I Am NOT Irrelevant

My third revelation of the New Year was the simplest, but it has sparked an amazing amount of momentum within my life.  It is simply this:  I am not irrelevant.  It can often feel just a bit confining to be alone. That perspective is skewed at best, but anyone who has eaten dinner at a restaurant alone, left the sanctuary of their church alone, arrived home to a house that is empty, or spent Valentines’ Day avoiding all retail & media outlets knows what I mean… in a world built for “two,” being “one” makes you feel more like “half.”

One of the greatest shocks I received after becoming a single mother was that I was suddenly an enemy of the movement I had long championed:  the “family values” group.  Suddenly, I represented everything they were afraid of, everything they hated.  I was the woman who had failed at marriage … not once, but twice.  I was the single mother whose kids were doomed for felonious misadventure… I was THAT girl…

I learned just how strong that stigma was on a rainy Sunday morning.  A married gentleman saw me with my two children – one of whom was not yet walking – and he offered to go get my car and pull it up under the portico so that I wouldn’t have to take the children out in the rain.  I gratefully accepted.  It wasn’t until he pulled up in my car and handed me back the keys that I caught a glimpse of his wife’s face.  She was … unhappy, to say the least.  I’m afraid that the poor man probably got a tongue-lashing on the way home, and I probably got labeled as the woman who was trying to steal her husband away.  After that incident, I declined all offers of help; it was just simpler that way.   Clearly, none of the married couples were going to be asking me out to eat with them anymore either, so I had to set off on a new quest:  redefine where I fit as a unicycle in this world that prefers bicycles built for two.

That answer did not come easily.  Truthfully, no one else knew where I was supposed to go either.  In my church, I tended (and still tend) to get shuffled between the youth group (clearly, at almost 36, I’m a little too old for that) and the elderly widows (love those ladies, but they have great-grandchildren that are older than my kids).  Since I didn’t really fit, I chose option C – fade into the background.  Worked pretty well, for the most part, but I didn’t feel connected with my church.  Didn’t feel connected anywhere.  There was a very real part of me that wanted to seek out a new relationship just so that I felt like I belonged in a church, at a grocery store, or just generally on the planet.  That would be a really bad reason to pursue a relationship, so I needed another direction.

On that New Year’s Eve-Day dawning, God had already told me that my dream wasn’t dead.  He had already told me that my home was not broken.  The final revelation was where I “fit.”  In those early hours, I saw that while I was alone, He was personally molding me, making me into who He wanted me to become.  And just as He was shaping me, He was shaping my place in the world.  I was right about one thing – I didn’t fit…yet.  Both my place and my character were still in formation, under His guidance.

As my eyes were opened, I began to see was just how many people were rocking along in the same boat that I inhabited.  There were a LOT of us.  We were just invisible.  I began to reach out to others, sharing my story, listening to theirs.  What I learned is that many wounded people leave the very place they need to be – the church – because they feel isolated and out of place.

The statistics on marriage and divorce are rather staggering.  When you add in widowhood and those who never marry, there is a very large percentage of the population that isn’t in a traditional family.  It is completely unreasonable that those people – such a huge number – should all feel inconsequential to the body of Christ.  This is particularly true when you look at one glaring fact:  the author of the vast majority of the New Testament was a single man.  If Paul could be that effective on his own, well, why not me too?

So my quest in this year is not to find “the one.”  I’m not looking for anybody to “complete me.”  Jesus did that.  I’m looking for every opportunity that I can to spread the gospel, to magnify & glorify the name of Christ, to reach the unreachable & touch the untouchable.  I’m putting “hands & feet” on my faith.  I am not irrelevant to the body of Christ.  In fact, I’m pretty relevant all around, and I’m moving forward.  Anybody want to come along?

Doing Time on the C-List

(This starts a little slowly, but I promise it gets to the point.) Last winter, I was in the midst of a really nasty divorce, so I packed my bags and moved myself and my kids in with my parents to recuperate. The move wasn't THAT big a deal, since it was just up the driveway, but it gave me some peace of mind. Over the course of a month or so, however, quarters started getting a little tight at mom and dad's, so I knew the time had come to go back to IT – my house. But the thought of going back into the same house looking the same way it had before, well that was more than I could bear. Suddenly, the proverbial light bulb went off: I could sell the furniture. But how? Craigslist, of course. I had heard a lot about it. No time like the present to give it a try.

(Stay with me. I promise we are getting there.) So, I wrote up my ad, complete with the heading “Divorce Sale Extravaganza”, and started posting everything that wasn't nailed down. Over three weekends, I sold the entire contents of my 4 bedroom house AND refurnished it. All on Craigslist! But that isn't why I'm writing. The truth is that I learned a whole lot about what I HADN'T been doing to reach the lost from my time on the C-list. And THAT'S why I'm writing here.

First Things First: Being open wins people over.

Simply put, my divorce was an excrutiatingly public experience that brought me to depths of humiliation I had never previously fathomed. By the time I was blithely listing my furniture for sale, I figured I had nothing to lose by telling the three people in the entire county who hadn't heard about the whole thing. So, I put it right out there. “If you are wondering why I am offering this fabulous deal, it's because I'm in the middle of a divorce. My loss can literally be your gain.” What happened in return? People were really open with me. Suddenly, their guard was down. If this total stranger was throwing her life out there, what could they possibly have to lose? Mark and Lisa arrived to pick up my sofa and began to tell me that they were hoping to get married that weekend. Lisa had a two year old daughter, and Mark was stepping in to be a “dad.” Before they left, Lisa pulled me to the side and said, “I can tell you are one of those, oh you know, religious people. Can you pray for me? I want to build the right kind of home for my baby, but I don't know how.”

Second Helpings: Listen, and listen actively.

People are aching for an opportunity to open up. Tanya called me about a couple of bedroom sets. Mine were priced right. She had recently separated from her husband and was starting over from scratch. Could I hold them until the weekend? She and her dad arrived on Saturday morning, and while her Dad and mine took the beds apart and loaded the truck, she just looked like she had something to say, so I asked a few questions. And Tanya began to cry, revealing a story of being abandoned and betrayed. I shared a little of my story, and she looked at me stunned, “Your story is probably worse than mine. And you are standing here smiling at me, comforting ME. I ought to be comforting you. What's the secret? How can you SMILE?” It felt so much like a made-for-tv moment that I almost looked for cameras. Instead, I shared the gospel. Tanya is a hungry soul, and I'm determined to show her where real strength comes from – Christ.

Three Strikes and You're Out: My One Negative Experience.

One afternoon a young apostolic couple showed up to buy my monstrous dining room set. I was pretty excited when I saw them – people of like faith! I greeted them enthusiastically, asking where they were from and making a few “churchy” comments that we apostolics like to exchange. They shut me down pretty quickly. My elbows were showing (egads!), and since I was in the middle of a D-vorce, we were clearly not of like faith. Wasn't much to say but, “ok”. They took the table, but only after trying to get me to discount it into regions unheard of and convincing me that they were completely incapable of humor on any level. (Ever heard the phrase, “His face would crack if he smiled”? It would fit these two.) Lesson learned – Be aware of how you present yourself. If I ran into this couple, I definitely wouldn't want what they had. It looked more like a disease than the Holy Ghost.

Go Fourth: Washing Machines and Sharing the Good News.

Corinne called me at 10:18 pm on a Tuesday night. She started by apologizing profusely for calling so late, but she didn't want to chance missing out on the washer and dryer I had listed. See, her son was in desperate need and this looked like a good set they could afford. I said that the call wasn't any trouble and asked if she had any questions about the set. She didn't, but it turned out she needed to talk. She told me about the bad luck that seemed to follow her son around, about how he was starting over with his kids, and how she felt so inadequate to help him. Well, I saw an opening I couldn't resist. I shared my story, and how God was helping ME. With Him, it did get better and joy came again. Corinne started crying. Her grandma had that kind of faith, but she went to the crazy church where people swung from chandeliers and such. Most of the family thought Granny was a little crazy, but they knew to call her for prayer. I told Corinne that while no one has swung from our chandelier lately, I attend one of those “crazy” churches, and I'd be more than happy to pray for her family.

She showed up a few days later to pick up the washer and dryer, and with a bunch of questions about what her Granny used to tell her. I've got answers, and she asked for my number. I'm hoping that will be a Home Bible Study in the making.

Fifth Wheels – What's the point?

I've barely scratched the surface of my Craigslist encounters, but do you see the trend? It's simple – once I started reaching out, I found hungry people searching for answers. As apostolics, we have become so wound up in our culture that we have forgotten the words of the Great Commission.

It is, “Go ye, therefore . . .”, not “If you build it, they will come.”

We aren't going. We are passing out flyers. We aren't listening. We are talking about our “great services” where the “power of God moves.” Those words are fine, but someone who is lost has no idea what that means. If we are going to reach this world, we must be bold. We must be open. We must allow ourselves to be vulnerable. And we must go to where they are. Even if that is Craigslist . . . now, I must return to the storage shed. There's some more stuff out there that I think I can sell.   

What It Takes to be Called - Part 2

Part II:  Then Comes the Glory, but It Doesn't Seem Too Glorious . . .

The break has been a longer than expected due to Project Reclamation (which included such smaller gems as Operation Bunkbeds, Operation Keyboard, Operation Bye-Bye Teal . . .), but as I was puttering around the house this evening, the Lord said that it was once again time to write.  So here I am . . .

The last part of the examination of Isaiah's calling was about what had to happen first – the death of the King.  What came next was the glory.  We like that word a lot, at least I did growing up.  I can distinctly remember a sappy, sugary Peter Cetera song about “The Glory of Love” . . . “I am a man who will fight for your honor, I'll be the hero you've been dreaming of.  We'll live forever knowing together that we did it all for the glory of love.”  Sweet song, and that was my concept of glory – feels good, looks good, is nice to snuggle up with and cuddle.  That, folks, is NOT Biblical glory.  Not even a little bit.

My first glimpse of what Biblical glory was really about came through one of Tommy Tenney's Godchaser books.  He said (to paraphrase) that modern Christians confuse the anointing and the glory of the Lord.  The anointing puts you in the zone, feels warm and wonderful, and generally just makes the world feel right.  The glory, though, knocks you on your face.  That's just what happened to Isaiah.

Isaiah 6:3 – And one cried unto another, and said, “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts:  the whole earth is full of his glory.

The glory of the Lord has arrived at Isaiah's doorstep.  His train is filling the temple.  Watch what happens next:

Isaiah 6:4  And the posts of the door moved at the voice of him that cried, and the house was filled with smoke.

I don't know about you, but that doesn't sound really warm and wonderful to me – more like an earthquake combined with a tornado.  The very foundations of the temple trembled; it became difficult to see clearly.  There was a haze about the place that blended with Isaiah's grief.  And what was Isaiah thinking about?

Isaiah 6:5 – Then said I, “Woe is me!  For I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips:  for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts.

In the midst of this majestic and quite frankly terrifying display of power, in the midst of his intense grief over loss, Isaiah realizes that he, who has faithfully worked for the kingdom, is still woefully unworthy to be in the presence of a holy God.  He realizes that he is part of a people with unclean lips living in a fallen condition, still undeserving.  Even now.  How humbling for him that must have been.  And to have seen the King – to want to approach Him so badly – and to know that you were completely undone in His presence.

Thus far, we know this, if you want to be called,
You will experience great loss as things that are not compatible with the promise are stripped away.
You will experience a tearing and a shaking in your life, as the very foundations of your faith are shaken, just as the foundations of the temple were shaken in Isaiah's time.
You will become aware that you are NOT who you need to be . . . yet.

Have you seen your foundation shaken?  Have you felt your world tremble in doubt as you faced a loss?  Have you been left unable to see the direction that you need to take?  Does your world seem hazy and full of pain?  Do you feel unworthy to do what God has called you to do because of these things?  Then look up, God may be calling . . .

There is a cleansing that must take place if you are going to fulfill His call.  And that cleansing may just lead to more pain.  Makes you wonder, when someone says that they want to be used of God, do they really understand what that means?  And as for the pain, more on that later . . .

I Woke Up This Morning With My Mind . . . Stayed on Jesus

Anyone who has ever been a parent - or just been around a child for any length of time - will tell you that they teach you far more than you will ever teach them . . .

A couple of weeks ago, my son - the smartest, handsomest, cutest, happiest and most loving little boy on the planet (Who me, biased?) - learned a new "trick". He's 14 months old, and new tricks are a specialty with him. He's very talented, and one his most amazing abilities involves his skill as a human alarm clock . . .

Promptly at 4:45 am, he woke up his Mama. As I dragged myself bleary-eyed to a sitting position, he began a very odd ritual. He clapped his hands, threw them up into the air and began to yell "Day-zoo! Day-zoo! Day-zoo!"

Day zoo. ?

My mind started working overtime. Since Pimsleur languages has yet to offer a course in toddler, I was on my own trying to translate this bit of communication. Well, he'd been to the zoo recently. Did he want to spend the day at the zoo?

So, brightly and happily, Mama says, "Oh yes, David Earl. One day soon we will spend a day at the zoo."

Blank stare.

Ok, I'll try again. "Day at the zoo! Monkeys - screech, ooh-ooh, ah-ah. Day at the zoo!"

He's laughing at me, thinking, silly woman. You are SO wrong.

So, I pick him up and we do our daily hug-and-kiss fest before his six year old sister comes in and gets jealous. And I forget about Day-zoo, in more ways than one.

The ritual repeats itself over the next several mornings. Clap-clap-clap. Wave-wave-wave. "Day-zoo! Day-zoo! Day-zoo!" And I am still utterly clueless. Until Sunday morning.

We go to church, drop Noelle off at Sunday school and take our usual pew. I put him down beside me. And then I see it.

Clap-clap-clap. Wave-wave-wave. And with the biggest grin I have EVER seen . . . "Day-zoo! Day-zoo! Day-zoo!" My, my. How foolish am I? Day-zoo is toddler for Je-Sus. And I laughed. And others laughed. And we all thought it was cute. And I missed the point for yet another morning.

Until Monday. 4:45 a.m. I'm still asleep, but I hear it. Clap-clap-clap. Wave-wave-wave. "Day-zoo! Day-zoo! Day-zoo!" And then the Lord speaks to me in that strange way that He will sometimes. The old song began to play in my mind:

I woke up this morning with my mind . . . staid on Jesus
I woke up this morning with my mind . .. staid on Jesus

And as the melody played on in my brain, this question came with it: How many times have you sung that song? Did you ever REALLY mean it? Did you ever REALLY wake up and think of Me?

And as I watched my sweet baby son, I realized he is a whole lot smarter than I am. He's still a baby who needs assistance to do . . . everything . . . but he's learned the most important lesson of all. Where his first priority should be.

Clap-clap-clap. Wave-wave-wave. Day-zoo! Day-zoo!

I may be a slow-learner, but I know when the Master is teaching me a lesson. So I lifted my hands, and joined my son.

Clap-clap-clap. Wave-wave-wave. Day-zoo! Jesus! THIS is the way to start the day!

Four hands, two voices. One Father, watching over us both. Thank you, my son. You have this day made your mother proud, and wiser too.