a testimony of treading water, garages and creativity

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

unplugged

It has been a few days, neigh, weeks since I’ve last blogged. I’ve been, as they say in the corporate world, “Out of Pocket.” More like unplugged. Unplugged makes me think of the MTV or House of Blues by the same name where artists play without electronics, making their sound more true, definitely different, and new kind of sound at the root of all their songs.

I spent 7 days in mission with 5 other adult leaders and 14 youth ages 12-18. Yes, this meant no TV, no movies or much internet except on our mobile devices late at night as we prepared to crash for a few hours. We received barely any news about the flooding Iowa, although we did experience a 4 hour delay in Indiana on I 70 where the road was closed. We heard days after the tornado hit Manhattan, KS. Basically, all the normal channels of noise, communication, or news were silenced. Unplugged from our daily existence.

For a week, we served in the Kingdom of God, interacting outside of our comfort zones, serving food and talking to homeless people in parks and in programs such as Sunday Breakfast and St. John’s Hospice. We spent time praying for those in need, cleaning up neighborhoods of weeds and trash, visiting with the wheelchair bound and elderly, learning about other cultures and neighborhoods. We learned, we did what was needed or asked of us in the areas we served, we then came home to ‘normal’ life.

But it doesn’t seem as normal anymore.

It really isn’t the same. Or rather, I am different.

For a week, I unplugged from work, from regular family responsibilities and focused on being a better disciple through service, through looking for Christ in everyone I met. And in that light, it was the most transformational week in mission I’ve ever spent.

Here are just a few people I had the privilege to meet.

Julio was a man in the recovery program at Sunday Breakfast. He and Chef John pretty much ran the kitchen area. Julio looked to be in his late thirties, a slim man of Hispanic descent with several visible tattoos on his neck and arms. After spending 3.5 hours sorting and organizing the kitchen pantry, we worshipped with all the homeless men there for a meal and program participants before serving them dinner at their tables. One homeless man testimony started with, “I thank God for this day.” With no instruments except for the beat kept by clapping hands, we sang hymns familiar and unfamiliar. I could feel the holy spirit in that room.

Julio echoed all statements made by our team with an, “Amen.” Julio radiated gratefulness and thankfulness. He was great with the kids who helped in the kitchen. He was great with those who served food to the homeless at tables and not through a line, the only place I’ve seen do this. My hope is to carry but a small portion of Julio’s example back into my life.

Abdul, a homeless Muslim, was also a cook in army in Germany when the Wall fell. He didn’t like Germany for all its rain and understands the relentless needs of feeding people three squares a day. He had no net of people to fall back on when he went homeless, and has been on the streets for 2 years. Abdul was remaking his sleeping bag bed when we approached him. He has a homemade quilt-tied sleeping bag with actual neck ties at the end so it could be rolled up and fastened. Our conversation went on for about 15 minutes with three youth and myself. The whole conversation was that of mutual interest in understanding who we were as people. He has plans to get back on his feet. My dream is to treat all people with kindness and respect like that conversation was with Abdul.

His name might have been Rudy…but his name has been known to change as Joetta from Hands for Hope said. He was in LOVE Park. One of many men hanging around in the park that evening, ,I couldn’t tell if he was homeless. He said he was now going to have a home as a caretaker of a building, living in an apartment on the premises he received through a pastor. There was no doubt in my mind that Rudy was full of the Holy Spirit as he witnessed to be for over 10 minutes. Rudy loved God more than any sack lunches we were offering. He was well fed on the Spirit. I should be so blessed.

I was introduced to Mary in the common area of a floor at the Simpson House
She was a small lady, light in build in a wheelchair. She talked of Fairmont Park, the largest park in the country and its issues with deer population. We bonded over our love for the movie, “The Quiet Man,” with John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara. She actually visited the location where they built the house Wayne and O’Hara lived in. She was there in the 50’s and has ties in that area. She reminisced about being called a Yank in Ireland.

Bruce was a tray processor and program participant at St. John’s Hospice and in the program. Jerry was a volunteer who also took trays. Both were very positive men whom I helped with trays, speaking kind words to all those who had eaten. We were happy to take the trays of homeless men who were finishing up their casserole, bread, fruit and water lunch. St. John’s served 335 people in 60 minutes in a room that seated only 64 at capacity. This is done every day with all donated foods from area churches and businesses. Efficient yet caring, the homeless have pitchers of water at their tables which are constantly refilled by server volunteers and people to take their trays as they finish. There was a die cut black and white painting called “Christ in the Bread Line” on one wall. It felt like we valued and served all people there with kindness, love and respect that Christ would expect from us.

Anna Kate was our team’s (team “Mad Croc”) Center for Student Mission host this week at mission sites. Anna was great, and also a kindred spirit of the left instead of right turn syndrome. I call it directionally challenged, of which I am a card-caring member. The good news is that we didn’t get lost in ‘bad’ neighborhoods. That was impossible! Anna’s sense of humor and ability to connect us with those at each site was a true blessing. It reminded me that building relationships between unlike people is a very important part of connecting with all of God’s people. Anna reminded me of this part of mission. All relationships are key where we serve. Always.

So slowly, I begin to ‘plug’ in again, but perhaps more selectively. Perhaps more deliberately. I will not engage in the same ways. I holding the true notes of this experience alive, pure, and unfettered by too much noise.

I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord. Blessed is the man who makes the Lord his trust, who does not look to the proud, to those who turn aside to false gods. Many, O Lord my God, are the wonders you have done. The things you planned for us no one can recount to you; were I to speak and tell of them, they would be too many to declare. Psalms 40:1-5

change

Most of us can remember times or places when significant changes happen in our lives. Perhaps these events are graduation, marriage, the birth of a baby, a baptism or confirmation, the death of someone we hold dear. All these are significant events with traditions, ceremonies and acknowledgement that things are changing. Often I’ve noticed this is not often the case in spiritual or discipleship growth, at least not for me. These changes seem more subtle, often persistent until I yield and turn to another direction or another pathway. Such is the case now as I transition to something different.

Learn to do right! Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow. Isaiah 1: 17

This change began on a mission trip to Houston almost 2 years ago. A small but mighty contingent of FirstLighters (Pastors Steven and Ben, 4 young women and myself) went to serve through the CSM (Center for Student Mission) for a week. This was my first week-long endeavor into Mission and I was nervous. This was unknown territory to the urban core and I had no idea what it would be like or how I should act, but something (God) told me I HAD to go. And so after a few weeks of hemming and hawing, I raised my hand to become an adult leader on the trip.

God presides in the great assembly; he gives judgment among the “gods”: “How long will you defend the unjust and show partiality to the wicked? Selah Defend the cause of the weak and fatherless; maintain the rights of the poor and oppressed. Rescue the weak and needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked. Psalms 82:1-4

It was mind-blowing, wholly educational and way, way different than I imagined. It honestly changed my life. You see, I can trace back the decision I made to go to Houston as the starting point for where I believe God wants me to go now.

For the past 6 months I’ve considered moving my service from Worship to the Glocal Missions area of FirstLight with Carol Zimmerman and the rest of the team. This has been influence by books I’ve read, activities I’ve participated in and even what others have said to me. Most importantly, through prayer/talking with and listening to God, this decision has been mulled over and over. Rest assured, this decision has not been made on impulse.

There is, as it should be, always a need for more leadership in Missions. Indeed, I also have a growing passion in this area that can benefit God’s Kingdom, to rally around those who are poor, oppressed and ignored on the fringes of society and world. I really feel that God wants me to serve here.

I will be transitioning at the end of March. You may still see me helping with setup or tear down or singing with the band as continued service in FirstLight ministries, but Ambiance and related duties will be taken over by Jamie Norris and others within the Worship Team. I have learned so much from these 3 years on the Worship team and I will miss it. Yet, I feel that God is calling me to do this. And what I’ve discovered is that gentle persistent voice of change is very hard to ignore.

Woe to those who make unjust laws, to those who issue oppressive decrees, to deprive the poor of their rights and withhold justice from the oppressed of my people, making widows their prey and robbing the fatherless. 3 Isaiah 10:1-3

In Christ we all serve,
Deana

“The test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have too much…it is whether we provide enough for those who have too little.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt