Ocean Waves

A poem I wrote, inspired by the beautiful ocean views and the beautiful ministry I experienced in Portland, Maine... 

The rhythm of the waves --

Reaching out and pulling in

Rolling forth and falling back

Advancing and retreating

Swelling and shifting

Coming and leaving

Exhaling and inhaling and exhaling again.

Constant in its fluidity

Eternal in the temporary

Making all things new and fresh and new again.

Sweeping over sand

Swirling among shells

Washing through seaweed

Crashing against rocks

Transforming everything it touches

In slow, deliberate strokes.

Let me not sit

Still and stagnant

Safe and timid in the shallows.

Give me purpose and freedom on Your open seas --

Breathing Your mercy in and out of me

Casting Your love on dry and parched hearts

Bringing life to dead and dying souls

Filling hollow spaces with Your peace,

And forgotten places with Your hope.

Make me like the ocean waves,

Delighting to move with Your wind and tide, to

The rhythm of Your grace.

~ c. l. chandler

Why I Go to (My) Church

I've been a member of my home church since I graduated high school (about 15 years ago). Since that time, I've been a part of other "faith communities" as well - the church I attended near my college in Greensboro, the campus ministry, a next-gen seeker-friendly ministry, a young-adult Saturday night service, a youth ministry leadership mentor team, my community church in Indiana, an international ministry team, and a young ladies' Bible study. I have been so thankful for all of these experiences, and have grown exponentially in my faith because of each one. But throughout all those years, I still called my home church "home." And this is why...

My Church is my Family. 

It's people who truly KNOW me. Some of them have known me since I was little - they saw me get baptized in a polka-dot bathing suit when I was seven. Others got to know me when I was trying to conquer the world with my crazy post-college Super-girl complex. Others are new friends who are just starting to know me. There are people who have prayed for me physically beside my hospital bed, have prayed for me spiritually as I was full-time on the mission field, and have prayed for me emotionally when I was weary and wounded. They've seen me at my best and at my worst. And they still love me.

And I'm heavily invested in people here. I've cried with those who have faced disease, tragic loss, consequences of poor decisions, and unemployment. I've celebrated births, graduations, engagements, weddings, anniversaries, new jobs, ministry callings, baptisms, salvations, and recommitments. I've watched kids that I taught in youth group, girls study, and Sunday school grow up into godly, passionate, and faithful young adults.  I've mentored teen girls, and sought out the counsel of older women. I try to serve wherever I believe I can do the most good (even if it isn't my favorite role), and I try to challenge the Family to take risks where I see gaps in our ministry to each other and the community.

And I'm not saying my church is perfect - not even close. They drive me crazy sometimes, like family. Some have made decisions I disagree with, some have done and said hurtful things, and some have made mistakes that have had heartbreaking results. But life gets really messy and sometimes ugly when you are in real relationship with people. And unless we want to just sit in the back and be inactive and complacent, ugly and messy WILL happen, because we are human, and we are broken. The key is to be able to press on - to argue, wrestle, apologize, compromise, become humble, be teachable, be flexible, and be willing to try to trust again... to trust that we are all here by the grace of God, and we all - individually and collectively - need Him desperately. I can't give up on the Family when it is imperfect; I need to be a part of fixing our flaws, healing our wounds, making us stronger, turning our eyes more on Jesus. I do this, not because it is easy or pleasant, but because I need this Family in my life. I love them, and they are precious to me.

There are other things I love about my church, like weekly communion time, plurality of leadership, Bible-based teaching that doesn't water down the Truth, and the clearly presented message of the gospel at every opportunity. I love that it is a smaller church, and that we're kind of a ragamuffin bunch of people of all shapes and sizes (literally and metaphorically), and our one real common factor is that we know God loves us, and that has changed us all.

I am the only person my age in my church, and sometimes that makes me feel a bit lonely. I've been tempted to church-hop and "shop around" to try to find where people my age are... But I'm not really interested in churches that are primarily made up of young people, because I really need older people in my life to teach me and set an example. I'm not impressed by loud music or high-tech lighting or a focus on the latest programs, because I think that's all peripheral fluff that takes focus away from what matters most. I'm turned off by churches that think they are somehow special, and invest in making a name for themselves, because I think John was right: "He must increase, and I must decrease." I don't fit in very well in churches that seem to be preoccupied with being cool or hip or even "relevant," because I don't feel like I am any of those things, and Jesus never tried to be either.

I want to be in a church that is about truth and authenticity, and where the Gospel is our focus and source of life and joy and growth. I want to be in a church that is truly built on relationship that is fueled by the love of Christ in us - working hard to maintain unity and transparency within the Family, and working just as hard to reach out and invest in meaningful and intentional connections in our community. To be honest, my church is not there yet, but I don't know of any church that can claim to have all of this completely figured out. But I think this is the desire of my church... I see my beloved Family wrestling and striving towards these things, so I'm hopeful that we will get there someday together... and that is why I go to my church.

Special, but the same

The past few posts are some thoughts I've had and insights I've gained over the past few years regarding ministry with international people. As you can read about, there are some special details to consider and be sensitive to as you seek to relate to people from other countries, other cultures, other world views. There are special ways to approach these relationships, and ways to train and equip yourself to respond well and have effective communication.

The same is true in any ministry you invest in. Youth workers know that each new generation of teens and pre-teens comes with its own unique basket of issues that need to be researched, studied, and committed to prayer. People who serve in disability ministry develop a heightened sense of awareness when it comes to physical and social accessibility and care. Those who choose to live in community with people in poverty learn a different perspective on money, opportunity, and social justice. You may be in prison ministry, college ministry, gang ministry, or pre-school ministry. Wherever you are, whatever your "niche" is, there are special realities, special dialects, special approaches to building bridges with the people who you want to love and serve for Christ's sake.

But here's something I've realized: Wherever you serve, people are people, and at our core (where it matters most), we are all the same. We all desire dignity, purpose, and to know that we are loved unconditionally. We should treat every human life as valuable, and we should seek to learn and understand beyond our own assumptions and agendas.

Consider Jesus' ministry. He connected with people who were poor and rich, young and old, the outcasts and the in-crowd, wise and foolish, religious and criminal, men and women, foreigners and hometown boys, the sick, the disabled, even the dead. He didn't have a "niche" - he just saw people as people who were starving for hope and thirsty for life.

Now, he didn't ignore their distinctions; he addressed them directly, and on more than one occasion waited for the person to own up to it themselves (consider the bleeding woman, the Samaritan woman, the blind man, etc.), because what made them different DID matter. It mattered where and how the bridges were built. He never rejected the opportunity to connect with someone, but he wouldn't put mud on the eyes of the paralyzed man on the stretcher, or tell the poor widow to go away and sell all she had!

But in every single situation, a custom-made bridge was built, and wherever the bridge began, it ended at the same place: Jesus met the person where they were, and led them to the Father.

So build bridges. Seek to understand, humble your attitude, find a common ground, extend a hand of true compassion, wash some dusty feet. And continue to walk along that bridge in the direction of the God who loves us all - who made us all special, and yet the same.

When you invite them into your space...

I really love visiting the homes of my international friends. But I'm limited in the number of houses and apartments I can get into, with my wheelchair. I have a friend who is very allergic to peanuts, so going into a house where peanut oil is used liberally in cooking is not a good idea for her. There may be other obstacles or health concerns that limit the time you can spend in the home of your international friend. But just like speaking different languages, this does not need to be a barrier in your friendship. Inviting them into your space is just as important as being in theirs... and this is something I absolutely love to do.

When an international visits your home, you are the native, and they are the foreigner. So think and pray ahead of time about ways you can make them feel as comfortable and welcome as you possibly can. (This is when visiting their house first can really be a benefit!) Maybe have a comfortable seat available to offer them, and prepare something to drink. I like to keep my pantry stocked with tea and tea cookies! Here's a story about being prepared to be hospitable. Is there something kind and special you could do to honor them? It may be as simple as greeting them at the door in their traditional manner, or turning up your thermostat a couple degrees warmer than normal.

When an international visits your home, they become the learner, and you have the opportunity to be the teacher. This can be a very special privilege for both of you! I've had international friends over for specific things like a traditional American birthday party and Thanksgiving dinner. These are fun times to explain and demonstrate our cultural traditions. If there isn't a "special occasion," make it special by doing things you or your family love. Make a favorite meal like pizza, cheeseburgers, fried chicken, or macaroni and cheese, and introduce your guest to a favorite past time, like a board game, tag-football in the backyard, jigsaw puzzles, Charades, or a TV show. If you normally say a prayer before you eat, explain this and do it. While your routine might seem normal to you, you might be surprised at the response you get from your guest. It is special and unique because it is a glimpse into your life.

It's hard to know exactly how to strike a balance between making them comfortable and giving them a cultural experience. I don't think you need to go so far as eating your meal on the floor with your hands, or trying to prepare some complicated ethnic food. Remember, they have come to your space, to experience how you do things! Wouldn't you feel a bit disappointed if you visited an international home and they offered you a pepperoni pizza from Dominos?

I do recommend that if you are making a traditional American meal, that you include one dish that is a little more familiar to your guest - rice or greens or something. Steer clear (at least in the beginning) of making casseroles where all the ingredients are already mixed together; this makes trying new things intimidating! Don't serve pork or Jell-O until you know your friend well enough to know these are ok, based on their religious background. In fact, it might be a good idea to ask beforehand if there are any foods they are not supposed to eat. As your relationship develops, you could even get together to cook a mixed meal to share. One year for Thanksgiving, we had mashed potatoes, sweet tea, corn, wontons, and sambusa! Here's the story, if you're interested.

Because they are the learner, be prepared to answer a lot of "why" questions... try to anticipate some of these questions ahead of time, and think through good answers, instead of saying "I dunno... that's just what we do." Also take a look around your space through the eyes of your international friend. How does it look different? What do your decorations or cleaning habits say about what you value?

Time is often something we struggle with cross-culturally... If you say "Dinner is at 6," your friends may come early or late, and may hang around a while. In the beginning, meals with short prep work might be best, so as to avoid feeling frustrated over cold dishes or kitchen duty when you want to entertain. As your friendship develops and you gain more mutual trust, you can teach and explain the importance of time sensitivity in American culture. You might be learning to be flexible, but many other Americans will not be so understanding, so this is an important lesson for your friend to learn.

Finally, please remember that hospitality is much more than pulling off the perfect event. Do not get so wrapped up in the plans and preparation that you forget the goal: building bridges and breaking down barriers in cross-cultural relationships. Do this because you love the Lord, and because you want to show love to your international friend.

Where to Find International Friends

Where do you find international friends? Some people take trips to other countries and have incredible, life-changing cross-cultural experiences - and if you are able to do that, I absolutely recommend it. But what if you can't - you don't have the money, you can't take the time off work, your responsibilities at home are full-time, or you can't physically handle a big trip? The beautiful thing is, there are people from all over the world who are moving here! We really don't have to go very far to have a cross-cultural experience. And we don't even need to be in a big city like Chicago or New York, praise the Lord! But your current lifestyle may not put you in the same places as your international neighbors, so you may have no idea how close they are. If you want to meet internationals and make some new friends, you can't just sit where you are and hope they will find you. Here are a few places you could explore:

1. International ministries/organizations

Speaking from personal experience, I recommend that you research what ministries or non-profits are already present in your city. They may function with a small staff and a small budget, but they are often the ones who have the best personal connections with the international population in your community. When I lived in Fort Wayne, I served with International House, which has been serving in the same area for about 15 years, and native Hoosiers are still shocked to discover it, right in their backyard! You may be surprised to learn that there are people in your area who are already providing services for international people. A quick Google search of your city, with key words like "nonprofits and charities" or "refugees and immigrants" could be a good place to start. And of course, don't underestimate the leaders in your church as a possible connecting resource.

There are also bigger organizations that have multiple offices around the country and the world. World Relief and Catholic Charities are just two of the well-known, well-established non-profits that can be found in many cities. Check out their websites below to see if they are near you:

http://worldrelief.org/us-offices

http://catholiccharitiesusa.org/find-help/

2. Resource centers

Many social/community resource centers help international people, such as free medical clinics and language learning centers. The Red Cross, Salvation Army, and the YMCA are also places where families will go for support. You may want to volunteer or find part time jobs in one of these places.

3. Places of work 

Get out of your comfort zone and eat or shop somewhere you don't normally go! Authentic Mexican restaurants, Indian buffets, Chinese take-outs, or Japanese sushi bars are excellent places to try some delicious foods and meet some interesting people.  Also keep your eye out for local ethnic markets or boutique shops to browse and shop in. If it's the real thing, then chances are it's a small family-run business, and the people who work there are from that country. When you find a place you particularly enjoy, make an intentional effort to frequently visit. The owners or servers will start to recognize you and will be more friendly and open to conversation.

4. Churches

In my hometown of Winston-Salem, there are churches on every corner... sometimes two or three on a corner! I notice that some of the signs/marquees are in Spanish or Korean. I also know that there is usually a variety of nationalities represented in Greek Orthodox churches. Pay attention to the signs of churches in your community. Take note of the ones that are written in other languages or have international flags displayed, and maybe skip your church service some week to visit one of these churches. Be prepared to not understand a word that is spoken or sung, and be open to experiencing styles of worship that might look or sound different from what you are used to. This is ok - it's a cross-cultural experience! People will be very curious about why you are there, but will also be extremely welcoming to you.

Do some research, explore a new corner of your town, be an observer and learner... and pray for God to open your eyes to see the nations among us!

International ministry

Those of you who know me well, know how much I love international refugee ministry - learning from other cultures... being in community with people who are incredibly generous and hospitable even when they have very little in material possessions... offering help and hope to people who have experienced great trials and suffering... and witnessing the amazing dignity, strength, perseverance, and love that they hold on to... It's one of my greatest passions; it makes me feel so alive! My heart leaps at the sound of a foreign language, I can't help but smile when my eye catches a brightly colored African robe, and even the sour smell of tamarind recalls beautiful memories for me.

I've come to realize there are many people who don't reach out to international people, simply because they don't know where to begin. What if I can't speak their language? What if I accidentally offend them? What if I don't know how to greet, eat with, or even sit with them? Worst case scenarios can develop in our imaginations, and fear or prejudice or insecurity or ignorance can keep us in our safe, mono-linguistic, uni-ethnic, cookie-cutter world. Because of this, we miss opportunities to learn, serve, receive, give, and grow... and we have a very limited perspective of what God is doing in the world.

So I've decided to write a series of blog posts, with the goal and purpose of encouraging and informing people in how to make international friends. Maybe you don't know where to find them, or you just don't know how to connect with those around you. Maybe you have met some people, and feel helpless in knowing what to do to develop your friendship. I hope that as I share stories, strategies, and bits of truth that I've learned over the past few years, you will feel more confident and excited to reach out, build bridges, and cross cultures, wherever you are.

Reaching the World

Our church has this motto: "Loving God, Loving Others, Reaching the World." In December, I was asked to be the Missionary Liaison for the church. That involves some different responsibilities, and some responsibilities that are still being developed and defined.

We currently support seven missionaries around the world, and two local ministries. I have three main goals while I am in this role:

1. to serve and care for our current missionaries personally, intentionally, and consistently
2. to increase the number of missionaries our church supports
3. to raise the awareness and direct involvement of our church with these missionaries

If you visit our church, you will see in the hallway a wall mural of a world map. All over this map, we have pictures of our missionaries, and a brief description of where they are and what they do. I want people in our church to have a visual reminder to pray for these people on a regular basis. It is easy to forget, especially when people are in a far-off land with limited contact, but they desperately need our prayers!

Also on the wall, we have a mirror, the same size and shape as the pictures. Instead of having a place and description, there is a caption on the mirror that says: "Where is God calling you?" I don't want people to read that and smile and its clever implication, and just walk away. I want people to take a good close look in that mirror, and honestly consider the question, and ask God for an answer. The question for all Christians is not whether we are called to follow the Great Commission or not, but how we are called to follow it.

We all have a role to play - we all have this incredibly Good News to share with someone, somewhere. So what does that look like for you? Where will you go? Who will you tell?

Something New!

I've been silent for a while... I didn't know what to write about, because I didn't know what I was called to invest in, and I didn't know what God was trying to teach me. But lately, things have started coming into focus more.

Some Christian people seem to have a very clear mission in life - whether its a career or field of study, or its a city or country or people group, or its a program or organization or a church. And I would really like to think I have a "niche" - one piece of the world or history to call my own and spend my life on. But the more I try to find and establish it, the more God seems to redirect and redefine it. I know I have two passions: to love and serve international people, and to equip and encourage believers to love and serve international people. But what that looks like and how it plays out keeps shifting so I can't get too comfortable.

I've been learning some things about myself, and how the Lord wants me to live and serve:

Keep alert and look for the ways He is actively at work, and join Him there. When I try to start my own thing, or drag something along that isn't bearing fruit, I burn out and miss out on God's work.

Don't hold on too tightly to anything on this earth. When I do, I start to put my faith and trust in it... and He is very jealous for my faith and trust.

I really can't do anything for God, but He invites me to do things with Him and through Him. Ministry is not about me and what I can do... it is about what He is doing. And He is always doing something new! So I want to share with you the glimpses I get of His work, here and all over the world.

A little woman with a BIG God!

This week I had the privilege of being a part of the annual Vacation Bible School at my home church in North Carolina. It is one of the best things we do at the church, because everyone shows up with their creativity, organization, great attitudes, eagerness to serve, and all the energy they can muster - it is definitely a beautiful picture of the body of Christ working together for the glory of God in our community. 

We don't use any packaged or pre-designed VBS kits... our group always makes up their own theme, memory verse schedule, games, snacks, crafts, songs, contests, and prizes. This year, the story for the week was about the life of the missionary to China, Gladys Aylward: "A Little Woman with a Big God." (Amazing story that I highly recommend, if you haven't heard it!) 

I was a "floating" volunteer, so I helped with check-in, memory verses, prayer room, and counting money. The kids had a "penny march" - brought pennies every night, to raise money for Samaritan's Purse: Operation Christmas Child. They were supposed to put their pennies in two buckets - for the "Boys" and "Girls" - and weigh them to see which group won each night. Superhuman things happen when you set up a contest between little boys and girls! Thing is, the last two nights, there were SO many pennies, the buckets were too heavy to weigh! These 60+ kids raised over $1600 for this great ministry! In the end the boys won, and got to throw cream pies in one of the girl volunteer's faces (not mine!).

Me, Richard, and my nephews at the VBS registration table!

The story of Gladys was really refreshing to me... God was able to do some pretty amazing things through her just because she was obedient to him. She used every opportunity God put in front of her to share the Good News because that was what her whole focus was - she wanted people to know that God loved them, especially people who had never heard it before. She was small and not very physically strong, and not what anyone would consider ideal for an uncharted mission field. But by telling the story of Jesus to mule drivers, and women whose feet she unbound, and children she rescued from the streets, and prisoners who were rioting, and monks in the mountains, she was able to spread the Good News all over the world!

I want to be like that. I want to be so focused on the Good News that I take every opportunity to talk about it, and share it with everyone I meet. Most of all, I want to honor the Lord by obeying his call to go and make disciples to the ends of the earth, and see him do great and mighty things because of his great love for us. I'm a little woman with a big God too!

Farewell to the Hobbit Hole

I said good-bye to the Hobbit Hole yesterday for the last time.  Pictures, books, dishes and music were packed in boxes and bags, so that by the end it didn't look like home anymore... but homes are made of so much more than the stuff that hangs on walls and sits on shelves.

I still remember the first week we moved in, and didn't have any furniture. The people who came to visit didn't mind, they just made themselves at home on the floor, and said we were living "African style." Soon, Jared brought us some tables and Todd gave us some chairs, and who could have possibly known how those gifts would be used until they literally fell apart! Over the past two years, this house became a place of celebration, fellowship, and growth. Brilliant ideas were birthed there, and also carried into reality there; stories were told and art was created and tea was brewed and songs were sung and love was cultivated there. As you can see, we did a lot of eating, laughing, praying, studying, learning, and partying around that table, with friends from all over Fort Wayne and the world.

I hope that everyone who came into the Hobbit Hole felt welcomed and loved. I hope each person knew the grace and peace and love of God a little more when they left. He is the reason this house became a home, a refuge, a classroom, a coffee shop, a work shop... a center of life and community, and it's because of Him that we became a family. I love you with all my heart, and will never forget the beautiful moments we have shared together. 

The usual weekly battle

I took Brie and Hannah to prayer time this afternoon, a regularly scheduled weekly thing that I usually go to while the girls are at work, but today they were free and wanted to join me. Most of the usual family was there, and we prayed about most of the usual things. When we finished, I looked up and Brie looked a little stunned, sitting quietly on the sofa and staring straight ahead. I said her name a couple times and she blinked and followed me outside to the car.

"Well, that was... intense," she finally said. And Hannah agreed with an, "Um, yeah."

"What, you mean the prayer meeting?" I asked. I tried to think back and identify anything particularly strange about the time, but we're not really a charismatic group, and while our times are powerful and precious, nothing crazy stuck out to me.

"I wouldn't call that a prayer meeting," Hannah said, sounding a little overwhelmed. "It's more like... a battle."

"Yeah," Brie agreed, and I could see a dozen adjectives racing through her mind behind her eyes... I know that look - she was trying to find words for her emotion. Crazy? Powerful? Incredible? Ridiculous? Inconceivable?   "I don't know if I'm out of shape or what, but that almost made me catatonic... I could feel the heaviness, the weight of the importance of the prayers... I can't speak. I can't even handle this right now."

I smiled. I knew what they meant. Our group looks simple enough - small people, older people, weak people, people with glasses, people who lose their cell phones, people with Midwest accents (yes, Indiana, you do have an accent here!). "Not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were influential, not many were of noble birth..." But we have more in common than our unassuming facades; inside we are warriors, and we wield powerful weapons against the enemy of souls.

We love our friends so much that we are willing to fight for them - for their freedom from sin, death, fear, and shame, and freedom to live with peace, hope, joy, and love. We know there is an evil villain who wants nothing more than to steal, kill and destroy anyone he can. We also know we serve the great, victorious King and we know we can boldly approach his throne of grace with confidence on behalf of our friends. Today Eldon pointed out that we may be the only people on earth who are lifting up these friends of ours by name to our Father - what a weight of honor and responsibility that adds! What a privilege to be the warriors on the front lines fighting for them!

That is why we pray - not because we feel weak and incapable of doing anything else, but because we are strong and know that prayer is our very best plan of attack against the lies and wickedness of Satan. So if you ever see a small group of common people bowing their heads in solemn and earnest prayer on a Wednesday afternoon together, just know that, even if you cannot see it, there is a fierce battle going on... and we know that God will win.

there are moments...

What moments come to mind when you think of youth ministry?

There are really fun, exciting moments, like spontaneous snowball fights, dance parties, and captive audiences for storytelling. There are sweet, heart-warming moments, like when a kid opens up and starts sharing their heart with you, or when they run to give you a hug, or when they are worried about you when they see you sad or sick. There are powerful moments, like when a kid chooses to do the right thing when it is hard, or when they consider and serve each other, or when they remember and respond to something you said or did that you thought had been lost.

And then there are moments that make you want to scream and storm off and not look back. If you've ever invested your time and energy and heart in a teenager, and if beyond all wisdom and understanding you still love them, then you know what I am talking about. They know which buttons to push and what boundaries to test.

For me, it's most hurtful when I feel like I'm being used as a resource - a car, a bank, a computer, a tutor - and then a teenager flat out says they don't want to spend time with me just to play or chill or have a friendship. And I feel silly and immature and selfish and overly-emotional, and oddly like an annoying "kid sister"... as though everything I do for the teen is to get them to like me and want to be my friend. I shouldn't have that expectation, and I don't even consciously realize that I do most of the time. I do things because I love them - really, truly love them - and I want to see them succeed and have joy and peace in their lives. That's why even when I scream and storm, I come back. But it is hard to love like that and not hope for that love to be returned.

Then it hits me, is that how Jesus feels about me? I mean, I know he doesn't have the selfish, immature attitude that I have, but how does he feel when I come to him with problems and requests, and ignore or avoid time with him when I feel like things are fine? Sometimes I hear him say, "Come rest with me, play, talk, listen, walk with me. I want you to know me more," and I blow him off for "me time." I don't know if he ever feels like screaming and throwing in the towel, but I'll bet he gets very sad. And when I realize that, it makes me sad too... because I love him, just not very well sometimes.

Sometimes I think God has put me in youth ministry just to teach me more about Himself, and what His heart is for me...

Some recent thoughts on ministry

I've been thinking a lot about ministry this week... and how at least in American culture, I think it is a hard thing to stay focused. Even the most well-intentioned leaders and boards and teams can get so distracted by so many things... financial security, social reaction, political correctness, scales, results, measurable goals met, liability, protection, permission, votes, and numbers... so many numbers... so many ways to determine and judge if we are "successful" in our work. Grassroots ministries grow and prosper and get more organized and then more socialized and then more political until they look more like businesses with staffs and balance sheets than anything else.

And this scares and upsets me, because it doesn't look like Jesus. When I study his life, I see that his "big-picture, long-term goal" was to die. And everything leading up to that was simply him offering hope and healing and life and opening people's eyes to the Kingdom. He did a lot of walking, a lot of moving... he didn't have an office that he worked out of or a headquarters where programs happened. He was in homes, by the lake, on a mountain, in boats, under trees, beside pools, and at people's work places.

His "mission statement" was Isaiah 61:1-3, and I can't even imagine how you could measure the results of that or determine when that goal is reached! How many broken hearts did you bind up this year? How many prisoners in darkness have been released? On a scale of 1-10, how much good news has been proclaimed to the poor? That work is not finished yet, and won't be until he returns again! And I think it is an all-encompassing work... not limited to a people group or need or curriculum or social style. It basically was about loving whoever was in front of him at the moment, at any given time.

That challenges me. That has knocked me off my feet, rendered me useless every time I really think about it. Who am I to decide what "my ministry" is, who "my people" are, and when I am finished with the work I start in? It's God's ministry, and I can't tack a name - mine or an organization's or anything else - to it and put it in a mold or frame. God hasn't called me to run a program or lead an event... he's called me to follow him. That is not dependent on money or location or relational status or health... though at times I have tried to make it so. That means I don't actually know from one day to the next what ministry will look like - what He will bring into my life or what He will call me to move into. This is both thrillingly and terrifyingly adventurous, and often gives me heartburn.

He's been shaking things up a lot lately, forcing me out of some sweet and comfortable spots, asking me to do hard things and let go of my own plans. Life looks so different now than it did last year, and infinitely more so than I could have imagined five years ago. How can I formulate a five year plan, or even a six month plan when he is constantly changing and shifting me, my perspective, my work? I'm learning that sometimes I shouldn't fight the shake-ups so much, that more often than not it is just God moving me forward to the next step... because as I refocus and simplify and remind myself to follow him, He takes me deeper, further up and further in to his heart.

The stuff reality shows (and the Kingdom of God) are made of

"You know, we decided they should make a reality TV show out of this trip!" Miss Ann laughed as she said this to my friend, Mandy, Friday at the park. "I'd watch it!" Mandy joked. "We'll let you know what episode you're starring in!" Miss Peggy bantered back. 

I'm pretty sure my very favorite thing in the world to do is invite amazing people into community and ministry life with me. And for the past five days, I got to host a ministry trip for four of my favorite ladies (including my mom!) from my home church in NC. They had heard so many stories about what God is doing here in Fort Wayne, that they just wanted to come up and see it for themselves, and be a part of it for a little while. 

These are no ordinary ladies, either! A reality show might be appropriate, given all the funny stories and moments we shared this week. They were so good-humored and quick-witted, we laughed almost the whole time they were here. 

I loved how, whenever I introduced Miss Gail, my friends would politely shake her hand, until I clarified, "This is Richard's mom," and since Richard is a favorite local hero around here from his summer adventures, each person's face would light up and they would say, "Oh! Richard's mom!" and fling their arms around her warmly. We all love Richard, so it is only natural that we'd love his mom as though she were our own. 

When I brought the four ladies to my college class, I told my students, "Now, one of these ladies is my mother - can you guess which one?" And they all pointed to Mom right away: "That's gotta be her! Same hair, same face, same smile!" 

One night a whole group of teen boys came over for dinner, and as soon as they saw Miss Peggy they adopted her as "Grandma." "And what about me?" Miss Ann said, "I'm a great-grandma!" "Yes," Peggy said, "she's greater than me!" 

They cleaned the Hobbit Hole and tended the garden and cooked all sorts of fun things... They met a lot of my friends and ministry partners and students and local family... They were teachers and learners, hosts and guests, grandmas and great-grandmas, researchers and story-tellers. And they delighted in every new thing they did, whether it was planned or spontaneous. 

It was so beautiful to me, how they jumped right in, waist-deep into community. They engaged every person they met, fully and with genuine joy, oozing with life and wisdom and light. At the same time, they were spunky and energetic and a little flamboyant, and I thought they seemed like little girls wrapped in women's clothing. And everyone could tell that God's love was their fuel... why else would women with grandchildren and great-grandchildren drive to Fort Wayne and throw themselves into an organic and unpredictable international ministry with a bunch of 20-somethings? Talk about a crazy adventure! I am so incredibly thankful for these women, and for the standards of faith and obedience they model for me and my friends.

This is the stuff that the Kingdom of God (and yes, really good reality shows) are made of.  

Helping small groups in my class at Ivy Tech

Grandmas serving dinner to the teen boys group

School shopping with Meng Pu's daughters

Guest post from Brandon

Today I really want to share with you something my friend Brandon wrote. Brandon is one of my core ministry partners here in Fort Wayne, and is a very dear brother. What he wrote is very authentic, and sounds a lot like our daily lives here - our struggles and the ways God challenges and draws us closer to himself.

~~~

So I was just settling down to do Bible Study and clean when five of the boys showed up. They weren't scheduled to come; we don’t have tutoring today. In fact, they were specifically told not to come, as both The Todd and I have a lot to do around the house tonight. The guys proceeded to just go nuts, nearly burning the house down when they left the ice cream lid on the stove and bumped the burner on. And I was kind of mad at them. I wanted to do my thing tonight, you know?

Anyways, I was very angry internally. Just overly so. After a squirt gun fight that wended in and out the house, against my orders (how dare they?!), it came time to take them home.

I dropped the boys off, silent and brooding.

You see, I’ve struggled lately to see the “holiness of the ordinary”, as someone famous who I don’t care to look up called it (and as someone decidedly not famous has been telling me repeatedly to seek). There are large decisions ahead, and it’s easy to get caught up in dreams, easy to not think about real reasons for doing real things.

After I dropped off my last kid, I headed into WalMart, realizing I was close to my favorite little store and one of the things to do on my list was to go into the toiletry aisle and stare at the cavalcade of choices for twenty minutes before picking out the wrong deodorant, toothpaste, and shaving blades. I literally glared at the People of WalMart. A little out of character, I know. I was just like: “Look at me, people! I’m large and handsome and angry.” You laugh. Those were literally the thoughts in my head. Sin is simple. And it makes us simpletons, eventually obvious to others.

My cashier was sweet. She elicited a sincere reaction from me, the first I’d had in two hours. And that one, small, thing- the earnest way she told me to have a good day, affected me. I prayed as I walked out to my car, which smelled of sweat and Africa, finally, asking my God to humble me. Telling him, confessing that my heart is so far removed. “God why did I view this good thing as such an inconvenience? My heart is wrong.”

I asked for forgiveness and help to simply follow his commands. That was what I realized - I wasn’t following his commands. And leaving WalMart, I saw an opportunity to do so. Scott was sitting there.

I stopped to give the nameless, homeless guy some money, thinking for once not of a redemptive moment for myself, but rather that I shouldn’t let the oppressed retreat in disgrace; may the poor and needy praise his name. And doing pure and undefiled religion to the least of these. For once. Remembering from Micah (6:6-8) that it’s only ever good to obey.

I gave him the cursory once-over that we give. You know, peruse the wear and tear of the cardboard of the sign, and the leather of the face. The openness of the eyes. Deign whether the content of the sign “seems honest enough”… or is boring. This is the once-over I give. The fleeting thought comes in…..”booze and cigarettes and drugs. Why give him money?” But thankfully in this moment the thought, you know, fleeted.

I parked across the street and walked over. Handed him $20, and sat down.

Scott, it turns out, is a people person. Most homeless folks become decent at it by default, of course, but Scott’s always been that way. He worked for Lee’s Chicken, drew up the hospitality training process for them. Then he made seats for GM. Made mistakes. Forged a check. Went to jail. Lost most of his teeth. The ones that remain are yellowed and craggy and spaced unevenly, like a metaphor that I can’t think of. Other than that, though, he keeps himself surprisingly clean. He hasn’t worked for two years.

And it was his birthday. 53, today. As we talked over life’s hardships and blessings, he kept on about how thankful he was. Earlier, he’d received a couple of five dollar bills. He felt like God was blessing him on his birthday. He knew it, actually. And I could tell….the guy was just loving having someone to talk to. We connected over music and expression and people pleasing and working against feeling shame from humanity but being freed from the guilt of sin. And he is definitely ashamed. He does work a bit, and always leaves a little bit of cash if someone puts him up for the night. He has his demons (no Demons, though) but he likes people too much to seem high maintenance if they’ve showed him kindness. He doesn’t look up at folks unless they wave him over to their car windows to drop some cash.

And at some point during this conversation, we started to get interrupted. A lot. People kept calling him over to their cars. He sang (captured it in video), and mid-song he was called over. He let loose with a gut-wrenching spoken word, (didn’t capture it) and was again compelled to stop by a motorist with money. Each time his eyes came back more wet.

“It’s my birthday!” He yelled. “God just keeps blessing me on my birthday!” And then he’d stagger back to me and sit down and look at me super directly, like crazy people do, and say “Anyway who doesn’t believe in God is an idiot. He takes care of me daily. I always have enough to get by.” I like to look at people like that.

He eventually had to give me hugs, overwhelmed with gratitude. His face was befuddled. I imagine that he was more noticeable to people, as a homeless guy in his homeless element having a real conversation with someone who wasn’t homeless. There was something a little startling about it, perhaps, that made it tougher for people to just pass by. Or maybe it was all Jesus, and the human “why” doesn’t matter.

Whatever it was, his last bus came, and my responsibilities remained. We left. We left with his best day of all time, statistically. One hundred and twenty-nine dollars.

And we left on the note that I’d just come and speak to him again. Not money. But words and time if I had it.

My anger is, of course, dissipated. In its place is a little bit of joy and humility, and virtually nothing else. I know my humanity, a little bit. I know my tendency to sin. But, the last verse of Scott’s song rings true.



And I have to ask you: How cynical are you? How did you feel when he said it was his birthday? Was he lying for sympathy’s sake? How about when you heard the amount of money he received today? Indignant? “Hey that’s more than I make?” Something like that? What about me? Have I exploited him so that I can feel good?

I ask, not to indict you, but because I know how I read all too often. How I’ve been trained to process the world around me….with an (un)healthy dose of 21st century self-awareness and snark.

Look, we can always choose to be cynical. Snark abounds. Snark is easy. I could have written a dozen funny, snarky articles in the time it took to write this. Freaking snark.

Genuineness is rare and it is required by our God.

For our boast is this, the testimony of our conscience, that we behaved in the world with simplicity and godly sincerity, not by earthly wisdom but by the grace of God, and supremely so toward you.

And the simple command is to love others as ourselves. If we can, we should. The point of love isn’t to do it only if we know how it’ll turn out. Or only if we can control what happens, and always make sure we’re not enabling.

It’s not even just to help the person.

It is to take action to obey God.

And the King will answer them, 'Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.'


Scott’s last verse rings true. He asked me to let you know.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=ZGF59Yw5idU#t=64

Our Richard

Taking a break today from road-trip reflections to mention our dearly departed Richard. No, he is not dead. On the contrary, he is very much alive - more alive, I think, than the average Richard.

But he had to leave us Monday to return to his home in NC, after spending six weeks with us on the Homestead. Yep, he's been a part of our family, served with us, learned with us, played with us, prayed with us, ate with us, and most definitely consumed large amounts of ice cream with us.

Richard spent the summer learning how to teach an adult Somali man to speak English, working with the youth program at I-House, tutoring a family of international boys, and... frankly, I don't really know the extent of all he did. I just know he stayed busy and did what needed to be done with a smile. Oh yeah, and he fixed our lawn mower and mowed our yard!

Please pray for him! He is starting his senior year of high school and finishing up his Eagle Scouts work and returning to (help lead??) the youth group at my home church. He has grown a lot spiritually this summer, and has a lot to offer - faith, grace, love, and strength to give to those in his community in NC. Pray that God will continue to teach him and use him mightily, and that He will guide him in his daily work and decisions about the future.

This kid is amazing - he has a light in him that we all love and will really miss. Richard (Rick/Richard Parker/Lil' Richard), remember that your family in IN love, support and pray for you! And we hope you'll return to us soon!

The rock-climbing date

You may recall a post I wrote back in January... or maybe not... so here is a quick link to it. Well on the last day of camp I shared some of these thoughts with the girls, as a way to understand "the hope of glory."

"I love this place!" I said. "There is so much to do here... and I love watching you girls do so many exciting things. And I wish I could do them all with you - water skiing, swimming, rock climbing... I've been looking at that mountain all week wishing I could climb it and repel or cliff jump off of it into the lake! That's something I'm really looking forward to in heaven - being able to do all the amazing things I can't do now, with no fear of pain or death or failure...and I want to see you all there. I can't wait to share adventures in heaven with you. "

After chapel, one of the campers came over to me and said, "In case you are wondering what I am doing when you're speaking, I am actually drawing pictures. It helps me focus and pay attention better. So, today I drew this picture of you.."

A pretty good likeness, I'd say! Complete with glasses, wheelchair, and Peter Pan converse shoes. At the bottom of the page, she wrote: "Remember: visit Connie in heaven. Go rock climbing."

This girl is super cool! I got to hear her story later... she was adopted by a Christian woman who couldn't have kids, and she was praying and reading 1 Samuel 1 when she got the phone call that there was a 7-year-old girl who needed a home. The even crazier thing is that this woman had seen the girls' aunt crying alone in a church some weeks before, and had stopped and prayed with her, not having any idea that the lady was crying because she didn't want to put her own niece up for adoption but couldn't afford to care for her. This was probably one of my favorite God stories I heard all week.

That night at chapel, I told the whole group of girls that my new friend and I already have a rock climbing date when we get to heaven. "Any one else care to join us?" I asked, and a bunch of eager hands raised. I looked at my friend, who had sketch pad in hand, and said, "What do you think? Is it ok if our party gets a little bigger?" She smiled really big and said of course it was.

So, in heaven, if you spot me taking on a huge mountain with a contingent of beautiful crazy girls around me, you'll know who they are.

Photo blog: Last day of Camp

Just some special faces I will never forget and always treasure. Not gonna lie, I left the camp Saturday morning with a few tears in my eyes. Camp Imadene is a beautiful place, my new friends are amazing. I'm thankful that our stories have intersected for this one week, and I can't wait to see you all again someday! Prayers, blessings, and love to "ya'll"... :)

New friend, Kirsten! Bead Tent Lady/Fireside Host/Discipleship Crash-Course Co-Leader!

New friend, Ronya! Camp Dean/Devotional Lady/Dinner Buddy!

The epically dramatic Cabin Jubilee!

Enthusiastic Cabin Mt. Hebron!

Crazy gymnastic Cabin Elim!

A Hannah Sandwich on the speed boat!

Friday night chapel - PJ party!

Days 12, 13, 14 - Camp in Picture Form

What a week! So much... so much to say... so today we'll just use pictures to guide an overview of the week... Many longer, deeper, more awesome stories to come... but the lunch bell just rang, so I'm off to get some good camp food! :) 

Hannah and I went tubing on the lake! 

And we went boating too! This is me with Carol and yet another Hannah!

While I did speed boating, Hannah and Deb did more tubing!

Here's some of the girls and cabin leaders out on the lawn during a camp-wide activity. Aren't they super cute?!

And Thursday night was the banquet, and we all got to dress up... here's some of the girls in their pretty dresses! 

Here's our awesome praise band - Selah, Annika, Cody, Quinn, Stephanie, John, and Peter. They did a great job all week leading us in worship! And I loved getting to pray with them every day before chapel! 

During morning chapel, the girls broke into small groups to study the Bible.

An attempt to capture the breath-taking view of the moon shining on the lake late last night.

Day 11 - What's your story?

Today I'm moving my focus from the gorgeous view here to the beautiful people we are meeting! 

I'll tell you later about the 93 crazy, adorable, dramatic, sweet, fun girls who are running around with limitless energy this week. But today I wanna "shout out" to the staff. I've really enjoyed time I get to spend with the staff - they are all so awesome! This is our new friend Rachel - the "Memory Verse Lady", with her two beautiful daughters:

The other night, Hannah and I stayed up late with Rachel and had "story time." I said, "Rachel, what's your God story?" And she said no one had ever asked her that before, but then proceeded to tell us an amazing and powerful story of how God called her to himself. We shared our stories too, and prayed for each other. Yesterday, Hannah and I managed to ask three other staff workers about their stories. Some were more dramatic than others, but all included God calling them, and through different roads he has brought us together here at the camp for this amazing week. 

Since my theme for chapel is God's Story, I guess it's become sort of my ice breaker/conversation starter: "What's your story?" After all, we all have a story, and each of our stories is just a piece of God's bigger story of love and redemption... So think about it today: what's your story?

Hannah and I with the camp directors - Auntie Deb and Auntie Carol!