The Runner's Perspective

I have hesitated to post this piece of writing for a little while now due to the fear of coming across incorrectly. However, I have decided to share it in hopes that it will inspire and bless in some way.  

I pieced the following words together a few months ago after a conversation with a friend about "gutter people" (those who go out to find the lost) versus "maintenance keepers" (those who care for the found). In my observations over the years, I have seen that both are mandatory in the Church of Jesus Christ, however there are also often misunderstandings between them. Those who tend the ninety-nine get nervous when their runner friends head off onto all kinds of dangerous escapades in search of the lost. In return, the runners get frustrated at all the well-intentioned but sometimes suffocating concerns handed to them by their maintenance friends. 

How to fix this? I have no simple answers, but if we would embrace our differences and find unity in Jesus' heart to further His kingdom through discipleship and evangelism, we could work together well. Not only that, we would work together powerfully. 

And so... hear the heart of a runner.  

Some are not meant to walk the halls of churches for a lifetime

Saying their prayers piously without a pause,

Wearing their robes of righteousness correctly,

Completely oblivious to cries from outside.

Some people really are meant to be runners...

Rescuers, saviours, embracers, deliverers.

Perhaps that is why some of us get bored and listless,

When we play inside too long and forget to see the sun.

We begin to wither without fresh air.

Our souls scream for lack of rain.

We join the choir but then get tired of singing soprano, when we were made for alto.

We try singing bass but discover we have a tenor octave. 

Perhaps it is time that we do what we were made for.

Without judgment, without a great ado, without a major flourish.

Just simply to go and be faithful in the places God has called us to. 

We may look crazy, a little disillusioned, but Jesus did too. 

He broke social barriers and protocol that would have made the Pharisees blush. 

They did get angry, but He kept on... In the name of love - in the name of compassion.

And some of us see the haunted eyes down the street. 

We never think about the cost to get to them. 

We simply know that we must go, lest they die alone. 

And in our breasts there beats a strong and daring melody that never quiets.

As long as we are alive, we must answer or be miserably unfaithful.

We go to bed with faces in our memory - faces of sadness and hopelessness.

We wake up with resolve to help and to find and to rescue,

Knowing it is by His strength, but knowing it is our calling.

And if you are one who maintains the church building,

The one who makes sure all the I's get dotted and the T's all get crossed. 

Please do what you're doing because we need you in your spot.

But when we are running, please send up a prayer.

Don't judge what we are doing, because your call isn't there.

You dust your corners, and we'll go to ours. And when time ends - 

We'll all hear, "Well done good and faithful servant."

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The Place of Desperation

A little while ago, I was talking to a friend of mine and recalling the two weeks of intense pain I experienced back in the fall. As I told the story, I remembered how I laid on the couch curled up in a ball with worship music right by my ear. Then the miracle happened. I have tried a few times to explain it, and keep falling short of words, so I looked at my friend and simply said, "I don't know how else to explain it, but it was like Jesus was right there with me. Ever since, He is just the most beautiful thing. Like just, SO beautiful. If I had to do those two weeks over again, just to experience that, I would." 

And I have come to see something clearly. Jesus comes to those who have reached desperation. He comes to those who have nothing left to give or to bring. That is where He wants us. In the words of Brother Yun, "It is not great men who change the world, but weak men in the hands of a great God." 

I read Luke 7 and see a mother aching with grief over her dead son. Jesus draws near, sees her desperation, and performs a miracle. In Mark 6, I see Jesus withdrawing to a desert place for a rest. But as He is leaving, people see Him and come running. I mean that's desperation. To drop everything and go chasing after a man disappearing in a ship? That means someone was determined and like I said, desperate. But then Jesus... Scripture says, "He was moved with compassion, because they were like sheep without a shepherd." (vs.34) So He begins to teach them. Not just a bit to satisfy them and get them out of His hair, but according to verse 25, many things - MANY things! He honoured their hunger for spiritual truth. He read the desperation in their souls, and He answered abundantly. 

And that is the life of the person desperate enough to run after God. The person who goes to sit at His well spring, when spiritual life seems bone dry. The person crazy enough to knock in faith on a door that appears to be bolted shut. The person who praises an unseen God, when the plan doesn't seem to be making any sense. The person who marches around the walls of his Jericho, until his God knocks them down. 

Are you desperate enough to find Him? He is ready and waiting as always, but how much do you want Him? How much do you think you need Him? He comes to the broken-hearted, the oppressed, the forgotten, the caught-deep-in-sin kinds of people. The ones who hang their head in shame at the list of deeds they have wracked up. But He never pushes His way into a life that doesn't want Him. Never once did He impose himself upon the performers, the do-it-perfecters, the I-have-it-altogether ones. Did He come for them? Oh yes He did, but He waits for them to see their true need. He waits for them to call on Him, and then He comes - comes in all His great and beautiful abundance.

In conclusion, we must see how lost we are. We must see how broken we are. We must see how impossible we are. We must see how absolutely unable we are. And then God will move. When we come with a simple word and call out to Him in childlike faith, He will answer - He will do it. ❤️

Hidden Faces - Hidden Stories

There are those of us who have smiles on our faces, but under the glitter lies a myriad of emotions and crevasses we don't know how to fill. They snake long - unattended gutters under the careful facades we have fashioned to appear glitzy and unmarred to the world. Truth be told, we hurt. We scream for help, but don't know how to ask for it. We ache but don't have words for it. We fall and blush crimson, then wipe away the tracks with a leafy twig. We hide. We try to run. We'd hate if the world saw our humanity and imperfection. Sometimes our facades crack a little and bitterness or tears leak out. We viciously swipe them away and look around furtively hoping that no one noticed.   

I have been introduced to a variety of stories in my lifetime - some beautiful, some exciting, and some absolutely heartbreaking. I have also seen narratives that cannot and never will be laid out for the public eye as long as this earth continues on its orbit around the sun. And I wonder how often we have gotten it wrong and criticized too quickly. How often have we judged someone by the expression on their face when behind the smile or frown is a whole conglomeration of extra thoughts, emotions, and scenarios that we may never know? 

If nothing else, perhaps we could learn to handle other people's lives and hearts with a little more grace. Instead of jumping to conclusions or adding a well-rehearsed piece of advice, we could listen and wait. Maybe we could sit still long enough to react with Holy Spirit love and forbearance instead of humanistic criticism and judgment. Just maybe we could.

I have also come to understand that stories can be confusing until they are finished. Too often we see people partway through a testimony or trial and assume all kinds of things when God is simply doing it in His timing and in His way. He is completely comfortable around people who don't have their life together and who make a lot of mistakes. Just read the Gospels and watch Jesus spend time with His disciples, find short Zaccheaus in a tree, and talk to the woman caught in adultery. Awhile ago, I travelled up to one of our orchard hills and jotted the lines below:

I sit atop the mountain, gazing over the slowly greening valley below. The naked grape vines angle up from the mud-laden earth like ragged skeletons from a grave. Fall dropped their leaves and stole their colour. Winter came and ravaged them completely. They have sat there hibernating, waiting, for five long months of frigid weather. The seed of life lies silently in surrender, waiting for the sun to shine its command and bring forth green luscious living once more. It looks hopeless and yet it is not. It looks messy and yet it is following order. 

Perhaps that is us. Sometimes God allows seasons of brokenness and withering to occur so that the season of life appears as glorious and true as it ought to. Perhaps we are not really lost or hopeless. Perhaps we are simply holding a seed of life for the proper time. May the sun come again. And until then, as we wait in our broken crooked forms, let us have grace - grace for ourselves and grace for others. For we serve the Master of Heaven who is also the Master of Grace.

One

All through history God has used "one" to accomplish His purposes. Jesus Christ His own son was the epic example of this. In Romans 5, Paul details how by one man, Adam, sin came into the world but then the gift of grace came by one man, Christ Jesus. 

I think of Noah and how God used one man, who was righteous in His generation, to save the human race and build an ark. I think of Abraham and his choice to follow God to a new country, not having any idea what would transpire. I think of Joseph, the one man in Egypt who trusted the God of his fathers and was used to save his people. I think of Daniel, the one man who prayed when others bowed, and how his faith led a king and an entire country to choose repentance. I think of Joseph and how God used this one man to protect Mary the mother of Jesus as well as to father the Christ child through childhood. I think of Paul the Apostle, the one man God used to bring the Gospel to the Gentiles. I think of Stephen, the one man who was the first martyr because he was willing to speak the truth. 

Mary was that one woman that God knew He could trust to say yes to carrying the Christ child. Elizabeth was that one woman chosen to have a child in her old age; the child who became that one man who was the forerunner of Christ. Rebecca was that one woman for Isaac, and Sarah was that one woman who deserved mention in Hebrews 11 because she trusted God and Abraham in faith. Deborah was that one woman who inspired Barak to go to battle. 

Then I sit back and think of the price. Every single one of these people had to pay an enormous price. Jesus paid with His life as well as His reputation and comfort. Noah was mocked and scorned for building an ark in the middle of dry weather. Abraham left all that was near and dear to him and took the risk of moving his family into unknown territory. Joseph was stuck in a prison far from family and friends for years on end. Daniel risked his life to pray and was ridiculed and attacked by opposition. Joseph jeopardized his clean reputation by marrying Mary. Paul's life was constantly in danger, and he left all that was comfortable and familiar to him. Stephen lost his physical life because he spoke the truth.

Then we get to Mary, a woman ostracized and accused falsely by society. She was nearly divorced by her fiancee, but saved by God's intervention. Her life was one of deep pain as she watched her Son live out his ministry and die a terrible death. Elizabeth was willing to walk by faith and carry a child in her old age. Rebecca left behind all that she knew and travelled with a strange servant to a strange land to marry a man she had never met. Talk about faith! Sarah's life was anything but easy as she travelled with Abraham across the land. She was taken into a King's palace and nearly given in marriage to him. She was barren for years but then finally gave birth to a miracle child in her 90s. Deborah was willing to go to war. 

I look at their examples and I ask myself the question: Am I willing to pay the price and walk in faith, or would I rather settle for a half-in sort of commitment? Truth is, Jesus never negotiates that way. Scripture asks us to deny ourselves, take up our cross and follow Him. Oh that there would be more men and women willing to be that one person that God uses. 

As stated by John Knox, "A man with God is always in the majority."

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"What the Church needs to-day is not more machinery or better, not new organizations or more and novel methods, but men whom the Holy Ghost can use – men of prayer, men mighty in prayer. The Holy Ghost does not flow through methods, but through men. He does not come on machinery, but on men. He does not anoint plans, but men – men of prayer.”

— E.M. Bounds

An Ode to My Parents

It is high time that I write a post to honour two of the most important people in my life. No it isn't officially Father's or Mother's Day, but this topic has come to me because of the trail I have been observing over the last few weeks.

You see, I have been living in the land where I grew up - the land where many people know my parents and henceforth know me. But it is good, because I keep stumbling upon people that are happy to see me because of what my parents meant to them. 

As long as I can remember, my father has been the kind of person that noticed people who needed help. He never was loud about it or did it for praise, but his trail is beginning to show. As I travel around, I keep meeting people who were touched by his kindness in some way - the group of bachelors who used to end up at our table Sunday after Sunday because he invited them, the middle-aged man who needed help with his finances, the desperate woman who found shelter in our house during a troubled period of her life, and the list goes on. I have forgotten many of them until I see the results - thankful eyes, restored lives, people with hope again, and people who pass it on to others. I see a legacy. One that is imperfect, because yes that sort of life was not always easy for him or us as his family, but I believe that we as children will always be grateful for his example, and carry it on in various ways in our own lives.

And then there is my Mom. Were it not for her, that type of life would never have been possible. She could have shut the door on people, refused to make extra potatoes on those Sundays, or insisted on having her own friends over. Instead she graciously gave, graciously accepted, and graciously blessed. I have seen her put up with difficult situations with the patience of Job and the kindness of Jesus many times over. She loves what some people would call the unlovable and forgives what some people would call the unforgivable. She also is a friend to those who need help. I remember the woman who got off the bus at the end of our lane to spend the day when her life was bound tightly in the grips of OCD. I remember the mentally handicapped woman who would come to wash dishes and make puzzles because of Mom's kind heart. I have had friends tell me that they remember our home as a place where they were always welcome.  I know they walked into an uncleaned kitchen or bathroom at times, but the door was always open and food available.

The result of this has been a pair of people that have impacted a large number of souls. Their lives have not been easy and I have seen them walk through storms that could have torn their marriage and even faith apart. But they held fast, and I am honoured to be the daughter of parents who have kept the faith and followed Jesus' heart in so many ways. They are far from perfect, but they love and give well.

Today they continue - faithful every day. Their door still swings both ways, there is still food in the pantry as needed, my dad's finances are still the Lord's, my mother still gives food out of both hands where possible, and anyone who needs help knows where to go for it. 

Their legacy continues to grow as they keep serving whoever God brings into their path. I think about legacy and wonder what I will leave behind. What will people see when I leave a place? What will they hear about? What will I have spent my time on? Life is so short. Only what's done for Jesus will really matter and last. ❤️

My Sister Upstairs

Today I have the privileged position of relaxing on a bed in my sister's basement and listening to the sounds of her mothering waft through the floor. I hear the crying baby, the scraping chairs, the clattering feet, and the chattering toddler. Then I hear one strong musical voice along with two smaller wavering ones sing the lyrics of their little noon prayer:

For balmy sunshine, for nourishing rain, dear Lord for Thy goodness we thank Thee. For food and Thy care. Rich blessings we share. The fruit of Thy love and we thank Thee. We thank Thee O God. Amen. 

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And I see my sister's faith, calm and steady through turbulent days, guiding her children to what is important. Is she perfect? No. She would be the first to say she isn't. But she is beautiful. Beautiful because she knows what matters and is living it out every day.

This post is for the mothers. Those dear souls who spend days doing the jobs nobody else would sign up for. The tenacious people who find themselves at their wits end for wisdom and strength many times over, but continue on in the Name of Love. 

Keep going my friends. Keep going. I have never been a mother, but I have been a teacher, and I see the absolute importance and irreplaceable value that a present Christian mother brings to her home and family. Blessings and keep your eyes up today. 🥰

The Life I Wanna Live

I don't wanna be led by Instagram,

I'd rather hear the Holy Ghost with clarity, than run in the confusion of a million jumbled voices. 

I don't want an empty religion,
I'd rather be baptized with fire and let the Holy Spirit make me one of His live wires.

I don't wanna run with the pack.
I'd rather sit still in the silence and listen... for that still small voice of truth that leads so clearly.

I don't wanna live a life of safety.
I'd rather run a rescue shop a hundred yards from hell and walk like those in the Hall of Faith. 

I don't wanna live in blindness.
I'd rather have eyes that see beyond the heavy facades suffocating victims in their pain.

I don't wanna judge people like a human would.
I'd rather love hard like my God and let Him send me in there to rescue all the people who got lost in the crowd.

I don't wanna live for my glory.
I'd rather live low like the Ultimate Servant and simply bring others to Him.

I don't wanna live a life that's wasted. 
I'd rather spend moments extravagantly on issues concerning my King. 

I don't wanna live life like I'd live it.
I'd rather let Him live in me and pray that every moment would become sacred as people see Him in clarity.

I wanna know the God who created me so well

That His character runs in my veins.

I wanna be so full of the Bread of Life

That those who are hungry will come and be sustained.

I wanna be so filled with Him that I get forgotten,
And all who look at me will see only the nails that bought them.