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 . . .

In my quest not to bury myself in the hole and hide, I was praying earlier this week for 'something' constructive to do this weekend while my kids were away. Honestly the prayer was tinged with just a little desperation. The thought of having to face an empty weekend was a little more than I could handle.

And what do you know? In the mailbox, there is a card announcing a Vicki Yohe concert. I actually attended one of her concerts before - 20 years ago to be exact, in Carthage, Mississippi. I called my friend Kim, for whom this was also going to be a difficult weekend, and she agreed to go with me. Not exactly a party, but it sure beats being at home alone.

Not sure what I was expecting - a few songs. A night out. But in the midst of the concert, the Lord truly spoke something to my heart. As Vicki Yohe was singing, she also made a statement about prayer - instead of begging God, speak your desires into existence.

Now, I know that is not a novel concept, and I'm quite sure that in 34 years of church attendance, I've heard it many times. But what I realized was that for the longest time, that's not been the way I pray. I have groveled, begged, and gotten frustrated because God didn't give me the blue lollipop instead of the red one. (You know what I mean . . . )

So I left the concert with a whole new attitude. I want a different kind of life than the one I have lived for the past 16 years. I want the Lord to use my gifts for His glory. I want to develop friendships. I want a strong family. And, in a very practical sense, I need my current house to sell so that I can start over. If I truly want those things (and groveling hasn't worked), perhaps I had best try praying the prayer of faith and speaking those desires into existence.

It's time for faith - not just begging God for something to happen, but believing that HE WILL DO IT. Anyone want to join me?

A Mississippi Interfaith Prayer Meeting

My daughter attends the same school I teach at. It's a secular private school that is based on Christian principals. That basically means that prayer is okay within the class, they have devotionals, and faith can be discussed openly. But it's not corporate. And there are a good many non-Christian students.

Noelle is in K5, and her best buddies are Navarn and Tanya, children of Indian immigrants, and Wondeful, a Chinese immigrant. They are Hindu and Buddhist respectively. We were having a discussion this morning on prayer, and Noelle informed me that she, Wondeful, Navarn and Tanya had a prayer meeting on the playground yesterday, and that they have prayer every day at lunch. I was curious and asked her to explain:

At lunch, Noelle apparently blesses her food every day and ends her prayer with the phrase, "and don't let me throw up in Jesus name." Her friends have noticed the prayer, and since she has never thrown up after lunch, they decided to pray it too. (I have no idea why any of them expect to throw up.)

They gained such faith by the evidence of not throwing up after lunch, that when a caterpillar crisis erupted yesterday on the playground, they had a plan. One of the other children, Thomas Daniel, had thrown a handful of caterpillars he had collected into a puddle, and said caterpillars were struggling for survival. Noelle and her friends "rescued" them from the puddle, but apparently, they thought the caterpillars were still in distress. So, Noelle led them in prayer for the lives of the caterpillars - she pled the blood of Jesus over the puddle-drenched caterpillars. And pretty soon, Nevarn, Tanya and Wondeful were pleading the blood of Jesus too.

I had to try really hard, but I didn't laugh when my daughter told this story, because she was wonderfully serious about the whole thing. The caterpillars survived, and she's convinced it was the blood of Jesus that did it. I'm not sure if Jesus' blood literally saved the caterpillars, but I know that it left an impression on four little girls praying on the playground.

And for one moment in the world, in Central Mississippi, there was a prayer meeting of one Apostolic, one Buddhist and two Hindus where all four were pleading the blood of Jesus. My own prayer? That it will be a seed in the hearts of those children that God will nurture into something bigger than we can imagine.

Sometimes God can use foolish things to confound we who feel so wise . . .

Dear Lord,

I received that call again today - the one that has come one time too many. My sister, your child, is still on the path of the prodigal, and she's found herself in the pigpen again. Lord, I don't have the strength to walk this path.

I've learned the hard way that I can fix it. I've tried. I've failed miserably. I've learned the hard way that my humanity fails every time. As much as I love her, I cannot 'fix' it. I can do nothing. I am powerless, and I don't like that feeling.

You are an all-seeing, all-powerful God. You see exactly where she is this morning, and you will know her steps this evening. Several months ago, I took this situation, and I placed it on the altar of faith. I began to trust that YOU were the author and finisher of my faith, even on this most difficult path. And now God, as I am tempted to grab my telephone and start making futile attempts to "fix" it, I will instead remind myself that this is no longer my problem. It is YOURS.

Into Your capable hands, I commended her soul, and her life. And I will renew that again this moment - today, this day, I once again hand this mess over to You. Take my mustard seed of faith and multiply as only You can!

She was dedicated to you as a baby. She has experienced the power of Your Holy Spirit taking hold of her life. You know how to draw her near, though I do not. You are an omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent Father, and You know just what it will take to bring her back to the Father's house. I trust You to do it.

Two thousand years ago, there was another dark moment when hope died. The Messiah lay in a tomb, and Hell rejoiced. But how wrong they were! Peter's faith collapsed. I can't blame him - mine probably would have too. But he simply couldn't see your plan - it felt like failure because it didn't look like he thought it should. BUT YOU WERE STILL GOD. YOU WERE STILL IN CONTROL. And Hell had to take a step back just a few days later, when deliverance arrived in a most unexpected way! You conquered death and the grave. And you did it for me. And you did it for my sister.

And as doubt whispers in my ear that I need to get up and fight the battle, I know that the battle was over long ago. I can't say that I see or understand Your plan in all of this, but I know what the end will be! The victory is mine - and hers - if I will just get out of the way. Satan can rage - he is defeated anyway. Tempest in a teapot . . .

So in this dark moment, I will rejoice. I will sing your praises. Here in my living room, I will dance before you. For victory is mine. Though I can't yet see the plan, You can. And that's enough. You are in the pigpen with her, and You know the way out.

So I will praise your name. You are God. You are good. I choose to trust. It is enough.

Amen