turning point

Sitting in the back room @ school, waiting for a laminator to heat up, I felt the urgency of squeezing in some morning devos, so I hauled out the camo and opened up in the psalms. Hoping for something to divert me from my present personal frustration, seeking direction, and craving connection, I flipped to Chapter 13...

"O Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever?
How long will you look the other way?"

Hahahaha....talk about connecting to my headspace in the opening verse!
Hello?!!!
Remember me down here?!!!
Relocated to the arctic wastelands of Fort Saskatchewan?!!
My whole "visitation" to the western world was inspired by the need to seek God. To quiet down my life and listen. To get some answers...some direction - without feeling the pressures of being pushed and pulled in every direction by well-meaning people in my life.

And so far I've got nothing.
Nothing but silence.
And silence is something I'm not usually comfortable with.

You see, I have a problem relaxing...I'm a bit of a workaholic actually. I want to make sure I am maximizing my potential.
I want to live with purpose.
I want to be intentional in every area of my life.
And now it's God's turn to be intentional.
Intentionally silent.
Because His silence is forcing me to stop.
To be patient.
To rest in Him.
To restore my weary spirit.
To rebuild the broken.
To lay burdens down.
To learn to trust.
To exhale.

If He gives me direction, I must go.
If He speaks, I must be obedient in response.
But if he is silent, I must be still and wait on him.
Because, you see, sometimes God's silence is not punishment...
it is a blessing of rest to lives grown weary.
And although we could probably push out another mile,
he gives us what we need in season...
Because he loves us.
Because he is good.

"Restore the sparkle to my eyes...
I trust in your unfailing love.
I will rejoice because you have rescued me.
I will sing to the Lord because he is good to me."

In six short verses, David brings us full circle from the pit of despair, to the reminder of the hope that lives within us...the God who loves us.
And so I wait in silence, knowing the sparkle days will come...

permanent residence at the zoo...

The past few weeks of trying to find a church to intentionally sow into while I live in Alberta has felt like an old game played on first nites of camp. Everyone would get a piece of paper with the name of an animal on it. At the flick of the light switch, you would walk around the room, giving your best impression of the animal in attempts to locate like-sounding suckers.

So the lights have been shut off, and I'm bleating like a sheep, wondering why I can't hang out with the horses for a while...
The church is a phenomenon of the modern age...a walking paradox of beliefs, understandings, practices, experiences, convictions, externals. I find it fascinating that ONE body unified by ONE God can host such extremes! The funny thing (and scary thing at times) is that there is no stereotype for Christians. We are not bound by a limited demographic, class, gender, or style. We bear the artistic brush of a unique God using different mediums to paint a portrait of His bride that lies beyond human definition.

I have walked through the doors of countless buildings, all perfectly content with the thought that the way they "do church" is "the way" church is done. And as they sit comfortably in the pews of their understanding, they often can get caught up with thanking the Lord they are not one of "those people"...

The ones that sing only psalms.
Hymns.
Choruses.

"Those people"
The ones that stand poker straight.
Raise their hands.
Fall on the floor.

"Those people"
The theology driven.
The emotionally experienced.
The emergent.

"Those people"
Old-fashioned.
Trendsetting.
Modern.

But if we will only open our eyes a little wider, we will realize we all fall under the category of "those people"...

We have tidy labels that try to define "us" from "those" people...
Charismatic.
Baptist.
Reformed.
Alliance.
Pentecostal.
Lutheran.
Countless threads of differences, all claiming to follow ONE risen God.

As I've sat in the back rows of churches I am a physical stranger to, I wonder at what God's thoughts would be of today's church. What He thinks of the lines that divide us...the styles that separate us. I often wrestle with the reality of what the body of Christ looks like...
The human body has many parts, but the many parts make up one whole body. So it is with the body of Christ..."

We have all been baptized into ONE body by ONE Spirit, and we all share the same Spirit...

but our bodies have have many parts, and God has put each part just where He wants it. How strange a body would be if it had only one part..." I Cor. 12:12ff

Thankfully there are those who long to see the body of Christ function as a whole.
But there are those who amputate body parts that are not like them.
There are those who are ignorant of any part but their own.
There are those who don't care for anything outside the lines they've drawn in the sand.

There are those within the body that are so tightly laced, they cut off circulation - not only to the rest of the body...but to their soul. On the flip there are those so loose in their beliefs, they are tolerant to anything and everything crawling into bed with them. Being a part of the body means celebrating the mosaic of differences, while maintaining the truth that has set us free.

Being a Christian involves an action on our part: an intentional connection - not just to Christ, but to His body. His bride.

And what a bride she is!
The honeymoon is definitely over...and waking up beside her has been a little bit scary at times...
and yet I need to see her and love her as Christ does.

And so I find myself in places I may not necessarily have chosen for myself,
but I'm growing. I'm learning. I'm sowing...
I'm hanging out with another species, appreciating the differences, and recognizing we are all a part of the same zoo!

Anybody wanna hang out with the chimps next?!!

going public

I feel like I owe someone a public apology. I've been in a bit of a funk as of late, and it is often the ones that are closest to us that bear the brunt of our mood swings, short circuits, and blundering mishaps and bad attitudes. So here I write - for the awareness of my entire facebook and blog community - because I've wounded a friend, and if I can right a wrong - I figure this will be a partial offering of peace...

Here goes nothing...

I'm sorry...I know I didn't drop you a line like I said I was going to. The part of me that wanted to talk was afraid of what we would chat about, and avoiding the opportunity to spill the beans on my current brainwave has become habit. I tend to suck at asking for help, or even making an attempt to reach out...I know you are always there for me - I don't know what I'm afraid of!

I'm sorry I lied. I was TOTALLY the kid with the hand in the cookie jar, hoping that my lie would blind you from what you saw. I don't know why I couldn't just come clean...you knew...and know...and I knew and know that. I was stalling for time...for the bell to save me.

I'm sorry for hiding out like a naked sinner in a garden. Like I could avoid confrontation! I had a momentary lapse where the bottom of the bush seemed like the safest place to stay rather than face the music. I can close the door on my room and shut the world out...and yet you wait patiently outside. Heaven knows why...

I'm sorry that I blamed you...it wasn't your fault. In my meager attempts at trying to understand something without full communication - it gave me very little peace of mind to pin the blame somewhere. Anywhere but on me, or in something I can't understand. It always seems to be a magnetic pull to attach things to you - you are an easy target because you're so patient and will take it like a champ.

I'm sorry that I second-guessed you. I know you told me a million times, and you've never let me down before. Why would this time be any different? And yet - it all seems too good to be true...I'm waiting for you to trip up. To disappoint me. To leave me hanging. I mean, it's not like I haven't done it to you...

I'm sorry for ignoring you...were you talking to me?! It seems easier at times to ask forgiveness for not listening, than failing at what you needed me to do as your friend. I've gotten so used to strategically avoiding what you say in the hopes that I can avert the discomfort of confrontation. I'm being selfish again...

I'm sorry for getting impatient with you. I, of all people, should appreciate fine timing! But ever since I was a kid, I always have had my finger in the batter before the oven's even preheated! I have a hard time waiting for something when my expectations are so extremely high. I must have sounded like the whiny child in the back seat...are we there yet?!!...and having been the driver on many cross-country trips, I should have appreciated the mileage it takes to get to a destination.

I'm sorry that when we were out the other day, there were moments I pretended not to be with you. I'm sure you probably noticed me hiding behind the rack, or plugging in my ipod and plugging out of the public conversation. I wasn't in the mood for sharing, or explaining, or connecting...


I'm sorry God...

for my lack of faith
for my limited trust
for boxing you in
and boxing you out.

You reflect a friendship I cannot comprehend.
May I endeavor to live in the light of that.