The current breaks under the line of sight
The undertow pulling us left and right
As the waves crash on to the shore
Our laboring breaths are almost no more
So I stop
Stand up and walk away
I will not drown
But neither will I swim
Instead I will just say, "No, wait!"
Not moving forward, nor falling back
Neither growing, nor withering cold
These waters are too deep for me
So I sail to a more shallow end
I put a cap on all these fears
To prevent the sinking of this ship
I burn the flags of yesteryear
No identity can yet be found
Yet the waters call, like sirens of old
A beckoning too deep to be ignored
To dive may mean my death
But was this living a life anymore?
So I stop
Stand up and jump in
I will not drown
But neither will I swim
Instead I will just stay, in this waters and wait
Wading in this deep
Knowing the ground's beyond my reach
Stead-fasting in the cold
My King calls me to let go of it all
Falling into the waters below
It's darkness is light
The depth's weight like air
As breathe fills my lungs I know
You're breaking me apart
The waters pull away my scales
Filling up the aches, the caverns of pain
Each crevasse of my soul is satisfied
For only You could make me, "me"
Moments or millenias I will never know
The waters depth was untold
Living, breathing Spirit overtaking it all
This was the deep the ancients all told
As the waves break against the shore
My body laid bare in the sand
I arise a new soul, a new man
As one who has been made whole
The waters flow in my veins
No longer the fears, the lies, the pains
Instead Truth is a person, holding my hand
And I can live again
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Disappointed
I think I blinked a bit too long, as this fall has flown by. Days melt into weeks before I can even realize I am behind in life. There have been breakdowns, tears, screams, laughter, successes, progress, and realizations - all of which have beckoned me to move forward.
To do that, I have a few confessions to make.
I am disappointed
I don't know about you, but as a child I constantly played pretend to be older. Whether it be "house", "college" or "work" my sister Lizy, and I (along with a few playmates) would be rock stars, popular college students, successful housewives, disobedient runaways, or adventurous orphans. I often dreamt of growing up, but in a fantastical way. Much like I dreamt about being in the Lord of the Rings, or a strong warrior out of the 15th century, I dreamt of being an adult going to the mission field living among the people of Kenya never to see the paved streets of America again. But I never thought I'd actually grow up. It was a dream, a fantasy - not a reality. Being raised in the 90's Christian sub-culture of Jesus' soon return, combined with fictional tales of being Left Behind, I was well aware that any moment everything could change and I'd be in heaven. As a tween college seemed ridiculous, why would I postpone my calling for a futile education? Then as I grew up I knew I'd have to make decisions, start putting one foot in front of the other to actually be anything.
I remember the first time I did something. I was all talk, until I chose to pursue my call. I had found out about a youth leadership conference up in Denver (a 8 hour drive) and asked my parents if I could go. My grandparents had family near there so we drove up and stayed with my Grandmother's sister for two days. I remember driving through the bustling streets of Denver going to the northern part of the city, my music playing - realizing I was going forward in my call. I had always been told I was a leader, and I wanted to get my feet wet. I was full of butterflies as I pulled into the parking lot of an unfamiliar church, seeing peers (my least favorite age group) and knowing I knew no one. But I went, and while I don't remember a lot of that weekend - it was that moment that defined every other moment for me, I could go and be what I wanted to be.
Fast forward a year, and I'm heavily involved with church - the church mouse actually. When the doors were open, I was there. I was working at a local coffee shop, graduating from highschool, and had traveled internationally the year before - I was a pretty confident 16/17 year old. My family had gone to the International House of Prayer Conference in Kansas City over the new year, and I had felt a strong desire to participate in their Fire in the Night internship. I talked with the directors while being there, and they said that 17 would be fine, as long as I had a note from my parents and had graduated. So I did what any responsible ministry member would do - I began to prepare others to take my place. There was a young lady who had wanted to sing on Sunday's and I spent time with her and encouraged her to join, soon I wouldn't be singing on Sunday mornings. My involvement in tech, sound, kids ministry, and janitorial work was soon covered. I was ready to go to IHOP. Then came my first rejection - they had changed the policy shortly after the new year and I would have to wait till I was 18. I had finally made another step forward, pursuing all I thought I was to be, and yet a door was shut, slammed firmly in my face. In the pain I quickly picked myself up, and tried to go back to where I was.
I don't know how to articulate the weight of what happened next, because I know it sounds petty on paper - but the gut punch I still feel reminds me it wasn't petty. I had stepped down from the worship team for a month or so (maybe a bit longer) and our church was in a lot of transition - moving towards the arts, and musical excellence. After the plan changed, I approached my dear friend and co-worship leader, she and the pastor said I would have to audition if I wanted to rejoin the worship team. In that simple sentence, to which I know they had no idea the weight of, the wind was gone from my sails and I stood lost in the seas of pain. All the questions of self worth, all the doubts of my abilities, all my anger towards the church was now validated. See I had had a painful cut in another church a few yyears prior as a 13 year old, and it caused me to doubt the Holy Spirit's participation in our lives. Now the church that had given me my counselor, my first voice, the prayer partners, the mentors, my first boyfriend, my ability to be me - had kicked me out without a second thought.
It was here I met and fell in love with my now husband of almost six years. In the midst of the church's rejection I gave morality a middle finger, and said "I will be who I am, regardless of what you say". I told my now father-in-law (a pastor nonetheless) that I had no intention of marrying his son, and that we were just going to date for fun and they'd have to be okay with that. I was tired of being told who I was, so I formed who I wanted to be. I was strong, spiritually on fire (though certainly broken) and horribly emotionally vulnerable. The non-marrying thing only last a few weeks, before I looked at Phil in the fall and gave him my heart in a bracelet.
It was my World Vision bracelet that I had had since the IHOP conference back in January, it signified my calling to missions and my relentless commitment to it. I had been dating someone else a year ago, but because of their lack of similar calling, our relationship ended. I knew that if I was to be with someone, they had to be sold out to the same vision of missions as I, or no amount of love would be worth the heartache. Phil took that bracelet, and wore it for another two years - even in our "I do's" he wore it. It stayed on until it broke off his wrist while living in Israel for a few months together.
In the moment of pain, in the crushing weight of questioning everything I made an impulsive decision to marry, to grow up, to stop waiting for the world to happen. Wow, how did life happen! Within a 18 months of getting married we had live in two countries, two states, four cities, moved three times, had all our possessions stolen while living overseas, moved hundred of miles away from our family, finished our first semester of college, and had our daughter. I think we calculated that that first year almost 25% of our nights were spent in a hotel, with another 35% being spent in homes other than our own. At 19 and a few months, I was a mom, a student, a wife, an employee and completely lost. The plans I had, that pushed me forward for over a decade had not shaped out and in the midst of postpartum, I doubted I could even love the child of my womb.
Fast forward a few years, and I am here about to graduate with my Masters in Business Administration, my husband half way through his masters in Christian Discipleship, our daughter about to turn five and still living in the same town as five years ago. At the beginning of this year we started to get involved with a new church, and I fell instantly in love. During the season of Lent, I literally fell head over heels in love with the pastors, the people, the building, the sermons, and even with God, at least a bit. These last ten months have been a whirlwind, God breathing His life back into these dry bones, the Spirit challenging me to live again.
After one of my many recent breakdowns of tears, and anger, I fell into a passive and hurt silence. It was then my beloved husband began to chip away at it, and saw the cause - I felt wholly, entirely disappointed by God. The King of the Universe, the Spirit of Life, the Prince of Peace had let me down and I sat there with anger in my heart towards Him. I had put my value, my worth in all that I did. Now after 15 years of working hard, moving forward, pushing to be more, dying to myself, trying to grow up before my time - I had my list of accomplishments, my certificate of worth and God was silent.
How dare He not speak?!
How after all these years of striving, of proving my best, of never settling, would He not speak?
While the story of Martha is lined throughout this story, best not belittle someone's pain through pointing out its cliche. I always wanted to be Mary, but God never set the place for me to be. As a teen I looked longingly at those who 'sat' at the feet of Jesus. But someone had to feed the disciples, someone had to care for families, work to provide a shelter - someone had to be the Martha and so I took up my cross and did. All the while looking longingly at the Marys all around me - a bit jealous and mostly hurt that that was not what I was meant to be. Thus in my first confessions of these changing seasons I need to say I have felt desperately disappointed by God, and I have found my value, my worth in all that I have done.
Selah.
To do that, I have a few confessions to make.
I am disappointed
I don't know about you, but as a child I constantly played pretend to be older. Whether it be "house", "college" or "work" my sister Lizy, and I (along with a few playmates) would be rock stars, popular college students, successful housewives, disobedient runaways, or adventurous orphans. I often dreamt of growing up, but in a fantastical way. Much like I dreamt about being in the Lord of the Rings, or a strong warrior out of the 15th century, I dreamt of being an adult going to the mission field living among the people of Kenya never to see the paved streets of America again. But I never thought I'd actually grow up. It was a dream, a fantasy - not a reality. Being raised in the 90's Christian sub-culture of Jesus' soon return, combined with fictional tales of being Left Behind, I was well aware that any moment everything could change and I'd be in heaven. As a tween college seemed ridiculous, why would I postpone my calling for a futile education? Then as I grew up I knew I'd have to make decisions, start putting one foot in front of the other to actually be anything.
I remember the first time I did something. I was all talk, until I chose to pursue my call. I had found out about a youth leadership conference up in Denver (a 8 hour drive) and asked my parents if I could go. My grandparents had family near there so we drove up and stayed with my Grandmother's sister for two days. I remember driving through the bustling streets of Denver going to the northern part of the city, my music playing - realizing I was going forward in my call. I had always been told I was a leader, and I wanted to get my feet wet. I was full of butterflies as I pulled into the parking lot of an unfamiliar church, seeing peers (my least favorite age group) and knowing I knew no one. But I went, and while I don't remember a lot of that weekend - it was that moment that defined every other moment for me, I could go and be what I wanted to be.
Fast forward a year, and I'm heavily involved with church - the church mouse actually. When the doors were open, I was there. I was working at a local coffee shop, graduating from highschool, and had traveled internationally the year before - I was a pretty confident 16/17 year old. My family had gone to the International House of Prayer Conference in Kansas City over the new year, and I had felt a strong desire to participate in their Fire in the Night internship. I talked with the directors while being there, and they said that 17 would be fine, as long as I had a note from my parents and had graduated. So I did what any responsible ministry member would do - I began to prepare others to take my place. There was a young lady who had wanted to sing on Sunday's and I spent time with her and encouraged her to join, soon I wouldn't be singing on Sunday mornings. My involvement in tech, sound, kids ministry, and janitorial work was soon covered. I was ready to go to IHOP. Then came my first rejection - they had changed the policy shortly after the new year and I would have to wait till I was 18. I had finally made another step forward, pursuing all I thought I was to be, and yet a door was shut, slammed firmly in my face. In the pain I quickly picked myself up, and tried to go back to where I was.
I don't know how to articulate the weight of what happened next, because I know it sounds petty on paper - but the gut punch I still feel reminds me it wasn't petty. I had stepped down from the worship team for a month or so (maybe a bit longer) and our church was in a lot of transition - moving towards the arts, and musical excellence. After the plan changed, I approached my dear friend and co-worship leader, she and the pastor said I would have to audition if I wanted to rejoin the worship team. In that simple sentence, to which I know they had no idea the weight of, the wind was gone from my sails and I stood lost in the seas of pain. All the questions of self worth, all the doubts of my abilities, all my anger towards the church was now validated. See I had had a painful cut in another church a few yyears prior as a 13 year old, and it caused me to doubt the Holy Spirit's participation in our lives. Now the church that had given me my counselor, my first voice, the prayer partners, the mentors, my first boyfriend, my ability to be me - had kicked me out without a second thought.
It was here I met and fell in love with my now husband of almost six years. In the midst of the church's rejection I gave morality a middle finger, and said "I will be who I am, regardless of what you say". I told my now father-in-law (a pastor nonetheless) that I had no intention of marrying his son, and that we were just going to date for fun and they'd have to be okay with that. I was tired of being told who I was, so I formed who I wanted to be. I was strong, spiritually on fire (though certainly broken) and horribly emotionally vulnerable. The non-marrying thing only last a few weeks, before I looked at Phil in the fall and gave him my heart in a bracelet.
It was my World Vision bracelet that I had had since the IHOP conference back in January, it signified my calling to missions and my relentless commitment to it. I had been dating someone else a year ago, but because of their lack of similar calling, our relationship ended. I knew that if I was to be with someone, they had to be sold out to the same vision of missions as I, or no amount of love would be worth the heartache. Phil took that bracelet, and wore it for another two years - even in our "I do's" he wore it. It stayed on until it broke off his wrist while living in Israel for a few months together.
In the moment of pain, in the crushing weight of questioning everything I made an impulsive decision to marry, to grow up, to stop waiting for the world to happen. Wow, how did life happen! Within a 18 months of getting married we had live in two countries, two states, four cities, moved three times, had all our possessions stolen while living overseas, moved hundred of miles away from our family, finished our first semester of college, and had our daughter. I think we calculated that that first year almost 25% of our nights were spent in a hotel, with another 35% being spent in homes other than our own. At 19 and a few months, I was a mom, a student, a wife, an employee and completely lost. The plans I had, that pushed me forward for over a decade had not shaped out and in the midst of postpartum, I doubted I could even love the child of my womb.
Fast forward a few years, and I am here about to graduate with my Masters in Business Administration, my husband half way through his masters in Christian Discipleship, our daughter about to turn five and still living in the same town as five years ago. At the beginning of this year we started to get involved with a new church, and I fell instantly in love. During the season of Lent, I literally fell head over heels in love with the pastors, the people, the building, the sermons, and even with God, at least a bit. These last ten months have been a whirlwind, God breathing His life back into these dry bones, the Spirit challenging me to live again.
After one of my many recent breakdowns of tears, and anger, I fell into a passive and hurt silence. It was then my beloved husband began to chip away at it, and saw the cause - I felt wholly, entirely disappointed by God. The King of the Universe, the Spirit of Life, the Prince of Peace had let me down and I sat there with anger in my heart towards Him. I had put my value, my worth in all that I did. Now after 15 years of working hard, moving forward, pushing to be more, dying to myself, trying to grow up before my time - I had my list of accomplishments, my certificate of worth and God was silent.
How dare He not speak?!
How after all these years of striving, of proving my best, of never settling, would He not speak?
While the story of Martha is lined throughout this story, best not belittle someone's pain through pointing out its cliche. I always wanted to be Mary, but God never set the place for me to be. As a teen I looked longingly at those who 'sat' at the feet of Jesus. But someone had to feed the disciples, someone had to care for families, work to provide a shelter - someone had to be the Martha and so I took up my cross and did. All the while looking longingly at the Marys all around me - a bit jealous and mostly hurt that that was not what I was meant to be. Thus in my first confessions of these changing seasons I need to say I have felt desperately disappointed by God, and I have found my value, my worth in all that I have done.
Selah.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
A Skeptic's Prayer
Tonight I attended a night of renewal at my local church. After a week where I became lethargic and complacent, I doubted God's attendance in my heart this evening. While I struggled to engage in worship, I decided to engage in a lost love, reading the Bible and journaling while soaking in worship. This is the order of events for my evening, and at the end reflection it seemed the God brought me on a journey that I wasn't aware of in the moment.
_________________________________
Prayer
I the Skeptic, doubts
I the Romantic, hopes
I breathe in with anticipation
I wince in my hesitation
Silence
Is not Your absence loud?
Noise
Is not Your whisper seen?
So I relieve my heart
Letting go of my agenda
Cautious but with faith
Baggage at the door
Let me hear You more
_______________________________
Lessons from 2 Peter 3 - an emotional reflection with little context.
Remember
With sincerity and weight remember the Words from long ago
Oh God, time is not of Your concern
Yet within time You act
Your patience is our salvation
Though often the source of our frustration
And so we wait
proactively acting towards You
____________________________________
Longing and Doubt
Our mouths dry, longing for Your water
Full and ready to burst we long
Will our hopes be dashed upon the rocks of derision?
Yet...
Yet...
And yet.....
______________________________________
Confession
Am I the fool, the arrogant minion acting against their Lord, perhaps unwittingly?
Consumed in the world of myself?!
So Speak!
Do we hear You?
Or are our thoughts too loud?
Prayers for the other causing Selah.
____________________________________
Trepidation and Celebration
Let Your love rush into this room
Flooding this home like a mighty wind
COME
And she came, and heaven broke forth speaking
"We now rejoice!"
The Father's voice of love echoing through the celebration,
"Welcome home my little one. You truly are home."
"To you my laborer, let your heart rest. For I have met you, and I do not fail, nor do I leave you unsatisfied.
I have made the difference."
__________________________________
Reflection
Remember the height from which you have fallen. Oh Ephesus you have been running in your busy, and in your hard work. Remember! The early days, your first love! Repent! Return to the things you first did, when you first drew near to Me. Work out with Me your salvation. How did you engage with Me long ago? What captivated you? Go back, and do those things.
_________________________________
Prayer
I the Skeptic, doubts
I the Romantic, hopes
I breathe in with anticipation
I wince in my hesitation
Silence
Is not Your absence loud?
Noise
Is not Your whisper seen?
So I relieve my heart
Letting go of my agenda
Cautious but with faith
Baggage at the door
Let me hear You more
_______________________________
Lessons from 2 Peter 3 - an emotional reflection with little context.
Remember
With sincerity and weight remember the Words from long ago
Oh God, time is not of Your concern
Yet within time You act
Your patience is our salvation
Though often the source of our frustration
And so we wait
proactively acting towards You
____________________________________
Longing and Doubt
Our mouths dry, longing for Your water
Full and ready to burst we long
Will our hopes be dashed upon the rocks of derision?
Yet...
Yet...
And yet.....
______________________________________
Confession
Am I the fool, the arrogant minion acting against their Lord, perhaps unwittingly?
Consumed in the world of myself?!
So Speak!
Do we hear You?
Or are our thoughts too loud?
Prayers for the other causing Selah.
____________________________________
Trepidation and Celebration
Let Your love rush into this room
Flooding this home like a mighty wind
COME
And she came, and heaven broke forth speaking
"We now rejoice!"
The Father's voice of love echoing through the celebration,
"Welcome home my little one. You truly are home."
"To you my laborer, let your heart rest. For I have met you, and I do not fail, nor do I leave you unsatisfied.
I have made the difference."
__________________________________
Reflection
Remember the height from which you have fallen. Oh Ephesus you have been running in your busy, and in your hard work. Remember! The early days, your first love! Repent! Return to the things you first did, when you first drew near to Me. Work out with Me your salvation. How did you engage with Me long ago? What captivated you? Go back, and do those things.
Monday, October 7, 2013
Belonging to Truth
My pastor once said he trusts himself more in the dark times than when he is happy. I have meditated on that concept a lot since he mentioned it - and I found my conclusion. I don't trust myself at any point - not during the high, or following the low. The concept of the heart being desperately wicked and no one knowing it resounds in this reflection.
And yet....
I have read through the Bible a few times - being raised in a Christian home offered opportunity and desire to do so. Yet there is a passage at the end of 1 John 3 that I never noticed before.
19 This is how we know that we belong to the truth and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence: 20 If our hearts condemn us, we know that God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything. 21 Dear friends, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have confidence before God 22 and receive from him anything we ask, because we keep his commands and do what pleases him.
I rarely feel my heart at rest. There have been seasons where my heart is not quite as erratic, yet peace is a rare phenomenon. And yet, I am encouraged by the power in these verses.
Belonging to the truth does not mean my heart is at rest in His presence. If my heart is going a million different directions in the midst of worship I am not far from Him, though my heart condemns me as such. The truth is found in knowing the God is greater than my heart. When I am running back and forth, getting hurt my the lack of information shared, feeling rejected or out of the loop - He is not. I know it may seem simple - of course God is not lacking, but in the heat of the moment when your heart is heavy we tend to project our weaknesses onto the Creator.
My heart condemning me is not a reflection of my salvation. I was that young girl who prayed every sinner's prayer just to be certain - as my heart would condemn me almost daily. I was baptized many times for the same reason. I have fallen back into sin, as my heart showed me as already defeated and condemned so I might as well get the perks of sin. I often associated my hearts condemnation with the Spirit's. I am the child who tries to fix everything before asking for help. I want to make my heart right, before I commune with the Father. Yet this verse reminds me that there are times, and they may be often, where my heart will not rest in His presence and the worse thing I can do is assume that that is God.
I am often led by my heart, emotions defining truth, circumstances forming who I am. God is greater than my heart, and in that He knows everything. When my heart feels ambiguous and I can't figure out why I am in turmoil - I don't need to figure it out before coming to Jesus' feet. Rather I will find my rest in giving my heart to Him, letting Him lay aside the ambiguity and letting Him speak the truth of the situation not just my emotion in the moment.
This verse lines up with the song that has been playing over and over in my heart the last few weeks. The last couple of months of been incredibly stretching, in new and unfamiliar ways. The rocks of life have been turned into sand, and path has seemingly disappeared - forcing me to just be here. Being is hard, and the most uncomfortable thing I have experienced - yet is in the being God is able to speak. I can be, exposing my most intimate self if I have the promise of being known in the process.
The last line of this song says - 'you memorize me'. God knows our hearts, even if we don't - and we can enter into His rest when we allow that truth to speak louder than the condemnation we hear.
And yet....
I have read through the Bible a few times - being raised in a Christian home offered opportunity and desire to do so. Yet there is a passage at the end of 1 John 3 that I never noticed before.
19 This is how we know that we belong to the truth and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence: 20 If our hearts condemn us, we know that God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything. 21 Dear friends, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have confidence before God 22 and receive from him anything we ask, because we keep his commands and do what pleases him.
I rarely feel my heart at rest. There have been seasons where my heart is not quite as erratic, yet peace is a rare phenomenon. And yet, I am encouraged by the power in these verses.
Belonging to the truth does not mean my heart is at rest in His presence. If my heart is going a million different directions in the midst of worship I am not far from Him, though my heart condemns me as such. The truth is found in knowing the God is greater than my heart. When I am running back and forth, getting hurt my the lack of information shared, feeling rejected or out of the loop - He is not. I know it may seem simple - of course God is not lacking, but in the heat of the moment when your heart is heavy we tend to project our weaknesses onto the Creator.
My heart condemning me is not a reflection of my salvation. I was that young girl who prayed every sinner's prayer just to be certain - as my heart would condemn me almost daily. I was baptized many times for the same reason. I have fallen back into sin, as my heart showed me as already defeated and condemned so I might as well get the perks of sin. I often associated my hearts condemnation with the Spirit's. I am the child who tries to fix everything before asking for help. I want to make my heart right, before I commune with the Father. Yet this verse reminds me that there are times, and they may be often, where my heart will not rest in His presence and the worse thing I can do is assume that that is God.
I am often led by my heart, emotions defining truth, circumstances forming who I am. God is greater than my heart, and in that He knows everything. When my heart feels ambiguous and I can't figure out why I am in turmoil - I don't need to figure it out before coming to Jesus' feet. Rather I will find my rest in giving my heart to Him, letting Him lay aside the ambiguity and letting Him speak the truth of the situation not just my emotion in the moment.
This verse lines up with the song that has been playing over and over in my heart the last few weeks. The last couple of months of been incredibly stretching, in new and unfamiliar ways. The rocks of life have been turned into sand, and path has seemingly disappeared - forcing me to just be here. Being is hard, and the most uncomfortable thing I have experienced - yet is in the being God is able to speak. I can be, exposing my most intimate self if I have the promise of being known in the process.
The last line of this song says - 'you memorize me'. God knows our hearts, even if we don't - and we can enter into His rest when we allow that truth to speak louder than the condemnation we hear.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Understanding Lies
When words drip from a broken vessel they often bring sour taste.
If I am His and He is mine, then why do I act so alone?
When listening to lies, the only way to be free is to hear Truth.
In the midst of my wanderings, I hear the whispers of the I AM.
If I could just express all that is in my chest, I'd be free.
So You call us to run, to let loose the things tight wound.
For in the moment of expression, we find the lies.
Then You can speak truth, BE Truth, and we can know.
Let us find You, Potter and form our clay anew.
Making this broken, white wash pot a pitcher of hope.
So we wait, You will not leave us tarrying for long.
If I am His and He is mine, then why do I act so alone?
When listening to lies, the only way to be free is to hear Truth.
In the midst of my wanderings, I hear the whispers of the I AM.
If I could just express all that is in my chest, I'd be free.
So You call us to run, to let loose the things tight wound.
For in the moment of expression, we find the lies.
Then You can speak truth, BE Truth, and we can know.
Let us find You, Potter and form our clay anew.
Making this broken, white wash pot a pitcher of hope.
So we wait, You will not leave us tarrying for long.
Monday, September 9, 2013
In the Light
I've been reading 1 John intermittently throughout the last month or two. The first chapter is beautiful, intriguing and convicting.
Who among us walk in light, yet choose the darkness time after time?
How many in the dark grapple for the Light we've seen and touched, and yet we don't choose to hold fast to the Light.
Our sins can no longer hold us, they have no control over us anymore ad we walk in the Light. We are deceived and liars if we choose to walk in sin as we have seen the Light.
How many of us choose the path of ease and thus walk I'm darkness over the Light - a path of obedience, sacrifice, and freedom.
I know my will is strong, my self desire at times feels insurmountable even to the King of Kings.
Yet there lies in the beauty of the Light. The cleansing blood, that forgives our sins and reconciles us one to another. That gift cannot be taken away, as it was paid by the ultimate sacrifice of Jesus the Son of God.
He is faithful to forgive, but we must be faithful to repent. If we lie To ourselves, and say we have not sinned the Light cannot remain in us. Nor if we choose to sin over and over rather than remain in the Light.
It's not easy to admit our wrongdoings, nor is it easy to repent to the other (especially an intimate other). But Christ didn't differentiate between the stranger and the brother ; the soldier and the friend. Our repentance and heart towards the Light affects everything we cannot live in darkness anymore.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Being Strong
You don't have to be a charistmatic Type-A, white male to lead - but it certainly helps if you are.
Forget it if you are of
...a different ethnicity
...a different personality
...a different gender.
God bless you if you are all of the above and still hope to lead in this crazy world.
I don't know who told me this, who modeled this to me; but somewhere along childhood I felt that. It was at least easier to be a man, to be charismatic, to be a Type-A, and we all know being white makes life easier (at least in the US of A).
However the wonder of Christ is He makes all things new. The order of Kingdom is nothing like the order of our world. The values of the King differ greatly from the treasures of this earth. Yet even then, Christ goes beyond the majors, and focuses in on the minors. He is the restorer of relationships. The healer of wounds. He takes our memories and offers them the filter of Truth - often causing memories to be so much more than painful, but explicit reminders of Christ's work in our life.
As I reflected on the lack of strong female leaders of my youth I was reminded of several that 'broke' the rules that I mentioned.
Nancy Nelson Bliss
She was my father's mother. She was tall, beautiful, and smart. Never went to college, but rather was raised by her mom and her grandmother in San Francisco and was groomed as a debutante. She was certainly a strong woman. Having her husband sent out to WWII, she was faithful and active in the States. She would raise three children, and have nine grandchildren. She hosted magnificent parties, had large groups of friends to which she was fiercely loyal. While the Light of Christ was dim in her life, it was there and caused her to move ever slightly forward. Looking back, her tall stature shadows the halls of memories as a woman of hospitality and strength.
WCA Principal
William Carey Academy and the US Center for World Missions was a game changer for my 4th and 5th grade mind. All woman teachers, and a woman principal - they were strong leaders, of diverse ethnic and social background. Yet they all had in common the desire to teach, and enrich the lives of these missionary kids in their classes. My principal was Armenian, and because of my rebellious nature I met with her more than once. She was strong, stern, compassionate and loved the Lord. Looking back I am grateful for her impact on my life - not letting me stay in my mess, demanding reconciliation with my classmates instead.
Tuggy Dunton
This woman entered my life in the most crucial of times - I was 14, suicidal, depressed and defeated in my attempts to fix the deep sexual torment my mind went through. She was an MK who was raised in Venezuela, but had unfortunately been sexually abused by her family. Yet here she was in her 30s/40s married to a wonderful Native American man doing Native Missions throughout the Western United States. She was fluent in ASL, and did counseling regularly. While she was far from perfect, our relationship ended abruptly because of misunderstandings. She saw this broken teen, and began to speak God's truth of my identity. She worked in cross-cultural settings, drawing others who had been broken to see the Light and stood strong in the midst of racism, sexism, and discrimination.
Karen Wells
Most of the pastor's wives I met were always behind the scenes, and often absent from any real part of the church and community. Karen Wells was different, she was the wife of an AoG pastor in Colorado. She was the girls basketball coach at the highschool, taught various ministries at the church, and was involved in a large part of the congregation. As a kid her personality seemed strict and large, intimidating for a the tallest kid in the group who stuck out but didn't understand everything yet. Looking back she was a wonder. I remember a distinct moment when she came to youth group to be a spiritual parent that night. I was 13 and just beginning to go through my baggage; I was certainly discouraged as I cried on the stairs alone. When Karen saw me she came up and inquired. Her tall stature, large frame, and big personality seemed to close around me, blocking the darkness that dared to creep by. She was one of the first people I opened up to about everything, and she did the best thing a leader can do - she offered hope. She told me her story, her struggle and said to hold fast to Scripture. To ask God for a verse of promise, of comfort and of hope - a lifeline through the insanity. I still remember her verse that she used, "the marriage bed will be kept undefiled". It wasn't a rule, but a promise for her. Her strength reached across the congregation and the community to leave an impact.
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Often we can't see the beauty around us in the midst of the mud. Our memories are too tarnished to keep right the Truth displayed throughout our lives. None of these women were famous, none would be known by the world, but their leadership in the little and big ways changed my life. I still wish I could have found a woman that modeled all I wanted to be. I still haven't found her. But I remember reading the autobiography of one of my favorite women, and she reflected that there was no model for her. She had to push forth and become who she was meant to be with the strength of her husband, God and herself. I won't quit, I won't give up - I want to be the model I never had. I want to reflect the beauty of the models that I did. I don't have to be anything less or more than who I've been created. The sight of Christ offers true 20/20 vision to our blinded state. Dive into who He is, and our identity will come forth like a mountain spring.
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