Mile log: 564
Ben is currently planting our trees.
Hannah and I went a little garden crazy about a month ago, and bought a ton of flowers and plants, and two trees - a peach tree and a dogwood tree (shout out to our beloved South!). The flowers and plants are now in the ground, but the trees have remained in their pots by the shed, waiting pretty patiently for us to give them natural space to grow. The dogwood has been less patient, and the leaves have gotten kind of wilted.
Today is a beautiful blue-sky-75-degree kind of day in Fort Wayne, so Ben asked if he could plant our trees for us. Who is Ben? Ben is, in the words of Jo March, "Here for a brief interlude of sensational experience before succumbing to a matrimonial fate." In other words, he is living in the guys' house behind us this summer, serving as a "temp" in our ministry team, until he gets married in July. He is a good guy, and we enjoy having another brother in our community. And apparently he knows a bit about trees and landscaping...
"We thought we could just put them in the front yard, here... and here..." I waved to general spaces in front the house. Ben grabbed a shovel and a tree, and dutifully headed off to the designated spots, while I went inside to make a smoothie. About a minute later, Ben came in the back door and awkwardly and gently and respectfully as possible, told me that people don't normally plant fruit trees in the front yard. Oh really? And why? "They're just... not really front yard type of trees."
I have no problem admitting that I have no idea what I am doing when it comes to trees. I'm a romantic. So in my imagination, I am brilliant with plants... I sing to them and they grow. I sit beneath them and the foliage thickens. I plant them and their branches reach to the heavens and their roots dig deep to the center of the earth. That is how it works in my mind, which is a magical and terrifying place to dwell in. So when someone tells me that my trees should go somewhere else, it surprises me, but really doesn't surprise me. And I think I'm generally, more often than not, wise and humble enough to take this sort of criticism/advice/redirection. And I was in this case. "Ben, I trust your suggestions. Plant them wherever the Lord leads you to."
It seems that lately I've heard a lot of my friends talking about "putting down roots" - when and where to do it, how and how much and why... Maybe it's this time of life, but so many of us are getting over our youthful, transient, spontaneous lifestyle and are desiring more and more to be in one place and invest deeply there, whether it means buying a house, getting married, having a career... The struggle comes in wanting to also be flexible and Spirit-led, not restricting ourselves to things that could impede our ministry.
The Bible talks a lot about roots - being planted and grounded. In fact, this morning I read in Hosea 14: "Like a cedar of Lebanon he will send down his roots; his young shoots will grow. His splendor will be like an olive tree, his fragrance like a cedar of Lebanon." Besides making me want to buy an olive tree (for my backyard, of course), this verse made me want to become like a cedar tree - so powerful and beautiful and solid and useful. But cedars don't grow in pots. It means I've got to trust the Master Gardener to take me out of the safety of the pot and place me where he wants me to grow - and he knows the best place for that. Of course, I think being rooted in His love and grace is the very best place to be. But as far as physical, relational, occupational location... well I've decided to trust him to pick the best corner of his yard for me, where I can thrive and grow the most.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Miss Ruth
Mile log: 557
"If you cain't fly, you just may as well stay home." - Miss Ruth
Granted, the quote above was in the context of traveling the world, but if you knew Miss Ruth, you may question whether she meant "flying" in the Peter Pan sense, rather than the airline sense. There she was, rocking on her old wooden porch swing with its mint green paint and bright yellow flower cushions... she wore a bright pink shirt with a turquoise jacket and flower-print skirt, and had her colored-blonde hair bobby-pinned to the sides, away from her face... that face that was so animated and joyful, with bright pink lipstick and a few sunspots, probably evidence of her many years as a young woman growing up on the Carolina beaches. She casually fiddled with the wooden cane at her side, like it was more of a bother than a necessary help to her; she would pound it on the ground for emphasis and wave the end of it in all directions, as though she were conducting the telling of her own life stories.
I met Miss Ruth last month at the park, when I had taken my notebook and a pen to sit at the pond and be alone and think. She struck up a conversation with me, telling me that she belonged to Jesus, and asking me how I know that I do too, and inviting me to her house to go swimming in her pool. I found out she is 91 years old, born and raised in the South, and has lived in her current house in the neighborhood for the past 50 years. When I went to visit her house for the first time, I was amazed that she has a very nice 10-foot in-ground pool with a slide and a diving board, plus an acre of fenced-in land, a game room, and a huge patio for playing games, having cook-outs, and swinging on her bench swing. She loves to have people at her house, and has loved that for years and years, and is at her very best when she is hosting people. She loves the Lord, international people, disabled people, elderly people, and the community in general. She is a true kindred spirit, and an answer to prayers, and I am amazed.
Today was my second visit at Miss Ruth's house. When I called and asked if I could come over, she said, "Oh Connie! You wouldn't believe it, God has been so busy around here!" I took her roses and she gave me a cookie, and we sat in the shade and she told me story after story of her amazing life. She and her late husband traveled the world, and when I asked her what her favorite place was that she visited, and she said, "Oh honey, I would go back to Carolina over any of the rest!" Whenever "Carolina" comes up in our talks, her southern-belle accent gets stronger.
Before we left, she stood and stamped her cane and said, "I don't know why I am still here. Sometimes I ask God, 'God, what in the world are you doing?'" It amazed me, to look at this tiny, spunky old woman, who has this huge beautiful property that she is using for community ministry... and she doesn't know why she is still here?! God's working through her, and she just keeps following and obeying him - abiding in him - and he is producing much fruit through her.
Expect to hear more Miss Ruth stories as the summer progresses. :)
"If you cain't fly, you just may as well stay home." - Miss Ruth
Granted, the quote above was in the context of traveling the world, but if you knew Miss Ruth, you may question whether she meant "flying" in the Peter Pan sense, rather than the airline sense. There she was, rocking on her old wooden porch swing with its mint green paint and bright yellow flower cushions... she wore a bright pink shirt with a turquoise jacket and flower-print skirt, and had her colored-blonde hair bobby-pinned to the sides, away from her face... that face that was so animated and joyful, with bright pink lipstick and a few sunspots, probably evidence of her many years as a young woman growing up on the Carolina beaches. She casually fiddled with the wooden cane at her side, like it was more of a bother than a necessary help to her; she would pound it on the ground for emphasis and wave the end of it in all directions, as though she were conducting the telling of her own life stories.
I met Miss Ruth last month at the park, when I had taken my notebook and a pen to sit at the pond and be alone and think. She struck up a conversation with me, telling me that she belonged to Jesus, and asking me how I know that I do too, and inviting me to her house to go swimming in her pool. I found out she is 91 years old, born and raised in the South, and has lived in her current house in the neighborhood for the past 50 years. When I went to visit her house for the first time, I was amazed that she has a very nice 10-foot in-ground pool with a slide and a diving board, plus an acre of fenced-in land, a game room, and a huge patio for playing games, having cook-outs, and swinging on her bench swing. She loves to have people at her house, and has loved that for years and years, and is at her very best when she is hosting people. She loves the Lord, international people, disabled people, elderly people, and the community in general. She is a true kindred spirit, and an answer to prayers, and I am amazed.
Today was my second visit at Miss Ruth's house. When I called and asked if I could come over, she said, "Oh Connie! You wouldn't believe it, God has been so busy around here!" I took her roses and she gave me a cookie, and we sat in the shade and she told me story after story of her amazing life. She and her late husband traveled the world, and when I asked her what her favorite place was that she visited, and she said, "Oh honey, I would go back to Carolina over any of the rest!" Whenever "Carolina" comes up in our talks, her southern-belle accent gets stronger.
Before we left, she stood and stamped her cane and said, "I don't know why I am still here. Sometimes I ask God, 'God, what in the world are you doing?'" It amazed me, to look at this tiny, spunky old woman, who has this huge beautiful property that she is using for community ministry... and she doesn't know why she is still here?! God's working through her, and she just keeps following and obeying him - abiding in him - and he is producing much fruit through her.
Expect to hear more Miss Ruth stories as the summer progresses. :)
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Bruises, addictions, and grace
Mile log: 552
Have you ever read a book, heard a message, or listened to a song that seemed to bruise your soul? It's the kind of thing that knocks you off your feet and throbs for a while, deep and constant, and then lingers longer as a tender, sensitive, and vividly colorful reminder of what hit you. This has happened to me a few times in my life so far, and while it hurts a lot, it is a good thing and I'm thankful for it. Last night, a friend said, "It reminds us that we bleed..." and sometimes we have to bleed in order to heal, grow, and become stronger.
This time the bruise came from a book called All is Grace, about the life of Brennan Manning, author and speaker renowned for his book The Ragamuffin Gospel, among others. I mentioned it a few posts back, and finished reading it this morning. The thing that amazed (and disturbed) me the most was to find out that he was an alcoholic his whole life... it was an addiction that he struggled with and fell into over and over again in big and destructive ways, even in the midst of his amazing ministry of writing and speaking... while his message of grace was inspiring and changing lives all over the country.
Then I thought of Abraham, and Jacob, and Moses, and Samson, and Barak, and Jephthah, and other losers in the Old Testament who are noted in the "Hall of Faith" of Hebrews 11. I get so ticked off when I read their stories: why on earth would God choose to use these guys? It's not even that they were a mess and God fixed them up and then used them... they were a mess their whole lives! Severely insecure, whiny and needy, impulsive, manipulative, unfaithful, and full of themselves. I see a lot of these problems in my own heart, and it isn't pretty, and when I realize how often I give in to these things and violently wrestle with them, I'm amazed at how God continues to use me in ministry, in spite of it all. I think the characters in the Old Testament all had an "alcoholism" of sorts - an internal addiction to something that eased the ache of something deep inside that they may or may not have ever really recognized for what it was. And I have my own forms of alcoholism too.
I think maybe that is what every sin is... the things we run to, to numb the pain of the reality that we are separated from God. And when we come to Jesus and he saves and forgives, there is a shift - we don't need sin anymore because the relationship has been restored - we have access to God, and he is with us, and his power gives us victory over the bondage of sin. But the restoration isn't complete yet, and won't be complete until we are Home with Him... and as the Redeemed, we have that promise and the guarantee of it is the seal of the Holy Spirit, so we should just be able to rest in that promise until it is fulfilled. But we get impatient and restless, and like the Hebrews in the wilderness, we so easily forget the promise. And we revert back to what it felt like to not have relationship with God at all; we translate the small temporary void in our souls into a much bigger, older, and more eternal void (which doesn't actually exist anymore in those who are in Christ!).
But God is so merciful and gracious and patient with us... because even when we forget, He remembers that He redeemed us, and He remembers what is promised, and He knows He will keep that promise and how good things will be when it is fulfilled. Maybe that is why He doesn't give up on us, why He forgives and makes his mercies new every morning, and why He is determined to use us for the praise of his glory and the furthering of his kingdom, even as we wrestle through our mess. And what a beautiful story it is, when we see how God's glory triumphs against all odds - the odds being US, broken and messy and frustratingly forgetful creatures - and no matter what, he still loves us and uses our lives to highlight his love and grace.
Have you ever read a book, heard a message, or listened to a song that seemed to bruise your soul? It's the kind of thing that knocks you off your feet and throbs for a while, deep and constant, and then lingers longer as a tender, sensitive, and vividly colorful reminder of what hit you. This has happened to me a few times in my life so far, and while it hurts a lot, it is a good thing and I'm thankful for it. Last night, a friend said, "It reminds us that we bleed..." and sometimes we have to bleed in order to heal, grow, and become stronger.
This time the bruise came from a book called All is Grace, about the life of Brennan Manning, author and speaker renowned for his book The Ragamuffin Gospel, among others. I mentioned it a few posts back, and finished reading it this morning. The thing that amazed (and disturbed) me the most was to find out that he was an alcoholic his whole life... it was an addiction that he struggled with and fell into over and over again in big and destructive ways, even in the midst of his amazing ministry of writing and speaking... while his message of grace was inspiring and changing lives all over the country.
Then I thought of Abraham, and Jacob, and Moses, and Samson, and Barak, and Jephthah, and other losers in the Old Testament who are noted in the "Hall of Faith" of Hebrews 11. I get so ticked off when I read their stories: why on earth would God choose to use these guys? It's not even that they were a mess and God fixed them up and then used them... they were a mess their whole lives! Severely insecure, whiny and needy, impulsive, manipulative, unfaithful, and full of themselves. I see a lot of these problems in my own heart, and it isn't pretty, and when I realize how often I give in to these things and violently wrestle with them, I'm amazed at how God continues to use me in ministry, in spite of it all. I think the characters in the Old Testament all had an "alcoholism" of sorts - an internal addiction to something that eased the ache of something deep inside that they may or may not have ever really recognized for what it was. And I have my own forms of alcoholism too.
I think maybe that is what every sin is... the things we run to, to numb the pain of the reality that we are separated from God. And when we come to Jesus and he saves and forgives, there is a shift - we don't need sin anymore because the relationship has been restored - we have access to God, and he is with us, and his power gives us victory over the bondage of sin. But the restoration isn't complete yet, and won't be complete until we are Home with Him... and as the Redeemed, we have that promise and the guarantee of it is the seal of the Holy Spirit, so we should just be able to rest in that promise until it is fulfilled. But we get impatient and restless, and like the Hebrews in the wilderness, we so easily forget the promise. And we revert back to what it felt like to not have relationship with God at all; we translate the small temporary void in our souls into a much bigger, older, and more eternal void (which doesn't actually exist anymore in those who are in Christ!).
But God is so merciful and gracious and patient with us... because even when we forget, He remembers that He redeemed us, and He remembers what is promised, and He knows He will keep that promise and how good things will be when it is fulfilled. Maybe that is why He doesn't give up on us, why He forgives and makes his mercies new every morning, and why He is determined to use us for the praise of his glory and the furthering of his kingdom, even as we wrestle through our mess. And what a beautiful story it is, when we see how God's glory triumphs against all odds - the odds being US, broken and messy and frustratingly forgetful creatures - and no matter what, he still loves us and uses our lives to highlight his love and grace.
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