Category Archives: Following Jesus

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Bleeding with Hope

"Pain is seldom expected nor embraced. When it comes, it is often denied or swept under the rug of ‘God’s Sovereignty’. The Apostle Paul tells us that, as we ‘groan inwardly,’ we ‘wait eagerly’ for our final redemption (Romans 8:23). But few of us enter the tragedy of living in a fallen world and simultaneously struggle with God until our heart bleeds with hope. — Dan Allendar, The Healing Path

Back in June I spent a weekend in Alabama with one of my best friends, KatRose. We hung out at Lake Martin with her close friend Jen, Jen’s mom and a couple of Jen’s friends. It was a very refreshing time.

As we sat at dinner Friday night, Kat queried about my posts here, stating that some had scared her that I was losing my faith in God, because I talked of fighting and wrestling with Him. My other best friend Wendy had spoken of similar fears a while back. I think most people aren’t used to someone so desperately in love with God fighting with Him as much as I do.

Or should that be said in reverse? Someone who fights with God so much couldn’t possibly, in the minds of most, be so crazy in love with God as I am.

I think that’s because people tend to say they are fighting with God when, really, they’re ready to walk away from Him and this is their last, "do it or I’m walkin’" moment with Him.

How do I explain what’s going on with me? I was at a loss as to how to communicate this during my weekend with Kat. But I think I may be able to now.

Love, especially a Father’s love, for me has always meant a stoic non-emotional pattern where love and presence was withdrawn when I stepped out of line. I know that in reality, my dad never withdrew his love. However, to my tender young heart and mind, that’s how his actions were interpreted. And I was the most favored of my dad’s children. He often confided to me his disappointment and frustration in my siblings, something I didn’t want to know — and which led to a pattern in my own life of walking on egg shells, of expecting the best performance out of myself at all times, so I wouldn’t lose dad’s love. And when I did, I worked very hard to get it back and and not allow myself to do something to lose it again. Often that meant not being honest with myself or with my dad about most of the things in my life.

Throughout my life I’ve seen God as somewhat an extension of my dad. I have rarely fought with God, or been brutally honest about the whole of me because I believed if I did, He will withdraw His love and presence from me, just as my dad did throughout his life. It wasn’t until recently that I’ve been able to fight and wrestle with Him from a place of love, and feel like I’m standing in a place of grace and acceptance, no matter how brutally honest and argumentative I get.

The year I was overseas (2002-2003) was so incredibly lonely and pain-filled. I don’t want to belabor this point, because it’s not worth doing so now. But, please understand, it was the most difficult season of my life up to that point, and I was in desperate pain.

That was the year God revealed His deep, passionate, intimate, intense — man, is it intense! — love for me— me of all people! Me, who is obstinant, headstrong, vocal, brutally honest, argumentative, disgustingly messy, amazingly unorganized and ruthlessly lazy. He met me at my every point of need. And I had A LOT. Yet He met me there every single time. Every day, every night, every moment, He made His presence and love powerfully known. My relationship with Him really became a relationship — much more than it ever had been.

Interestingly, during that time I often scoffed at the phrase, "God is my husband". God cannot be my husband, I would whine. He lacks the physical equipment.

Yeah, go ahead… take a moment and digest that…. I can be pretty shallow at times.

Yet I realize now that during that time we truly were becoming Husband and Bride. Our relationship moved from "buddy/pal" — phileo love — to "Bride/Groom" love-affair agapao. Now I really DO feel like I’m married to Jesus, in an emotional/spiritual way. And I wonder sometimes how a relationship with a man is ever going to compare to what I have with God.

Then mom and dad died, my team was disbanded, I resigned from the mission agency I was with and moved back to LA, broke, homeless, jobless, careerless, and most of all dream-less and hope-less. The agony of losses I suffered, and the complete chaos my life has become in the last two years would have, most assuredly, brought me to a breaking point in my faith had it not been for the foundation of passionate love forged by God both in that year overseas, and the two or so years leading up to it.

It’s precisely because of the intimacy and depth of relationship we, Jesus and I, developed during that time that I am held fast to Him, and it set me up to be able to experience, for the first time, what healthy conflict is really all about.

It started with a desperate wailing cry, "If you’re going to rescue me, God, NOW is the time to do it. I need You NOW! Not later, but NOW. NOW is the time of my salvation! Please come NOW and save me! I’m drowning in this flood of emotions and thoughts!"

He came. He fought for me. Smoke billowing from His nostrils and thunder and lightning in His hand. I was rescued. My first "demand" of God since I was a small child, and He responded.

Since that time I’ve tested the "ice" more and more, like an ice skater on a frozen pond in Michigan in April. I poke my angry-confused-frustrated stick into the ice of God’s love to see if it will hold my weight. Each time I poke, I push harder, to the point where now I’m pounding it.

And I am blown away every single time. It holds. He holds. He is not at all like my dad. He doesn’t clam up and withdraw in hurt or punishment when I fight with Him. Instead, He fights back. He meets me right where I am and argues back with me. I feel like Jacob/Israel. Really! God loves me so much that He shows up to the fight and argues His case.

Do you know how amazing that is?? Do you understand the magnitude of this new revelation of His character? To be able to fight with God, and have Him fight back, not back down or withdraw or overpower or squash, or even threaten to do so because He is God. To me, this means that He really is that loving, gracious, compassionate, slow-to-anger, understanding God the Bible says He is. He’s not judgmental. And He’s not just merciful. He’s so strong and confident in His love for me — and so humble! He is Almighty God, after all. He could just quash me for my "impudence". But He doesn’t!! He doesn’t even seem to dream of it — that He’s willing to duke it out with me. He loves me so much He fights with me over things that I’m angry about, or confused or frustrated about. Oh. My. Gosh. He really is the best Husband a girl could ever dream of!

Being able to fight with God has caused me to fall in love with Him even more. I can now be honest with God about the full extent of my pain and my anger, of my wounds and my dark places, because I know He won’t leave me or run and hide His love from me till I "get it right".

Oh, and then there’s the best present of all. You know I said I know what it’s like to be Jacob/Israel. Well, in that struggle God saw that He could not overpower or prevail against Jacob… well, here it is in the Amplified Bible.

And Jacob was left alone, and a Man wrestled with him until daybreak.

And when [the Man] saw that He did not prevail against [Jacob], He touched the hollow of his thigh; and Jacob’s thigh was put out of joint as he wrestled with Him.

Then He said, Let Me go, for day is breaking. But [Jacob] said, I will not let You go unless You declare a blessing upon me.

[The Man] asked him, What is your name? And [in shock of realization, whispering] he said, Jacob [supplanter, schemer, trickster, swindler]! And He said, Your name shall be called no more Jacob [supplanter], but Israel [contender with God]; for you have contended and have power with God and with men and have prevailed.

In my wrestling with God, sometimes I see His point and move a little closer to His thinking. Sometimes, however, I cannot be moved. And, amazingly, I don’t ever feel like God is exasperated with me or surprised or angry that I will not concede to His viewpoint. Sometimes He doesn’t seem to even tell me His point of view; just lets me argue until I’m too hoarse to speak. I get the distinct impression this is how God wants me to deal with Him always. To be brutally honest and to not be moved unless and until I am truly convinced.

I’m becoming convinced of this more and more because, it’s in those times that I cannot be moved that I receive the greatest gift: my own "wound" from our tussle — My heart bleeds with Hope.

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Night Psalm

God–you’re my God! I can’t get enough of You!
I’ve worked up such hunger and thirst for You,
traveling across dry and weary deserts.

So here I am in the place of worship, eyes open,
drinking in Your strength and glory.
In Your generous love I am really living at last!
My lips brim praises like fountains.
I bless You every time I take a breath;
My arms wave like banners of praise to You.

I eat my fill of prime rib and gravy;
I smack my lips. It’s time to shout praises!
If I’m sleepless at midnight,
I spend the hours in grateful reflection.

Because You’ve always stood up for me,
I’m free to run and play.
I hold on to You for dear life,
and You hold me steady as a post.
Psalm 63

It’s been a long 3 years. But as I look back, I can see how God has carried me every step of the way. I can remember all the times I felt His loving arms wrapped around me, holding on to me for dear life. I can see all the times I powerfully felt His presence. I remember times He came to my rescue and fought off the enemy who was nearly succeeding in stealing the last ounce of sanity and strength I had left. Smoke really does flow from His nostrils, the earth really does quake, He really does thunder from heaven and His voice really does resound when He comes in anger (Psalm 18:6-19) to rescue His Beloved ones from the father of lies! There was the time on Easter Sunday 2004 when out of the depths of my agony I cried and wailed as the morning began. He met me in that moment. I really saw the smoke flying from His nostrils as my anguish compelled Him from His throne and to my very side, sword swinging and destroying the enemy as He came.

He brought me out of a disastrous situation and provided for me while I began the long road to recovery in LA. He provided a car for me to drive from one end of LA, where I was staying, to the other, where I was serving at Mosaic, or where I had the women’s Bible study, or where my life group met. God showed me His love through David and Gina, who gave up their second automobile so I could first borrow, then buy, it — even though they have two small children, live in South Pas and David works in downtown. God brought me out here, providing for my needs at just the moment I thought all was lost. He continued the healing He’d begun long ago, took me the next step and then the next, and is still with me every step as we walk together into wholeness.

He continues to heal me, love me, pour His grace and compassion over me as if I were standing under the world’s largest waterfall. He doesn’t just provide what I need. He gives me more. He gives me good gifts! Gifts I know I don’t deserve, gifts so sweet and amazing. A perfect place to live. A job that rocks, and co-workers that are amazing. Sunsets, thunderstorms and the perfect chai tea.


I eat my fill of prime rib and gravy;
I smack my lips. It’s time to shout praises!
If I’m sleepless at midnight,
I spend the hours in grateful reflection.

Because You’ve always stood up for me,
I’m free to run and play.
I hold on to You for dear life,
and You hold me steady as a post.

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Invaded

in·vade v. – To enter and permeate; to overrun as if by invading; infest

Sometimes God just kisses me on the cheek. Sometimes He gives me a whole day full of kisses. Yesterday was one of those days.

From the moment I got up to the moment I fell asleep, I felt wrapped in God’s arms and loved on. At one point, after checking out a wonderful, promising new place to live, I bounded out to my car audibly praising Jesus and telling Him, my answer was yes — and what did He think. We talked together and joked and laughed with joy as I drove to meet up with a new group of friends.

My time with my friends was also amazing. Stimulating,powerfull conversation, insights and laughter all mingled together. The kind I haven’t had here. Oh, how I’ve missed this kind of community! It felt like home.

In the midst of all this, God quietly, gently chided me about some things; attitudes that have crept into my heart. It was an amazing thing, and so different than all the other times I’ve felt His rebuke. It wasn’t harsh, or heavy-handed, or even stern. There was no anger in His voice, no sting in His words, no sense of guilt or shame in my heart. Just quiet love and gentle chiding. I saw the truth in His words and realized something I’d allowed into my heart without ever realizing it. I didn’t sense that this was inherently bad or wrong; just that I needed to recognize and acknowledge its there.

I wonder, has Jesus so invaded my heart and soul that those layers, those filters that caused me to see Him, as a judging God, heavy-handed with my sin, has He so invaded my life that those filters have been stripped away?

Is this who He really has been all along? This loving, gentle, gracious, compassionate, merciful God, who is more concerned that I see what’s in my own heart than how I’ve wronged Him with it? How did I not see this for so long??

Jesus, come and walk the halls of this house
Tread this place and turn it inside out
With Your mercy…
Jesus, teach us the prayers that open these doors
Until Your light floods in and illuminates these floors
And let Your truth be on our steps and in these rooms
Jesus invade…

Invade – By Christy Nockels

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Days Go By

Can you believe it’s already August???? It’s hard to believe over half the year is already gone. It seems so strange to me to think that, in two more days, I’ll have been in Nashville for a year. Wild.

I came with such high hopes and big dreams. I guess that’s the story with just about everyone who comes here. But my dreams weren’t about the music industry. They were about Mosaic Nashville.

I remember dreaming about getting a big old house somewhere near Belmont or Vandy (I
didn’t even know those were "trendy" places at the time) where our team could have meetings and Mosaic LA’s overseas workers (aka missionaries) could stay while visiting our community and sharing what God is doing in their country and with their people. I already had some workers lined up in my mind that I wanted to come — my friends Brian and Lena, Joyce, Brian and Linda, the Clements, the Fudennas, the Harlans, the Burtches…. Oh, I was dreaming big. I had ideas for mission trips and cultural experiences. I was already investigating Nashville’s international flavors and thinking about ways to reach out to the international students.

I had so many hopes for our team! I dreamed of building team unity, of us coming together as co-laborers and growing into close family. No, I never expected us all to be great friends. I dreamed of us being tightly bound brothers and sisters in Jesus. I dreamed of us sweating and toiling and getting gritty and real with one another, and of forever changing the face of Nashville by redefining what it means to be a follower of Jesus (a "Christian") and what it looks like to build community ("church"). I ached for Nashville to know community like I knew (and still know, even though I’m so far away) at Mosaic LA. I still ache for that.

Big dreams. High hopes.

They turned into long days, even longer nights. Realities of team dynamics, of a team who wasn’t indigenous to either Nashville or Mosaic LA (save two of us), lack of team unity, a leader who didn’t know how to build team unity, chaos and lack of planning doomed our efforts from the start. Not to mention the logical chaos of seven people moving to a new city, looking for housing and jobs while also trying to get to know each other.

Then our leader left to take care of urgent personal crises. I was ready to bail. But Jamie, sweet Jamie, came in fighting and convinced me to stay. For a few months I thought perhaps my dreams could become reality. I even dared to dream again; new dreams, altered by the new reality of our little, but growing, Mosaic plant.
But some things end up being too good to be true. And soon enough, change came again, and chaos returned.

Perhaps I’m the only one in chaos now. Perhaps this dream I had wasn’t meant for Mosaic Nashville. Perhaps God has other things for me. I don’t know. I don’t have the answers. I don’t have ANY answers.

But I DO know one thing: God brought me out here. This is where I belong. Maybe not for forever, but definitely for now. I felt it the moment I arrived, and every day since. Even with all the uncertainty in my life — all the where will I live? where will I work? How will I make ends meet? Who will be my friend? — I am still convinced beyond all reason that I belong here. I belong in Nashville. Every fiber of my being shouts it out every day, with every tree, every thunderstorm, every firefly, every sunset, every warm, muggy evening I experience. Its as if I were made for this place. Perhaps it’s just the Crockett blood in me rejoicing that I’ve finally come home…. but I really think its something God put in me long ago that’s finally getting its chance to fly.

I must confess, finding myself feeling once again community-less and once again without a roommate and in need of a place to live by mid-October, feels frustratingly like I have made no progress at all. Yet I know I have. I know so much better whom I can trust (and whom I can’t), what I want, what I need, what’s important, even invaluable, to me, and who I am.

I know these things because God has walked with me every single day of the last year. He’s made His presence powerfully known, whispered His love to me every day, loved on me, talked to me, opened my eyes to new insight and reminded me of lessons past, fought with me, wrestled me to the ground and broken my hip so I’d remember our bout (oh, how I treasure our fights!! The fact that He loves me enough to fight with me rather than just withdraw His love and affection until I "behave" or "get it together" or "live perfectly"!! What a gift it is to be able to get angry and yell and fight back without fear He will stop loving me, or withdraw His hand from me!!). He’s always provided what I need, usually at the last possible second; sometimes I thought He was late, but I was wrong. He has an odd sense of timing that is uniquely His own, but it always proves itself Good. He has taught me so many wonderful things! Given me such incredible gifts! Every thunderstorm, every firefly, every snowflake precious God-kisses on my cheek! By knowing God, and wrestling with Him over the questions in my heart, I know myself better. And I see a little clearer who it is He made me to be, and what He dreams for me.

I know that God gave me passion. And the passions I have, and the dreams borne from those passions, must find a place to nest. As they do, I will become more of the woman God dreamed up so very long ago.

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Dust

I saw a great little DVD called "Dust" last night. Rob Bell talked about being a rabbi’s disciple and what it really means. It was so rich with gold dust, things I’ve heard and yet never knew, things I’d been taught but never understood and things I’d forgotten in the passion of following Jesus.

Like this passage, "Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matt 29:11)

I’ve never really understood that. Someone last night joked that when they were a kid they thought Jesus was talking about egg-yokes. I always pictured one of those wooden things you use to connect two oxen or cows or something together to pull something. You know, the things that look like a guillotine noose, just minus the blade. Nice image to associate with Jesus….

But Rob Bell explained that back in the time that Jesus lived, Rabbi’s often took on disciples. No, they chose disciples. One had to be chosen to be a disciple of a rabbi. And The rabbi chose disciples he believed could learn all that he knew and become like him. It became a saying of a rabbi to his disciple to "take my yoke", which literally meant "become like me." It had less to do with "slavery" or "being bound" to something — as today’s teachings often tell us — than it had to do with learning and becoming.

When you became a rabbi’s disciple, you followed him wherever he went. Often, at the end of the day you would be caked in the mud and dirt of all the places your rabbi had been. It was seen as a mark of a true disciple and a saying arose, "May you be covered in the dust of your rabbi."

I recently found Matt 11:29 in the Message "version" (whatever its called). "Walk with me and work with me–watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly." This really gets that point across; that Jesus, our Rabbi, our Teacher as well as God and Savior and Redeemer and Lord, is inviting us to be like Him. Not just to follow Him, obey Him, learn from Him, but be like Him.

I remember as a child learning that I could be "like" Jesus — that I "should" be like Jesus. But in the same breath, I was told no one will ever be like Jesus because we are just human and He is God. What my child’s mind took away from those lessons is that, while I "should" strive to be like Jesus, I should never expect to be like Him.

As I listened to Rob Bell on that DVD, heard him repeat again, "The rabbi doesn’t choose you unless he thinks you can be like him." I heard Jesus whisper to me, "are you listening? Do you hear? Do you believe? Will you believe?"

Rob went on to explain that when Peter stepped out of the boat and into the water, he was proving he really was a disciple of his rabbi. He was determined to be like his rabbi and do what his rabbi did. If Jesus was walking on the water, then Peter wanted to.

When Peter started to sink, Jesus caught him and gently asked, "why did you doubt?" Who was Peter doubting? Not, Jesus — Jesus wasn’t sinking. He didn’t doubt Jesus, his rabbi, could walk on the water. Peter doubted himself. He doubted that he could do what his Rabbi did. Remember, rabbis chose their disciples based on a confidence the rabbi had that the disciple could be like him.

As Rob explained this, I again heard Jesus whisper, "Do you hear that? Are you listening? Do you believe? I believe. I have faith you can."
These two passages have been rattling around my spirit for several weeks now. God keeps pulling me back to them over and over and I finally see the connection between the two. I see what Jesus wants me learn right now:

I can be like Him. He. Chose. Me. He chose me because He knew I could be like Him. Jesus has faith in me. Isn’t that the weirdest thing you’ve ever heard??? Jesus has faith in US. Jesus has faith that we can follow Him and that we can be like Him. Not just obey. Not just follow. Not just journey together. But be like Him.

Rob Bell closed the study guide with the following words. They have echoed in my heart and spirit since I first read them:

"May you believe in God. But may you come to see that God believes in you. May you have faith in Jesus. But may you come to see that Jesus has faith that you can be like him. A person of love and compassion and truth. A person of forgiveness, and peace, and grace, and joy, and hope. And may you be covered in the dust of your rabbi, Jesus."

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India’s Big Screen Ideas for Jesus Followers

The price for following Jesus in India just went up.

Big-screen infomercial in India discourages conversions – (BP)

The president of the Indian Association of Producers, Artists and Technicians of Short Films and Television Programs, Devendra Khandelwal, said the public service-type short film was made to “educate” cinema audiences about Gujarat’s Freedom of Religion Act of 2003, Compass reported. The law prohibits conversion “by the use of force or allurement or by fraudulent means.”

As described by Compass, the act stipulates that would-be converts must obtain permission from district officials before they convert. Priests or religious officials also must contact district authorities before a conversion takes place. Failure to comply with these requirements can lead to imprisonment for up to four years and a maximum fine of 100,000 rupees ($2,294).

What people don’t get is that the cost of "conversion" is much higher than any monetary price. If not handled properly and with respect for the familial ties, especially one’s elders, the price is exclusion from one’s own family, community and society.

What India needs is not more Christian "converts". What it needs is Hindu Christ devotees, who worship only Jesus because He has proven He is worthy of exclusive devotion; and because of their love and commitment to Him they honor their families, their culture, their heritage and their country. Only then will the great news of Abundant Life in Christ spread across India.

I wonder what the American Church — we who claim to follow Jesus in this country — would look like if we had this obstacle?

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I Don’t Know What I’m Doing

But I’m moving forward anyway.

I’ve been looking around for new places to live. And I haven’t been paying too close attention to my budget to know if I really "should" be looking at places that expensive. Heck, I have a couple of months before I need to move, I guess I could afford a little time to dream (Wendy, are you sure you don’t want to move out here???).

I long for a community, especially one with some of my peers in it. I know that probably sounds retarded, but, well, it’s just that it would be so nice to have some older women here in Nashville I could actually hang out with. I miss my girlfriends back in LA. Women like Wendy, Kat, Leticia, Kim, Kim South, Rachel, Holly, Kristin, Joyce, Deb — and Conna!!!! (who’s no longer in LA). I miss being able to be with women who really understand and get where I’m at in life. Women who get me. Women I can feel comfortable with and just let my hair down; who get my jokes and movie references because they actually saw those movies in the theatre. —- Wow. I never thought I’d say such things. I sound so old, don’t I.

I guess that’s the truth I’ve realized recently. I really am old. At least compared to all these young girls around me at Mosaic Nashville. Youn 20s, some still in college, or just recently out. To them life is fresh and ripe with possibilities. They’re too young to understand crushed dreams, major heartbreak and the crashing in of reality and time. Oh, they think they have. I remember those days. Every new lesson from God was an earthshattering event. Every break up or crush that didn’t reciprocate was cause for deep soul-searching as to what was wrong with me (or him) that it didn’t work out. I was focused on God and living out my dreams and thought I knew pretty much all I needed to know. And every single woman around 40 was a person to be pitied and avoided. Pitied for her sad situation in life and avoided so I wouldn’t have to think about the possibility that I might end up just like her.

But then I got older. My 30s arrived and I started truly appreciating all that older women have to offer. I miss women like Karin, Carol, Kristin, Norma, Laura and Kim who were older and wiser than me and poured into me, gave me such sound counsel and encouragement. Its been hard to be the oldest woman in the group. Heck, the oldest person in the group. And I’m not even 40 yet.

I want to find some community with real women, not young girls still dreaming of womanhood. —No offense to all you 20-somethings out there.

I have found one woman friend, and I think I found another this weekend. It was so good to talk to someone older than me that could understand and relate to all I’ve gone through!! Two is a good start, don’t you think?

So off I go. Into God knows what. Looking for God knows what.

I hope I find it.

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Apology

As I’ve thought over my posts on the Mosaic Nashville forum and over the posts here in my blog, I have come to the strong conviction that I really messed up here.

I have offended many and hurt others — and even done both to many people. That was never my intention or my desire. My blog has always just been an extension of my own mind; a place I could free put in print the things I am currently chewing on or have to say — to whom ever may stop by. It was never intended as a weapon with which to hurt people with my words.

I have heard from someone I care deeply about who shared with me that many of the AM Mosaic people are talking about my posts and wondering what’s going on with me. Because they don’t know me, or know my heart, my words have confused, offended and baffled them. It had been heavy on my heart even yesterday that I had, with all good intentions to the contrary, completely screwed up by speaking up on the forum and leaving links leading here where my words could hurt or offend people I don’t even know yet.

I am deeply grieved by even the possibility that my words have caused hurt and offense when my heart and intentions in writing those words were just the opposite. I’m so sorry!

Will you forgive me?

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Don’t Look Down

"Come," [Jesus] said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!" Matt 14:29-30

Twelve years ago I moved into my first all-by-my-self apartment. I’d always lived with roommates up to that time. I was very scared. I’d figured out that with all my bills I would barely make it to the end of the month on my paychecks. For the first time I would seriously be living paycheck-to-paycheck. If anything went wrong, if anything major happened I’d be in a world of hurt.

But it was the only option for me at the time. I had been without a church home for nearly four years, so I didn’t have a "church resource" from which to find a roommate. And all my friends were happy in their current living situations and not looking, or wanting, to change. So there I was, signing a lease for my very own private apartment.

I was just starting to get my relationship with God back on track after having wandered off during those 4 years. It is really very difficult to keep your relationship with God intimate and growing when you don’t have a community of committed believers around you. I don’t know why, it just is.

I prayed and cried out to God daily regarding my fear over this new situation. — small aside: you may have noted a "small" theme running through my posts; fear tends to be a constant in my life. For many years it factored into all my decisions. But for the last 12 years I have steadily worked to not allow my fear to stop me from pursuing God no matter where He goes, and each time I’ve chosen to step out in faith has taken less time than the choice before. — As I cried out to God in my fear, He led me to this passage and gave me a command. "Don’t look down."

See, Peter had the courage to step out and pursue Jesus. He could have said, "If it’s really you, Jesus; come and save us!!!!! Can’t you see we’re in danger here???" But Peter defied all logical reason and said, "if that’s really you, call me out! I wanna be where YOU are!!"

I didn’t have the words or the wisdom to know that this is what I was saying to God those 12 years ago. But I knew my life was in shambles. I knew I had become the Prodigal Daughter for the second time in my young life, and I wanted to come home. More than anything, I wanted to come home!

The same weekend I found that small "junior one-bedroom" (really a glorified large single/studio), I’d gone to my first service at Mosaic. I walked in the door and the Holy Spirit blasted me with His heat, like stepping out of a refrigerator-cold house and into the Phoenix noonday sun in the middle of a heat wave. It was overpowering. I was surrounded, enveloped and invaded by the Spirit and I loved it! I was home!! I’d been to Mosaic (then called Church on Brady) only once before, 10 years prior to that moment, but that November Sunday morning I felt like I’d just walked in the door of my childhood home. It was so sweet. I begged God to let me come home, let me stay. I’d wash toilets or whatever just to be there. All I wanted was to be where He was. "Call me out, Jesus! I wanna be where You are! And I KNOW You are here! I’ll do whatever You want. Go where ever You ask. Do whatever You say. No matter the cost. No turning back."

Thing is, when you decide to step out of your boat and go where Jesus is, you start seeing things that aren’t supposed to be see-able. Peter saw the wind. Hel-lo!! You can see the effects of the wind. But The Wind???? Whoa. What drugs you been takin’, son?!

But that’s the thing! When you step out into God’s World, you see the things that cannot be seen in the Human World. And it will Freak. You. Out. You start realizing you aren’t on solid ground anymore. Life just moved into the supernatural and that’s just not a place we humans are used to living.

I was still too young and dumb to realize all this in 1993. But God gave me words of wisdom to hang on to anyway: "Don’t look down. When the finances feel stretched to the limit, keep looking at Me. When the income doesn’t add up, keep looking at Me. When things get scary and stuff starts happening you can’t explain, don’t look down. Keep your eyes on Me. No matter what happens, Don’t. Look. Down. Keep your eyes on ME."

The other thing about stepping out of the boat is, well, as odd as it sounds, you have to keep stepping out. It’s not that you get back in (well, some do and it is a possibility), it’s that you gradually come to accept and get comfortable in your little "plot of water". And as soon as you do, Jesus calls you further. The last 12 years have been a continual calling out; we go further and further away from the boat. The last 5 years in particular have been bigger steps each time. And for the last three years God hasn’t allowed me to even get comfortable in my little plot before calling me farther. I keep waiting for the day I can settle in for a bit. But, alas, that doesn’t seem to be in His plan for me anymore.

Last night, Jesus and I talked again at length about my current personal situation and all the overwhelming crap I have on my plate, how I can’t seem to get settled anywhere before being moved on — and that’s without including the merge stuff. As we talked He quietly reminded me, "Don’t look down."

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Death By Stupidity

It’s gotta be the worst, most painful way to go. That awful moment you realize you’ve really stepped in it. You flew right into the trap. Just out enjoying the evening air, doing what you always do, going where you always go. Didn’t see the web in the dark, even with your great eyesight. Great wings and glowing tails can’t help you now. You’re caught and she’s coming for you. Soon she’ll have you completely wrapped up in a cocoon of sticky thread, and there you’ll hang, still alive and fully aware of all that’s happening, till she’s ready for some fresh meat.

Can’t say I didn’t warn ’em. I saw her over in the corner, up high so she’ll catch unsuspecting flying critters headed for the light of our window. I saw her shifting in her web, scurrying about getting it ready for company. Then I realized too late she’d gone quiet, so as not to tip anyone off. I especially warned all the fireflies. More than the usual stragglers visited me on the porch tonight. I told ’em she was there. Told them not to go to that part of the porch.

But the poor things seem attracted to the light wood around our window, and the unattainable brightness that lies beyond. It holds some mystery to them that they long to investigate. One of them got caught up with curiosity and soon just got caught up. Poor thing. He hung there scared and desperate to get out of the sticky mess he’d unsuspectingly flown into. I completely understood his plight.

How many times have I happily gone about my business, never in the world suspecting that the enemy lay in wait with a trap set just for inattentive people like me. Then suddenly HHWAP! I slam into an invisible web of sticky goo. The more I struggle, the more stuck I get. Only then do I see the enemy who laid such a nasty trap, coming toward me, ready to wrap me up still alive and hold me captive so he can feed on my still-living soul, sucking it dry of life.

I stood there and watched her wrap that poor firefly, butt still blinking furiously, in a nice, neat cocoon. Long after she was done with him and had gone back to her dinner, another unsuspecting critter who looked like he was pretty well dead now, his little light still blinked away, causing the whole corner of the porch to glow, bathing the web in eerie green flashes.  There he’ll sit, as night turns into day, until she’s ready for her next feast.

As I watched this crazy drama of "the circle of life" unfold, I struggled to comprehend how my God, who is so loving and gracious and good, could create creatures of such raw brutality and cruelty. When I implored Him to help me understand, He just remained silent — that kind of silent that a parent gets when their 4 year-old asks a "why" question that can’t possibly be answered in 4 year-old-speak.

Some things about creation I guess I’ll just never understand.

As I turned to go inside, I stopped in the darkness to once more admire the still-living fireflies dancing in the night air. Suddenly a breeze kicked up and I heard a whisper in the trees, quiet but intense, "Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings." (1 Peter 5:8-9)