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9/2/13
5/6/13
Our Members.
Reader,
I think I've been guilty of being the skeptic.
These past two years I've watched my church almost triple in size. We went from having one service in a small church building, to having two in a room that can fit 400 people. Honestly, that's a great blessing! Sometimes, it's a blessing I'm not really sure how to deal with. More people means more sin, but it also means more joy, more salvation, but it could mean more division. More people to me used to mean more work.
We're called the body. In the book to the Corinthian church, Paul preached about how we are each different members of the body with different gifts, but all equal parts with Christ as the head. He talks about not diminishing each other or yourself in your gifting, thinking that one part of the body is greater than the other.
I bring this up because I think I have a tendency to forget, and I think you do as well, just what this means for all of us in the church.
When you become a member at a particular church, you're pledging responsibility as a member of the Body of Christ. Whether your gift leads you to be like the eyes or the hands or the mouth, you have a part in the church. But just like Paul warns the Corinthians, we forget who we are in the body, we take on too much responsibility, judge the body, and we can stop functioning altogether.
I've played the skeptic. I've sat back from the body and looked it over, with all it's new additions, and wondered if our body could handle the massive surgery it's undergoing. Will these new parts fit? Will the leaders change because of this? What if we get infected, will we just flat out die?
It wasn't until Christ changed my heart that I realized it is not my job to be skeptic of the great Surgeon. He showed me my life, that I wasn't serving my fellow members. That I was expecting much of everyone else around me and taking from a buffet of service, but I played no part in preparing the great feast.
So I began to pray over where my place was in service - what part of the body am I anyway? I asked my pastor for advice and he said if I wasn't satisfied with the general call to serve my brothers then I would never find joy in a specific calling either. So I texted my lot family leader and begged to have a part in serving our lot family. That's when it hit me.
Our leaders don't get requests like that often. We are expecting so much of them, but we have no part in building them up, being behind the scenes, or stepping up to serve alongside them. We think the "glorious" jobs are the ones that should be filled (worship leader, youth group leader, you name it). Yet, all those roles are filled, so there's nothing we can do in the church, because we don't have a title.
I've found something different. I love encouraging my pastor and my worship leader and our discipleship coach and bringing people into my home. Discipling and admonishing the believers is my calling. I have no clue what title that give me in the Body, but that's what I do. No one has to tell me to do it, but instead I see that need and it's my job to pursue it.
However, I do not think we are called to be the only one doing what we do. It's not good for man to do his duties alone. I can't disciple the whole church, I need people to admonish me at times. If I overburden myself I'm not doing anyone any favors. Jon Foreman explains by saying that we aren't called to take the whole mountain by storm, but instead we strive to conquer our own piece of that mountain.
So what about the rest of the church? That was my question this morning. If I'm not to take the whole mountain by storm, the rest of them should be serving too. Yet we all can get so complacent. The wonderful thing is this: the more we serve, the more we encourage, the more we do this the more they will want to follow our lead. We can't force them to be the part of the body their called to be, but we can encourage them and pray God brings life to these bones. Don't get me wrong, we should be calling out the members who aren't functioning. We should not be the skeptic though.
So this is my call of encouragement to you. You may not have a title in the church, but what areas are you most keen to noticing the church struggle in? That may very well be the area you have a heart for. What do you love to do? Find creative way to implicate that in your small groups, or in times where normal church functions aren't scheduled. Open up your home, your free time, your job, and all of you. The worst things we can do is think we aren't gifted, that our part isn't important, or worst, to think it's someone else's responsibility.
Don't down play other's gifts, but encourage them in it. Where would we be with out even the smallest parts of our members.
This will build unity. This will glorify the Lord. This makes us the light to a lost and dying world, if we serve with joy and fervency.
Chelsy.
I think I've been guilty of being the skeptic.
These past two years I've watched my church almost triple in size. We went from having one service in a small church building, to having two in a room that can fit 400 people. Honestly, that's a great blessing! Sometimes, it's a blessing I'm not really sure how to deal with. More people means more sin, but it also means more joy, more salvation, but it could mean more division. More people to me used to mean more work.
We're called the body. In the book to the Corinthian church, Paul preached about how we are each different members of the body with different gifts, but all equal parts with Christ as the head. He talks about not diminishing each other or yourself in your gifting, thinking that one part of the body is greater than the other.
I bring this up because I think I have a tendency to forget, and I think you do as well, just what this means for all of us in the church.
When you become a member at a particular church, you're pledging responsibility as a member of the Body of Christ. Whether your gift leads you to be like the eyes or the hands or the mouth, you have a part in the church. But just like Paul warns the Corinthians, we forget who we are in the body, we take on too much responsibility, judge the body, and we can stop functioning altogether.
I've played the skeptic. I've sat back from the body and looked it over, with all it's new additions, and wondered if our body could handle the massive surgery it's undergoing. Will these new parts fit? Will the leaders change because of this? What if we get infected, will we just flat out die?
It wasn't until Christ changed my heart that I realized it is not my job to be skeptic of the great Surgeon. He showed me my life, that I wasn't serving my fellow members. That I was expecting much of everyone else around me and taking from a buffet of service, but I played no part in preparing the great feast.
So I began to pray over where my place was in service - what part of the body am I anyway? I asked my pastor for advice and he said if I wasn't satisfied with the general call to serve my brothers then I would never find joy in a specific calling either. So I texted my lot family leader and begged to have a part in serving our lot family. That's when it hit me.
Our leaders don't get requests like that often. We are expecting so much of them, but we have no part in building them up, being behind the scenes, or stepping up to serve alongside them. We think the "glorious" jobs are the ones that should be filled (worship leader, youth group leader, you name it). Yet, all those roles are filled, so there's nothing we can do in the church, because we don't have a title.
I've found something different. I love encouraging my pastor and my worship leader and our discipleship coach and bringing people into my home. Discipling and admonishing the believers is my calling. I have no clue what title that give me in the Body, but that's what I do. No one has to tell me to do it, but instead I see that need and it's my job to pursue it.
However, I do not think we are called to be the only one doing what we do. It's not good for man to do his duties alone. I can't disciple the whole church, I need people to admonish me at times. If I overburden myself I'm not doing anyone any favors. Jon Foreman explains by saying that we aren't called to take the whole mountain by storm, but instead we strive to conquer our own piece of that mountain.
So what about the rest of the church? That was my question this morning. If I'm not to take the whole mountain by storm, the rest of them should be serving too. Yet we all can get so complacent. The wonderful thing is this: the more we serve, the more we encourage, the more we do this the more they will want to follow our lead. We can't force them to be the part of the body their called to be, but we can encourage them and pray God brings life to these bones. Don't get me wrong, we should be calling out the members who aren't functioning. We should not be the skeptic though.
So this is my call of encouragement to you. You may not have a title in the church, but what areas are you most keen to noticing the church struggle in? That may very well be the area you have a heart for. What do you love to do? Find creative way to implicate that in your small groups, or in times where normal church functions aren't scheduled. Open up your home, your free time, your job, and all of you. The worst things we can do is think we aren't gifted, that our part isn't important, or worst, to think it's someone else's responsibility.
Don't down play other's gifts, but encourage them in it. Where would we be with out even the smallest parts of our members.
This will build unity. This will glorify the Lord. This makes us the light to a lost and dying world, if we serve with joy and fervency.
Chelsy.
4/10/13
And There We Were...
In Quito, late at night, on a bus headed for Lasso. I remembered last year, how I sat on that same bus and felt tired and annoyed that no one else wanted to sleep. This year however, I was wide awake and ready to serve. I sat with Kinsey and we had such good conversation. She told me about her spiritual gifts, and I shared the same. We talked about engagement and marriage and mission and love. What an amazing conversation to prepare my heart for all that lied ahead.
Lasso was uneventful in the sense that we didn't stay long. It was more or less a pit stop on the way to Santa Ana. We were on the bus again by midday. While we were there we played volleyball, got to know one another and catch up with some of the team. Marc made us aware of what would be our focus in scripture that week, the character of God. He challenged us to each have a verse, memorize it, and this verse should explain a characteristic of God that we were wrestling with. He encouraged us to share a piece of God's character we had been struggling with.
Mine was: He is a Father to the fatherless.
Driving to Santa Ana, I fell asleep. When we arrived there were a few children and adults scattered around the center of the town and we began unloading and finding housing for us all. A little girl ran up to us, Niyali. She played with us and, just like all the other kids in the village, we were immediate friends. She was already really special in my heart.
The village of Santa Ana is in the middle of the jungle, there's running water and working bathrooms, and its right on the river front of a river connecting to the Amazon. It's not a very large town and it's made up of a very close community, which should be referred to more as a tribe. One of the leaders explained the history of the village to me this way: The government had a similar arrangement with the indigenous tribes there as they did with Native Americans here. They forced them to settle, whereas before they were mainly nomadic, to reduce the fighting between tribes, however these groups actually picked the land they were to settle on and were given rights and regulations on how to use the land. The tribe basically decided on what could/couldn't be built on their land, who could live there, etc. They have a president and the community is mostly made up of families who are all very close to one another.
We were here to build a church.
The community is not made up of a large Christian group, but it seemed a lot of people had a knowledge for Christ and a belief and thankfulness toward Him. Just like most of Ecuador, they most likely were taught basic principles about Him, but in some community belief is misconstrued with other tribal religions and Roman Catholic traditions, warping the foundation of the church. It was important that these people see, also, that the church is not just a building. That's part of the reason we were there to help.
Latin American culture can depend on physical structures as an object of worship. It's easy to see, if you go to a large city and giant church buildings are not hard to come by. These buildings will most often have an entry fee, they have a place to buy alms for repentance, confession areas, statues of saints and Mary and Christ to leave gifts and alms of forgiveness and thanks. The people begin to see grace as an obscure thing. They begin to see the church as a building, not a community. They have deep doctrinal flaws and their leaders are often unfaithful and commit adultery or fall into alcoholism for example but do not step down from leadership. It causes the gospel to be warped.
So here we were, 30 some people about to build the foundation of a church, not just physically, but in their hearts too. What a better way for these people to see that the building we set out to help with was not the church, they were. We were. Bart, the leader of the project, had been seeing to it these people were already meeting corporately before a building was constructed to further relay the message. Steve, our missionary we support, had been praying with Bart over who would pastor this church plant and the Lord called to mind a member of the church in La Fuente, Dadeo. Dadeo had successfully integrated himself as a respectable member of the community before we had even arrived,
In truth they didn't necessarily need us, but God used this group to show the new church in Santa Ana so much.
I want to take time to also give a back story on Bart and this partnership we've begun to form. I will speak more on the church as I go on, as it wasn't show to me the first day either.
I got the chance to talk with Bart in the village, but he also shared with the whole group a bit of their story before we left Lasso as well. Bart and Tracy found the village a few years ago. They were part of a clean water project where a group came to Santa Ana to install water systems around the area. They successfully created a better environment to prevent the spreading of disease. But somewhere in their time between going to and from Ecuador and the United States they began to develop a calling for this city. They were praying over what that meant when they discovered an Acts 29 church in Ecuador. La Fuente. They met with Steve and Sandi Youngren to discuss what they felt called to in this small village.
The vision was for a church to be planted here. Bart and Tracy had realized in their travels that there were in fact some Christians who felt isolated and untaught in their community and in need of a body. Steve and Sandi do tremendous work at building a body in Ecuador. They have successfully planted and tended to a church in the large city of Quito, they have built a training center in Lasso, reached out to needing tribes like Tena and now they were feeling the call to help Bart with his vision.
That's where Dadeo came into the picture. Neither Steve, nor Bart felt the call to pastor this church, so they were in desperate need of someone who could. Dadeo had been ready and waiting for quite some time. He had come to the church a few years back, was a disciple of Steve and had been waiting to pastor a church. He visited the village, prayed over the decision and it was all set in motion.
Marc, my pastor, had shared with our group a few times how amazing it was that all 30 some people could stand in a room together in Ecuador. He said, "This proves how sovereign our God is, because we can't imagine all that had to happen for all of us to be here right now." Looking at my own story and call to Ecuador, know some of the groups story, and then hearing the strange circumstances that connected this missing pieces together, I have to agree.
It's almost like God was writing an intricate story. It makes me wonder what the bigger picture looks like. After all, this is such a minuet part of the grander scheme of things.
More to come,
Chelsy.
Lasso was uneventful in the sense that we didn't stay long. It was more or less a pit stop on the way to Santa Ana. We were on the bus again by midday. While we were there we played volleyball, got to know one another and catch up with some of the team. Marc made us aware of what would be our focus in scripture that week, the character of God. He challenged us to each have a verse, memorize it, and this verse should explain a characteristic of God that we were wrestling with. He encouraged us to share a piece of God's character we had been struggling with.
Mine was: He is a Father to the fatherless.
Driving to Santa Ana, I fell asleep. When we arrived there were a few children and adults scattered around the center of the town and we began unloading and finding housing for us all. A little girl ran up to us, Niyali. She played with us and, just like all the other kids in the village, we were immediate friends. She was already really special in my heart.
The village of Santa Ana is in the middle of the jungle, there's running water and working bathrooms, and its right on the river front of a river connecting to the Amazon. It's not a very large town and it's made up of a very close community, which should be referred to more as a tribe. One of the leaders explained the history of the village to me this way: The government had a similar arrangement with the indigenous tribes there as they did with Native Americans here. They forced them to settle, whereas before they were mainly nomadic, to reduce the fighting between tribes, however these groups actually picked the land they were to settle on and were given rights and regulations on how to use the land. The tribe basically decided on what could/couldn't be built on their land, who could live there, etc. They have a president and the community is mostly made up of families who are all very close to one another.
We were here to build a church.
The community is not made up of a large Christian group, but it seemed a lot of people had a knowledge for Christ and a belief and thankfulness toward Him. Just like most of Ecuador, they most likely were taught basic principles about Him, but in some community belief is misconstrued with other tribal religions and Roman Catholic traditions, warping the foundation of the church. It was important that these people see, also, that the church is not just a building. That's part of the reason we were there to help.
Latin American culture can depend on physical structures as an object of worship. It's easy to see, if you go to a large city and giant church buildings are not hard to come by. These buildings will most often have an entry fee, they have a place to buy alms for repentance, confession areas, statues of saints and Mary and Christ to leave gifts and alms of forgiveness and thanks. The people begin to see grace as an obscure thing. They begin to see the church as a building, not a community. They have deep doctrinal flaws and their leaders are often unfaithful and commit adultery or fall into alcoholism for example but do not step down from leadership. It causes the gospel to be warped.
So here we were, 30 some people about to build the foundation of a church, not just physically, but in their hearts too. What a better way for these people to see that the building we set out to help with was not the church, they were. We were. Bart, the leader of the project, had been seeing to it these people were already meeting corporately before a building was constructed to further relay the message. Steve, our missionary we support, had been praying with Bart over who would pastor this church plant and the Lord called to mind a member of the church in La Fuente, Dadeo. Dadeo had successfully integrated himself as a respectable member of the community before we had even arrived,
In truth they didn't necessarily need us, but God used this group to show the new church in Santa Ana so much.
I want to take time to also give a back story on Bart and this partnership we've begun to form. I will speak more on the church as I go on, as it wasn't show to me the first day either.
I got the chance to talk with Bart in the village, but he also shared with the whole group a bit of their story before we left Lasso as well. Bart and Tracy found the village a few years ago. They were part of a clean water project where a group came to Santa Ana to install water systems around the area. They successfully created a better environment to prevent the spreading of disease. But somewhere in their time between going to and from Ecuador and the United States they began to develop a calling for this city. They were praying over what that meant when they discovered an Acts 29 church in Ecuador. La Fuente. They met with Steve and Sandi Youngren to discuss what they felt called to in this small village.
The vision was for a church to be planted here. Bart and Tracy had realized in their travels that there were in fact some Christians who felt isolated and untaught in their community and in need of a body. Steve and Sandi do tremendous work at building a body in Ecuador. They have successfully planted and tended to a church in the large city of Quito, they have built a training center in Lasso, reached out to needing tribes like Tena and now they were feeling the call to help Bart with his vision.
That's where Dadeo came into the picture. Neither Steve, nor Bart felt the call to pastor this church, so they were in desperate need of someone who could. Dadeo had been ready and waiting for quite some time. He had come to the church a few years back, was a disciple of Steve and had been waiting to pastor a church. He visited the village, prayed over the decision and it was all set in motion.
Marc, my pastor, had shared with our group a few times how amazing it was that all 30 some people could stand in a room together in Ecuador. He said, "This proves how sovereign our God is, because we can't imagine all that had to happen for all of us to be here right now." Looking at my own story and call to Ecuador, know some of the groups story, and then hearing the strange circumstances that connected this missing pieces together, I have to agree.
It's almost like God was writing an intricate story. It makes me wonder what the bigger picture looks like. After all, this is such a minuet part of the grander scheme of things.
More to come,
Chelsy.
4/8/13
Planes, Buses, and Sidewalks.
I've been back in the states for about 2 hours now. For those of you who weren't aware I've spent the last 8 days out of the country, in Ecuador. I didn't journal. I haven't yet shared the story with anyone. I figured I would share the rawest of it before I had the chance to do otherwise. Know that each post will recap a few days at most.
I woke up at 5 am April 1st. Double checked my list of things needed, enjoyed the last nice shower I would have for a week, and drove to the church building to meet the other 29 who would join me. Some of us were tired, but all of us excited.
We prayed together and took off to the airport. At this point I could already get a general idea of how this group would interact on the trip. A few of the girls had a lot of encouraging energy, some were quiet and later proved to have willing hands to serve. To be incredibly vulnerable, I've always had a difficult time in groups of people, mostly when I'm faced with the last group of people that were on the trip. There are some of us who are just social adept.
Girls with pretty everything and funny stories that seem to be always happy and you tend to really compare yourself to them. You may even convince yourself they think they're better than you (or everyone). I had spent a lot of time with one of these girls on the trip last year and found just how wrong I was about her. She ended up being the sweetest most caring girl and we actually built a solid friendship. It's not that I think less of them, but there's so much jealousy that crowds my heart sometimes around them that I, and many of us, begin to be bitter. We begin to compare ourselves and think maybe the way we are isn't good enough, after all everyone loves them so much.
This was the first trial I was faced with on the trip.
When in the St. Louis airport, while we were all checking our luggage, Kim realized her passport was expired. We lost one member of our team of 29 people, and a woman with such great heart! I can't imagine what the trip would have looked like with her, but it was amazing to see God's sovereignty in the situation. I knew it was so hard for her not to come with us and see her brother and sister and "waste" all she had been preparing for. It was amazing to see later that she may be able to come back in the summer on her own, which truly may be even more of a blessing to her in the long run.
1 hour and 30 minutes after taking off in St. Louis, we landed in Atlanta, Georgia with a 4 hour layover in store. This ended up being a good time to brush up on Spanish, get to know one another, and be goofballs together. We all had a meal together and afterwards played spoons and swapped some stories.
Still the other trial looked me straight in the eye right before takeoff. Confidence has always been an issue for me, like every other girl in the world. In the course of 5 minutes, all of my confidence was crushed by the people I loved most. My humor and my Spanish skills were both challenged and I began to feel, "Why am I even on this trip?". I could feel the tug of the enemy that is so familiar to my heart. I began to feel self pity, anger, and loneliness exceedingly. I had almost decided not to bring up what I was feeling to the friends who had hurt me, after all they didn't mean to hurt my feelings, and maybe I was just being overdramatic. I just need to get over it.
Thus surfaced my second trial.
Out of grace, the Lord shook me and showed me that the longer I held in how I felt, the more I would ruin the relationships around me. It's never better to just "get over it". I confronted my friend and she quickly apologized and everything was just fine. But the lesson I learned was so deep. I'd later be tested on the same principle multiple times throughout the trip. In vulnerability, I'm still learning to actively confront the people I love and not hide my emotion from them
Six hours came and went on the plan to Quito. We had the joy of watching a movie on the international flight. I began to see that the relationship I was building with Erin was becoming promising. I could see that she was beginning to confide in me and lean on me in small ways which was such a blessing. Erin is Maria's sister; for those of you who don't know, Maria and Matt Hawn have traveled from our church to stay with the missionaries in Quito, Steve and Sandi. It was crazy to see what would come of this relationship later on the trip.
So was the first day. We arrived in Quito around... late, took a bus to Lasso and stayed the night. We woke up early ready to head to the jungle, where we would be helping build a church plant in Santa Ana.
This I will share with you in the next post, as there is so much to tell.
Thanks so much to all of you who prayed and gave support, whether financially or emotionally. You all have no clue how much this means to me, without you I would not have had an amazing experience that I will remember for ever, that changed my heart, and that I now get to share with so many.
Thank you,
Chelsy.
I woke up at 5 am April 1st. Double checked my list of things needed, enjoyed the last nice shower I would have for a week, and drove to the church building to meet the other 29 who would join me. Some of us were tired, but all of us excited.
We prayed together and took off to the airport. At this point I could already get a general idea of how this group would interact on the trip. A few of the girls had a lot of encouraging energy, some were quiet and later proved to have willing hands to serve. To be incredibly vulnerable, I've always had a difficult time in groups of people, mostly when I'm faced with the last group of people that were on the trip. There are some of us who are just social adept.
Girls with pretty everything and funny stories that seem to be always happy and you tend to really compare yourself to them. You may even convince yourself they think they're better than you (or everyone). I had spent a lot of time with one of these girls on the trip last year and found just how wrong I was about her. She ended up being the sweetest most caring girl and we actually built a solid friendship. It's not that I think less of them, but there's so much jealousy that crowds my heart sometimes around them that I, and many of us, begin to be bitter. We begin to compare ourselves and think maybe the way we are isn't good enough, after all everyone loves them so much.
This was the first trial I was faced with on the trip.
When in the St. Louis airport, while we were all checking our luggage, Kim realized her passport was expired. We lost one member of our team of 29 people, and a woman with such great heart! I can't imagine what the trip would have looked like with her, but it was amazing to see God's sovereignty in the situation. I knew it was so hard for her not to come with us and see her brother and sister and "waste" all she had been preparing for. It was amazing to see later that she may be able to come back in the summer on her own, which truly may be even more of a blessing to her in the long run.
1 hour and 30 minutes after taking off in St. Louis, we landed in Atlanta, Georgia with a 4 hour layover in store. This ended up being a good time to brush up on Spanish, get to know one another, and be goofballs together. We all had a meal together and afterwards played spoons and swapped some stories.
Still the other trial looked me straight in the eye right before takeoff. Confidence has always been an issue for me, like every other girl in the world. In the course of 5 minutes, all of my confidence was crushed by the people I loved most. My humor and my Spanish skills were both challenged and I began to feel, "Why am I even on this trip?". I could feel the tug of the enemy that is so familiar to my heart. I began to feel self pity, anger, and loneliness exceedingly. I had almost decided not to bring up what I was feeling to the friends who had hurt me, after all they didn't mean to hurt my feelings, and maybe I was just being overdramatic. I just need to get over it.
Thus surfaced my second trial.
Out of grace, the Lord shook me and showed me that the longer I held in how I felt, the more I would ruin the relationships around me. It's never better to just "get over it". I confronted my friend and she quickly apologized and everything was just fine. But the lesson I learned was so deep. I'd later be tested on the same principle multiple times throughout the trip. In vulnerability, I'm still learning to actively confront the people I love and not hide my emotion from them
Six hours came and went on the plan to Quito. We had the joy of watching a movie on the international flight. I began to see that the relationship I was building with Erin was becoming promising. I could see that she was beginning to confide in me and lean on me in small ways which was such a blessing. Erin is Maria's sister; for those of you who don't know, Maria and Matt Hawn have traveled from our church to stay with the missionaries in Quito, Steve and Sandi. It was crazy to see what would come of this relationship later on the trip.
So was the first day. We arrived in Quito around... late, took a bus to Lasso and stayed the night. We woke up early ready to head to the jungle, where we would be helping build a church plant in Santa Ana.
This I will share with you in the next post, as there is so much to tell.
Thanks so much to all of you who prayed and gave support, whether financially or emotionally. You all have no clue how much this means to me, without you I would not have had an amazing experience that I will remember for ever, that changed my heart, and that I now get to share with so many.
Thank you,
Chelsy.
2/20/13
Slaves in Hiding.
There's a door down the street with a small opening at the top. The person behind the door can slip it open and closed as they please. They control who comes in and out and they prefer neither occurs.
Every now and then you'd see a curious soul knock on the metal door and the latch would sometimes open and sometimes stay shut. They would always ask, "How are you this lovely day?" The voice would always answer politely, "Oh, just fine." The lad outside would wander away smiling and content with the encounter and even overjoyed if the face peered from the latch.
The face and the voice behind the door was convincing enough. No matter how gloomy and cold the door looked, you heard the cheery voice and saw the glowing smile on that face and you were convinced the voice behind that door was one of a gladdened soul.
But one man, a very particular scientist sat across the street on the park bench each lunch hour and watched the curious and polite people in their charade. He was not so convinced. One sunny day he strolled across the street and gave a good knock on the cold, hard metal door. The latch did not open and after some scuffling noises you heard the polite voice call out "Yes, I'm doing fine this wonderful morning, thank you for asking." The scientist responded, "Sir, may I come inside?"
There was the most curious quiet on the opposite side of the thick metal. The voice became shriller and more chilled, "No thank you kind sir, we're all fine in here, have a merry day." Then the voice scuffled away.
The scientist gave a good two bangs on the metal and called out quite loudly, "Well sir I'm not thoroughly convinced. I'd very much like to join you in tea and hear about you. You've persuaded to the rest of them, but your manner is a bit mysterious to me." The latch opened, behind it was not the usual glowing man, but a ragged skinny face. The scientist realized that from his perch on the opposite end of the street the face had seemed fuller and happier. Only a fool could be convinced otherwise from this near to the latch.
The voice whispered, "Why would you want to know anything other than how I am this day?" The scientist gave a warm smile and leaned closer, "Just humor me." The latch slid close slowly. After a few long moments the latches began to open on the other side. You could hear several different sorts of bolts unhinging as if the man had been preparing for nuclear war.
The door barely opened and a small withered hand summoned him inside. The man slowly came inside, wary that not many, if any had entered these lonely chambers. The man slammed the door shut behind him and hid in the corner covering his face and shrinking under a shabby blanket he was substituting for a coat. The scientist analyzed the room before him.
Dark quarters, hardly any light shed on the piles of dirt and junk that lay around his feet. A small mattress lie in the opposite corner of the 6x10 chamber. The man still in the corner was audibly weeping. As the scientist turned the whimpering soul cowered further into the wall. How could this man have hidden himself from so many passerby's?
________________________________________________________________________________
If metaphors don't come easily to you I'll break the parable down by stating this: I've been the man behind the door waiting for a scientist to invite himself in. It's too easy to hid behind thick walls in our culture where the word "Fine" can drive most people away.
Today I've realized a little more that hiding behind the door is not freedom. Galatians 5:1 "For freedom Christ has set us free.." Today I'm praying He'll show me how to open the door to the people who really want in. Allowing them to see things aren't always as they seem and allowing them to help. I'm having to learn that I'm not meant to be all put together and perfect. I will have flaws and I will make mistakes.
The longer I close the door to the people around me the longer I live in my own mess, unable to clean it up and I will grow withered and weak.
If the door is closed to His people, the door is closed to Him as well.
Chelsy.
Every now and then you'd see a curious soul knock on the metal door and the latch would sometimes open and sometimes stay shut. They would always ask, "How are you this lovely day?" The voice would always answer politely, "Oh, just fine." The lad outside would wander away smiling and content with the encounter and even overjoyed if the face peered from the latch.
The face and the voice behind the door was convincing enough. No matter how gloomy and cold the door looked, you heard the cheery voice and saw the glowing smile on that face and you were convinced the voice behind that door was one of a gladdened soul.
But one man, a very particular scientist sat across the street on the park bench each lunch hour and watched the curious and polite people in their charade. He was not so convinced. One sunny day he strolled across the street and gave a good knock on the cold, hard metal door. The latch did not open and after some scuffling noises you heard the polite voice call out "Yes, I'm doing fine this wonderful morning, thank you for asking." The scientist responded, "Sir, may I come inside?"
There was the most curious quiet on the opposite side of the thick metal. The voice became shriller and more chilled, "No thank you kind sir, we're all fine in here, have a merry day." Then the voice scuffled away.
The scientist gave a good two bangs on the metal and called out quite loudly, "Well sir I'm not thoroughly convinced. I'd very much like to join you in tea and hear about you. You've persuaded to the rest of them, but your manner is a bit mysterious to me." The latch opened, behind it was not the usual glowing man, but a ragged skinny face. The scientist realized that from his perch on the opposite end of the street the face had seemed fuller and happier. Only a fool could be convinced otherwise from this near to the latch.
The voice whispered, "Why would you want to know anything other than how I am this day?" The scientist gave a warm smile and leaned closer, "Just humor me." The latch slid close slowly. After a few long moments the latches began to open on the other side. You could hear several different sorts of bolts unhinging as if the man had been preparing for nuclear war.
The door barely opened and a small withered hand summoned him inside. The man slowly came inside, wary that not many, if any had entered these lonely chambers. The man slammed the door shut behind him and hid in the corner covering his face and shrinking under a shabby blanket he was substituting for a coat. The scientist analyzed the room before him.
Dark quarters, hardly any light shed on the piles of dirt and junk that lay around his feet. A small mattress lie in the opposite corner of the 6x10 chamber. The man still in the corner was audibly weeping. As the scientist turned the whimpering soul cowered further into the wall. How could this man have hidden himself from so many passerby's?
________________________________________________________________________________
If metaphors don't come easily to you I'll break the parable down by stating this: I've been the man behind the door waiting for a scientist to invite himself in. It's too easy to hid behind thick walls in our culture where the word "Fine" can drive most people away.
Today I've realized a little more that hiding behind the door is not freedom. Galatians 5:1 "For freedom Christ has set us free.." Today I'm praying He'll show me how to open the door to the people who really want in. Allowing them to see things aren't always as they seem and allowing them to help. I'm having to learn that I'm not meant to be all put together and perfect. I will have flaws and I will make mistakes.
The longer I close the door to the people around me the longer I live in my own mess, unable to clean it up and I will grow withered and weak.
If the door is closed to His people, the door is closed to Him as well.
Chelsy.
12/5/12
The Weak.
Jesus said He would use the weak to lead the strong.
There's a problem I have when I struggle with my sin, I don't want anyone else to help me carry my burdens. I don't want to be "that person" who throws a pity party and wants all the attention on them. I'd rather no one know about it and seem like I'm doing fine. I've been trained to be strong and independent.
Unfortunatly training the strong starts in the local church. You walk into the service and people want to shake you hand or hug you and they all smile and ask, "How are you?" They're all so happy and so nice and so so busy! I could never condemn them for it, for aren't we called to be a grateful and joyful people? Still, we are also called to suffer with those who are suffering, to weep with those who weep, and mourn with the mouners. But the mourners are silent because everyone else is smiling.
I need to be more weak, because then Jesus is strong and He gets the glory.
There's a problem I have when I struggle with my sin, I don't want anyone else to help me carry my burdens. I don't want to be "that person" who throws a pity party and wants all the attention on them. I'd rather no one know about it and seem like I'm doing fine. I've been trained to be strong and independent.
Unfortunatly training the strong starts in the local church. You walk into the service and people want to shake you hand or hug you and they all smile and ask, "How are you?" They're all so happy and so nice and so so busy! I could never condemn them for it, for aren't we called to be a grateful and joyful people? Still, we are also called to suffer with those who are suffering, to weep with those who weep, and mourn with the mouners. But the mourners are silent because everyone else is smiling.
There's no room for their sorrow in a cheerful room. There's no room for real hurting people in a room full of fake smiles.
I don't excuse myself from my own responisbility. If you want to see a change happen, you have to be the one to start it. And being silent is not the only way I see myself pretending to be strong, instead of embracing weakness. It's just as hard in times of joy to embrace weakness.
When you're on the other side of the spectrum, you're the one feeling joy and smiling and hugging and hanshaking everyone in sight. You feel like you're going a million miles an hour and nothing can stop the overflow of the Spirit. Somewhere in the midst of your high mountain top experience you find yourself crashing into the reality that you aren't praising God anymore, you're all about praising yourself.
It's no longer the oy of the Lord that drives you at this point. You become blind to the fact that you were really only promoting yourself. Every friend who came to you in need you gave cliche answers of how they could fix it themselves. You begin to forget how to weep with them and plead with them.
I pray you don't read this and feel I'm trying to call out the church and point the finger. I've been both individuals in the past week alone and I'm just as guilty as the next Christian. What I mean to say is this:
Why can't we just be the weak?
The strong don't have compassion, the strong have all the answers, they point hte finger and never listen (and I mean genuinly listen) to the weak. Because they are better.
But the strong are the blind, because they aren't really strong. They're the weak and they aren't really willing to see it.
The weak have issues. They can't get it right and they never will, but really they don't need to. The weak actually need Jesus and are desperate every day (they don't just tell other people that). The weak weep. When joy comes, they're grateful. When friends suffer they suffer with them. They pray.
I need to be more weak, because then Jesus is strong and He gets the glory.
Chelsy.
11/28/12
Take What Is Handed to You.
[29] Once when Jacob was cooking stew, Esau came in from the field, and he was exhausted. [30] And Esau said to Jacob, “Let me eat some of that red stew, for I am exhausted!” (Therefore his name was called Edom.) [31] Jacob said, “Sell me your birthright now.” [32] Esau said, “I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?” [33] Jacob said, “Swear to me now.” So he swore to him and sold his birthright to Jacob. [34] Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew, and he ate and drank and rose and went his way. Thus Esau despised his birthright.
(Genesis 25:29-34 ESV)
(Genesis 25:29-34 ESV)
I wasn't planning on starting my blogs this way, it's just that what I was reading and what was on my heart today happened to be in these verses. I believe that the ones claiming to know God's grace, stomp on that gift and actually deny God the chance to bless us. I believe you will understand what i mean when I explain the verses.
Right before this section, it's explained that Jacob and Esau were destined to be at odds, they even wrestled in the womb. It's known that Jacob is pretty crafty as his name means "he cheats" and it seems that this verbal taunting was probably not a rare occurrence.The situation is kind of silly. Esau is apparently so exhausted that he sells his birthright (his inheritance, the blessings that he gets simply from being a firstborn son) all for a simple bowl of soup!
Jacob is the one whom we shame in this passage because he was crafty, but the bible doesn't shame him. Instead it says of Esau, "that no one is sexually immoral or unholy like Esau, who sold his birthright for a single meal"(Hebrews 12:16 ESV). So what on earth did Esau do to deserve that to be said of him?
He took for granted the blessing.
How on earth could he miss it? His grandfather (who died when he was 15 approx.) was the most infamous of the OT saints! Promised that his descendants would be a great nation, numbering more than the stars in the heavens! He gave up the chance for God to bless him and his descendants for a measly bowl of soup!
My point is this: We are so much like Esau. We don't understand the depth of the grace we've been given! We are fooled so easily out of our right as believers for meaningless things that we find on earth. Do you not realize that all of the inheritance is yours? The eternal God grants you eternal life and to provide for you all you need (and this gift is obtained even now)!
I was listening to Future of Forestry today and the song lyrics said this:
"Take what you’re granted
Love be your mantra
Take what you’re handed
Love be your mantra"
Love be your mantra
Take what you’re handed
Love be your mantra"
Believer, stop taking grace for granted and receive what you have been granted. It's a free gift. Simply by being born into Christ you have it all. Don't allow it to be stolen or sworn away by simple pleasures of this world. Don't allow your doubts and fears and flesh to trick you out of the gift of life you have been given.
Chelsy.
11/27/12
How is This Love?
[2] “I have loved you,” says the LORD. But you say, “How have you loved us?” “Is not Esau Jacob's brother?” declares the LORD. “Yet I have loved Jacob [3] but Esau I have hated. I have laid waste his hill country and left his heritage to jackals of the desert.”
(Malachi 1:2-3 ESV)
(Malachi 1:2-3 ESV)
I believe we are brought up with a deserving attitude. We firmly believe in our hearts that we deserve the best and that we deserve it now. I've seen it at both of my work places. I've literally hear men and women say "I will do what I want to how I want to." But when it comes to the consequences of our actions we are quick to defend ourselves and we legitimately believe we don't deserve to be treated so "unfairly".
I believe we need to redefine some words in our vocabulary.
The word: fair. Our definition (in the way we act) would classify fair as whatever benefits me. The criminals should receive a penalty for their crimes until I become a criminal. At that point it becomes unfair that a life sentence would be my penalty. The real definition of fair, however, is by righteous judgement of actions in accordance with some standard or rule. God always makes His standards clear, and the standard is Himself.
The words: good and bad. To us, good and bad are based on emotions, that's why the standards and laws for us are always changing. God defines good and evil right from the beginning. His intentions, His creations are both good. The first hint of evil comes out of lies, deceit and betrayal and from that day forward all the intentions of man's heart are evil.
So, as cliche' as it may sound, if we were to better define these words we would say that God is fair, God is good. He is the standard and we do not measure up.
I say all of this to pull you back into this verse from Malachi. The Lord loves us, not simply an emotional love and definitely not because we earned anything. What I am about to say is hard to hear, and some of you may not like to hear it, but the truth is God is free to choose who He will and will not extend grace to. To those who believe, it is a free gift, no earning it no losing it-ever! To those who choose to deny His love and resist His word, their own evil falls on their own heads.
But we did not even deserve this chance! From the very begging the standard for sin was death, yet God allowed us in grace to live. Not only to live, but also to live again with Him (eternally)! Not only that, but because He knew man would fail to provide an acceptable sacrifice, He never demanded one, but provided one on our behalf (Himself)!
Yet we, like the Israelites, have the audacity to sit back and question, "How have you loved us?". What we are really asking is, why would you allow pain and hurt and sin and doubt. Why would you not give us what we think is good and fair? It's hard for me to say this, I relate to the Israelites so much on this, but God is loving us even through these things. He loves us because He saved us. He loves us because He bears with us and is patient through our sin. He loves us even though He isn't obligated to.
We need to redefine love. God is love.
Chelsy.
11/21/12
Victory Over My Flesh.
I cannot explain to you how important communication is.
Last night I felt anxious, stressed, and alone in it. Jeffrey had just come home from Kentucky and I was excited to see him, but my excitement was suppressed by this lack of confidence and contentment (for supposedly no reason at all!). It took sitting down with him face to face and just talking, not necessarily about those feelings, but just anything and everything. About future, expectations, excitement, anything that is open and honest.
I can feel secure in his love.
I have trouble being told about a mistake I've made and not dealing with it right away. My roommates are starting to learn this the hard way. I immediately begin to feel overwhelmed, guilty, or defensive, for no reason at all (because usually this is a simple problem to fix). But the other night for instance, I confronted my simple fears and talked to Lisa and the issue was over so quickly we forgot it even existed, and it gave us the chance to get to know each others' heart better.
I can feel secure in my sisters' love.
Jesus is the most patient in relationship with me. He knows how insecure I can be, how much I can doubt who He says He is, and how much I fail at loving Him back. Yet He pursues me intensely! The other night I went to bed feeling like death, like I was so far and I didn't know where to go or how to find my way back. I woke up with the most assured feeling that He was right there in the room, in my heart, and in this situation with me. I began to tell Him, in honest, how I felt and I could begin to ask for His help and to thank Him for being with me.
I feel most secure in His love.
Communication bears the fruit of love. It breaks down barriers and invites others in. We can't go on hiding in the shadows, but allow Him to expose us. Although fear and shame and guilt will desire that we stay in hiding, it's so very worth it.
Chelsy
Last night I felt anxious, stressed, and alone in it. Jeffrey had just come home from Kentucky and I was excited to see him, but my excitement was suppressed by this lack of confidence and contentment (for supposedly no reason at all!). It took sitting down with him face to face and just talking, not necessarily about those feelings, but just anything and everything. About future, expectations, excitement, anything that is open and honest.
I can feel secure in his love.
I have trouble being told about a mistake I've made and not dealing with it right away. My roommates are starting to learn this the hard way. I immediately begin to feel overwhelmed, guilty, or defensive, for no reason at all (because usually this is a simple problem to fix). But the other night for instance, I confronted my simple fears and talked to Lisa and the issue was over so quickly we forgot it even existed, and it gave us the chance to get to know each others' heart better.
I can feel secure in my sisters' love.
Jesus is the most patient in relationship with me. He knows how insecure I can be, how much I can doubt who He says He is, and how much I fail at loving Him back. Yet He pursues me intensely! The other night I went to bed feeling like death, like I was so far and I didn't know where to go or how to find my way back. I woke up with the most assured feeling that He was right there in the room, in my heart, and in this situation with me. I began to tell Him, in honest, how I felt and I could begin to ask for His help and to thank Him for being with me.
I feel most secure in His love.
Communication bears the fruit of love. It breaks down barriers and invites others in. We can't go on hiding in the shadows, but allow Him to expose us. Although fear and shame and guilt will desire that we stay in hiding, it's so very worth it.
Chelsy
11/19/12
Every Lament is a Love Song: To Sing Together.
I've been learning to sing in harmony.
In high school, I was a part of our chamber choir and all state choir. Because of this, I was blessed with the opportunity of having an incredible, once-in-a-lifetime experience - to hear the true beauty of music. I cannot rightly explain to you the shear thrill of standing in front of an audience with the conductor holding your next breath in his right hand and hundreds of eyes poised and ready to react, with the hum of pitch already in their hearts. I cannot convey to you the emotional reaction of your heart as the words seep from your mouth in a language you don't understand, while your voice dances within the unity of all of those around you. I could use beautiful words, but you would never understand, unless you were there on stage singing with me in harmony.
There is so much to miss about choir. The unity that you have with the others, but not necessarily every day. Anyone in our chamber choir would tell you we hardly all got along all the time, most days this was nearly impossible. But Oh, when we sang! There was a magic that filled our hearts.
Tonight I had the ability to stand by a friend in her pain and suffering and confusion. I felt in harmony with her. Because I've learned the part and know the pitch and have seen the resolution. All I can feel is the impact of the perfect note and I desire for her to hear it too.
God has filled me with joy today. For the first time ever I am able too see my grief as a blessing a be thankful. I stood singing "Have thine own way, Lord" in worship and I know not whether it was my spirit or His inside me that said it, but there was a whisper behind the song (that harmonized so well). It said to the Lord that thine own way may lead me to the valley, but I am willing and eager to go there again. I will be healed and I will be shattered, for you are the great iconoclast and I am willing to know the shadow of death. I trust that He will lead me through valleys to walk me by springs of life and that he will always prepare a feast before my enemies.
In high school, I was a part of our chamber choir and all state choir. Because of this, I was blessed with the opportunity of having an incredible, once-in-a-lifetime experience - to hear the true beauty of music. I cannot rightly explain to you the shear thrill of standing in front of an audience with the conductor holding your next breath in his right hand and hundreds of eyes poised and ready to react, with the hum of pitch already in their hearts. I cannot convey to you the emotional reaction of your heart as the words seep from your mouth in a language you don't understand, while your voice dances within the unity of all of those around you. I could use beautiful words, but you would never understand, unless you were there on stage singing with me in harmony.
There is so much to miss about choir. The unity that you have with the others, but not necessarily every day. Anyone in our chamber choir would tell you we hardly all got along all the time, most days this was nearly impossible. But Oh, when we sang! There was a magic that filled our hearts.
It didn't come over night, though.
The day we learned what song we would be singing was exciting, but the following weeks were gruesome - like torture! you have to get every pitch, every vowel, let alone all the words perfectly. You knew when someone made a mistake. They stuck out like a sore thumb!
But Oh, when we sang! It overtook the crowd, but mostly it shook us. I remember countless times we would finally nail that one part and we would look at each other and gasp with laughter and amazement. I don't exaggerate the awe of this experience. It's truly one of a kind.
This is what Jesus is teaching me. He's acting as my conductor and His church is turning into a most beautiful choir.
On Sunday, it was most experienced. A man and his wife in the midst of unspeakable suffering. He has terminal cancer - what cliche do the Christians have for a man like him? I could feel his pain. Not that I will ever understand a cancer patient's trial, nor would I want to. But what a blessing it was that I was able to pray over them both! I could have never deserved it, but I longed to do so, and I felt it with them and I was glad to sing along-side them in their mournful minor key. As we who know music know to well, the keys in minor and the songs in dissonance, are often the most beautiful, and they often have the most suspiring resolution.
And then there are the things which bring me joy! Unity with one man who will be my own flesh and it's becoming clearer each day what this means! This song is the sweeter, but not grander than the others. It's the theater music that makes the place rumble and the part of the song where you begin to weep and you aren't sure why. The beautiful masterpiece which stops the room for a moment, and the pause is so long you feel your heart may collapse in anticipation, but the whispering Italian words seep back in and relieve you.
God has filled me with joy today. For the first time ever I am able too see my grief as a blessing a be thankful. I stood singing "Have thine own way, Lord" in worship and I know not whether it was my spirit or His inside me that said it, but there was a whisper behind the song (that harmonized so well). It said to the Lord that thine own way may lead me to the valley, but I am willing and eager to go there again. I will be healed and I will be shattered, for you are the great iconoclast and I am willing to know the shadow of death. I trust that He will lead me through valleys to walk me by springs of life and that he will always prepare a feast before my enemies.
The greatest song I will ever know is being composed. I am learning my part and one Day, I will sing it with Him and my soul will not contain my joy.
Chelsy.
11/14/12
Nothing Is About Me.
I've been reading about grief.
The problem with books on suicide is that not a lot is written on the perspective of a survivor of suicide, that is people, like me, who were affected by the one who committed suicide. Beyond that, even less are from a Christian perspective (or if there are I am not aware of them).
However, I did find one book: Too Late to Say Goodbye: Surviving the Suicide of a Loved One by Carla Fine.I also found a book by C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed, about the death of his wife (from cancer). These two combined have begun to teach me how to separate the loss of my dad from the action of suicide, as these are two different things to grieve.
The book by C.S. Lewis is most powerful. This intelligent and faithful theologian feels and thinks just like I do in this time. He's incredibly vulnerable and blunt (as he did not originally intend for it to be published) as his faith is stretched to its limits. In relating to him I've realized something that is huge, at least for me.
He grieves in anger because God has taken something from him. He feels anguish because she was a beautiful part of his life. It made me wonder if he wishes he would have never met her at all, then he wouldn't feel this anguish (as they married knowing she had terminal cancer) . Still, I'm sure if she were here, she would not have felt the same. Because him being in her life for the last few years she had to live, helped her to come to terms with death and with God.
The problem with books on suicide is that not a lot is written on the perspective of a survivor of suicide, that is people, like me, who were affected by the one who committed suicide. Beyond that, even less are from a Christian perspective (or if there are I am not aware of them).
However, I did find one book: Too Late to Say Goodbye: Surviving the Suicide of a Loved One by Carla Fine.I also found a book by C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed, about the death of his wife (from cancer). These two combined have begun to teach me how to separate the loss of my dad from the action of suicide, as these are two different things to grieve.
The book by C.S. Lewis is most powerful. This intelligent and faithful theologian feels and thinks just like I do in this time. He's incredibly vulnerable and blunt (as he did not originally intend for it to be published) as his faith is stretched to its limits. In relating to him I've realized something that is huge, at least for me.
He grieves in anger because God has taken something from him. He feels anguish because she was a beautiful part of his life. It made me wonder if he wishes he would have never met her at all, then he wouldn't feel this anguish (as they married knowing she had terminal cancer) . Still, I'm sure if she were here, she would not have felt the same. Because him being in her life for the last few years she had to live, helped her to come to terms with death and with God.
So it hit me like a brick.
Maybe its not about him. It's about her. What I mean to say is, that God allowed her to have him before she died, not God gave her to him before she died, just to take her away. My point is that my grief is selfish. It's based on God's intentions for only me- please see this! My bitterness believes that God has taken something dear from me, but I hardly consider that He allowed me to be with them and I was a blessing to them (His hand in motion and His grace extended to someone else).
Not that this is a solution to grief. We count it as selfishness and move on. But it denies me any right to accuse the God who is good. Because although the loved one is gone, and there is nothing I can do, and it will never be easy to move on, I can know that He intended this for good (and not just for me).
What I hope to communicate is the idea that it is foolishness for me to believe that God works good only for me. God will work good for all, and I will never know the depths of that. This plan He has is not about me, and I have to understand that and not expect that "my will be done" instead of His.
God kill our pride that says this world was created for us, that the world somehow revolves around what we think is best, and help us to praise You for exactly who You are (that will never change).
Chelsy.
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