribution (which really amounts to a monthly credit card payment) might make a difference in a little girl's life. And, I have found that Compassion has given back to me over the years, most recently in the form of tickets to a screening of the movie 58:Fast. Forward. The End of Poverty.

I have to admit, I was nervous about the film. Many years ago I foolishly prayed that I might glimpse the world through God's eyes and I have found my heart broken, again and again. As I learned more about God's love for me, I became more concerned with the suffering of others. We sponsored one little girl in Peru because that has always been a country that I felt drawn to. One girl, well, it reminded me of the story about the little boy throwing starfish back into the ocean ("I made a difference for that one!"), but there were so many more! And, while we aren't wealthy by American standards, we certainly are by the world's standards! Even more, I know we are rich in grace!

When I saw the video of Bono and Bill Hybels at a Global Leadership Summit, I was dismayed at the way he accused the church of being so disconnected from the needs of the world. (Frankly, I am all about calling out my brothers and sisters, but it is embarrassing when someone not in the family does.)

A friend from church had gone on an expedition of sorts to Africa and came home with amazing stories of an American teenager who was mothering over a dozen Ugandan girls. Her ministry, Amazima, which means truth in Lugandan, was teaching the people about the love of Jesus by being the love of Jesus. She reminds me of stories I read of Mother Theresa as a child as I began to follow her blog. Desiring to be a part and supportive of her ministry, we began to sponsor a little boy.

My journey continued when I read the book Half the Sky, a remarkable book that looks at the plight of women and girls around the world. While I admit to being annoyed by the patriarchal and hierarchical undertones in conservative Christianity, this is nothing to what is happening to sisters around the globe! It was after reading about the dangers to girls in India, from the poverty to the child slave to the sex trade, that led me to sponsoring our 3rd child, a girl, of course, this time again through Compassion.

At this time I also wanted to try something completely new to me, microfinance. I had known of Kiva for a long time, but I really felt a bit intimidated by the term "microfinance" and wondered if anything termed "micro" in the world of money could really do any good. I added my $25 with some other people, and we made a loan to a faceless man in Lebanon (his face was blurred for his protection due to the volatile situation in his country). He received his loan for his business, and then, believe it or not, he started to pay the loan back! Not only did he have hope in his future, but he had respect for the way he came by this hope because it wasn't a hand out. It wasn't charity linked to some Western group looking to make themselves feel better. While it is paid back to each lender in portions, when my full $25 is paid, I will then be able to lend to someone else's hope.

There is a friend I met on Facebook who is a missionary in Uganda (not with Amazima). I began to follow her blog, and she put faces to the tragedy of lack of access to clean water. I watched as she posted pictures and videos of a dreadful muddy stream where the village people would get their water, until blog friends raised the funds and her village got its own well. To think that 30,000-and I don't even know really how to make that number sound more real-children die every day due to HUNGER and PREVENTABLE DISEASES! It is truly beyond my ability to understand!

While God has been teaching me about the way he loves, and the way he expects us to love, I have been struggling with this piece of the Gospel of Matthew chapter 25:

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
    “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
    “Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’
    “They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’
    “He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’

See, the people that the King told to depart were not bad guys, per se. They were just indifferent to need in simple, everyday people. If they had known Jesus was making an appearance in the soup kitchen line, they would have fought to serve him. But he is a bit sneaky. He doesn't always announce himself with the fanfare one would expect of a king (like being born in the muck of a barn).

I don't want to be apathetic, but I also don't always know what to do. Sponsoring even three children is still nothing! So when I received an email from Compassion that they were offering tickets to this screening, I went figuring that perhaps the God of hide and seek grace games was providing an opportunity.

As I said, I was nervous. I brought tissues because I have learned that tears flow too easily when my heart is touched. I promised my husband that I would not sign up to go overseas or sponsor another child that night. While I knew the International Justice Mission and Compassion were partners of this movie, I was pleased to see a local ministry, HOPE International as well as ones I hadn't heard of yet.

My initial impression of the film was...heartbreaking. When a 12 year old boy feels there is no sense of having dreams because he has become an indentured slave to a quarry for his parents' debt (for a child's dowry)...when a woman picks through the garbage for vegetables that have been thrown out, only to wash them to try and sell what she could (and take the worst home to feed her 3 children)...when a pregnant woman walks 4 miles into town to sell firewood she carried on her back so that she can buy food and water to carry the 4 miles home (to feed her 5 children)....could it be anything other than heartbreaking?

My friend's daughter, who dreams of being a missionary, went with us to the film. Her impression, however, caused me to rethink mine. She saw hope. And she is right.

Extreme poverty has declined. Children dying of malaria has declined. Thanks to child sponsorship programs, children are being given the opportunity to attend school with their fees paid by a sponsor. They have a chance to avoid being trapped in the same cycle of poverty. Thanks to microfinance, people are able to begin to make a living for themselves and their families. They have hope. Organizations fight the sex trade, some fight to save environments in dire situations like that of Ethiopia, and others to provide access to clean water.

The movie is to awaken us to the True Fast we read of in the book of Isaiah chapter 58:

“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
and break every yoke?
Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe them,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness will go before you,
and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.
Then you will call, and the LORD will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I."

I don't know that I, myself, can make a dent in extreme poverty. I do know that if my church family, my Facebook friends, my coworkers, my birth family, and all my friends in between, would pitch in, we could, really, fast forward to the end of poverty. So, please, check out the Live58.org page or their facebook page. Think it over. Pray about it. Ask for ideas, or throw out ideas. Try something and try something else.

The only wrong thing to do...is nothing.

So, what are you going to do?

Fitting In?

2011-10-09T21:57:00.000-04:00

I remember being different for a very long time. As a little girl, my mother said I was different because I was artistic, that I felt things more intently than others. My father said that our family is just never able to settle, that we always feel restless.

Is that what this is?

I am a do-er. If I am learning about something, I want to learn how to apply it. If there is no practical application for something, there doesn't seem to be any reason to waste my time on it.

As I learn, I am discontent. I want to do more. I want to move. I want to do now.

I don't fit in.

Instead, I twist and reframe and refocus to find a nicer way of dressing up this passionate discontent. But there isn't any. Just awkwardness. I should learn to cook. Or refinish furniture.

I don't fit in. Gangliness of a spiritual adolescence perhaps. Restlessness of a nomad. Emotionality of an artist.

Peace is found in knowing that nothing surprises You. Peace is knowing that You are the God of my past, present, and future. Peace is knowing that You use me, cracks & imperfections, when it is time. Peace is know that this is not my forever home. Peace is You.

I don't fit in many places, but I fit in with You.

Blog Carnival-Seasons

2011-10-04T07:32:00.001-04:00

It was all so much simpler in my spring. I suppose it is for everyone.
That is why babies and puppies and newness are squealed over.

I have been struggling. Spring has long gone. The leaves are falling.
I loved what I had, what once defined me.
Without it now, I feel like a crab without a shell-
             vulnerable...
                           homeless...
                                          dry in spirit.

I know, that all is not lost.
I know, things change.
I know, that God,
             who brought me from there to there once,
             will bring me from here to there again.
I know, the story is not over.
I know, the season will change, again.

I wish my heart knew all this as well.

Check out more blog entries on Seasons at the Carnival.

Armchair QB

2011-10-03T06:37:00.000-04:00

“Woman,” Jesus replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father

neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You Samaritans worship what you do not know;

we worship what we do know, for salvation is from the Jews.

Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers

will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth,

for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks.

God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.”

The woman said, “I know that Messiah” (called Christ) “is coming.

When he comes, he will explain everything to us.”

Then Jesus declared, “I, the one speaking to you—I am he.”

John 4:21-26 NIV

(Ok, so maybe this wasn't exactly what the message was about, but it is what I tuned into.)

It is interesting that the text speaks of "true worshipers." If there are true, there must be false. (This is a little scary, especially because it echoes that passage when people are trying to come into heaven and Jesus says, "I do not know you." My fear here is that they knew him, they expected to be with him. May I never take his grace for granted!) While I do not believe my worship is false, it is sometimes a bit on the pathetic side, definitely not worthy of my God. I am often distract by work, by the emptiness of the chairs I wish were filled with people I care about, by my own self consciousness, or even just by my own critical spirit telling me that I may not be worshipping "right."

Truth is easy, isn't it? Even the Samaritan woman tells us that the Messiah would explain everything. For those of us who have become convinced that Jesus is the Messiah, we have his words, the history and traditions of the Judeo-Christian people, and the Holy Spirit to reveal the truth. But, worshipping in truth. Is it really that easy? Have you ever been at worship and found yourself angry or sad or guilty but you just keep singing mediocre songs with a dead heart and a walled off mind? Why can't we be who we are outside of the church walls? Why is it easier to be honest with God when no one is around? Or is it just me?

Then there are other questions: What does worshipping in spirit mean? How does my spirit worship? Is it that strange prayer language the more expressive Christians speak of? What is worship? Is it only singing? Is worship only a good feeling of amazement?

I think worship is as simple and difficult as remembering that God is so much greater than me, knowing he is worthy of all that I have to give-every talent & treasure & breath, a coming to the throne in awe that God loves me. When I do that with all of my heart and mind and soul that I can muster (because I am not going to pretend that I can give myself wholly), that is what God desires-all of me, or at least my best offering of myself.

And this worship-in Truth & in Spirit-changes me. It changes my mind, my heart, my purpose. I leave, more whole, more light. When I leave corporate (church) worship, my worship does not stop, but it continues...into how I treat people: the drivers in the parking lot, my family, my waitress, the refs in the football game, into how I show my reverence for God as an employee on Monday, and so on.

Worship is an ordering of my life around that thing that is worthy of my devotion, not a 3 minute song. I hope I get better at remembering this and living it.

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Off to Church I Go....

2011-10-02T08:41:00.000-04:00

Somehow, this is the family I have always pictured when it comes to being a church-going family. And, those of you who know me know that I am not in that picture at all! LOL In fact, I would probably burn the picture, give mom a mustache or horns, and then make spit balls out of it to shoot at the preacher. Ok, so I am not that bad anymore, but since it has only been 3 weeks without a smoke, I am in a bad mood. (Kirk, please make sure this picture NEVER gets on a bulletin anywhere near me!)

I am also in a bad mood about church lately. I don't feel connected. I sort of drag my feet about going, but Gus's homefries are good enough to get me out of bed. Church just doesn't seem to be making a lot of sense to me lately. Still I go. And this is why:

The Bible tells me to. Oh. My. Goodness. I just heard something my fundamentalist grandfather would say come out of my mouth (or at least off my fingers as I typed!). Hebrews 10:23-25 says, Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.

I need to hold on, not because I need to be faithful, but because God is faithful and things will work out the way they need to.

Meeting up with other Christians for one day a week is actually a very small portion of time for me. I am sure I waste more time every week on Facebook.

Being with other Christians can encourage me to be stronger, to learn more, or just to not be like "that" one. Whatever the encouragement is, it can give me a push of momentum for my spiritual life.

Typically I would say Christians who love Jesus also love other people and want to find ways to bless them. There are lots of great ideas from child sponsorship to food banks to medical missions. Getting into a flow of other people doing things to bring the Kingdom to earth is exciting.

With the "Day" approaching, it seems like it is even more important to be around like minded individuals. Of course, what is that day? Is it the destruction of the Temple? Is it the 2nd coming? The tribulation? You know, commentators on the Bible don't seem so sure what the answer is, but a particular day is approaching, the end of something, and that is usually difficult. Isn't it good to be around friends and family when bad things are happening? Even if it is a good thing, like Jesus returning, the signs he told us to look for mean there will be trouble. And, frankly, there is plenty of trouble out there. I need to be somewhere to feed my spirit enough to keep moving while running life's obstacle course.

There is another verse that speaks to why I go to Church. Consequently, faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word about Christ, Romans 10:17.

My faith grows when I hear the message that God has been on a mission to reconnect to us and has been maneuvering through the ages for just the right time. I hear this story, this truth, at church during worship, during the sermon, during prayer, during snippets of conversations. This is the truth that echoes through the halls as much as in our lives. Hearing it reminds me, encouraging me to hold on, persevere, because God is faithful and things will work out the way they need to.

Yeah, perhaps I don't go to church for all the right reasons. I know worshipping God together is supposed to be high on my list, but sometimes the words are dumb or the beat is off & highly distracting. Besides, I think worshipping God should be an all the time sort of activity. Thirty minutes one morning a week is not enough for my amazing God, but it is a start and it is still good to set everything aside to focus on God.

So, this morning, I will head to Gus's for quiche and homefries before meeting the rest of the church. I will hope for songs of meaning and a sermon that spurs my heart, but I will at least have had a good breakfast and taken a bit of time to tell God that

But while I do my time at church, I also believe what James says: What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. But someone will say, “You have faith; I have deeds.” Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds. You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder. James 2:14-19

Lovers of Christ are not meant to be contained in 4 walls. We must go out to the world and show God's love or we do not really love Christ. I don't think church isn't meant to be an end, but a rest stop on the highway. Fuel up, clean up, rest up, then get up.

But, that's just me. Why do you go to church?

Get up and eat

2011-09-04T15:40:00.000-04:00

Elijah was afraid and ran for his life. When he came to Beersheba in Judah, he left his servant there, while he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness. He came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. “I have had enough, LORD,” he said. “Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.” Then he lay down under the bush and fell asleep. All at once an angel touched him and said, “Get up and eat.” 1 Kings 19:3-5 NIV

I always like Elijah, ever since I was told flannelgraph stories in Sunday School and later while I read my comic strip Bible. He is one bad dude. I mean, c'mon, he gets to go to heaven by a fiery chariot! Pretty cool.

I was thinking of Elijah today. I can't say I have done anything exciting like he did-show up a false god's prophets or become enemy #1 in a nation-but I can relate to his spiritual exhaustion, his fear of the future. I have been feeling that deep fatigue and missing the past-people, experiences, my dog. Some people regret their past; I am grieving its loss.

Today, as I reluctantly crossed the church parking lot, not feeling very spiritual, just empty, I prayed that I was doing all I could putting one foot in front of the other. If God needed more from me, it couldn't happen. I had nothing to offer. And I thought of Elijah, falling beneath that tree, wishing he could die and be done with the struggle. God wasn't ready for that, though, and instead woke him to feed him. "You will have to care for me, too, Father," I whispered through a twinge of guilt at the simple struggle that is causing me to falter.

Even when I walk through the darkest valley [death], I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Psalm 23:4 NLT

Worship is numb, until the tears flow. I swallow the bitter understanding that while I believe You can do anything, You do not. You are quiet when I need You to say that word, to heal my heart.

...but only say the word, and my servant shall be healed Matt 8:8 ASV

As the gathering comes to a close, we celebrate communion together. While I look at the juice and the bread that I hold in my hands, I remember Elijah again. You have fed me, restored me, with Your own body, Your own blood. And, You said the words:“It is finished.” Just as You surrended Your spirit in that moment, I, too, surrender mine. I am tired, but I will rest in You-Your comfort found in Your word, Your sustenance of mercy, Your help through friends who love me as I cry. I want sometimes to be angry with You, but I can't seem to muster the energy. My gratitude cancels too much of it out.

I Need Rest

2011-09-03T20:28:00.000-04:00

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls..." Matthew 11:28-29 NIV

Jesus spoke these words, and many have taken them to heart over the centuries. I have been hearing them lately, but no rest arrives. I wait in the knowing that God is good and that all awful things may be turned into positive blessings, as has been the instance many time in my life, but I am tired. Even my waiting is filled with anxiety. My heart is sad. My spirit shifts uneasy. Sleep is fitful. Wakeful hours are only somewhat distracting. Always this thorn of discomfort. I read these words and want to shout, "Pick me! I want rest!" But I haven't any idea how to rest these knots in my gut. Tears flow when the day has worn on me too long, too hard. It feels like there is no rest for me. One foot in front of the other, I trudge along. I berate myself, "Let go. It will pass if you let it. You are being stupid," but this voice causes the tension only to increase. I am tired, Jesus. I am sad and alone, but while I don't know what to do with myself, I am intolerant and easily annoyable. Come, help me rest.

God's Providence

2011-08-20T09:31:00.000-04:00

There is no circumstance, no trouble, no testing, that can ever touch me until, first of all, it has gone past God and past Christ, right through to me. If it has come that far, it has come with a great purpose, which I may not understand at the moment. But I refuse to become panicky, as I lift up my eyes to Him and accept it as coming from the throne of God for some great purpose of blessing to my own heart. ~Alan Redpath

I am not even sure if last Sunday was actually on God's providence. I think so. So much has happened this week that Armchair QB was irrelevant. We had to let my sweet Chelsea go. Sunday was a bad day for her so Monday we went to the vet and she feel asleep resting in my arms. I have missed her. But, truth be told, I have been missing her for weeks, months, as she lapsed into a shadow of the loving strong girl she was. She is now at peace, but her momma is left with a heartbreaking stillness in her spirit.

I know, she is just a dog, right? Lean in, just a little closer...so I can punch you in the nose. My husband and I made a decision years ago not to have any more children, and though I struggled with that decision initially, my dogs and birds became like our children. In fact, I blame maternal hormones that our zoo grew as it did. But the point is, I surrendered a piece, and a peace, of my heart when I surrendered my girl.

I would love to be able to say, "It's ok: God has a plan; God has really blessings waiting," as some have in an empty attempt to comfort me. I can't. I can't even choke down their words. They sit as a knot in my throat until I gag them up.

Yet, I am not really mad at God. I think this whole existence of brokenness SUCKS! I am not the only one feeling the pain of loss, the sharp pains of this broken world. In fact, I am lucky. My girl is not suffering any more. How many are still suffering? Or, harder still, watching ones they love suffer?

Is it supposed to be comforting that God has a plan? The quote (heard it on the radio and have been gnawing on it a few days) says all hard things only reach me after God's approval. Is that supposed to be comforting-that God thinks we can handle such suffering? Or should we be angry that God allows it?

I know when I look back on my own path, it is easy to see how God worked on my winding journey, how things built upon the last. Are we able to even see that in the present? Did Moses' mother think, "God is on our side (the side of the slaves that were victims of genocide). Things are gonna work out. I will just place my dear son in this basket and hope it is God's will that the crocs don't eat him before some Egyptian kills him?" Did Jonah think, "Awesome, God is giving me a unique submarine to transport me to the people I hate?" Or, is it only many, many years later that the story was told with an "OMG, God is amazing!"

I think Moses' mother might have hoped for rescue, but she would rather surrender her baby, grieving as she must have been, rather than have some cruel army rip him from her breast. Jonah probably begged for God to hear him, remembering all he could have done or been as he assumed he would die in the stinking gullet of a fish.

While I do know God has a plan, while I trust Him with my heart, it can be difficult to live joyfully in this place of dying and suffering. He knows the suffering better than any of us and suffers with us. Gratefully, He is still there, slipping His hand wordlessly into mine, and we walk together. As we walk, I slip my hand into another's, who intimately knows the pain as well, and we walk. It can be the loneliest walk without the hand of another. Fortunately, we don't have to be alone as we wait for God to work out His goodness.

Songs of Truth

2011-08-11T21:56:00.000-04:00

For I am persuaded,

that neither death, nor life, nor angels,

nor principalities, nor powers,

nor things present, nor things to come,

nor height, nor depth,

nor any other creature,

shall be able to separate us from the love of God.

Romans 8:38-39 KJV

We have a friend who sings this verse in one breath around the campfire. It makes me giggle every time, probably because it makes all the kids giggle at a silly time of the night and probably because it is such an odd talent to have. But it is also a humbling verse to think about.

Do I really believe what this verse says? What are the things I have believed can cause God to turn on me? If this is true, where is God when I feel so alone?

Sometimes my brain can't wrap itself around the message even while my heart longs to swim in the grace that flows in this verse.

Nothing, like literally nothing, that I can know of or only can imagine or haven't even heard of, can take me away from Him. Not the pain in my heart of watching others suffer, the decay of my body, the struggle with pride and fear, the comfort of this life, the struggles of this life, wars and instability, my negative self talk, abuse that still haunts....nothing!

Paul writes that he is "persuaded" or convinced of this fact. Am I?

I haven't been. Somewhere there is still this thought that although God is good, if I am not good, well, He might not want me. I would be a let down. I smirk as I write those words because nothing has been hidden between Him and I. It isn't like a blind date or that show "Who the Bleep Did I Marry?" He knew me long before I knew Him. He loved me long before I could love. He wanted me before I wanted Him, with all my bruises and scars, He wanted me.

So, I haven't been convinced, but I am willing to be. I want to be! I want to be so sure of His love that there is no hesitation. That instead of pulling back from Him when I stumble, I run to Him-the only refuge I have ever known.

This may be my meditation for a while. I am still gnawing on the verse, absorbing it slowly. It is a mouthful, even if you can sing it in one breath.

Just a Conversation in the Storm

2011-08-10T05:09:00.001-04:00

"I don't think you are enough," I tell God as I light up a cigarrette and take a drag. "No matter what some cheesy church song tells You. I just don't get what you are enough for."

I pause. Am I going too far? Does it matter? This is what I honestly think so I add, "And you want me to be honest, right?"

"My dog is dying. My work is a mess. Everything seems so hard. Nothing seems right. Eternity isn't here, so what's the point?"

He sits quietly, without offering an explanation. He just sits and waits.

"Really, what do you want me to say? I am glad? Grateful? What Way are you? Why do loved ones still suffer? Why do babies still die? Why is life so hard? Why are you so silent?"

And yet He just sits and waits.

I go through my day, trying to keep busy. A meeting with friends, He sat in the back, where amends and God's love are the topics. I remember that fear is my biggest transgression against myself, how I hold myself back, how I hold my heart down. A chat, while He listened in, with a wiser woman who is wondering some of my own questions, and we gingerly joke as the thunderstorm comes that I may be struck by lightning. Lunch with another friend, while He took the booth behind us, where we discuss difficulty in relationships and that change is hard to swallow. A book on grief found without being sought, while He stood by the shelf, brings some peace, and tears.

"You are still a pain," I tell Him while I listen to the cicadas. "It still isn't fair, but I see you aren't planning to leave."

Though quiet, He offers a crooked smile.

Blog Carnival-Fences

2011-08-09T07:09:00.001-04:00

You can read about more fences at the blog carnival here

Fences are these extraordinary things. They can be wooden, metal wire, metal bars, masonry, brick, or even hedges, but they are all boundaries. Fences keep what we want in and what we don't want out. Sometimes we post signs on them letting everyone know why: No Trespassing; Beware of Dog; Explosives. Sometimes it is just a simple Keep Out.

Well, that isn't really so simple, is it? If we could keep them out, we wouldn't need to tell them. We wouldn't need to set such boundaries if we had any control. Fences give us the illusion that we have some control over our lives, our property, our boundary. Some of us even try to do this with our hearts.

I caught myself saying to a friend today,

"I can't believe I was stupid enough to let another dog into my soul."

(For those of you who are cat people, you may not understand this because cats don't gently weasle their way into your heart. They are little demons that take possession of your soul. That's why no one ever asks if cats go to heaven, only dogs. Just kidding.)

I thought I had fenced off my heart after Daisy. Her loss turned me inside out. Chelsea was never supposed to be my dog in the first place. It wasn't supposed to hurt this bad. She is, after all, a dog, right? And yet...

My dear Chelsea is sick and will not make it out of this. I have found a small circle of people who have battled this disease and have somehow found stability. But we will all lose our canine friends. There is no fence around the heart high enough, dense enough, or strong enough to keep these gentle spirits out, or keep our frail hearts from breaking.

I am not sure God would want it any other way.

For my Chelsea

Armchair QB-His Sovereignty; Our Smallness

2011-08-07T06:00:00.057-04:00

Ugh, ever hate it when you waste an hour of your life? I spent an hour listening to Stephen Hawkings ramble on "Curiosity-Did God Create the Universe," and I found absolutely no challenge to God. Is it wrong to say I am disappointed? I thought perhaps he might have something interesting to say, but his conclusion went something like this: since there was no time or space or anything prior to the big bang, there couldn't God, either. Of course, there are those of us saying, duh! "In the beginning God created...." are the opening words of Genesis. We know there was a beginning (some may point to the big bang since that is when "time" began), and God was already there. Anyway, just needed to vent.

Sunday Kirk spoke on Isaiah 40:10-31. (I admit, while we read the passage, I was hearing a Kung Fu narrator saying "its people are like grasshoppers.")

Somehow, it is interesting that this passage is backed up with the Stephen Hawkings special. Science is a wonderful thing. I am a strange bird and have taken up reading about quantum physics of late. I just do not see the two, science and belief in God, being mutually exclusive. The more I learn, the more amazed I am. We (humanity) cannot take credit for creating things that we are merely fortunate enough to discover. I see it from the angle that God is pleased to give us glimpses of Himself, of His creativity.

As the passage tells (v18-20), we can develop all sorts of ideas, all manner of explanations (or idols), to make ourselves feel more secure, more in control of our destinies, but that doesn't mean that we are. It remains my strong belief, that there is indeed a God, that I am NOT that god, and that this God is Creator, eternal, great, present, gentle, mighty, wise, personal.

Broken Temple=Broken <3

When I say personal, I mean connected personally. In Isaiah's time, God lived among His chosen people in the temple. Today, God lives within the heart of each believer. When the temple was destroyed by invading armies, the people cried out in anguish wondering where God was (verse 27), much like we do when we are broken hearted. The searing pain makes it hard to hear Him, to know if He is near. It is difficult being small and broken at times when He feels far, or not there at all. Where is He when I am lost in grief? Where is He when the world looks like a screwed up mess of sin?

I have a friend who had a small flock of sheep. They are odd creatures-obstinate but dependent-much like us. His sheep relied on him for food, for shelter, for help with difficult births and when they were ill. He tended a twin that had been cast off by her mother, keeping her in HIS shelter and nursing her gently with a bottle until she was strong enough to join the flock. His sheep would wait for the roar of his Harley to come down the road. They recognized his voice and would run to the fence. This reminds me of what Isaiah said about God in the beginning of this passage: He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.

God is big enough that we can be small. He is caring enough that we can be needy. He is strong enough that we can be weak.

I wish that made it easier to be small and broken, but it doesn't. Though I am dependent, I am still an obstinate sheep. Thankfully, my Shepherd know this and cares for me anyway.

Missionary Mind

2011-08-02T08:31:00.007-04:00

Photo used with permission of Christie Cotney Magera

When I was a little girl, I loved when missionaries would come to talk at church or around my grandparents dinner table Sunday for lunch. I dreamnt of serving overseas in an adventure for God. As a teenager, I wanted to become a missionary in South America. The thought of bringing God's love to people who may not know it was exhilarating. But, life intervenes-bad choices and grown up stuff led me away from those dreams forever. Well, at least until I started loving Jesus.

For all the things that can be said, Facebook opens up the world. I have 2 "friends" who are overseas living and serving God in Uganda, a country I barely heard of a few years ago but one that has captured my heart since. When I look at the pictures of the amazing work they are doing, I cannot help but be inspired and awed by God. I pray for them often since money is not in excess, but I know God can provide more than I ever could.

Christie recently posted an update which so beautifully and simply put into words many of my own thoughts:

Her: So you're a missionary?
Me: Do you believe in Christ? And I'm not talking about the part where you read from a piece of paper in Sunday School when you were 10. I mean do you REALLY believe in Him and identify with what He did for you?
Her: I do.
Me: Then YOU are a missionary, too. You don't have to go 9000 miles away. YOU are a missionary to anyone you come in contact with!
Her: WOW.

I admire Christie and Katie and other women who have followed God's call to love strangers that become family. I would never discourage anyone from following a call or even to experience God's power in a different culture on a short term trip. But that call is not mute for us who remain home.

The world is hurting, everywhere. People are desperately seeking wholeness and renewal that only the love of Christ can touch. Do we hear His prodding to talk to the women behind the counter? To pray with the man beside you? To love the unlovely? To forgive the scandalous? To embrace the abrasive?

While you may not need to raise support money, you may be treated more harshly. While you may know the language, you may find the words stuck in your throat. It isn't always easy, tho Jesus already told us that: “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you. Remember what I told you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master. If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also." (John 15:18-20)

I don't think we should set out to be hated, but if my life is bland, if my spirit is lukewarm, it is useless, dead. I would rather stir things up, get people thinking, offer them hope they do not understand but can almost taste. (And, really, I am not so sure Jesus meant the "outside" world as much as the "internal" world of the religious. Again, I do like to stir things up and get people thinking. We can be as dead in the church as in the alley beside the building.) If we believe that we have met the Giver of Life, if we have been raised from the dead with Him, how can we keep this joy to ourselves? How could we not seek the lost, the wounded, the grieving?

I am a missionary. I live in Pennsylvania. I do nothing grand, but I try to bring Him glory in all that I do. I have some influence. I have a little courage. Even better, tho, I have His Spirit within me.

So, thank you, Christie, for sharing your journey with me, for sharing your faith in our Father and for reminding us that we are all missionaries.

Armchair QB-Judge

2011-08-01T06:34:00.002-04:00

Our text will begin in Psalm 50, but who knows where we will end up!

Verse 22 says: “Consider this, you who forget God, or I will tear you to pieces, with no one to rescue you: Those who sacrifice thank offerings honor me, and to the blamelessI will show my salvation.”

He sounds mean, doesn't He? I mean, is this God really love if He will tear us to pieces because we forgot him? But we cannot really argue with the God as He is described in verse 1, "The Mighty One, God, the LORD, speaks and summons the earth from the rising of the sun to where it sets," can we? This is one powerful dude, right? He controls the cosmos. I cannot even understand or know what I do not know about the expanse of the cosmos.

How does all this fit together?

I had been taught, somewhere along the way, that if people did not love God, then heaven would be hell whereas hell, a separation from God, would be their idea of heaven. Is that right?

My facebook account was blowing up the day Casey Anthony was found not guilty.  Recently I received a request that we (FB community) "wear purple for Cailee's birthday." Was justice served when her mother was found not guilty? ( My aspiring lawyer friend said yes because there was not enough evidence presented although she admits she believes Casy is guilty. She just finds the prosecuter guiltier.)

And then, in evangelical Christianity, there has been a recent controversy spawned by Rob Bell's book Love Wins which resulted in twitter barbs from reformed pastor John Piper and "more orthodox" pastors writing books to tell their side of the story. All this of course while the world watched Christians acting like idiots (sorry, was that judging?).   Setting aside all the differences that have emerged since Bell stirred up the storm, I wonder, do we believe that God is too loving for hell or do we believe in justice?

A few years back, a friend asked the group of us sitting in the basement bible study if we were certain we were going to heaven. I said, it's up to Jesus. He was...horrified. I suppose the "right" answer is that I have full confidence in my salvation due to the work of Jesus on the cross, however, I believed, and still do, that the most I can do is accept that whatever He determines to be my fate is correct. I have done nothing to deserve better, and I can think of many people who are better than me. Will my heart be broken if I do not spend eternity with Him?  Absolutely yes, not because I do not want hell but because I want Him. But I do not deserve it and cannot demand it or assume it. Having spent time here, however distant we are, walking with Him thru parking lots in gratitude for being able to walk or on the deck praying wrapped in wind that reminds me of the movement of the Spirit or hearing His laughter in stars or just knowing that all I am begins with Him, as silly as these things may sound, are more than I deserve.

I see hell everyday in the eyes and stories of people who are wandering in darkness. Some may find the Light, but we rarely see them at that point. We are something of a spiritual first aid station. It is painful to recognize the hell, that you have been rescued from, in the eyes of another. It is even more difficult to live so close to hell, to desperation, to know Him and be unable to get through to them. I am reminded that, again, it all begins with Him. I cannot unharden a heart, even my own. I could not find God; He found me. He did give me a choice that day that He spoke to me, though. I could choose to follow Him, or choose my own way, but eventually I would need to choose. But it began with Him. It always does.

If I choose justice, well, I am screwed, to put it frankly, so rather than choose it, I would accept it. I choose instead to hide in the shadow of His grace for all time, with as many people as I can fit into that shadow. Good for us that Father is a big God.

Told you I had no idea where we would end up :)

Should

2011-07-30T11:17:00.000-04:00

When it rains, it pours, right?

Seems that way to me lately. For those who do not know, I have a wonderful little girl named Chelsea. She is a wheaten terrier who was supposed to be my husband's dog but instead claimed me. Unfortunately, she has gotten sick with some genetic disease of her breed: inflammatory bowel disease and lymphangectasia (a protein losing disease affecting her bowel). She is terminal, but in a way to lessen the blow, I remind myself that we are all terminal. We just know now that she only has 2 years or so and what the cause of death will be provided she doesn't get hit by a car or burn to death in a house fire. Yeah, I know, unpleasant thoughts, but this is where my head is.

Where my heart has been is a swamp of guilt. There are the usual guilts-walks not taken, playtime missed, puppy years resented, but there are also the current guilts-money spent. A friend encouraged me not to allow it to weigh me down, but we have spent so much money to treat this disease before the diagnosis that I am sad.

I love my girl dearly and will miss her terribly when she is gone, but she is still just my dog. Shouldn't I have used that money more wisely? I could sponsor more orphans. 30,000 kids die every day from lack of food and medical care. I cared for a dog in a costly system that will die despite my very best efforts. I have missionary friends caring for the poor and sick and struggling in Africa that could have used that money. I have friends locally who are struggling. I am in the swamp of guilt.

But, there is always a but as I process issues of my heart, I am not sure if I am supposed to be in that swamp.

It is so easy to should ourselves after the fact. I shouldn't have bought that. I should have taken that job. I should have listened to my heart. Where does shoulding ourselves come from?

It definitely isn't from love. That voice that tells me I am not enough: not competent, not loving, not smart, not wise, not good enough is not loving, is not God. His is the voice I strain to hear but the one so often drowned out in the crowd of shoulds.

We should each other to make conformity the rule, to give ourselves security in chaos, to make ourselves feel better. No one else is shoulding me, though. My husband is shoulding himself. My vet is shoulding himself. Why is is so difficult to love our imperfect selves in the midst of imperfection (when perhaps we are most perfect because we are simply ourselves)?

Dad doesn't should me. He wraps His arms around me as the breeze caressing the trees and loves me. He knows my heart is broken and cries with me. He doesn't tell me it isn't that bad, that I am overreacting, that this is the way it is. He hears my gasps of sorrow and whispers simply that He loves me. He is my umbrella protecting me from the shoulds, from those lies, from the conformity that leads only to sin.

I have not ever heard Him should me. Isn't that weird? Of all the people in my life who could, God has never should me. He seems to just love me...and understands my heart wants to be His, even if I struggle to act in that way, perform in that way that I "should." I laugh because, again, there is no should with Him, only me, a knucklehead, who is a mess but who loves her Father dearly and a Father who loves her even more.

I do what I can, and it is often misguided or incomplete, but I do. And I learn as I process my messes, so that sometimes I can do better when I come to a similar situation. No matter how I do, I always have my Dad, tho, my umbrella from should storms. Thank you, God!

Armchair QB-God is Love

2011-07-25T10:27:00.001-04:00

Yesterday we continued our study of God at Hope with "God is Love." The main text is here. I admit, once again, the message given is not the message heard. While I took "his" notes, I was also making my own notes. This post is my notes.

I always think of the phrase "God is love" whenever I hear we are going to the letters from John. But what is love? Obviously God's heart is not an flimsy as our own. Can His love be as fickle as mine? Of course not! My favorite quote about His love is this: But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:8. He could have let us die in our sin. He could have abandoned us to our own evil. He could have backed down as He listened to Jesus plead with Him to find another way, as He watched Jesus suffer, as He heard the cries of His Son dying. Can I even fathom loving like this? Not really. I get cantankerous when my husband doesn't answer me soon enough or the central air goes out or I feel dumped on by work. I can't get through those mild irritations and remain loving. God has loved me through a whole lot more than that!

So what does it mean to love God?

This is how we know that we love the children of God: by loving God and carrying out his commands. In fact, this is love for God: to keep his commands. 1 John 5:2-3a NIV

That seems straightforward enough, right? But...which commands? The 10 commandments? I thought we were saved by grace, not by works-wouldn't this dissolve into a works based, conditional love then?

Jesus told us himself: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” Matt 22:37-40 NIV

I also think James gave us a concrete way to carry this command out: Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress James 1:27 NIV. If I am saying I love God, I need to measure my actions: Do I care for the orphaned, the widows, the disenfranchised, the least of these? Or do I go about my merry way, giving less than 10% to my local church, thinking about giving more to a program to care for orphans but forgetting my checkbook, avoiding eye contact with a homeless woman on a chance encounter?

Just because I am called to do does not make it a "works based religion." My heart has been changed, softened, more aware, but not through any actions of my own. Through Ezekiel, God says, " I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws...you will be my people, and I will be your God. I will save you from all your uncleanness (Ezekiel 36:26)

All love, mine, your or His, begins with Him. Any love my heart can muster is a gift from Him to be shared.

Armchair QB

2011-07-18T20:11:00.001-04:00

A dear friend returned from a mission trip to Belize Saturday and in her text to me she said, "This trip has changed my life." What is it about mission trips? Seems like everyone returning says that same thing. I don't know what it is, since I have yet to be on a mission trip, tho I would argue that everyday we are on a mission trip no matter where we are. I have had my own moments when my life was altered, however. My perspective was changed when I read Half the Sky. My purpose was changed when I decided to let Jesus take the lead in my life. One day I will go on one of those mission trips to see what it means.

I would imagine it is something like what Isaiah experienced, tho. This Sunday's text is Isaiah 6:1-8. I have studied different places in the Bible where humanity has come face to face with the Divine. This is one of my favorite accounts. Kirk's focus was how holy-set apart or extraordinarily different-God is. Mine is always about how that holiness changes us.

There are some people that dismiss the notion that there might be something more. Perhaps there is some comfort in that for them since there is no need to consider right or wrong beyond what is right or wrong for the individual. Some people will say there is something; they just don't know exactly what it is-aliens, karma, magic. Many consider the Bible a story book, if they consider it at all, or just another construct humanity used to make sense of our existence.

I was part of that group. I really disliked Christians-their exclusivity, their know it all attitude, their hypocrisy. Their special book was just a bunch of ancient stories made up by nomads to explain their world, but it wasn't relevant, for me. I didn't need fairy tales to feel better or do better.

But, as a smile crosses over my face, I remember that was before He showed up. I picture what an amazing sight Isaiah saw and know that nothing that dramatic has ever happened. Wouldn't have known what to do if I had!

Things are different since He showed up. I would like to say I am lots of things that I am not, but I know myself too well. What I can say is that my direction in life is different. My values are different. I see my self and my place in this world differently. I have a new vision for what my life can be, what my impact on this world might be. If I don't do anything meaningful here, at least I am moving toward Him now, toward His kingdom, not creating my own.

I think that is the major difference-Him. His priorities are what I test mine by. His challenge is what I claim as mine. I am not trying to create my own way, but learning how to live His.

I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said, "God doesn't believe in atheists." It hurt my heart, and I think it might hurt His. He believes in all of us; we just haven't all met Him yet.

A Closer Look

2011-07-16T09:13:00.000-04:00

Before anyone (if anyone reads this) gets offended by what I may say on this post, know that I am writing only about MY heart's condition. You may have a completely different outlook, and that is great, but this is about me.

Service can be a good thing. One of the strongest desires of my heart is to serve God. Catechism that I learned in school taught me this:

Q. Why did God make you?

A. God made me to know Him, to love Him, and to serve Him in this world, and to be happy with Him for ever in heaven.

I think my desire to serve Him, typically, is a natural outpouring of my love for the God I know. Typically. But then there is part of me lately that I have been looking at in my prayer & meditation time. I also want to serve Him because I don't know how else to respond to His loving care. Doesn't sound too bad on the surface, right? Well, let's take it a step further-would I be content if I had absolutely nothing to ever offer Him but my imperfect self-love, yes, but what about the parts of me that struggle and are mean or rebellious sometimes? Could that be enough for me? Note, not for Him, because I think He knows me better than myself and loves me anyway, even before I knew Him or knew love, but for me.

This blog was really named after the fact that I know I suck and I am astounded that the Creator of the universe, of more than I will even even learn about, has pursued me and continues to pursue me as though I were something of great value. It is His grace that drew me to this Love, that continues to draw me. It is His grace that humbles me, sustains me, contains me, and confounds me. It is His grace that makes me want to give back to Him, to somehow show that I can give Him something....

It is my pride that drives me toward service.

My pride is an octopus of a sin. When I do well, it tightens its grip, stroking my ego. When I do poorly, it chokes me. I love being talented, worthy, admired.

But the reality then is that I am not enjoying His grace; I am enjoying the fact that I can pay for the privilege.

In the past couple months, I have given up many commitments that fed that ego. I feel purposeless, disconnected and without direction now. I am not admired by a crowd. I am not feeding any sheep. I am just me, and it has been uncomfortable. Why, tho, is my purpose only to be found when I am on the top? Which takes me back to, what is my purpose?

In these months, I have taken the time to reflect on my first love: Him. If I never teach or lead or speak or guide again, I will still have Him. And in those darker moments when He seems to have gone on other business, I still know Him and remember the faithfulness of days when I was empty and He filled me, when I was broken and He healed me, when I was lost and He guided me, when I was tired and He held me. His hide and seek grace never ceases to surprise me or come at the wrong time or not arrive at all. He is not tamed or commanded, but I am His and wait on His presence, whenever He pleases.

Humbled, I do not want to teach or lead or speak or guide because I am talented, admirable, or worthy. I can lose everything, but if He is with me, I have all I need. My life has already been so rich with His blessings that it seems ungrateful to demand more. If I were to ask for anything it would be that I could reveal Him more to those who are still empty, broken, lost, and tired, that He might offer me that privilege, for them and for Him, but not for me.

Psychologists might say I need more self esteem, that it is perfectly acceptable to take pride in myself, my abilities. It is a dangerous precipice for me, tho. I lose Him when I find myself too fully. I don't want that. I would rather He find me swimming in His grace.

I don't know what is in store for me. The possibilities are limitless with my God. Thankfully, since I am such a mess! Fortunately, He is not.

Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

Psalm 139:23-24 NIV

Armchair QB

2011-07-11T10:37:00.001-04:00

Today is Monday so that means it is time to play armchair QB, or pastor. Unfortunately, I was not completely engaged in what Kirk was saying, although I did take notes. I was more involved in my own lesson being learned.

The text for the day is here with the message being about how God reacts to idolatry-with jealousy. The parallel was drawn between marriage and the covenant between God and his people, or the bride of Christ.

What was distracting me was one of those hide and seek moments with God.

I had come to worship still reeling from a cantankerous mood (not what my husband would call it) that has nagged me for the last couple days. I have been frustrated, discontent, anxious for many reasons. During the worship, phrases of songs drew my attention, challenging me: Do I refuse to admit I am weak? (Of course I do. I hate thinking I am weak. I want to be able to handle things.) Why are my fears not washed away? Am I afraid? Isn't there some fear behind all the anger? (See question 1's answers.) Consume all my darkness....how about even just half of the darkness that has been gnawing on me? (Probably little chance of that if I refuse to be weak enough to need help.)

Just enough spiritual poking that I knew God was trying to get my attention. So I started to listen, after first talking back, of course.

You know my heart's desire is to serve you. I just am so lost right now, so angry and I don't know why...

And then the pastor began to define jealousy: a feeling of resentment based on what someone has that you want. Ok, so maybe you are answering me already, I said smiling to myself. Suddenly, I realized what my ailment was-I was jealous.

Not of anyone in particular, not of anything in particular. Well, maybe of those bubbling-over-with-joy Christians. Oh, and of individuals who are in fulltime ministry of one sort or another. Oh, and people who have been Christians since in utero...not having to recover from such messes.

If I knew your plan, that I am still on track, that I am where and who you want me to be, I would feel better. I struggle with whether I have screwed up God's plan, though I remembered the day while crying to my sister that I let God down, she simply asked me if perhaps he had planned for all the bumps in my road. I worry that I will let you down, that I already have, but you knew I would, didn't you? The verses for today's message are on a page that I had written a note: "Tho God knows we will turn away, he remains willing to be our God."

Forgive my fear, my faithlessness, my unbelief. You created me. You woke up my spirit. Continue to recreate me. And thanks for the chat today. Talk to you later...(or amen?)

Adventures

2011-07-10T20:35:00.001-04:00

My husband and I like to take adventures. Some might call them vacations, but I don't relax easily (just ask my husband who has been trying to teach me how for 20 years). I prefer to think of them as adventures because we never truly know what will happen and that is ok with us. Last week, we went to Massachusetts, where I was born, to go whale watching. We stayed in a small beach community and had some great seafood.

The real adventure was trying to get back from Boston that first day. The roads were tricky, to say the least, but the problem was that the GPS lady would lose us in a tunnel, we would make a decision, the wrong one, and then she would re-route us to another tunnel where, you guessed it, we would make another wrong decision.

Kind of like life can be. We think we have a plan, move ahead with it, then something unexpected comes up-a loss, a hurt-and we make a poor choice. We lose our way. Many times it is difficult to find our way again.

That is how I have been feeling lately: uncertain, frustrated, lost, not sure which way to go, suspicious of trusting my own instincts. Wish the GPS lady would just recalculate and point me in the direction home.

Despite touring some of Boston's neighborhoods by accident on the way home from the aquarium, my husband was brave enough to try again the next day. We went back to Boston and got on a boat to see some whales. The grace of those large animals gliding through the water still captivates me. I also found out how much I love the water and the pitch of the boat. Seeing the sky meet the water uninhibited by land made me think of God creating things, how good it was then and now. On the water, the world felt right. Getting back to land, the human chaos was overwhelming.

But we didn't get lost going back that time.

Hope I find my way soon, as well.

Armchair QB

2011-07-04T15:10:00.000-04:00

I love a good message to gnaw on, particularly when I only get a taste of something and I want more. Yesterday Hope left me with such a hunger.

The text was basic enough: the difference between knowing God, as Moses did, and knowing about God, as many of us in the church claim to without really having a relationship with Him.

But what got me thinking was this text.

It is easy to see people who have a true intimacy with God and want what they have. It is quite another thing to persevere and take the risks to get it.

Like the Hebrews, we are not always willing to risk hearing from God. They heard God speaking from the mountain and were not drawn to him, but instead repulsed and terrified of Him. What were they afraid of, and are we fearful enough I wonder, but that is another post. The people asked Moses to go speak for them. Was it because they knew he had a connection with God or because they were tired of following Moses and it seemed like an easy way to off him?

And like the Hebrews, we are not always willing to wait on God's timing. In a short 40 days, that must have seemed like an eternity, they waited until the fear was too much. Making for themselves a controllable god, they used the jewelry the Egyptians had given them and fashioned a calf. Now, I cannot think of why that would be an acceptable god, except it wasn't threatening, didn't call to them from the mountain, didn't discipline them, and didn't ask them to go on wild chases through unknown lands, but it gave them some vague sense of security.

Lest you think I am being hard on the poor people, my thought instead is: don't we have our own golden calves?
When God seems far away and slow to answer, I rely on my talents, my own type of gold given to me. I work hard, and keep plugging away, until something gives-usually me. Then I am reminded that my own strength is not enough and all my talents cannot give me the peace I want. Somehow they actually highlight how inadequate I am without God.

Sometimes I rely on work to give me a sense of identity and worth, as my calf. Hoping that if I do a good enough job I will be recognized as worthy, only to find myself burnt out, begging God for rest.

Some people live vicariously through their children, only to be in distress and alone when the children leave home. Some cling ferociously to religion, only to find empty dogma.

The gold calves do not "go before us" to secure us, but imprison and entangle us.

We cannot make a neat, boxed god. There is only one God, and there is no box large enough to contain Him, nor is life in relationship with Him neat and orderly. And, once you experience His adventure, it is difficult to turn away.

Life is hard; there is no doubt of this. But He tells us to seek out the lost, comfort the hurting, heal the sick, free the bound. It is an exhilarating adventure for a passionate soul. But too often ours, and mine, are weak. Forty days feels so empty and long to wait. To go it alone is terrifying. Then, at the oddest moment, He peeks out, to gently remind us that He is walking near. Our child-like heart is at once both excited and hurt. Why won't He walk right with me? It would be so much easier, wouldn't it? Perhaps, but perhaps that is not His way. A parent who holds their child constantly will prevent that little one from walking, exploring. Perhaps God's "Where's Waldo" game is meant to teach us that we can follow Him without being held.

I write these blogs more for me, then for anyone who may take the time to read. I need to be reminded of how fun the divine hide and seek is. I need to remember that He will show up again. I need to remember the thrill of the adventure. It may not be the safe road, but it is certainly the most satisfying, and, ultimately, the only one I would choose, despite my whining.

“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.

“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you?

Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the king I tell you!"

From the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis

Late for the Rapture?

2011-05-21T14:16:00.001-04:00

“If the Lord had not cut short those days, no one would survive. But for the sake of the elect, whom he has chosen, he has shortened them. At that time if anyone says to you, ‘Look, here is the Messiah!’ or, ‘Look, there he is!’ do not believe it. For false messiahs and false prophets will appear and perform signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect. So be on your guard; I have told you everything ahead of time.

“But in those days, following that distress, "the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light; the stars will fall from the sky, and the heavenly bodies will be shaken.’

“At that time people will see the Son of Man coming in clouds with great power and glory. And he will send his angels and gather his elect from the four winds,

from the ends of the earth to the ends of the heavens.

“But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come. It’s like a man going away: He leaves his house and puts his servants in charge, each with their assigned task,

and tells the one at the door to keep watch.

“Therefore keep watch because you do not know when the owner of the house will come back—whether in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or at dawn. If he comes suddenly, do not let him find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to everyone: ‘Watch!’”

(Jesus' words from Mark 13)

Although I remember many predictions of the end of the world (1986, 1994, 1999, 2000), I thought this one was the most interesting, and only because it happens on my 40th birthday. Raptured for my birthday? Neat! Not having to live in the anxiety of turning 40? Even better!

Of course, as much as I would love Jesus to show up, I doubt he will be here today. And that is ok. I know there are people all over the news, twitter, facebook, diners or the work lunch room who are laughing at yet another crazy fundamentalist Christian. I even saw a website compare Camping's followers to Islamic extremists (Uh, no. Islamic extremists blow up themselves, and anyone around them, to get to heaven; Camping is merely waiting patiently for Jesus to show up-not trying to meet him part way.) But, I see a couple good things coming from the crazy Christians:

1) The Rapture is being introduced to a new generation.

Although this depends on you and me. Many people know about, and accept, the Mayan prophecies about 2012. Most Americans have seen the movie "2012" regarding cataclysmic events related to those prophecies. However, the people most vocal about the rapture are strange people who keep predicting it over and over without apology for getting the date wrong, and they have become jokes, "crazy Christians." We can use this opportunity to let others know the Truth. And, please, don't go handing out tracts to everyone. Jesus called people by name. He had conversations. He had dinner parties. This weekend we don't even have to work hard to figure out how to bring up Jesus. All you need to do is talk about current events!

2) The Church is being challenged to think about the second coming biblically-perhaps leading Christians to read the Bible.

While it is stated that 92% of American households owns a Bible, biblical knowledge is pretty abysmal according to Gallup:

-- Only half of adults interviewed nationwide could name any of the four Gospels of the New Testament.

-- Just 37% of those interviewed could name all four Gospels.
-- Only 42% of adults were able to name as many as five of the Ten Commandments correctly.
-- Seven in ten (70%) were able to name the town where Jesus was born, but just 42% could identify him as the person who delivered the Sermon on the Mount.

At the restaurant where my husband & I went for breakfast this morning, two older gentlemen where discussing different passages related to the end times in contrast to how Christians should live. "All some of them think about is being born again, but they don't read the rest of the Bible to know how to live," one of the men said. I do agree with this to an extent. If we focus on being "born again" as a type of fire insurance, no real conversion of the heart may ever happen. If we are truly born again, this new birth informs, and transforms, our lives. The thirst for God and his Word should grow.

3) Goofy as their caravan was, Camping's troupe wanted to tell others about the 2nd coming of Christ.

As Kirk, my wise young friend, put it: "Why would they wait till the last minute?" Maybe this will challenge us, not to ask people to throw on a Jesus life preserver, but to preach the Gospel-to ourselves first, and then to those we love, and then to those who cross our paths. Believers have become a little nervous about this, I think. Probably related to too many apocalyptic predictions, but we can use them as a means to evangelize! Pray for boldness. Pray for opportunities. We shouldn't let chance pass to lovingly correct the rumors and share Christ with others!

Sharing each other's burden...

2011-05-06T12:08:00.002-04:00

Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic,

love one another, be compassionate and humble.

1 Peter 3:8 NIV

The weather had been dreary for weeks, but the day of the funeral dawned bright and clear. It could easily have been considered a beautiful day, if we were doing something else-fishing, getting married, camping, going for a walk. But this day we would be burying my grandfather, and there was difficult work to do.

The family got to the church early to make sure things were right. And of course, things weren't right. Not only were we missing my grandfather, but the power point wouldn't work that my cousin so diligently created and she was beside herself with grief and frustration. A woman came from work to fix that. At the last minute, the family considered the littlest great grandchildren's and great-grand daughter's response to Pops being "asleep" and we made a frantic search for a babysitter. Fortunately, a dear friend and her children came to the rescue easing the burden for the parents, and the older generations. My husband went to the funeral home instead of the church, but this also allowed me to be able to offer small comfort to my aunts by running for water and being helping hands where needed. God seemed to be with us in so many ways.

The viewing was incredible. The line was out the front of the church for hours. Partly as a joke, mostly because we were worried they would all speak (just kidding), we kept a pastor tally and counted at least 14. At least, there were 14 who 'fessed up to it! The pictures, the powerpoint, and the people that some of us hadn't seen in so long brought back sweet memories. My first Sunday school teacher (who we all know as "Teacher" and I am somewhat ashamed I still don't know her full name) recognized me. Some other women claimed to be Sunday school teachers, but "Teacher" is the one I remember most.

But, the best was yet to come! The casket was closed for the funeral and such a rejoicing time followed! I would not have thought we could have so much fun at a funeral. Of course, my grandfather always was a joker himself, and I know Pops was laughing with us. We laughed during my aunt's eulogy when she reminded us of how helpful he was, always had some odd part you needed in a hidden crevice of the basement. The crowd laughed as I poked a little fun at myself for being a nosy child who peeked inside pulpits, then admitted I had done it that very day. The pastor holding the service confessed that he and my grandfather didn't always see eye to eye on everything, but he knew Pops was talking to the Lord right then saying, "What? He really was right???" We laughed at how Pops rewired things in an interesting manner and how he was nearly electocuted one time but never let them know it. We heard stories of lives changed, hearts saved, and baptisms in the creek before the church's baptismal pool was installed. I loved hearing how my Pops was a "church planter before the term was cool" from a friend who had gone to Lancaster Bible College with him.

So many lively, wonderful stories! One could not help but be proud of such a home-going! I think all the saints would aspire to such a funeral. During the pastor's message, he reminded us that, even as we celebrate him going home, there is a party in heaven to celebrate his homecoming. He isn't just with Jesus and those family members that preceded him, but he is celebrating stories of lives changed that rippled into other lives....just as we were here.

After the burial, the family, and some friends who stayed to fellowship, were treated to a luncheon by the Silver Spring Baptist Church. It was more like a fun family picnic that we would have on Pop's birthday. I cannot think of a more fitting end to a most extraordinary day! We laughed, we told more stories, we caught each other up on our lives, and we watched the babies play. Although we lost our patriarch, we were still family.

None of this joy would be possible without the believers who had taught us, loved us, supported us, mourned with us, but also hoped with us. We were never alone in this. God was all around us, in the "one another-ness" of the Christian family.

A Preacher's Legacy

2011-04-30T12:07:00.001-04:00

You shall teach them diligently to your children,

and shall talk of them when you sit in your house,

when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up.

Deuteronomy 6:7 KJV

My grandfather went home to be with Jesus yesterday. My grandfather was a Southern Baptist preacher for as long as I can remember. I know he had a "former life." He had been an electrician at a local factory and in the navy before that, but I don't remember him as anything but a preacher.

When I was a child, I would go to church with my grandparents and my great-grandmother. While I would guess my mother probably had many struggles as a pastor's kid, for the most part, I enjoyed being a pastor's granddaughter. Sure, you were expected to set an example, but I was already used to that as the eldest daughter and granddaughter. There were wonderful benefits to being in the family. In the first church I knew him to pastor, my grandfather took me up to the bell tower and I saw that you really can have bats in the bellfry. I always had "back stage passes" to the pulpit and the pastor's office. Being nosy, I loved to see what the speakers stashed inside the pulpit. His home office/library smelled of old books and typewriter correction fluid. I loved to pound on the typewriter (before I could type) on which he wrote out his sermons and the Sunday bulletins.

Since none of the churches he pastored were large and wealthy, he was an old school pastor-the preacher, the plumber, the hospital visitor, the secretary, and sometimes the worship leader. Sure, there was a pianist, but my grandfather led the congregation in hymns (and sang loud enough that it didn't matter if you were on key, tho I am not sure if Southern Baptists ever mind-just sing it loud). I most think of The Old Rugged Cross, How Great Thou Art, Amazing Grace (all Baptists love this one) and Just As I Am (seemingly endless verses during the altar calls). And, as any good Southern Baptist, he knew how to preach loooooooooong. We sometimes would make faces or gestures hoping he would wind things down so we could get to lunch, until my grandmother would catch us and pop our knuckles, anyway.

My grandfather introduced me to the God that would pursue me throughout my life, even when I couldn't or wouldn't respond to Him.

I never thought of him as a "pastor" but my grandfather was a preacher. He declared, sometimes with a forceful bellow and a slap to the pulpit, sometimes with a confidant's whisper and tears, John 3:16- "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son that whosoever believeth in him shall not perish but have everlasting life." He preached forgiveness of sin, repentance, justification thru the sacrifice of Jesus, that Jesus would be coming again, soon, and we could share in his eternal life (with a mansion and crowns).

I can say I definitely didn't understand these concepts (except Jesus coming again which made me a little scared as a kid). The KJV he used, and my sinful nature, made me think God was old, that Christianity had become irrelevant, that the Bible was just myths of long dead peoples. I had a lot more living (and sinning) to do before I was willing to follow Jesus, not just know about him. I do realize how blessed I was to be immersed in Christianity, because seeds were planted.

I know that my love of the Word was a seed that my grandfather planted. I believe my desire to study the Word and teach others was a seed he planted. I believe my faith in God, my trust in Jesus and my desire to see him when he comes again, is a seed my grandfather planted. And he probably planted similar seeds in many of his family, his churches, people he met on the street. He never did meet a stranger and he never minded telling them about his Jesus.

Though my family will miss him, and there is sadness, I cannot help but think how amazing it must be, that my grandfather is walking with his Jesus. And one day, we will have a family reunion in heaven, with our Jesus.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses,

let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.

And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us

Hebrews 12:1 NIV

Wedded Bliss

2011-04-10T21:58:00.000-04:00

I just arrived home after attending a very sweet bridal shower. The bride-to-be is giddy with excitement, and altho I would not say the groom-to-be is giddy, he is certainly eagerly looking forward to the coming day. Her excitement made the air of the party electric, and it was impossible not to be effected. I thought of my own wedding, how good it has been to be married, and how much more I love him today than I did when we said our vows. Turning back to the shower, I wondered if she might think the same thing in their future.

All the bridal giddiness made me think about how I respond to God, of course. You see the association, right? Yeah, me neither, until I heard some interesting thoughts this past week on how we relate to God. I can't remember who or when or where, but it changed the way I prayed.

Altho confession and repentance are good things, we also need to walk into, and in, the love God offers. The thought was that many of us batter God with a litany of our sins. Imagine if my husband comes home and all I do is complain about myself and tell him each thing I did wrong the whole day. One after another, I just pummel him with all my shortcomings. Certainly, there are days I feel dreadful about something I did and feel like I let him down. One those days, my husband listens until he embraces me, shortcomings and all, reassuring me that he is with me and loves me anyway. If this mere man can love me like this, how much more does God love me?

I think we sell God's ability to love rather short. Probably it is related to how unlovely we see ourselves, but that really is the wrong way of looking at ourselves, anyway. These thoughts have changed how I pray. I have been entering my prayer time this week from a place of wonder that God sees me as lovely instead of focusing solely on my shortcomings.

The past couple weeks have been challenging. Growth usually is. Sometimes I wish Jesus would just show up; I am tired. And today, after the bridal shower, I asked myself if that is the right perspective? I am begging Him to show up like a mother who waits for the father to come home so she can have a break and he can deal with the family hassles. Should I really be that familiar? Assuming that I know something, that I know better than God? Instead, I think that I should be as giddy as my friend. Sure, the wait has been long and frustrating at times, but the day is coming! My Beloved will come for me! And it is indeed very exciting...

Closed For Business

2011-04-07T21:34:00.000-04:00

I have been taking a break...from a lot of my life.

It is easy to become overwhelmed with the daily treadmill of life, you know-work to run home and, well, work so that you can fight to get to sleep so you can get up and start all over again. This seems to be particularly true with all our technology that is supposed to help us stay connected, even when we should probably disconnect, at least once in a while. (Maybe that weekly Sabbath that God suggested????)

Feeling emptied by my run on the treadmill, I decided to stop, to take a break, to close shop for a little. I changed my routine activities and some relationships. To be honest, I needed to face up to the fact that I wasn't much good to anyone constantly running on empty but distracted by the buzz of a schedule to keep and constant chattering of people around me.

Sometimes the quiet is unsettling. I want to be distracted from my reality, the unfinished business I have been working on, or the sinister snickering somewhere in the back of my head.

But, I know that it is ok. I need to take some time to re-evaluate, renew, replenish, rediscover me. And, in some weird way, stepping back has also given me the space to re-evaluate, renew, replenish and rediscover Him. Not that I had forgotten or lost Him; I found that my passion had dulled. Somehow, my relationship to Him became skewed, affected by my frustration at myself. At times it seems hard to trust God, the Father or the Brother, when our human family is so hurtful. Of course, in "weller" moments, the Father and the Brother give me reassurance that I do have a family.

And, God reassures me now, that He will walk with me. He will soften my heart, bind my wounds, and call me daughter as He pulls me closer to Him.

It will all be made right when it is time.

Grace, again...still?

2011-02-13T12:08:00.001-05:00

There is this quote I saw once, "I try to take things one day at a time, but sometimes several days attack me at once (attributed to Jennifer Yane)."

It has been that kind of week, month, really. The house was torn up for a remodeling project, the puppy has been teething on my arm when I try to read or blog, work has been challenging and busy, my son was in a car accident (tho he was just a bit sore thankfully), and I have just been generally grouchy. Menial chores feel like huge expeditions. Sleep is never restful. I am thinking, fretful, even in my dreaming.

I chose not to go to church today. I am too grouchy. I smoked a couple cigarettes. I cursed a lot yesterday. I can't find my way out of this self destructive, self deprecating mind set. I have also decided that I don't act like much of a Christian, so I will stop identifying myself as such. In fact, maybe I will give up this gig altogether, altho I cannot relieve myself of the presence of God.

This passage that I stumbled over seems so appropriate:

"The greatest damage to self-esteem, however, comes from repeated failures at trying to change addictive behavior..... In some other culture, in a society that reveres the mystery of human nature more than ours does, such failures at self-mastery might not be so devastating. They might even be seen as affirmations of one's essential connectedness with the rest of creation and of one's essential dependency upon the Creator. But in our modern Western society, we have come to see ourselves as objects of our own creation. When we fail at managing ourselves, we feel defective."

Who told me what a Christian acts like? Who told me how "good" a Christian must be? Seriously??? For people who have been saved and loved thru grace, while in our filthy sin, somehow, now we have to speak, eat, act a certain way? Seems like this is a longstanding problem of our arrogance:

Are you so foolish? Having begun in the Spirit, are you now being made perfect by the flesh? Galatians 3:3 NKJV

It is amazing that we will begin with awe at grace, but at some point take up our own efforts again, as tho we can keep God happy or earn his love. But, I can't. I wish I had the power, but I don't, even with something as benign as work. Sure, I study and have been trained in many parts of my job, but it is hard leading stubborn, sinful people (I have a whole new understanding of Moses and respect for the local pastors!). When I lay it all on God, ask him to guide me thru the day because I need to rely on his strength, want to demonstrate his loving-kindness and make decisions that follow his wisdom, my day tends to go well enough, with less anxiety.

It brings one of my least favorite verses to mind: My grace is enough for you. When you are weak, my power is made perfect in you. 2 Corinthians 12:9 NCV. I suppose what I dislike most about this verse is that it tells me I must be weak & inadequate; these are things that I fight against with ever fiber of my being. But, is it just the influence of my "modern Western society" that I must be better, more, overachieving, self sufficient, type A?

This is my nature, but my spirit understands differently. My spirit understands that I am a new creation...being transformed...even as my nature argues that I have not changed. No miraculous relief, but rather a continued hobble reminds me of how much I still must rely on God. Perhaps that is just as well given my leaning toward pride and self reliance.

Oh, how annoying this journey is.

Passage is from Addiction & Grace by Gerald G. May.

Prayers for Kate

2011-02-08T16:07:00.002-05:00

Father...

I don't fast well. I don't go to church well. I am bitchy and stingy and prideful. But I want to ask you...

There is this little girl. She is beautiful, but very sick, and her parents are pleading. Would you let her grow up, so maybe she could grow up to be as fallible and sinful as the rest of us?

What are the right words? I know you CAN heal her-why don't you? Wouldn't that mess with everyone's head, if you would heal hers and erase that cancer? How much glory would come your way?

Or isn't it about miracles?

Is the healing not here? Not for now?

If you don't answer our prayers the way we want, we just say that you heal a different way. Is that our way of letting you off the hook?

You know I don't like to ask you for things. I am afraid of being turned down, turned away. Is my faith small, or just my concerns? Because, this one, I would like you to hear...

I don't know, Father. I don't have any answer, but I just want you to remember Kate, and Holly & Aaron.

Our Mission

2011-01-02T18:01:00.000-05:00

Don't begin by traveling to some far-off place to convert unbelievers. And don't try to be dramatic by tackling some public enemy. Go to the lost, confused people right here in the neighborhood. Tell them that the kingdom is here. Bring health to the sick. Raise the dead. Touch the untouchables. Kick out the demons. You have been treated generously, so live generously.

Matthew 10:5-8 The Message (Love it in this translation!)

Trust Me

2011-01-02T17:52:00.000-05:00

Picture from Robert Karwowski's trip to Uganda

Katie Davis, a missionary in Uganda, posted this on her Facebook page yesterday: Jesus, bring me ANYTHING that brings you glory. Katie is an amazing young woman, but I still winced at that sentence (musical though it may be).

Right now, I have strep throat. I have been sick since Tuesday and am still not 80%. Thanks to antibiotics and analgesia, like ibuprofen and tylenol, I will suffer as little as possible and will recover without complications. But, it has also left me with the consideration that I am not strong enough to be in some country where cholera and malaria are common.

Even in my very comfortable American life, it is a dangerous prayer.

What if Jesus asks me to give up my comfortable SUV that lugs me thru the 5 snowstorms we have in a 365 day year so that I can save gas money to give that money to orphans or homeless? What if Jesus brings me to a job that pays little but where I can make a large impact for Him? What if Jesus nudges me to drop the tactful political correctness and live sold out for him? What if living for him means less for my bank account, reputation, comfort but more ridicule, loneliness, disgrace?

I laugh at that. One of my favorite prayers is: Teach me your will for me because I know you love me best. How I need to remember this before I try to surrender! I suppose, since God knows my heart, He would find this preferable as well.

If God loves me better than anyone I know loves me or even better than I could love myself, HOW could I expect His leading to leave me in a terribly place? Sure, sometimes the land between is not so comfortable, but I am passing through only, on my way.

Perhaps it comes from a posture of believing God to be so great, so powerful, so magnificent, that I assume He would ask great things from a yellow bellied whimp like me. I forget about the quiet gentleness of His whisper. I forget about the God-in-babe.

Perhaps, as it was for Mary and Moses and Abraham and so many others, that God doesn't ask them to do "great" things. Instead He asks us to become co-conspirators as HE does great things. He asks us to be His womb, His mouth, His blessings to the world, His hands and His feet.

So, yes, Jesus, bring me anything that brings you glory.

Prayer for This New Year

2010-12-31T20:31:00.000-05:00

Some moments seem too heavy; some days too long. As youth slips quietly away, so does the silly notion of hoping only in self. Father, in this new year, RE-new. Rekindle passions that have died down. Release us from tethers that we have allowed to bind us. Restore the vigor to our prayer that we may soar to you. You are our hope, our strength, our life. Amen.

Even youths grow tired and weary,

and young men stumble and fall;

but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.

They will soar on wings like eagles;

they will run and not grow weary,

they will walk and not be faint. (Isaiah 40:30-31 NIV)

Christmas Services on Internet

2010-12-23T07:42:00.000-05:00

The "official" statement is:

This Sunday is our CHRISTMAS INTERNET SERVICE.

We will start at 7:58AM and the ONE HOUR service

will be replayed at the :58 minute mark of every hour.

In case you were wondering why we are doing this:

- To reach more people
- To give all our tremendous volunteers a day off
- To encourage families to watch the service together with friends, families and neighbors
- To give people a “taste of Victory” before they attend.
- To stay connected to the “tribe” even when we are all in different parts of the country
- Why not?

http://www.victorychurch.ws/

My personal take:

Long before I actually set foot in a church building, I felt this pull to the Divine. I had no clue what it was and investigated many "paths to god." If you are in that same place, what safer way to investigate church than in the privacy of your own home??? Give it a view.

Another reason to check it out is that you might be in the place I was a year or so back: looking for a church home. These guys are a little nuts, especially that Children's Pastor, Vinnie DePaul, but they are also just crazy about Jesus. Not too bad for a church, huh?

And maybe you are just far from home like my sister. Here is your chance to watch Victory in action, not just listen on the WJTL!

Merry Christmas! May you find the HOPE of this messy world!

Grace to All~

Jaime

Year In Review

2010-12-19T19:03:00.000-05:00

Everyone seems to say this has been a rough year. I think this has been a blessed year: losing my job, starting smoking, getting a new job, struggling with decisions, loving an imperfect husband poorly, quitting smoking, looking at myself more honestly in the mirror...

All of these things have seemed so hard, too hard, at one point or another, but they have given me blessings that I don't know if I would have received any other way.

When I lost my job, I was blasted with this awareness of being cared for by God. He played hide and seek (I swear He loves that game!) and left gifts that knocked me over with His goodness and providence.

There have been times during this year that it has been "one day at a time" or just 12 hours at a time, particularly with the smoking. I have also been blessed with some of the most amazing friends a girl could ask for, if she even knew who to ask for! Again, an example of God putting people in my life that I may not have chosen but also didn't know that I would need their particular brand of love.

Lastly, I have the absolute privilege of growing! Growing is painful and awkward and often messy. My pride prefers when I can pick something up easily, but my spirit soars when I am able to do something unnatural. Over the years, I have heard people talk about practicing principles and I took that to mean that they live by that principle. This year, I am not so sure that is what it is supposed to mean.

I would like to say I am an honest person, but when I am in a disagreement with my husband and it would be easier to throw a tantrum than face things with truth, I see my dishonest edge creep up. When I am feeling good about having some freedom from something another person struggles with, I am not humble. In both situations, I have been learning to PRACTICE being honest when it scares me or humble when it means I understand that I have only been given a reprieve from that struggle, and that by the grace of God alone-not by me!

I love the opportunities I have to grow today. I love the journeys with God. And I love all of you who walk with me, more than you even know!

God With Skin

2010-12-16T21:28:00.001-05:00

Advent is the season that Christians wait in expectation...for a Baby to be born amidst barn animals and for the victorious King to return in power. Somewhere between here and there, we rejoice that we have not been forgotten. God hears us, loves us, rescues us.

This is actually my favorite season in the year of the Church. I know Easter is supposed to be. If it weren't for Easter, we would just be a hopeless, hot mess of sin, but there is something about the subtlety of Advent that grabs me. I think it is because, as the nights grow longer and the cold gets in my bones and the pressure of doing things "right" (right decorations, right present, dinner done right) increases, there is this Whisper that none of those things matter. The 400 years of God's silence were like a long, cold winter, but all the while God had a rescue in the works. This year I was thinking, if that Baby really was the Savior of the world, how could we want anything else? I can't come up with a single thing that I need when I think about what that Incarnation means to me.

And then, in that between place where we find ourselves, between the Baby and the King, I wonder what it means if God is within us? (remember those little papers you colored in Sunday school where the door to the heart swung open and Jesus was inside?)

Is it enough, as a follower of Jesus and a daughter of the King, to say, "I'll pray for you"? Sure, Dad will show up, but shouldn't I as well? Maybe He shows up IN me. It seems too easy to keep my paycheck in the bank and pray for the poor. It seems calloused to meet in my comfortable church building and try to remember to pray for the persecuted church, when I get the Voice of the Martyrs newsletter to remind me. It feels shameful to know I will have a nice dinner with my family and not invite friends who have no one to eat with.

Could it be Dad tugging at my heart to show Him to the world? Telling people about Him is good, but how will they know Him unless they see Him? I have lots of questions and few answers. But I am pretty sure that I need to do more, be more, listen more, love more, cry more, give more, laugh more. Of course I will keep praying since I like to talk with Him, but giving God my wish list isn't enough. I believe we are to be incarnations, God with skin, to the people around us.

Speak, I am listening, and I will respond...

2010-08-19T15:27:00.001-04:00

Many people want to hear from God. They go to church and pray fervently. Some spend great chunks of their lives meditating to clear their minds in hope of communing with the divine. Still others visit psychics or religiously monitor their horoscopes.

I do believe God speaks, but I think the more important issue is: How do we respond when He does? I mean, I think God speaks in all sorts of ways, just not always as clear as we would like. Fear, obligations, insecurities make us second guess whether we REALLY heard God say what we think He did. Or maybe Satan simply hisses, as he did to Eve "Did God really say...."

As our small group has being working thru the old testament, I came across two examples of how I can respond to God when I do hear from Him. The first is Samuel, and the second is Saul.

Samuel is the son of Hannah. Her heartfelt prayer for a child was answered when she conceived Samuel after suffering for many years with infertility. Amazingly, she gave this son up to serve God, as she had vowed when she prayed. (Altho this is a topic for another time, how many of us try bargaining with God only to forget Him and the vow when the crisis passes? Hannah didn't.)

As a child, Samuel served in the temple under Eli, the high priest. The story I want to look at happened when Samuel was about 12. You can read it here.

Verse 1 tells us how infrequently God spoke in those days. It was rare. There weren't people running around having visions. God seemed pretty quiet. Perhaps not so different from our time.

Samuel's bed was near Eli so that Samuel could respond quickly if Eli called him during the night. Of course, this night, poor old Eli just wanted to sleep. Instead, God calls to Samuel. Three times Samuel responds by running to Eli's side. On the third time, Eli figures out perhaps it is God. Remember, since God didn't speak often, it is really no wonder that Eli didn't think of this earlier.

Obviously, God breaking his silence was an important thing, even a strange thing. Eli instructed Samuel to say, "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening," should he hear God's calling again. And he did.

A fourth time, God called, but Samuel did not use the words Eli gave him. Perhaps he was still unsure whose voice it might be because he left out the "Lord" when he responded. The point really is that he did respond, however hesitantly.

And even more to the point, God spoke. He spoke unexpectedly, a rare event at that time, to a person no one would have expected, a child. This child may have been doing the chores of God, but he didn't yet know God. Having now met God, Samuel becomes more sensitive to listening to Him. People begin to see Samuel as a prophet, and God continued to speak with Samuel as he grew up.

Then, there is Saul. We can read his story in 1 Samuel 9 & 10.

Here is a young man whose family seems to be fairly comfortable and who is impressive in physical appearance. Every mother's dream for her little girl, right?

Of course, he doesn't appear to be the most resourceful person. He can't find the donkeys, and he has to wait until his servant gives him direction, "Let's check out the wise man in the nearby village." When he meets up with the wise man, Samuel, Saul is taken by surprise. Samuel declares that Saul is God's choice for king, anointing him and giving him instructions, even telling Saul how God's spirit will come upon him.

Sure enough, Saul meets up with some prophets and God's spirit descends on him and transforms his heart. Isn't it great to receive confirmation like that? I want that, to know I am on the right path, that God really does have a plan for me. Saul doesn't seem to appreciate this tho. When he is questioned by his uncle about what the prophet said, Saul leaves out the most important stuff. Perhaps he still doesn't believe? Or maybe he just doesn't feel worthy.

Samuel brings all the tribes together and presents Saul as the king, but wait, he isn't there. A search finds him, all 7 feet of him, hiding in the luggage.

So why do these two stories appeal to me?

Samuel was an unlikely choice for God's audience. He was a just child who didn't know God. The whole experience was ambiguous-where did this voice come from in the darkness? Was it a dream? Was it Eli talking in his sleep? Samuel ignored the questions, trusting Eli, and answered God's call, not just to the voice that night but also by growing in his relationship with God.

Saul seems like a really good choice. He is tall, handsome, from a good family. His experience with God is through a prophet, a man who spoke for God after speaking with him. Samuel's prophesies actually came true, unlike some goofy online psychic. God wasn't playing hide and seek. He was upfront and direct. But Saul wasn't man enough, or adventurous enough, or confident enough, to step up to this calling of God.

We often wonder what God wants us to do or we want Him to speak to us. I think those are admirable questions, but my question is, how do we respond when He does speak? There is a whole book of God speaking. Yes, it's the Bible. And that is even besides the Spirit speaking or any other guidance that God might give. Do we stand up and say, Yes? Or do we hide in our junk and hope He goes away?

I want to stand up and say "yes." I want to not hide in all my insecurities and inadequacies and hurriedness. I pray to be available and willing. I pray to hear Him. Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.

Real Life is the Mission

2010-08-15T22:12:00.002-04:00

There is a saying, "Bloom where you are planted." I don't know who said it, but I am sure I would not like them. I first heard it when I was a child, and at that time, I knew I could not bloom in the family to which I was born. Then as a young adult, I heard it again, and again, it didn't seem to apply. It echoed the hopelessness of my life. Nothing had ever, nor would ever, it seemed, go right for "blooming." Best I hoped for was survival.

Now, well, I am perhaps not quite so cynical or hopeless.

And perhaps now I get the concept. I am who I am, where I am, and no one else is or could be. That is actually good news.

Did you ever go to a big conference where there are powerful speakers that ignite in you the desire to do great things? I hate them, well, not so much the conferences but what they draw attention to. They remind me of my mediocrity, as well as my lack of achievements in my half a lifetime on this earth. I wallow in this for a while-how I let God down, how I am less than these amazing people who seem to sacrifice everything for God while I work my mundane job and cook a frozen dinner and meet with a girlfriend for a frappacino. I want to evangelize the world, preach a moving sermon that leads many to Jesus, feed the orphans, leave my comfortable American life to die overseas for the mission of Christ. Later, when I take my regret to my Father, He quietly reminds me who, and Whose, I am.

I was not put here to do great things. Neither were you.

Isn't that a relief?

Not that we are off the hook altogether. Because of who I am and where I am, I have experiences and contacts that you do not, no matter how similar we may be. That is where God wants to use me.

Ouch. Somehow doing big, extravangant things seem easier than the little ones. The little things are more intimate, even a little scarier. The big things are more glorious so if one looks a little crazy, they are just that much closer to God. The little things get you strange looks and sighs from your family. The big things seem to bring pride, while the small things bring insecurity.

For me, I know how those small things frighten me, make me take a deep breath while pray, "Are you sure you want me to do THAT?" I will, but I just want to make sure that He is talking to me.

There is no greater high, for me, than for participating in an adventure with God. That doesn't mean I don't feel like an idiot. That doesn't mean that it even makes sense. Recently, while following what I believe was His direction, nothing exciting happened. No insightful conversation, no tangible result for either myself or the others. But I was obedient. Sometimes knowing the "why" can result in pride, so I am content with simply being obedient.

What does this look like in "real" life? How can we practice being part of God's mission?

He who sees a need and waits to be asked for help

is as unkind as if he had refused it.

~Dante Alighieri

Galatians 5:1

2010-07-25T20:03:00.001-04:00

I have quit smoking, again.

"Again" is the main word in that sentence. I had not smoked in years, but I picked up again when I lost my job. Then I quit for a couple days before my new job seemed to push me to an emotional cliff. Then I quit again a month or so later for a couple of weeks before a bad night at work when I ripped my patch off and bummed a smoke from a client. Talk about insanity.

So, once again, I begin this journey, seeking freedom. For those of you who know me well, I researched whether God would really have a problem with me smoking, whether it was indeed a sin. My husband, both annoyed with the nasty habit and my lack of perseverance, is convinced it is a sin. Here is the heart of the issue: my heart.

Watching Lord of the Rings today, I am confronted with this. Gollum, the dreadful beast that covets the Ring, "my precious," was a very typical silly, fun-loving hobbit until the Ring happened upon his fishing buddy. (Faint whispers there of James 1:14 for me.) In that unexpected encounter, Smeagol begins his transformation into, his incarceration as, Gollum. He went from living a pleasant existence in the green, care-free shire to an animal-like survival, alone while hiding in the darkness of caves. The duality of his nature is unmistakable as he speaks in the 3rd person about himself in evil hisses and choking gasps. Even Frodo, in his journey to carry the Ring to its destruction, shows a distinct spiritual wearing as his physical features and mood changes.

As I watch, I have the eerie sense of how my heart must look under the burden of sin. Certainly, cigarettes are no horrible thing. But how my spirit changes. I hide, from my husband, from my friends. I am embarrassed before God. He has done such amazing things in my life-why do I become overwhelmed? Why am I faithless, creating my own golden calf out of tobacco and paper? When I am smoking, I notice a difference in how I am able to pray, or not pray. My spirit feels like Gollum, bent over, emaciated, filthy.

For this reason, I conclude that for me, yes, smoking is a sin. You will have to come to your own conclusion. As for me, it is for freedom that Christ has set me free. I will stand firm and not be taken into slavery, again.

Me+You+God=Community?

2010-07-23T15:48:00.000-04:00

Oneness cannot be achieved just between God and self;

rather oneness involves God,

self and others and the world around us.

-Scot McKnight

It is easy to think that worship is about me and God. It is easy to rationalize that my sin is between me and God. It is easy to say that I can pray anywhere, so I don't need church. It is easy to want to believe all that, but none of it is true.

Sure, that "personal" relationship with Jesus is important, but He never intended it to stay between the two of us. In fact, Jesus is the person who insists that his followers "GO!" and teach others what they have come to understand about God. Today, belief is private..and with that sentiment so, it would seem, is our worship, prayer, confession, even God. It doesn't seem like participating in a community is all that important.

But I am coming around to the idea that not only is it biblical, it is necessary.

As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another, says the author of Proverbs.

On my own, I am prideful, selfish, prone to melancholy, & critical. These are only the most glaring sins that I can think of easily. Ask my husband, and I am sure he can add to the list. But that is really my point, in doing life with others, I become a little more humble-aware that I have assets as well as those liabilities, I have learned to be a little less selfish, and I have tried to tone down my critical attitude. On my own, I would not have an opportunity to practice these things, if I even got sick of myself enough to want that.

I don't think that moral growth is the only reason for community. What about safety, celebration, mentoring, shared burdens?

One really can be the loneliest number, and also the dullest, most stagnant, and depressed.

So, I admit that I may need community. Not just friends or mentors, but people who challenge me to grow, love me when I cannot love myself, call me on my foolishness, celebrate with me and expect me to do all of these things with them. Is your church like this? Living in community every day, not gathering for a passive hour and a half on Sunday?

Together

2010-06-04T22:58:00.000-04:00

My mother has told me that my first word was, "why," and my first sentence was, "What's that?" Needless to say, I was full of questions. Still am, tho I wonder sometimes (See?!) if it is so that I can gather information or just so I can be "right." Either way, on this blog I have asked many questions, found some answers, but uncovered even more questions. Like, What's it all about?

I still don't know what it's ALL about, but I do know what chunks of this puzzle may be. As I considered my last post with friends, both face to face and online, it seems that community is one of those chunks.

I have been blessed, not just with grace, but with an amazing group of women around me. It would be easy to downplay the significance, yet I know how lonely life can be without people to walk alongside you. Altho my mind wastes time gnawing on the "big" questions, I find God has a way of keeping me grounded. While I wonder what I should do with my life, who God has made me, why I have been so blessed, a woman calls. This woman calls because her husband has taken off for the weekend with all their money (unfortunately a few women have made this call lately). This woman calls to talk about her fears about changing jobs. This woman calls to celebrate her success in school. This woman calls to let out her sadness at the state she knows some children must live in and the pain of their childhood. This woman calls to say she misses me.

This tribe of vibrant women is the community that surrounds me. Within this community, I am needed, as much as I need it. I am mentored, and I mentor. I love, and I am loved. But that brings me back to the puzzle.

If the church doesn't notice me, if I can sneak in and slip out without anyone even knowing my name, does it matter?

I think it does. Frankly, I don't want to punch some heavenly time card. God deserves more than that. I want to be useful and to be part of. Maybe that is why the church is the BODY of Christ and not BODIES?

Community, doing life together, not only wards off the chill of loneliness, but it gives us reassurance and encouragement when things seem difficult. Knowing someone is cheering for me helps me to persevere when I am exhausted. And I don't think that cloud of witnesses has to be a bunch of dead saints. Live ones do even better since I can hear their shouts, feel their hugs, and receive their suggestions. This is a gift, not a weekly obligation.

But, how to get there....

What's it all about?

2010-05-30T20:43:00.000-04:00

A few years ago, my husband and I were very involved in serving at church-literally, since we made coffee and did hospitality stuff. This opportunity gave us purpose, got us connected, made us visible, and grew us in ways I didn't expect for something as benign as hospitality. Unfortunately, our community, the evening service, began to decline and there was talk of the church not offering it anymore. Around the same time, my husband took a night shift job and would need to sleep at the time of the evening service. After considering everything, we made the decision to leave and go to a morning service. Leaving our connections, not just in terms of people, but also commitment, left us feeling disconnected. Since we have been disconnected, I can't help but ask what is the point of all this anyway?

Perhaps I have allowed myself to get a little TOO disconnected. About a year after moving to the morning service, we decided to find a closer church and really haven't connected anywhere yet. We have tried. We attend a new church pretty faithfully. For me, anyway, there is still this void. I can get teaching other places, altho this church does a good enough job. I tried to fill this void by volunteering, but perhaps kids' ministry isn't my cup of tea. The music is adequate. The people are talented. But...there is that crucial sense of community that continues to be lacking.

Now, I admit some of this is probably my fault. I love the people in my small group now, and I am not willing to give them up yet. Knowing me, I will never be willing, until they all move away or lock the doors to keep me out. Is that what is missing-a small group connection, or is it just another thing to keep me busy, in pursuit, hopeful?

I wonder what church is really supposed to be. If the Spirit is in all believers, do we need to meet weekly to have one dude with a hip, cool look explain a topic? If God always deserves praise, do we need a rocking band with screaming guitar solos for just a couple songs on Sunday?

To be honest, I don't know if I am going to figure this out anytime soon. This whole journey has been a process-slow recognition and understanding sprinkled with the occasional growth spurt. Altho sometimes I wish I just "knew" everything so I could do it all "right," the process has been a spectacular adventure that I really don't want to miss. So, who knows where this conversation will end?

God does, but I think He likes the adventure, too.

Prayer, and Praise, for the Journey

2010-05-02T19:27:00.000-04:00

The LORD your God himself will drive them out of your way. He will push them out before you, and you will take possession of their land, as the LORD your God promised you. (Joshua 23:5 NIV)

The past few months have been trying. Losing my job, looking for a new job & now getting ready to start a new adventure. Nothing has been very easy, but there hasn't been anything too bad, either. I cannot say I needed anything I did not have. I have had opportunities to spend time with people I cared about, to meet new friends, and to rest-emotionally, physically, and spiritually.

But it has also been a time when I have had to walk thru a lot of sadness, frustration and fear.

What if unemployment didn't come through? What if I couldn't find another job? What if my husband had a complete cow? What will I tell a prospective employer? How would we make it? Why did it happen at all? Why couldn't I just be who God wanted me to be? The fear was overwhelming at times. While I knew God is always with me, that wasn't enough with this anxiety. I needed God to go before me.

I believed that God had plans for me that were good. I knew God was never surprised, like I was by my job change, because He was, is and is to come. I knew God cared about me, was caring for me, but I had no clue where the good was.

As we studied the stories of the Exodus, I began to find a prayer and a confidence.

God chose this dysfunctional, powerless family to be His people. Using His power, not theirs, God freed them from the slavery of Egypt, led them thru the wilderness, fed them in that barren land, and brought them to the land He promised them. They merely had to take possession of the promise; God was driving the inhabitants out of the land.

And that became my prayer and my confidence: if God would go before me and make the way, I would, could, follow anywhere.

I admit that it isn't easy or natural, but I am in training. Each time I see God at work, each time He lets me in on His mission, each time He makes the way for me, I learn to rely more on Him as I exercise my faith. I figure it is practice. In many ways it is more about the journey than the destination. It is really cool to learn how to walk with Jesus...well, except I am pretty sure heaven has to be really cool, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Early on in this process, a friend asked me if I wasn't excited about what God had in store for me. Altho I was curious about the next adventure, the pain of rejection was just too close for me to be excited about the future. This week, when I told a friend that I had gotten a job, he responded with a, "Praise God!" I suppose I sounded underwhelmed, but it wasn't because I didn't believe He deserved praise. He gets the praise for all of it- for the lessons of this journey, for the life He has given me, for who I am becoming, and most of all for just being my God.

Numbers 20:2-13

2010-04-21T10:59:00.001-04:00

Tho it sounds a bit cliche, grace really is amazing to me. I have been blogging now for a few years trying to wrap my brain around it, finding myself again and again astounded by it. How could this God who cannot even look at sin continue to call to me lovingly for all those years? How could He want me?

Grace, to me, is this wonderful understanding that I cannot do anything to be worthy of His love or to lose it.

As I was working on a lesson for this week's small group, I wanted to find something cool, something profound and exciting, to teach. I didn't find it.

Anytime I teach, I want to be useful as an instrument of God, sharing His Word in such a way that others are moved and the Spirit shows up. I am not that powerful, even if God and His Word is.

Instead, what I found was this simplistic passage in Numbers 20.

The Hebrews had been wandering in the wilderness for 38 years, between the luxury of slavery and the poverty of freedom. They again begin to whine and quarrel at the lack of resources, the worst being the absence of water. In their despair, they complain that they did not die with the others.

I whine and complain, too. Being unemployed for the last few months, I wonder if I will ever find a job. It is frustrating and fear inspiring. I know people whose hearts are broken. I know people whose bodies are broken. Even if it doesn't show in front of most, there is a place within us that cries out, usually in the dark of night when we are most alone, for relief but worries that it will not come.

Moses and Aaron, just as we have seen them do before, take these problems to God. I don't always do that. I worry. I fidget. I scheme and plan. I screw up. Then I remember that I have a Power available to me.

Unlike my typical experience, God met them and gave them instructions on how to manage the situation. He told them to take the staff (the one that showed God's power in Egypt), speak to the rock, and water will pour from that rock to allow the people and their livestock to drink. What an easy answer to a problem that threatened to overwhelm the camp.

Easy for God, not so simple for goofballs like us, or Moses.

Where God gave emotionless instructions, Moses distorted them into arrogant anger. "Must WE...," he shamed the people and hit the rock twice.

Oh, how often I do that! I take God's words and add onto them, or I take God's instructions and personalize them for my ego. God said we are to do this? Well then I will leave everything, destroy my marriage, and give all I have emotionally. And it becomes about all I do for God instead of all He can do thru me. I make things harder than they need be, because somehow, somewhere in my brain, I know it can't be that simple. I know Jesus said His yoke is easy, but He didn't live in the 21st century. HUH?!

How often might God say to me, "Because you did not trust in me enough to honor me as holy in the sight of these people"? I really do want to believe that God can do things. Seriously. I just think He needs my help sometimes.

It is interesting that as I have been meditating on what God can do for me if I surrender that this passage comes up. To be relieved of my anger, my fear, my pride would be a wonderful thing. But to trust that He will put me in the right job is harder? In truth, to find relief from those character defects is even stretching my imagination.

Again, it feels like God is challenging me, "Do you trust me?" I wish I could answer, "With my whole being." For now the answer will have to be, "As much as my feeble spirit can, but I want to, oh, so much."

It is here that grace grabs hold. God didn't leave Moses altho He was displeased and Moses messed up. God still gave them water. God still allowed Moses to partner, imperfectly, with Him.

Father, thank you for loving a silly woman like me. Thank you for being here, with me. In my head, I know that all I need is You, but I wish I could trust in that as much as I trust in myself. Forgive my foolishness.

To Touch His Coat

2010-04-14T01:46:00.001-04:00

Ever have one of those songs that you find yourself humming over and over but can't stop once you realize it is there? Pastor Eric at Victory Church taught a bit on Mark 5 last week (and you can probably listen to the message this coming Sunday here at 11am EST), but I find I cannot get this woman out of my head.

Jesus was busy on a rescue operation for a leader of the church whose daughter was very sick. He was going to the house to heal her, accompanied by a crowd of gawkers & groupies. Contrasting with the pending death of an innocent child, a woman who has been suffering for many years comes into the crowd, a woman unclean because she has been bleeding for those years. We don't know exactly what is wrong with her, but according to Jewish law anyone who is bleeding is unclean and anyone who touches such a person also becomes unclean.

For a long time I have only seen her shame and unworthiness. She is an outcast because of her condition. This Sunday, reading it again, I began to see that she is very similar to me. How many things do I hide in my shame thinking, "if only people really knew me...?" But even further is how determined I am to try and fix things myself without bothering Jesus: She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse.

I joke sometimes that before I surrender I always end up with a flat and bloodied forehead from banging my head against walls. I think that if I just do a little more, do it a little better, work harder, think quicker...somehow I can get this. Self reliance is an American ideal, right? Perhaps, but is it really helpful?

When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak...

With nothing left to lose, I come to Jesus with my needs, but not quite honestly. Although I used to think this woman's action was a demonstration of how much greater her faith was than most, I am not sure. It is my ego that thinks I can read the right thing or ask the right question rather than admitting fully that I cannot do it, I cannot help me, that only He has my answers, that only He can be heal me.

The church leader went right up to Jesus pleading for help, and Jesus went with him. He was not embarrassed or ashamed to be completely in need. While this woman thought she could get away with not bothering Jesus, He turned the tables, as was His way.

At once Jesus realized that power had gone out from him. He turned around in the crowd and asked, "Who touched my clothes?"

His followers thought Jesus had lost his mind to ask a question like that since they were in a crowd. But Jesus kept looking around to see who had done it. It was important to Jesus to acknowledge what had happened, and to whom it happened. How often I just want to be ok and hide in the normality.

Then the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell at his feet and, trembling with fear, told him the whole truth.

I don't know that we can truly have an encounter with God and not be changed. Once she understood what happened, she couldn't deny it. She couldn't slink away and pretend she had stumbled a little but looked cool (bumping into Jesus) while she was doing it. The whole truth is that her body was broken, her spirit was broken, she needed help that she couldn't find anywhere, and that Jesus without taking a coin or demanding anything had freed her body and spirit.

"Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering."

After all those years as an outcast, how tender it must have sounded to be called daughter. For all her trying, all her doctors, all the uncomfortable treatments, and all the money spent, it was faith that healed her. It wasn't faith in her doctors or herself or her money, but in God & in His plans for her. When she came to the end of herself, she began with Him.

And so can I.

The good, the bad, the ugly

2010-04-12T14:02:00.002-04:00

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ,
set your hearts on things above,

where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.
Set your minds on things above,

not on earthly things.
For you died, and your life is
now hidden with Christ in God.

Colossians 3:1-3

Do you ever feel stuck? I want to do better, but I continue to do what I do. I want to be better, but I continue to be stuck in the same muck as yesterday, last week, two months ago, and sometimes worse.

How do we change?

Step 7 says that "We humbly ask Him [God] to remove our shortcomings."

The first time around the steps, I was pretty sure how this step worked. I prayed and asked for help, but I researched the spiritual priniciple that I could practice instead of the defect and carefully attempted to choose my responses. This time, I have a different take. Surrendering, yet a little more, that I cannot fix me, but instead I must let God change me. I have good intentions but seem to never quite get it. Isn't this simply accepting the nature of sin-that we miss the mark? Sin isn't that we intentionally hurt God and others, but often that we just can't help it.

It would be so much easier to rely on myself, but it wouldn't get me very far. In fact, it is that selfish and insecure ideal that seem to keep me stuck. When I trust that God is at work, and He always seems to be, and remember that God loves me more than I love myself, which surely is the case, it amazes me how much easier things go.

When I make God my goal and my motive, not to look good or to even be good, my whole perspective changes. I do not need to worry or become frustrated or hurried. He is in it all, the "good," the "bad," the "ugly."

Day of Gentle Grace

2010-04-06T09:29:00.001-04:00

This Easter weekend, Holy Saturday in particular, I got some interesting text messages:

One, from @erwinmcmanus, "It's the day between the days that changed the world. The dash - between the period . and the exclamation point!-between the cross and the tomb."

While a Jewish friend chided-"What do you Christians do now? Revert to Judaism?"

We would go to church as children on Good Friday for the reading of the Passion, and there was always a bit of sadness. The crucifix was draped in black cloth. There was no joy. Our Lord was dead, again. All day Saturday we waited, much as those earliest followers must have waited. Fortunately, we knew that there was another service later. The evening vigil mass was dramatic, beginning with the blessing of fire which created a sense of sparking our hope, warming our spirits that been a void without His presence. And of course Easter morning with candy and church and stiff new dresses and shiny tight shoes reminded us that things were right again as joyful, triumphant songs belted from the large organ.

What is the dash about? What is Holy Saturday all about?

Jesus, as the sin offering for all, made us all righteous on the Friday-just as the lamb slaughtered according to Mosiac law took the sin of the person. The price was paid. We are forgiven.

Of course, Sunday is the day we celebrate Jesus' victory over death. It was not enough that God paid the price for our expensive sinful natures to become holy. He showed again that nothing can keep Him from us. Neither sin nor death will keep Him from us.

Saturday is somehow a lost day, a dash. But as I was meditating on this, I began to see Saturday as a another sign of His gentle invitation.

You see, on Friday, God gave us everything we could possibly need to live. On Sunday, He asks us to spend our lives in relationship with Him.

God could have just snapped His fingers and had everyone in line. He had paid the penalty, so everyone was forgiven. It really was finished that Friday. Altho God desires relationship with us, He will not force Himself on us. He woos and calls, but we must answer.

Many people live in Saturday, indifferent, unaware, or unsure of what exactly happened. But some have chosen to step into Sunday-slightly confused, jubilant, unsilenced joy-and into that new life of resurrection, both Christ's and their own.

The Power of the Cross

2010-03-29T00:08:00.006-04:00

Tonight was another Easter play at Hershey Free. I always go, even when others groan that it is the same as the one done a couple years ago. For me, it is always a new chance for God to show up.

I didn't want to go to that first one. My husband really wanted to go, but I was being obstinate, as usual. Christian plays were lame. Husband was irritating me. I was nervous, not knowing what to wear for church things. Still, I went because husband had made a friend, and it was important to him to spend time with that friend.

I also just didn't want to have to sort through this God thing again. The Christian God that I had grown up with was more like some dusty, obscure character from a fable. My current higher power and I seemed to be getting along, and I wanted to just leave it alone. Still, in this weird place in my head, or maybe it was my heart, I knew that the categories weren't quite real and perhaps just rebellion disguised as an intellectual conversation.

The play was well done. I loved the orchestra. Having played the violin for many years as a child, I appreciate real instruments. The Jesus stuff was rather ho-hum. I didn't believe it anyway. It was ok for them to believe whatever they wanted, even if they believe this odd fairy tale.

But suddenly it became too real, maybe it was the dramatic change in the music, or the lighting, or maybe I was tired. The centurions kicked and pushed the bleeding actor down the walkway to the stage. The pained expression of the actor, the resignation in his body language, the grief of his mother, caught me by surprise. Emotion welled up.

"God, whoever you are, please don't do this to me. Can't you break this up? I can't stand it!" I prayed as tears ran.

As the one guard went to nail Jesus' hand to the cross, the tension nearly overwhelmed me. The Roman swung the mallet fiercely and the head flew off and bounced. I am not sure everyone noticed because the actors did a good job of staying in character, but I noticed. I chuckled, first at the mallet, and because I realized God was listening to me.

Then I realized I was in a new predicament: how to respond to a God who responded to me.

I said thank you, of course, but I couldn't shake the sense that Someone had upped the anty. Things had shifted from a comfortable kept-at-arm's-length understanding of a nebulous higher power to an active interaction with God. I left that play knowing something was different. Of course, that something was me, but it was also that the track I had been following was changed.

I didn't suddenly understand the Bible. I wasn't a Jesus Freak. But I was curious. As my curiousity grew, I became more willing and more open. I asked questions. I read. Gradually God revealed more to me. He is not a fable or a fairy tale. He is much too alive for that.

It was many months later that I was faced with a choice: my life or God's life for me. At that time I chose to consciously try it His way, but I also know I wouldn't have chosen Him had He not already chosen me.

As I watched the play this year, a new face sat beside me, anxious, uncomfortable, and fidgety. I couldn't help but be a little excited for her.

We love because he first loved us.

1 John 4:19

Pizza Heaven?!

2010-03-22T14:16:00.002-04:00

While out for lunch with my favorite blonde family at Infinito's, Kenton sighed and sat back in his chair, "This is my idea of HEAVEN!"

I cocked my head to the side asking, "Really?!" Sure, for a boy his age, a pizza buffet might very well be his idea of heaven, but it didn't stop there.

"Well, I could use a lot of money, too, then I could own the place and everyone could serve me," he added.

His sister wasn't going to let him get away with that, tho, "Ummm, isn't that a little backwards? Aren't we supposed to be serving God?"

"Oh, well, yeah," he rebounded with ease, "the people can serve me AND God!"

I laughed, but he caught me, "So what's YOUR idea of heaven?"

*silence, maybe a cricket chirped*

Fortunately for me, a glass got spilled, and I was off the hook. The conversation hasn't left me tho. I suppose it seems like a pretty easy question, but it has been tugging on me since.

I don't know enough dead people to desire to be reunited. I didn't want to get into a theological debate with a bunch of challenging kids over whether my dogs and birds and bunnies and rat are waiting for me. I am not convinced of the mansions I envisioned in a child's literal mind. But I believe it will be good. And here would be the thing that dogged me.

Life has been really good in the past several years. Things that were askew have been straightened, messes have been cleaned up, and relationships built. We are on the right track.

But, how much I do love the comfortable, the safe, the love, the abundance! Isn't that the American dream? I don't need to get to heaven to find those things. I have them. With a little more therapy, I can have the perfect marriage. With a little more time, I could have a cute little house. With a little more effort, I can have better health. With a little more energy, I could have...

When I get past all the things I can do, when I come to the end of me, this is what I find that my heart yearns for heaven to be like:

I want to really know God.

I know the Spirit lives in each believer and all that, but isn't it exciting to read that Adam walked in the garden with God? Wouldn't that be amazing, to have a lunch date with Jesus?

And as much as I desire it, it is also what makes me run back to hide in my comfortable life. It scares me. Kind of like when you are meeting a guy for the first time and you walk past him with your girl friends to make sure he isn't too gruesome and then you are scared to go back because he is cute. Oh, is that just me again?

You may see what I show you, but God has seen it all, been with me thru it all. Sometimes the thought makes me want to run, but to where? There is no where but him. I want to be brave, but I am not. Fortunately, unlike the guy in the lobby, I know God already loves me; I just need to believe it.

Because your love is better than life,

my lips will glorify you.

(Psalm 63:3 NIV)

Snotty thoughts

2010-03-19T11:24:00.000-04:00

I am still fighting a cold today, so I have been hanging on the sofa watching movies. Just done watching Kung Fu Panda. The part of this movie that caught my brain was that this fluffy, chunky, clumsy, & somewhat dense panda was supposed to be a martial arts master altho he knew he wasn't really.

I feel like that a lot. I am also fluffy, chunky, clumsy, & somewhat dense quite often. Am I who I am supposed to be? Am I even on the right track? A friend was relating a story of a recent date that he had with girlfriend and how offensive the show was. I actually had seen and liked the show and thought it was "real."

Is there supposed to be a chasm between "real" and "Christian?" And, worse yet, am I a bad Christian?

I am loud and opinionated, I drop the f bomb every so often (tho not so often), I am not worried about being around gay & bisexuals (unless they think I am cute-LOL), I don't want to convert my Jewish friends (unless God leads them to it), and I have a occasional smoke when the anxiety gets to be too much. I know it has become en vogue to have "Bible & Beer" or "Wine & Wisdom" groups based on an understanding of Christian liberties, but I haven't heard of a "Smoke & Spurgeon" yet.

Sometimes I feel lost, unsure. Not sure if I could conform if I really wanted to, but sometimes I yearn for the safety that comes from conformity. And then I wonder if this isn't some trick of my pride-if I know how I measure up, my confidence will be in myself, and not in God.

I don't believe I can bend God, apply enough pressure thru good deeds and holy thoughts, that I can get my own way. I do believe that when I bend to God, attempting to align my will with his, that there is a peace and congruence in my spirit. Is that even possible when conformity is based on what we see in the others around us instead of being focused on God?

Losing my job has removed so much control from my life. I was in control over how many hours I worked, how things were done, how people were treated, how much money I would make. Now I am drifting, uncertainly waiting, desiring that God is in control, desiring that I will be able to find constancy in him and his provision.

A prayer of St. Patrick

2010-03-17T10:06:00.001-04:00

Christ be with me, Christ within me,

Christ behind me, Christ before me,

Christ beside me, Christ to win me,

Christ to comfort and restore me.

Christ beneath me, Christ above me,

Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,

Christ in hearts of all that love me,

Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the Name,

The strong Name of the Trinity;

By invocation of the same.

The Three in One, and One in Three,

Of Whom all nature hath creation,

Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:

Praise to the Lord of my salvation,

Salvation is of Christ the Lord.

Random

2010-03-15T14:03:00.000-04:00

Not feeling well today. Maybe I have caught the husband's cooties. Either way, I was lying on the couch watching TV, like any good unemployed person with cooties should, when I was struck in the head. No, not with a rock, but with a hope.

A Beautiful Mind is the story of the gifted mathematician, John Nash, who struggled with schizophrenia, specifically three particular delusions in the movie, but he learned how to ignore them. Not pretend they aren't there, but to step over them, walk around them.

Russel Crowe as Nash stated, "I still see things that are not here; I just choose not to acknowledge them."

Wouldn't we all be better off if this is how we lived our lives?

Makes me think about all the negative things we can accuse ourselves of in times of stress and fear. I know there are voices that snicker and haunt, whispers of "You could never do that. You aren't good enough/smart enough/young enough/old enough/talented enough..." It seems this voice tries anything to get my focus off the Truth, to take my eyes away from Heaven's perspective.

Seriously, I really am not good enough/smart enough/young enough/old enough/talented enough... But I can do "it"-whatever God puts in my path-because God is with me, makes up the difference between my meager portion and what is needed, and gives me his goodness, his understanding, his grace. The question is whose voice I will listen to-my self doubt, or God's confidence?

"I still hear things that aren't true; I just choose not to acknowledge them today."

Carnival: Goodness

2010-03-09T18:07:00.002-05:00

Another blogger carnival. Check out more posts here.

Goodness is....

inhaling deeply the aroma of a sleeping baby.

taking a nap with a snoring dog.

belly laughs.

a good friend who doesn't mind snot on their shoulder while they embrace you and your sobbing.

the first budding bulbs announcing spring really is on its way.

those little hints God leaves to remind you he is near.

the smell of banana bread baking while you catch up with friends.

thousands of voices singing praise, acapella.

unexpected tweets from someone who loves you when you feel alone.

the sound of a gentle rainshower.

a husband who rubs my head when the tylenol won't work.

flip flops with a new pedicure.

bouncy hair after a fresh cut.

wrestling with the dog that loves you too much to bite, but also too much not to nibble on you.

sun that arrives, warming your skin after gloomy days.

loving your spouse more, 18 years later, than the infatuation of engagement.

how God changes lives.

how bottoms are really beginnings in disguise.

being so loved you never have enough time for all the lunch dates, coffee dates, or phone calls that you would like.

that the world is larger and smaller than I imagined as a child.

needing to, being able to, wanting to, and being wanted to, take care of my sick husband.

For all You have given,

For all You have withheld,

For all You have withdrawn,

For all You have permitted,

For all You have prevented,

For all You have forgiven me,

For all You have prepared for me,

For the death You have chosen for me,

For the place you are keeping for me in heaven,
For having created me to love You for eternity,

Thank You God.

You are goodness.

Lessons from Diana's God

2010-03-05T12:31:00.000-05:00

When I began to try to speak to God again, Diana offered her God. That seemed a little odd, and, well, I was a little nervous about it. Would God be offended? What if I was dialing up the wrong one? What if there was no one listening, and I was just talking to myself anyway?

Still, one has to begin somewhere, so I did.

"Um, Diana's God, if you are listening, maybe we could talk? I don't really know who you are and the god I thought I knew wasn't working. I mean, we hadn't talked in a while and, well, I was hoping since you like Diana and she is a woman of faith who trusts you and who I trust, that you might not mind if I tagged along."

And that is how God and I were introduced, not by my faith in a God greater than myself, but my faith in a woman who had a God she claimed was loving and caring, even more than she was to me.

My life has been flipped around a bit in the last week. Ok, more like a major overhaul. My calendar is filled with useless schedule notations that I haven't had the courage to erase. My laundry hangs waiting to be worn, but I have nowhere to go. My sense of who I am has been overwhelmed with one piece of paper, that is actually part truth and part embellishments, but held my fate anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have begun to smoke sometimes, when the anxiety hits my chest and I cannot breath, I suck in the menthol smoke and exhale them both away. Prayer is nominal and consists of mostly, are you still there, followed by, I know but it feels bad. Sleep eludes me until exhaustion hits at 2am. I get to my appoinments without enthusiasm but proud for showing up nonetheless.

I cannot trust what I know. Even as I began to understand with Diana's guidance, what I thought I knew about God was bad information, twisted by self loathing and a fallen world. What I think I know about myself, who I am, is twisted by pain and loss. Altho grateful for the many women God has allowed me to guide over these years, and for the men and women who I look as guides still, I can only sometimes listen to their thoughts of me as a strong, capable, creative, inspiring woman as if they were fairy tales about someone else. I do not recognize that woman as me today. Perhaps I will someday. Or perhaps their perceptions are tainted with love. That's ok, too. Maybe one day soon I will be able to accept it.

Acting as if is sometimes all we can do to get thru the day. And that is ok.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lately as I meditate, the Cross has come to my mind over and over and over but all I see is my guilt, my shame. I see Him pierced because of me, him beaten because of me. I have only begun to ponder the Cross as loving after some bit of music, or speaker, or, really I don't know where it came from and don't need to know, scolded me. That love is almost too much to bear in any given moment.

God's death wasn't about my evil, but about His love. I did not bloody and break his body. He did. He knew I was not going to measure up, so he loved me anyway. Just shatters my thoughts.

And then I think of the million ways I let him down. I am not good enough to be his daughter. I want the world to know what an amazing God he is, but all I can do is mumble. My words are inadequate, my actions clumsy, my temper uncontained, my heart splattered with sin. There is no where else for me tho as I hide in the shadows of him, trying to keep out of the way, unnoticed, but I feel guilty. So inadequate and broken a creature could not serve him. How prideful to think it possible!

If I could, I would do great things for this great God, this Father of mine. But all I can offer is this extravagant desire of a feeble soul.

At His Feet

2010-03-01T22:53:00.000-05:00

From the Cathedral of St John the Divine

Had an awesome time at the Kutless/Casting Crowns concert with my sister, brother in law, and good friend. It was Jenn's Christmas present, but it also meant she had to come to Lancaster to visit which was in a way MY Christmas present.

I tweeted and posted many things that struck me, but this one needed to marinate a bit: What do I need to lay at Jesus' feet?

I have kicked this around over the years and the answers were things like my marriage, my son, my sin, my...

Today, this answer is: my death.

It's not necessarily a morbid idea. I have not been diagnosed with a disease that will take my life, yet. What I mean by my death is that I spend an awful lot of time making sure things go right, preventing bad things, doing my best. I can't catch everything, tho. Bad stuff will get thru. The deaths of my understandings, my knowledge, my hopes, my ambitions, & my desires...these are the death I need to leave at Jesus' feet.

I know God said, “My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts, and my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine (Isaiah 55:8 NLT)," but doesn't it seem like he is confused sometimes? Why does he put obstacles in our path but not tell us to keep pursuing or change direction? Why does he seem to call us to follow him thru what appears to be a door, only to have it slammed in our face? Why does he call us to things that make us feel so awkward and insecure? Why does it feel like he travels with us only to kick us out of the car?

Knowing that things are working out, that my efforts will pay off, gives me a sense of control, but when God is around, there really is no control. (Ok, there is never real control. Sometimes I feel more in control) He is out doing whatever he does and then when we think we have things manageable, he seems to stir things up. 'Course, I don't know if what I was doing was really his idea or mine, so perhaps what I see as him stirring things up is actually a course correction. Wouldn't it be easier if he just told me, tho? I would adjust things. I like God. I am not trying to be devisive or argumentative.

But this is the real problem: I feel out of control. (Yeah, I know, newsflash-you never were in control, Jaime.)

That is why I am laying my death at your feet. I am out of control. I am lost without your direction. All my efforts bring me to nothing if you are not in it. I am already dead. Breathe your life in me.

Love

2010-02-15T23:09:00.000-05:00

Sunday was Valentine's Day, and everyone was talking about their sweetheart, or lack thereof. I have been lucky enough to be married to a handsome and dear man for 19 years now, but it wasn't until we began to learn about God's love that I started to truly appreciate him.

Our marriage was challenging from the beginning. I was young. He was angry. I became bossy. He became angrier. We were set to self-destruct and barely survived, thanks only to our stubbornness. Neither one would leave the house in the possession of the other. I chuckle now when I think of the fights we had trying to force, beg, or cajole the other to leave.

Finally, unable to endure the pain we were inflicting on each other, God got a hold of us. I cannot speak for my husband, but I know I had gotten to a place of helplessness and hopelessness. I didn't know how to leave, but I really didn't know how to stay, either. I had been hurt, but really the worst of it was how much I had hurt him. Our love had become a twisted knot of pain.

Elsewhere I have written about my husband's ultimatum, "We go to church or get a divorce," but having been exposed to church all my life, I was sure God would not or could not help. God always seemed stand-offish. What could he know about this pain? How could he understand how hard love was?

In his letter to the followers of Jesus in Rome, Paul stated, "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

Guess God knew a little.

Love is costly. It is not about what I get but surrendering, even giving when it hurts. Setting my selfish desires aside and opening my mind to the possibility that he might be right, that he might want to love me, that I might be wrong in the way I approached being a wife, that I might have been foolish to write off God, that he might have an idea that might work, that he was hurting as much as I was, that I loved him more than I knew, that he loved me more than I could understand. Sometimes love requires us to go beyond what seems reasonable, to be kinder than I think I have to be, to be gentler than he deserves, to apologize more than I think I should, to tell him how I admire him more often than I want. Love is putting it on the line when the return is questionable. Love is not earned. God's love is given when least deserved but most needed. God loved me when I had done nothing lovable. Why could I not try to love my husband, if for no other reason than that God put him in my life as my husband for a reason?

I am so glad I took that challenge (even tho I thought I would win and that he would find out church people are even more screwed up than we already were and I could smugly roll my eyes at his foolishness). I tell the people who ask how we overcame our challenges, "We have done all sorts of counseling over the years, but Jesus is the BEST marriage counselor!"

And nothing, absolutely nothing, is sexier than my husband talking about God because I know that not only is he caring for me in this life, but he is looking after my eternal soul as well.

My dearest husband-

I love you, and I hope we have many more years to share this love

as we walk in God's love!

Tension and Balance

2010-02-14T11:50:00.000-05:00

I am, left to my own abilities, rather lacking in grace. My mother used to joke that she didn't know why they allowed me to work night shift because I am rather clumsy and awkward. At the chiropractor's, I had to get on one of those balancing board...well, one is supposed to balance on them and develop your core muscle structure and all that good stuff. I fell right off, rather embarrassed. Just not good at balance. But I suspect it is mostly because I am not good with the tension required to balance.

On that silly board, with the bottom rounded, the slightest movement causes a shift to this side which results in an attempt to compensate.

Well, let's just say my attempts to compensate tend to end up as excessive and with my butt on the ground.

And that is not unlike my challenge to resist overcompensating in other areas of my life, outside of the chiropractor's office.

We live in this "already but not yet" place. I am restored, tho not fully. My life is changed, but not completed. I am in process. My soul is a work in progress.

This tension of being in between can be scary. I tell myself I want balance. I want to balance out the craziness with the serene, to find the right measure of work and rest, to be even and at peace. I tell myself that anyway.

I like to know that I am standing on solid ground. I like to know what is coming so I know whether to duck or remain still. I like to be prepared and know what to expect.

In short: I like to be in control.

It is safer. There is security in control. But there isn't much growth or faith or love or grace.

Perhaps that's why things happened, why sin entered the world...

When I think about the trade off for balance-stepping out of the adventure-I am not sure that is really what I want. Even tho I fell off that balancing board, I belly laughed until everyone was laughing in the office. I would rather have the adventure, surrender to the adventure, and laugh at myself than be still in balance.

Community

2010-01-27T10:21:00.000-05:00

I haven't been posting much. Really haven't known what to say. Armchair QB is tired. Blog Carnival has been throwing out difficult words. Happenings in Haiti make me wonder whether Uganda Mission will happen, or should happen. That leaves me with a blog that beckons and nothing to say.

My thoughts have been focused on community lately. For those who are unaware, we left our home church due to distance to try to find a more local community. My husband and kids have succeeded. I continue to struggle. I want them to connect, to be comfortable. And they are. I am having the trouble. I text my community while I am in this church an hour away, because I know they will hear me and because if we were sitting beside each other, a hug, a smile, a quick word, or just watching the other worship is all I need to know that God is among us. Our home church is no longer home, and while that validates the journey, it does not calm the ache. I know my church is where my community is, and often that is every other Tuesday evening. I long for that community in Acts.

While I do not know where I am going, I will continue. One morning I might just find something to write about as well.

What do we see?

2010-01-22T16:31:00.002-05:00

If you have been reading for a little, you know I feel a bit lost. There are no clear sign posts. No big hand in the sky pointing the way. Have you ever prayed and felt like you were just talking to yourself? Or as a dear sister recently put it, "The prayer just bounces off the ceiling?" Worse yet is when God doesn't seem to take notice of some desperate need. What does that mean? Is he not there? Does he just not like me?

During my study this past week, I have been looking at the process of deliverance for the Israelites from Egypt. The first chapter of Exodus talks about the changes in their lives. From being favored due to the wisdom of Joseph, now they were enslaved since Egypt was afraid that the family had grown too numerous. They could become a threat, maybe lead a revolt. The Pharaoh even had the baby boys killed to control the population. It was not a pleasant or safe time to be a descendant of Jacob.

But the writer of Exodus says God heard their cries. He was moved. Did he strike down Pharaoh or rearrange the political structure or pick up his tribe and move them? No. He called a man, Moses, to lead the rescue, to relay the words of God. Why would such a powerful God, if he is indeed powerful, want instead to use a man?

Moses probably wondered the same thing but, after losing the argument that he isn't the right man for the job, goes to Pharoah with his brother Aaron. He tells the Egyptian king what God wants him to say and they all live happily ever after, right?

No, or Exodus would be a much shorter book.

Things get worse. The Israelites think Moses is a jerk for making their lives even harder, Moses thinks God has screwed up in sending him and it looks like the whole rescue is in jeopardy. God doesn't let Moses off the hook. Over and over he had to stand up to Pharaoh. God didn't do some pixie magic here. He takes his time. He admits to "hardening Pharaoh's heart" so that "miraculous signs and wonders" can happen.

Bet the slaves loved that, huh?

Still, who was God trying to show off for? It would seem the Egyptians so that they get scared enough and send their slaves out of their land with some gold bracelets and supplies. Maybe he is also showing the Israelites his power because they have a long journey ahead of them. Maybe they needed to have seen God at work so that they have something to hold onto.

Reading thru this process of deliverance from so long ago brought to mind the current situation in Haiti.

The Haitian people have endured 2 large quakes now. Poor to begin with, they struggled to survive, but now even what little they had is gone. The death toll rises. No help is in sight. Riots and bandits break out as hopelessness sets in.

But cut off as they were from the world during the disaster, they did not know the prayers prayed, the money and supplies donated, the medical personnel being gathered via Twitter, the military hospital ship Comfort is coming.

We can see the rescue coming because of our perspective in this drama. But when WE are the ones in need, our vision is again obscured. Surely most of us have not been in the situation of the Haiti, but we have needed to be heard by God, in our grief, in our uncertainty, in our fear. How many times we felt like perhaps he did not hear. Perhaps he did not care.

Perhaps his help is on the way. Perhaps instead of his plucking you out of your situation, he opens an opportunity for you to step into. Perhaps instead of changing the government, he gives you a chance to serve.

At least I can see things a little differently today.

Gracious Uncertainty

2010-01-17T07:40:00.000-05:00

My guest blogger today is Oswald Chambers, with an excerpt from My Utmost for His Highest.

Our natural inclination is to be so precise— trying always to forecast accurately what will happen next— that we look upon uncertainty as a bad thing. We think that we must reach some predetermined goal, but that is not the nature of the spiritual life. The nature of the spiritual life is that we are certain in our uncertainty. Consequently, we do not put down roots. Our common sense says, "Well, what if I were in that circumstance?" We cannot presume to see ourselves in any circumstance in which we have never been.

Certainty is the mark of the commonsense life— gracious uncertainty is the mark of the spiritual life. To be certain of God means that we are uncertain in all our ways, not knowing what tomorrow may bring. This is generally expressed with a sigh of sadness, but it should be an expression of breathless expectation. We are uncertain of the next step, but we are certain of God. As soon as we abandon ourselves to God and do the task He has placed closest to us, He begins to fill our lives with surprises. When we become simply a promoter or a defender of a particular belief, something within us dies. That is not believing God — it is only believing our belief about Him. Jesus said, ". . . unless you . . . become as little children . . ." (Matthew 18:3 ). The spiritual life is the life of a child. We are not uncertain of God, just uncertain of what He is going to do next. If our certainty is only in our beliefs, we develop a sense of self-righteousness, become overly critical, and are limited by the view that our beliefs are complete and settled. But when we have the right relationship with God, life is full of spontaneous, joyful uncertainty and expectancy. Jesus said, ". . . believe also in Me" (John 14:1 ), not, "Believe certain things about Me". Leave everything to Him and it will be gloriously and graciously uncertain how He will come in— but you can be certain that He will come. Remain faithful to Him.

Uganda

2010-01-16T15:41:00.000-05:00

Another one of those Crowned Cranes

76% of the population of the country lives slightly below the international poverty line of US $2.00 a day (statistics from the Human Development Indices)

The life expectancy at birth in 2004 was 48 for men and 51 for women according to the World Health Organization.

Confessional

2010-01-14T12:15:00.000-05:00

I have been struggling with something lately. Gnawing on something lately.

I am thinking...beginning to wonder...if I have not limited him, not made him impotent, this Star Breather, this Word of Life. The words, my cerebral beliefs, are less real when I do not live in that power.

It's still difficult to put into words, to process what is forming. I just know that I am more than willing to give God the credit, but I do not expect Him to do the work. I know He put things into motion, but then I thank him politely with an, "I'll take it from here now."

Perhaps giving him the credit is partly about being able to blame him when things don't happen, altho I don't do that. Can I, should I, take any credit? Should I take more of the blame?

What would living in his power, at his mercy, in his mercy look like?

Do I not already thank him when I wake up in the morning still able to gulp air into my lungs? But what about midday when things are spiraling out of control and tempers flare? Who bears this responsibility? I always take it. I hear the accusations, "You suck," whispered in my ear. But can God change that? Can he redeem that also? The anger, the chaos, the frustrations?

Can he heal? Not just in a life after, not just in some odd healing service where the "sickness" is removed in a bloody mess of "spiritual surgery." Can he heal the heart from neglect, abandonment, abuse? Really heal? As tho there was no injury? And if he can, why do we pay so much to therapists or religiously meet at the church of Oprah or Dr. Phil?

Lots of us seek the diet that will finally work to make us happy, our best life now, our healthiest self. We want to have a modest (read comfortable for Americans) lifestyle, security in our savings accounts, education to impress, obedient children and healthy, young bodies (even in our later years).

I think those priorities are stupid. (Yes, I know I am not opinionated.) I would like to find routine, peace, enough, shalom. I agree that my "heart is restless until it finds its rest in You (as stated by St. Augustine)," but shouldn't I be a little more restful? Do I not know the Spring from where this peace come?

Perhaps I just do not know how to drink this peace. Perhaps I am simply a coward. To surrender the things I do not like is easy. To surrender things I like about myself, my life or the dreams I have or things I want to achieve or even things I think GOD wants me to achieve, is painful, frightening, and a dying.

Can he just release me from the tendency to be so critical of myself which spills over onto how I see others? Can he teach me to love myself? Can he help me trust him more?

Maybe the question is whether I will let him.

The In-Between

2010-01-06T14:45:00.003-05:00

In her dimly lit room she rested in the wrinkled hospital bed that seemed to swallow her pale, thin frame. Her mood was somber as she considered the doctor's words giving her the treatment options to delay and dodge the inevitable prize that cancer had claimed. "We can continue," he offered when she stopped him.

"What's the use really? Who is that for?" She continued bravely, piercing the darkness before her, "I have my faith, and it is not the end that bothers me. It is the in-between that stinks."

Listening in while I waited to care for her, tears arrived, unwelcome, but not unfamiliar.

The In-Between does stink.

At Christmas, I think about the hundreds of years without a peep from God when the people waited for a Messiah, for relief, for hope. In our small group last night we talked about Egypt where the Hebrews were ruthlessly enslaved to control them, while they waited between the history of a man called Joseph and God's next thing.

The in-between are times of uncertainty. The fog rolls in thick, disorienting us to our path as the enemy snickers. The whimpering of loss is hard to ignore. Not that long ago, our path had been clear and even. The light was bright, and no fear intruded on the day. Now, we start one way and pause, second guessing ourselves. Sometimes even second guessing God. "Why?" we wonder, sometimes softly, other times screaming the word from the pit of our churning bellies.

We whisper prayers that God will come to us again, that we will not wander alone for too long. And, when we realize no one is coming right now, we pick ourselves up and begin again, setting the confusion and unknowing aside for a time.

Armchair QB

2010-01-04T00:18:00.005-05:00

May God bless you with discomfort at
easy answers, half truths, and

superficial relationships
so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression
and exploitation of people
so that you may work for justice,
freedom and peace.

May God bless you with tears to shed
for those who suffer pain, rejection,

hunger and war so that you may reach out your hand

to comfort them
and to turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless you with
enough foolishness
to believe

that you can make a difference in the world

so that you can do
what others claim cannot be done

to bring justice and kindness
to all our children and the poor.

A Franciscan Benediction

Family went to visit with the Victorious people Sunday. We have not settled on a church, but Victory is definitely comfortable enough to rest at as we continue this journey. And truthfully, the message seems to keep pace with where the blog has been going lately....goals, priorities, dreams, burdens.

A blessed life isn't one in which you have everything you want. That would be called the self centered life. A blessed life is one which has been given purpose, a burden.

A burden is when I am bothered by something, divinely unsettled, because it bothers God's heart.

Of course, there are wrong ways to deal with this burden and one of those ways is to complain about it. If you have enough of a burden to complain about something, you need to realize that not everyone sees the same problem. God did not give us all the same burden. As PC said, "If you are rowing the boat, you ain't got time to rock it."

What's your priority?

2010-01-02T20:36:00.001-05:00

I have been hiding lately. While watching mind-numbing TV as I crochet or fold laundry, I have found myself needing to hide from these ASPCA or ORCA commercials that show pathetic, thin, neglected animals with some music meant to stir the emotions.

I am an animal lover. I have plenty of them. But what disturbs me are the nagging questions...

Should I give my $20 bucks a month to sponsor a dog in need, or a child in another country? Are animals, typically brought into the world without homes and people who care for them and then used by humans in many despicable manners from puppy mills to dog fighting, more needy than a child in poverty? What about the children, not the women but the little girls, who are sold into sex trafficking? What about the child soldier who belongs to no one now? What about the elderly being warehoused in a nursing facility? If we respect life, really, shouldn't that mean that we respect all life? And, do we really respect life?

What makes someone valuable? What they can do for me? How well they function in my life or in their own life?

Not sure it is as simple as I care for people and you care for animals and that dude over there cares for the environment....but I must care, and be careful. Hearts hurt. Bones break. Bellies rumble. Hopeless stench of garbage and death suffocates.

I have the opportunity to care, to make a difference. Perhaps, it might not be too strong to say that I have an

OBLIGATION?

"They also will answer,

'Lord,

when did we see you hungry

or thirsty

or a stranger

or needing clothes

or sick

or in prison,

and did not help you?'

"He will reply,
'I tell you the TRUTH,
whatever you did not do
for one of the least of these,
you did not do for me.'
(Matthew 25:44-45 NIV)

New Year's Resolutions?

2010-01-01T22:59:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year to all my blog buddies!

Most years I resolve NOT to have New Year's Resolutions. Doesn't seem right to set myself up for failure, but out of my rebellious, adventurous spirit, this year I am making some resolutions...to count.

1) I want to count my blessings more than my frustrations, even if I hear the frustrations rise up first.

2) I want to count points/calories to become a wee bit healthier.

3) I want to count steps, mostly baby steps, as I attempt to exercise into a wee bit healthier self. Not up to a running club yet. Maybe next year, Janet.

4) I also want to be daring and try things that make those moments, that make life count. Like those weird pickle wrapped things that Valerie makes. Wouldn't have been New Years if they weren't there. And going to Uganda. And getting started on that writing project that is taking shape in the back of my brain.

Ok, altho I want things to "count," I am not going to do this huge, crazy list. I am not disciplined enough to be that resolute. But wouldn't it be really amazing to know that your life counted? That you just weren't existing until you weren't any longer but that you were really making a difference, a dent in this world? That is the life I want to have, even if it starts by just counting a few things this year.

Any resolutions you are making this year?

Daddy

2009-12-31T10:50:00.001-05:00

Ok, so I know I wrote my Armchair QB on the sermon notes, but there was another sermon in that gathering that spoke even louder to me, and continues to resonate with me as the week passes.

The worship leader, Chris, nearly apologized for the many familiar songs that the band was playing because their rehearsal had gotten snowed out. In introducing the next set, he explained it was an older song, but he just had to play it because his daughter requested is and how could he not give her this simple thing.

Did you hear the sermon?

It still takes me to this quiet moment. If an earthly dad will play his daughter a song (or give her something good to eat and not a stone...), how much more might God want to give to his children? Do we dare ask? Or do we hold back?

Too often I pray to a nebulous, impersonal god. It's not that I don't know God, but I allow stuff to get in the way. I get all tangled up in the expectations I have for myself, the disappointments and guilt that come from that, and I project those feelings on to the way God must view me. I get tripped up by the world's interpretation of me and my needs and of God himself.

I forget that Jesus taught us to call him Daddy.

I admit, I do not have a great relationship with my earthly father. Perhaps it will be this way until Jesus helps us mend things. Sometimes I wonder if it doesn't play a part in me being uncertain of God as my Father, but as I watch my son with his daughter, my friends with their children, I recapture a sense of Daddy. When this worship leader said he could not refuse his daughter, I began to cry, because I know God wants me to seek him like that, but I haven't been lately.

I had enough of being sad and powerless and afraid, so I started to distance and make decisions and calculate and plan. Notice how I went from feeling to action? What might happen if your daughter brought to you her sadness, her fear, her sense of the world spinning out of control? Would you tell her to fix it herself? Of course not! Yet, that is exactly the response I seem to expect from my Daddy.

Jesus told us that God's creation is cared for by him, that there is a rhythm to the creation-a shalom, that God knows what we need, that we can trust him to care for us in the same way the birds do. Such simple, peaceful thoughts in such a confusing, complex time. It is hard to hear them. Even harder to trust them.

Just for today, I will remember to call you Daddy...

The Reason for the Season

2009-12-29T06:20:00.000-05:00

This post is participating in today's blog carnival on the word LOVE. To read other posts, click here.

As all my friends texted holiday wishes this Christmas, one stood out. This one seemed to go against all the "Keep Christ in Christmas" and "Jesus is the reason for the season" bumper stickers.

This text said simply, U r the reason 4 the season.

At first I thought she wrote it incorrectly, so I read it again looking for the typo. But, there wasn't one.

That's when it hit me: without me, there wouldn't be a need for Christmas.

Ok, so that sounds somewhat egocentric, but hang in there with me. God is this crazy amazing being made of love. It is out of that crazy, amazing love that he chose to step into flesh, to show us that God does love us and that he didn't abandon us to the evil that surrounds us, to bring us back to this relationship. God, the first and greatest lover, pursues us, rescues us. Of course not because we deserve it. If we do things only to those who deserve it, we are not doing things out of love. Love is reckless and wasteful and best when done without reason. Without the object of his divine love, he would need not have needed to be born in that smelly stable cave. He would not have needed to know hunger, cold, pain, grief, fear. He would not have needed to suffer.

But he did all those things for me...for you. We are the reason for the season. Thank you, Jesus.

Ugandan Mission

2009-12-28T10:55:00.001-05:00

This bird is an African Crowned Crane. It is the official bird of Uganda, on their flag and coat of arms, and the perfect picture to grace my posts about Uganda. But, I get ahead of myself.

A dear friend has a daughter who wants to be a missionary nurse, and has for quite sometime altho she is only in high school. I suppose we connected because I had wanted to be a missionary since Sunday school and the Lottie Moon offerings for overseas missionaries. It wasn't until a college class recently that I found out Lottie Moon was a woman, however. Somewhere between my own spiritual awakening and my friend's daughter's dreams, my own dreams have been rediscovered, this time with opportunity.

A group from church will be going to Uganda, inspired in part by Amazima. I, too, have been touched by Katie's story, but I find this opportunity both intriguing and daunting. To be able to serve with someone whose faith is so strong and special like Katie's would be an honor. To travel around the world to serve in a medical mission would be fulfilment of a dream and quite an adventure. And yet, both of these things also bring up the deepest self doubts. What is my weak faith next to Katie's? What have I ever done? Why do I think I have anything to offer people around the world? I can barely serve the community around me. And then, the money...the money I would need to raise. It could sponsor a single child for many years or many children a couple years. Is it really responsible to spend it for a couple days in their country?

I don't know the answers to these things. I do know, that altho I have set this idea of going to Uganda on the shelf, it seems to keep falling off the shelf. I know that as I have sought the wisdom of others, they take the idea off the shelf and hand it back to me. So, I guess I will see what God wants to do now. I have some ideas for raising money. I have had some offers from others to help me. As I have done in other areas of my life when I know I cannot do it but maybe God can, if he wants to, I will just take steps to move in this direction.

And, most of all, I will pray. Please pray with me about this, dear friends.