Here's a post from last year. A recent article inspired by a Ted talk led me to repost it.
Hearts Set on Pilgrimage: We Need Hugs
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
Monday, May 4, 2015
I Don't Like Questions
I am having to ask questions again.
Honestly, this season of returning to the mission field
after an almost-five-year hiatus was not one I heavily reflected on. My focus
was mostly on how my husband, a man embarking on his first missionary journey,
was handling the process. Or how he was going to handle the process; or, how I
was going to handle him going through the process…how was I going to handle
myself with him going through the process? And, up until now, that has
predominantly been where my focus and energies have gone. In some ways, it’s
almost as though I myself have not been here this last year. I’ve been
watching, waiting, listening, praying, crying, yelling…for him, at him, to
him…to see if he’s going to fall in love with missions as I have. I have wanted
him to look like me. But I didn’t know it. At least, not in a conscious sense.
I didn’t know that I was waiting for him to fall in love so that we could be in
love together and finally live in dreamy harmony for the rest of our adult
lives.
A few times last summer I believed this was starting to happen. Instead of being able to start up the ministry site we came down
here to start, he was told by our missions leadership that they wanted him to
experience being in another site first…to see how it functions when we have
short-term teams with us. It seemed wise, though hard to deal with at the time,
as he was very excited to begin the work we came to do. Within a week, though,
change was happening. After several frustrating months of transition and
haphazard language learning, my husband began coming home rejoicing. He was
spending the days on a patch of dirt playing soccer with a group of
neighborhood boys. He went from being ‘Americano’ to ‘Meester Cleenton’. Even
though they daily accused him of being the World’s Worst Goalie, they also showered him with
hugs, high fives and respect. In their eyes, in their attitudes, on their
streets, Clint saw himself as a young boy growing up in a poor socio-economic
area. As the saying goes, he, like they, grew up poor, but happy.
But then Clint started coming home asking questions.
Questions about the way we do missions, about the need for missions, frustrated with missions, confused about missions. Questions I didn’t want to hear, ponder or even try to answer. I’d already asked these questions myself when I was a single missionary walking these same streets eight years ago. After living here for two years and after wrestling through many questions, I finally concluded that none of it mattered. God had called me here. God had directed me to work with this specific organization. It was up to Him whether or not we were doing missions ‘correctly’—whether what I did or didn’t do made any kind of difference.
Questions about the way we do missions, about the need for missions, frustrated with missions, confused about missions. Questions I didn’t want to hear, ponder or even try to answer. I’d already asked these questions myself when I was a single missionary walking these same streets eight years ago. After living here for two years and after wrestling through many questions, I finally concluded that none of it mattered. God had called me here. God had directed me to work with this specific organization. It was up to Him whether or not we were doing missions ‘correctly’—whether what I did or didn’t do made any kind of difference.
Since the moment God spoke to me about returning here, with
my husband, to work for the same organization in the same place, I have not
questioned that there was purpose in it. I have not questioned that there is a
divine reason why God wanted us here.
And I have wanted my husband, who did not hear God’s voice telling him
to come here, who has never wanted to be a missionary, who has really struggled
to grasp why we’re even here, to not have questions either. I was not prepared
to have to walk with him through the same process I myself walked through eight years ago. I was not prepared to have to answer questions I had long since
buried. Questions like: If there are churches here full of Dominicans, why do
so many Americans still come here? How integrated do we need to become? Should
we live in a poor area or in a "safer" area? Do we give to everyone who begs or
just to those who can’t work? We run a media site…is it intrusive to be filming
these poor people or is it the best means to communicate their need to the
world? Are we here helping or exploiting? Are the Dominicans tired of the constant
coming and going of Americans? Will we ever be able to overcome the ‘rich
American’ status we automatically have in coming here by being so shiny for
Christ that Christ is all they see? (So far, the answer to that question is
NO).
And then come the bigger questions: Why did God direct us to
come here? What is it that He truly wants from us? Are we supposed to be voices that cry out in the wilderness
or are we supposed to be world changers? Does it matter that we feel too broken
to make a difference? Too selfish? Will we become one of the statistics-- one of
the casualties-- due to lack of soul care on the field? Is the gospel really what
we are living for? Are we truly willing to die?
These questions get very overwhelming.
Which is why I had stopped asking the questions.
It was easier for me to just keep my head down, do my job and leave the details to God. God said come, so I came. That’s all I needed to know. A+B=C. I am an algebra girl. Clint is a calculus guy. I don’t want to peer into all that ‘stuff’ that hurts my brain.
It was easier for me to just keep my head down, do my job and leave the details to God. God said come, so I came. That’s all I needed to know. A+B=C. I am an algebra girl. Clint is a calculus guy. I don’t want to peer into all that ‘stuff’ that hurts my brain.
But I have to. I have to because he has to. I have to
because it’s part of growing, part of working with God instead of just for God.
God says, ‘Seek Me’. God says, ‘Knock’. God says, ‘Ask’. He promises to answer
us when we do these things. He promises to be found by us when we do these
things with all of our hearts. We are often taught that obedience is all God
wants. We are also often taught that he wants relationship more than anything.
Can a relationship truly exist without dialogue? Aside from your kids
automatically doing what you’ve asked them to do, do you want to know them? Do
you want them to know you? What about your spouse? Sure, it’s wonderful to have
your spouse automatically respond to a request with a joyful, ‘Yes, honey!’ but
if they never ask you questions, will you ever have a true relationship? You
can pay people to do exactly what you want them to do for you. That is not
relationship. That is not love.
But the questions bring up conflict.
They bring up dark, murky areas that reveal our imperfections and vulnerabilities. They force us to look at our limitations and absolutely feel our inadequacies. They throw our little controlled worlds into orbit and cause rifts in our atmospheres. Rifts that are so uncomfortable for us that we just fall back to our favorite answer: God is in control. And yes, yes He is. But does that mean He doesn’t want change? Does that mean He really does want automatons to do His bidding and it doesn’t really matter one bit what we say, think or do?
They bring up dark, murky areas that reveal our imperfections and vulnerabilities. They force us to look at our limitations and absolutely feel our inadequacies. They throw our little controlled worlds into orbit and cause rifts in our atmospheres. Rifts that are so uncomfortable for us that we just fall back to our favorite answer: God is in control. And yes, yes He is. But does that mean He doesn’t want change? Does that mean He really does want automatons to do His bidding and it doesn’t really matter one bit what we say, think or do?
I don’t believe so. And, so here I am, being provoked
through my husband, to ask questions that are uncomfortable. To listen to him
ask questions I don’t have answers for. To know that the choices we make have
impact, whether great or small, and that we need to be evaluating what kind of
impact we’re making, what kind of life we are living. “for in Him we live and move and
have our being,”
And, in all of this, we still aren’t going to get it right.
But in all of it, in all of the seeking, asking, knocking, we just might get a
greater revelation of who God is, of who we are, of how He sees the people we
live among; of what love truly looks like. I encourage you to ask some
questions today and be willing to let God take you to new places.
“I will give you the treasures of
darkness
And hidden riches of secret places,
That you may know that I, the Lord,
Who call you by your name,
Am the
God of Israel.”
Isaiah 45:3
Saturday, September 27, 2014
He walks with me...
The life of a missionary is, by definition, one of intentionality.
Without intentionality in this information age, it's becoming easier to disengage from community by the minute.
I know. I've done it.
We can now sit in our homes and connect with the world through a 13" -- even a 2" -- screen.
Electronics and social media are wonderful tools for mass communication and millions of lives are shared instantly. Things that used to hold no interest now flood our telephones and laptops, as we rabidly share them. Who knew so much could be so interesting? And with so much noise on the world wide web, how do we tell an important story without becoming just another voice shouting alongside the other shouting voices? Further, how does a person live stories worth telling in this age of virtual reality?
As Gandalf said to Bilbo Baggins: "... The world is not in your books and maps [and computer screens]. It's out there."
It's easy to lose your own story in telling the stories of others. We no longer have to work at disconnecting from the only story that matters. And as Christian missionaries -- bringing, sharing and discovering Jesus everywhere we go -- community is the only story that matters.
But why?
God is about community; God is community (the Trinity) lived out. God wants true reconciliation for us -- the re-establishment of true community -- and has charged us with the task of helping Him.
At Students International, Dominican Republic, there are fourteen different stories to tell... And those are the sites alone. With many sites having two (or more) staff members, interns, volunteers, and nearly 1000 outreach participants every year, the number of good stories is not wanting. In this cacophony of good, which stories do we tell?
This is the tightrope act we are walking in the new media site: How do we find the still, small voice of God in the midst of all this good?
By stopping, listening, and going.
So we went.
After tackling many of the items awaiting us in our new site, we both took a deep breath and went for a walk. I (Clint) spent the summer in two of our ministry sites here in Jarabacoa: Boys Club and Men's Sports. Amy spent the bulk of her summer with the Women's Social Work site in El Callejon.
During the summer, I met many people with great stories. Amy and I both have stories we want to share-- both personal and organizational.
This summer, I accompanied Men's Sports site leader, Raul, to Dechi's house, where we invited him to join us at the 'play' (term for 'baseball field' here) in Cristo Rey*. Dechi enjoyed the opportunity to join a larger community of boys, and we were all able to share in the love of Jesus.
Amy and I went back to Cristo Rey recently to revisit some of the relationships I'd developed over the summer, and made some new ones, as well! While there, I wanted to stop by to see if Dechi was home. He wasn't at first, but his mom was quick to call him from wherever he was at the time, and we were all visiting within a few minutes!
After introducing them to Amy, we talked for a while. We also took a few photos, some of which, we are going to print and frame for them -- part of the ministry we're going to provide here. Many families have no photographs or portraits in their homes (when I think of all my family photos stuffed away in a box somewhere, I realize how valuable these photos really are). We want families, like Dechi's, to have photographic records of their children.
After visiting with them for a while, we were off to visit another family. Along the way, we met José, who took us to his house for a short visit. One of his neighbors had suffered a stroke recently, and we were allowed to visit and pray for her, as well. The family we had wanted to visit wasn't home, but the colmado across from their house was open, and we ended up spending time there with the woman who runs it.
She told us a little of her story and of her son's involvement with Men's Sports, introduced us to her family and friends, and made us feel welcomed and valued. We talked about things that will be both remembered and forgotten. What was said wasn't as important as the fact that things were being said.
As I reflect on everything that's happened since we moved to the DR, one thing is becoming clearer: relationships matter. It's how we receive love. Love is more important than information; love has to be intentional.
Whether you're in a developing nation, or living in Burbank, CA, Jesus' words remain true:
Our hopes and prayers are that while we are finding our way within that community, you are finding your way, too. Right where you are.
Until God calls you somewhere else.
Without intentionality in this information age, it's becoming easier to disengage from community by the minute.
I know. I've done it.
We can now sit in our homes and connect with the world through a 13" -- even a 2" -- screen.
Electronics and social media are wonderful tools for mass communication and millions of lives are shared instantly. Things that used to hold no interest now flood our telephones and laptops, as we rabidly share them. Who knew so much could be so interesting? And with so much noise on the world wide web, how do we tell an important story without becoming just another voice shouting alongside the other shouting voices? Further, how does a person live stories worth telling in this age of virtual reality?
As Gandalf said to Bilbo Baggins: "... The world is not in your books and maps [and computer screens]. It's out there."
It's easy to lose your own story in telling the stories of others. We no longer have to work at disconnecting from the only story that matters. And as Christian missionaries -- bringing, sharing and discovering Jesus everywhere we go -- community is the only story that matters.
But why?
God is about community; God is community (the Trinity) lived out. God wants true reconciliation for us -- the re-establishment of true community -- and has charged us with the task of helping Him.
At Students International, Dominican Republic, there are fourteen different stories to tell... And those are the sites alone. With many sites having two (or more) staff members, interns, volunteers, and nearly 1000 outreach participants every year, the number of good stories is not wanting. In this cacophony of good, which stories do we tell?
This is the tightrope act we are walking in the new media site: How do we find the still, small voice of God in the midst of all this good?
By stopping, listening, and going.
So we went.
After tackling many of the items awaiting us in our new site, we both took a deep breath and went for a walk. I (Clint) spent the summer in two of our ministry sites here in Jarabacoa: Boys Club and Men's Sports. Amy spent the bulk of her summer with the Women's Social Work site in El Callejon.
 |
| Dechi's family/neighbors |
During the summer, I met many people with great stories. Amy and I both have stories we want to share-- both personal and organizational.
Amy and I went back to Cristo Rey recently to revisit some of the relationships I'd developed over the summer, and made some new ones, as well! While there, I wanted to stop by to see if Dechi was home. He wasn't at first, but his mom was quick to call him from wherever he was at the time, and we were all visiting within a few minutes!
 |
| Jose at his home |
After visiting with them for a while, we were off to visit another family. Along the way, we met José, who took us to his house for a short visit. One of his neighbors had suffered a stroke recently, and we were allowed to visit and pray for her, as well. The family we had wanted to visit wasn't home, but the colmado across from their house was open, and we ended up spending time there with the woman who runs it.
 |
| Jose leading us to his home |
As I reflect on everything that's happened since we moved to the DR, one thing is becoming clearer: relationships matter. It's how we receive love. Love is more important than information; love has to be intentional.
Whether you're in a developing nation, or living in Burbank, CA, Jesus' words remain true:
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and most important command. The second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself." - Matthew 22:37-39
"I give you a new command: Love one another. Just as I have loved you, you must also love one another. By this all people will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” - John 13:34-35, emphasis addedLove is what people respond to, more than our doctrine, theology, or denomination. The triune God I believe in is intentional and lives in relationship; God is three persons, living in perfect harmony. Not only has he invited us to participate in that community, He's made the way possible.
Our hopes and prayers are that while we are finding our way within that community, you are finding your way, too. Right where you are.
Until God calls you somewhere else.
*More photos of the area and the people from our walk:
Thursday, August 14, 2014
We Need Hugs
We saw Guardians of the Galaxy in the theater last year during the week of its release. Aside from laughter and fun with friends, the following was one of the results of having seen the movie.
We saw Guardians of the Galaxy last night.
At one point in the film, Groot, the giant tree-thing, who can 'grow' his existing limbs (or new ones) to any length, defeats a slew of 'bad guys' by slamming them against the walls of a tunnel, thereby temporarily saving his friends. It was comical in the "Tom & Jerry" vein; I was chuckling along with everyone else in the theater. That is, until I saw his face flash on the screen... and began to cry. I am assuming everyone else saw a big, tree-like thing beating up bad guys, followed by a child-like grin, seeking approval from his friends. Or something like that.
Me? I'm not sure what I saw. Rage, I think describes it best.
Rage, according to Merriam-Webster, is out-of-control anger (or the new, hottest thing). Stepping back from uncontrollable anger, simply gives us anger. But where does anger come from?
Every therapist/counselor worth their salt will tell you that anger is a secondary emotion. So few people seem to care that this is a fact, and fewer, still, ever talk about the primary emotions.
We're content judging people for their outbursts of anger, for letting the 'rage monster' out. There are too few people willing to actually engage other people in truth. It's no surprise to me that violence--in movies, on Saturday mornings, in our video games--is so popular, and has been for decades; it's the only outlet some people seem to have. It's why the Incredible Hulk is a Superhero idolized by millions. It's why depression is a plague.
With a rolling of the eyes and a quick glance at our friends, we think, "Wow, he's angry." Which really means: God, how annoying...
It's everywhere. It's even in the Christian church (some might say especially in the church).
And how do we Christians deal with it? One popular message in many churches is simply this: Anger is sin. So stop it.
"Man's anger doesn't bring about the righteousness of God." No, God brings about the righteousness of God, so we can all take a deep breath and relax.
"The Bible tells us to not be angry." Translated: No one cares enough to deal with what might be causing your anger. We're content with status quo and you should be, too. So please, just be quiet and go away; that's what good Christians do.
"Don't be angry", they say, and that's where the conversation is supposed to end. Scripture followed by alienation.
I take issue with these approaches, mainly because I believe they're unbiblical -- at least according to Jesus. We need to approach each other like He did--if, of course, we really are His disciples...
Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. - Matt. 11:28
You're hurting? Come here and rest.
We saw Guardians of the Galaxy last night.
At one point in the film, Groot, the giant tree-thing, who can 'grow' his existing limbs (or new ones) to any length, defeats a slew of 'bad guys' by slamming them against the walls of a tunnel, thereby temporarily saving his friends. It was comical in the "Tom & Jerry" vein; I was chuckling along with everyone else in the theater. That is, until I saw his face flash on the screen... and began to cry. I am assuming everyone else saw a big, tree-like thing beating up bad guys, followed by a child-like grin, seeking approval from his friends. Or something like that.
Me? I'm not sure what I saw. Rage, I think describes it best.
Rage, according to Merriam-Webster, is out-of-control anger (or the new, hottest thing). Stepping back from uncontrollable anger, simply gives us anger. But where does anger come from?
Every therapist/counselor worth their salt will tell you that anger is a secondary emotion. So few people seem to care that this is a fact, and fewer, still, ever talk about the primary emotions.
We're content judging people for their outbursts of anger, for letting the 'rage monster' out. There are too few people willing to actually engage other people in truth. It's no surprise to me that violence--in movies, on Saturday mornings, in our video games--is so popular, and has been for decades; it's the only outlet some people seem to have. It's why the Incredible Hulk is a Superhero idolized by millions. It's why depression is a plague.
With a rolling of the eyes and a quick glance at our friends, we think, "Wow, he's angry." Which really means: God, how annoying...
It's everywhere. It's even in the Christian church (some might say especially in the church).
And how do we Christians deal with it? One popular message in many churches is simply this: Anger is sin. So stop it.
"Man's anger doesn't bring about the righteousness of God." No, God brings about the righteousness of God, so we can all take a deep breath and relax.
"The Bible tells us to not be angry." Translated: No one cares enough to deal with what might be causing your anger. We're content with status quo and you should be, too. So please, just be quiet and go away; that's what good Christians do.
"Don't be angry", they say, and that's where the conversation is supposed to end. Scripture followed by alienation.
I take issue with these approaches, mainly because I believe they're unbiblical -- at least according to Jesus. We need to approach each other like He did--if, of course, we really are His disciples...
Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. - Matt. 11:28
You're hurting? Come here and rest.
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. - Psalm 147:3 The opposite of 'be quiet, you're annoying and need to repent.'
Paul talks about anger, instructing us to not sin "in our anger"--which I find interesting (see Ephesians). Jesus' brother, James, tells us that the anger of man doesn't accomplish the righteousness of God. He also tells us to "get rid of all moral filth". It would seem the other hidden sins being committed don't bring about God's righteousness, either...
Ashley Madison might have as much to do with the anemia of the church as anger does... same disease, different self-medication.
But I digress.
Don't be angry (or carousing, drunk, worried, greedy, dissatisfied, or afraid)...
Paul talks about anger, instructing us to not sin "in our anger"--which I find interesting (see Ephesians). Jesus' brother, James, tells us that the anger of man doesn't accomplish the righteousness of God. He also tells us to "get rid of all moral filth". It would seem the other hidden sins being committed don't bring about God's righteousness, either...
Ashley Madison might have as much to do with the anemia of the church as anger does... same disease, different self-medication.
But I digress.
Don't be angry (or carousing, drunk, worried, greedy, dissatisfied, or afraid)...
Be on your guard, so that your minds are not dulled from carousing, drunkenness, and worries of life, or that day will come on you unexpectedly like a trap. For it will come on all who live on the face of the whole earth. - Jesus, Luke 21:33-35
Your life should be free from the love of money. Be satisfied with what you have, for He Himself has said, I will never leave you or forsake you. Therefore, we may boldly say:
The Lord is my helper;I will not be afraid.What can man do to me? - Hebrews 13:5-7
Few people seem to care why a person might possibly be angry, as long as that person will just stop being angry. It seems we can't handle feeling uncomfortable for more than 0.8 seconds. Every angry person I've ever encountered (when I've taken the time to talk with him or her) has expressed feelings of pain--shame, loneliness, loss--and more often than not, began to cry.
Why do we live in a society where emotional pain is ignored or mocked? (Man up!, we say.)
Why does it take a movie theater or an elementary school being shot to pieces before ANYONE asks, "Well, huh, what do you think was wrong with him?"
Why does a celebrity's suicide create a resounding parade of condolences and sentiment (and scripture ensuring we know that celebrity's eternal outcome)? Because no one cares when it actually counts.
No. Not one.
It's not allowed. Don't talk about your pain. No one wants to hear it. "Who cares what your [family member of your choice here] was like?" "Grow up!" "When I was your age..."
We are all the priest or the Levite passing by the dying man on the side of the road: No mercy; no compassion.
"Someone else will help".
Or maybe we pass by because God doesn't want us associating with those people?
But maybe God, in His mercy, says -- no, shouts (as CS Lewis might say): "I CARE! I WANT TO HELP! I'LL HOLD YOU! I'M WILLING TO DIE IF THAT'S WHAT IT TAKES!"
But not me. ... No, not us.
We'd rather gather in the marketplaces and discuss the latest horror to come across the CNN/FOX newsfeed than reach out beforehand, because we really wanted to go see The Dark Knight Rises without having to think.
"But he was such a nice guy..." we say, surprised.
Who are we kidding? We never take the time to understand the 'nice guys' before these catastrophes take place. So how can we be surprised by anything they might do? There are too many people on the sides of the roads (and in our churches!) and too few Good Samaritans.
God, send more Good Samaritans! Please.
When anger rears its ugly head, people are quick to slap a scripture band-aid on the angry person, or worse, choose to be afraid of the "rage monster" (which, by the way, is a direct disobedience of God, His angels, and Jesus: 'Do not be afraid', 'Fear not', '... we have not been given a spirit of fear').
Ironically, throughout the Old Testament, the phrase, "In my anger" (referring to God, Himself) abounds; the number of times varies according to the translation of your choice.
Jesus was angry when He thrashed the temple.
As Jesus approached the home of Mary and Martha, just after their brother, Lazarus, had died, He "saw [Mary] crying, and the Jews who had come with her crying, He was angry in His spirit and deeply moved." (John 11:33, HCSB, emphasis added)
So, I have another question: if Jesus can be angry, is anger truly a sin? Or is it simply an emotion, you know, something that makes most of us uncomfortable?
Now, for those of you who are becoming... upset(?), I hope this isn't being read as a plea for anger to be accepted as normal Christian behavior. I hope it's seen for what it is: a plea for us to stop treating anger like we treat homosexuality.
Being so in love with the Law, that we ignore the dying people under it, is not from the heart of God. And for those hurting people who are in Christ? I say let those of us without anger cast the first stone at them, too.
But I don't know what to do with an angry person! Have you tried prayer? Don't know what to pray? That's fine:
During the movie, while I was watching a giant tree-thing save his friends, I cried for a moment--while everyone else laughed. Looking back, I realize I was seeing a microcosm of the church's response to anger: it's entertainment until it's personal.
Then it becomes political. And still un-dealt-with.
Don't let it get that far. Reach out to someone today. Please. For your sake and theirs. You never know what catastrophe you might avert. Our schools and colleges and stores will appreciate your efforts.
*A recent Ted talk inspired an article, which served as yet another catalyst for me to repost this. You can read the article here.
Why do we live in a society where emotional pain is ignored or mocked? (Man up!, we say.)
Why does it take a movie theater or an elementary school being shot to pieces before ANYONE asks, "Well, huh, what do you think was wrong with him?"
Why does a celebrity's suicide create a resounding parade of condolences and sentiment (and scripture ensuring we know that celebrity's eternal outcome)? Because no one cares when it actually counts.
No. Not one.
It's not allowed. Don't talk about your pain. No one wants to hear it. "Who cares what your [family member of your choice here] was like?" "Grow up!" "When I was your age..."
We are all the priest or the Levite passing by the dying man on the side of the road: No mercy; no compassion.
"Someone else will help".
Or maybe we pass by because God doesn't want us associating with those people?
But maybe God, in His mercy, says -- no, shouts (as CS Lewis might say): "I CARE! I WANT TO HELP! I'LL HOLD YOU! I'M WILLING TO DIE IF THAT'S WHAT IT TAKES!"
But not me. ... No, not us.
We'd rather gather in the marketplaces and discuss the latest horror to come across the CNN/FOX newsfeed than reach out beforehand, because we really wanted to go see The Dark Knight Rises without having to think.
"But he was such a nice guy..." we say, surprised.
Who are we kidding? We never take the time to understand the 'nice guys' before these catastrophes take place. So how can we be surprised by anything they might do? There are too many people on the sides of the roads (and in our churches!) and too few Good Samaritans.
God, send more Good Samaritans! Please.
When anger rears its ugly head, people are quick to slap a scripture band-aid on the angry person, or worse, choose to be afraid of the "rage monster" (which, by the way, is a direct disobedience of God, His angels, and Jesus: 'Do not be afraid', 'Fear not', '... we have not been given a spirit of fear').
Ironically, throughout the Old Testament, the phrase, "In my anger" (referring to God, Himself) abounds; the number of times varies according to the translation of your choice.
Jesus was angry when He thrashed the temple.
As Jesus approached the home of Mary and Martha, just after their brother, Lazarus, had died, He "saw [Mary] crying, and the Jews who had come with her crying, He was angry in His spirit and deeply moved." (John 11:33, HCSB, emphasis added)
So, I have another question: if Jesus can be angry, is anger truly a sin? Or is it simply an emotion, you know, something that makes most of us uncomfortable?
Now, for those of you who are becoming... upset(?), I hope this isn't being read as a plea for anger to be accepted as normal Christian behavior. I hope it's seen for what it is: a plea for us to stop treating anger like we treat homosexuality.
Being so in love with the Law, that we ignore the dying people under it, is not from the heart of God. And for those hurting people who are in Christ? I say let those of us without anger cast the first stone at them, too.
But I don't know what to do with an angry person! Have you tried prayer? Don't know what to pray? That's fine:
In the same way the Spirit also joins to help in our weakness, because we do not know what to pray for as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with unspoken groanings. - Romans 8:26Jesus left us “the ministry of reconciliation” (2 Corinthians 5) and we are butchering it. We can't even worship in the same buildings without calling each other demonic or ignorant. We're angry people angered by everyone else's anger. We're drunk on our own sense of superiority. We're blind guides who have a form of Godliness, yet deny its power. If we could start confessing (to each other) the pain we feel instead of lying (to each other) about it, we might become the agents of change Jesus said we would be.* (James 5:13-20)
During the movie, while I was watching a giant tree-thing save his friends, I cried for a moment--while everyone else laughed. Looking back, I realize I was seeing a microcosm of the church's response to anger: it's entertainment until it's personal.
Then it becomes political. And still un-dealt-with.
Don't let it get that far. Reach out to someone today. Please. For your sake and theirs. You never know what catastrophe you might avert. Our schools and colleges and stores will appreciate your efforts.
*A recent Ted talk inspired an article, which served as yet another catalyst for me to repost this. You can read the article here.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Until the stories commence...
Yesterday Monday morning our Media site began, officially. It's been a long time of waiting and dreaming, hoping and more dreaming. It's been a bit like waiting for a baby to arrive, for me. The excitement, the planning, the window-shopping, the re-planning... We all know what babies look like, but until your baby comes, it's all speculation. The Media site feels the same way to me. We've talked about it, dreamed about its direction, shopped for it, and thought of who's going to be impacted by it.
Monday came and we actually held the "baby" in our arms for the first time. Now the thought is: what will its personality become?
As we were unable to know its true face before this week, neither can we know the joy that's to come. As is true for all babies--no matter how many other babies have come before--this one is special to us. We get to form it and guide it. We get to watch it take on a life of its own and bless people in ways we may never imagine. And one day we'll get to hand it off to someone new.
But not yet.
We're excited for the stories we're going to be able to share with you and others through the Media site. We're excited for the relationships to be born because of its existence. We're a little scared at the potential for its enormity compared with our smallness. Most importantly, we're honored that God, Himself, has asked us to be the guardians of this site's first steps, and we're humbled that you agree with God enough to support and encourage us along the way. Thank you!
So, until the stories commence...
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Barrenness, Part 2: Do Not Hinder the Little Ones...
So, our second round of Clomid with an HCG trigger shot did not work, either.
But I knew it wouldn't.
A day before starting the rounds, the Lord spoke to me in the stillness of my heart:
"The medication is not going to work because that is not your problem."
He then went on to enlighten me on the issue. I took the medication anyway, 'just in case' I hadn't heard from the Lord. The medicine made me feel terrible, just like last time and it yielded no fruit. At least I was mercifully forewarned and so when Auntie Flo showed up I was not devastated like last month. It is still disappointing, however.
This week, I served once again at the Women's Social Work Site in El Callejón. I love this little community. I fell in love with it when I was on a 2 week outreach back in 2006 and God has continually allowed me to work, plant seeds and love the people in this community every time I am back here.
On Thursdays, the site leader, Daisy, leads a young mother's group in the mornings. This means that LOTS of kids and babies show up. We had a group of 3 high school girls with us and so we, with our intern, Anna, stayed outside with the kiddos so that the women could focus on the Bible Study and activity Daisy had prepared. Anna and I focused our attention on a 1 year old named Samantha. Like many of the children in El Callejón, Samantha's mom is around, but isn't always attentive to her. I most often see this little baby in the arms of her 9 year old cousin, Rosalyn. In fact, Samantha's mom hadn't even shown up to group-- Rosalyn brought her. Samantha, like many of the babies here, doesn't smile much and doesn't warm up to new people easily. I was actually pleasantly surprised when she allowed Anna and I to entertain her with a few colorful blocks and a toy dinosaur. After about a half hour, Samantha looked at me, crawled over and started trying to climb into my lap. I thought she wanted to maybe stand up and walk around a bit, but when I went to lift her, she quickly plunked her head against my chest and nestled in for a little nap. Heart...melting...now.
I rocked her and sang to her and watched her heavy eyelids open and close over and over, not sure if she felt completely safe to let go in this 'stranger's' arms. My thoughts went toward the stories in the gospels when Jesus tells his disciples that He wants to bless the children people kept bringing to Him. He even told them not to hinder children coming to Him because the Kingdom of Heaven was made up of children like the ones they were trying to push away. I felt such intense love for this little baby and I knew it was the absolute love and joy of the Father for her. God loves his creation, but mostly He loves humans, who He made in His own image. I was filled with such gratitude, that at that moment, my empty arms were available and were filled. For those 40 minutes she stayed in my arms, I was a momma-- a safe place full of the love and peace of Jesus. When I'm in El Callejón, my arms are often filled; filled with hugs from little girls, with scissors and glue that I'm carrying to help the older ones finish their projects, with babies and brooms and Bibles. My barrenness, at this time, allows Jesus to reach many.
“Sing, barren woman,
you who never bore a child;
burst into song, shout for joy,
you who were never in labor;
because more are the children of the desolate woman
than of her who has a husband,”
says the Lord."
Well said, Isaiah, well said.
Yes, we are still praying for children and yes, we are trying to remedy our problem, but in the meantime, we are seeking first His Kingdom and letting Him do the rest.
But I knew it wouldn't.
A day before starting the rounds, the Lord spoke to me in the stillness of my heart:
"The medication is not going to work because that is not your problem."
He then went on to enlighten me on the issue. I took the medication anyway, 'just in case' I hadn't heard from the Lord. The medicine made me feel terrible, just like last time and it yielded no fruit. At least I was mercifully forewarned and so when Auntie Flo showed up I was not devastated like last month. It is still disappointing, however.
This week, I served once again at the Women's Social Work Site in El Callejón. I love this little community. I fell in love with it when I was on a 2 week outreach back in 2006 and God has continually allowed me to work, plant seeds and love the people in this community every time I am back here.
On Thursdays, the site leader, Daisy, leads a young mother's group in the mornings. This means that LOTS of kids and babies show up. We had a group of 3 high school girls with us and so we, with our intern, Anna, stayed outside with the kiddos so that the women could focus on the Bible Study and activity Daisy had prepared. Anna and I focused our attention on a 1 year old named Samantha. Like many of the children in El Callejón, Samantha's mom is around, but isn't always attentive to her. I most often see this little baby in the arms of her 9 year old cousin, Rosalyn. In fact, Samantha's mom hadn't even shown up to group-- Rosalyn brought her. Samantha, like many of the babies here, doesn't smile much and doesn't warm up to new people easily. I was actually pleasantly surprised when she allowed Anna and I to entertain her with a few colorful blocks and a toy dinosaur. After about a half hour, Samantha looked at me, crawled over and started trying to climb into my lap. I thought she wanted to maybe stand up and walk around a bit, but when I went to lift her, she quickly plunked her head against my chest and nestled in for a little nap. Heart...melting...now.
I rocked her and sang to her and watched her heavy eyelids open and close over and over, not sure if she felt completely safe to let go in this 'stranger's' arms. My thoughts went toward the stories in the gospels when Jesus tells his disciples that He wants to bless the children people kept bringing to Him. He even told them not to hinder children coming to Him because the Kingdom of Heaven was made up of children like the ones they were trying to push away. I felt such intense love for this little baby and I knew it was the absolute love and joy of the Father for her. God loves his creation, but mostly He loves humans, who He made in His own image. I was filled with such gratitude, that at that moment, my empty arms were available and were filled. For those 40 minutes she stayed in my arms, I was a momma-- a safe place full of the love and peace of Jesus. When I'm in El Callejón, my arms are often filled; filled with hugs from little girls, with scissors and glue that I'm carrying to help the older ones finish their projects, with babies and brooms and Bibles. My barrenness, at this time, allows Jesus to reach many.
“Sing, barren woman,
you who never bore a child;
burst into song, shout for joy,
you who were never in labor;
because more are the children of the desolate woman
than of her who has a husband,”
says the Lord."
Well said, Isaiah, well said.
Yes, we are still praying for children and yes, we are trying to remedy our problem, but in the meantime, we are seeking first His Kingdom and letting Him do the rest.
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