I am the Who!

WOW!!!! I can't believe how long it has been since I actually blogged. Where does the time go? It is not that I haven't had anything to write about but rather I have been busy participating in life, which actually keeps me off the computer and on the front porch. I am really being challenged to make sure that the life I am living is not one of performance but rather participation. This is a challenge because I can easily step into a performance role and not even realize it until I step back or someone loves me enough to point it out. Praise God for true friends, those who love me enough to say the things that might offend me. I am just weeks away from the "You Can't Run Your Race In High Heels" retreat. What do you all think of that theme? My dear friend and book end came up with the title and I just love it. The scripture of the weekend comes from Gal. 5:7 where Paul asks the church "who has kept you from obeying the truth"? Who has kept you from running your race well? Paul did compliment them before hand, he said, "you were running well". I am learning that I have become the who that Paul is asking about. I find that I get caught up in performance which knocks me of my course. Though it feels much like the race I was running, it's a lot more work and a lot less fulfilling. So, I work my way back to my lane, tie my running shoes onto my feet and take off once again, running the race that has been set out before me.

Theology

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Garments of Joy!

You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy.
Psalm 30:11

I worship a God who digs the impossible instead of one who is guided by statistics. After 15 years of marriage, with a past of addiction, abuse, anger, depression, and loneliness I am happy to say that we as a married couple are in a season of joyful dancing. God has restored our brokenness as individuals as well as a couple.

What that looks like today is that we yearn to be in the presents of each other’s silence. We long for the time we spend together reading and praying before the day ever starts and for our time together as the day ends.

We are in a season of preparation; OK, we will not be empty nesters for at least possibly another decade. However, it is never too soon to practice what we want to perfect and that is enjoying being with one another without the children.

With one child grown and on her own and two left to raise, we are now living this motto. “Let them go so they can grow.” So, every Thursday evening between 5:30 and 8:30PM they are both involved in their youth group. Letting them go so they can grow and serve the Lord does have its blessings.

Here we were, left alone, a quiet house with no interruption. My husband just looked at me and said “I don’t care what we do, I am just happy to be with you” and the feeling was mutual. We spent time searching for a new laptop for me and dreaming about the ministry that we have been led to serve in together. We laughed, talked, and enjoyed one another as we practiced and prepared for the day when true empty nesting would be our theme.
We eventually ended up on the front porch with a cold drink, ready to greet those who walked by and dropped in. We have learned to be still together and our love for each other grows out of being OK in the silence.

With just an hour left to ourselves, we took advantage of the time and went inside to participate in a little glorifying of the Lord.

The first ten years of our marriage was about mourning, about loss and about growing up. I can truly say that as I woke up and greeted the day, there was a joyful dance deep in my soul from the realization that The God of this universe has clothed us with joy. He has turned our mourning into dancing…

The American Waiting Room!!!!

But those who wait on the Lord
Shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not be weary,
They shall walk and not faint.
Isaiah 40:31


What comes to your mind when you hear those four words? Could it be the bus stop, the doctor’s office, a kid’s soccer game or maybe even your front porch? When you think of waiting, do you get anxious, excited or just downright frustrated?

We live in a fast food society with an immediate gratification generation; we as a society have lost the ability to patiently wait. However, as a follower of Jesus Christ, it is the very thing I know that I have been called to do. Wait on the Lord, be still, those are not “give it to me now,” kind of directions but rather instructions so that God can be God and I can be me.

My bags were packed and my goodbyes had been said when the phone rang and I was informed that my paper work did not go through and that my access to the prison had been denied. I was just hours away from leaving to minister in one of the nation’s largest women’s facilities. I was prayed up and prepared to go. All of a sudden, I felt like a door had just been slammed shut.

That feeling lasted but just a second, when the spirit of God gently reminded me that He had called me to go. I assumed it was to minister on the inside but as the options played out; it was evident that He had another plan for my visit to this particular facility. I found myself excited and full of anticipation, expecting great things from the very God who created this universe.

My options came down to this. I could stay home and lift the team up in prayer from under my roof and feel sorry for myself. On the other hand, I could join the team for a road trip, relationship building and vision casting. Sounds like something Jesus would have done on the road with His disciples. When the time came for the team to go in, I could sit in the waiting room, I could wait outside the bars with others who were waiting to get in to see their loved ones. I could be actively praying for the team as they ran three services and I could sit and minister to those who were looking for hope and light in a dark and hopeless place.

These options took me straight back to my very first experience when God placed that call on my heart. To reach out to the lost, forgotten and left behind. I was called to wear Him well and to wait well and that is what I did. I found it an honor and a privilege to be able to sit and wait as the Lord moved in a mighty way. Therefore, the option of staying behind on this trip was never really an option but rather what I believe to have been a test; would I go to just wait?


What is a waiting room? It is a building or common part of a building or even a place where people sit or stand until the event they are waiting for occurs. Up until the time of stepping into this ministry, I never thought much about what the waiting room of our American Prisons must have looked like. When the thought of a waiting room came to my mind in the past, I generally thought of places like doctor offices, airports, or even sporting events. It never even crossed my mind until I actually got to experience first hand what this type of waiting room involves.

As the team entered the facility and prepared to go behind bars, I secretly hoped that some how my paper work had been processed and that I would be joining them to minister to the inmates, to the many women I had been praying for over the past several weeks. Though I knew better, the Lord had called me to be still and to wait and that is just what I did. I sat among the family members, as they prepared to go through the process of being allowed to go in and visit those inside.

I quickly moved from the front row of plastic chairs to the back row of plastic chairs, I wanted to be able to actually see those I had been called to pray for. The most unsettling observation I made was the children. Of course, there would be children; it just had not entered my mind. Out of the corner of my eye, I witnessed what appeared to be a grandmother yelling at her grandchildren, threatening to take them and leave them in the car while she proceeded on with her visit. I became very judgmental in what I had been witnessing when all of a sudden the Lord quickly and firmly grabbed my heart and reminded me that I did not know the whole situation. I changed my thoughts and quickly lifted up the three in prayer.

As I sat in the back praying for the lost, I also realized that those waiting to get in also lived behind bars that I could not see. Their prison came in the form of the unknown. They had to put their trust in a system and a set of rules that at times did not make sense or that could change at any moment. Just as I was done with that thought a woman, old enough to be my mother sat down next to me. I made eye contact with her and offered her a smile; she smiled back with a silent thank you and with that the door was opened and I asked her where she had traveled from and how long she had been waiting. She was actually from my hometown, about six hours away. She was there to see her daughter who had been behind bars now for a total of three years; she came every three months to visit her daughter. My heart broke at the thought of only being able to see my mom every three months but I was quickly reminded through my thoughts that I went years without really seeing her and only recently through the redeeming power of Jesus were my chains broken and the prison doors flung open. As I brought myself back to the moment, my new friend asked me about my visit and I was given the opportunity to explain to her my circumstances and how I chose to still come and sit in the waiting area to pray for those outside waiting to get in. Just as I finished explaining, her name was called, she jumped up turned to me with a smile and thanked me, I let her know I would be praying for her and then she was gone.

I sat for a few moments just watching and praying for those being searched before they entered the gates. Even the toddlers could not get in with out being investigated. Most of the children had a dazed look on their face and the ones with them confusion sprinkled in their eyes. Almost a look of “how did we get here?” This had never been what I envisioned as a waiting room until now. All across America, people waiting and wondering when they will be called next, longing for just a moment with the one they love and anticipating the next visit before the very one they were at was over.

I had not been sitting in this particular waiting room for more then maybe twenty minutes or so when an officer came to inform me that unless I was there to visit someone I had to leave. Another team member who was with me informed him of our circumstances. He then directed us to another “waiting room” a trailer outside the main facility called Friends on the Outside. This waiting room was run by mostly volunteers, where people could come and wait with their children, those who were denied access and those who needed to borrow clothes that were acceptable for visits behind bars. There was a tiny little kitchen area and a day care room as well. A game room with a T.V. and a small resource center. I felt like we hit the jackpot, now this is waiting! Not because of where we were at but rather who we were with. Those who had been denied, rejected and sent away were now coming through the doors of the place we were waiting.

My ministry partner and I sat at the kitchen table chatting with a young man whom she had met in the first waiting room. He had come along way to see his wife and he was denied access as well, so here he was waiting as his in-laws and son has to go in for a visit. We listened to his story, the how and why of his situation that brought him to this place for this person. He shared where he had come from and where he planned on going. There was pain weaved in and out of his gruffness and toughness, I could tell he was doing everything he could to not cry. He shared how he was raised in a certain denomination and then how he became a Christian through his aunt but walked away from the faith years ago. He asked us our story and we shared why we were here and some of our past as well.
Then I decided to see if anyone was up for a game of Uno. Here we were, out in the middle of nowhere, denied access to minister, waiting in a giant tin box, being the church. The game was on, the laughter felt like food to the soul and the walls came down. People were circulating in and out watching us play and talk and share. We were ministering without even trying; we were a light in a very dark place without even realizing it. We were able to give him information and resources for his wife and son through the ministry as well as a scripture to take with him as he continued on his journey. It was an amazing experience and to think, that I, for a brief moment thought that the door had been slammed shut when my access had been denied, or had it?

As I was sitting and waiting I learned so much about myself and how far God had brought me. There would have been a time not so long ago that I would have been angry and resentful for having to wait. I would have worried about what people thought and what I must have done to be turned away. Six hours of sitting and waiting, sharing and praying. I had the opportunity to visit and share with those running this waiting room as well as minister to other family members and children that came in and out through out the day.

There were moments of silence that I used to pray and blocks of time where I just sat and stared into the yard. The prisoners were so close yet so far away. With one hour left of the six hour waiting room experience, my eyes started getting very heavy. The thought of laying myself down for just a few minutes sounded so refreshing but I thought about how Jesus asked the disciples to stay and pray for Him and how He must have felt when He found them asleep. With the ministry team inside representing the body of Christ, I just knew I did not want to use that last hour sleeping.

I stepped outside to finish my wait well and as I looked around the grounds all I could see were rocks, rocks and more rocks. As my eyes grazed the grounds, I cried out to God “How can any of this be reconciled?” The spirit of God quickly brought this scripture to my mind.

Matthew 16:18
Now I say to you that you are Peter (which means ‘rock’) and upon this rock, I will build my church, and all the powers of hell will not conquer it.

I could not reconcile what was going on in this American waiting room but He can and He does and His promise is that the powers of hell will not conquer it as well. I found a sudden burst of hope as the dirty dark rocks turned into a vision of what Christ called the church to be. I went from feeling hopeless to hopeful from feeling overwhelmed by the situation to feeling God’s power and authority to walk out this wait.

As the day ended and we walked out of the “waiting room”, I was overcome with gratitude, thanking God for calling me to be still and for calling me to wait on Him. I am learning daily that it is in those very moments of waiting that I have the greatest opportunity to wear Him well and to represent what God called the church to be.

“Be still and know that I am God”.
Psalm 46:10

When they call to Him for help!

The Lord hears his people when they call to Him for help. He rescues them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues
Those who are crushed in spirit.
Psalm 35:17-18

I was going through one of the hardest trials in my life. I was stuck in my pain, denial and grief and I didn’t know if I could go on. My days were filled with tears and my nights were filled with fear. I trusted God but I didn’t trust myself. This one particular day I was standing at the top of my staircase getting ready to make a phone call when I just broke down and started crying out to the Lord. I was bent over the railing of the banister just sobbing; I cried out to the Lord and asked Him “do you really believe I can do this”?

At the exact moment my phone rang in my hands and it was a dear brother in the Lord who was calling to check up on me, he knew of the struggles my family had been going through and he just wanted to let me know he was praying for us. Through my tears I said, “I don’t think I can do this”. And with an unbelievable boldness my brother said “not only can you do this you, are expected to do this”! Did the Lord hear my cry or what? The Lord knew I needed that phone call at that exact moment. He knew that my broken and crushed spirit needed a voice.

At first I wanted to be angry at my brother, how dare he talk to me like that, but then it hit me. Yes, I am expected as a child of the one true King to walk through brokenness and heartache, it will come my way. What I can expect is for the Lord to rescue me from my troubles and that is exactly what He did that day when He sent His voice through my brother.

I was able to hang up stand firm and walk through a trial that eventually brought my family closer to the Lord and to each other. So friends if you are struggling with heartache, with a spirit that has been crushed please claim the truth, turn to the Lord and realize that you are not alone and that He has promised to rescue His children when they call to Him for help. Key words, when they call to Him for help.

“Be still and run your race”

The least of these!!!!!!!!!!!

Whatever you do for the least of these my brothers, you do it to me.

Matthew 25:40

The conflict in my heart today is this. How can I sit still and do nothing when I know just twenty min. or so away from the box I call home is a whole other community refereed to as the homeless. Here I sit with three bathrooms to choose from, a closet full of clothes and a frig flowing with food. I complain about the gas prices but the truth is I can still afford to pay for the fuel that keeps my tires turning. I have the options to bathe in cold or hot water, wear flip flops or running shoes and sit where I want, when I want, with out being asked to leave.

Wed. afternoon I decided to hop on the light rail system and head to our downtown district with my brother, his children and mine. We passed by the least of these, their homes, their vehicles, of course shopping cart to boot as well as their family pets and companions that keep them company on the lonely streets they are so often kicked off of, ignored from or forgotten about.We hadn't planned this trip to be one of reaching out but rather it had been a tug on my brother’s heart to experience something new. Most people who have the option to drive, do so around here because your typical light rail rider has been given a stereo type title before they even enter the tracks, whether they fit that type or not is another thing.

My brother, who is very much like me, loves to be around people. We love to meet and greet where ever we go. My saying for this particular day was "a stranger is just a friend I haven't met yet" well until my 5 year old niece piped in and replied with "unless they kill you", which she had a point. Don't talk to strangers is a big one when you are still counting your age on one hand. In this life lesson that was unfolding before us, we were also able to teach our children balance and safety as well.

Again, my brother is all about new experiences, he wasn't looking for anything in particular and he didn't even know until this trip that my hearts shape and passion has been heading in such a direction we were going towards. It was such a God appointment, one that was just dropped in my lap. I couldn't imagine sharing this day with anyone else. My heart for those behind bars was now colliding with my heart for those with out homes.

As we rested in our seats and watched others board we smiled and greeted everyone who looked our way. At one point two guys sat in front of us and my brother extended his hand out to introduce himself and I followed. It was obvious by their eyes and smell that they had been drinking and were under some kind of influence but that did not stop us from loving them right where they were at. They proceeded to inform us that they were what they liked to refer to as house less, they just returned from possibly a shower program and one extended his hands out proudly to show me how clean his nails were. I complimented him on the nice work he had done to clean himself up and the gift he gave me for that was a smile from ear to ear. We came to what appeared to be their stop and wished them a good day and proceeded on our journey. God's chosen, the least of these, is what we had just experienced and I once again found myself hungry for more, like a day not so long ago when I met my precious friend Becky who lives on the river.

As we arrived at our destination, first stop, downtown Cathedral. I found myself drawn to the fact that everyday of the week at 12PM they offer a mass, a service, a teaching to those in public office, street workers, and homeless as well as just passer buyers. The contradiction in the visible signs of the people in the pews were amazing. Suits and ties, dirt and grime all in one building for a period of time. Was it shelter for some, truth for others, loneliness, what drew so many different people to this one place? It was a building where the church could meet that seemed to have drawn what I saw so many come to. The church being the people not the place, the place was the avenue for the message to be spread. The message being you are valued and worth the doors being open for you to enter. Amazing to see this unfold right before my eyes as I have come to realize how much the meaning of church has become blurred in today's' society and even in my own heart. We as a people are the church and in that moment it was evident that I was among the church.

We then proceeded to the local library, which was incredible, floors and floors of books and resources for the mind to devour. Sitting right in the middle of downtown. Here we were, the Cathedral, the library the court house and the jail and smack dab in the middle of that was the city park. This particular day it just happened to be farmer’s market day as well. As we finished up at the library, passing by many sleeping outside the doors and on the streets, we decided to join others in the park that day for lunch. We saw pan handlers, stock brokers, the homeless, men, women and children, teachers and writers, lawyers and doctors at least that is what it appeared to be. Because of the local surroundings I am assuming that is the range of people who we ate with and among that day.

We helped those collecting cans, sang with the homeless and laughed with the businessmen, waved to the children and talked to other parents. We took notice, left an impression and loved those around us for no other reason then doing so.What I saw that day was something that stirred in my heart. People in all there differences coming together and living in the moment, however brief it might have been. How do we bridge that gap and bring it from one moment to the next to produce a future of hope for those lost, forgotten and left behind?

For me, it’s remembering that Jesus did just that for me, when I was lost, forgotten and left behind, broken, beat and ready to be swallowed up by death, He was there to pick me up.

What I am learning by reaching out to the least of these in my own community and beyond is this. That the greatest gift I can give anyone, regardless of how they look, where they have been or who they are is my time, an ear to hear and a gentle touch, sometimes in the form of words, others through my hands.

As I come to terms with the conflict in my heart, I am also learning to deal with the fact that I am not called to give up all I have been given but rather I am called to give my all to those who have nothing.