A long time ago, I was bent on being famous in fiber art. Most of my extra time was for this purpose. Weekends, evenings after work 
deep into the night were spent creating art in my studio, honing my craft. My end game were competing in exhibits, selling work and looking towards when I would be a part of museum collections. I spent other time updating a website store, buying supplies, teaching and conversing with other fiber artists to extend my network online. I thought about ideas for creating pieces while I drove to my 9-5 job and sketched out ideas on scraps of paper during droning meetings. I dreamed of quilting patterns as I walked at night and as I did the laundry. And for my efforts, I reaped some benefits of all that energy. But in retrospect it was a lot like spiritually treading water.
A little over 5 years ago, several of the people I know began the journey of starting a new church in our town. We knew it would be lots of work and time commitment, but most of us felt the call to do so. But really, we had no idea what this would really be like. None of us had ever planted a church before. It was about half way through this time that I realized that God really wasn’t in my life that much. I had put God in the garage so to speak. God was still accessible, but truly not part of my daily living space. For most of my life, I gave God little thought outside of any ‘church activity’ such as worship, church events and the like. My life was God or other, not both.
Convenient
Compartmentalized
Safe
But as my service to planting this church increased, I realized this view would have to give way to something else.
Our God is a wild God, and cannot be tamed. God cannot be defined, categorized or controlled. God is God and we are not, no matter how much we try to lord over our lives. I began to understand this as I learned to practice the presence of God, to read the scripture more and wrestle with it, to learn to talk to God anytime. Often my talks or prayers were not the calm, eyes closed version of contemplative prayer. Indeed, I raged and lamented to God with my eyes wide open, openly yelling in protest and anger. But through this God let me rail and wriggle but kept whispering what had to be done next. Then in slow AND in great leaps. . . things starting shifting.
Unnecessary commitments dropped. I spent my time, my energy in different directions, for different reasons. I began to realize that discipleship was more than going to church on Sundays. Discipleship was a mix of joy and sacrifice, sometimes pleasant and often unpleasant and confusing, challenging my perception of the word Christian. This was not the bill of goods my born-again colleagues touted in college. There some tried to convince me that being saved for heaven was within my grasp if I just said a certain paragraph of word and I was ‘in.’ It seemed to good to be true, and now I know it isn’t that easy. This was not what I understood from my UMC roots. This did not fit any of my experiences in various churches and denominations as we traipsed across the country during my husband’s Navy years. God was in my face all the time. God was making me look into the mirror or myself and there when I cringed at what I saw.
For some reason I never put it all together until recently. I am a firm believer that there are many time lines in spiritual growth (not everyone is at the same place at the same time). God uses all in the time that is needed based on who we are. Indeed, I am often more like doubting Thomas than I care to admit. Therefore, I must put myself in the spiritual late bloomer category, giving new meaning to the phrase, “Great Awakening”. I learned that instead of the easy road, discipleship will require much more than just some words, it requires action, a lot of tripping on bumpy roads and several roller coaster rides. It requires constant challenge and transformation. The journey is messy, gritty, and unpredictable. It requires me to be more foolish and less cool. It shows me my pride and humbles me in the same instance. The more I listen to God whispers the less controlled and contained my life becomes. Yeah, God does drive me crazy.
What I do now is so different than 5 years ago. And even in the past year, this has shifted to a more intense focus on areas of concern to God…poverty, justice of the oppressed and mercy. This is so different than me from the past ‘famous artist’ stage where I had no time to commit to service projects or extra money for charities. I read a lot more as well. Bell, Claiborne, Willard, Zacharias, McLaren, Yancey, Wright, Lewis, and Miller have challenged my understanding of Christian
discipleship, service and sacrifice. Now God lives not only in my house, but in other places I go . . . work, play, the kitchen, the bathroom, the backyard and places in between. As my good friend Ben Simpson said last week in his sermon, the spirit of God fills our cups and overflows into our lives and those around us. It seems that right now, I am always stepping in spilled water from my cup or someone else’s. The scales are off my eyes and my lenses are focused on what needs to be done in God’s Kingdom.
I do still create, but with words, not fabrics. I used to write a lot before the artist thing. Now I am back at it, one of my original loves. If only a few people read my blogs, that’s okay. I will still write as it is truly how I process thoughts and this discipleship ride. I still have the studio, but it is for the most part, inactive and I’m not sorry for it. It seems as if others are more concerned about my lack of ‘art piece production’ than I am.
Instead my thoughts are on other things. Mostly Micah 6:8, Isaiah, Genesis 11 and 12, all of James and Jesus.
Now as I drive, do dishes or walk, my creativity focuses on ways to affect what is happening in Darfur, how the children in Tanzania and Uganda our family sponsors are doing, how to help fulfill the needs of the hungry and homeless, what is the best way to be a socially-conscious consumer, how can I pass this passion on to the youth of our church and my daughter and also trying to move towards being as green as possible. My time is also spent talking to God about these things and in prayer for others. For me, this is a better type of creativity. Onward.
My friends, what good is it to say you have faith, when you don’t do anything to show that you really do have faith? Can that kind of faith save you? If you know someone who doesn’t have any clothes or food, you shouldn’t just say, “I hope all goes well for you. I hope you will be warm and have plenty to eat.” What good is it to say this, unless you do something to help? Faith that doesn’t lead us to do good deeds is all alone and dead!
Suppose someone disagrees and says, “It is possible to have faith without doing kind deeds.”
I would answer, “Prove that you have faith without doing kind deeds, and I will prove that I have faith by doing them.” You surely believe there is only one God. That’s fine. Even demons believe this, and it makes them shake with fear.
Does some stupid person want proof that faith without deeds is useless? Well, our ancestor Abraham pleased God by putting his son Isaac on the altar to sacrifice him. Now you see how Abraham’s faith and deeds worked together. He proved that his faith was real by what he did. This is what the Scriptures mean by saying, “Abraham had faith in God, and God was pleased with him.” That’s how Abraham became God’s friend.
You can now see that we please God by what we do and not only by what we believe. For example, Rahab had been a prostitute. But she pleased God when she welcomed the spies and sent them home by another way. Anyone who doesn’t breathe is dead, and faith that doesn’t do anything is just as dead! James 2: 14-26
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