Like so many women that day, she took the little girl's hand and help her pick out the school supplies she'd need for the coming year. They carefully selected folders and notebooks, discussed whether skinny or fat markers would be best, and made thoughtful decisions at each of the different tables where we had set out supplies for free distribution to all kids who came.
Though scenes like this were repeated hundreds of times that afternoon, this one stood out. That's because of what had happened during the six weeks prior.
Each Sunday since the first of the "Back to School" fliers arrived, she came to church carrying a bag with a few school supplies to donate to the cause. And in the end she both gave and received about the same amount of materials.
But she didn't know how much she would receive when she stated to give. And though she really didn't have the money to both buy supplies for her own girl and to give supplies to the drive at the church, she had enough faith to be a part of the giving and humility to accept that which she received.
Her courage showed me how to take a solid Kingdom stance amid a "me first" world. And her simple acts of giving as blessed and receiving as blessing reminded me of the power and the possibility that comes when generosity is a two-way street.
May I live likewise.
Thy Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.
Showing posts with label Kingdom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kingdom. Show all posts
Monday, March 28, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Not
When I first heard the call to step out on the streets in ministry God and I had a lot of conversations about it.
One of us was calm. The other one was me.
I remember one of the conversations quite distinctly. In it, I panic-strickenly listed all the things I was afraid of. I had come up with an exhaustive list that I found quite impressive.
It wasn't so much what He said in His typically brief reply but the way He said it.
Fear NOT.
It was the same reply given so many times in the scriptures. But this time it was different.
In my mind I've always translated that statement into "Do not be afraid." That may be accurate from the Hebrew and Greek, but getting me to dismiss my fears didn't seem to be His goal.
Wrapped up in those two words was a new translation which sounded more like this:
Fear NOT stepping out.
Fear NOT heeding the call.
Fear NOT going places that scare you.
Fear NOT doing this.
And it wasn't about eternal salvation or worldly punishment or somehow losing out on God's love; that is way outside the nature of God and would have just reflected even more of my personal insecurities.
Instead it was more a call to recognizing that the safe, clean, predictable, stable life I'd built was, in reality, a much scarier place than the full, deep, rich, abundant land that He's promised.
He never discounted my impressive list of fears. In fact, as the conversation wound down I felt like if had I not recognized the very real fears it would have been a bigger problem than my listing them for Him.
The earth-sized fears I could see were real. The heaven-sized Fear NOT provided a counterbalance.
And strangely, in that tension between fear and Fear NOT there is peace. It seems to me counterintuitive, but there it is ---- that peace that passes understanding.
Yes, in our conversations One was calm. By the end, the other was moving that way.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, lest we miss Thy kingdom's goal.
One of us was calm. The other one was me.
I remember one of the conversations quite distinctly. In it, I panic-strickenly listed all the things I was afraid of. I had come up with an exhaustive list that I found quite impressive.
It wasn't so much what He said in His typically brief reply but the way He said it.
Fear NOT.
It was the same reply given so many times in the scriptures. But this time it was different.
In my mind I've always translated that statement into "Do not be afraid." That may be accurate from the Hebrew and Greek, but getting me to dismiss my fears didn't seem to be His goal.
Wrapped up in those two words was a new translation which sounded more like this:
Fear NOT stepping out.
Fear NOT heeding the call.
Fear NOT going places that scare you.
Fear NOT doing this.
And it wasn't about eternal salvation or worldly punishment or somehow losing out on God's love; that is way outside the nature of God and would have just reflected even more of my personal insecurities.
Instead it was more a call to recognizing that the safe, clean, predictable, stable life I'd built was, in reality, a much scarier place than the full, deep, rich, abundant land that He's promised.
He never discounted my impressive list of fears. In fact, as the conversation wound down I felt like if had I not recognized the very real fears it would have been a bigger problem than my listing them for Him.
The earth-sized fears I could see were real. The heaven-sized Fear NOT provided a counterbalance.
And strangely, in that tension between fear and Fear NOT there is peace. It seems to me counterintuitive, but there it is ---- that peace that passes understanding.
Yes, in our conversations One was calm. By the end, the other was moving that way.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, lest we miss Thy kingdom's goal.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Cause
The gold, low-riding, tricked out Cadillac pulled up in front of the school. Both front doors opened and two massive young men got out of the front seat simultaneously. Each was adorned in high-end gang apparel and a variety of gold jewelry. The tough anger on their faces caused everyone to pause.
One opened the back door of the car while the other reached his hand inside to assist the lady in exiting the vehicle.
She had a fresh hairdo and was dressed to the nines. As she emerged it was clear that both men were rendered helpless by the mesmerizing power she held over them.
The sheer delight on her face captivated the rest of us as she slowly walked into the school with one man on each arm. The man on her left let go only long enough to open the school door. He then took her frail hand as she laboriously navigated the step up and in.
As they waited with her in line to vote, she started a conversation with a couple of her friends who had gotten to the polls a few minutes before her. The two friends said they would wait for her afterward. With great dignity, they hobbled along with their canes toward a few chairs along the wall.
The three women sat together and visited quietly while keeping an eye out as for who had made it to the polls. Just a glance into their eyes told quite a story.
For those eyes had seen lynchings. And those feet that now needed a cane had marched. The arms that had been supported to reach the polls had been linked together in solidarity in standing for justice. They'd sat at the lunch counters and in the front of the bus. They knew what fire hoses and police dogs and night sticks could do. That day they remembered what they had been through and marked some of the fruits of their sufferings.
The men who had driven her hadn't voted. They loitered in a corner. If they even hinted at being impatient or wanting get back to their other dealings, one brief look shot across the room from her put an immediate end to it.
When I look at my role in building His kingdom of righteousness, peace, and joy, I'd like to say that I'm like one of those elderly women. Truthfully, though, I must confess my solidarity is more often with the men who were with her.
I don't clearly see or understand or begin to appreciate the sacrifices and suffering that have made it possible to fulfill my calling in His work. Be it the saints of old or people who currently give beyond their means to make sure that I have a salary, it's often lost on me.
Plus I know that there are material and emotional benefits if I deal only in the portions of the Gospel that are the opiate of the masses rather than getting fully engaged in the cause of Peaceable Kingdom. It's easier to surround myself with material possessions that show my status to others (though mostly to convince myself of my own worth) rather than to go through the hardships it takes to bring worth and dignity and justice to others.
And if I can't get my head and heart lined up around these things, how can I possibly even begin to pretend to understand the cross?
But once in a while I hear the Story again. And as I do I'm reminded that His work is not just something from the past or for the future but is for the here and now.
So I have a choice each day. I can treat Him with respect and honor. It may be a bit inconvenient and I might get impatient but for it I'll be blessed. Or, I can pay the price of joining with Him in the task of building His kingdom in the here and now. The cause is His. The choice is mine.
Your cause be mine, great Lord divine.
Your aim be my ambition:
For wasted is my greatest strength
Unless it find expression
In love the gives itself away,
In life responsive to obey
The terms of Your commission. (Bryan Jeffery Leach)
One opened the back door of the car while the other reached his hand inside to assist the lady in exiting the vehicle.
She had a fresh hairdo and was dressed to the nines. As she emerged it was clear that both men were rendered helpless by the mesmerizing power she held over them.
The sheer delight on her face captivated the rest of us as she slowly walked into the school with one man on each arm. The man on her left let go only long enough to open the school door. He then took her frail hand as she laboriously navigated the step up and in.
As they waited with her in line to vote, she started a conversation with a couple of her friends who had gotten to the polls a few minutes before her. The two friends said they would wait for her afterward. With great dignity, they hobbled along with their canes toward a few chairs along the wall.
The three women sat together and visited quietly while keeping an eye out as for who had made it to the polls. Just a glance into their eyes told quite a story.
For those eyes had seen lynchings. And those feet that now needed a cane had marched. The arms that had been supported to reach the polls had been linked together in solidarity in standing for justice. They'd sat at the lunch counters and in the front of the bus. They knew what fire hoses and police dogs and night sticks could do. That day they remembered what they had been through and marked some of the fruits of their sufferings.
The men who had driven her hadn't voted. They loitered in a corner. If they even hinted at being impatient or wanting get back to their other dealings, one brief look shot across the room from her put an immediate end to it.
When I look at my role in building His kingdom of righteousness, peace, and joy, I'd like to say that I'm like one of those elderly women. Truthfully, though, I must confess my solidarity is more often with the men who were with her.
I don't clearly see or understand or begin to appreciate the sacrifices and suffering that have made it possible to fulfill my calling in His work. Be it the saints of old or people who currently give beyond their means to make sure that I have a salary, it's often lost on me.
Plus I know that there are material and emotional benefits if I deal only in the portions of the Gospel that are the opiate of the masses rather than getting fully engaged in the cause of Peaceable Kingdom. It's easier to surround myself with material possessions that show my status to others (though mostly to convince myself of my own worth) rather than to go through the hardships it takes to bring worth and dignity and justice to others.
And if I can't get my head and heart lined up around these things, how can I possibly even begin to pretend to understand the cross?
But once in a while I hear the Story again. And as I do I'm reminded that His work is not just something from the past or for the future but is for the here and now.
So I have a choice each day. I can treat Him with respect and honor. It may be a bit inconvenient and I might get impatient but for it I'll be blessed. Or, I can pay the price of joining with Him in the task of building His kingdom in the here and now. The cause is His. The choice is mine.
Your cause be mine, great Lord divine.
Your aim be my ambition:
For wasted is my greatest strength
Unless it find expression
In love the gives itself away,
In life responsive to obey
The terms of Your commission. (Bryan Jeffery Leach)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)