How to Have the Perfect Life...

Sometimes God's plans go against what man thinks is "common sense." My ways are higher than your ways. That whole idea. And when we follow what God calls us to do, we get criticized. Even by those who understand that God calls for out of the ordinary.

My marrying Gary was one of them. In fact, my dating Gary was one of them, too. He was different from me. We were both strong Christians and seeking what the Lord had, but he was different. I laughed...all the time. And, well, he didnt. I was all smiles, carefree and fun. And he was serious. I was young and he was older. I hadnt ever dated anyone and he had. I was just entering college and he was graduated with a full time job and his masters in view. These differences made our decision to pursue a relationship seem unwise and careless to many.

When we first started dating, I had person after person give me what they thought were helpful comments. Everything from people he knew telling me what his struggles were, to telling me I would be wise to stay away, to telling me I need to be careful with this relationship... Everyone thought they knew him best. And decided to tell me so. But the more I got to know him, the less he resembled all those things people told me. He laughed and he made me laugh. He created fun and I had more fun when I was with him. He was out of the box and goofy and wild and hilarious... But none of those people knew him enough to see beyond his front. And so they told me how they saw him, how he "really" was.

It made dating so difficult for me. I had sleepless nights and lonely afternoons were I pondered what they had said and wondered what I was doing. But time and again, God's Spirit spoke to me, deep called unto deep. And I knew that I was supposed to be with him.

Then we broke up. And when I did, the comments I got were along the lines of, "I knew you two wouldnt last. Because I know him and I know you, and I just knew it wouldnt work." I was never sure how to take that or react to it. But still, I knew God had a plan for us. We got back together, got engaged, and tied the knot. All along the way, we were criticized. People told us horror stories of being married. They told us how different we were and how the road would be so hard for us. They told us everything you would never think your basic Christian community would tell you. And through it all, we prayed.

I think thats the only thing that kept me going. I heard the voice of God speaking loud and clear, and I had to make a solid decision that His voice was stronger than theirs. 

The road hasnt been easy. It hasnt been all cherries and rainbows. But I am more in love with Gary now than I have ever been. And I have more confidence every day that I am where God is calling me. Not many people can say that.

Despite the comments and the criticism, the stories and the "advice," I am in the perfect place. I have the perfect life. Because right now, this is the life God has created me to live. And as long as I follow His voice, I can truly say my life is perfect. Its perfect for me.

...

Lesson for today: Some people are so lost, and so hurting... Like George Sodini. It makes my heart break for not reaching outside myself more often.

Life Giving Power...

This is my first post in a long time. Almost a year, actually. Once I left Prison Fellowship and went back to school, there was little to write about. Sitting in classes and writing papers is significantly less exciting for me to write about than ministering to men and women in prison. But that's just me.

Since then, I've graduated, gotten married, and started a new job. Im part administrative assistant, part creative technology...person for my home church. I dont really have a title, so I tell it different every time someone asks.

So now that life has settled down a bit and I am in an environment where things happen that make me want to write - Im writing again.

One of the big things I have realized while being on a church staff is that people have a tendency to criticize. Myself included for sure. The first time that someone came into my office to criticize me (though Im sure they wouldnt use that word to describe what they were doing), I didnt know how to handle it. I dont have the toughest skin around. So I called my dad, pretty upset. And he told me a truth that I have thought of a lot since then: 

95% of people will think what you are doing is great, but they wont ever say a thing. 5% of people will disagree with what you are doing, and they will say something every time.

As Ive thought over this principle, I see how true it is. When I disagree with how someone does something, Im the first one to criticize. I rarely say it out loud, and to them, but I will think it. And...in confession...Ill tell my husband much of the time. But when I think someone is doing a great job, its almost as if I think, Theyve got it covered. No need to comment. Pretty backwards. Especially for a body of believers.

People need encouragement. They need it. And we are responsible for building them up by the words we choose to speak. "Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones." Words have life giving power. Life. Giving. Power. Get that?

Life.

Giving.

Power.

...

Lesson for Today: Delta Sonic deals with 4 million cars a year and spaghetti sauce bacteria can ruin a trunk. Or so I was told.

Into Prison...

On Saturday, 9 of the Prison Fellowship interns went to the James River Correctional Center near Richmond, VA. At security level 2 (out of 6), this prison was filled with men who were on their way out. Reentry was, on average, less than 7 years away for the majority of men housed here. It was our privelege to be able to attend classes with the men who are involved with Prison Fellowship's reentry program at the site.

The reentry program consists of classes 5 days a week (Monday-Thursday, Saturday morning) where the men learn basic life skills needed to survive on the outside. But all of the skills they learn are based upon biblical principles.

When we first arrived, we got a tour of the grounds. As we stood in front of one of the buildings and the guide went on about the number, race, and average crime of the men in the facility, my focus fell from her to the men playing basketball behind her. Her voice faded into the Charlie Brown's teacher type, and I watched them competing on the court. They were playing like any other guys, anywhere else. I thought of my fiancé, who was, at that exact moment, doing exactly the same thing these men were doing. He was playing in a different state, with different men; probably with a better ball, on a better court, and most likely, making more of his shots than these men I was watching. But there was no real difference between them and him when it came right down to it. They are just as "normal" as he is, men just like him. And it gave me an intensely personal view of the prisoners standing in front of me. I thought about their wives and their kids, their lives before prison. And somehow, in the midst of all this thinking, the barbed wire behind them disappeared, the uniform clothing faded away, and they were just men having fun with a ball and a hoop.

After the tour, we joined the men in the program half way through their Saturday morning class. Don Coleman was the guest speaker, focusing on three things: the Kingdom of God (characterized by righteousness, peace, and the joy of the Spirit), humility, and maintaining healthy relationships. Once we joined them, he started talking about race relations, as every one of the men in the program were black, and all the interns, save one, were not. He talked about the need for prayer, the need to provoke Christians past the church and into the Kingdom of God, the need to accept our differences, embrace them even, and still live in community... He was a convincing speaker, in that controversial kind of way.

I think the most powerful part of his lesson was not what he said. It was not what he brought to us in word, or the power of his language, or the persuasion in his voice. It wasnt the yelling, the calling us out, the righteously judging. It was, quite simply, his ushering in of the Spirit.

Yes, what he said made me think. Hard. But the power was brought in through the Presence of the Almighty God entering into that room in a way no one could rightfully ignore or deny. And it is solely because of that Presence that the next part of our visit was as powerful as it was.

Once Pastor Coleman finished, he left, and we stayed in the room with the men as he was brought to the gate and let out. Within minutes, the room was booming with... conversation. Yep, thats it. Just conversation. Nothing special. Just your every day, friendly conversation. Each of us had turned to each other and struck up a topic.

But take a step back, and you can see how powerful it was. You can see how impossible it would have been outside the realm of God's Presence within that room. Heres the picture: 8-10 black men: all dressed alike in their light blue collared shirt and denim pants, labeled with the term "prisoner", sitting inside a classroom with a metal detector right outside the door, and thick barbed wire running outside each window. 9 college students: majority of them white, most never having been inside a prison, seeing the bars and barbed wire that they are by no means used to. And suddenly, each start talking to each other, one on one, like they had known each other long enough to be completely comfortable. Within minutes.

Not something you see every day.

I talked to Mr. Holmes (within the program, everyone is referred to respectfully by their last name). He was 23 years old, in prison for drugs. With just a little over a year left in his sentence, we talked about his plans. His dream is to get a college education in computer science, and to counsel kids in a similar situation he was in before going to prison. He told me of how he grew up in a family with a very strict mother who cared about him. But he fell into peer pressure, and tried to please people any way he could. He told me of his fear when he first entered the prison walls as a 21 year old, told me of his cousin that he is afraid will do the same thing, told me of his determination to make a real life when he gets out. He told me of his fear of public speaking and his intense discomfort in front of people; and he told me of his dreams and visions of God using him in front of groups of people to tell his story and the power of Christ. Through it all, I could see the power Christ had brought to his life. The change Christ had brought.

We were able to finish up the morning by praying with the men: us for them, them for us, all of us for each other. And then we said goodbye. And as I walked out, I knew the face of Mr. Holmes would stay with me. The same way all the other faces do. Andy from my first prison visit in high school. Hope from the prison near school. Richard and Jose and Menor from the prisons in Costa Rica. The faces of precious friends who have made my life better as they passed through. Because they showed me firsthand the power of the God of change.

...

Lesson for Today: A lot of foods you can get sick of pretty easily. Like PBJ sandwiches, peaches, salad. If eaten enough over a small amount of time, it gets pretty old. But some foods will never fit that category. And over the summer, Ive decided pancakes belong on that list.

Oh, and Bran cereal with strawberries is probably one of the best things youll eat - ever.

Real Beauty...

At work today, I was listening to a webinar on marketing. One of the examples they used as pretty successful was the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty. Interested, I checked it out.

Its pretty cool. The whole campaign is centered around teaching young girls what real beauty is. Real beauty is not what we see every day on billboards, in magazines, and on tv. Real beauty is you.

They have a self esteem zone with tools, videos, quizzes, and all sorts of other interactions that help teach young girls how to see themselves in a better light. It also has a lot of focus on the role that moms and mentors play in the development of a girl's healthy self image.

Its nothing profound, I guess. Or maybe it is. But I thought it was worth talking about, at any rate, because this stuff is real life. Not a used to be, but a now. Not an over there, but a right here. Not a minor deal, but a huge problem facing every young girl (and older women, too) in America and across the world.

Fighting a problem with truth.

(Also of note are the Dove films on the site. Evolution is particularly capturing.)

...

Lesson for Today: Peaches can be cateogrized as cling, no cling, or semi cling. Who knew?

Dance in White Dresses...

I am reminded today of how the world hurts. How our generation hurts.

Our friends who laugh with us at lunch are crying to die at night. People we pass on the street with it all put together are falling apart as soon as they find isolation. Everywhere. Some of us live in too much of a protected shield, myself included, to realize how deep and widespread the pain is. Its time to open our eyes.

I did research today on the non-profit organization, To Write Love on Her Arms. The story that began this ministry is a powerful one. The video that explains it a little better can be found at the bottom of their website. (On the group's facebook page, you can see an interview of Renee two years after becoming sober.) But if you are only going to take one action after reading this, read the full story here.

Basic recap: Renee was hurting. She was suicidal, addicted to drugs, an alcoholic, and was cutting herself. She was denied entry into a rehab center because she was deemed "too great a risk."

Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her. She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds.

Sent back onto the streets, a group of Christians took her in, helped her get control for a few days, and then brought her back to rehab where she became clean.

As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope." I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars."

Renee found hope. She found God's power of change. If there is one thing Im learning this summer, its of God's ultimate, all consuming power that brings life change. To prisoners, to the depressed, and to the hurting.

The best part of the story came at the end. He writes of the hope and grace Renee found in Jesus.

We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses.

Tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. Rarely have I heard a statement filled with such hope, such purpose. We all were made to dance in white dresses. To dance in joy before our King, for his pleasure and his glory. The broken, the confused, the hurting. The down trodden, the weak, the victims. But you know who else was made to dance in white dresses? The murderers, the victimizers, the pain inflicters. When they seek forgiveness, their garb changes from rags to robes. That is the power of Jesus.

I think the power of such a statement comes in revealing to a young girl who cant see living past today, who cant think past the hurt, who has been abused and taken advantage of, that she was made, made, to dance in white dresses...

But not only the hurting need to hear that. Those who are living "normal," "satisfied" lives need to hear it too. Because too often the complacency leads to sitting on the sidelines, refusing, by default, to dance before our King.

Another story that hit home the point was Josh Hamilton's testimony of how he left behind a life of drugs to become the MLB player he is today. Attributing it all to the power of the God of Change, he writes:

I prayed to be spared another day of guilt and depression and addiction. I couldn't continue living the life of a crack addict, and I couldn't stop, either. It was a horrible downward spiral that I had to pull out of, or die. I lay there -- in a hot and dirty trailer in the North Carolina countryside, in a stranger's house, in the cab of my pickup -- and prayed the Lord would take me away from the nightmare my life had become. How am I here? I can only shrug and say, "It's a God thing." It's the only possible explanation. I got better for one reason: I surrendered. Instead of asking to be bailed out, instead of making deals with God by saying, "If you get me out of this mess, I'll stop doing what I'm doing." I asked for help. I wouldn't do that before.

We know God is love. We know God is grace. We know God is powerful and mighty, patient and kind. But do we know God is change? Change for our broken lives, change for our complacency. Change for the ruts we thought wed never escape. Change for the cycles we thought would always go on.

...

Lesson for Today: You know those embarassingly awkward situations that are minor and yet so horrible? Like someone catching you singing when you thought you were alone, or calling someone by another name only to realize it after the 15th time? Ya, leave those alone. Let it go, cut your losses. The attempt to fix them usually just results in further embarassment...