It's Been A Long Time

Over 2 years ago, I wrote my last blog post. I knew then it probably wouldn't be the last one ever, but I knew it would be a lengthy hiatus at best. There were several reasons for this, and now there are several reasons for returning.

A lot has happened in the last 2 years...politics aside...I mean personally. For the last year, I worked in a homeless shelter. You want some perspective on what matters in this world, go to work for a population of people who carry all of their personal belongings in a backpack. Also, about 2 years ago, I embarked down an area of study in my spiritual life that has completely changed the way I look at this world and my place in it. More importantly, God has awakened me to His power within me and the dark forces that are at work against every single one of us, whether you're a Christian or not. Just being human means you have an enemy that wants to destroy you, because he wants to destroy everything and everyone that God created...and that means you.

But as a Jesus-follower, I am empowered with certain gifts...promised to each of us...that will not only aid in my survival, but will actually help me soar above the muckety-muck of this world we call home.

I'm now at the cusp of yet another new beginning on this Journey. And as the Holy Spirit always does, He has been prepping me for this one too. I don't yet know where it will lead, but I do know it will involve growing things and growing people. That's pretty much how He's summed up my purpose here. And because of the heart He's given me, I know those things include plants that feed people, and the people will involve those on the fringes of our everyday lives.

I've struggled a lot over the last year, first with my health, and then stress and anxiety that were digging deep roots into my soul and taking hold in ways I didn't know were possible...and I've had a lot of stress in my past. (Just read previous posts...particularly in years 2009-2011!) But as I finally listened to what He's been telling me to do for the last 2 months, the source of the stress is gone, and now I just need to let Him work on digging up the stump. I know He will be faithful to do it!

Not coincidentally at this same time, He's been calling me to get back to finding out who He really is. A lot of the teaching I've heard, and the lessons I've learned amid the cacophony of voices that seep into our lives through news, media, the internet and even our churches, is so diametrically opposed to who God says He is, that part of my stress has involved simply trying to hear His Voice.

The best way I know to get back to the heart of God is through Jesus. Who did He say He was? How did He live His life? Not just what did He say, but what did He do? To whom did He go?

I have to strip down that muckety-muck I referred to previously and look with new eyes upon the One who gave everything just so I could commune with Him. So the best place that I know to start is in the gospels...Matthew to be specific. I know I'll find Him there, because He promised that when I seek Him, I will find Him. (see Jeremiah 29:13)

Do you want to join me on the Journey? He promised there is no greater adventure! I don't know how long it will take, but it would be good to hear your thoughts and observations along the way. Oh, and I'd be remiss if I didn't insert here that the plan isn't just to find out who He is, but to put it into practice too! After all, James the half-brother of Jesus, told us that "faith without works is dead." (see James 2:20) I honestly don't need any more head-knowledge, do you? What I do need is the transformational power of Jesus to so infect my life that the world is different because I know and love Him!

I can't think of anything more worthy of my time, energy and attention...let's get started!

My Injustice

I've started working through Kelly Minter's study, What Love Is: The Letters of 1, 2, 3 John (Living Room) So far, I really like what I'm studying. But today, a commonly quoted verse brought me to tears as the Holy Spirit spoke to my heart and opened my Kingdom eyes.

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." (I John 1:9, NASB)

You don't have to be a Christian very long before you hear this verse. In fact, if you had someone walk you through any step-by-step proselytizing format (like those used by Campus Crusade, Youth For Christ, YWAM, etc.) you probably recognize it as one of the scriptures used to illustrate that in order to receive salvation, one thing you need to do is "confess your sins".

You'll also notice that I put the letters NASB after the reference. That's because I use the New American Standard Bible. If you've known this verse, you probably stumbled over the word "righteous", just like I did. That's because most of us memorized, or have heard quoted a gazillion times, the word "just" there, as used in the NIV (New International Version).

This morning, when I saw the "righteous", but my brain slid in the word "just", something transforming happened for me. Holy Spirit nudged, "Now if just and righteous are interchangeable...do it again." What did He mean? Look at the last word of the verse and this is what I read:
If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all un-just-ness.

Now...you and I both know that "unjustness" isn't a word...but injustice is.

Injustice.

The kind of thing that keeps people enslaved to give me coffee or sugar.
The kind that allows me to spend $2 for an iced tea when a single mom in Asia only has that amount to feed her five children for an entire day.
The kind of thing that keeps one race feeling "less than" my race.
The kind that turns Christians ugly and mean when other people don't live up to their code of conduct.
The kind of evil that opens up gunfire in a church.
The kind that drives millions from their homes while we look on from afar.
The kind that allows people to live on top of a garbage dump.

I can actually go on. But I won't. You get the point, I hope.

We are surrounded by injustice. And often I am extremely self-righteous about it. [Notice the "self" part of that.]

When I back up in I John 1:9, I'm reminded that only God is righteous. Only God is just.

Ever since I was a small child, I've had this profound sense of "fairness". As a middle child, I have always wanted everything to be fair and equal. It isn't. And when it's not, I get downright angry. But there's one more big word in this verse. It's a word God's Spirit has been growing in me for a few years now. It's a word that I've shared the meaning of with anyone who will listen.

Faithful.

What does faithful mean? This isn't a technical definition, but as I studied this word a few years ago, I became aware that it essentially can be explained as this: God's faithfulness is God's really-real-reality.

You see, it doesn't matter what I say is real. It doesn't matter what our culture, government, family, school, neighbor, boss, friend, co-worker, coach or the rest of the world says is real. Everything goes back to God's reality.

His.

Not mine.

And His really-real-reality is that He is just...He is righteous...and when I admit honestly that every inclination in my heart is evil (Genesis 8:21)...only then can He begin to cleanse me of the injustice that lurks in my heart.

My heart.

No one else's.

I don't confess my sins so that someone else will be cured of their alcoholism, or convicted of their adultery. I don't admit my shortcomings so that the world will sanctify my point of view.

No.

I throw myself on the mercy seat of Jesus' blood, because a just and real God wants to purge me of my injustice. He's ready to cast out my judgmental ways, my critical spirit, my arrogant pride and anything else in this mortal, flawed shell that feels somehow I deserve better treatment than a leper in Calcutta, a slave in Indonesia or a pedophile in Wyoming (yes...I went there. I am no better than even him!)

So, I hope you'll forgive me if I haven't "taken a stand" or "voiced my outrage" or "shared my concern"...I'm too busy pleading with my Maker to clean me up and create in me a pure heart.

Like His.

Pope Francis Quote of the Day

I have been sharing several quotes from The Joy of the Gospel on Twitter and Facebook, and today thought this one would be great to share with you.

"[A missionary heart] never closes itself off, never retreats into its own security, never opts for rigidity and defensiveness. It realizes that it has to grow in its own understanding of the Gospel and in discerning the paths of the Spirit, and so it always does what good it can, even if in the process, its shoes get soiled by the mud of the street."

The mud of the street, the dung in the horse barn, the nasty water of the laundromat, the trash of the abandoned house...where will your missionary heart lead you to get soiled this week?

Jesus and the Disinherited by Howard Thurman- A Book Review

I read this book over the weekend on my trip to Houston so I could participate in the Curriculum Share time with Abbey and her housemates. Mission Year requires that all of the program participants read a series of books that speak to poverty, the inner city, injustice, love and more.

Jesus and the Disinherited by Howard Thurman was reportedly carried around by Martin Luther King, Jr. everywhere he went. He found inspiration within its pages to lead a Civil Rights Movement that our country desperately needed. As I read, I had to keep reminding myself that this book was first published in 1949. Sadly, it seems that not much has changed, aside from some of the language Thurman used which was common to his day.

Abbey was surprised to see the dozens of highlighted quotes in my copy and I was thrilled to engage in this conversation with the Mission Year folks...book studies/clubs are sort of my thing. But if this book were required reading for anyone that serves alongside the "disinherited" of our culture, I believe we would approach ministry with more compassion and depth of knowledge than is often seen. The grandson of a former slave, who grew up in Jim Crow Florida, and was a highly educated, intellectual and close follower of Jesus, has much to say to us even today. 

"FEAR is one of the persistent hounds of hell that dog the footsteps of the poor, the dispossessed, the disinherited...The ever-present fear that besets the vast poor, the economically and socially insecure, is a fear of still a different breed. It is a climate closing in; it is like the fog in San Francisco or in London. It is nowhere in particular yet everywhere."

There are numerous quotes that I will return to over and over again, but the most profound image I was left with is a hypothetical story that Thurman relates in an attempt to help the reader understand the mindset of the dispossessed:  What if you were one of five children and all the children in your family received a new pair of shoes, except you? You might be upset, but you'd probably console yourself by saying, 'Well, I'll get my turn next.' But then comes the day when everyone in your family has a large slice of cake and again your are skipped over. This pattern continues time after time with no one else being denied gifts, treats and small pleasures, except you. Your indignation, anger, hatred and even shame begin to rise until you start to question if it's because you are somehow "not worthy" or possibly "less than" and you, in fact, deserve the slights and betrayals.

This is the life of the perpetually disinherited. As the third of four children, I have always had a profound (too profound, actually!) sense of fairness. In my mind, absolutely everything should always be fair and equal. This has, as you can imagine, provided me with hours and hours of frustration, lost relationship, pain, anger and hurt over the years. When someone says, "Well...life's not fair!" I want to scream, "But it should be!"

Somehow, in many of our American Christian churches, we've bought into this idea that everyone can succeed if they just pull themselves up by their bootstraps and that each person has the same opportunities as the next. My reply...and after reading Thurman's book, I think he'd agree...is always, "But you're under the assumption that everyone has a pair of boots."

"Welcoming Justice" by Loving Our Neighbors

Over the course of Abbey's Mission Year, she has required curriculum discussions with her team. My friend and I are reading as many of the books as possible because they have been carefully chosen to address issues that our under-resourced communities face:  racism, injustice, poverty, subpar educational options, and more.

Welcoming Justice by Charles Marsh and John Perkins grabbed me from the beginning simply with its subtitle, "God's Movement Toward Beloved Community". Community...it's what every dissatisfied Christian I encounter is longing for. It's what God created us to crave. God the Father, Jesus the Son and the Holy Spirit live in community with one another in a way that we cannot even put words to. Thus, it is hard-wired into each and every one of us. 

What we wealthier Christians often don't realize is that our impoverished neighbors we condescend to "help" have much to teach us about living in community. One of the first people Abbey encountered in her new Third Ward neighborhood of Houston was a grandmotherly woman who assured her that she would look out for them and they should look out for her. 

John Perkins was on the front lines of the 1960s Civil Rights Movement. Reading this book (co-written with Charles Marsh) during the recent outcry coming from places like Ferguson and New York City, helped remind me exactly whom should be at the forefront leading the charge against injustice, inequality and demeaning of our fellow man. "God's movement is the most powerful source of social change in our society." (p. 23)

Marsh reflects on where the Civil Rights Movement went wrong, lost momentum and left unfinished the work it had begun. "Removed from its home in the church, the work of building beloved community withered and died." (p. 25)

"It is unlikely that anyone has ever read Nietzsche's The Antichrist or Derrida's Dissemination and been inspired to open a soup kitchen. ...Still, my research has shown me that only as long as the Civil Rights movement remained anchored in the church--in the energies, convictions and images of the biblical narrative and the worshiping community--did the movement have a vision." (Philip Yancey, Foreword, p. 13)

One of the most profound quotes to me is when Marsh refers to Martin Luther King Jr.'s prophetic vision for the future of America: "King resolved that America's only hope lay in repentance--in a repentance that took the form of willingness to be a servant nation to the poor of the earth. Sadly, King would not live to say much more." (p. 27)

Is it too much to infer that our deeply-rooted issues of reconciliation vs. racism and forgiveness vs. condemnation could be addressed if we would handle more wisely the God-given resources, blessings and abundance that undoubtedly have been given to our nation? Almost 50 years after the assassination of MLK Jr., we have never been farther from becoming "a servant nation to the poor of the earth". In fact, our spending and misallocation of natural and man-made wealth keeps more people in the world bound in the chains of slavery and unfathomable poverty now than when slavery was actually legal in our land.

"Perkins showed that the activist and organizer will only cease to patronize the poor when they live in community with them and approach them in a spirit of compassion and the willingness to serve. "Living involvement," Perkins said, "turns poor people from statistics into our friends." (p. 29)

This is what I see happening as people move outside their comfort and safety zones and serve with Tent Day and allow God to wreck their lives. We begin to smell like the sheep that we desire to lead to the Shepherd, not because they are foul-odoured, but because we begin to recognize the fragrant offering that rises from 'loving our neighbor as we love ourselves.' (see Matthew 22:36-40)

"Patronization is a worry only when outsiders fail to discern the gifts of the poor--their loyalty, fragility, creativity and holiness--and deny the importance of black leadership. When this happens, outsiders are quick to impose their own plans on the poor and slow to see the wisdom in the local story."

Wednesday afternoon I sat across the table from my friend who this week has been immersed in our Homeless Hosting ministry at First Church. As we sipped our hot tea on that very cold afternoon, she told me stories of the men, and I could see how God is growing her. 'I think some of them are angels,' she said. Since the author of Hebrews told us that in showing hospitality to strangers, in this case homeless men, we unknowingly entertain angels...she may be right.

What I do know is that loving on, giving to, and growing with our under-resourced neighbors will draw us closer to seeing those "angels" than in any other place.

Where Do We Go From Here? #Ferguson

I'll be upfront and honest. I have no answers, because I don't have all of the facts. Period.

But this I do know:  I have been, in turn, sad, angry, frustrated, and confused throughout the course of events that has taken place since August, when a young, black man was killed on his city streets. Did he deserve it? I serve a King who loves everyone and live in a country where I've been taught that we are all innocent until proven guilty, so my conclusion is No...he did not deserve to die the way he did, without a trial by a jury of his peers.

I readily admit that I don't know much about how the world works. My world is very small. I live in a mostly white, affluent suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio. I am not affluent, but most of the neighborhoods around me are. Because of my color, my gender and my geographic location, I do not know the shame of being followed by clerks when I enter a store. I do not know the pain of seeing a woman clutching her purse more tightly because I pass her on the sidewalk. I have not witnessed a family distressingly glancing over their shoulders because they wrongly found themselves in my neighborhood. I did not attend schools that were lucky to have one beat up computer in a classroom, had 30+ kids in each class, had dripping ceilings, textbooks falling apart, and chaos running rampant throughout its halls. So who am I to tell someone that they are wrong in their anger at how they have been treated by their fellow countrymen?

Is destruction and violence a justifiable reaction to the inequality and rampant racism that pervades every crevice of our society? Again, I turn to my King who says that when we're slapped, we should offer the other cheek as well. (see Matthew 5:39) This is not a "lie down and take it" mentality. It is a defiant grace that exudes confidence in a God who will fight my battles and seek vengeance on my enemies.

Then where do we go from here? 

Wow. Honestly, I don't know. I truly wish there was a formula, a 12-step program or a book to shed some light on how we right the wrong of racism.

Oh wait!...There is! And the Author told me that the two greatest things I could do are to love my God with absolutely every fiber of my being and the second is to love my neighbor in the exact same way that I would love myself. And I can study the lives of Jesus, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Ghandi for bigger-than-life sized examples of how to flesh this out. 

What does "loving my neighbor as myself" look like in this situation? Well, when I do something destructive or horrendously stupid, do I want to be written off as a lost cause? Do I want people to say there is no hope in my restoration? Do I want people to point fingers, call names, say/write hate-filled comments, or deduce that I deserve what I get? NO! Nor should I participate in any of those Kingdom-opposing activities.

So what does "loving my neighbor who has just destroyed their neighborhood because they are sick and tired of being treated like second-class neighbors as myself" look like? It looks like reading books about race and reconcilliation. It looks like following voices that cry out for justice (i.e. Pope Francis, Shane Claiborne, Jim Wallis, etc.) It looks like embracing people of various backgrounds as friends. It looks like my daughter and her teammates making pies all day long yesterday for their mostly African American neighbors. It looks like, on these days leading up to Thanksgiving, she and her teammates going into the local prison to pray with those that want to pray.It looks like volunteering in a school where you are the only ginger and the children can learn to love this sweet little lady that looks nothing like them. It looks like attending opportunities that help you Understand Poverty. It looks like Tent Days where a group of people are breaking down racial and economic barriers because weekly they share life with people in their community. It looks like supporting organizations such as  Mission Year and CityMerge who seek reconcillation and love for all people. And it looks like putting a halt on listening to the media voices that chronically tell us one set of people are "good" and another is "bad". 

Basically, "loving my neighbor as myself" means I must question and set aside every culturally-instilled notion I have about what my life and the lives around me should look like and instead embracing a Kingdom-ethic of loving absolutely everyone no matter their color, gender, economic status or the past sins of themselves or their ancestors. 

Isn't that how I want to be loved?

Understanding Poverty; City Gospel Mission, Cincinnati, Ohio

Saturday morning, the kids and I participated in a training event at our church that was given by City Gospel Mission . I hope they don't mind that I'm using their photo, just as I don't mind that they took a photo of us sitting at the table in the foreground. The photo shows though, how diligently I was taking notes and that my children were all engaged in the speaker, the videos and also the small group discussion at our table.

I have to confess what I loved most was that this was not just First Church folks. People from the community, local schools and future volunteers at City Gospel, all came together in an attempt to grapple with some pretty difficult realities and some very discouraging statistics.

City Gospel and so many other great organizations like them, believe that relationships and love are the key to "Breaking the Cycle of Poverty and Despair...One Life at a Time." I know they are on to something, because I know that when I think about the rampant poverty around the world and how we privileged white folks take so much for granted...I have to confess it is pretty easy to despair. What I have already experienced and had confirmed again through this training is that I have more to learn from those who live in poverty, than I could ever teach them. Coming along beside someone not only has the potential to change their poverty, but also my despair at a world that has gone wickedly awry.

In each of their own ways, my children had their eyes opened. Leah was crushed to learn that one of the "measuring sticks" for the state of Ohio's Department of Corrections is literacy. Dr. O'Dell Owens, of Cincinnati State was quoted as saying, "If you don't know how to read by the end of the Fourth Grade, the state is building you a prison cell." That's a harsh reality for a sixth grader to hear. It must have spoken to Noah also, because he looked it up online to verify it later and discovered that California, Texas, and most other states follow suit.

Rebekah was impacted most visibly. I don't know what God has planned for this unique child, but she is often moved to tears by injustice, inequality and poverty. She definitely will be one that fights vehemently for the "underdog" in the coming years.

I wish everyone, Christian or not, in some way, whether through mission trips, books, movies, workshops or conversation, would take the time to step into the world of the deeply impoverished. Shane Claiborne writes in Irresistible Revolution that he has to believe that most people do not do more to end poverty, simply because they do not know anyone that is poor. Become friends with someone who lives in poverty and you begin to care deeply about how your own choices impact their world. It's no longer the faceless masses, vilified and condemned by our corporate-operated media. Instead it's Joe, Sue, Fred, and Frank. 

If you are a Christian, I ask you to just read your Bible. If there is no other venue open to you with which you can engage with the poor...go straight to the heart of Jesus (himself a poor man) and witness the compassion, mercy, grace and lenses of love through which He approached those whom society would much rather push to the margins. I can guarantee you that I know what you'll find:

A heart that beats with passion for those that His Father never forgets.

So shouldn't ours?

A Tale of Two 14 Year Olds

Dickens once wrote, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness" (A Tale of Two Cities) and although I have yet to have the pleasure of reading that great work of fiction, the opening line of this novel has been resonating within me for the last week or so. Allow me to tell you the tale of two very different life trajectories for two 14 year olds.

***********************************************

One girl dreams of meeting the singer in her favorite band.

The other, dreams of pursuing a technical career.

One girl is in 9th grade.

The other only completed 6th grade.

One girl is schooled at home.

The other no longer attends school due to lack of money.

One girl has three siblings.

The other has six.

One girl is concerned with appearances and sometimes feels awkward.

The other probably doesn't even know what that means.

One girl helps her parents out with chores and earns a little money.

The other went to work at her parents' request to help take care of her siblings.

One girl never cared to play with baby dolls, she preferred stuffed animals.

The other had her first baby in early August 2014.

One girl hopes to start babysitting to earn extra money.

The other works in a brothel.

One girl lives in "The Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave".

The other bravely faces each day knowing she will never again be free of public stigma and scorn.

One girl has a world wide open to her of unlimited possibilities to what she can do with her life.

The other has life.

One girl is my daughter.

The other is not.

****************************************

I am tired...bone weary tired...of a world that cannot see the fathomless beauty, dignity and promise that every single living soul deserves...NOT because we are worthy, but because of a Heavenly Father who bestows it upon us. He is enraptured with every single one. Since picking up this prayer card for "The other", I cannot let her face...her light...her promise out of my mind. She is worthy of more. Praise God for places like Northwest Haiti Christian Mission who help women caught in the claws of a brothel life. 

But Lord...please raise us all up to claiming this "season of Darkness" one toe hold at a time for Your "season of Light"!

Amen!

The Great Debaters- A Movie Review

I recently read a blog post titled something like "The 10 Best Movies Regarding Racism in America"...which I can not for the life of me locate right now. Ugh! Although it left off some movies that I would have chosen, I still had seen five of the ten and had this movie already in my Amazon Prime queue. 

I had hesitated to watch The Great Debaters, because there is a lot of violence portrayed in films that I just cannot stomach anymore. Knowing it was set in the Jim Crow South of the 1930s didn't do much to bolster my hope that it wouldn't include violence. I can (without revealing any spoilers) share that although some horrific things in our nation's past are dealt with, graphic violence is not acted on film. (I hope that makes sense!)

The Great Debaters stars Academy Award winners Denzel Washington and Forest Whitaker who are, as usual, phenomenal in their roles as mentors to the generation that would be in the forefront of the 1960s Civil Rights Movement.

What I find interesting is that in His always impeccable timing, God intersected my Journey with this movie at the same time I am wading through Martin Luther King Jr's compiled autobiography and a reading list I am excited to delve into that Abbey will be studying during her Mission Year. Most of the books on that list pertain to race, reconciliation and injustice for the poor and marginalized of our society. Is it coincidental that I also had Lee Daniels' The Butler on hand to watch with a friend Friday night?

Racism is not a new concept for God to be drawing out of me. His work in that area began in college, long before I had even experienced the leading of His Holy Spirit within me. I confess, I'm not only excited to see where Abbey's Mission Year takes her...I'm also bubbling over with anticipation at how God will grow me in the areas of race reconciliation and injustice for the poor of our inner cities.

Amos, the Sheepherder

Let's say you're content as a shepherd...minding your own business (which is sheep!)...and the Creator of the Universe tells you to go to a wicked and cruel generation and reveal to them that if they do not turn from their idolatry and sin that said Creator will decimate the land, allowing invaders to take them into exile and leave only 10% or less of the people in the Promised Land (see Amos 5) . What do you do?

You give the message.

Such was the life of Amos. It was a prosperous time for the Northern Kingdom. Because of the peace and prosperity, they naturally assumed that God was pleased with them. Does any of this sound familiar?

Imagine their surprise at the message and disdain for the man that says, 

"For three transgressions of Israel and for four

I will not revoke its punishment,

Because they sell the righteous for money

And the needy for a pair of sandals.

These who pant after the very dust of the earth on the head of the helpless

Also turn aside the way of the humble..." (Amos 2:6-7)

When someone 'pants after the very dust' of the helpless, it also means that they "trample" or "snap at the head of the helpless". Yet another warning for our time and culture, don't you think?

The first five chapters of Amos carries prophecies for several nations, Damascus, Gaza, Tyre, Edom, Ammon, Moab, Judah and Israel. Some of these are distant relatives of the Chosen People. But in these chapters, there are two ideas that stood out to me throughout the long list of punishments. The first is found in chapter four.

Throughout this chapter, God mentions all that He gave them (food) and all that He took away (rain, crops eaten by pests, health from plague) "Yet you have not returned to Me", declares the LORD. This refrain is spoken over and over again. I distinctly get the impression that at any point if they had returned to Him, all would have been forgiven. 

Also in Amos, Joel, and I am certain several other prophets too, there is the recurring theme that is heralded even more boldly in the life of Jesus...this is a God that takes notice of the helpless, the needy and the poor. More importantly, He takes notice of how those who call Him "Lord" treat the helpless, the needy and the poor.

"Therefore because you impose heavy rent on the poor

And exact a tribute of grain from them,

Though you have built houses of well-hewn stone,

Yet you will not live in them;

You have planted pleasant vineyards, yet you will not drink their wine.

For I know your transgressions are many and your sins are great,

You who distress the righteous and accept bribes

And turn aside the poor in the gate (place of judgment for wrongdoing) (Amos 5:11-12)

Now...I know we live in a time of grace. And I know we have freedom in Christ and need not live in fear of condemnation or live by guilt or shame. Yet, as I'm hearing a repeated refrain throughout these prophecies, and His grievances against His people have a recurring theme...isn't it time we take notice of the same things that break the heart of God?

I'm not preaching to anyone here but myself. How do I continue to be wasteful with my blessings and unmindful of the people all around me who are hurting, lost and destitute? Destitution takes on many forms. How do I spend all of my time, my money, my energy and my talents on myself without any thought for my fellow man? Where will that sort of self-focus and indulgence lead?

Just ask Amos.

Giving Out of God's Abundance

A few months ago our pastor spoke about giving and ever since I've been asking myself this question: "How do I give out of my poverty?" Whether the poverty of my finances, my emotions or my spirit...when I feel like I have nothing left to give, how does God still want me to give? I have ruminated on this question extensively.

Over the last year, I've also been introduced to writers and speakers Brandon and Jen Hatmaker. This husband and wife duo had their world Interrupted when they attended a worship gathering where Shane Claiborne of The Simple Way asked everyone in attendance to donate their shoes to the homeless. As Brandon turned around to, for the first time, witness a Barefoot Church, he and Jen knew their lives would never be the same.

Exactly one year ago this past week, our family had the amazing blessing of visiting The Simple Way and although we may not have gotten to see as much about how they work, live and serve among their inner city neighbors as I would have liked, this lady saw enough to know these are people completely sold out and surrendered to living the way Jesus called us all to live.

Fast forward to today when I stood in worship of a Savior that may take a year or more to put a whole lot of situations and circumstances in place to teach me one powerful lesson...but He did. And I had the tears rolling down my cheeks to prove it.

Why?

Because last summer, trying to be more financially responsible and recognizing that Mary Poppins was perfectly correct when she quipped, "Enough is as good as a feast!", I purchased only one shirt, one skirt and one pair of sandals for that vacation to Philadelphia and The Simple Way. I think the whole ensemble cost me less than $30. In other words, it's not like it was fancy. But...I only purchase one pair of sandals/flip-flops per year usually and I was still wearing one old, dirty everyday pair and was on my second season with a pair I really liked but was showing it's age. These new, simple sandals with a silver strap were my "nice, church" pair (God does have an amazing sense of humor!). But, I loved those sandals. (love, in the American usage of how we love things)

Since I've been trudging along through Jen Hatmaker's book 7 this year and trying to avoid the trap of excess in my life, I decided this summer, I would make do with the three pairs of sandals from last year...the now 4 year old dirty, yard, everyday pair, the now 3 year old pair that I love, but the strap is hanging on by a thread and the now 2 year old pair with the silver strap that I wear for "nice". And I was content.

[You gotta know where this is going, don't you?]

This morning as we headed out to church, I was wearing the 3 year olds and as I have gotten in the habit of doing the last few times I've worn them, I grabbed the silver 2 year olds "just in case" my toddlers decided to break apart. I don't treasure the thought of being in my local Kroger in bare feet. The local Kroger probably wouldn't like that either, so I've been going out prepared.

Our current sermon series is focusing on the lessons we can learn about God through Creation. Today, Pastor Marksberry spoke about God as Provider. He ended the sermon with asking us...to give away the shoes we are wearing and leave barefoot so our shoes could go to a local organization that will distribute them globally. This was done very politely and without any pressure, yet unapologetically...as it should be.

As we took communion and I took a quick survey of my family's footwear, my first thought was, "But none of us are wearing shoes that anyone would want. They're all worn out, on their last leg and mine are about to break."

[By now...I'm sure you must realize what happened]

Hot on the heels of this first thought was the Holy Spirit's reminder, "But you have an extra pair in your van."

I wish I could say I instantly said, "Okay...sure". But I have to be honest and admit that I struggled for a minute or two. You see, this was my nice pair He was asking me to give away...not the dirty, yard pair or the pair hanging on by a thread. And what began resonating throughout my head, my heart and my soul was this: You knew. You knew they were going to ask this. You knew I would have that pair in my van. You knew I would sit here struggling.

Then everything I've read about the Hatmakers experience, everything I've read and know about Shane Claiborne and The Simple Way, everything I've been asking Him to purge me of in the excess of my culture came to a silent breaking point for me. I don't know what everyone around me was thinking. I don't even know if anyone else donated any shoes. I may have been sitting there quietly, prayerfully, even reverently during that communion...but Baby, I promise you my soul was on the edge of its seat ready to jump up and fly.

Why?

Because last year, I wore those sandals on the very sidewalks and streets where Shane Claiborne and The Simple Way live out the call of Jesus for justice, mercy and love for the marginalized of our society. Of course, Holy Spirit would ask me to give away the pair of shoes I own that have a little Philadelphia dirt on them.

Please do not read into anything I wrote here that I need a new pair of sandals or that I have somehow "arrived" because God has broken through and taught me "how to give out of my poverty". I can promise you that I will be absolutely fine and God, as usual, will continue to provide for my needs. Walking back into that church to drop off that silly little pair of sandals I knew with every fiber of my being that the greatest gift my Abba gave me on this Father's Day is that I no longer have to ask the wrong question.

Instead of asking how I can give out of my poverty, He is pleading with me to ask the right one:

How do I give out of my Abba's abundance?

Amen.

Provoking Jealousy

When I started studying Hosea last week with some ladies at my local coffee shop, we talked a lot about harlotry/idolatry as God depicts our sin in Hosea 1. As I'm finishing up Mark Batterson's book, All In, (review soon!) the chapter entitled "The Idol that Provokes to Jealousy" resonated deeply with me. Batterson's referring to Ezekial 8:3 where he sees an idol that provokes jealousy in God.

We are taught to hate that word jealousy, aren't we? After all, we aren't supposed to be jealous of anything right? Batterson writes that God isn't jealous of anything...He's jealous for everything. It's all His to begin with.

Including me.

And you.

He created us for relationship with Him and He jealously protects that relationship to the point that He wants absolutely nothing to stand between He and I. (or you.)

"The idol that provokes to jealousy is anything that diverts our attention from God, our affection for God, or our reliance on God. It's anything that consumes more time or more money than our pursuit of God."

And this:

"Identifying your idols starts with looking at the way you spend your time and spend your money. I can tell you what my priorities are, but if you really want to know what is most important to me, all you have to do is look at my calendar and my checkbook. They don't lie. They reveal what my true priorities are. They will also reveal the idol that provokes to jealousy."

Batterson goes on to write about the hidden rooms of our hearts and what would others see if they could peer inside? Then this is what stopped me up short this morning when I read it:

"If you want to identify your idols, you need to reverse engineer your emotions. Trace the trail of your tears or fears, your cheers or jeers. If you follow it all the way to the trailhead, you'll come face-to-face with the idols in your life." 

Ouch!

What makes or ruins my day?

What produces the strongest emotions in me?

It's not wrong to cheer on my favorite team, or laugh at something I watch...but if those are producing more emotion in me than the things that break the heart of my Savior...then I need to start asking myself some tough questions.

What moves the heart of God is a good place to start.

Spreading Some Christmas

Last night, we had the blessing to be a part of a beautiful thing. A gentleman from our church who regularly heads out to downtown Cincinnati to meet with homeless folks, put together an event right on the sidewalk of Third Street.

Best estimates are that there were close to 100 people who received food, clothing, toiletries, and more and about the same number of people helping out. The interesting thing is that I often couldn't tell who was being helped and whom was doing the helping. Apparently, I wasn't the only one...someone walked up and offered me a Bible. I wanted to say something smart, but thought differently and simply replied, "I attend FCC". He was a little embarrassed, but that's okay. It can keep him humble. Our women's director walked up to one of our guys who hadn't shaved that day and offered him some food. Rick was very kind and declined. The point? At least we were mingling. Ha!

Social faux pas aside, the weather was neither a deluge or too cold for a brief 24 hour period which was great and I know people on both sides of the serving table had a good time. Wayne and his helpers did a superb job of bringing it all together. There was actually so much help that there wasn't much for us to do. But we did what we could.

Isn't that sort of what Christmas should be?

None of us can do much...but we should do what we can. Every day.

Giving Tuesday: A Heart For Korah

One of my favorite groups just added 12 more families that need sponsorship! A Heart for Korah has been dear to my own heart for several months now. I first mentioned them back in April of this year and their work has grown as has their heart for the people of Korah.

On this Giving Tuesday, wouldn't the best gift you could give be the one that literally brings life and hope to people who may have none? Read through the bios of the families and you will be amazed at how they have survived so much. For only $50 a month, you can help provide food, rent and possibly even an education to families that the world would like to just have us put away and forget. But they are not forgotten by a God who commands us all to give out of our abundance to those who have none.

Really? Trampling people underfoot on Black Friday and buying junk that won't make it to spring or saving the lives of a family? Is there even a doubt which reaps the greater reward?

PLEASE Read This!

A Facebook friend shared this blogpost today. It is amazing insight into how it feels to be poor and always have to tell your children, "No." Things are a little better for us now...but that's because my husband works 60+ hours a week, just to pay the bills. 

And while we have never used EBT assistance, I have completed the application twice, yet felt a firm "No" from my Abba that, at least for us, food assistance was not how He would provide. I am a huge advocate for those that need it though. Is the system perfect? No. But unless neighbors, families, churches and friends are going to walk beside people for the long haul, there will always be a need for the system.

Children do sometimes need to be told no. But envision a world where you could never buy anything but necessities, could not even buy extra flour or sugar to make an extra treat, couldn't afford any movies, video games, books or toys, could never afford new shoes or clothes for your child and never had gas money for anything except getting to work, the store, school and maybe church and...now ask yourself how long your kids could go without ever being told, "Yes, you may have that treat."

Are you beginning to understand? If not, next time my 10 year old is crying because we have no money for scouts, dance lessons, etc. I'll gladly send you a video so you can see first hand how it feels.

I am thankful for an Abba who loves me...who loves us all...and recently suggested to me that I stop saying, "No, we can't afford that," but rather suggest an alternative instead. Today when the waterworks poured forth at her creative, social brain's perceived slights to her childhood, I was prompted to share with her how we are attempting to learn to live more simply. As we more fully embrace this lifestyle Jesus is calling us to...when He frees up money for us, "won't it be a great thing to be able to help others live, eat and grow too?"

She agreed...that would be a pretty awesome thing.




***I feel so strongly about this, I am posting the link again so you will read it.***
http://withthefamily5.blogspot.com/2013/10/why-i-buy-red-vines-with-my-ebt-card.html#comment-form

Fashioning Crosses

I did some reading on a few days I had skipped in my Common Prayer book because I've been so involved in the Believing God study I'm doing. I came across this in September 30th's entry:

"Lord, keep us from making crosses out of the splinters of discomfort in our lives. Help us recognize the true crosses you call us to bear, those whose weight lends to the freedom and provision of others. Amen."

Yes, my "crosses" are pretty puny compared to what so many others have to endure. I remember reading an interview with Francis Chan after he spent time with Jesus followers in China. The people just naturally assumed that we in the West endured persecution just like they do. After all, if you only had a Bible to learn what Christianity looked like, and you lived on a deserted island (another Chan point from one of his books), what would you think the Church would look like? Are we really so deceived as to believe it would look like our version in the U.S.?

The Chinese Christians actually laughed at the suggestion that we over here leave churches because of programs, music or people we don't like. Very telling indeed.

So this small quote today hit me just where I needed it to. Yes, I need community and it needs to be with others that are seeking Him first, foremost and sacrificially...but...the little splinters of discomfort like style of worship, dynamic vs. bland preaching, Lifegroup vs. small group vs. Sunday school class...honestly, just don't matter. The cross that I should be picking up is the one that provides and frees. That's what Jesus did...and so should I.

I Know Hope

In an ongoing effort to spend the money God has given us in the way He would want us to spend it, I am constantly on the lookout for companies or ministries that are 

• environmentally friendly
• practice Fair Trade with their growers, farmers, craftsmen, laborers, etc.
• are not abusing, enslaving or traffiking anyone...or turning a blind eye to such practices
• work toward helping communities and individuals instead of padding the pockets of a few CEOs of multinational corporations

I still have a long way to go, but God is empowering me to one purchase at a time, stop the hopeless, helpless feeling that "I am only one person, so what can I do?" For me, that has become a cop-out that I can no longer excuse. Yes, it means research, diligence, delayed gratification and persistence but it also means my life and spending directly contribute to the well-being of others. I think that's a life Jesus would say is well-lived. Shouldn't that be my goal?

Which brings me to my latest purchase. A purse. I've been looking for one for about three to four months. I could find nothing on Stop Traffick Fashion's website that would fit my needs and budget, but they are usually my go-to place for this sort of thing. I've been babying the free Thirty-One purse that I won a few years ago because the zipper pull kept breaking. Then yesterday, the kids and I served at session for the Hands Against Hunger Million Meal Pack and I had time to peruse their small shop in the factory. I was beyond thrilled to find a messenger style bag (my favorite), upcycled from a used coffee burlap sack, that supports a ministry that is "Meeting the needs of the orphan, the hungry, and the hopeless by providing food, shelter, and other humanitarian efforts both locally and abroad."

Can't beat that, can you?

Sure I paid probably about $10 more than I typically would for a bag like this, but I consider that an investment in someone else's future. I Know Hope has several vendor locations in the Cincinnati area, but you can also order directly from them online. Oh, and by the way...the bag is exactly what I've been looking for and amazing quality too!

I have a friend that tomorrow is also hosting an open house for Redeeming Gifts brothel ministry. 

I am certain that I will spend money that some would say I should save for a "rainy day". But if I can get a jump start on some Christmas shopping and help a woman who currently can only support herself by selling her body for a dollar or two...why would I not do it! 

The point of all of this is not to strive for perfection...but improvement. 

See also, related post A Good Steward, 

A Good Steward

Steward is one of those words that people in the church throw around a lot but few outside the church even hear. Yet it's a concept that can be lived out no matter what part of the Journey you're on. Because we are all on a Journey whether we recognize it or not. I tell my kids often that the only difference between us and all other mammals is that we have the God-given ability to stop and think. When our lives are not just a series of knee-jerk, survivalist reactions, we can live the life God intended when He first thought of us.

The crux of being a good steward (as my finite brain sees it) is twofold:

• Acknowledge that everything belongs to God and I am just the "manager" of what He's given me. 
• Stop and think if I am using His resources in the most effectively responsible way that I can.

Simple, right?

In theory...Yes. In practice, not so much. 

We in the western world don't have a culture set up for "stop and think." In fact, our consumeristic, capitalistic economy is literally banking on the hope that we will be impulsive. Someone like me with ADD is very familiar with the sting of buyer's remorse. So I have had to give myself permission...and grace...to take this in baby steps. 

Buying locally grown food is great and supporting farmer's markets is awesome. I'll be honest...I don't remember to do it very often. I have no great reasoning behind this. I do remember to go berry picking sometimes. And I even made it to a farm for peaches. But we go through produce so fast around here that trekking out only to the farm is not realistic or even financially viable for us right now. I've chosen a third option...growing our own as much as possible. With this choice it was easier to find an economical, environmentally friendly seed company. And, an AMAZING young start up that donates an aquaponics system to a school when I buy one. 

I don't know that I can always buy Tom's Shoes, but when they donate a pair to a developing country with every pair they sell...I would be remiss if I didn't at least check into it when I need shoes. 

If I need a new purse, you better believe I'm going to try to find one from Stop Traffick Fashion. (They sell jewelry and t-shirts too.) Our co-op can no longer collect BoxTops for education, but I am still cutting them out because it just feels wrong to throw away ten cents that a school could use. I'll pass them on to someone that can use them. 

But the easiest way to live this steward-thing out happened again today. I've done it often enough that I don't even have to think about it now. When checking out at Gordon Food Service, I say, "I need to mention Lifeline Ministries." And, BOOM...Lifeline receives a donation. It really is that simple. If you don't live in Northern Kentucky, ask around. I'm certain there is a soup kitchen or a women's shelter in your area that can benefit from a portion of your purchases. 

This way of living initially may require a little extra effort. But just like me at GFS, eventually it becomes habit. It really takes no more effort to load up our unneeded stuff and drive it to Lifeline, where it is given freely to people who need it by an entirely volunteer staff...than the effort to drive it to Goodwill where bargain hunters snatch up great finds and minimum wage employees are worked hard...while the fat-cat CEO rakes in over 20 MILLION dollars a year. Please tell me you can appreciate the difference.

I've rambled long and I still have a long way to go in living this out. (Remember, baby steps!) I encourage you though, just like making small, life-long changes in what you eat or how you exercise...take the challenge to change one aspect of your buying habits. Whether it's resolving to never again use plastic shopping bags or only buying local lettuce...stop and think about how you can make the Journey a little more meaningful while you still have the chance.

I Dare You to Do This and...

not be humbled.

The folks over at A Heart for Korah posted a very eye-opening link on their Facebook page. It's called Global Rich List. It will ask you your location and then all you do is type in your annual income and it instantly evaluates your percentage of wealthiest people position. It also gives you the data in real number of people.

For instance, I put in our last year gross income and believe it or not, even with living 1.5 times below the poverty level for a family of 6 in the U.S., we were still in the top 1.10% of wealthiest people in the world.

Yikes!

That makes me about the 73.6 millionth richest person out of a world population of around 7 billion. Can you say the word shame? Not shame at what we have been blessed with...but my stupid whining at how little I have!

So I crunched a few numbers...just because I'm a little weird like that. Dale's had a lot of extra work this year, so our income has gone up considerably...still below poverty level, mind you. Yet, by my estimation we will have finished the year in the 0.51% or the 33.9 millionth richest person.

Oh yeah...you know I went further. I put in our income the last year that Dale worked in banking. Twice what we earned last year, but still only about $14,000 above poverty level for a family of 6. Here's the stats: 0.15% or about the 10 millionth richest person in the world. Can it be possible that that woman of five years ago actually thought she barely had enough to get by? Yes...double shame.

And then this is the last one...I promise...I put in $100,000. I don't know about you, but that sounds like a lot of money to me. But I know people that live in that pay range and even above. In fact, it's not that uncommon in the area where we live in Northern Kentucky/Cincinnati area. Here are the final figures. If you make $100,000 you are in the top 0.08% of the wealthiest people in the world! That also makes you about the 5 millionth richest person.

So here's the question that now has to be asked: If we are living as Red Letter Christians, and really, truly say we believe the teachings of Jesus...when He says, "From everyone who has been given much, much is required." (see Luke 12:48 in its context here) exactly to whom do we think He was talking? And what are we...myself at the forefront...going to do about it?

By the way...I lied when I said $100,000 was the last one. I want you to go over to Global Rich List right now and plug in your numbers. Then ask God what He wants you to do too.

Trying to Put into Words, What is Too Difficult to Speak

Last week I drove to a place I've never been
To meet someone I'd never met
His wisdom I sought
And he was gracious to agree

This place, not far from my beloved
River and Reds and Broadway shows
Was like nothing I've never seen

Boarded windows and empty lots
Broken sidewalks and lonely people
Everywhere I looked brokenness
Brokenness

How can this be so close to hospitals
World class universities, Christian academia,
Art museums and historic homes?

My anticipation of meeting was thick
Delightful interruptions through plate-glass viewing
Were welcome

Human behavior fascinates me
People watching, my favorite hobby
There's a young couple across the room
Probably from the university, visiting "the hood"
Probably cool, probably not intimate
Yet?

We're told to reduce, reuse, recycle
So why is the man in the dirty clothes
Stopping in the road to pick up
Something he can use, an oddity?

That woman in the low-fitting tank top,
Well-endowed with womanhood,
She's either more confident than most women I know
Or can't afford the luxury of a bra

I smile either way

It looks like everyone is going somewhere
And nowhere
But I am here
Beginning to get nervous about
Where the Spirit will lead this conversation

My breakfast partner arrives and is known in this place
I like him already
He knows our server well,
Hugs her tight,
And brings loud sunshine in the room

Introductions and explanations
Why Dale couldn't make it
Maybe next time

He asks my story
My story?

How do you summarize a lifetime of ups and downs?
This is not a chance to air dirty laundry
But a place to share a Journey
And what has brought us here

"The American Dream didn't work for us."

"And we're happy about that."

"Our eyes have been painfully opened
To a world of no American Dreams."

He asks probing questions

How did you get here?
When did it start?
Help me understand your story?
Why urban ministry?
What about your kids?
Do you have community?
No? Why not?
That sucks!

Now hang on and bare with me
Cause here's what I see...

You are not young enough, arrogant enough,
Nor rich enough to serve the Underclass
You are already working amid the Blue-collar Poor.
Why would you go a step lower?

The Blue-collar Poor are the most under-served in America
I know one church
Doing it right
I'll introduce you

Your kids?
Your kids don't stand a chance in streets like these
You'll lose them
They'll feel isolated
Why would you leave the class you already serve?

Single moms, latch-key kids,
Working-class neighbors
Getting Nickel and Dimed (Yeah...read that book!)
They need people like you
Loving and serving

But you need to join with others in community

It will be a small church
An old church
Families that have attended for generations
No dynamic preaching
Just a place to love Blue-collar Survivors

You could befriend polka dancers for all I care
It doesn't have to be a church,
Just join community
Somewhere

You've been hurt
You've lost your net
Look for a place to cast out a new one

I listen intently
And agree with solid truth
I wish everyone had a chance
For penetrating insight
Candid camaraderie
And affirmation of their survival

Mental note-
Affirm others in their survival skills

As we talk and listen
My heart becomes aware of heaviness
I'm as broken as that sidewalk out there
Why?

He speaks truth
I agree with his words
So why am I breaking?

He uses words like underclass and different species.
And I'm sad we've created a sub-level to this life

Why do some never get out of the basement?

And I know he speaks truth,
And I know for our family, he's right
But still, I'm breaking

Why does one baby have a 14-year-old prostituted mother?
And I get an easy ticket in the white burbs?

Why do I have to be young, arrogant or rich
To make a difference in the basement?

He must know my thoughts...
Because it will crush your soul
It will pour you out
Wring you out
Spend you empty
And leave you bare

And I know he speaks truth
And I know for our family,
He's right

But while I'm breaking
Two words keep pushing up against my brain
The pounding rhythm of a throbbing soul

Two little words that nag
Until they won't be ignored

But God!

But God
Could keep me sane
As He keeps me on my knees

But God
Can heal the wings
Of one that never had a chance to fly

But God
Can surround my soul
Through crushing?
Yes, and pain

Doubt
Worry
Evil
Sin
Grief
Despair
Yes-all there!

BUT GOD!

My soul is crying out
I have no money
But God's wealth never ends

I have no youth
But God tells me my marathon never ends
Run the race with Him
When my strength is ending
Fall into Him

I have no arrogance that I am always right
But God would lead and never be wrong
When I join Him in His work
I cannot fail

And I know He speaks Truth
And I know for our family He is spot on
But still my soul is breaking

I choose to drive the city streets
Past the pain
Past the cracks
Past decay
Past a casino that promises big dreams
And a Big River that carries the filth away

Past the million dollar condos
Past the Southern City at the Tip
Past the Basilica where God's beauty is on fire
Past the less urban
Urban town

Past the working-poor neighborhoods
Where one day I think we'll live
Out into commercialization of a beating suburban heart

And I replay
And I process
And I ruminate
And I try to swallow it back down

But my tears are at the edge
They bust through the well of my grief
Spilling down my shirt
Struggling to let go and pull myself together

My kids can't see this weepy puddle
How do I put words to the pain I feel?
Help me God!
I don't understand what is growing in me

It's rage
It's a holy fire
It's indignation at a world
Where the barnacles on the boat of Life
Dwelling under the surface
Are ignored until they've grown so big
We scrape them into a helpless heap.

They pile up
Or kill each other off
We blame them for growing down there
But if we'd just cleaned up
Every now and then
And given them a chance to grow in the Light
We wouldn't have this mess

I don't blame my breakfast guest
He's much wiser
Been walking those sidewalks
Longer than I ever could
He's honest
He's real
And he's kept his tattered faith
And his humor
Both good signs

And I know he spoke truth
And I know for our family
He is spot on

What I can't shake
What clings like dew on my soul
Is that if it were God's Will
And if it's where God wanted us
I'm still just naive enough
To believe

Through all the pain I've known
And the grace I've seen
If it was really the portion He had for me...

But God!