Category Archives: Mission

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Baby Steps

I went to small group/home group "host" (read: leader) training this morning at my church, The People’s Church. My stomach has been tied in knots ever since.

The thought of stepping back into leadership, however "easy" and "short" it may be, scares me more than I thought it would. The commitment is different than it is at Mosaic. Life Group leaders back home are usually identified by other leaders and apprenticed for a while before the group multiplies and the new leaders take the second group. Its a process you go through and prepare months for. And it’s a commitment of usually at least a year — if not longer.

At TPC, hosts can sign up without having been a part of a group. They just feel led to open their homes to people. And the commitment starts as a 7 week trial deal. Try it, see how the group fits, how you fit. Then go from there. If the group fizzles, no pressure, no worries. It just wasn’t meant to be a long one. You can try again. Or join another group already established.

The training was much simpler and more direct as well. Of course, anyone who’s had any contact with Mosaic knows that anything is more direct and simple than Mosaic. Not that things are difficult at Mosaic. Its just that the leadership is so very esoteric; they’re deep thinkers. Even years ago, when Bro. Tom and Carol were casting the vision. So the training is much more about the concepts and philosophies, not the practical how-tos of creating a basic, doable life group meeting.

So why does this all scare me? I think its because I’ve been thrown off this horse twice, no, three, times now and the idea of getting back on brings back unpleasant memories.

Leading is hard. No matter how short it is. No matter how "easy" those above you make it. It takes work. It takes sacrifice. It takes a piece of me. It always takes a piece of me. And that leaves me raw.

So why am I doing this? I don’t know. I just have felt since I moved into my new place that I needed to do this. And maybe even wanted to do it. I don’t know why I want to… I just do… Is that weird?  Then last Sunday the announcement was made that they were looking for leaders for this particular series, lasting 7 weeks. And before I could really think about what I was doing, how I was committing myself once again, I’d filled out the information card and put it in the collection bag.

I could give you some of the reasons swimming in my head. I want to meet new people. I want to make some friends. Small group is the best way to do that. I have a nice little place where people can meet, so why not open it to a group? And its not so much "leading" as it is "facilitating". Or so they said this morning.

Honestly, all those reasons are good. And true. But this afternoon as I drove home from the training I finally discovered the true reason I’m taking this baby step out of my nicely padded comfort zone I’ve been making for myself since I left Mosaic Nashville’s "team": I’m doing it for God. But not in that holy, spiritual way. It’s like a little kid that pulls the paints out and makes a mess on the living room floor. I just want to make a pretty picture for my Dad. If He hangs it on the frig, all the better. But ultimately, it’s for Him.

When did I move from doing things because I was supposed to or expected to, or because I wanted others to know the love and intimacy I have with Jesus, to just wanting to paint a pretty picture for my Dad, just dance a crazy dance for my Beloved?

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Bag Ladies Forever

I missed the blogging memo about posting the things your grateful for on Thanksgiving.

Actually I spent most of my holiday weekend away from the computer (I know, shocking isn’t it, to find out that one can survive a weekend without the laptop appendage). By choice, no less. So its not surprising I was in the dark about this. I guess it should have been a given, considering the holiday and all, but, well, I’m not the brightest bulb on the tree, ya know?

As I dropped in on all my favorite blogs today, I found that many had posted on or around Thanksgiving, mainly about things they’re thankful for,  or about the holiday in general.

Sometimes I forget to think about the blessings in my life. I get so caught up in all the things I think are going wrong in my life, all the things I don’t have and all I’m missing. In those times I’d do well to "count my blessings" as they say. But I usually don’t think to. And I get very upset at people who tell me I "should" do so.

This was especially difficult to do in the weeks and months after mom and dad died. It seemed to me that I had lost everything ever important in life, that I had nothing left either in life or in me of value or worth. Counting my blessings then was very, very tough.

Somehow I always managed to count at least two: Jesus in my life, holding me together; and friends in my life, who just held me. Wendy was one of those friends. She was one who stuck by my side like she’d been glued there.

I remember crying to her and Kim McManus over my fears that I was hopelessly forever alone, that I would never marry or have any kind of family of my own. Wendy told me that would never be true; I would never be alone. She would always be there and jokingly said I could always be a bag lady with her. Be a bag lady with me, she cheerily invited.

At the time I didn’t find this idea either funny or the least bit comforting.

Seriously. I already feared that I would end up a homeless bag lady within a few years, if not sooner. So her declaration didn’t sooth me so much as it confirmed my worst fears.

Through the last two years, however, that declaration that I indeed would have a least one friend no matter what befell me in life has brought me much comfort. I find the future is easier to face when I remember that, if/when it all goes south, Wendy and I will be bag ladies together. I will not be alone.

Today I extended the offer to join Wendy and I in our bag lady-ness to my friend, Niza, who had a rough day over the weekend. It occurred to me after I posted my comment that she might misunderstand, as I did once, what a blessing this offer really is. No truer mark of a friend can be found than that of a friend who invites you to share her cardboard house with her and openly declares her friendship till the end of time, no matter how messy life gets.

I am indeed blessed.

Not because I have much — even though I do, by the world’s standards. Not because I am someone of importance — even though I am to God, and, thanks be to God!, my friends and family. I am blessed because I am loved. And love has been spoken over me even if I end up a bag lady, toothless and dirty, scrounging for food on the streets of downtown Nashville. Wendy will love me even then. Wendy will be my friend even then.

God shines His love on us through the people He brings into our lives. Wendy shines His light brighter than anyone I’ve known. I hope, perhaps, I can pass on some of that light and shine it into another’s. Perhaps we can all one day form the Bag Lady Brigade, walking the streets of America, toothless and dirty, stomachs growling and empty but hearts overflowing with joy because we are Jesus to each other in our darkest moments of life. And, knowing Wendy, she’ll organize us into the finest women’s worship band you’ve ever heard!

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To Serve or Be Served

Culture is a river that will pull you downstream unless you swim against the current.

I miss the culture of Mosaic. Larry, Wendy and Nina are right, it is the exception of community, not the rule. One of the things I’ve been missing most will sound odd to some. I miss the culture of servanthood.

It was easy to be a servant there. It was easy to give sacrificially. The culture of the community — the ethos, to use an old/new word — of servant-leadership was so strong and so pervasive that it pulled me downstream toward true spiritual generosity in every aspect of my life. I didn’t have to work hard at keeping that characteristic at the forefront of my heart and life. Mosaic as a core group, as my community and my friends, did it for me. It thrust me into the middle of a vortex of service where the only way out was to get out of the pool altogether.

The culture of the Church in Nashville is much different. I don’t mean just the church I go to; I mean the Church (big C) in general. I sense a growing emphasis among leadership in The People’s Church toward servanthood. But the current of culture still strongly flows down the river of Being Served.

For a sojourner who’s tired and battle weary, it’s a comfortable current. I like being carried like this; not feeling the urgent need to serve, knowing that "someone else" will take care of tear-down or set up or clean up or…. whatever. It’s amazing what a large church provides. There are people who get paid to set up and tear down tables for events. People paid to cater meals and reimbursements for those who buy with their own money, even childcare reimbursements are provided. Even sound set up is minimal compared to an average Sunday at Mosaic (though I must admit, Mosaic has better soundboards!).

However, all this cushiness cannot supplant the 10 years of cultural training. I still find myself picking up trash, straightening chairs, wanting to put things away and clean up.

I’m not serving like I used to. Worse, I don’t know how to serve in such a huge community. I feel lost in the crowd and carried downstream by the current of being served. How do I get out of this? How do I find the strength to fight the current and swim upstream to where help is needed? And how do I find the places to serve which fit my gifts?

Back home I knew the people to ask. I knew who to go to when I wanted to plug in somewhere. Heck, I didn’t need to ask. People came to me. Somehow, from early on I got a reputation for being the go-to girl; and so I was the one people "go-to". If I were to go home today, I’d be plugged in by midnight. Somewhere, somehow, someone would find out and call.

I know serving isn’t just about the inside of the church. I know its mainly about serving outside, in the world. I know its really about a way of life, not something you do on certain days. Somehow, though, I’ve forgotten how to live that way. Somehow I’ve gotten caught in a vortex of exhaustion and depression and isolation.  I no longer know where the line is between healthy rest and laziness.

I listened to Erwin’s sermon on Extraordinary Service and felt the pinch of conviction; am I doing enough? I don’t think I am. I read Wendy’s blog, Niza’s blog, Amy (a wonderful woman/old friend at Mosaic), Lillia and an new blog I found from a new Mosaic-ite, Cindy, and I’m reminded of the old current I once swam in. It was so easy then! Now I must fight the current AND give my life away generously.

But I’m so tired —- and I so long to just hang on to my life, what’s left of it, now that I’ve just begun to find my footing in life again. I feel torn apart by my own hands, one pulling against the current, one desperate to stay in the groove.

Erwin, as always, had much to say I needed to hear. One thing stuck out in this first listening of Extraordinary Service (side note: I remember him preaching similar sermons about 8 years ago — Wendy and I tackled memorizing the book of Philippians during the series, as Erwin preached the book through.). Erwin says, "You don’t wait till you’re strong enough to serve. You serve and it makes you stronger."

My new pastor, Rick, talked yesterday of the vision God’s given him for The People’s Church over the next year or so and I was reminded of Mosaic. Two urgent projects are a church plant in New York City and a satellite service in Spring Hill (about 20 minutes south of our campus). My mind immediately whirled with all the details experience taught me will be involved in these two endeavors. Who will the teams be? Needs for set up and tear down and clean up and ambiance and planning and tech stuff…. on and on. It wore me down just thinking about it. Yet it excited me at the same time. I wasn’t among a community just sitting around. They are moving and growing and determined to stay in the world, involved in the movement of God. It once again convinced me that I’m plugging into a community that is following Jesus.

Yet I left disconsolate, longing even more for the culture back home which would just sweep me along the current of servanthood as we chugged along together. Perhaps I’m looking in the wrong places at TPC. Perhaps I just haven’t found the servant current yet. I don’t know.

But I guess the true question on my heart at the moment is, How can I summon the courage and strength to serve and give my life generously on my own? Pray for me.

A generous man will prosper; he who refreshes others will himself be refreshed.  Proverbs 11:25

For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands. For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.  2 Tim 1:6-7

"No matter how physically sick, no matter how emotionally sick, no matter how weak you feel, you can serve someone today." — Erwin

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God-Flavors

"Let me tell you why you are here. You’re here to be salt-seasoning that
brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness,
how will people taste godliness?" — Jesus  (Matt 5:13, The Message)

Amy has mentioned several times that believes that all that this moment is the coming hope for New Orleans. I think she is the one bringing the hope. The hope in Christ. She and others like her are helping those who’ve lost their hope because of Katrina taste and experience the God-flavors and God-colors of this earth.

Isn’t that so cool! We — us crazy, broken, messed-up, freaked-out, crazy followers of Jesus can help others taste and see that God is good, even in the midst of such trauma and tragedy.

Only a God so rooted and grounded in His own strong sense of identity, and so convinced of our worth and value and talent and passion would do such an outlandish thing. If I were God I wouldn’t let any of my creations near such a task. I’d do all the bringing of hope and God-flavors and God-colors myself. I wouldn’t trust my creation to get it right. I wouldn’t have faith in my own creation to do me "justice".  I’m so glad I’m not God!!

He has such faith in us! Much more than we have in ourselves — and truckloads more than we have in Him.

Go Amy! Go Joe! Go Wendy and Conna and Kat and Leticia and Ron and Niza and Larry and Los and all you other barbarian-followers of Jesus. He has faith in you. The God of all creation has faith in you!  Go be hope-bringers and salt-seasoning to a whole world full of hurting, broken people. Jesus is with you!

You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God
is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as
a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Now
that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand–shine! Keep
open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others,
you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in
heaven.

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Making the Invisible Visible

Reading Alex’s blog this morning, I learned of two New Orleans’ students (at NOBTS) who are blogging their experiences with Hurricane Katrina and their work to help those who weren’t fortunate enough to make it out.

Amy, it appears, is from Nashville. She goes to Rolling Hills Church.

Joe is from Mobile and went back home to ride out the storm.

It’s amazing to read their posts. I see so much of Jesus in them! It’s so encouraging, and convicting!, to see these guys and their friends so passionate about Jesus that they are driven to give their lives so others can know Him too; willing to sacrifice their own comfort and the self-centered priorities natural for young 20-somethings in order to reach out to those around them in need, to a whole world in need, and do whatever it takes to meet those needs and be Jesus to them.

Those you in the Nashville area tomorrow. Rolling Hills is gathering supplies for Amy to take down to Texas and help the newly re-located refugees from Louisiana. Read Amy’s post for more information.

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Help Needed, Please Respond

Katrina survivors need help. They are in desperate need of all manner of supplies, and shelter, and yes, prayer. But prayer is where to begin, not end.

There are so many things we all can do to help. If we each give even a little food, water, shelter to those who fled to Nashville, money, blood, clothes, sundries… you name it, they need it.

Here’s just a few places I found where donations can be made to those in need:

NAMB Disaster Relief Fund

The SBC here is town are partnering with the Red Cross and Salvation Army to provide assistance and supplies to folks in Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama. If you’d like to donate clothes or other such items, they, or Salvation Army, would be good places to contact.

People’s Church Katrina Relief Fund

American Red Cross
***The great thing about the Red Cross is you don’t have to donate just money. If you’re low on funds yourself, you can give blood, platelets, and plasma instead — all of which is just as needed as money.

Please give. Give of your time, if you can. Give of your money, all that you can. Give of yourself in blood and plasma. Give from your heart in prayer, love, compassion and grace.

Life will be hard for all of us for a time because of Hurricane Katrina. But I think the least we can do is help those who’ve lost the most, and for whom life will never be the same.

And I gotta tell ya, when I find myself complaining about higher prices at the pump or at the grocery store, all I have to do is remember just a few of the images I saw this week on tv. And I know beyond doubt I ain’t got it bad at all.

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Deployed

I received an email from my brother tonight, letting me know my nephew-in-law (my niece, Billie’s, husband) has officially left for Iraq.

Ed left for Iraq this morning. It’s supposed to be a 7 month deployment but we all know how that’s been working out.
He will be based in the north, repairing equipment that is being used to secure the border. That means he will occasionally be required to go get equipment in the field that has broken down…. which is dangerous. The terrorists are, for good reason, fighting this build up along the border.

Please remember my nephew, Ed, my niece Billie and their two young sons during this time.

I know his heart, and he walks with Jesus. I know his desire is that all who see him will see Jesus more than they see an American soldier. Please pray that this will happen. Pray that his presence in Iraq will have eternal consequences, even as he serve the Iraqi people to make their home a better, safer and free land.

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Old South Ways


I saw The Skeleton Key tonight. Good movie overall. I like scary movies and this one has a few good "jumps" in it — where you butt may leave the seat. 🙂

What struck me most was the spiritism pervading the Old South. Living in the Land of Many Churches, I sometimes forget that this is also the Land of VooDoo and folk religions of many kinds.

The movie reminded me of my time in Ethiopia. How the witch doctors there work in conjunction with the Ethiopian Orthodox church, handing out "blessings", spells, amulets and all manner of things to ward of evil spirits, heal sicknesses and ensure long life and good crops.

As a western culture, and as Americans especially, we tend to forget what the rest of the world knows: the spirit world does exist and really does interact with the physical one. Spiritism and folk religions are alive and well in America — and impacting and influencing people all around us every day.

Ignoring it or not believing it has any power, as the movie clearly points out, does not negate its power. And don’t be fooled, it does have power. God allows Satan and his minions to "rule" here on earth. As spiritual/supernatural beings, they do have power. That’s why it is so vital that we as followers of Jesus step into the lives of others and envelope them with His love. We are like candles in a pitch black room illuminating the Truth so others may find their way to Him.

On my way home my mind began turning over what I’d seen and contemplating what God would have me do to help those blinded to the Truth of His love and His redeeming power. I was so deep in thought I hardly noticed when I arrived home. I guess I am still a missionary at heart, ’cause all I could think of was, "Jesus, how can we reach them? What will it take? What needs to be done?"

Sometimes I just need a little kick in the pants from God to remind me how wide the field and how ripe the harvest, and that it’s right in front of me.

I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest. Even now the reaper draws his wages, even now he harvests the crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together. — John 4:35-36

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What on Earth Are We Creating?

Alex asks an interesting question, which we are all still tossing around.

And Dawn asked me another good question of me this morning (see the previous posts comments for her questions and my response).

And now I can’t get the overarching question out of my mind. What are we creating? What are we called by Jesus to create, here on this earth, in order to advance His Kingdom?

What was it that the early church was creating when Luke said this about them, and what does it mean for us today?

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved. — Acts 2:42-47