Friday, February 11, 2011
Friday, January 07, 2011
Holy Mourning
Living in a social networking world I think it is interesting that mourning continues to be a private matter. For the most part people don't know how to interact with mourners. The setting is akward and unfriendly. While working at DMH and even at UMCH I dealt with mourning in different settings. The first of course was in a hospital setting. Mourning happened and as an intern I glimpsed into the sadness of the world. Unfortunatley I carried that sadness around with me. Wondering when the last hug would be or the last meaningful conversation. I was not good at seperating myself from the grief.
At UMCH I worked with a different type of mourner. Since I was working with emotionally sick teenagers the mourning was more like a living state of being. These kids were stuck in a stage of mourning. Mourning their lives because they wern't 'normal'. Mourning because their mom's and dad's abandoned then, abused them, or ignored them.
As I was reading Winner's chapter on the discipline of mourning I found myself opening this discipline to all kinds of mourning. Mourning a lost job, a lost dream, a lost faith, a lost role, a lost identity. Winner recognizes that mourning is not a strong point of the modern day church.
The church is bad at mourning because, "while you the mourner are still bawling your eyes out and slamming fists into the wall, everyone else, understandably, forgets and goes back to their normal lives and you find, that you are left alone. You are without the church, and without a church vocabulary for what happens to the living after the dead are dead."(27-28).
The church has never dealt with mourning. Part of it is the way the church is structured. I know that our church has a commitee to organize funeral dinners, but beyond that, we are unequipped to deal with mourning. We don't have a follow up program, or a team of people who attends to the mourner.
The Jewish people were intentional about their mourning. While the mourner was struck by the shock of their family members death, the community came in and took care of everything. Everything seems intentional, even the mourner's process of grief. The mourner's "neighbors bring food. At the first meal after the funeral-called the seudat havra'ah, of the meal of recovery-the mourner is meant to eat an egg, whose obvious circular fertility is to begin the slow work of reminding the bereaved that she will live."(30)
The Jewish mourner has a calender which they stick too. The first week, the first month, and the first year. All these times are intentional for the mourner as they continue to seperate themselves from their loss and back into a more ordinary routine of life.
Through this year the mourner is required to say the Kaddish twice a day. The mourner cannot say this prayer alone, he/she has to be within the community.
The prayer is this, "Blessed, praised, glorified, exalted, extolled, mighty, unpraised, and lauded be the Name of the Holy One, Blessed is He, beyond any blessing or song."
The mourner is called to do the Kaddish so that "even in the pit, even in depression and loss and nonsense, still we respond to God with praise. This is not to say that the mourner should not feel what he feels-anger, disbelief, hatred. He can feel those things (and shout them out to God; God can take it). You do not have to feel praise int he intense moments of mourning, but the praise is still true, and insisting upon it over and over twice a day every day, ensures that eventually you will come to remember the truth of those praises."(36)
The church can learn a lesson or two from the Jewish discipline of mourning. We can start being more involved in the loss of our Christian brother's and sisters. We can start to admit that the loss of a person, a job, an idenity, a role, or a relationship can truly damage a person's faith. We can start being the community that can take a damaged person and help them find healing.
Let us not let the akwardness of pain and grief come between our love for the church.
At UMCH I worked with a different type of mourner. Since I was working with emotionally sick teenagers the mourning was more like a living state of being. These kids were stuck in a stage of mourning. Mourning their lives because they wern't 'normal'. Mourning because their mom's and dad's abandoned then, abused them, or ignored them.
As I was reading Winner's chapter on the discipline of mourning I found myself opening this discipline to all kinds of mourning. Mourning a lost job, a lost dream, a lost faith, a lost role, a lost identity. Winner recognizes that mourning is not a strong point of the modern day church.
The church is bad at mourning because, "while you the mourner are still bawling your eyes out and slamming fists into the wall, everyone else, understandably, forgets and goes back to their normal lives and you find, that you are left alone. You are without the church, and without a church vocabulary for what happens to the living after the dead are dead."(27-28).
The church has never dealt with mourning. Part of it is the way the church is structured. I know that our church has a commitee to organize funeral dinners, but beyond that, we are unequipped to deal with mourning. We don't have a follow up program, or a team of people who attends to the mourner.
The Jewish people were intentional about their mourning. While the mourner was struck by the shock of their family members death, the community came in and took care of everything. Everything seems intentional, even the mourner's process of grief. The mourner's "neighbors bring food. At the first meal after the funeral-called the seudat havra'ah, of the meal of recovery-the mourner is meant to eat an egg, whose obvious circular fertility is to begin the slow work of reminding the bereaved that she will live."(30)
The Jewish mourner has a calender which they stick too. The first week, the first month, and the first year. All these times are intentional for the mourner as they continue to seperate themselves from their loss and back into a more ordinary routine of life.
Through this year the mourner is required to say the Kaddish twice a day. The mourner cannot say this prayer alone, he/she has to be within the community.
The prayer is this, "Blessed, praised, glorified, exalted, extolled, mighty, unpraised, and lauded be the Name of the Holy One, Blessed is He, beyond any blessing or song."
The mourner is called to do the Kaddish so that "even in the pit, even in depression and loss and nonsense, still we respond to God with praise. This is not to say that the mourner should not feel what he feels-anger, disbelief, hatred. He can feel those things (and shout them out to God; God can take it). You do not have to feel praise int he intense moments of mourning, but the praise is still true, and insisting upon it over and over twice a day every day, ensures that eventually you will come to remember the truth of those praises."(36)
The church can learn a lesson or two from the Jewish discipline of mourning. We can start being more involved in the loss of our Christian brother's and sisters. We can start to admit that the loss of a person, a job, an idenity, a role, or a relationship can truly damage a person's faith. We can start being the community that can take a damaged person and help them find healing.
Let us not let the akwardness of pain and grief come between our love for the church.
Creation Returned
"'What happens when we stop working and controlling nature?" Moishe Konigsberg responds. "When we don't operate machines, or pick flowers, or pluck fish from the sea?...When we cease interfering in the world we acknowledge that it is God's world.'" (6-7)
I love this imagery. When we stop working, playing, eating, we become to a still sense that we are not alone. I found this when I worked for Decatur Memorial Hospital and Hospice. I would walk into patient's rooms and find a uneasy silence. Through being sick these people were required to stop. Stop working, stop eating, stop fighting, stop driving, stop everything that was ordinary in their lives. They were found dependant on other people where they had the chance to sit in stillness and review their lives thus far.
Whenever I visited hospice patients I found storytelling. My first visit was with an elderly women who lived in a assisted living community. She came to tell me her life story. Who she was married to, who her children were, how they came and visited for Christmas, who took care of her, where she used to live, what she used to do, how she used to serve within the church. This woman's struggle with the church was herself. She could no longer serve, take communion, attend weekly worship meetings. She felt her faith had teetered and was fading.
I found this need to tell stories was great within all hospice patients. The more you inquired the deeper the story went.
The first discipline that Winner discusses is keeping the discipline of keeping the Sabbath. Sabbath keeping was not a part of my upbringing. Actually 75% of my family was active on Sunday mornings within the worship band and by the time Sunday afternoon we were all exhausted. I heard about Sabbath keeping in college but I was in college. Discipline was not necessarliy on the top of the list, even though it should have been.
While reading this first chapter I kept coming back to creation. As Christians we are not required to keep Sabbath. We are not even commanded to keep Sabbath. However, when we choose to let our time point our lives to Jesus we have found Sabbath.
My preaching professor said it best, "Get to your calenders first." Often times we find we have no time for new things, like excercise, friendly dinners, family time, or date night. I think that is because we let our calenders ruin our lives. We forget to surrender our time to Christ. And the best part is that we don't even have to make up some new trendy way to surrender our calenders; the Sabbath!
The reason that we surrender our time is not so that we can be more productive or so that we can rest from our crazy schedules, but so we can recognize our stories within the Kingdom. We can have a chance at reflecting on God and who he is and what he has done. We have the chance to stop creating, to stop worrying, to stop consuming, and to start reflecting on creation and resurrection. We shouldn't wait until we are at the end our of our lives to recall and reflect. We shouldn't have to be forced into a stillness through sickness or loss to find our time is important and is fleeting.
As Christian we are called to live radically different than the world. Why don't we start with surrendering our time to Christ?
Thursday, January 06, 2011
Mudhouse Sabbath
One of my Old Testament professors recommended Mudhouse Sabbath my Junior year of college. I went to the bookstore and only found it on c.d. So I passed. Well about a month ago Waylon and I were in Barnes and Noble. We go there and walk around, even though we know that we can get any book for half the price on amazon. What can I say, we like the smell of new books.
While we were walking down the Christian spirituality section, I saw mudhouse sabbath. I was so suprised to see it in Barnes and Noble and I had to snatch it up. I started reading it while we were waiting on frieds at a restraunt and felt my soul stir.
The author, Lauren f. Winner, is a Jewish woman who converted to Christianity. The book is about 11 Jewish disciplilnes that she considers valuable for the Christian life. The introduction fascinated me, because she considers discipline essential to the Christian life.
Growing up I enjoyed lovely, and emotionally driven mountain top experiences. I felt on top of the world. I usually found these mountain top experiences at church camp, or at an emotional church service. I lived, and still live a chaotic, messy, and unorganized life. I would feel great for about a day and a half and then doubt would creep into my life. These days of doubt would be enforced by my own insecurities. Even now, as I have been making conversion decisions to follow Christ, I have had my doubts. I was called to quit my job and go back to school, and in that decision, I have worried about money, transportation, whether I am making the 'right' decision.
However, when I finally make the decision I feel wonderful. I actually did feel wonderful for about a week. I was on the Mountaintop! In that week I decided to go back the gym, to develop a discipline for excercise, housecleaning, and eating right. I also made a pact to myself to be a good wife, whatever that means. I felt wonderful. I felt like I could conquer the world and that Satan would fall beneath my 'oh so righteous' feet.
Then Saturday came, and I fell into a weepy mess. The reason I like Winner's introduction is because she finds "mostly [spritual practice/discipline] is about training so that you'll know the moutaintop for what it is when you get there."(xi)
I have always thought spiritual disciipline was for the wilderness times. The times when you feel lonley, desperate, in doubt, and full of insecurity. I figured if you could discipline yourself in those times that the mountaintop experiences would just be a break from your grueling disciplined life. Like going out for cake when you have good news. Or treating yourself to some new clothes when you get some money in the mail from a relative.
I just figured the mountaintop experience would be a chance for a bit of freedom from the discplined life. I have found however, that the disciplined life is supposed to be a life of freedom. We are called to followw Christ, to carry our cross towards our own death. We are called to a life of freedom from death and sin!!!!!
But, how can we even pick up our cross if we do not recognize what we are enslaved to? Discpline allows us to uncover our wonderful impulses. It allows us to find what we are addicted to and how to stop our addictions. It gives us the choice. The choice whether to eat the cake or not. The choice to spend the money or not. The choice to stay silent or to speak.
Discipline finds our sin and allows us to choose who to follow. Do we follow our impulses or do we follow our Lord?
And as I have grown, and gotten older, I have found a discpline for almost everything. Just as I have been reading in the Mudhouse Sabbath, there is a discipline for rest, a discpline for grieving, a discipline for body, for food, for spending money, for suffering, for speaking and staying silent. Wherever you start your discpline life you will not be disappointed when the Holy Spirit uses the practice to uncover more sin within your heart.
So, when I am atop the moutnain, I can feel free knowing that when I descend back into the lonley pits of misery I will be free.
Understanding Eternity
I have found Facebook extremely boring. I actually made a post about it the other day. There are just too many people, half of which I don't remember. But, today I got on facebook and started to look at pictures of families that made a huge investment in my life throughout the years. I looked at pictures of the communities they are involved in with now and how they are continuing to live within the Kingdom of God.
As I continued to look at pictures it would be very easy for me to get depressed and say, well how lonely am I know, I don't feel like I have community like that, I don't know of anyone who knows me like that anymore. But how can I get depressed when I see pictures of small groups, worship settings, and people feeling the impression of Christ. These families that have made an impression on me are continuing to make impressions of Christ on the people that they are surrounded by. Even though life has so drastically changed, these families have continued to run the race of perserverance.
They have not let change, death, sadness, frustration, or anger overcome their love for Christ. While these fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters have gone to college, moved, started new churches, they are still influencing and making an impression on me. I come to find a glimpse of eternity in these pictures because I see the Kingdom living. I don't have to feel sad or loneley because I get to spend eternity with these wonderful people.
I get a glimpse of understanding an eterninty that isn't boring, it is full of personalities, wisdom, love, and care. Eternity is not going to be a place where we have to sing all the time, and where we have to do it a certian way every week. Eternity is going to be full of people and that is the best kind of Eternity!
As I continued to look at pictures it would be very easy for me to get depressed and say, well how lonely am I know, I don't feel like I have community like that, I don't know of anyone who knows me like that anymore. But how can I get depressed when I see pictures of small groups, worship settings, and people feeling the impression of Christ. These families that have made an impression on me are continuing to make impressions of Christ on the people that they are surrounded by. Even though life has so drastically changed, these families have continued to run the race of perserverance.
They have not let change, death, sadness, frustration, or anger overcome their love for Christ. While these fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters have gone to college, moved, started new churches, they are still influencing and making an impression on me. I come to find a glimpse of eternity in these pictures because I see the Kingdom living. I don't have to feel sad or loneley because I get to spend eternity with these wonderful people.
I get a glimpse of understanding an eterninty that isn't boring, it is full of personalities, wisdom, love, and care. Eternity is not going to be a place where we have to sing all the time, and where we have to do it a certian way every week. Eternity is going to be full of people and that is the best kind of Eternity!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
"A saint is a person who practices the keystone human virtue of humility. Humility in the face of wealth and plenty, humility in the face of hatred and violence, humility in the face of strength, humility in the face of your own genius or lack of it, humility in the face of another's humility, humility in the face of love and beauty, humility in the face of pain and death. Saints are driven to humbling themselves before all the splendor and horrow of the world because they perceive there to be something divine in it, something pulsing and alive beneath the hard dead surface of material things, something inconceivably greater and purer than they". Father Joe, Tony Hendra
Since I have graduated college I have been privy to two aspects of God. The aspect of compassion and the aspect of humility are the two attributes I have been immersed in.
I asked for humility and I have been reiceving my dose every day for the last eighteen months. As I right this I feel that the humility I have experienced cannot be conveyed in words, and I worry that I am inflating my own storry to fan my pride. I pray that this is not the case. God has given me every day to get up and serve. To take on a life of humilty. But, these lessons don't start with action. I feel my heart has been torn apart and molded back together by experiencing the deep unending love of Christ. I have worked alongside of coal miners, housewives, teachers, insurance salesmen, pedaphiles, theifs, and rapists. I have talked with blunt racists and silent gossipers. Through my interactions with these many people I have been able to confront my own sin, my own dillusion, and my own pride.
I have been able to see the love of Christ for what it is, and not for what we have all made it out to be.
And that is where the compassion of Christ has seeped into my heart and into my mind. I have been shown my own short comings in serving other people and have been given the opportunity to keep my judgements to myself. While, this is not always the case, and I am often found in fault for judging, I have gotten soft. My heart has less ridges on it's edges. I cry more than I rage. I feel pity for the lost rather than feeling enraged by their ignorance. I pray more than I talk. I find myself longing and craving for silence.
I do not long to be a saint, or anything else for that matter. I long to see the divine in this world. To touch, feel, taste, and smell the love of Christ for all of humanity. I long to follow the Spirit on day at a time.
And I pray I can stop worrying, stop strategizing, and stop fussing over the Gospel, and I can start immersing my life in the stories and scriptures of Jesus. I pray the compassion and humility I have been dragged through can be a powerful witness of the transforming power of the Trinity. And I pray that the humility that I face on a daily basis can be evidence of the Divine in both pain and beauty.
Since I have graduated college I have been privy to two aspects of God. The aspect of compassion and the aspect of humility are the two attributes I have been immersed in.
I asked for humility and I have been reiceving my dose every day for the last eighteen months. As I right this I feel that the humility I have experienced cannot be conveyed in words, and I worry that I am inflating my own storry to fan my pride. I pray that this is not the case. God has given me every day to get up and serve. To take on a life of humilty. But, these lessons don't start with action. I feel my heart has been torn apart and molded back together by experiencing the deep unending love of Christ. I have worked alongside of coal miners, housewives, teachers, insurance salesmen, pedaphiles, theifs, and rapists. I have talked with blunt racists and silent gossipers. Through my interactions with these many people I have been able to confront my own sin, my own dillusion, and my own pride.
I have been able to see the love of Christ for what it is, and not for what we have all made it out to be.
And that is where the compassion of Christ has seeped into my heart and into my mind. I have been shown my own short comings in serving other people and have been given the opportunity to keep my judgements to myself. While, this is not always the case, and I am often found in fault for judging, I have gotten soft. My heart has less ridges on it's edges. I cry more than I rage. I feel pity for the lost rather than feeling enraged by their ignorance. I pray more than I talk. I find myself longing and craving for silence.
I do not long to be a saint, or anything else for that matter. I long to see the divine in this world. To touch, feel, taste, and smell the love of Christ for all of humanity. I long to follow the Spirit on day at a time.
And I pray I can stop worrying, stop strategizing, and stop fussing over the Gospel, and I can start immersing my life in the stories and scriptures of Jesus. I pray the compassion and humility I have been dragged through can be a powerful witness of the transforming power of the Trinity. And I pray that the humility that I face on a daily basis can be evidence of the Divine in both pain and beauty.
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
All of my days. I have been searching all of my days.
I have recently been newly employed. I work at the United Methodist Children's Home. I started three weeks ago and I have been immersed in a culture that is shocking. This culture is riddled with sin and sorrow and seems to be hidden from the rest of the world.
I help teach broken children. Almost a year ago I was working with the sick and the dying, those who are at the end of their journey. I worked with the widows of the world as they were dealing the death of their loved spouse.
Now I am working with the orphans of this world. Those who are broken and almost beyond repair. On the surface these children are a waste of time. They are the future criminals of this world. They are medicated, they go to therapy, they live in a structured environment and they still are out of control. Living off their impulses and learning from their other radical peers. If they cannot function well in this setting they are sure to fail in the world that dwells outside of the campus.
That is one perspective that easy to adopt. It is a perspective that dehumanizes these children and allows for the institution of law and of normalcy to reign supreme. This perspective is driven by fear and misunderstanding. I can understand this perspective to a point because the first week I worked there I was extremely intimidated by the outbursts, the rage, the profanity, the threats, and the violence.
I could easily say that the reason why those reactions don't effect me anymore is because I have become immune to them. That opinion would be false. I am still shocked by the behavior, however, I have learned more of the why behind the impulses and the rage. These kids are a product of a culture that never really cared for them in the first place.
These children were unwanted and were treated in such a way that showed them in every way that they were unwanted. When a young formidable child is treated with such absurdity it is understandable that these children act in this absurdity. It is understandable that these children feel in this absurdity. It is understandable that these children think in this absurdity. It is understandable that these children are a product of the absurdity of those who were called to parent them.
So, the question then comes.
Do we treat these children with the respect they never received or do we let them live in the Darwinist society that we are all immune too? Do we care for these human beings even when they cannot care for themselves, and many of them will never truly be a productive member of our humanistic society.
Well if we follow the world's guidelines for care and consideration we would probably disregard these kinds of people. Yes, of course their will always be the moral decision of making sure these kinds of people are taken care of to a point. Though that system falls of it's face if there is no value on these children. There needs to be some kind of value given to the people and the world cannot truly give value, for it did not create itself.
The value that must be found needs to be found in their image. These children have been made in the image of God. They were created for the capacity for completion. If we give up on these children, we give up on their creator. If we let these children live in the margins, we let their creator live in the margins. If we let these children suffer the consequences of our sinful world view then we let their creator suffer the consequences of our sinful world view.
If we pass these children by then what is the point of the Good News that is supposed to save those who need it the most?
Friday, February 26, 2010
Joan of Arc
I must be honest. I really don't know anything about French history. I blame some of this ignorance on my American education and I blame some of my ignorance on my apathetic attitude towards the French culture. I don't exactly know where I adopted such a sad stance on the French, but i confess my sin in an effort to redeem my new interest.
The first saint that James Martin discusses in his book is Joan of Arc, who was not only French, but was a great French military leader. Her story starts as a young girl who hears the voices of three saints. These three saints instructed Joan to save France. Through a series of events the French military, Joan of Arc and the three saints accompanying her, went into action against the English. After a couple of successful battles the French decided that they weren't in need of their living saint and let her get captured by the Burgundian army who sold her to the English. The French's apathy for their young prophet led her to a death fit more for a witch than for a saint. The church that she revered sent her off to her death as a heretic.
All in all Joan's life looks a lot like many of the lives that have followed God rather than the cultural and theological expectations of the church. A life that is marked by the fingerprints of the Holy Spirit rather than the finger prints of current culture or theology.
It brings me to ask the question; if we are all following the Holy Spirit with our heart, mind, soul, and strength are we more apt to look like contemporary culture or theology? And if we are not looking like contemporary culture and theology what is the good of it all?
Joan of Arc was culturally and theologically contradictory for her time. I don't know much about the culture back then, but I do know that a woman who refused to dress in a man's clothing would have been completely misunderstood. Not only would she have been misunderstood, but would have been considered a heretic by the church's standard. We certainly wouldn't call her a heretic within the restoration movement but she wouldn't have been looked upon with affection.
Joan wasn't different. Joan was following what God wanted and she was confident in that way of life. Joan trusted in the Lord. Whether you believe in saints, or whether you despise Catholics like so many protestants do, you have to admit that Joan was a real tangible example of faith. You may not believe in her story, but to look at the person of Joan you have to admit she believed in it.
James Martin recognizes that, "Joan found her way to God by learning a language that no one else could hear, and so she is the perfect model for someone on the beginning of a faith journey" (26). I would only add that I think Joan is also the perfect model for someone on the middle and the end of a faith journey as well.
The first saint that James Martin discusses in his book is Joan of Arc, who was not only French, but was a great French military leader. Her story starts as a young girl who hears the voices of three saints. These three saints instructed Joan to save France. Through a series of events the French military, Joan of Arc and the three saints accompanying her, went into action against the English. After a couple of successful battles the French decided that they weren't in need of their living saint and let her get captured by the Burgundian army who sold her to the English. The French's apathy for their young prophet led her to a death fit more for a witch than for a saint. The church that she revered sent her off to her death as a heretic.
All in all Joan's life looks a lot like many of the lives that have followed God rather than the cultural and theological expectations of the church. A life that is marked by the fingerprints of the Holy Spirit rather than the finger prints of current culture or theology.
It brings me to ask the question; if we are all following the Holy Spirit with our heart, mind, soul, and strength are we more apt to look like contemporary culture or theology? And if we are not looking like contemporary culture and theology what is the good of it all?
Joan of Arc was culturally and theologically contradictory for her time. I don't know much about the culture back then, but I do know that a woman who refused to dress in a man's clothing would have been completely misunderstood. Not only would she have been misunderstood, but would have been considered a heretic by the church's standard. We certainly wouldn't call her a heretic within the restoration movement but she wouldn't have been looked upon with affection.
Joan wasn't different. Joan was following what God wanted and she was confident in that way of life. Joan trusted in the Lord. Whether you believe in saints, or whether you despise Catholics like so many protestants do, you have to admit that Joan was a real tangible example of faith. You may not believe in her story, but to look at the person of Joan you have to admit she believed in it.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
My Life with the Saints
In June I started reading Stephen King. I also dabbled into the Boleyn books, but when I read the second in the series it tended to look and sound a lot like the first book of the series, so I gave it up. However, Stephen King captured me. I read The Stand, The Bachman series, The Black House, and started listening to the Dark Tower Series on tape. Sometime within the month of December I lost interest in King. Which is ironic because Waylon got me four more of his books for Christmas. I labored through Insomnia and half of Under the Dome and gave up.
All to say this, I have not found a spiritually refreshing book in quite a while. I have also not found a spiritually challenging book in quite a while. I think part of me has not wanted to read those kinds of books and part of me has not found any to read. It almost frustrates me that I have already read all the famous authors at Barnes and Noble, because now I really have to scrounge around on Amazon to find something to read. With all this said I am here to announce the book that I actually did find in Barnes and Noble, which is both spiritually refreshing and spiritually challenging. It is called My Life with the Saints, and it is written by James Martin, SJ.
I was drawn to this book a couple of months ago but I didn't have the funds to purchase it. Waylon and I went to B&N as part of our Valentines Day and I picked the book up and was walking to the register and then put it down on a stand of clearance Christmas cards. Waylon was looking at journals. I opened the first page and saw someone comment about how much the author writes like Merton and I was sold. I left for my trip to Naperville and started reading. The first two chapters captured me. The second chapter actually left me completely convicted and I knew that the Holy Spirit directed my to buy this book. Over the next couple of weeks I will travel with the author as he undresses his interaction with these men and women of the past. I will write on whether the Christian Church should take sainthood more seriously and why it is important to look at other parts of Christianity as well as other parts of religion to deepen our faith. I will also share with you my honest reactions and convictions from my readings.
I hope you will travel with me on this journey. I hope the blessing I have received in this book will bless and challenge you as well.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
A New Hospitality Code
My small group and I have been going through the book of Luke. I picked Luke because I had never really delved into that Gospel before. Actually I don't think I had ever read the book of Luke straight through before. I think partly I have never read Luke all the way through is because it seems like a forgotten Gospel. Matthew has the sermon on the mount, Mark is full of action and John is the Gospel concerned most with the Holy Spirit. Luke seemed to be overshadowed within the rest of the Gospels but what I have found within the book has truly amazed me.
I am going through the tenth chapter of Luke this week and the contrast between those who welcome the disciples and those who reject the disciples is clear as a warm spring day. Jesus starts of with a pep talk to the disciples before he sends them out. He basically tells them that those who welcome you are giving you the gift of hospitality. Those who welcome you are following the hospitality code from the days of the Old Testament. Those who welcome you still have a grasp on what the people of Israel could and should look like. Jesus also warns them of those who will reject the disciples. Those people who have lost the importance of who the people of Israel are called to become. Those people who are more concerned with proving a political point rather than helping a brother or sister in need. Those people who just are apathetic towards their neighbors.
The climax of this speech and of the hospitality code within the Jewish world is verse sixteen. Jesus culminates this Old Testament law and tradition and centers himself within it. He states that if anyone is accepted within the people of God then he is accepted and if anyone is rejected he is rejected.
Jesus then goes on and talks about the Good Samaritan. He is using one of the most unclean people to demonstrate this new hospitality. Jesus is ripping the scab off the hatred of the Jews towards the Samaritans and is using that hatred to teach them about the Kingdom.
Looking at this scripture, I see that our discriminations, our hatreds, our bleeding scabs should be surrendered to this new code of hospitality. That when we are hating our brother, when we are ignoring our brother, when we are degrading our brother, we are hating, ignoring and degrading Christ.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
When she sits behind the wheel of her white pickup truck the world seems livable. When she looks out the window she sees the beauty of an uninterrupted creation. A creation that has no faults or errors. However, when she starts driving her pickup down the highway at a mere fifty miles an hour, she starts to see the side- effects of a lost and alluded reality. She drives over road kill, gets honked at for going too slow, and even feels the anger rise up in her heart as someone cuts her off.
Living faith is a lot like driving a pickup truck. The first time you get behind the wheel you have a sense of excitement and wonder. You feel a certian amount of freedom from your old life of asking for rides to your new life of independence. There is a sense of excitment and sense of legalism when a person enters into the faith. We throw away all of our "bad" c.d.'s. We burn all our "bad" books, we throw out all our "bad movies" and we live in a world of compete abstinance. We don't cuss, drink, spit on the floor. We become perfect moral beings.
We live in a moral perfection until we get hurt by another christian, or until we are confronted by a situation where morals don't apply.
Our perfect morality that starts our faith journey off suddenley comes to a hault as we realize that Jesus didn't come and die so that we could be good, neat, moral beings.
When we find ourselves living by our own moral standards we find ourselves treating our faith cheaply. The reason I say this is because when we balance our own lives on the thread of morality we are living in the shallow end of the pool. We have created our own personal law and that at times becomes an idol. The church often gets focused on doing. The church often gets focused on saying. If we do and say then we will achieve our salvation. If we serve the church until our fingers fall off and if we say that we are christians until we loose our voice we still are not grasping the reality of faith. Doing and saying are wonderful venues of showing people the Gospel. But they are not the foundation of our faith.
Our faith cannot be morality, or actions, or words.
Our faith is believing the story and living it out. Not just teaching the story, or praying the story, or moralizing the story, or acting the story, but actually believing the story.
When we believe the story we seek to holistically represent the Gospel in our human existence.
Our faith will bind our divided parts. Our faith will be a catalyst and a sustaining reality in bringing us into completion through Jesus.
But, we first have to believe in the story.
Living faith is a lot like driving a pickup truck. The first time you get behind the wheel you have a sense of excitement and wonder. You feel a certian amount of freedom from your old life of asking for rides to your new life of independence. There is a sense of excitment and sense of legalism when a person enters into the faith. We throw away all of our "bad" c.d.'s. We burn all our "bad" books, we throw out all our "bad movies" and we live in a world of compete abstinance. We don't cuss, drink, spit on the floor. We become perfect moral beings.
We live in a moral perfection until we get hurt by another christian, or until we are confronted by a situation where morals don't apply.
Our perfect morality that starts our faith journey off suddenley comes to a hault as we realize that Jesus didn't come and die so that we could be good, neat, moral beings.
When we find ourselves living by our own moral standards we find ourselves treating our faith cheaply. The reason I say this is because when we balance our own lives on the thread of morality we are living in the shallow end of the pool. We have created our own personal law and that at times becomes an idol. The church often gets focused on doing. The church often gets focused on saying. If we do and say then we will achieve our salvation. If we serve the church until our fingers fall off and if we say that we are christians until we loose our voice we still are not grasping the reality of faith. Doing and saying are wonderful venues of showing people the Gospel. But they are not the foundation of our faith.
Our faith cannot be morality, or actions, or words.
Our faith is believing the story and living it out. Not just teaching the story, or praying the story, or moralizing the story, or acting the story, but actually believing the story.
When we believe the story we seek to holistically represent the Gospel in our human existence.
Our faith will bind our divided parts. Our faith will be a catalyst and a sustaining reality in bringing us into completion through Jesus.
But, we first have to believe in the story.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Sunday School
"God blesses those who mourn,
for they will be comforted."
Matthew 5:4
Don't take scripture for granted. Scripture will reach you in your humanity when you decide to soak your life in it. I have decided to teach the sermon on the mount to my Sunday School class. I have a group of young women who have been in church together since they were little.
The Sermon on the Mount was meant for the kingdom people to digest. Jesus is teaching with an expectation for people to wet their appetite and to devour his words with an absolute hunger. He is not teaching to a group of people who are going to walk away and forget his words. He is not teaching to luke warm people. Jesus is teaching to a group of men who will be rembered for living out these words, throughout their lives and throughout their deaths.
I was studying the beatitudes because it will be the first section of scripture that I teach. While I was reading the mourning verse caught my eye. Blessed are those who mourn. This seems so odd at first. When I think of mourn I think of someone mourning the loss of a family memeber, or a friend. This is true to some extent. However, it is a very narrow view point of a mourner.
A mourner is one who mourns the loss. Not necessarily the loss of someone, but just the loss. The loss of a job, the loss of a position, the loss of a name, the loss of a specific identity, the loss of time, the loss of completion.
A mourner is one who despairs in the loss of completion.
It is someone who recognizes the world as a broken place, and cries out in pain. Someone who hides under the covers and cries for the world. Someone who carries a heaviness around for those who are lost. Someone who can love no matter how many wounds they have been pierced with.
Someone like Jesus. A man who cried for the loss of Israel, for the brokeness of Israel.
A mourner is one who despairs in the loss of completion.
This mourner is blessed, and he will be comforted.
This idea of comforted actually is a demonstration of companionship. A demonstration of completion. The mourner is blessed. He is free from his tedious life. He is free from the world's pain. Because of this freedom a disciple can mourn. Because of his freedom a disciple can be comforted.
Without this freedom, without this blessing we all find ourselves in despair. We find ourselves living as a nihilist. However, with this freedom we can mourn the loss of completion, but we can also be comforted because of the glimpse of restoration that will be.
Those who mourn, who hide under the covers on dark days, know that there are glimpses of the wonderful completion that we will all receive.
Matthew 5:4
Don't take scripture for granted. Scripture will reach you in your humanity when you decide to soak your life in it. I have decided to teach the sermon on the mount to my Sunday School class. I have a group of young women who have been in church together since they were little.
The Sermon on the Mount was meant for the kingdom people to digest. Jesus is teaching with an expectation for people to wet their appetite and to devour his words with an absolute hunger. He is not teaching to a group of people who are going to walk away and forget his words. He is not teaching to luke warm people. Jesus is teaching to a group of men who will be rembered for living out these words, throughout their lives and throughout their deaths.
I was studying the beatitudes because it will be the first section of scripture that I teach. While I was reading the mourning verse caught my eye. Blessed are those who mourn. This seems so odd at first. When I think of mourn I think of someone mourning the loss of a family memeber, or a friend. This is true to some extent. However, it is a very narrow view point of a mourner.
A mourner is one who mourns the loss. Not necessarily the loss of someone, but just the loss. The loss of a job, the loss of a position, the loss of a name, the loss of a specific identity, the loss of time, the loss of completion.
A mourner is one who despairs in the loss of completion.
It is someone who recognizes the world as a broken place, and cries out in pain. Someone who hides under the covers and cries for the world. Someone who carries a heaviness around for those who are lost. Someone who can love no matter how many wounds they have been pierced with.
Someone like Jesus. A man who cried for the loss of Israel, for the brokeness of Israel.
A mourner is one who despairs in the loss of completion.
This mourner is blessed, and he will be comforted.
This idea of comforted actually is a demonstration of companionship. A demonstration of completion. The mourner is blessed. He is free from his tedious life. He is free from the world's pain. Because of this freedom a disciple can mourn. Because of his freedom a disciple can be comforted.
Without this freedom, without this blessing we all find ourselves in despair. We find ourselves living as a nihilist. However, with this freedom we can mourn the loss of completion, but we can also be comforted because of the glimpse of restoration that will be.
Those who mourn, who hide under the covers on dark days, know that there are glimpses of the wonderful completion that we will all receive.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
My walking days.
I walk almost every day. The practical reason for walking is to get exercise and to give the dogs an opportunity to exercise.
But, do I really do anything that is just practical? I like walking because it gives me an opportunity to create space in my life for God to move. I see things when I walk that I wouldn't normally see while I drive, or even ride my bike.
Some of things I have seen on my walks;
A fox run across the road,
a sunset,
trees that touch the sky,
little children,
I see a lot of things on my walks. But, my walks are also ways where I get to talk with people. I see people around town that attend our church and I get to sit down and talk, or just wave and smile. In a way it is a slight reminder that says, hey, I am in this with you.
Today I was walking and I saw Margie on her front porch reading the newspaper. Margie is our 92 year old door greeter. Every Sunday I ask her how she is doing and she pulls me so that my ear is next to her mouth and tells me that she is mean as ever. On my first meeting of Margie I found out that she sews all her own clothes, she mows her own lawn, and she still drives. She also warned me not to go to the doctor, or to trust lawyers.
Well I have gotten to know Margie over the last month we have lived here and she is a foundation of the Gospel. I sat with her this morning and she gave me the wisdom of her age. She encouraged me to save my money, to settle my disagreements with my husband quickly, to always talk affectionately to my mama and pap.
I also found out today that Margie has lost four sisters, a set of parents, a husband, and a son. She is what our society calls a survivor. This women has experienced the pains and sorrows of life. She has lost much, but she gets out every day. She drives all over the place, visiting our Christian brothers and sisters in the faith who are shut it, hospitalized and reside in nursing homes. She visits with these people and she prays with them all. She is crass and earthy like our good old Anne Lamont, but she has the age to live it out.
I am not trying to romanticize Margie, I am just trying to show that it takes all kinds. Every person, young, and old are called to be faithful. At 92 Margie could have easily given up by now. She has lost almost everyone around her that she cared about. She could sit in her own self pity, but she is a light even now.
We are called to live out our conversion in every decision that we make. Even when we have lost everything. Even when we have gained everything.
But, do I really do anything that is just practical? I like walking because it gives me an opportunity to create space in my life for God to move. I see things when I walk that I wouldn't normally see while I drive, or even ride my bike.
Some of things I have seen on my walks;
A fox run across the road,
a sunset,
trees that touch the sky,
little children,
I see a lot of things on my walks. But, my walks are also ways where I get to talk with people. I see people around town that attend our church and I get to sit down and talk, or just wave and smile. In a way it is a slight reminder that says, hey, I am in this with you.
Today I was walking and I saw Margie on her front porch reading the newspaper. Margie is our 92 year old door greeter. Every Sunday I ask her how she is doing and she pulls me so that my ear is next to her mouth and tells me that she is mean as ever. On my first meeting of Margie I found out that she sews all her own clothes, she mows her own lawn, and she still drives. She also warned me not to go to the doctor, or to trust lawyers.
Well I have gotten to know Margie over the last month we have lived here and she is a foundation of the Gospel. I sat with her this morning and she gave me the wisdom of her age. She encouraged me to save my money, to settle my disagreements with my husband quickly, to always talk affectionately to my mama and pap.
I also found out today that Margie has lost four sisters, a set of parents, a husband, and a son. She is what our society calls a survivor. This women has experienced the pains and sorrows of life. She has lost much, but she gets out every day. She drives all over the place, visiting our Christian brothers and sisters in the faith who are shut it, hospitalized and reside in nursing homes. She visits with these people and she prays with them all. She is crass and earthy like our good old Anne Lamont, but she has the age to live it out.
I am not trying to romanticize Margie, I am just trying to show that it takes all kinds. Every person, young, and old are called to be faithful. At 92 Margie could have easily given up by now. She has lost almost everyone around her that she cared about. She could sit in her own self pity, but she is a light even now.
We are called to live out our conversion in every decision that we make. Even when we have lost everything. Even when we have gained everything.
Thursday, September 03, 2009
Creating Space.
There is a house across the street from us that reminds me of a modern fairy tale. The house looks too modern to hold any old fairy tale, but I could definitely see a newer tale being spun around the atmosphere. It is a very tall house and it has a castle spiral at the top. The brick has been kept together for a long while. The house has a long fence around it that goes all around the house. There is a garage in the back of it and it has a jeep and a yellow corvette. The grounds of the house contain a very kept up yard with a spiral bush that has been manicured to look just right. The house is also a keeper of an underground pool. It is guarded by a fence, but at night the lights come on around it, and it looks to be very exciting and refreshing.
That is the funny thing about this house. I never see anyone out of the house during the day time. It is like no one actually lives there. However, when the sun comes down there is a family that seems to come out and play on the well kept yard. This is why I think it would be a place for a great tale. I am sure there could be a wonderful story that is kept with the house.
That is the funny thing about this house. I never see anyone out of the house during the day time. It is like no one actually lives there. However, when the sun comes down there is a family that seems to come out and play on the well kept yard. This is why I think it would be a place for a great tale. I am sure there could be a wonderful story that is kept with the house.
The atmosphere of the house truly cultivates the ground for a good story. For a story that is worth reading.
If the house was a ranch house, or a split level, or even a two story house the story wouldn’t match. Those simple houses are seen everywhere. There is no significance, and no uniqueness behind them. They cultivate good stories, but not stories that change your life. Not stories that refresh your soul.
The church has the ability to do the same thing. They have the ability to create an atmosphere that gives way to a life changing story. The church can truly, and I think has the command to create the atmosphere of life change, through prayer, through scripture, through community, and through story. However, if the church is not creating this atmosphere, the life changing story will get missed in the emotionally charged music, in the good intentions, in the scripture filled service. If we are not living out the story and creating an atmosphere in our own lives, creating space for the Holy Spirit to move, then we will never be able to communicate the life change. We as the church need to stop depending on our church service, we need to stop depending on the alter call to wrap people into the story. We need to individually create the atmosphere for the story to move.
The church has the ability to do the same thing. They have the ability to create an atmosphere that gives way to a life changing story. The church can truly, and I think has the command to create the atmosphere of life change, through prayer, through scripture, through community, and through story. However, if the church is not creating this atmosphere, the life changing story will get missed in the emotionally charged music, in the good intentions, in the scripture filled service. If we are not living out the story and creating an atmosphere in our own lives, creating space for the Holy Spirit to move, then we will never be able to communicate the life change. We as the church need to stop depending on our church service, we need to stop depending on the alter call to wrap people into the story. We need to individually create the atmosphere for the story to move.
Friday, August 28, 2009
The best way to make a cake is to make it with a small amount of love. That is actually the best way to make any baked good. Of course most baked goods taste absolutely amazing, but only those make with love have a lasting taste.
So, the next time you make a wonderful dish for someone special add add a little extra love.
Lack of courage.
Where has the courage gone in the local church? There is no courage or risk left in the local, small town church. All we have left are mirrored images of what was courage and strength. This mirrored image is shallow and it reflects a time that courage was needed for a certain culture. But, that culture has washed away and we are in a new time. A new place that needs a new, fresh, deep courage. This old mirrored courage is lost in the fifties, sixties, even the seventies, but it has no place for today. It has no place in a world where those past issues are past issues. So many people get lost in the issues.
They get lost in their dark passions in the streets and in the alley ways of caution. They would rather keep the individual happy rather than enhance community development. They would rather stink up the local church with despair and stagnancy than jump in the cleansing waters of risk.
These men don’t proclaim the courage they so long for. They do not capture the holiness that could be. They instead let time pass by with the sensitivity of a street whore. They grab you by the collar and tell you secrets, things that will change you if you give of yourself. Then you follow them into the sacred of places and you find cheap, quick, instant gratification. But, nothing that lasts. Nothing worth writing home about. Nothing really worth remembering. And after the short meaningless exchange you find yourself wandering about and wondering what else could be fulfilling, because what you just had was short and silly. You seek longevity. You seek something honorable and pure. Something that is worthy of your time. You seek a wedding night that is holy and worthwhile, unlike the sloppiness you find on the streets.
The church needs to stop losing itself on the streets of the world. The men need to stop throwing such grandiose words around about change and wonder, if all they do is talk. There is no courage in these men, there is no risk. They are short winded, sad tales of men who are mirrored images of what once was. And, when there time passes they will be giving the next generation a lesson of what once was. So, that the courage in these small towns will only be seen by the people who refuse to commit to this half hearted misery.
They get lost in their dark passions in the streets and in the alley ways of caution. They would rather keep the individual happy rather than enhance community development. They would rather stink up the local church with despair and stagnancy than jump in the cleansing waters of risk.
These men don’t proclaim the courage they so long for. They do not capture the holiness that could be. They instead let time pass by with the sensitivity of a street whore. They grab you by the collar and tell you secrets, things that will change you if you give of yourself. Then you follow them into the sacred of places and you find cheap, quick, instant gratification. But, nothing that lasts. Nothing worth writing home about. Nothing really worth remembering. And after the short meaningless exchange you find yourself wandering about and wondering what else could be fulfilling, because what you just had was short and silly. You seek longevity. You seek something honorable and pure. Something that is worthy of your time. You seek a wedding night that is holy and worthwhile, unlike the sloppiness you find on the streets.
The church needs to stop losing itself on the streets of the world. The men need to stop throwing such grandiose words around about change and wonder, if all they do is talk. There is no courage in these men, there is no risk. They are short winded, sad tales of men who are mirrored images of what once was. And, when there time passes they will be giving the next generation a lesson of what once was. So, that the courage in these small towns will only be seen by the people who refuse to commit to this half hearted misery.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
I have never experienced a transition like this before. I have always had a hard time with transitions.
Every new beginning, every new move, every new ending takes a toll on my soul. It is almost like I go through a week or two of despair.
I don't want to get out of bed, I become extremely fatalistic, and I basically become a troll loitering under my own bridge of self pity.
Then I get into a routine and I am fine.
But, this transition was very different. It seems to be that this transition has moved through our lives in such a smooth way.
It's actually quite bizarre.
However, I think i know what has happened.
I think many men and women who find themselves following Christ find themselves in the desert. They find themselves in a dry place, an arid place, a place that almost starves their soul to death.
But in this desert they seem to come across this contemplative peace. This world that is surrounded by inner understanding. Almost and inner rest. But, this rest does not come from any thing or anyone in particular. It comes from the loneliness that they entered into the desert. This loneliness leads them into the desert and it is turned into a contemplative spirit by the power of the Holy Spirit. They find that the loneliness they had for their friends, their families, their school, their old life, has been deserted. They no longer need those things because they have found the ultimate rest in the life of Christ. Even their greatest love is faint in comparison to their life found in Christ.
Everything and everyone seems almost dispensable.
Everyone and everything are Christ's too. That is the biggest comfort. That is where the soul rests. In the reality and the truth of Christ's sovereignty. The lonely person does not have to put her worth, her value, her comfort in the things or people around her, because they will all fade away in time. However, this world and all the people in it are created and formed by Christ and therefore, are His.
I do not have to worry, or lament, or wonder about the people I love, because they have Christ and Christ has them.
Every new beginning, every new move, every new ending takes a toll on my soul. It is almost like I go through a week or two of despair.
I don't want to get out of bed, I become extremely fatalistic, and I basically become a troll loitering under my own bridge of self pity.
Then I get into a routine and I am fine.
But, this transition was very different. It seems to be that this transition has moved through our lives in such a smooth way.
It's actually quite bizarre.
However, I think i know what has happened.
I think many men and women who find themselves following Christ find themselves in the desert. They find themselves in a dry place, an arid place, a place that almost starves their soul to death.
But in this desert they seem to come across this contemplative peace. This world that is surrounded by inner understanding. Almost and inner rest. But, this rest does not come from any thing or anyone in particular. It comes from the loneliness that they entered into the desert. This loneliness leads them into the desert and it is turned into a contemplative spirit by the power of the Holy Spirit. They find that the loneliness they had for their friends, their families, their school, their old life, has been deserted. They no longer need those things because they have found the ultimate rest in the life of Christ. Even their greatest love is faint in comparison to their life found in Christ.
Everything and everyone seems almost dispensable.
Everyone and everything are Christ's too. That is the biggest comfort. That is where the soul rests. In the reality and the truth of Christ's sovereignty. The lonely person does not have to put her worth, her value, her comfort in the things or people around her, because they will all fade away in time. However, this world and all the people in it are created and formed by Christ and therefore, are His.
I do not have to worry, or lament, or wonder about the people I love, because they have Christ and Christ has them.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
CHCH...what's missing? UR
I have come to realize that their are two existing realities in North America in regards to the church. The first reality is the church plant and the second reality is the small town church. I am choosing to ignore the stereotypes of both of these groups in this blog so that I might be able to connect the two in a healthy way.
When approaching a church planter we will find someone who is a risk taker. Someone who loves people and someone who sees a need in a certain city or town for Jesus to become renewed and relived out. We find the church planters work in teams so that they will be encouraged through the tough process. Often we have church planters who plant in towns where you could easily turn around and spit and hit another church. Church planters use technology and marketing to reach people.
When approaching a small town church we will often find earnest, seeking people who long for their friends, neighbors, and loved ones to get the big picture. We find the pastor who is a scripture teacher, a hospital visitor, and a lone ranger. Often the pastor is lonely and doesn't connect well with the congregation in regards to his own spiritual accountability. Small town churches have history with every church in the town and usually that history is not positive. The small town church is almost always behind the times in regards to technology and marketing.
So, how do we combine these two movements?
I think the reality is that church planting needs to look different in small towns. I think it is necessary and I truly believe if the church in small towns needs church planting or it will shrivel up and die. I also truly believe that the church planting world needs the small town churches or they will lose the humanity behind their movement.
I think we combine these movements by the church planting world recognizing it needs to transform into something different to meet the needs of the small church.
This needs to look like directed and intentional small groups. Small churches attract people from different towns and the church planter needs to capitalize these people and to train them to reproduce small groups in their own towns.
Through this small church have the potential to grow and church planting has the potential to attack a new challenge, and God has a chance to move.
When approaching a church planter we will find someone who is a risk taker. Someone who loves people and someone who sees a need in a certain city or town for Jesus to become renewed and relived out. We find the church planters work in teams so that they will be encouraged through the tough process. Often we have church planters who plant in towns where you could easily turn around and spit and hit another church. Church planters use technology and marketing to reach people.
When approaching a small town church we will often find earnest, seeking people who long for their friends, neighbors, and loved ones to get the big picture. We find the pastor who is a scripture teacher, a hospital visitor, and a lone ranger. Often the pastor is lonely and doesn't connect well with the congregation in regards to his own spiritual accountability. Small town churches have history with every church in the town and usually that history is not positive. The small town church is almost always behind the times in regards to technology and marketing.
So, how do we combine these two movements?
I think the reality is that church planting needs to look different in small towns. I think it is necessary and I truly believe if the church in small towns needs church planting or it will shrivel up and die. I also truly believe that the church planting world needs the small town churches or they will lose the humanity behind their movement.
I think we combine these movements by the church planting world recognizing it needs to transform into something different to meet the needs of the small church.
This needs to look like directed and intentional small groups. Small churches attract people from different towns and the church planter needs to capitalize these people and to train them to reproduce small groups in their own towns.
Through this small church have the potential to grow and church planting has the potential to attack a new challenge, and God has a chance to move.
Friday, August 21, 2009
The Move
My husband and I just moved to Christopher, Il. The church gave us a moving allowance so we decided to rent a Uhaul and buy some Uhaul boxes. My wonderful brother came down to help pack us up and on Monday, August 16th we moved.
When we showed up the previous tenants of the house we were going to rent were still living in the house. So, we stayed with a couple from the church. The next day we got the opportunity to move into our rental home. When we walked in the smell hit us first. It was a mixture of dirt, old cigarette smoke, and putridity. We walked around and noticed the 70's shag carpet, the pink toilet and bath tub and the completely dirty shower floor. Waylon saw it on my face. I was not looking forward to living in this house.
I decided to take my discouraged, disturbed spirit to WalMart to get cleaning supplies. I was cranky and my head hurt. I got the cleaning supplies and headed back to find an army of women and men from the church cleaning our house. What a blessing.
However, I was still hot, as we do not have air conditioning, so after the cleaning, the chemicals, and the unloading, I got sick. I laid on my bed in such a melo-dramatic state and lapped around in my self pity. Oh, poor me.
I made the choice to be thankful for this house. I made the choice to get up and unpack and to start making this house our transitional home.
I made the choice to put pictures on the semi clean walls, to put dishes in the semi clean cabinets, and to wear flip flops. I will not pity the blessing of a place to live.
But, I still had to make the choice, and since I have made the choice I can be content in our stinky house. My eyes have also been opened to the great blessings we have received in the last week.
First blessing; we had help cleaning and unloading our truck. We started at ten and we had the house clean and the truck unloaded by one thirty.
Second blessing; the church came together and bought us food to fill our cabinets.
Third blessing; we are receiving a washer and a dryer on Monday.
Fourth blessing; a wonderful women from the church came and took us out to dinner Tuesday night to the local pizza place.
Fifth blessing; the local pizza place.
Sixth blessing; We drove down the road for a while and found a quaint, Internet free, coffee shop. This is my recent blessing because I love coffee shops and I love coffee!
Seventh blessing; Waylon and I have gotten closer through this move.
Eighth blessing; The church.
So, all in all we have such a sense of peace and contentment in regards to where we are as a couple and as disciples of Christ. I have a hard time following Christ with Waylon, but I feel like God continues to shower us with his living water even when we are in the desert.
When we showed up the previous tenants of the house we were going to rent were still living in the house. So, we stayed with a couple from the church. The next day we got the opportunity to move into our rental home. When we walked in the smell hit us first. It was a mixture of dirt, old cigarette smoke, and putridity. We walked around and noticed the 70's shag carpet, the pink toilet and bath tub and the completely dirty shower floor. Waylon saw it on my face. I was not looking forward to living in this house.
I decided to take my discouraged, disturbed spirit to WalMart to get cleaning supplies. I was cranky and my head hurt. I got the cleaning supplies and headed back to find an army of women and men from the church cleaning our house. What a blessing.
However, I was still hot, as we do not have air conditioning, so after the cleaning, the chemicals, and the unloading, I got sick. I laid on my bed in such a melo-dramatic state and lapped around in my self pity. Oh, poor me.
I made the choice to be thankful for this house. I made the choice to get up and unpack and to start making this house our transitional home.
I made the choice to put pictures on the semi clean walls, to put dishes in the semi clean cabinets, and to wear flip flops. I will not pity the blessing of a place to live.
But, I still had to make the choice, and since I have made the choice I can be content in our stinky house. My eyes have also been opened to the great blessings we have received in the last week.
First blessing; we had help cleaning and unloading our truck. We started at ten and we had the house clean and the truck unloaded by one thirty.
Second blessing; the church came together and bought us food to fill our cabinets.
Third blessing; we are receiving a washer and a dryer on Monday.
Fourth blessing; a wonderful women from the church came and took us out to dinner Tuesday night to the local pizza place.
Fifth blessing; the local pizza place.
Sixth blessing; We drove down the road for a while and found a quaint, Internet free, coffee shop. This is my recent blessing because I love coffee shops and I love coffee!
Seventh blessing; Waylon and I have gotten closer through this move.
Eighth blessing; The church.
So, all in all we have such a sense of peace and contentment in regards to where we are as a couple and as disciples of Christ. I have a hard time following Christ with Waylon, but I feel like God continues to shower us with his living water even when we are in the desert.
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