Go + Stay

Two posts ago I wrote an article proposing the gospel impacting the Patient Grower's Network.  That week I prayed for God to open a door, but the Holy Spirit did not open a way.  That is the way things go sometimes, and I trust God for an open door elsewhere.

If you have been reading here in the last year you may remember a post on the Juggalos in downtown Salem, and J.K.'s story.  J.K. and I are still friends and because of her I am getting to know her friends.  I love them.  I don't know how to spend more time downtown which is what it would take.  I could list the ways I'm failing.  The biggest one would be that I am not living in the rhythms of the lives of those God wants to reach.  I swoop in, spread a little love and gospel, and swoop back to Keizer.  What I am doing, stinks.

Missional does not equal just "go" ing.
Missional = GO + STAY

I love this video...



Have you ever heard of the "Person of Peace"?  God opens a door for the gospel with a Person of Peace.  It is based on Jesus' sending out of the apostles.  Jesus commanded them to preach the Kingdom only where they were welcome.  Jesus taught Go + Stay.  Mike Breen teaches in his book Building a Discipling Culture that a Person of Peace:

1.  Welcomes/receives you, listens to you
2.  Serves you

When I read that last year, it freed me up to see who it is that I need to be pouring the gospel into.

The people downtown are SO OPEN to me.  They are so friendly, so lovable.  They have shared their lives openly with me.  They are people of peace toward me.

I have good news.  After a couple weeks, the guys were talking about how everyone downtown has a nickname.  I said, "I don't have a nickname."  One of the young men named Jack looked at me and said, "I know what your name is."

"What?" I asked.

"Your name is Faith.  That's what you represent," he said.

I looked at him for some time, to read his face and his body language.  Was I the kind of faith that was overbearing?  Annoying?  Preachy?  Out of touch with reality?  I didn't see any of that in his body language.  He looked genuinely positive.  My heart swells thinking about it!

There's another older man downtown who was widowed recently.  He goes to the same spot every day for two hours in the afternoon.  He greets every person who walks by, wants to know them all.  He is a believer who wants to share the love of Jesus.  His own son was once addicted to drugs for years but today he is sober and taking care of his family because of the power of God.  He is a natural shepherd with favor of the people.  It is so encouraging to talk to him.  He is also very open to me, totally encouraged by me talking in various forms about God's apostolic impulse.

All the young men respond so positively to this older man.  He was getting out of his car across the street and they all exclaimed his name loudly as he made his way, they were so excited he had come.  He got a nickname too that day.   Jack said, "there is no one as unique as you," to him.  The older man wanted to know why he was unique.  Jack said, "because you are the only older person I know who cares to get to know people, who will actually spend time with them instead of just drive right past them."  Isn't God good?

Jack is an agnostic who thinks the bible was written by men, full of inconsistencies.  Would you pray for this young man?

Here's the rub.  I feel so inadequate.  Let me give you a list of reasons why.  I've got more than one!!  :)

1.   I am a woman.  Yes, so I'm smart-n-stuff but you never know.

2.   My faith is not as strong as I wish it was.

3.   I'm not the best discipler.  I'm more of an apostolic/prophetic than a teacher.  There are others who are gifted at teaching and I sure would like some of those to come alongside.

4.  People downtown are sometimes mentally ill, former criminals, or addicted to drugs.  How can I stay ahead of all Satan's strategies?

I guess this is something for this older man and I to figure out together.  He is struggling with trying to answer the same questions: how do we know when to trust?  I've reached out to the Union Gospel Mission to get a feel for the way things really are and the resources they have available, the real struggles they are already engaged with.

Yesterday evening I went to Sonrise Church, also known as "Stitches."  It is an interfaith discipling ministry across the street from the Salem Conference Center.  I met Bob, one of the associate pastors.  He knows some of the people at Salem First Baptist.  He showed me everything they are doing to reach the young street folk.  One girl got bored waiting for our conversation to end and she came up to Bob and just snuggled in for a hug.  This moved me.  I love this place.

They started off doing an open grill down at the bus depot several years ago.  This developed into a group doing devotions at various places on the street.  In an alley.  On the capitol steps.  Eventually they got themselves a building.

I said to Bob, "You guys are doing everything that I want to do, though I don't want to develop things toward a permanent building with permanent services.  But you've got so much resources.  You have a men's mentoring program.  You have solutions for drug addiction.  I don't have any of that."

He looked me in the eye and said, "You don't need that.  I can tell you having worked here for several years, even when it comes to something like drug addiction: it is the love that sets them free.  That's it.  And it is the only thing that will keep them free.  You've got everything you need, as long as you are filled with love from God."

Ahh!  That was a word from the LORD to me.  So I pass it on to you.  You also are adequate in Christ's love!  God IS love.  All of His Holy Spirit ministry is captured within that powerful love.

I have two women who are praying with me, we are praying for one another's opportunities to advance the gospel.  We've been doing this for a month with one woman, several months with another.  One of the ladies wants to come with me downtown!  So I am planning on picking her up with me as I go.  God is so good to answer my prayers for partnership!

I am also being mentored by the longtime ministry partner of George Patterson.  Ralph Winter, the international missions leader who coined the term "Unreached People Groups" and in so doing catalyzed a new wave of world missions, calls George Patterson one of the top three experts in the world on church growth.  I am so glad for God's favor.  I can't even tell you how special this is to me.

I don't want to do church services - I want to do what is called a people movement toward Christ.  Work within the circle of natural community that exists.  See a few come to Christ and naturally they will reach the rest of their circle.

I don't want church FOR the people.  I want church BY the people, on the street, in the places they carry out life.  Mike Breen says,

I've said it many times: If you make disciples, you will always get the church. But if you try to build the church, you will rarely get disciples.

--  "Why The Missional Movement Will Fail" by Mike Breen

Praises:

For the young men and women who are open to me
For prayer partners who faithfully pray for the people downtown
For seasoned mentorship

Needs:

Prayer
Safety and Wisdom
Teacher(s)
Increased Faith

"Adullam"

In the last couple years this passage has become dear.  It is my testimony. 1 Sam. 22:1-2,

David therefore departed from there and escaped to the cave of Adullam. So when his brothers and all his father’s house heard it, they went down there to him.  And everyone who was in distress, everyone who was in debt, and everyone who was discontented gathered to him.  So he became captain over them. And there were about four hundred men with him.

David was a fugitive.  He never could remain in Jerusalem long so he became a nomad.  For a long time he was alone except for one friend.  And then all of a sudden one day, people saw it for something more and they became a family.

1658, Claude, Landscape with David at the Cave of Adullum

If Sundays and Wednesdays at church are Jerusalem, the remainder of the week is the cave of Adullam.

Life Beyond Jerusalem

I haven't been satisfied by inviting friends to church.  It isn't enough.  When a person responds, "yes I'll come," sometimes they have come and never heard the gospel.  Sometimes they may have heard it but they seemed not sure why they should think the gospel was significant to them.  I refused to just "let them go."  If they didn't want to come to church, I told them the gospel.  Sometimes while standing on the sidewalk outside our home, or wherever else was convenient.  I wanted them to understand this invitation He gives to see Him as real in our life.

Sometimes they would say, "Yes I believe that," but they didn't seem to respond at the level of their soul.  I could have just let them go, again, but my concern that they understand what Jesus has done, and it moved me to try to invite-in the wonder of God.

Finally, some started seeing Jesus for themselves.  Which was wonderful!  And yet I should not be surprised!  "So then, faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God."  But they would come to church and feel weirded out by one aspect or another.  They think that they can't be Christians unless they do everything we do.  Which is just not true.

So I have ended up showing people how to live for the Kingdom, or at least doing my best to testify about that, inviting them the way Jesus invites me daily.  To not worry about whether they understand worship music, and not worry about bible studies which are overwhelming like homework, or not worry about why their clothes are different than most everyone else.

If anyone's leading, they lead me.  I want to know as much as they do how to see a viable Jesus outside of Sundays and Wednesdays.  These unchurched Christians are largely available and interested to play around with what following Jesus looks like outside of those structured times.

I like them better than I like myself.  They know how to take care of people like a real family.  They know what freedom ought to smell and look like.  Most of all they are SERIOUS about lavishing grace on broken people even if they have to do it in an earthly manner till they meet the means of grace in the person of Jesus.

They aren't bogged down by years of thinking about church like I do and so they bring an awareness of life with the King that I would never have noticed otherwise.  In fact there has been such success in seeing the King outside of Sundays and Wednesdays that now several longtime churched Christians, and even the de-churched, are purposely joining the rest-of-the-week band.  The harvest is plentiful.  Where?   Perhaps for Americans, the question isn't where but WHEN.  The harvest is plentiful during the rest-of-the-week, when people are eager to see the King, come, in their very existence.

This is my testimony: It is possible to follow Jesus and not fit into the typical experiences of going to church as we know it.

Indeed: THERE ARE MANY MORE WHO CAN FOLLOW JESUS THAN THOSE WHO CAN UNDERSTAND OUR WAYS OF DOING CHURCH, than we could have dreamed.  They just need someone to help them seek the Kingdom with vitality, in their own way of living life!  All their sin issues can be and are being conquered by the same Holy Spirit.

The "unchurched" have a King, too.  This King is the same as everyone else's.  He leads them with the same vitality as He leads those who attend Sundays and Wednesdays.  My passion is still, that the unchurched would come to church.  Some may be able to bridge that gap to perceive their place in a regular church service, eventually, while some never will and that's ok.

Why do I suggest that there is some invisible wall forcing me to juggle life between the unchurched and the churched?  Only because of one reason: I invite people to come to church, and they don't see Jesus right away, for some strange reason.

This is a challenge to develop myself as missionary.  The problem isn't who I've invited, the problem isn't my church.  It's that they need someone who will be a gap-stander.

Perhaps that what the discontented saw in David: a true ruler over the City, yet one who had legitimacy in life as an outsider.

I myself love church on Sundays and Wednesdays, but I cannot get myself to forget those who do not.  As David one day finally rested, I pray too that I and the people who I share life with can come and experience the joy of being gathered together with other saints.  There is one body, one baptism, and Jesus has took the dividing wall and abolished it through His body.

I long for those reading here to meet some of these.


Note: 'Adullam' is the name of the church started by Matt Smay and Hugh Halter.  I became familiar with the story of their church.  Recently I attended their pre-conference track in Texas.  Then recently I revisited this passage and that name, 'Adullam,' popped right out in my attention.  "Yeah!" I thought with a twinge of jealousy - they are experiencing a similar movement for God, as they found their namesake in this passage.

My World is Already Different

Is it safe to write????

Every time I've tried to start a blog post in the last few weeks, a tragic or horrible piece of news comes in our direction.  Here in the Painter household, we have been subject to secondhand news of upsetting things.  If you are managing your own mental well being and do not want to read of upsetting things, I will list the worst at the end of this post.

Skip this post when it becomes beneficial.

Have your kids returned to public school this week like mine have?  How has it gone for you as a parent?  I posted Psalm 91 on facebook; it is a great set of promises from the Promise-Maker for the concerns of physical safety.  I am praying for my kids every time I drop them off, and we are talking a lot about how to be safe and yet not live with fear.

Lijie has afternoon kindergarden.  I didn't want to be a nuisance as this tragedy was just coming across communication lines on Friday afternoon, but I really wanted to be present for my own sense of protecting my child as he went into his class.  I did not walk down to his class like I have oftentimes, I let him go and then peeked around into the office to speak to the secretary.  I asked,

"Do you have a different protocol for security at a time like this?  I assume you've gathered what happened this morning?"

I paused and waited while she gathered her thoughts.  She replied that she just received an email about their security a few minutes prior.  That there was a police car patroling the local streets around the school... that there were particular staff persons who were walking the grounds of the school at certain intervals.  I nodded my head.

I had seen a police cruiser with his lights flashing as we were driving to the school - only he had pulled over a fellow mother I knew and was giving her a ticket for speeding I assume.  It was a comfort to see the police myself.  Then I said to her,

"Okay.  I am afraid for copycats."

She replied with a "yeah" because we're all trying to take this in without overreacting. I told her with a tear in my eye how much I was thankful for all they do. She was touched and said thank you.

I am curious to brainstorm how I can be encouraging to the school at this time?  I want to help, but I don't think I can do anything to be helpful, except give them winter break to gather their wits and come up with some substantial suggestions.  I assume they will hold meetings for parents to describe their plans and solutions and on that day, I plan to be a part and offer my help.

On Monday (yesterday), things were just as tense.  Taped in the front door window there was a piece of paper which said,

Please have patience with us.  We are currently revising our security protocols for the school.  At this time you may be asked for identification before entering the building.

Well, I paused.  And then I walked inside.  I walk in a lot and have had my children attending this school for 7 years, so they "know" me.  Right?  No.  Here's the deal: Adam Lanza was "known" too.  It doesn't matter how long they've recognized me, or that I'm a parent.  Anyone, anyone can put the children at risk including me.  I stood inside and froze out of respect.  Nothing happened.  There was a teacher leading her students across the lobby area toward the gym.  They followed one another in a perfectly straight line.  The teacher, a beautiful young woman just like at Sandy Hook, stared straight at me, ignoring her students.  She just stood there between me and her students, staring at me, but smiling.

It doesn't matter who I am, I realized. All that matters is whether or not I pose a threat. I was wearing a coat that comes down to mid-thigh. Long enough to conceal a gun and I shook my head later when I thought about it.

I need to be thought of as the bad guy: this is the teachers' job, now. To size up risk, to keep me out. That is exactly what I want for my child while he is at school. I just wish it wasn't happening to me, because obviously I along with 99.999% of people who walk into that building, am not the enemy, but an ally.

My world is different now.

So is my daughter's. Grace came home from school. She said that a week prior they practiced their "lockdown drill." I asked her to explain.

Level 1 This is the level the school is commonly on every day. It means the doors on the exterior of the building remain locked during school hours.

Level 2 All classroom doors must be locked from access in the hallway. Students stay in their seats and class continues.

Level 3 All classroom doors must be locked from access in the hallway. Students are supposed to hide in the corner of the room where there is no visibility from the window on the door, or hide in closets or cabinets. Anything to make the room look vacant.

On the one hand, I was like, wow. That's great. They already have thought through a situation like this. On the other hand I marvel. I never did "lockdown drills" as a kid. We did earthquake drills, and tornado drills when I was in Illinois. I remember learning how my parent's generation had atomic bomb drills. I guess this is the next generation's most likely terror...? What kind of a world does my daughter live in, today? Why should she have to learn how to hide from a gunman... or a team of gunmen?

I drove along Broadway Street, past another elementary school. I saw children outside, lined up against the wall, perhaps preparing for recess. For a moment I thought, "oh my God" ("oh my God" is not a cuss word, it is an address to God directing His attention to a situation that needs Him). A sniper could take them out so easy. The playground is out in front of the school, right next to the street. How can teachers send them out to play? How can they protect them from a gun, there?

Fear creates such a mess. Like the airlines after 9/11, I just wonder if life in schools will ever be the same. I wonder if it is going to be just as bad as that tragedy, just as far-reaching.

This is going to be a hard time as a nation. It is going to be hard on everybody, especially those who directly care for children. I am praying for God to give me wisdom for how to encourage teachers and staff.

Public Places

Secondhand experiences have reached us from the tragedy at Clackamas Town Center Mall. Ben's mother had time off from work as an elementary teacher. She planned to go to that mall the very next day after the shooting. She shops there frequently. It is a suburban, upper-scale mall. Not the first choice for an act of home-grown terrorism. I know that she shops a lot at Macy's. She called to share her experience that night, and Ben lovingly called her the next evening to see how she was doing again. It is hard to imagine her entering that place again.

A couple days later, Ben forwarded me an email from one of his martial arts teachers of the last 9 years. His teacher's email was filled with sadness to share that one of his students, a fellow black belt in their martial art (Kosho Ryu Kempo) and friend of 20 years, Steve Forsyth, was one of the two victims (the male victim) that was killed in the shooting at the Mall. Ben had not met Steve personally, but it certainly made the grief more profound.

And then yesterday, Ben came home from work again after Kempo class. His other teacher who taught him today is a black belt and police officer with Clackamas County. He was called to the scene at the Mall and was one of the first responders as an officer. I asked him what he experienced. He said,

"things that can't be said with little ears present."

Tonight Ben tells me part of his story: that there were well over 10,000 people in the mall. That as a first responder he had to go from room to room to room to release people in hiding. The eerie state of seeing not a soul but hearing Christmas music playing overhead and seeing strollers, purses, food -- everything abandoned in an instant when people ran for their lives.

Personal Relationships

My friend Elena as I mentioned in the previous blog post was murdered. We had known Dave since before he filed for divorce, and Ben and I had built some friendship doing couples things to try and share in life and a sense of understanding. It is difficult of course, now. Ben and I joke how crazy it is that we personally know a murderer. I was told by a certain individual that she was shot in the cranium, however their were multiple gunshot wounds. It's awful. The Statesman Journal reported from police officers that Dave confessed to have thought previously of murdering her in ways other than with a firearm. I don't know if Dave is guilty of having done any wrong. It's not my place to judge; I am quoting what is commonly known. This is quite unnerving, and we occasionally have poured over our knowing him to try and come to the mindset of this outcome, but, of course, we can't understand it. As with the other tragedies, how can someone logically come to the decision to murder, which is by definition not an accident, not self-defense?

We are left picking up the pieces. The local funeral home is trying to arrange for a cost-effective way to get her home. The memorial is this Saturday and they'll release her cremated remains to me so that I can transport her to the church for the service. Tough stuff. I spoke again to Kathie at Victim's assistance and after a few minutes we both felt the need to talk about the national sense of devastation this last week, how everyone stopped processing heartache about Elena while that was happening. Kathie said that she is also working on the case of the victims at Clackamas Town Center. Crazy. She is a great lady. I love her manner. She is slow. Her tone is just perfect for grieving people. I couldn't think more highly of her.

One Thought at a Time

I recognize that I am overreacting, in some ways, to what I see as risk for children to be shot while attending school. I do recognize it. I'm allowing myself the grace to experience it as it comes. I believe this is the only healthy way to do it. I haven't yet processed fear of generally public places, such as the mall, theaters, even church. I'm trusting God, but I just haven't thought out how to be as safe as is attainable without robbing joy for life. I haven't processed yet the fear completely that the people in my own life are people who are possibly capable of doing much harm. I've seen scary moments before in my life, and I felt like I learned the lesson of walking by faith and in victory in Christ, but I guess with each new wound, it must be regained, it must be relearned. And if it takes time, it takes time.

How can anybody not feel like a jerk for having ever felt anger in their heart.... When we can all see the fruit of hate... which is murder? Jesus warned us about this. He said that hate is murder in the heart. These are horrible realities on the human condition. I want Jesus in my life so much more than I did three weeks ago.

If I'm concerned by all this, perhaps there's something wrong with me. Am I too responsible for others? Am I not responsible enough? What am I supposed to be learning about my pride and self-reliance? An unspoken goal I've had for a few years is to be a pastor without the title. Lots of people do this, it's obviously easier than attending seminary. How much does it serve to have the title of pastor or minister? Every Christian is a minister (has priesthood), there is no distinguishing ministers in God's Kingdom but by an exceptional love relationship with God. I can be even less ambitious-minded by not thinking of myself as "Christian". Ministry simply amounts to no more than living life as God intended it in community. Am I able to hear His voice in the place that I am? I could have attended seminary for a few years now. The Spirit asked me about whose kingdom I'm building, and I'm not convinced that seminary is God's best. Life seems too short to secure a measure of authority to interpret the bible by a paper's certification. If God opens doors for me to do all the work of a pastor, church-planter, etc., without ever holding a title I would be as happy as a sunflower in the sun. However, if it turns out I could really stand to grow in Kingdom relevance through seminary, if seminary would make me grow in humility or character then I trust God to lead me in that direction.

What's the Good News?

Psalm 91 has been good news to me. God's word has been good news. And His power has been good news. At a time when I feel my worst... at a time when my head is the least functioning than it's been in a couple years... I can say this: God has favor for me, and it isn't because I am on the ball. It is only because of His grace that He calls me servant in such a state as I am in. I am amazed that the story of my personal life coincides to bless the local sphere.... Translation: I never would have dreamed my friend would leave this earth. If I could change it, I would do it in a heartbeat. But it prepared me a few weeks before the whole nation, the whole culture started suffering with the same issues: Guns. The mindset of murder. Trauma. Feelings of living in an unsafe world. Wanting desperately to depend on the normalcy of people who live around me. How is God not amazing in His plans that He prepared me just a little bit so that I could send the comfort that He has given me to others.... I never saw such a thing coming my way. I would take the entire month back in every aspect if I had a choice. But it never will go back to being exactly the way it was before.

I am proud of my husband. He adds such a love for things that are pure, and patient but consistent boundary for things that are not pure. He understands grace and compassion better than fewer people I've ever known. And most importantly he loves taking risks to affect transformation. I could not have asked for a better life-partner. It means so much to me that we both have a deep, true, unfailing love for people.

God has caused His providence to protect me. Dave called me the day before he allegedly murdered my friend. I didn't pick up the phone. I didn't call him back. He didn't leave a message. At the time I was led to hear, "let the call go." I did. Generally when he calls it's because something is happening with their relationship and he wants me to listen or mediate. Sometimes it is to pick her up. If he had asked me to come and get her on that day or the next, I would have done it. I might have been there the moment that this situation turned for the worst. I've been included in their disagreements at times in the past. These things add up to tell me that God said: No. He was going to make sure that nothing would happen to me. I cannot explain why I was protected. I cannot explain why my friend died. I cannot explain the mystery of God's will. But I am thankful that God protects me. Always, God will protect me until it is also my day to begin eternity at His side.

Ask one of the ten thousand people inside Clackamas Town Center Mall why they were protected from harm and someone else was not and they will probably have no better answers. Some things are just too big for us to explain. Close call? Not by a longshot. God directs me on a level path. I gave my life to Him, and He guards it. Matthew 10:28,

And fear not them which kill the body, and are not able to kill the soul...

Missing my friend. Her life is still unfolding like a gift to me. Look forward to seeing her in eternity so I can tell her again that I love her.

So thankful for the template of one tv show in four iterations all these years. I'm thankful for art. For fanvids depicting the subtle interweavings of significance in the human experience. Life... and your story of it, is art. It is the genius of a Master. Ephesians 2:11 ("workmanship").

I'm thankful for a nation becoming my community overnight. For the fellowship with everyone in recent mourning. For the never-wished-for-but-welcome companionship mirroring this specific battle to recover.

I'm thankful for the chance to absorb all that God has purposed me to become in the image of His Son.



"I'll Be Your Soldier" by Gavin Degraw

Where did all the people go?
They got scared when the lights went low.
I'll get you through it nice and slow,
When the world's spinning out of control.

Afraid of what they might lose
Might get scraped or they might get bruised.
You could beg them, what's the use?
That's why it's called a moment of truth

I'll get it if you need it,
I'll search if you don't see it,
You're thirsty, I'll be rain,
You get hurt, I'll take your pain.

I know you don't believe it,
But I said it and I still mean it,
When you heard what I told you,
When you get worried I'll be your soldier.

Funny when times get hard,
At the last moment when you're supposed to charge,
Always on the longest yard,
Oh, they feel their feet getting cold.

Hiding here, hiding there,
Find them underneath the stairs,
People hiding everywhere,
Trying to be still like a stone.

I'll get it if you need it,
I'll search if you can't see it,
You're thirsty, I'll be rain,
You get hurt, I'll take your pain.

I know you don't believe it,
But I said it and I still mean it,
When you heard what I told you,
When you get worried I'll be your soldier.

My aim is so true,
I wanna show you,
I'll try forever,
I'm never gonna say "surrender".

Summer Bible Studies

I am fortunate to be invited into a mixed-denominational bible study of women. A fellow AWANA worker and I had been talking last Spring about how important unity is in the Body of Christ, and I mentioned my blog somewhere along the way. A few weeks ago she said, "I read your blog and I think you'll be pleased. This study presents the gospel with salvation being a gift of God and given freely. It's all about God's grace and how we cannot earn it, just receive it."

Enjoying God's Grace, by Terry Virgo

I am enjoying it, and at this time I am even hosting it. The former host has recently given birth to her fifth child. The other women and I make for a total of nineteen children which need care as we gather. The system they initiated was to put them outside in the backyard with a sitter and then all of us chip in for payment. So far, so good.

This is an answer to prayer! I've been desiring to have a bible study for the neighbors just out of my reach. Look what God did. It just materialized out of thin air! So all I have to do is rely on Jesus to give me opportunities to run into my neighbor who I've been ministering to, while she's hanging out with some of them that I barely are acquainted with. Yesterday, I got my first chance. I invited this one woman. I'd guess neither of them were impressed at my Jesus-ness. I leave it in God's hands.

This Just In: Apparently, I'm still a dork. Sigh! I'm still caring too much about the answer and not enough, not enough, about people. Talk about defying the point of why I was drawn in.

Enjoying God's Grace has helped me to recognize my blind spot. I have been praying to know His will for me and this is what He's showing me at this time. The people I've known the longest really want me to participate relationally with them again. I don't know what's wrong with me. My family, my longest-time girlfriend... something's gone terribly wrong in my attitude! I'm finding their lifestyle as my own stumbling stone! :( How did this happen? That's not what they should be getting from me.... I want their soul to move! I want to win them for Christ. I don't want to convert them to a list of rules, a conformity of whatever I choose.

I'm repenting and I'm praying. Lord, give me a new heart. This one's grown cold.

The other bible study I'm attending is called Discerning the Voice of God: How to Recognize When God Speaks by Priscilla Shirer, daughter of Dr. Tony Evans who is Senior Pastor of Oak Ridge Bible Fellowship, which was the location of the late Zane Hodges' memorial service held last December. I always appreciate it when I discover unyielding strongholds of free grace people at my church. We're only on the second week but thus far I have found it greatly comforting to see that essentially I have been surrendered and "doing things right" though Priscilla doesn't believe in or teach formulas in our relationship with Him.

Finally... there is a loose cord of wonderful cohorts in my church who have caught me up and I think I may be blessed to host this gathering as well. We have all thought that we should go through the book "Created to be His Helpmeet" by Debi Pearl. The women who want to read it together are from the entire spectrum of opinions on this! It may end up like "The View" where everyone plays an important role in thinking through what it is they believe and why. I have mixed thoughts. I was sort of "raised" in my faith (Jenn) with this understanding of a woman's role and it was delightful. I actually committed myself to being silent in church for a year or two. I'm ready to hear what God wants me to learn.

(This new cover is so Jenn :D I'm blessed to have an awesome threesome)

what if He was done telling His story?

Saturday and Monday I was with my two dear girlfriends, Jenn and Julie. Jenn has been back in Oregon for several weeks because her mother was dying. In fact, Jenn has three mothers; her biological, her step and her foster mother. It was her step-mother and she was dying of lung cancer just as my grandma did. She actually passed away ten days after my grandma.

I was amazed at the similarity of the various concerns and changes that took place both during and after her death, as she told the story of her passing. Now she and her four siblings are trying to decide who gets what and prepare the house to be sold. But this is Jenn's childhood home and parting with it, will be a difficult task. So she is spending her remaining time in Oregon, busy, working on fixing up the place. Busy is an understatement; she has a seven week old newborn, and three other children ages five and under.

The fantastic stand alone peaks dotting the farmland near Lebanon

I drove down to her mother's home in Lebanon, here in the Willamette Valley, to help with the painting of the exterior and the care of the children. There was plenty to do especially when I added my three children. But we had time to talk about things. It has now been a year since her own grandma and tragically her foster sister suddenly passed away as well. Her foster dad had to step down from being an elder to process this shock, which was a huge loss to the church. But Pastor Joe Lombardi is still preaching as their interim pastor. And I am glad for it because he is such a loving and godly man. I certainly feel compassion on that family. Dr. R. preached at family camp, and Jenn enjoyed his sermon and prayed him through it. I forget that he pastored a small church somewhere in the Valley, here, and I wonder which one it was?

She was delighted to hear my encouraging memories. While we were all in college ten years ago I once stayed in this home for the weekend and it was in the living room that Jenn asked me, with that heart of obedience, "Michele, we are going to church tomorrow, and since you don't know any worship songs, I was hoping we could learn a couple so that you can participate." So she taught me the song "Lord I Lift Your Name On High." Then she pulled out "It is Well With My Soul" and asked me "Have you heard the story why this was written?" I had not, and she told me the whole thing to my amazement. I imagine both of us silently appreciated that hymn once more as we scraped and painted.

Four years later Jenn got married. I remember I stayed with her step-mom for a day and we talked personally. Even then she had been fighting against cancer and she had become intimate with Christ through it. In fact she was so attentive and normal toward me, that I remember leaving thinking, I need an older woman mentor who will invest in my life. That was now six years ago. It is because of her step-mom that I sought and found my mentor in Christ who is such to this day.

But... what if this was all there was? What if He were done telling the story of His abundant goodness through my circumstances? What if all the splendor I'd know of Him, was in my past? What if He grew tired of working with me? The Lord gave His Word at today's beginning moment:

"...persecuted, but not abandoned...." 2 Cor 4:9

Funny, how the smallest pieces of scripture speak the loudest, isn't it? The troubles I have now are not signs of being abandoned. On the contrary! They are part of His redemptive design. It is a verse which will comfort my dear bereaved friend.

Blessing came through recalling things which are both her and mine origination stories. I certainly find God's power working through being exactly where He has placed me; here in the Willamette Valley. It is a place that is known for having the lowest attendance in church in the entire country (only five percent attend any sort of church). Knowing this makes me excited for the sake of the gospel. These are the moments and events and people that are creating me into the person God has passioned me to become for His glory. No - He is not done telling the story.

May His will be done.

Have a joyful and celebrant Independence Day holiday!

Steve Saint Came

On March 11th I wrote a post mentioning that Steve Saint was planning to visit our church. Well, he came and it was amazing. My neighbor and I went to church super early, and we got to spend some time hanging out with him before he spoke. What can I say?

Saint lets me have a photo with him, and he even puts his arm around me, that's so sweet!

I took a video with my camera phone, sorry it's sideways but it's the audio that is interesting. Saint discusses how God opened the doors to the U.S. for Mincaye. Together these two men, just through standing side by side one another, testify of God's powerfully transforming grace!



Our sanctuary was packed and when he said he was supposed to wrap it up the crowd let out their grief, so he lingered a little longer to share a little more with us. After our release, all the books and videos available for purchase sold out in about five minutes.

In anticipation of his visit I remembered how one of my college roommates, Julie, who I've written about in my testimony, once wrote her own lyrics for a song. Her inspiration was Jim Elliott. That was back on March 6, 2006. This is a girl who he keeps on pouring grace and honor into my life. I have the very best of friends in her. Her talent is clear!

A picture of Julie and I a couple months back

He Is No Fool
by Julie GaNung

My life does not belong to me
So I must let it go
I can’t really live until I give
What I’m holding on to

Take my comfort and security
Give me You instead
Take what I thought I needed most
Give me a heart for others

Chorus:
He is no fool, who gives what he cannot keep
To gain what he can’t lose
He is no fool, who follows in the path of Christ
Who died that we might live

And everything we thought was gain
Is now lost in Him
The desire to be in first place
Drives us to servanthood

Everything’s turned right-side up
Now we can understand
The promise of eternal riches
Means giving all you have

These lyrics have not been attempted publication, and she may need permission from Elisabeth Elliot. The title of the song is taken from a famous quote of Jim Elliott on October 28, 1949: "He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose."

Thoughts on Brotherhood

Genesis 13:5-9:

Now Lot, who was moving about with Abram, also had flocks and herds and tents. But the land could not support them while they stayed together, for their possessions were so great that they were not able to stay together. And quarreling arose between Abram's herdsmen and the herdsmen of Lot. The Canaanites and Perizzites were also living in the land at that time.

So Abram said to Lot, "Let's not have any quarreling between you and me, or between your herdsmen and mine, for we are brothers. Is not the whole land before you? Let's part company. If you go to the left, I'll go to the right; if you go to the right, I'll go to the left."

Genesis 14:1-2, 11-16

At this time Amraphel king of Shinar, Arioch king of Ellasar, Kedorlaomer king of Elam and Tidal king of Goiim went to war against Bera king of Sodom, Birsha king of Gomorrah, Shinab king of Admah, Shemeber king of Zeboiim, and the king of Bela (that is, Zoar).

The four kings seized all the goods of Sodom and Gomorrah and all their food; then they went away. They also carried off Abram's nephew Lot and his possessions, since he was living in Sodom.

One who had escaped came and reported this to Abram the Hebrew. Now Abram was living near the great trees of Mamre the Amorite, a brother of Eshcol and Aner, all of whom were allied with Abram. When Abram heard that his relative had been taken captive, he called out the 318 trained men born in his household and went in pursuit as far as Dan. During the night Abram divided his men to attack them and he routed them, pursuing them as far as Hobah, north of Damascus. He recovered all the goods and brought back his relative Lot and his possessions, together with the women and the other people.

Abram spent all his resources to recover and advocate his brother, who never recovered from his follies for all the days of his life.

A Humble Seminarian

Today I had the incredible opportunity to attend another free grace seminar at the Grace Seminary of the Northwest.

There was a free lectureship on Praise and Worship given by Dr. Radmacher's son, Dan Radmacher. At some point I would love to share what I learned, which was the contrast between didactic and experiential worship. So interesting!

One seminary student there who has been in all the classes as I, came up and shook my hand for the second time. His name is Steve Dehner. He shared how he had at some point come to cross paths with my blog, and had decided to start his own.

Steve is one of those students who, every time he asks a question of the professor, imparts as much history, context, word study product and doctrinal awareness into the question as he leaves for the professor to respond within. I honestly cannot tell the difference between the depth of his knowledge of the scriptures and the teachers of our courses. (Perhaps that shows you how unlearned I am, and nothing more!) Many times the professors have jokingly referred to him as a "plant in the audience" to facilitate learning for the class.

He and I have very briefly discussed the relationships of free grace theology, and now that I will be visiting his blog I will be discovering his convictions. It is a privilege.

While Steve has addressed free grace relationships in a post, his will is not to have the discord present at his blog site. Please consider this while commenting until he specifies there what he specifically desires.

The Gift and the Prize

40-cent Friendship

Ten years did little to change three girlfriends. We all looked the same as we did when we were in college; same weight, same hair length, same style. Still, we had the same personalities (though all of us have matured a tiny bit).

I think upon what it means to be a friend. There are seasons where circumstances bring strangers together so that they can learn and be challenged and accepted; the crucibles of life. They are the forces that cause people to bond under pressure and proximity. Then one day, those forces are lifted and people drift apart. Is friendship all about the crucibles? If it were, could it really have been a friendship? I ponder.

These two precious girlfriends listened to me say out loud: "I so much hate that 3-to-4-year stint of people coming and then going out of life, that I am determined to never be like that to anyone else." What I said aloud received nods, but those nods were backed up by a complete lifestyle. There was a particular moment when I was trying to purchase a light rail pass in Maryland and the machine took two dollars whole as punishment for not having exact change. I muttered out loud about the rip-off. A minute later, one of these two girls was sticking forty cents into my coat pocket.

"What are you doing?" I asked confused.
"Well, I felt bad that the machine took your refund," she replied.

I was stunned.

Her love is obvious. She has compassion on me. Her friendship is true, and it didn't matter that we don't have so much in common anymore, that we are parted by lifestyle and distance and other friendships closer to home. She loves me. She would give her heart for mine in an instant. And I know it. And it makes all the difference in the world.

I am thankful for those seasons where people get close even though it may eventually end. However, I'll treasure this forty-cent friendship for a lifetime, as it comes and goes through all the years of my life.

Julie

Julie graduates and leaves us for the big city

What G-Nickname are you? "Homie G"

Memories:
The first girl I met was this one, Julie G. She started the whole "G" nickname phenomenon. I pulled up in a car filled with the contents of my bedroom, shaken and scared to leave home. She was completely casual and friendly and helped me unload it in no time. Room 13--the hottest in the house--right above the boiler. We ate dinner together, watched movies together, even brushed our teeth together. She liked to giggle about the small things, like one girl's comment about the bugs that make their way into peanut butter... "Mmm, extra protein," we joked. I then went about making up several colored announcements about the extra protein of our future sandwiches to be collected throughout the house and taped the papers above our door. Then I made some more announcements that room thirteen was the property of the coolest of cools, Homie G.

She took away so much of the stress of my life. Laughing with her was therapeutic, though I don't know if she ever realized what she was doing for me. I know I spent many of those first nights unable to sleep, trying to reconcile my new unleashed freedom with my former abandoned life, listening to Sarah McLaughlin and being sad till the sun broke. She caught me. She eventually asked me what was bothering me. She sat right next to me as I received my first few phone calls from my parents. I am indebted to her in a way I will never be able to repay.

It didn't take long for her to wander into asking me if I had heard about Jesus. I said that I had a little bit. She asked me if I believed in Him. I didn't quite understand, but I said "I think He's real." She later found it a frustrating but important mission to introduce me to the concept that if I did believe in Him then I should also live to please Him, and things like going to a frat party wasn't the best of choices. I had no idea why, in fact I had never been to a party before in my life. After a while though, I came around and her patience, filled with compassion, paid its worth.

Julie was always an adventurer at heart. One day the sun was shining and she said, "Do you see that hilltop over there? I want to climb it to the top." So the three of us did, though in order to succeed we had to make our way through a few yards and several patches of blackberry thorns. She rallied the house to try new things. When we were in SunRiver I tried renting cross-country skis for the hills covered in snow. I had a long, sad Peanuts Charlie Brown tredge on the sidewalk back; I didn't get it. She loved to go on hikes and see new places. The first summer together when I had moved home she came with my family to Silver Falls State Park and did the seven mile hike like a breeze. She also loved to ride her bike and always rode it cross campus. She and I loved the outdoors. We spent time discussing the geology and vegetation everywhere we traveled. Jenn had enough one time and said, "Uhh, I didn't know two people could talk so long about plants and trees!!"

Julie has a special talent to be connected no matter where she goes. Jenn and I are constantly astounded that when we're in a new area talking to strangers she and they end up knowing mutual people. A couple years ago Julie spent a few weeks traveling alone through Europe, and wouldn't you know it that she met a young woman her age who had gone to her church in Eugene for several years. They continued on through a few countries enjoying the company. She remembers every detail ever said by all the people she knows, and she has friends in every town, soon to be every nation! Though I believe she could do well without the insanely tiring attention of Jamaican men. My skinny 5'11" beautiful friends attract attention wherever they go!

I'll never forget what she did for me when we had only known each other for a few months. On Wednesday nights she would come over to my parents' house and sweep me away to church, the first time I attended anywhere in consistency: The People's Church, which was Assembly of God in affiliation. I saw her and many others worshiping. I was not quite so outward in my expression of affection but way down deep inside I was utterly moved. Many times the congregation expressed its worship in dance. I remember Julie getting out in the isles and dancing and inviting me to come with. One time many members came down to the altar area and made a giant circle and everybody held hands and did a dance. I'll never forget these times My Julie G. She took me to her churches whenever we lived together, and I learned so much, and grew so much.

She didn't know her father nearly at all, since he left her mom when she was very young. She wore her weaknesses outwardly, and was not afraid to do so, because she knew that prayer and worship were her way out of the troubles of life.

She is devoted as the LORD is to listen to everyone and not judge them. She is humble and open to anything as long as it isn't improper. To her credit she endured years of living in the La Femme Nikita Lair, as it soon became unavoidedly known when I made several poster collages of images from the tv show and hung them outside in the hallway.

Currently:
Living in Seattle as a manager of other civil engineers working on bridges in the area, for WSDOT. Here are two video projects she oversaw concerning their work:





Amazing!

Jenn

Julie is driving as the three of us are red-bandanna wearing-travelers to southern Oregon

What G-Nickname are you? "Professional Girlfriend (Pro-GF)"

Memories:
Jenn was the boldest of the three occupants of room #2. She introduced me to many new things. One of the first things we did together was go to a tanning salon across from campus. It was only five dollars and I thought it was kinda cool, though when I discovered later in the week that my backside looked like a zebra because of a cheap bed, I decided that I was good as-is. She proved to both Julie and I it was possible that when we are late to church and makeup must be delegated to commuting time, driving with the knees could successfully be done at excessive speeds on isolated country roads the whole way. Her car was the "Chevette," and it was old and unpredictable, nearly legendary. One time she came down with pneumonia and many of us in the lodge couldn't tell if it was time to take her into the ER, but eventually some others carried her body down and I drove her car. We stayed with her till her parents arrived. She ended up needing fluids and turned out okay.

She also introduced me to the practice of skinnydipping. An isolated bend to the Calapooia River was the first place I experienced a current while swimming. I found an intriguing rock in the riverbed, which makes me think of going back one day--it is one of the few gemstone-bearing rivers in the valley. One day she proposed to Julie and I from beneath our window. I have a picture of it though it is hard to capture digitally. The lodge was preparing for their winter-retreat to SunRiver's resort across the Cascade Mountains, and her family let her utilize a broke-down 80s Suburban to carpool several girls of the house. Actually, she was merely parked in front of the house while loading, and got tired of not being heard while yelling up, so she climbed up to the roof of the SUV and serenated her love for all the world to hear.

I got her (and many members of the lodge) into watching La Femme Nikita together, and then we practiced dressing up like Nikita and taking pictures of each other. Julie was a little unsure in our choice of role model, to her credit. At least she appreciated the hilarious answering machine greeting we constructed with the opening soundtrack in the background and our best voices in a low-toned Australian accent. We dyed our hair often. One time she and I strategized on which box to pick to produce her as a strawberry blonde, and no kidding it turned out as orange flames of fire. She wore a bandanna because even she thought it was too much.

We also spent some time kind-of-stalking. She had a crush on a coworker at Safeway and she was friends well enough with him to know where he lived. We absolutely knew better but she couldn't help wasting time and neither could I. At least we learned to employ spy techniques from La Femme.

Jenn was misunderstood by her stepmom, and her dad had become distant. During these times she was informally adopted into the Reese family where she saw passion for our Savior. They attended a church in Halsey, Oregon, population 700. It was a very small church that faithfully preached the Word. The elders of the church were intimately involved in the lives of all its members, and I could tell she was grateful to have their Word-based guidance over her life, filling the gap she longed for in those years. She loved this church with all her heart, and she wanted to share it with us. She talked many times about the stories of faith of its members that inspired her own. Mr. Reese, for example, decided to become a pig farmer in Alaska and his wife took faith in Christ and supported his choice. She would shake her head in wonder and say that that's the kind of wife she wanted to be.

Some of my favorite memories are of those when Jenn took me to her church or overnight to her house. Matter-of-factly she played the piano while letting me read the words to some of the first worship songs I learned, some I remember: "It Is Well With My Soul," "Lord I Lift Your Name on High." One year her church practiced a traditional passover seder and she really wanted me to come. On the way there she explained what a passover was.

There were many times when Julie's or Jenn's or my personal circumstances brought us to tears and frustration. Often we had to make choices between continuing unhealthy relationships or severing them. But the tears we cried were not tears of faithlessness. They were tears that said that life was hard but we knew God was in control. She showed me that she trusted God completely in spite of it all. When these things arose she'd say, "Let's get out of here," and the three of us went on drives in the night till we were in the middle of nowhere on the side of the road, and by the light of the dash we would talk about the Word.

Jenn has a special talent to be able to explain in detail the unique physical structure of any person she meets.

Jenn embodies all that is impetuous and romantic. She achieves the goals of her life with zeal in all matters, balanced with a passion for loving sacrifice. She prays like an apostle. And once when we were driving through Klamath Falls, Oregon and stopped into a random baptist church for services on our way back home, we looked in our cooler to see what was left to prepare for lunch. Raw chicken breasts were pretty much it. In true Jenn style she took the the chicken in-hand and approached an older man and asked him if we could borrow their kitchen for ten minutes to fry them up. I think the guy was a little overwhelmed by a tall beautiful blonde carrying raw meat to say no. That's our Jenn.

Currently:
Living In Baltimore. Recently auditioned for American Idol, Philadelphia. She shares of the experience:

Well, as it tunrs out, its a pretty good sign if the judges ask you to
sing a second song--which my judge did! (yeah! :)) But, in the end, it
was, "You're not what American Idol is looking for, but you sing very
well. Keep singing. Try again next year." --NO THANKS! ;)

Here are some photos from her trip:

Exceptional Exceptions

Myself, Julie and Jenn at our house dance

Here are two people that don't classify as dumb or walkers, in my life. This month marks the ten year anniversary of our friendship. Though we are currently parted by distance, it is tested and true that when we come together again, our hearts are bound just as ever. We are close, and when I say close, I mean that I am sure that they are both all for me and I am all for them.

We celebrated our first Memorial Day weekend by camping at the Jedediah Smith State Park, next to the emerald-green Smith River flowing over rock. I'll never forget the place. Subsequent Memorial Days were spent in the Mt. St. Helen foothills, in Lincoln City at the beach, and in the desert climate of Sisters, Oregon.

Just as vividly I recall studies into the Word. I remember their greek & hebrew aids and concordances which they constantly took advantage of. I remember free-will Julie and calvinist Jenn taking very seriously but respectfully, the issue of predestination. At the time I had almost no idea what they were talking about, but it was never boring. We would often go to Shari's for late night dessert & classwork... and take our bibles. I quickly learned that any time together meant conversation upon loftier things. Just as predictably as life brings controversy, so it went that these two would open up the scriptures to see what God's will would be, and we would pray going in and out of it. It was through having them as my roommates for a year or two of life that I became accustomed myself to love for Him and His words. I was undoubtedly immature, compared to them. But I delighted in their good example and they in my willingness to learn.

We are kindred. Each of us had a strained or absent relationship with our father, and a rocky one with our mom. We clung to each other in those days.

Our birthdays are in January and exactly nine days apart, with Jenn's in the middle.

These two ladies are singlehandedly the reason, as much as is humanly possible, why I became a disciple of Jesus Christ.

Julie and Jenn, this one is for you. The video is a little odd, but the song is a perfect fit...

A slice of Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving Day was fun, but celebrating the holiday is not finished.

As usual my extended family was out of order for the holiday; my mom is an RN and has to recover from night shifts, and my sister and her husband have his side of the family to gather with. And unusually Ben's family was gone this time to California, with his brother too, to spend it at his sister's house. We will celebrate therefore with my side of the family tomorrow (Saturday).

I put the idea in Ben's mind earier in the week to open up our meal and home to another family who were as lonely as we are ;). Becky and her family moved here about a year ago from Idaho and they don't have any family in the area. We go to church together.

Here are some random shots. The ones with the baby and the game "Carcassone" were taken by me, the rest were taken with permission by my daughter Grace:








Okay, this is the only picture that needs a caption: Grace is trying to take a picture of the potatoes being peeled (she's that small to the world!)