I am alternately angry and sad today. I keep reminding myself that satan is a loser. He does not win. That is good and comforting truth for the long run, but here, today, in the short run, I'm just mad. And sad. He does not fight fair. When I recognize the work of evil coming against me, I am annoyed. I roll my eyes and feel foolish for letting my feathers get ruffled, and make a fresh determination to fix my eyes on Jesus. Today, however, I recognize that someone near to me is under attack in a very unfair way, and I'm so angry. And sad.
I'd be angry and sad if it was just this one person. But the fact that this comes after a string of similar stories coming from godly people all around me, just has me fit to be tied today.
And just when I think the anger or the sadness might take over, another emotions sneaks up on me. Joy.
Here's the deal about spiritual warfare. There's lots of stuff I don't know about it, but there's one thing I know for sure. It only comes when I'm headed in the right direction. Satan and his demons couldn't care less when I'm walking in disobedience or living a mediocre life that's not going to impact anyone here or in eternity. And, the only way I can rejoice over that fact is when my relationship with Jesus is such that pleasing Him truly matters more to me than living in ease and without pain or trial. And, I praise God that the friends I've shared that thought with today have agreed with me. Jesus is better.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Praying about Storms
I have a lot of family that live on the south Texas coast, all the way from South Padre Island to Corpus Christi to Houston. I am naturally concerned anytime a hurricane enters the Gulf of Mexico, aware that someone about whom I care deeply could be affected. This week, as the world watches Tropical Storm Alex travel into the Gulf, I have received a number of emails suggesting that we pray for it to miss the Rio Grande Valley or Corpus Christi, hoping that the trajectories showing the storm take a southern turn are correct. And, it's occurred to me that this is a difficult thing for me to pray. I can pray that my loved ones are safe. I can pray that the storm dissipates in the Gulf. I can pray that the winds die down or that structures withstand the force. I cannot pray that the storm miss them and hit others, particularly, that it miss the US Coast and hit Mexico. Not only does Mexico have a much higher poverty rate than most of the US, statistics say that less than 2% of its population claim to be born again Christians. I cannot find it in me to pray for a devastating storm to pass over my loved ones who have means to protect themselves and/or get out of the way as well as eternal security in their relationship with Jesus Christ and hope that it strikes others much more likely to lose their homes and/or their lives with much higher consequences at stake. I just can't do it. :-/
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Love and Humility
For someone who averages about one trip to the doctor's office every 12-18 months, 2010 is shaping up to be a very odd year. In the first six months that I have lived alone, I've already been to the doctor 3 times for three very different issues, and I have had to ask for help from others on several different occasions. It's never a good thing when the doctor looks at you and says, "You're single, right? Live alone? Do you have a very good friend nearby?":-/ Asking for help is hard enough. Asking for help when you're nauseated or in pain or need wound care at odd or inconvenient hours is an entirely different level of humility. And, both times, I have come away from the experience with one repeating thought, "I have been loved well." It's the only way I know to say it. I am deeply moved by the realization that I have been blessed with friends who love me when I have absolutely nothing to give in return. In those moments, I am completely without offering. I feel terribly unworthy, unlovable -- and yet, that is when I know better, deeper, most profoundly that I am, in the most simple term, loved. It seems to me that when we're "on top of the world" everyone "loves" us, but it's when we're hanging out in the depths that it is a priceless thing to find a friend still standing close.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Reflecting on the Beatitudes
Tonight at The Commons, we were "dragging the hook of the kingdom" through Matthew 5:1-10, more commonly known as The Beatitudes. Corey, who was leading the conversation, did an excellent job of helping us gain a more clear understanding of what each of the statements means,
Blessed are the poor in spirit, those who recognize their own poverty of spirit and need for a Savior
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven, they get to live in the present reality and future hope of God's reign.
Blessed are those who mourn, those who grieve over their sin and how it grieves the heart of God
for they will be comforted, they will know that God's grace is deeper than their sin.
Blessed are the meek, those who have a humble disposition before the Lord
for they will inherit the earth, they will be lifted up in due time.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who seek God for relationship's sake rather than their own glory
for they will be filled, they will have as much of Him as they desire.
Blessed are the merciful, those who demonstrate toward others
for the will be shown mercy, they will see understand with greater clarity the mercy they've been shown.
Blessed are the pure in heart, those whose heart intentions and actions are aligned with their desire to please God
for they will see God, they will recognize God at work in and around them and experience an increased intimacy with Him
Blessed are the peacemakers, those who actively strive to convey the message of reconciliation between God and man
for they will be called sons of God, they will be known as God's children carrying out His message.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, those who suffer for choosing to live rightly set apart as unto the Lord
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven, they live - both now and in eternity - under the blessed rule and reign of Christ.
The most profound thing that occurred to me tonight as we looked at this very familiar passage came toward the end of our conversation. I'd been jotting down notes, and all of a sudden, I looked down the list of " "beatitudes" and noticed a pattern. I believe there may very well be a progression as you move through the list.
Those who recognize their poverty of spirit, mourn over their sin, and therefore, adopt a disposition of humility before God. The humbled and aware of their need, they hunger and thirst for right relationship with God. Having been granted the the gift of that righteousness that is not their own but the gift of God, they freely demonstrate mercy toward others in need of the same gift. Their righteousness allows them to approach God with purity of heart and mind and to commit themselves to proclaiming the message of peace with God (reconciliation) for which they are persecuted, yet able to rejoice having inherited an eternal reward.
I don't know if this makes sense to anyone else, but it really resonated with me. As we looked over the list and began discussing which ones we were "good" at or "bad" at, I began to think about my own life and realize that until I truly understood "poor in Spirit" and my need for a Savior, I never stood a chance at understanding or developing anything else on the list. I couldn't mourn over my sin apart from that understanding. I couldn't be humble before the Lord as long as I was still clinging to pride. I couldn't hunger and thirst for Christ's righteousness until I understood that I had none of my own. I couldn't show mercy to others until I understood how much mercy I'd been shown. I couldn't align my heart with my actions in a pure way before the Lord until I understood that obedience was about a desire to please Him not impress Him or others. I couldn't actively proclaim the message of peace until I'd experienced genuine peace with God. And, I'd never rejoice through persecution if I didn't consider the rule and reign of my precious Savior to be the utmost reward.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, those who recognize their own poverty of spirit and need for a Savior
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven, they get to live in the present reality and future hope of God's reign.
Blessed are those who mourn, those who grieve over their sin and how it grieves the heart of God
for they will be comforted, they will know that God's grace is deeper than their sin.
Blessed are the meek, those who have a humble disposition before the Lord
for they will inherit the earth, they will be lifted up in due time.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who seek God for relationship's sake rather than their own glory
for they will be filled, they will have as much of Him as they desire.
Blessed are the merciful, those who demonstrate toward others
for the will be shown mercy, they will see understand with greater clarity the mercy they've been shown.
Blessed are the pure in heart, those whose heart intentions and actions are aligned with their desire to please God
for they will see God, they will recognize God at work in and around them and experience an increased intimacy with Him
Blessed are the peacemakers, those who actively strive to convey the message of reconciliation between God and man
for they will be called sons of God, they will be known as God's children carrying out His message.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, those who suffer for choosing to live rightly set apart as unto the Lord
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven, they live - both now and in eternity - under the blessed rule and reign of Christ.
The most profound thing that occurred to me tonight as we looked at this very familiar passage came toward the end of our conversation. I'd been jotting down notes, and all of a sudden, I looked down the list of " "beatitudes" and noticed a pattern. I believe there may very well be a progression as you move through the list.
Those who recognize their poverty of spirit, mourn over their sin, and therefore, adopt a disposition of humility before God. The humbled and aware of their need, they hunger and thirst for right relationship with God. Having been granted the the gift of that righteousness that is not their own but the gift of God, they freely demonstrate mercy toward others in need of the same gift. Their righteousness allows them to approach God with purity of heart and mind and to commit themselves to proclaiming the message of peace with God (reconciliation) for which they are persecuted, yet able to rejoice having inherited an eternal reward.
I don't know if this makes sense to anyone else, but it really resonated with me. As we looked over the list and began discussing which ones we were "good" at or "bad" at, I began to think about my own life and realize that until I truly understood "poor in Spirit" and my need for a Savior, I never stood a chance at understanding or developing anything else on the list. I couldn't mourn over my sin apart from that understanding. I couldn't be humble before the Lord as long as I was still clinging to pride. I couldn't hunger and thirst for Christ's righteousness until I understood that I had none of my own. I couldn't show mercy to others until I understood how much mercy I'd been shown. I couldn't align my heart with my actions in a pure way before the Lord until I understood that obedience was about a desire to please Him not impress Him or others. I couldn't actively proclaim the message of peace until I'd experienced genuine peace with God. And, I'd never rejoice through persecution if I didn't consider the rule and reign of my precious Savior to be the utmost reward.
Monday, June 21, 2010
New Morning, New Attitude
Can I just say that I personally think one of the most brilliant things God ever did was create mornings? I mean seriously. We get to start over every single day.
I woke up this morning and not a single thing had changed about my circumstances and the things that had me so miserably frustrated last night, but somehow, knowing I had a whole new day to approach it energized me afresh. I got to lay there before I even opened my eyes and repent of all of yesterday's temper tantrums and commit afresh to walking graciously through whatever today brings. I got to wash my face and brush my teeth and pick out clean clothes and remind myself of all the things that do matter and repent of all the things that don't.
And, I was reminded of Psalm 17:15, As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness.
I woke up this morning and not a single thing had changed about my circumstances and the things that had me so miserably frustrated last night, but somehow, knowing I had a whole new day to approach it energized me afresh. I got to lay there before I even opened my eyes and repent of all of yesterday's temper tantrums and commit afresh to walking graciously through whatever today brings. I got to wash my face and brush my teeth and pick out clean clothes and remind myself of all the things that do matter and repent of all the things that don't.
And, I was reminded of Psalm 17:15, As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Some People Don't Believe I Get Grumpy
My morning began with the song "Blessed Be Your Name." As we sang the line, Blessed be your name when the sun's shining down on me, when the world's all as it should be ... I thought, "Yes! That's today, Lord. Things are GOOD. You are good. Blessed be your name!" I didn't think it lightly, either. I've sung that song plenty of times with tears streaming down my face as I choked out the words Blessed be your name on a road marked with suffering, though there's pain in the offering, Blessed be your name. I never take for granted the days when I can sing the words with joy.
After church, I met my mom and dad for lunch, and felt really privileged to be able to actually buy their meal for once! We had a great visit, and I was in a great mood as I got back to my apartment early in the afternoon.
Then I discovered the broken hot water heater I called maintenance about had not been fixed. And the cover to the light fixture in the shower was still laying on the bathroom floor. Then I lost my phone and was forced to use facebook to find someone to call it for me which always frustrates me. My day was going downhill fast. I had a brief recovery when Erin and I made a trip to the mall for some window shopping and a snowcone. But, I came back home to fix dinner and had a mom-question. I reached for my phone, sitting on top of my purse on the counter just over my kitchen sink. As I pulled the phone away from the purse, it slipped from my hand, bounced off the counter top, and dropped right to the bottom of the coffee pot full of water sitting in the sink. And, now it is dead. And, I am in a seriously foul mood. And I can't even call and whine about it to anyone - which is by far the worst punishment for a verbal processor.
Earlier, I was shopping online for a new laptop I've convinced myself I really do need. Now, I'm shopping for a replacement phone instead because when I bought this one about 8 months ago, I told myself (and the store clerk) in one of my more genius moments that I didn't want insurance since I'd never used my cell phone insurance in the past and this was by far the cheapest phone I'd bought yet, so I definitely wasn't going to insure it. Doh!
I want to just be grumpy. I want to believe I have an excuse to just be grumpy. And throw a big ol' pity party. And wallow in it. Dia would tell me to go in the closet and pick out a new attitude. My mom would tell me to put my big girl panties on and deal with it. My great grandmother would have told me I could get glad in the same clothes I got mad in. Angela would tell me a sad story about finding a spider in her house, and hope feeling sorry for her made me feel less pitiful for me (it didn't).
And, all evening long, a bridge keeps playing in my head ... You give and take away, You give and take away, My heart will choose to say: Blessed be Your name!
This is not a road marked with suffering. It's just a hitch in my giddy-up. I do think I'll go to bed early and hope things look better in the morning, though -- just in case.
By the way, the hot water mysteriously started working again about 30 minutes ago.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
I Call Him Daddy
A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows,is God in his holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families,he leads forth the prisoners with singing ... Psalm 68:5-6
Father's Day sometimes makes me feel a little guilty. I had no say in choosing my father, and yet, I managed to get one of the finest men around -- and I'm the ONLY one in the whole world who gets to call him Daddy. It's staggering really when I think about it. And, it makes me feel like I'm bragging when I talk about him - 'cause I kinda am.
However, it's impossible in my line of work -- or really, just as a citizen of humanity -- not to think about those who don't have this wonderful swelling pride that bubbles up at Father's Day. Unfortunately, I often feel like I know more people than not who don't exactly feel all warm and fuzzy when this day roles around.
This year, as I've thought about something new I could say about my wondeful Dad, I've been thinking about his influence in the lives of others. David Horton is a world class counselor, mentor, and friend. And, he's funny. People seek him out on a regular basis because of this. And, he patiently listens and provides wise and gentle feedback.
This Father's Day, I may be the only one who gets to call him "Daddy" but I am aware that there are many whom the Lord has blessed by placing him in their paths, giving them a surrogate father and family - some for a season, others for a life time. And, I know, that like me, they too will have a clearer picture of their Heavenly Father because of it.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Coming Up Short
In the practice of confession this week, I was treading very slowly, choosing my words with extra care. My sister finally said, "spit it out, my ears can handle it!" Chagrined, I admitted, "it's not your ears I worry about; it's my own dignity I'm still trying to preserve." I've thought about that conversation a lot. The absurdity of my attempts to confess my own wickedness while maintaining some semblance of respectability would be comical if it were not so pitiable.
She graciously heard what I needed to say, listened carefully, without passing judgment, then boiled it all down to a simple statement that I hope will haunt me for a long time to come. "At some point, you're going to have to decide if you love your sin or if you love Christ."
I've known for a long time now that I am guilty of stopping short of radical. I want enough of Jesus to be usable. Even better, I want to be "blessable." But, I always shy away from crossing the line into radical.
The problem is, there's no such thing. I've drawn a false line. I can't be usable or blessable without being radical. I can be dignified. I can have the respect of persons. I can own nice things. I can hold honored positions. I can bask in my meager accomplishments. But, I cannot be Spirit-filled, Christlike, God-glorifiying without full surrender of myself, my will, and my delusions of dignity.
It is a strange thing to fear and yet crave the humbling that I know must come. I cannot pray daily to love what God loves and hate what He hates, then expect that He would allow any amount of pride to go unmortified.
She graciously heard what I needed to say, listened carefully, without passing judgment, then boiled it all down to a simple statement that I hope will haunt me for a long time to come. "At some point, you're going to have to decide if you love your sin or if you love Christ."
I've known for a long time now that I am guilty of stopping short of radical. I want enough of Jesus to be usable. Even better, I want to be "blessable." But, I always shy away from crossing the line into radical.
The problem is, there's no such thing. I've drawn a false line. I can't be usable or blessable without being radical. I can be dignified. I can have the respect of persons. I can own nice things. I can hold honored positions. I can bask in my meager accomplishments. But, I cannot be Spirit-filled, Christlike, God-glorifiying without full surrender of myself, my will, and my delusions of dignity.
It is a strange thing to fear and yet crave the humbling that I know must come. I cannot pray daily to love what God loves and hate what He hates, then expect that He would allow any amount of pride to go unmortified.
May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world. Galatians 6:14
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Adventures in Volunteer Direction
At the very top of the application we have all new volunteers fill out, there are three blanks:
Date of Application: ___________ Orientation: ________________ Tour: ___________________
To be fair, most people don't know what to put in those second two categories, so they generally leave them blank. (They are places for me to mark the date and initials of the person who provides the volunteer orientation and tour.)
Occasionally, though, some over-achiever decides to think really hard and make their best guess at what goes in those blanks. Generally, I get a "yes" or "no" next to the tour line, and more often than you'd imagine I get the word "straight" next to orientation. Today, however, I picked up an application with the word "black" next to orientation.
Seriously? A) I don't think it's remotely appropriate or necessary for me to know someone's race or ethnicity in order for them to volunteer for us. B) If I were going to ask for that information in an application, would I really put it on the very top line of the form? And refer to it as "orientation"? Really???
And I was worried my job wouldn't be as interesting working with volunteers rather than clients ...
Date of Application: ___________ Orientation: ________________ Tour: ___________________
To be fair, most people don't know what to put in those second two categories, so they generally leave them blank. (They are places for me to mark the date and initials of the person who provides the volunteer orientation and tour.)
Occasionally, though, some over-achiever decides to think really hard and make their best guess at what goes in those blanks. Generally, I get a "yes" or "no" next to the tour line, and more often than you'd imagine I get the word "straight" next to orientation. Today, however, I picked up an application with the word "black" next to orientation.
Seriously? A) I don't think it's remotely appropriate or necessary for me to know someone's race or ethnicity in order for them to volunteer for us. B) If I were going to ask for that information in an application, would I really put it on the very top line of the form? And refer to it as "orientation"? Really???
And I was worried my job wouldn't be as interesting working with volunteers rather than clients ...
Thursday, June 03, 2010
Papa's Antics
It has been well-documented on this blog that I love my Papa -- and that I might be a little bit like him. This weekend, my family is gathering to celebrate my cousin Gina's wedding, and the festivities began today. While I arrived in Harlingen this morning, I didn't get to see Papa until dinner time. But, in the last four hours, he's provided more bloggable entertainment than I'll ever be able to record if I wait until I get home!
1. He showed up at dinner with a mini satellite TV in his shirt pocket. FOX News was glowing from his chest, and blaring, but he was so wound up, he didn't even hear it, just kept talking over it until we asked him to turn it down. Then, he muted the TV but left it turned on and kept right on talking. Karen captured the moment for me -- if you look closely at Papa's left shirt pocket, you'll see what I'm talking about. (Pay no attention to Gina -- not only is she the bride, today was also her birthday, so she was hamming it up!)
1. He showed up at dinner with a mini satellite TV in his shirt pocket. FOX News was glowing from his chest, and blaring, but he was so wound up, he didn't even hear it, just kept talking over it until we asked him to turn it down. Then, he muted the TV but left it turned on and kept right on talking. Karen captured the moment for me -- if you look closely at Papa's left shirt pocket, you'll see what I'm talking about. (Pay no attention to Gina -- not only is she the bride, today was also her birthday, so she was hamming it up!)
2. Papa was so excited about meeting new "family" -- Gina's in-laws -- that he talked nonstop throughout our entire meal. The rest of us were eating ice cream before he'd even looked down to take a bite. At one point, Uncle Vance, stole his plate. When Papa looked down, a little confused, Nana asked him, "Gene, did you eat your sandwich?" And he honestly said, "I don't know. I think I might have." LOL! We packed the sandwich up in a to-go box, and he brought it home, then offered it to me as a late night snack -- it's still sitting on the counter.
3. On the ride home from dinner Papa informed me that he's got someone he wants me to meet. I'm thinking a lady in their church who does women's ministry or something like this ... He then proceeds to tell me about a "fine young man" in their congregation that loves Jesus. Papa knows this because this man carries his Bible with him (to church) and it looks like it's been used. He hopes this man will come to Gina's wedding because Papa invited him. Those of you who think match-making parents are trouble -- just wait till your grandparents get in on the game!
4. At the house, where Nana and Papa have lived for a good 25 years, he proceeded to show me the way around, including lessons on how to leave the light on in the bathroom in case I think I might need it in the middle of the night, how to turn the a/c up and down, and how to use their home phone (even after I told him I had my cell phone with me).
5. Nana and I were sitting on my bed visiting when Papa came to get me to rescue him from his "computer emergency." He'd somehow gotten a folder full of pictures stuck in the sidebar of his desktop and couldn't figure out how to get it off there. He said he let it frustrate him for a few days, then he remembered "the cavalry is coming" and waited for me to arrive. I figured it out relatively quickly, and he thanked me at least 5 times and told me how proud he is of me before he went to bed. It's the little things, I guess.
6. As he was shutting things down for the night, he told me NOT to turn the TV off in the living room (the one beside the "happy tree" aka: Christmas Tree that hasn't been taken down yet) -- said when he turns it off, it gets fuzzy and has to be reset, then he winked and told me, "Besides, when it dies, I can buy a new one ... a bigger one!"
This is just Day One, folks.
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
In Case You Need to Be Reminded
I am blessed to work in a place where people pray together, regularly. Each Wednesday morning, we are invited to meet together for prayer and devotions led by various staff members. Today, our administrative assistant shared from Isaiah 41:18-20, then read the quote copied below. If you’re in need today of a reminder of just how extravagant God’s love and care for you are, I cannot encourage you strongly enough to shut your doors, turn down your music, and read these words aloud.
I will make rivers flow on barren heights,
and springs within the valleys.
I will turn the desert into pools of water,
and the parched ground into springs.
I will put in the desert
the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive.
I will set pines in the wasteland,
the fir and the cypress together,
so that people may see and know,
may consider and understand,
that the hand of the LORD has done this,
that the Holy One of Israel has created it. - Isaiah 41:18-20
We are profoundly impressed with the unlimited resources of the God of the Bible. He never does anything small. When He makes an ocean He makes it so deep that no man can fathom it. When He makes a mountain He makes it so large that no one can measure or weigh it. When He makes flowers, He scatters multiplied millions of them where there is no one to admire them but Himself. When He makes grace, He makes it without sides or bottom and leaves the top off. Instead of giving salvation with a medicine dropper, He pours it forth like a river.
When God sets out to do a thing for us, He does it with a prodigality of love-prompted abundance that fairly staggers one who reckons things by the coldly calculating standards of earth.
I will make rivers flow on barren heights,
and springs within the valleys.
I will turn the desert into pools of water,
and the parched ground into springs.
I will put in the desert
the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive.
I will set pines in the wasteland,
the fir and the cypress together,
so that people may see and know,
may consider and understand,
that the hand of the LORD has done this,
that the Holy One of Israel has created it. - Isaiah 41:18-20
We are profoundly impressed with the unlimited resources of the God of the Bible. He never does anything small. When He makes an ocean He makes it so deep that no man can fathom it. When He makes a mountain He makes it so large that no one can measure or weigh it. When He makes flowers, He scatters multiplied millions of them where there is no one to admire them but Himself. When He makes grace, He makes it without sides or bottom and leaves the top off. Instead of giving salvation with a medicine dropper, He pours it forth like a river.
When God sets out to do a thing for us, He does it with a prodigality of love-prompted abundance that fairly staggers one who reckons things by the coldly calculating standards of earth.
Lettie B. Cowman (1870-1960)
Monday, May 31, 2010
Checklist for a Best Weekend Ever
Surprise visit from an active duty soldier - check!
Pool time - check!
Dinner on the patio at Joe T's with some of my favorite people - check!
Sunday brunch at Yogi's - check!
Sunday stroll through Central Market, Farmers Market, and Target - check!
Pool time - check!
Starbucks - check!
Prince of Persia and chips and queso at West 7th Movie Tavern with the girls - check!
One-hour massage - check!
Facelogic Facial - check!
Pool time - check!
Monday afternoon nap - check!
No alarm clock three mornings in a row - check!
Seriously. Best. Weekend. Ever!
Pool time - check!
Dinner on the patio at Joe T's with some of my favorite people - check!
Sunday brunch at Yogi's - check!
Sunday stroll through Central Market, Farmers Market, and Target - check!
Pool time - check!
Starbucks - check!
Prince of Persia and chips and queso at West 7th Movie Tavern with the girls - check!
One-hour massage - check!
Facelogic Facial - check!
Pool time - check!
Monday afternoon nap - check!
No alarm clock three mornings in a row - check!
Seriously. Best. Weekend. Ever!
Book Recommendation and Thoughts on Prayer
This afternoon I finished an autobiography by Rwandan Holocaust survivor Immaculee Ilibagiza called Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust. I picked it up for $1 last week on the clearance shelf at Half-Price books (my happy place). I was completely unprepared for how this remarkable story would move me. I should have guessed, but I didn't.
Immaculee was the 3rd of 4 children in her family, the only girl. Her parents were well-educated and well-respected in their village, and they worked very hard to provide opportunities for Immaculee and her siblings to go to school as well. When the Rwandan genocide broke out in 1994, Immaculee was on a visit home from her studies at the university. Immaculee's oldest brother survived because he was 3000 miles away studying in Senegal. Their father, mother, and two brothers were each murdered at the hands of angry militia men, neighbors who believed hate-filled propaganda and took up arms against their lifelong friends. Immaculee survived by hiding in a tiny bathroom with six other Tutsi women for 3 months, not allowed to stand or make a sound, getting by on the meager table scraps of a pastor's family. Many times during their months in that small space, angry mobs of killers ransacked the pastor's house looking specifically for Immaculee, but never noticed the door hidden behind the wardrobe in the pastor's bedroom.
It is a terrible, frightening, tragic tale, sickening to read but impossible to turn away from. I kept looking at those dates, thinking about how I was a freshman in high school that year, wondering how I was so shamefully unaware of the horror happening in this remote part of the world. It seems unthinkable.
And, yet, Immaculee's message is about forgiveness. She writes over and over again about her times of prayer and meditation, about the solace and peace the Lord provided to her even in that unimaginably tiny bathroom. She writes about how she knew that refusing to forgive, allowing the hatred to live in her heart would only turn her into the kind of devil that was tearing apart her country. She writes about repeatedly asking the Lord to take her anger from her and give her the courage to face her losses, her grief, her fear, her tormentors. She writes about many times when the Lord gave her visions and premonition of what was to come and how His gentle voice steadied her through the months and years following the genocide. She writes about how she hopes her own story of forgiveness and the freedom she's found in forgiving will help set other survivors free.
In the end, Immaculee makes mention of the fact that there are times when she misses the nearness of God she experienced in that cramped little bathroom amidst those six other women during those 3 months of terror. This was perhaps the most profound statement in her entire story.
My thought tonight is two-fold. One, in my own way, I know what she's talking about. Certainly, I've never even scratched the surface of the horror she's endured, but I know that the intimacy of God in the darkest days of my own small tragedies is something I have longed for but never found in the happier times. Two, I hope that I would not need to know those darker times again to walk in dependence on Christ. I hope that I would have mountain-moving faith even now, in the good times. That I would listen carefully for God's voice and hurry to obey as He makes His will known. I hope that I would have courage to fear nothing more than I fear Him, and that living by His counter-cultural principles would allow me to joy of pointing many to eternal Hope and all-surpassing Joy.
Immaculee was the 3rd of 4 children in her family, the only girl. Her parents were well-educated and well-respected in their village, and they worked very hard to provide opportunities for Immaculee and her siblings to go to school as well. When the Rwandan genocide broke out in 1994, Immaculee was on a visit home from her studies at the university. Immaculee's oldest brother survived because he was 3000 miles away studying in Senegal. Their father, mother, and two brothers were each murdered at the hands of angry militia men, neighbors who believed hate-filled propaganda and took up arms against their lifelong friends. Immaculee survived by hiding in a tiny bathroom with six other Tutsi women for 3 months, not allowed to stand or make a sound, getting by on the meager table scraps of a pastor's family. Many times during their months in that small space, angry mobs of killers ransacked the pastor's house looking specifically for Immaculee, but never noticed the door hidden behind the wardrobe in the pastor's bedroom.
It is a terrible, frightening, tragic tale, sickening to read but impossible to turn away from. I kept looking at those dates, thinking about how I was a freshman in high school that year, wondering how I was so shamefully unaware of the horror happening in this remote part of the world. It seems unthinkable.
And, yet, Immaculee's message is about forgiveness. She writes over and over again about her times of prayer and meditation, about the solace and peace the Lord provided to her even in that unimaginably tiny bathroom. She writes about how she knew that refusing to forgive, allowing the hatred to live in her heart would only turn her into the kind of devil that was tearing apart her country. She writes about repeatedly asking the Lord to take her anger from her and give her the courage to face her losses, her grief, her fear, her tormentors. She writes about many times when the Lord gave her visions and premonition of what was to come and how His gentle voice steadied her through the months and years following the genocide. She writes about how she hopes her own story of forgiveness and the freedom she's found in forgiving will help set other survivors free.
In the end, Immaculee makes mention of the fact that there are times when she misses the nearness of God she experienced in that cramped little bathroom amidst those six other women during those 3 months of terror. This was perhaps the most profound statement in her entire story.
My thought tonight is two-fold. One, in my own way, I know what she's talking about. Certainly, I've never even scratched the surface of the horror she's endured, but I know that the intimacy of God in the darkest days of my own small tragedies is something I have longed for but never found in the happier times. Two, I hope that I would not need to know those darker times again to walk in dependence on Christ. I hope that I would have mountain-moving faith even now, in the good times. That I would listen carefully for God's voice and hurry to obey as He makes His will known. I hope that I would have courage to fear nothing more than I fear Him, and that living by His counter-cultural principles would allow me to joy of pointing many to eternal Hope and all-surpassing Joy.
It is good for me that I was afflicted that I might learn your statutes. Psalm 119:71
Friday, May 28, 2010
Direction
11Command and teach these things. 12Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity. 13Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to preaching and to teaching. 14Do not neglect your gift, which was given you through a prophetic message when the body of elders laid their hands on you.
15Be diligent in these matters; give yourself wholly to them, so that everyone may see your progress. 16Watch your life and doctrine closely. Persevere in them, because if you do, you will save both yourself and your hearers.
~ I Timothy 4:12-16
Thursday, May 27, 2010
I Might Be Deaf
When I was in college, I worked with a guy who had a very good ear for music, but sometimes, I felt sad for him. His ability to hear and pick out all of the finer aspects of a performance also kept him from being able to really enjoy anything less than perfection. Most of the time, I was blissfully unaware of many of the musical mistakes that often drove him right over the edge.
In recent years, I've truly tried to get better, purposefully adding variety to my musical collection, asking friends for suggestions, and trying to listen to the actual music behind the lyrics. But, alas, today I realized I might be deaf.
You see, two months ago, my car battery died and had to be replaced. I noticed immediately that my preset radio stations had to be reset, and fixed them accordingly. However, it was not until today, two months later, that I realized my bass and treble settings were also off. And, I only realized this because the thug next to me at a stop light was annoying me, and I decided to see if I could drown him out. I hit the button to adjust my settings and realized both the bass and treble were set to "0". Oops.
It was incredible how much better my radio sounded on the second half of my drive to work this morning! Amazing.
In recent years, I've truly tried to get better, purposefully adding variety to my musical collection, asking friends for suggestions, and trying to listen to the actual music behind the lyrics. But, alas, today I realized I might be deaf.
You see, two months ago, my car battery died and had to be replaced. I noticed immediately that my preset radio stations had to be reset, and fixed them accordingly. However, it was not until today, two months later, that I realized my bass and treble settings were also off. And, I only realized this because the thug next to me at a stop light was annoying me, and I decided to see if I could drown him out. I hit the button to adjust my settings and realized both the bass and treble were set to "0". Oops.
It was incredible how much better my radio sounded on the second half of my drive to work this morning! Amazing.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Memory Trouble
It's a little after 6pm, and I just realized I've only had about 3 glasses of water today. That might not seem like a very big deal to you, but it is for me. It means I forgot.
You see, a little over a month ago, I woke up super early one morning with a terrible pain radiating from my left kidney. It was by far the worst pain I've ever been in. It made me break out in a cold sweat. It made me nauseated. It made me cry for my mama! It pushed me to call a neighbor before dawn to ask for help. And, as soon as it was over, I swore I was going to change. I've never been bad about drinking water, but I grew religious about it. I limited myself to one caffeinated beverage a morning, at most. I drank water all day long from the minute I got out of bed until I thought my eyes might float out of their sockets. And, I carefully monitored my calcium intake, just in case.
Sometime over the last couple of weeks, I started to forget that pain, how sharp it was, how much I vowed to never do anything to myself that might bring it back. I slipped in an extra cup of coffee here, or a Diet Dr Pepper there. Then, this evening, as I was thinking over my day, I realized I started with a Diet DP, promising myself I'd fill my water bottle as soon as I got to work. But, work was busy, and I didn't have time to get water this morning, so before I knew it, it was lunch time, and I was in the drive thru, and a cold, sweet Dr Pepper sounded so good. I did manage to drink a bottle and a half of water this afternoon, but then I came home, made dinner, and poured a glass of raspberry lemonade. And, now, the day is almost over, and I'm far from having had the water I promised myself just a few short weeks ago.
So, I sat here a while and remembered, on purpose, the frightening pain of that morning and why that water is so important. And, I thought about the Israelites. Because that's what seminary nerds do.
Psalm 78:35 says, "They remembered that God was their Rock, that God Most High was their Redeemer." You know why they remembered that? Because they forgot. And, they had to be reminded. And, sometimes, reminders are painful. I would much rather remember and act on the fact that I need to get another drink of water at 6pm than be awakened by a painful reminder at 6am (or earlier!).
I'll let you draw your own Spiritual analogies, but I think you get the idea. It's time for me to go have some water!
You see, a little over a month ago, I woke up super early one morning with a terrible pain radiating from my left kidney. It was by far the worst pain I've ever been in. It made me break out in a cold sweat. It made me nauseated. It made me cry for my mama! It pushed me to call a neighbor before dawn to ask for help. And, as soon as it was over, I swore I was going to change. I've never been bad about drinking water, but I grew religious about it. I limited myself to one caffeinated beverage a morning, at most. I drank water all day long from the minute I got out of bed until I thought my eyes might float out of their sockets. And, I carefully monitored my calcium intake, just in case.
Sometime over the last couple of weeks, I started to forget that pain, how sharp it was, how much I vowed to never do anything to myself that might bring it back. I slipped in an extra cup of coffee here, or a Diet Dr Pepper there. Then, this evening, as I was thinking over my day, I realized I started with a Diet DP, promising myself I'd fill my water bottle as soon as I got to work. But, work was busy, and I didn't have time to get water this morning, so before I knew it, it was lunch time, and I was in the drive thru, and a cold, sweet Dr Pepper sounded so good. I did manage to drink a bottle and a half of water this afternoon, but then I came home, made dinner, and poured a glass of raspberry lemonade. And, now, the day is almost over, and I'm far from having had the water I promised myself just a few short weeks ago.
So, I sat here a while and remembered, on purpose, the frightening pain of that morning and why that water is so important. And, I thought about the Israelites. Because that's what seminary nerds do.
Psalm 78:35 says, "They remembered that God was their Rock, that God Most High was their Redeemer." You know why they remembered that? Because they forgot. And, they had to be reminded. And, sometimes, reminders are painful. I would much rather remember and act on the fact that I need to get another drink of water at 6pm than be awakened by a painful reminder at 6am (or earlier!).
I'll let you draw your own Spiritual analogies, but I think you get the idea. It's time for me to go have some water!
Monday, May 24, 2010
Angie
Today is Angela Lewis Hinkelman's birthday. And, for me, that's something wonderful to celebrate.
I get to call her Angie. That's because I fell asleep once in a van on the way back to Abilene from a Rangers' game and slobbered on her leg. We decided that very night that we either had to cease being friends or plan on being friends for life. I think we made a good decision.
For you Grey's Anatomy people out there, Angela is my person. She's who I need to tell first when good things or bad things happen in order to make them real. I literally have laughed and cried harder with her than with any other person - and for those of you who've heard me laugh till I wheeze or seen my ugly cry face, you know that's something. I call her my "appendage friend" because, truly, she is more than just my friend or my sister, she is part of me. She knows everything. She gets me. She lets me be me without making me feel stupid like nobody else in my entire life has ever fully done. Sometimes, she knows me better than I know myself -- at least, she figures out the conclusions I'm going to draw and decisions I'm going to make before I do, anyway. It's kind of annoying, frankly. ;-)
There are lots of reasons you should wish Angela was your best friend, too. She's fiercely loyal. Ridiculously and embarrassingly so some of the time. I know that sometimes she's defensive of me even when I don't deserve it, but I've decided that everyone needs someone in their corner, even when they're wrong. Angela is also incredibly accepting. For someone who struggles to accept herself and not to judge others, finding this trait in a best friend has been priceless. Angela's unwavering acceptance of me, the very best right along with the very worst, is a gift that truly amazes me all the more as time goes on. Angela is also smart, driven, successful, intelligent, likes football, and she's very funny. (Liking football and being funny are really my only requirements in a best friend, all the rest is just bonus.) And, she's a little pushy. She pushes. She pushes me when I'm ready to be done. She pushes me to do the right things and the best things and the things I'd never try if nobody was there to push me. She also used to push me to skip class and lay out by the pool, but that's a different tale. :-D
Angie, I think I could write for days and never come up with enough ways to tell you just how thankful I am for all that you are to me. In the most uncliche, cheeseless way I can possibly say it, you've been helped me see Jesus in more ways than you may ever know. Thank you.
PS -- Did I mention she also likes football?
I get to call her Angie. That's because I fell asleep once in a van on the way back to Abilene from a Rangers' game and slobbered on her leg. We decided that very night that we either had to cease being friends or plan on being friends for life. I think we made a good decision.
For you Grey's Anatomy people out there, Angela is my person. She's who I need to tell first when good things or bad things happen in order to make them real. I literally have laughed and cried harder with her than with any other person - and for those of you who've heard me laugh till I wheeze or seen my ugly cry face, you know that's something. I call her my "appendage friend" because, truly, she is more than just my friend or my sister, she is part of me. She knows everything. She gets me. She lets me be me without making me feel stupid like nobody else in my entire life has ever fully done. Sometimes, she knows me better than I know myself -- at least, she figures out the conclusions I'm going to draw and decisions I'm going to make before I do, anyway. It's kind of annoying, frankly. ;-)
There are lots of reasons you should wish Angela was your best friend, too. She's fiercely loyal. Ridiculously and embarrassingly so some of the time. I know that sometimes she's defensive of me even when I don't deserve it, but I've decided that everyone needs someone in their corner, even when they're wrong. Angela is also incredibly accepting. For someone who struggles to accept herself and not to judge others, finding this trait in a best friend has been priceless. Angela's unwavering acceptance of me, the very best right along with the very worst, is a gift that truly amazes me all the more as time goes on. Angela is also smart, driven, successful, intelligent, likes football, and she's very funny. (Liking football and being funny are really my only requirements in a best friend, all the rest is just bonus.) And, she's a little pushy. She pushes. She pushes me when I'm ready to be done. She pushes me to do the right things and the best things and the things I'd never try if nobody was there to push me. She also used to push me to skip class and lay out by the pool, but that's a different tale. :-D
Angie, I think I could write for days and never come up with enough ways to tell you just how thankful I am for all that you are to me. In the most uncliche, cheeseless way I can possibly say it, you've been helped me see Jesus in more ways than you may ever know. Thank you.
PS -- Did I mention she also likes football?
The Accidents We Made On Purpose
Discussing how to go about purposefully setting up successful home groups for a new church has had me thinking all week about the home-based Bible study groups I've been a part of that I'd consider "successful" and attempting to identify just how they got that way.
And, I've come to a very basic conclusion. Some of the very best things that happened out of those groups were unscripted. They were the overflow of the things we did on purpose.
[YOOJ] was a group of girls that met weekly for over two years. We did a few things on purpose. We purposefully called ourselves "refuge" and designed our weekly gatherings around the idea of being a safe place to retreat from life's storms in the middle of the week. We purposefully met in a home with a relaxed (often sitting on the floor) atmosphere rather than a crowded or noisy public place or a more formal classroom in a church building. We purposefully studied and memorized Scripture together, working slowly through various passages, allowing Truth time and opportunity to do its work in our hearts. We purposefully prayed with and for one another, regularly and out loud. We purposefully maintained an open group, offering new visitors a brief rundown/explanation of our inside jokes and lingo to make sure they felt included from the outset of their time with us.
Accidentally, because of those things we did on purpose, we became a safe place to "strip down" emotionally. Accidentally, we grew into a small family, deeply invested in one another's lives, celebrating and mourning numerous milestones together (birthdays, bridal showers, new jobs, new loves, broken relationships, prodigal family members, unsaved friends, deaths, mission trips, personal financial crises, graduations, moves, etc.) Accidentally, we began to take on some of the character we were studying about together. We fought for unity because we saw in Scripture where it was one of the identifying marks of the Body of Christ. Accidentally, we developed our own lingo and nicknames, often abbreviating entire lessons or concepts with simple phrases. (PTL! Glory! Crazy or Jesus? Satan is a loser.) Accidentally, we learned that some weeks it's okay to throw out the lesson in order to pull a sister into the "mush pot" and spend an elongated prayer time over her, even if that sister was the teacher.
Erin might be the bravest person I know. She's been in Bible study with me in some form or fashion for the better part of 4 years now. From [YOOJ] to G2 to Mariposa. Erin can attest to my love for gold sticker charts, index cards, nicknames, and fresh coffee as well as my penchant for dressing comfy, sitting with one leg curled under me, and sharing lots of silly stories about myself in hopes that others will share, too. And, she, can tell you those are all simple things I do on purpose, hoping for some Divine "accidents" to come along. If a gold star encourages someone to hide God's Word in her heart, buy me a whole book of 'em, and let's get going! If decorating index cards provides a place for someone to share and exchange her prayer requests, then get me a stack! (Not really, I have them stashed all over the place already!) If a fresh pot of hot coffee, helps someone want to curl up in a chair and open up about what's really going on in her life, then I'll keep it brewing. If answering the door in my sweats or my work out clothes helps put someone at ease so that we can look at one another eye to eye, somebody get me my "uniform." (Uniform = [YOOJ] speak for the black velour track suit I wore on a weekly basis for a few cold months in 2008.) And, if telling you about the goofy things I've done this week, puts a smile on your face or makes you feel the least bit less foolish for your own foibles, then by all means, let me tell you about my latest case of foot-in-mouth disease!
And, if somewhere along the way, the Lord begins to move in your heart and prayers start changing your life, and people around you start getting impacted, too, then to God be the glory, another purposeful accident has occurred!
And, I've come to a very basic conclusion. Some of the very best things that happened out of those groups were unscripted. They were the overflow of the things we did on purpose.
[YOOJ] was a group of girls that met weekly for over two years. We did a few things on purpose. We purposefully called ourselves "refuge" and designed our weekly gatherings around the idea of being a safe place to retreat from life's storms in the middle of the week. We purposefully met in a home with a relaxed (often sitting on the floor) atmosphere rather than a crowded or noisy public place or a more formal classroom in a church building. We purposefully studied and memorized Scripture together, working slowly through various passages, allowing Truth time and opportunity to do its work in our hearts. We purposefully prayed with and for one another, regularly and out loud. We purposefully maintained an open group, offering new visitors a brief rundown/explanation of our inside jokes and lingo to make sure they felt included from the outset of their time with us.
Accidentally, because of those things we did on purpose, we became a safe place to "strip down" emotionally. Accidentally, we grew into a small family, deeply invested in one another's lives, celebrating and mourning numerous milestones together (birthdays, bridal showers, new jobs, new loves, broken relationships, prodigal family members, unsaved friends, deaths, mission trips, personal financial crises, graduations, moves, etc.) Accidentally, we began to take on some of the character we were studying about together. We fought for unity because we saw in Scripture where it was one of the identifying marks of the Body of Christ. Accidentally, we developed our own lingo and nicknames, often abbreviating entire lessons or concepts with simple phrases. (PTL! Glory! Crazy or Jesus? Satan is a loser.) Accidentally, we learned that some weeks it's okay to throw out the lesson in order to pull a sister into the "mush pot" and spend an elongated prayer time over her, even if that sister was the teacher.
Erin might be the bravest person I know. She's been in Bible study with me in some form or fashion for the better part of 4 years now. From [YOOJ] to G2 to Mariposa. Erin can attest to my love for gold sticker charts, index cards, nicknames, and fresh coffee as well as my penchant for dressing comfy, sitting with one leg curled under me, and sharing lots of silly stories about myself in hopes that others will share, too. And, she, can tell you those are all simple things I do on purpose, hoping for some Divine "accidents" to come along. If a gold star encourages someone to hide God's Word in her heart, buy me a whole book of 'em, and let's get going! If decorating index cards provides a place for someone to share and exchange her prayer requests, then get me a stack! (Not really, I have them stashed all over the place already!) If a fresh pot of hot coffee, helps someone want to curl up in a chair and open up about what's really going on in her life, then I'll keep it brewing. If answering the door in my sweats or my work out clothes helps put someone at ease so that we can look at one another eye to eye, somebody get me my "uniform." (Uniform = [YOOJ] speak for the black velour track suit I wore on a weekly basis for a few cold months in 2008.) And, if telling you about the goofy things I've done this week, puts a smile on your face or makes you feel the least bit less foolish for your own foibles, then by all means, let me tell you about my latest case of foot-in-mouth disease!
And, if somewhere along the way, the Lord begins to move in your heart and prayers start changing your life, and people around you start getting impacted, too, then to God be the glory, another purposeful accident has occurred!
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Books Reviewed
Today, I finished reading two different books. Two very different books actually. I can't even tell you which one I read first because I read them simultaneously. They arrived on the same day earlier this week, and I finished them within an hour of each other this evening.
I'll start with Mike McKinley's Church Planing is For: Wimps (How God Uses Messed-Up People to Plant Ordinary Churches That Do Extraordinary Things. A friend who knows about my current adventure with a new church plant pointed me toward this book, and I purchased it more out of curiosity than anything else. I promised our lead pastor, Steve, that I'd highlight profusely, make lots of notes in the margin and share as soon I was through it. While this book is definitely geared toward pastors, I found it interesting and insightful nonetheless. As The Commons is in it's infancy, I find myself frequently adjusting my prayers for our young church, desiring what is most pleasing to the Lord and constantly thinking about what the purposes and goals for a new church ought to be as well as evaluating my own heart and motives and aptitude for this endeavor. So, reading someone else's account of their own journey as a church planter during this season seemed like a good idea. And, I think it was.
The first thing I liked about McKinley is that he's funny. I literally chuckled out loud several times in the first few pages. Of course, a lot of his humor is seminary-nerd humor, but what can I say? I am what I am. The next thing I liked about this book is that it's not a formula. McKinley is unrelenting in his call to Biblical Christianity, apart from cultural expectations. The quote I am most eager to discuss from the entire book comes in the first chapter. He says, "The more we import movies and drama and pop culture into the churhc, the more specific and targeted our gatherings feel," as he discusses the need for churches to reflect the diversity of the demographic around them. In at least two different places, McKinley hones in on the need for church planters to make a special effort to get to know other pastors in their area. This stood out to me because it reflects a humility that I've come to deeply respect and admire about The Commons' pastor, Steve Bezner. An uncomfortable to valuable mantra in McKinley's writing is the idea that church planting is not a numbers game. The goal of a church planter is not to be numerical growth but rather "raising up a faithful gospel witness where none exists."
Chapter 3 is titled "One Thing Is Necessary" and there were several places throughout this chapter that I paused to do a little mental fist-pump. In fact, the word "yes!" is written in the margin of this chapter. The summary of the chapter, "Preach the Word." McKinley discusses all of the needs of his fledgling congregation and how tempting it was jump in and begin fixing things, but how he was committed to a faithful teaching of Scripture first and foremost. Call me crazy (I'm sure many of you have over the years!), but I am absolutely convinced that God's Word is the answer to all of life's questions. Steve assigned The Commons a homework question last Wednesday night. "What are the first 5 or 8 or 10 things you'd teach a new believer? What is it you believe they need to know first?" Discussing this with a friend on my way home that night, I felt a little sheepish in saying, "Is it wrong if my answer is simply to develop a knowledge of, love for, and submission to God's Word?" I didn't want to oversimplify the question, but over and over again I have found that the answers to so many of my perceived troubles in life and ministry are found in Scripture. I genuinely believe that Biblical illiteracy is the greatest problem facing modern-day believers. So, yes, I loved this chapter. :-)
It's tempting to review each chapter of this book. As I flip back through it, I see so many exciting thoughts and concepts and instructions. Just like the commentary about meeting local pastors, McKinley also points to local school teachers and administrators as a wealth of knowledge regarding local demographics. Love that. He talks about the fact that the church should be adorned by love and have a reputation in the community for extraordinary love. As my pastor-friend Randa Lyle at Meadowridge Community Church likes to say, "Should we ever go away from here, we'd want the community to miss us."
If there's anything in this book that might make church planters squirm, it's McKinley's tendency to throw out strategy (apart from teaching the Word, of course!). McKinley, a church revitalizer, recounts leading his church in a decision to do away with mission and vision statements, as they'd had them for years but they'd never once had the intended impact on the church people, leading or inspiring them to action. Then he says this (a statement I have highlighted with a "?" out beside it), "We don't need to make a ton of plans and strategies for how we are going to reach the world. God is more passionate about spreading his gospel than we are." See, if you're anything like me, you're squirming over this one. At least he didn't say we don't need to make any plans or strategies, right? :-)
I'll start with Mike McKinley's Church Planing is For: Wimps (How God Uses Messed-Up People to Plant Ordinary Churches That Do Extraordinary Things. A friend who knows about my current adventure with a new church plant pointed me toward this book, and I purchased it more out of curiosity than anything else. I promised our lead pastor, Steve, that I'd highlight profusely, make lots of notes in the margin and share as soon I was through it. While this book is definitely geared toward pastors, I found it interesting and insightful nonetheless. As The Commons is in it's infancy, I find myself frequently adjusting my prayers for our young church, desiring what is most pleasing to the Lord and constantly thinking about what the purposes and goals for a new church ought to be as well as evaluating my own heart and motives and aptitude for this endeavor. So, reading someone else's account of their own journey as a church planter during this season seemed like a good idea. And, I think it was.
The first thing I liked about McKinley is that he's funny. I literally chuckled out loud several times in the first few pages. Of course, a lot of his humor is seminary-nerd humor, but what can I say? I am what I am. The next thing I liked about this book is that it's not a formula. McKinley is unrelenting in his call to Biblical Christianity, apart from cultural expectations. The quote I am most eager to discuss from the entire book comes in the first chapter. He says, "The more we import movies and drama and pop culture into the churhc, the more specific and targeted our gatherings feel," as he discusses the need for churches to reflect the diversity of the demographic around them. In at least two different places, McKinley hones in on the need for church planters to make a special effort to get to know other pastors in their area. This stood out to me because it reflects a humility that I've come to deeply respect and admire about The Commons' pastor, Steve Bezner. An uncomfortable to valuable mantra in McKinley's writing is the idea that church planting is not a numbers game. The goal of a church planter is not to be numerical growth but rather "raising up a faithful gospel witness where none exists."
Chapter 3 is titled "One Thing Is Necessary" and there were several places throughout this chapter that I paused to do a little mental fist-pump. In fact, the word "yes!" is written in the margin of this chapter. The summary of the chapter, "Preach the Word." McKinley discusses all of the needs of his fledgling congregation and how tempting it was jump in and begin fixing things, but how he was committed to a faithful teaching of Scripture first and foremost. Call me crazy (I'm sure many of you have over the years!), but I am absolutely convinced that God's Word is the answer to all of life's questions. Steve assigned The Commons a homework question last Wednesday night. "What are the first 5 or 8 or 10 things you'd teach a new believer? What is it you believe they need to know first?" Discussing this with a friend on my way home that night, I felt a little sheepish in saying, "Is it wrong if my answer is simply to develop a knowledge of, love for, and submission to God's Word?" I didn't want to oversimplify the question, but over and over again I have found that the answers to so many of my perceived troubles in life and ministry are found in Scripture. I genuinely believe that Biblical illiteracy is the greatest problem facing modern-day believers. So, yes, I loved this chapter. :-)
It's tempting to review each chapter of this book. As I flip back through it, I see so many exciting thoughts and concepts and instructions. Just like the commentary about meeting local pastors, McKinley also points to local school teachers and administrators as a wealth of knowledge regarding local demographics. Love that. He talks about the fact that the church should be adorned by love and have a reputation in the community for extraordinary love. As my pastor-friend Randa Lyle at Meadowridge Community Church likes to say, "Should we ever go away from here, we'd want the community to miss us."
If there's anything in this book that might make church planters squirm, it's McKinley's tendency to throw out strategy (apart from teaching the Word, of course!). McKinley, a church revitalizer, recounts leading his church in a decision to do away with mission and vision statements, as they'd had them for years but they'd never once had the intended impact on the church people, leading or inspiring them to action. Then he says this (a statement I have highlighted with a "?" out beside it), "We don't need to make a ton of plans and strategies for how we are going to reach the world. God is more passionate about spreading his gospel than we are." See, if you're anything like me, you're squirming over this one. At least he didn't say we don't need to make any plans or strategies, right? :-)
I Almost Forgot
Big Dave's Quote of the Day on Mother's Day:
You know what Mother's Day means to me? One month until Dave Campbell's Texas Football Magazine comes out!
You know what Mother's Day means to me? One month until Dave Campbell's Texas Football Magazine comes out!
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