Wednesday, January 28, 2009

God's Way


"...As you learn more and more how God works, you will learn how to do your work. We pray that you'll have the strength to stick it out over the long haul - not the grim strength of gritting your teeth but the glory-strength God gives. It is strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy..."

Colossians 1:10&11




Okay, so let's just say it's been a crazy week... or maybe a crazy 5 years.


No matter how many times I have come to the very end of something I love, only to have Jesus meet me and restore my heart (if not the thing I've loved and lost), I never seem to expect him to piece me back together.


I always remember that God is in this, sustaining me and holding me.


But I always forget that he is also working towards resolution.


Granted, it doesn't always look like I wanted it to.


Sometimes his Way seems blurry and distorted.


I usually end up telling him how he SHOULD have brought healing and peace to a situation.


And then there comes a moment when the beauty and love of his Way are brought together in an impossible detail.


The curtain between spiritual and natural; between Divine and human, parts for a split second and I crumble to my knees.


I shake in the presence of his movement; of his obvious planning.


I am always, always so humbled.


How could I be anything else?


My way is revealed for what it is - frail and shallow and self serving.


This IS the pattern.


My life repeats this sequence of events over and over again.


I cannot even tell you how painful this week has been.


I have found myself clinging to God like a little girl.


I feel the pressure of people and questions and I shrink back into the cool folds of his wings.


The weight of his heart beats against my body and I collapse into a heap of emotions and numbness.


Last Tuesday I sensed the Spirit asking me if I was in my marriage. What if everything my marriage had been built on was a lie? Was I in?


Let me tell you that this was a difficult question to ask me.


I am not the kind of woman to survive in a bad relationship.
(but really WHAT woman is?)


In fact, I have already felt the life of my spirit fading.


In the past I have dated abusive guys and suffered the loss of my self.


I have built strong walls to protect myself from those relationships.


I have recently found a new freedom from abusers and there is no way that my heart cried out, "YES! I'm in!"


But I love my husband.


Flaws, wounds, battles, mistakes and all. I love him.


Which led me to let that question sink deep and sear my heart.


It didn't take me long to come to a conclusion.


Joe had left to find truth and healing.


He wasn't surrendering to his flesh and his sin.


So... yes. I am in.


I am in so much it hurts.


Who knows what that would look like?


And in that simple (and overflowing) "yes" I felt strength like never before.


Exactly a week after he left, he came home.


But he came home different.


Not a grand, strong difference.


This is a quiet and broken difference.


This is the first time in 13 years that I have heard such an intense spiritual depth come through his words and his heart.


He is still flawed and he has a lot of brokenness ahead of him.


I could write a small book on what happened in his time wrestling with God, but it isn't my story to tell.


But I do want to say that I have never encountered the power of community like I did in the last week.


There is an intense "glory strength" that comes from a community of people who are praying, and encouraging, and hoping for God's Way to supersede our own ways.


So, thank you.


With all of my heart, pure grace and nothing but grace to you....

Friday, January 23, 2009

Church?


I've gone to church my entire life.


I've been to Sunday School, Youth Group and Adult services.


I've been a leader; I've been a follower and I've even spent seasons of life not going to church at all.


To be honest, I've always seen "church" as a gathering of people for a few hours in a building.


There are programs and classes.


We all get dressed up.


We sing songs.


We listen to the announcements.


We take communion.


We greet our neighbors.


We listen to the sermon and take notes.


We pick our kids up from Sunday School.


We go to lunch.


We go home.


Lately, I have been learning alot about community.


I've read in the book of Acts that the early church made a regular practice of attending a worship service together, eating dinner together and celebrating. They shared everything they had. They made sure everyone's needs were met.


How strange.


Who gave the announcements?


Who headed the committees?


Who handled the sound system?


Who operated the video?


Who ran the church office?


It seems like the early church was more of a commune than a church service.


They ate together every day.


They were always looking out for everyone's needs.


They CELEBRATED.


To be honest, I have had a hard time picturing it.


I've longed for it.


But I haven't been sure what that would like look in America.


Last Monday my husband moved out.


It's not entirely a bad thing. He moved out to find Jesus; to deal with the patterns in his life that just wont die.


We've been moving in and out of sadness and selfishness and destruction for five years.


This is the most honest and healthy place we have ever been.


He is working to come home.


But he is still gone. And I am incredibly sad and lonely.


The day he left my girlfriend Stephanie moved in. The next night her husband and two dogs came too.


They HAVE a house. They HAVE lives.


But they are here, every day and every night.


They have stayed up with me, watching TV till 12:30 in the morning. She has let me pour out my heart over and over again. She has spoken words of hope and celebration into me even though I have been hopeless and grieving.


They have carried the weight of my babies for me. They make lunch and dinner. They change diapers and help with baths. They tell stories and take walks.


I have not, for one moment, felt alone.


Yesterday morning I woke up and realized...


This is church.


Church is sleeping on an air mattress in my son's room.


Church is cleaning my house.


Church is eating every meal with me; constantly letting me know that they are IN this with us.


Church is my girlfriend Alisa showing up without hesitation to let me cry and to fold all my laundry and put it away.


Church is my oldest friend, Nicole, flying in to celebrate my son's first birthday and spending every minute of this weekend with me; helping me process.


Church is my dad taking Aravis to school so that I can go to Holy Yoga.


Church is my mom coming over to watch the kids so I can clean the house for Judah's birthday party.


Church is my cousin bringing vegan ice cream sandwiches over.


Church is Tassie calling me from Belize.


Church is Carol saying, "yep. this is humiliating."


Church is Travis saying that he has hope; that's he's not worried about Joe turning to his flesh.


Church is Jonni calling and Lisa texting.


Church is Bethany coming over for dinner and yoga.


Church is Jennifer offering her empty house for an escape.


Church is countless people I don't even know well writing to say that they are praying.


Church is the community that rises up around you to sink down into a dark, dark place.


Church is holy.


Church is people.


Church is the Spirit of God flowing from heart to heart.


Church is a celebration in the midst of disaster.


Church is not, and has never been, a building or a program.


Church is community.


And I am so glad that I am a part of Church.





Monday, January 19, 2009

The Threshold


Today has been the hardest day of my entire life. I have wrestled; I have surrendered and my heart has been deeply broken.


I have experienced Presence and Loss all in one afternoon.


I am numb.


I don't know how to breath, how to hope... how to move forward.


I have found myself in a new, powerless place. I am so afraid of what might be just around the next corner.


In the very middle of this chaotic upheaval I logged onto facebook (looking for anything to distract me and keep me breathing in and out) and I stumbled onto a note that a friend of mine had posted.


My heart started groaning and pounding. My spirit cried out at the obvious leading of Jesus to these words; as if they were written to me, only to me.


So tonight, as I am finally going to bed; facing sleep and whatever comes to me when I am alone and still and reflecting, I am coming back to the words set before me. I am surrendering to this place where I have nothing; where I am so out of control.


And I am letting my breath be my prayer.


Inhale, Jesus...


Exhale, take your rightful place...




"The future is uncertain; in this uncertainty fear usually consumes us as we anxiously await the unknown. It is not a comfortable space to be but comfortable or not it is where we are.

Richard Rohr, author and priest, names this space, “the space of betwixt and between”, as liminal space. Limina is Latin for threshold. “Liminal or sacred space is when you have left the tried and true but have not yet been able to replace it with any thing else and as Rohr states, “it is a space where human beings hate to be but where the biblical God is always leading them. “When Jonah was in the belly of the whale he was in liminal space. When Israel was wandering around in the desert for forty years they were in liminal space. When Joseph was thrown into the pit by his brothers he was in liminal space; a unique spiritual position where one is finally out of the known, out of the way, out of control. It is not a desirable place to be. But amazingly, because we are out of the known, out of control, and out of the way, God can resume God’s rightful place, arouse the winds of the Holy Spirit to blow across our little lives and create something authentically new for us to behold. As believers in God we can take confidence in knowing that this is always a possibility.We...are in liminal space and although it is not a comfortable place to be my prayer is that we can stay there, out of the way, trusting that we are on the threshold of something new that God is doing. May we wait well and be in prayerful discernment with our brothers and sisters about our future."


(Felicia Smith

Graybeal Associate Rector

St. Mary Magdalene Episcopal Church

Boulder, CO)

Monday, January 12, 2009

The Bride


"Christ's love makes the church whole. His words evoke her beauty. Everything he does and says is designed to bring the best out of her, dressing her in dazzling white silk, radiant with holiness."

Ephesians 5:26 & 27




Have you ever tried to picture the wedding that will take place with Jesus and his Bride?




I used to try to imagine what the Bride would look like; all of us as one. It's almost impossible to imagine. I can't seem to wrap my head around this beautiful, blameless, spotless Bride. If we are ALL in there, what does she look like? How will it even happen?




And, even though I try to see her as sinless, I always see my own failures tainting her; she always pales in comparison to the King of Kings waiting to receive her.




Last Saturday I was in a wedding. The Bride was one of my best friends. I have known her since she was six years old. I've watched her as a child, as a teenager, and now as a woman. I've listened to her cry; I've laughed hysterically with her; I've warned her of the kind of guys she SHOULDN'T date and I watched her willingly commit herself to this final man.




I know her well. I know her strengths and her weaknesses. I know her passion and her heart's desire. I know her patience and her faithfulness. I know her timidity and her fierceness. I have literally observed her life as she grew into this beautiful woman.




And on Saturday, I stood on the stage of the church waiting, with everyone else, to see her walk through those double doors. David Crowder Band was singing, Praise Him and as the song rose the doors swung open. Every person stood to their feet, anxiously straining to see the Bride in her beauty and radiance. The music propelled her further. She floated down the aisle on her Father's arm. Her eyes were set on her groom and I managed one glance to see him watching her approach. He was grinning at the sight of his glorious Bride.




And then I realized that I was seeing the Great Wedding unfold before me. Granted, this was only a shadow, a glimmer, of what was to come. But here it was: the most sacred and beautiful event - the celebration of total union with God Himself!




The most remarkable thing was that we were all looking at the Bride. Every eye was on her. We all wanted to drink her in; her beauty was overwhelming.




Now I can see it.




When we approach Jesus as His Bride, radiant, untainted, glorious - every eye will be on us. We will be so redeemed; so beautiful; so clean that all of heaven will be anxiously waiting to see us glide through those great, sparkling doors.




The King of the Universe will be there, and yet all eyes will be on us. God, in all of His glory, will be bursting with joy and excitement - surely a sight to behold - and yet we will be the center of the celebration.




That makes our future look a little different, doesn't it?




God's love for us is so great that Jesus will be standing, waiting, expectant, overwhelmed with the beauty of His Bride.




At my own wedding, my husband cried more than I did. The moment I stepped through those doors he started to cry. Of course that set off every woman in the church. My brothers cried. Our closest friends cried. Our families cried. People I barely knew, but worked with, cried. We all cried.




We cried because the holiness of the moment was overwhelming. Something sacred and eternal was taking place. We fought so hard to get there and we have been fighting to stay there ever since. But isn't it true that it isn't worth having if it isn't worth fighting for?




I am so excited to say that you are the Bride; you are the one all of heaven has been waiting for. When you stand before him everything he has done to fight for you will be so worth it! Everything you have done to cling to him will be so worth it!




The holiness of that moment is already trickling down into our small and ordinary lives. We can rejoice (or weep) in the presence of such devotion. We can celebrate now, knowing that the wedding is coming; it is almost here!