cutest blog on the block

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Lessons Learned (already) In Advance of Leaving for Kenya

I'm not even there and already have been deeply impacted.  I can't imagine what it will be like actually getting to go, and I'm SUPER excited about the possibility!  What's more, I'm amazed at how my life has already changed.  (If you don't have time to read, please skip to the bottom and play the video.)

1.  Kenya Time - my Mama will attest to the fact that I'm already living on Kenya time - especially when it comes to being on time for holiday meals.  The lesson I learned is in why our team was told that Kenyans are not characteristically punctual.  They do not sacrifice relationship for punctuality.  I can't necessarily do this at work for meetings with adults, but with the children, those 3 minutes we take at the beginning of pull out time to hear about their lives, or the minute or two taken to chat in the hallway on the way back to their class is invaluable.

2.  Getting in shape - Some of you know how God has blessed me with recent poundage misplacement (53 lbs).  I haven't tried.  Really.  My goal has only been to honor God by giving up my food idols so that I could hear Him speaking to me.  I used to drown the Spirit out with ice cream after a hard day.  I got so tired of hurting after learning that Kip was found with severe alcohol poisoning, my anesthesia of choice became one of the following: Grandma's Chicken and Rice from Stouffers,  Ice Cream - the good stuff (Ben & Jerries, Udderly Delicious, etc.), Brownies every Saturday,  Cinnamon Pop Tarts, Cereal, and garlic bread.  I'm so grateful for Jen Hatmaker's book 7, an experimental mutiny against excess, and my two friends who walked with me through Month 1 of the book.

Even with the weight loss and increase in mobility, there's a new urgency for me to be purposeful about getting in shape.  I still don't feel right about counting calories (read "obsessing over"), but I do need to be more purposeful about the foods I am choosing so that my immune system is built up.   So the cutie pie from Biggest Loser and I will be getting better acquainted via his Yoga for Weight Loss DVD.

3.  Faith, Trust & Following where He leads -  I'm learning to keep open and not use my own wisdom or try to make my own plans come to fruition through manipulation of circumstances or by holding on too tightly to what I think His plan is (or realllllly want His plan to be).   That said, I have to state that if God wills, I'll be going to Kenya in June.  Still a lot more has to come together for it to happen.  The plane tickets haven't been purchased, the money I need hasn't come in, and I am not yet sitting on a plane headed over the ocean.

4.  Gratitude as a priority -  I heard a story about an elderly grandmother and grandfather in their 70's who were living in impoverished circumstances, disabled by untreated injuries whose children were mostly dead - except for a paralyzed daughter who lived at home.  A new friend, who was visiting this family on behalf of the young orphaned grandchildren who are at Benard's school offered to pray with the grandmother.  Her response was to say "Yes, you can pray for us, but first, we MUST thank God for ALL He has given us."

5.  We are not globally aware in our country as a rule.  We don't realize how RICH we really are in the Western World.  I may not be able to pay some bills, and money is definitely tight after the crash.  But listen to this:



Saturday, March 22, 2014

I am *that* Prodigal ...or...Time to Leave the Shire (version 2)

The song we just finished actually started out differently and has morphed into three different songs - only one finished.   A second song that I've been listening for is about the prodigal who stayed home.
This morning as I was drinking my morning worship music (LOVE the new Rend Collective album!!!) and driving to work it hit me - like a telephone pole.

1st off...I'm the prodigal who stayed home.  I make polished, safe choices.  When our family moved down south, I fit in well with the Young Life crowd because my sins weren't obvious.  I tried being good...just for the wrong reasons.  Even though I knew and trusted from an early age that salvation was mine through Christ's sacrifice, I never knew the weight of what I was saved from until years later I did something on purpose that I knew to be considered "sinful".  I was a Christ follower, I led Bible studies on campus, but my love, like the home-bound Prodigal's, was smaller than I thought.

Luke 7:47
"Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.”

I'm definitely not advocating sinning much so that more grace will abound.  But I would say to look deeper at your motives for even the best of your actions.  How odd it is that I was blind to the root system of idolatry which had long entangled  my heart until the soil of my soul's garden was excavated, tilled, and sifted in the suffering I experienced surrounding the destroying of my marriage covenant.  "You shall have no other gods before me" is THE one commandment I've always 'pshaw'ed, like it was an easy A given for just putting our name on the test; and it suddenly became the elephant in the room that is my soul.

At one time or another in our lives we are each of the prodigals.  I tend to sin like the one who stayed more often.

Back to my morning drinking and driving:  The 'telephone pole' thought that stopped me is that the prodigal who left needed to return to the discipline of the property line; and the prodigal who stayed, probably shouldn't have.  His sin was one of not taking the risk of messy relationships.  His sin was contempt towards the Father about how his people pleasing ways didn't earn him brownie points.  His deception:  brownie points = love.  The truth is that Love keeps no record of wrongs, nor does Love keep score. (...and Love probably makes gluten free beet and bean brownies that are better for you - but that's for a different kind of blog.)

My discipline, and act of worship, is in leaving:

*leaving my self protected shell,
*leaving polite people pleasing (read door mat) language,
*leaving comfort zones,
*waking up from the American Dream (or nightmare), and
*leaving to help my Father in the trenches to shepherd prodigals back into the fold.

The Great Commandment

34 But when the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together. 35 And one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. 36 “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?” 37 And he said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. 38 This is the great and first commandment. 39 And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. 40 On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.”

The son who left showed contempt to his Father, breaking the first commandment.  The son who remained broke the second.  He loved his own good deeds more than his returning brother, more than his Father too. We are all at one time or another each of the two.

I hope that I can continue to grow in my ability to be vulnerable enough to let God examine my heart...in the meantime, I'm committed to being open to and grateful for the benefits of suffering.  If suffering only exposes my sinful nature, it's worth far surpasses each pain.  More than that, I hope that I can be less fearful of leaving, and more like Frodo and Sam - aware of their mission, but humble and persistent to continue their journey.

"...man's openness to God is brought about by grace, and grace springs from the suffering of God in his faithfulness to isolated man....Closed systems [or people] bar themselves against suffering and self-transformation. They grow rigid and condemn themselves to death. The opening of closed systems [or people] and the breaking down of their isolation and immunization will have to come about through the acceptance of suffering. But the only living beings that are capable of doing this are the ones which display a high degree of vulnerability and capacity for change. They are not merely alive; they can make other things live as well." (Jürgen Moltmann)

P.S. Gotta love a theologian who writes books called the Theology of Hope , has such an incredible come-over, his own trading card (!!) AND uses a REAL typewriter in 2014!)  http://moltmanniac.com/a-letter-from-jurgen-moltmann/#more-434

Friday, March 21, 2014

Of Cabbages and Kings - Come Walk With Me!

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."
~Lewis Carroll


I find this excerpt from "The Walrus and The Carpenter", a poem in Lewis Carroll's book about Alice in Wonderland, oddly appropriate to frame my story.   It actually makes my heart still with wonder at the symbolism of it all.

I first felt the tug of orphan care in the early 90's - over 20 years ago.  (Surely we've been in a time warp or *something*??)  I was at The Chapel listening to a presentation about an orphanage in Moldova.  It wasn't a particularly well put together presentation (no offense meant), but I was *enraptured*.  The world around me completely melted away.  I can still remember tangibly the intensity of the pull.  I can see where I was sitting when I felt it; and my heart still aches from the white hot, searing confusion of disappointment when cabbage became a door slammed on my heart.

I should explain.  I have a weird asthma trigger.  The smell of cooking cabbage can send my bronchial passages into spasms, faster than a rabbit with a pocket watch runs when he's late.

Apparently orphans in Moldova eat a lot of cabbage.  The movie of my future life working in an orphanage melted while it was still in the projector.

I tucked away the calling in the same place I keep my questions about all things Mysterious, in a safe place where I can pull them out before the Throne at the appointed time.  Some of my questions like "What were you thinking when you made the platypus??" and "Why do you allow pain and suffering?" no longer matter.  (Platypus - a great visual for reminding us not to put God in a box!)  My King has answered them in His perfect time; and I trust the cabbage conundrum will be answered as well.

I first learned about and met Pastor Benard (  http://www.benardsvision.com/ ) several years ago.  Kip and I both were moved to adopt a little girl, and that sweet place where I kept my cabbage conundrum began to smolder.  I had become a teacher and am skilled at working with children with special needs like Autism and Cerebral Palsy.  Surely there are orphans with Autism, and teachers whom I can help?

Kip seemed to really come alive when we prayed for Mary in the coming months. I wondered if my faith about the vision I was given of him would become sight in Kenya.  I even began entertaining hopes that we could have our own children - whether adopted or born into our family.   I suppose Kip was too far gone even then. The seeds of rage and self anesthetizing behavior had already begun to take root.  What happened to Kip is definitely tucked into my "Questions to ask once I'm seated on Abba's lap" file.

"Ships and sealing wax" could be connected to my recent journey where I drove through (yes, through) a telephone/electric pole and flew down a tree filled embankment...and emerged from the car in tact.  It should have been so much worse, but it's as if Abba put a sort of sealing wax around me which kept me (and others) safe.   It was actually that same week that I first heard about an upcoming trip to some Kenyan orphanages supported by Hungry 4 Him ministry.

I still can't believe I'm about to type this next sentence:

I'm going to Kenya this summer as part of the team from Corinth!!!

Is this the calling that was apparently quashed by the cabbage conundrum? (shrug) Kenyan orphans don't appear to eat cabbage by the truckload...though there are probably other deadly things I will encounter there:  snakes, malaria, lack of western toilets to sit on....  I do love that Kenyan's appear to be somewhat gluten free unintentionally.  I will have all the necessary vaccines, and I'm going with a group.  Most importantly, I'm going with God.  He is bigger than cabbage, bigger than snakes, bigger than culture shock, and bigger than fear itself.

At this point, I don't know exactly what I'm going to be doing in June, but I am privileged to get to help somehow.  (The team is getting together with Benard in the coming week or so to fine tune planning)  I was worried that in going I might be standing in the way of being able to foster or adopt.  But an email from DSS came that clearly stated those plans are on hold for at least another few months.  I didn't think I could get a new passport in time.  It came last Saturday.  I don't know how I'm going to raise the money for the trip. (between $3,000 and $3,500 is still needed) All I know, is that I'm in Abba's all capable hand, and that I don't need to read the last chapter of my story to keep moving forward through the chapter that I'm currently in.

I have to pinch myself at each step of the way.  I really get to go!

Don't you love that we serve a God who makes pigs with wings??  :D  Check out this fun song that is fast becoming the banner I'm excited to carry into the midst of the unknown.



PS.  If you'd like to help financially - I'm available for babysitting, knitting lessons, tutoring, and house/pet sitting.  It'd be especially cool if you want to bless a single mom with a night out.  I'll watch the children. Checks can be made out to Corinth Reformed Church with "Kenya Trip" on the memo line.

Prayers for our planning time and upcoming preparations, against spiritual attack, for provision not to be blocked, and for peace in the midst of the adventure of the unknown are most definitely coveted and deeply appreciated.

Ester Generation







#newcreation

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Set Apart and Changing, a new song

My first guitar was given to me by my daddy when I hurt my knee in college.  I was newly in love with modern worship songs about that same time.  My passion for learning guitar was fueled by a combination of that new love, and by rebellion against the Pharisaical drills I was forced to endure to be a classically trained musician.  (I was a music major in college...and no, I no longer have a French horn)  

I wanted the time I spent playing my sweet little guitar to be set apart, not in a legalistic way, but kind of like we set apart Thanksgiving Dinner from other dinners.  Special.  This was music for the sake of enjoying music, without the burden of drills, or proper form.   With the exception of the occasional John Denver or James Taylor song, I devoted my roughly learned chording and awkward strumming to worship songs.  Super shy me, even played "Babe" (my blue guitar) in leading worship for my tiny campus Inter Varsity group.  

Fast forward (cough, cough) 20 years.  I'm newly single and recovering from the covenant tearing that happened to my marriage.  As my heart learns once again to sing, I find Babe's replacement among my remaining belongings.  Through the magic of Facebook and the orchestration of the Body of Christ, I stumble upon a teacher who encourages creativity.  ...okay, he also encourages good form (to a point), and makes me use a pick; but somehow he beautifully avoids the Pharisaical teaching style and leaves me free to listen to the Spirit and create.  

In an email to a few friends, I excitedly wrote "...a song really came out of me.  ...a real song! (a new song)"  It's possible I am more excited about this than Geppetto was at finding out his puppet had become a real boy.

Set Apart

Tear down ...the walls of my heart
Tear down ...the walls of my heart
You are the Cornerstone
(The) only firm foundation

Ho-ly
Ho-o-o-ly
Ho-o-ly

Cast out... this fear and doubt
Cast out... this fear and doubt
Your Love is a mighty sword,
Per-fect, protecting, and 

Ho-ly
Ho-o-o-ly
Ho-o-ly

Erase... the stain of my shame
Erase... the stain of my shame
You are my righteousness
(There's) No condemnation

Ho-ly
Ho-o-o-ly
Ho-o-ly

Lord, cleanse...my soul from within
No ... more iDols or sin
Set your seal upon my heart
Let this Bride be set apart, and 

Ho-ly
Ho-o-o-ly
Ho-o-ly

Ho-o-ly, Ho-o-ly, Ho-o-ly!

I love how the word holy means literally "set apart".   I think of holy as being reverenced, special, honored, consecrated, peculiar, righteous...sacred.  Holy is what we won't ever get tired of singing after a thousand years before Christ's throne in worship.  That excites me, and makes me willing to let the Holy Spirit work in my heart to expose things unlovely in order to exchange them for things holy.

note:  When I put  "no more" idols and sin in the last verse, I do so cautiously hoping that you might not infer that the battle against sin and idolatry is over at the point of salvation.  Jesus washed us clean once, and for all time. But, part of the mystery is that the cleansing and the struggle are together and continual...much like the cat pan (ugh), the laundry, and my kitchen floor.  

I like how Pastor Bob explains it:  "I think the Bible itself and other songs wrestle with conveying either one or the other truth – sometimes in tension, sometimes alone.  We experience complete freedom from sin, yet the struggle is ongoing."   

The struggle is worth it.  I know that to be truth.  Keeping it real?  I confess, I hate and avoid the act of cleaning (cat pans, floors...and my heart - laundry isn't so bad though) even when I realize that 'clean' is so much less burdensome.  It makes me wonder when I will value restoration above the perceived effort it takes.  And yet, I don't wonder.  This song has been forming and changing my heart for at least 6 weeks as I practice the gnarly chord progression my teacher encouraged me to use.  I hope it continues to go deeper into my heart.

Monday, March 10, 2014

Rotisserie Chicken Christianity

I'm a Western Culture wimp.  My chicken comes already baked on a rotisserie in one of three flavors. I don't chop his (or her?) cute little head off.  I don't pluck each feather out-I wouldn't know where to begin.  I certainly don't know what to do with the organs. One year, I left the bag inside our Thanksgiving turkey.  I'm sure the  organs weren't fearfully and wonderfully made to function inside a little bag.  ...ugh, and what about the blood?

It's enough to make me want to go vegan.  I'm so removed from the nitty gritty work of making chicken for dinner that just the thought of what goes into it makes me lose my appetite.

In a sermon I found on You Tube, Francis Chan comments on how cute little Noah's Ark nursery decorations are.  We paint the Ark, all the animals and Noah's family - but not the hundreds of thousands of people who died.  


Sometimes I hate I'm such a visual thinker.  I hear him speak of it and I see Edvard Munch-like people lining the baseboard of the nursery...only a few hundred, though.  It is, after all, a nursery.

Do we tell our children about how all those moms, dads, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, and neighbors died in the flood?

My parents both grew up on farms.  They raised baby calves and then allowed them to be slaughtered.   I know it's redundant to call them baby calves, but they are just. SO. cute!!  They deserve an extra cute name.  Right??

See how far I am removed from the Red Fern of it all?

I watched almost every episode of Little House On The Prairie.  I read all of the books. But I lived in regular houses growing up.  Sometimes they were located near farms, but the pioneer lifestyle, and farm living is as removed from me...

...as the realization that today 100's of the people I know could spend

eternity

in hell.

Here I am reclined on my couch.  What am I doing to change that?  Will I always be a Rotisserie Chicken Christian?

I want to be a pioneer Christian.  I long to take the risks that it takes.  But I long even more for those risks to be as commonplace in my lifestyle as cutting the heads off chickens is for a farmer's wife.

Do I want it enough to change?

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Becoming Like a Child

I love it when students say  "Is your name really Ms. Little?!?  Cuz you ain't EVEN little!"   I'm not.  It's true.  I tell them I must have been born on opposite day.  (It's awesome when they accept that as a valid reason for my last name.)  I often have to consider the massive height difference when prepping lessons, creating interactive bulletin boards, or when I need to communicate to a child that I'm on their side.

Last Sunday there was a little girl who had come before the church to profess her faith and get baptized.  She was so small, standing there next to her parents and Pastor Paul.  But, as he continued to talk to us, he got down on his knees to be closer to her height.  It was beautiful.  She seemed to be a lot less nervous about being in front of a TON of adults with him literally by her side. Her faith and trust, and joy were so fresh and bright and newly evident.  How precious it was to watch her begin her journey of faith with a delight and wonder in God's Word.  Would we have seen her heart as much had Paul not brought himself physically closer to her height?  

Matthew 19:14 Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”


I want to be like Jesus in being more accessible to children.  Honoring the impact children have in our lives, and receiving their perspective as valid and important has always been one of my life values.  

A new thing for me though is in learning to become more like the children in the way I run to Jesus uninhibited.  Peter did it too on the lake, when he leaped out of the boat to run (on the water!!!) to see Jesus.

A "special" adult I've been acquainted with since college goes to my new church.  I know I haven't seen him in almost 20 years (yes, I was in college THAT long ago), but when I first ran into him at church, he grabbed my hands and exuberantly exclaimed how good it was to see me again after such a long time.  I was amazed he remembered me and thankful that God gave me a sense of respect for special people even back then.  



I sat a few seats down the row from him last week.  Worship grabbed me and my hands were mirroring  the movement in my heart as sometimes happens.  At some point in a song, this sweet man who also loves worship, grabbed my hand, and held it triumphantly in the air.  Our arms, together made a big "W".  I was definitely taken aback (ok, shocked), but am so glad I went with the flow.  I was incredibly blessed with a picture of how community is supposed to look.  My heart melted in awe as tears streamed down my face.  We were worshiping together in community, free from self protecting boundaries.  It was SO precious.

My "special" friend didn't have to become childlike to grab my hand in worship, I had to become less of a formal adult in order to receive his hand.  


I've been writing a song about being holy and set apart.  As I have grown older and have experienced harshness, I've built self protective walls in my heart that don't belong there.  I can't receive Jesus with those walls in the way.  One of my acts of worship (both in day to day living and during corporate worship), is to open my heart and allow our adoring Father remove my fears, social safety nets, and self protecting shyness.  Being Holy like Jesus, is also about being like I was when I was a lot younger and didn't know how to be shy.  I didn't know about differences in skin color, income, abilities, or government.  In doing so, I'm choosing to be "set apart" and am taking the risk of being vulnerable ...or childlike. 


I hope SO very much, that as I get older in years, I become younger and less inhibited -more childlike.  I think that's how I'll see more of Jesus.