Oh delighful silence!

I will awaken in the morning to the delightful sound of silence. No more political ads peppering my favorite shows, interrupting my morning time...pundits will abound, but I can mute them too. I could sing a song right about now!! But that would even disturb my delightful silence.

King of the World

When I watch the news, especially in the last six months, I get the feeling all the journalists are Chicken Little, screaming, "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!"
My patience wears thin at the name-calling, back-biting, mud-slinging garbage...those who do not live in NC or the Charlotte-metro area might not be privy to the Kay Hagin/Elizabeth Dole ads. It's gettin' hot in herrrrre. I think there's an actual lawsuit involved. It's that bad.
I have been relatively dispassionate about this political season. Mostly because I do not believe that politicians hold the answers to my life or to the life of our country. I am not apathetic about the direction of our country...I will vote...I have beliefs about government's role in our lives, etc. However, I do not put my hope and trust in America, in its people, in its elected leaders.

Our sermon at church got fiery this morning. But not like you might think. Most people hear that and think that the preacher preached against sinners and talked about how they are all going to rot in the pit of hot, hot Hell. It's tragic that that's how we're perceived...we Christians. Jonathan got lathered up about what we can and should DO versus what we're not supposed to be doing. He ignited a passion in us to LOVE our enemies, rather than curse them ('cause that IS in the Bible, y'all.). He told us that SHOWING unbelievers a true love and compassion would lead them to the cross. And the cross leads to peace. We get sentimental about how "Jesus died on the cross for me." But we don't complete the sentence... "Jesus died on the cross for me...to love people, make disciples, go into the world and share the Good News, feed the poor, and be his vessel for peace and reconciliation."

Colossians 1:15-20 speaks of Jesus as our hope, our peace, our salvation...and the One who cares about the earth and its inhabitants:
15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. 16 For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him. 17 He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18 And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. 19 For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, 20 and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.

Jesus' job, and thus OUR job as his disciples is to work for reconciliation, for peace. It's not to keep a set of rules...a list of things we DON'T do that somehow make us better than those who DO. It is to replicate the life of Jesus in our everyday lives...to look for opportunities to mend, and not to divide...to make disciples who's chief agenda is not to argue why they are right, but to extend the hand of mercy to the wrong and the wronged.

I shouldn't attempt a re-preach, as Jonathan delivered this message with a holy authority that I may never attain...(LISTEN once it is posted--it's long but worth it), but I feel so relieved that I can get passionate about what TO DO. It's the Kingdom of God here, living through us, that will bring hope and salvation. In this world of war and turmoil, I was reminded of one of my favorite hymns today:

My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame, But wholly trust in Jesus’ Name.
When darkness hides His lovely face, I rest on His unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil.
On Christ the solid Rock I stand, All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
His oath, His covenant, His blood, support me in the whelming flood.
When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my Hope and Stay.
On Christ the solid Rock I stand, All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
When He shall come with trumpet sound, Oh may I then in Him be found.
Dressed in His righteousness alone, Faultless to stand before the throne.
On Christ the solid Rock I stand, All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.

Obama and McCain did not come to save me or America. They are subject to the only King. In Him I trust.

The Gift that Skipped a Generation

I suffer from a very real syndrome. "Jack-of-all-trades, but master of none." I can do a little of everything, but am just not fantastic at any one thing. The one gift that I definitely DIDN'T get even a small dose of is cooking. It saddens me. I mean, I like to EAT. I can follow directions very well. I have a heritage of good cooks on both sides. What happened??

I have a particularly affected issue with the cooking. I can make something three times very well, and somewhere between my fourth to sixth time attempting a dish, something falls apart. After numerous quality quiches, I mucked the last two up, and my normally not picky at all husband wants no part of quiche now. I have a long history of tasty enchiladas, but the last batch tasted like they were seasoned with roadside weeds. There was an odd bitter taste. Then, there was the great broccoli cheese soup I ruined. The Tall One is very gracious and usually eats these tragic concoctions.

Much to my dismay, I get confident about a recipe and attempt to make it for "company." This attempt usually ends in culinary crashing and burning. My most notable crash and burn was making breakfast for 10 at a recent retreat. Easy things like biscuits and eggs went down the tubes. Breakfast is usually something I can whip up blindfolded!

Sometimes my own creativity gets the better of me. I think because I've watched a few minutes of a cooking show, I can throw in a dash of this or that to enhance the flavor. It's my particular sickness in general, trying to figure out ways to fix or enhance or change everything I see. I've been known to fix hand-written grocery store signs with my own Sharpie when I see a misspelling. Sadly, with my audience of mostly one Tall eater, I've about run through my recipe box with a virtual chainsaw. I presented another bland and uninteresting Chicken Marsala last night...thus ending my quest for homemade Chicken Marsala. I will retire it. Pretty soon, I think we will just be eating cereal for every meal.

Here are the recipes that I have effectively marked off:

1. Beef Stroganoff--there was an incident with my deciding that Dijon mustard would be a good addition. Wrong.

2. Chicken Marsala--can't get the chicken to brown before I add the saucy stuff...keep ending up with a mushy mess in the pan. And blandness.

3. Quiche--of all types. Not sure what happened here. Made about 10 successfully, with the exception of the one where I tried the fake, healthier eggs. Fake and healthy usually tastes bad.

4. Beef Enchiladas--didn't have my green chilies, tried to make a substitution. Very bad results.

5. Broccoli Cheese soup--over salted, over cheesed...icky gooey ickyness

Like most bachelors, I can make you some spaghetti! My roasts are fairly consistent too. Both of these dishes have avoided my cooking curse. Come on over. If you dare.

What I learn in class...Storytime with Shelley

The first eight years of my full-time working life I spent at a mega-church, working with prison outreach, sports/recreation, missions, and youth (mostly youth). It's amazing how out of touch you can get with real people working at a church. Not that our congregants were fake, but we were all sorta similar...mostly white, evangelical, middle-to-upper class, etc. I know that I was living in my calling, so I don't diminish where I was or what I was up to for those years.
Three years ago, though, I knew it was time to move on...first from the job itself on staff, but a few months later...from the church itself, as Jonathan and Amanda were starting a new church (Renovatus--and their new fancy website, BTW). Both decisions have been life-altering. (read like...the whole blog for some of that info.)
But today's Storytime with Shelley is about my friends at York Technical College. Night classes. Digital Design. Rock Hill.
Though I work at a mid-major university, and can take FREE classes here...the program I am interested in is computer/graphic design. Winthrop's program is geared toward art and a four-year degree, so I opted for the local tech school. The schedule and certificate program better fit my life.
I have so enjoyed the sheer diversity. At age 33, I am often on the younger side of my classmates. The older ones are there mostly because they need more training to be employable and times are tough. They have kids, sometimes grown children, full-time jobs, and major set-backs in life. Like Fred.
Fred's design work was mediocre at best...but he always had something to say with it. He fueled his passion for politics (he's a Libertarian) through his art. Even his bank logo was a soapbox. I loved Fred, with his ever-present Fedora and love for Fellini films. Fred's dad was never around, and his mom was...well, from what I can gather a paid "escort." Fred is on wife number 6 and has children all over the U.S. Fred has a soft heart and has lead a rough life. After a year in classes with him, I got to know him pretty well. Sometime over the summer, Fred disappeared. Rumor had it he up and moved to Virginia in the middle of the semester. I miss Fred.
My nature is to walk in, sit at the computer, and be absorbed in my own work. I have learned to stop, to help, to take advice, and to listen. I have been truly frustrated by my own lack of skills and knowledge, and have depended on classmates and teachers to get me past the point of wanting to throw a monitor across the room. We're all in it together...young and old, talented and not-so-much talented...trying to fuel our artistic sides and one day perhaps our wallets. It is fascinating to see how many different interpretations you get with the same assignment. I love my night class people. They have taught me so much about life and art.

Guest Blogging

I am a guest blogger...kinda like a guest star, just with less pay! I am involved in a Christmas production this year called "The Birth." We're in our third year, and this will be my second year to be involved.

Click here to read my guest blog. Apparently, not only am I a co-conspirator, I'm also inimitable! (that is, according to Nathan Rouse, the incomparable writer/director/performer)

Click here to buy your tickets...it's not too early! We'd love to pack it out with our Charlotte-area family and friends!! Make it a night out in Plaza-Midwood! Or make a trip from wherever you live.

It's not too early to start thinking about Christmas. Big box stores have had their junk out for weeks now. Fight back by supporting your local artists!

~The Inimitable Shelley Jones

What our country needs most...accountability

Oy vey. I'm up to my ears in political rhetoric these days. Not only the Presidential hotbed, but being in a "border-town," I'm getting all the North Carolina ads every 30 seconds. I live in South Carolina. I don't care about "Wasteful Walter Dalton" or crazy Kay Hagin. I'm tempted to DVR EVERYTHING I MIGHT WANT TO WATCH over the next three weeks and zoom through the mud slinging commercials.
So, a political post? Yeah. I feel the need. I got fired up watching the debate the other night. I have no desire to discuss the merits of either candidate...as I really don't think either one really has a total package. I have chosen my candidate, and we'll leave well enough alone. What fired me up was the discussion on education. I'm not an educator, but I am surrounded by them...my own husband and family members, and then I do work at a university that is the foremost teaching training school in South Carolina...
I hear the candidates talk about competition and vouchers, and I think they're missing the boat altogether. What our schools need is a huge dose of ACCOUNTABILITY...not only for teachers, but also for STUDENTS and PARENTS and ADMINISTRATORS.
We wonder why our students don't measure up to the rest of the world? We have baseline expectations for them, that's why. Just pass 'em through. No Child Left Behind grades schools on a variety of factors, one of them being attendance. Low-performing schools will do anything they can to receive a "good grade" on any part of this scorecard. So, often times, children who should be suspended for consistently deplorable behavior get to come to school and continue to disrupt classrooms so they are counted in the attendance. Students who sit in class and do NO WORK are passed if they "show improvement," because we need to move the students along...why? To increase the grade on the scorecard. And the teachers who fight with said students all year to get them to behave or to write something besides their names on an assignment are to blame? (can you hear me screaming now?)
I have lived through these scenarios. Parents today are quick to believe their children over teachers. People, teachers do not get paid enough to have time to hold a personal grudge against a child. They really aren't singling the kid out. They really don't have time to concoct bad behaviors and frame your child for classroom "crimes." Our society of "me and mine" has infected our classrooms. Richy rich parents want a completely customized educational experience, in which their children are appropriately challenged, but not so much that the child cannot make an "A" without studying. Parents on the other end of the socio-economic spectrum are just trying to get by, and often don't have the time or money to assist with their student's education. A call to the greater good would be in order for all of us. There are more children than just one in a classroom. Ideals of community have been lost on us over the past 30 years. A crippling selfishness is hurting all of us. These kids who disrupt have been enabled by parents who cut others off in traffic because they're in a hurry or yell at a store clerk for making a small mistake.
Better reforms in the educational system would be to hold administrators accountable for provided relevant teacher training, instead of throwing something together to check it off their list. Hold administrators accountable for disciplining unruly students, despite what it might mean for the school report card. Hold teachers accountable for teaching and interacting with students, for creating an environment in which students can learn HOW to learn, instead of how to pass a standardized test. Curious students will fuel a good school. Hold parents accountable for reinforcing good habits at home and make participation in their child's education inevitable. Reach out to parents who don't have resources...feed hungry students and provide real-world support. Let's learn some lessons about living peaceably together in community...about not lashing out when things don't go our way. While I'm at it...a National Standardized Test would give us benchmarks to see where we need to pick up the pace, or whose educational practices are working.
It's complicated, I know. Inspiring hard work and instilling discipline are more difficult than lowering expectations and a turning blind eye to bad behavior. If there's one thing I know about people, though, we really do like clearly defined parameters. We really do want to live up to expectations of others in a healthy way. We really do want to succeed if we're encouraged. We are selfish by nature, but in order to have a healthy society, we need to put some thought into how we can service the collective community through education. And I'm off to see if I can practice what I preach.

Into the woods.

When I go to the woods, I begin to wonder if I could just stay. I mean, I want to stay. But could I make it? I have these moments when I indulge a crazy-wonder about moving to the middle of nowhere and becoming hermit-like. When the world keeps spinning so fast and furious, the politicians are slinging mud, the stock market is bottoming out, family members are losing retirement money, deadlines are looming, demands are increasing, and days just aren't long enough...I long for the rhythm of the woods. The fading light of sunset, the crickets and frogs, and yes, even owls...delightful. I love waking up to the sound of a stream versus the scream of my alarm clock. And need I mention the fact that comfortable shoes are the norm here?

Some pics from our weekend in the woods...

Penny Sue Price...or...Patience has a Price

I sit next to a lady named Penny Sue Price in my photoshop class. I knew better. There were so many seats I could have chosen. But there I sat, and as you know, wherever you land on the first day is usually where you end up...otherwise you upset the cosmic seating arrangement balance. Plus, you can create a folder on the desktop and store stuff there.
But Penny Sue might have been worth a move. Or maybe I'm supposed to be sitting there. The Lord likes to teach me lessons about myself and my pride and my ignorance through Penny Sues. Penny Sue is older, and most everything about the computer confounds her in general. She blames it for losing her files, for crashing (when it hasn't), and for myriad other things that it can't do by itself. She mutters constantly and blurts out questions during lecture...questions that make no sense. Even when she addresses a question directly to me, I usually have to ask her 12 questions to understand how she got to where she is in her problem. Sometimes I think we don't speak the same language. As I hurriedly try to refresh my brain for a quiz in the next class, she chats it up with me about solar power and her car payment...and the way she talks always makes me feel like I was dropped into the middle of the conversation and have no idea what she's talking about.
Basically, I don't understand how she got to this class with few computer and social skills. But I am starting to admire her tenacity. I would not have stayed. From what I can gather, up 'til now, the class may as well have been being taught in Chinese, because opening a new file is a challenge for her...and we are chugging along at a pretty good clip. She continues. She asks questions. She struggles, but she stays.
All of this to say, at first, I thought I'd continue to sit by Penny Sue because it would be a good thing to teach me some patience, and be another step in getting over myself. I am learning, however, that as I continue to see the less fortunate as "projects," I will never really get over myself. Julia reminded us last night to live from our HEARTS, not our MINDS. My heart needs to learn to love as Christ loved...and he loves ME in all my ignorance about the way HIS operating system runs. When I doubt whether he has lost my files or has crashed my life...I am Penny Sue. He continues to be patient with me and to love me and to show me that I am not his project; I am his beloved. I cannot conceive that He doesn't get frustrated with my ignorance and inability to learn simple lessons the first eight times He teaches me. But he doesn't. He is gentle and loving. And the more time I spend with Him, the more I become gentle and loving...less prideful, as though I have something besides His love to offer Penny Sue. That's ALL I have, humbly, together with His patience, as we both learn how to photoshop. Stay tuned.

Compassion, Justice, Jesus

So, I totally stole this video from Michelle Wheeler's blog (thanks!)...but it was too stirring not to post. How do we serve the poor and neglected in our everyday lives? Whether we're in cities, burbs, or countryside...there must be a way.

This video was shot entirely on a cell phone.
It won the Tropfest, NY 2008 Film Festival.
Click for link (I couldn't get it to upload!!) It's just amazing and poetic and beautiful.

For more, our Pastor spoke about this very topic on Sunday: link to study notes or link to web page for podcast.
How can I make this a way of life and not just a random, occasional act?

Who?

Mystery solved. We now know "who?" Last year, our pond was violated and fish disappeared...(see post and picture). A series of events just unfolded, and we have discovered the culprit. He visited a few weeks back...sitting boldly in our yard, staring at us...then staring at our precious fishes. He sat on the kennel fence just feet away for almost an hour, daring us in a way. I kept having visions of him flying toward my hair. Even when he flew away, he settled on a high branch overlooking the pond...his presumed sushi buffet. We covered the pond with a screen and other sundry items to keep him at bay. But we felt optimistic, and uncovered it...putting the plants back in, and hoping the coverage would be enough.

He returned last Thursday and picked off the slowest fish...my favorite, Otis. The other fish were traumatized and would not come to the surface for days, even for food. Screen now firmly in place for good.
Jerod sat by the fire pit Saturday night, and heard a "crumpet" behind him (his word, not mine). The pesky bird ninja had landed on the top of the shed, looking for another free meal. Not this time, silent flier. It was easy to feel bold watching him from the inside. But I'm quite sure the owl was as interested in the fish as he was my hair and eyes. Freaky, I tell you.
As we all sat around the fire making our s'mores, he teased us from the darkness of the woodsbehindourhouse..."WHO?" I know who. We captured you in action, you ninja bird of darkness. Stay away from our fishes.

Click for more photos.

Dream a Little Dream...

I had a wee dreamlet last night. I was walking down a sidewalk and the Lord said to me to rest in His grace, to trust in His provision...and as I did, I began to fairly float, as if gravity had no hold on me and the walking was not remotely difficult. It was such a light and lovely feeling, not to be hostage to gravity and striving. Then, I went to church, and Margaret Gaines expressed some of the same ideas...and I felt like I was floating again. It felt like my natural state, as if I were finally doing what I was supposed to be doing...that the walking was weird and the floating was normal.

No sooner...

...do I pray for Holy interruptions, and I get one in the same week! Dear Friend stopped by to drop off some items for a yard sale...gets offered some of our dinner...sits down to eat a few bites before her next event...And ends up encouraging and ministering to us for hours. We were all knocked off our plans to go to a party, clean out a closet, and vegetate on a sofa. Praise God for people who question and listen and grasp tightly to a beautiful, simple faith. Praise God for community, even spontaneous community. And Praise God for country fried steak to share.

Embarrassing Moment

Sheila dared us to write out our most embarrassing moment on our blog and post them to HER blog...ugh. This would have to be it:

When I was working in youth ministry a few years back, it took A LOT to embarrass me. I really have very little shame, and would regularly sacrifice my reputation to keep attention, get a laugh, or make a point. I've even sat in a dunking booth for a good cause...in other words it takes a mountain-sized embarrassment to make me wish for a hole to open up and swallow me whole.

We had just finished up a video scavenger hunt with dozens of students...running around town, capturing THEIR embarrassing moments on video...making them sing songs about vegetables in the produce section of a grocery store, paint fingernails of complete strangers...with bonus points if they could find a guy who would let them paint fingers and toes...you get it. Embarrassment was in the air.
We were enjoying a quick trip to the local Dairy Queen before heading back to church, all of us lined up, laughing, and salivating over impending butterfinger blizzards.
Aaron Yancey (who was a student then) came up behind me and put his hands over my eyes, just goofing around. Being ever the dramatic person, I started saying in some affected accent, "Oh, I can't see...I'm blind...who could it be? I'm blind! I'm blind!" and generally carrying on. I wasn't being particularly loud, but it was loud enough for the couple in front of me to hear.
I knew something was amiss when a hush fell over the entire DQ, and Aaron uncovered my eyes. I was disoriented. Everyone was staring at me...
...including the husband directly in front of me in line. He shook his head at me. ("WHAT'S GOING ON?" I wondered.) It was then I noticed his wife had a blind cane in front of her, and his hand was on her elbow to steady her.
Honestly, I had NOT seen here there, and would NEVER, EVER make fun of someone for a physical impairment. It was a nauseous coincidence.
Needless to say, it was awkward in there for a few minutes. I was speechless. The teenagers were staring at me like I had slapped Jesus in the face. That's what it felt like...I really did want the earth to open beneath me and take me once and for all.

Why I am surprised?

When my day gets rearranged and things seem to fall in place as if by divine intervention...why am I always surprised? God just loves to interrupt me and "my business" and usually leaves a blessing behind like a calling card. And I have a sneaky suspicion it's just because he loves me. I shall leave the door open for him to come and go as he pleases. If he chooses to disguise himself as an interruption or potential irritant in my carefully-wrought agenda, I will breathe deeply and know that my life should be ruled be the Spirit and not by the clock. I humbly submit this proclamation in faith, that my dependence may bring far more for the Kingdom than my usual routine. I shudder to think what might happen next. But I need to be free from the suffocation and restraint of Time and Duty.

The List of Craig

I've been trolling craigslist.org this week hunting for a nice desk. We are rearranging the office space at the house and in need of something smaller. I hadn't found just the right thing at any regular retail outlets, so a few times a day, I'd hit up the online exchange.

What I learned:

The man selling the farmhouse table (which I thought might make a nice computer table) was showing MORE THAN A TABLE. I flagged him and his...well...and the nice people at craigslist promptly removed his posting. Bizarre.

There are words in the English language that completely confound the average joe looking to unload some extra furniture. A sampling:

1. Fruniture for sell--not just a typo, it repeated several times
2. Not selling seperately--Jerod tells me to remember it has "a rat" in it--separately
3. Serious injuries only--YIKES! Fruniture is danjerous.
4. Must sale today--sell, sale, sail--they are different words with different meanings
5. Chabby chic--Chubby Checker, Charlie Chaplin, Shabby Chic
6. Armour--or armoire, it's French, they get a pass
7. Non smocking home--good thing, I hate it when people smock
8. Rod Iron--half pass, as "wrought" is odd, and iron can be rod-like
9. Chester Drawers--had a friend named Chester, didn't know anything about his drawers.

And then...the "Executive Desk Hooker." Upon further inspection, "hooker" is a brand name of nice desks...but I'm fairly sure that wasn't the best headline.

The Anchor Holds

What are Christian mime troupes to do? Ray Boltz, an absolute STAPLE in the cheesy Christian drama genre and a blessing to many...has come out of the closet. The man who brought us "Than You," (which I may have sung to my pastor when I was about 14 for an offeratory), "Watch the Lamb" (which I may have had to learn an entire "routine" to with dowel rods at a drama seminar--oh my), and "The Anchor Holds" (which blesses my dad unlike any song I've ever seen)...is gay.

Click here for story.

This issue is one that Christians must face. How do we LOVE homosexuals in the church? We have not done a good job with it thus far. It seems far more noble to love other people that we label "sinners." This is such a complicated issue, and it seems to be going nowhere. I have dear friends who have been vibrant servants of the Lord, who later come out of the closet in a flurry of confusion and condemnation. Some have embraced the gay lifestyle and have defended their Christianity. One such friend even has a ministry to gay Christians, after he came out in seminary. Another friend has undergone counseling, and felt compelled to reject the lifestyle and embrace the Lord's help in living a heterosexual life with a wife and child. Homosexuality is pervasive in our media unlike never before. If we call it "sin," we are labeled bigots--uncaring, uneducated homophobes. If we call it ok, we are not being true to God's word and laws. Unlike any other issue, I think it is impossible to "win" here. We aren't going to get anywhere by condemning people (have we LEARNED THAT YET???). We aren't going to get anywhere by trying to change people--hello. That's God's job. The simplistic response to an increasingly complex issue is to love them into Jesus' presence. Let Jesus do what He does. We should be responsible for extending God's love, without arguing or condoning. "What if they don't get fixed?" What if...it's God's responsibility to heal people who are in pain or deception? I still wrestle with these questions. I have friends who TRULY wrestle with these questions. What else can I do but love them?

Mishaps in Church

Yesterday's service was a little wacky for me, with my view from the "slide show." I make the media presentations for church each week...patching together some photos, videos, words to songs, and scriptures to make a visual worship experience. Usually, we have a service with very few hiccups.

Then sometimes, things get a little hairy.

Our guest worship leader got lost in Charlotte before service, so the house band was hastily pulling out some oldy-goldies, which put me typing in some songs just before service began. Fast typing, distractions, questions, and confusion leads to songs like this showing up on the screen:

(for context...this was at the particularly serious altar call time)



'I love You, Lord...And I lift my voice...to worship You, Oh my soul rejoice...

Take joy my King...in what You hear...Let it be a sweet, sweet sound...IN YOUR EYE"



I noticed it just before we got there. Behind me, I hear Nathan say, "EYE?" I look over to see Iris and Richard dissolved in giggles. (Iris had to leave service she was laughing so hard). With our new, fancy media program, I can edit without anyone noticing. I debated for a second, and swiftly changed the words for the next run-through to read, "In your ear."



Talk about holy laughter.


Pictured: traditional "God's Eye" art common to Mexican Indians.

Quick Funny

I was getting some online help from Apple yesterday by chatting with a customer service person. My main question was about having more RAM or more hard drive space...RAM is the answer in case you're wondering. I mentioned getting an additional external hard drive. He then reminded me that we should always back up our files on eternal hard drives.
At which point I asked him if I could download directly to God's brain?
How WOULD one retrieve those files?

Lizard Adventures

Sometimes oh so serious, the blog. It's my stopping off place to slow down and gather my thoughts about this life. But today, just a snippet of funny, as my life is so often hilarious...those little moments where you wish someone had captured you on video just so you could re-watch it and laugh again.
My morning routine includes coffee on the sofa, Good Morning America, and putting on make-up while I warm up to the idea of wakefulness. Tink, the Boston Terrier, is usually curled up beside me taking her first nap of the day. Last Friday, however, I was startled to see my green blanket sprout legs and start walking. There was wee little lizard keeping company with me on the sofa. Being the same color as my green throw, I had not seen him.
"Oh crap! Jerod is not here! What am I going to do with this lizard?"
First thoughts run toward just pretending I don't see him at all. Then I imagine him crawling into my sheets and greeting me in the night. That won't work.
Jerod can just pick up a lizard with his bare hands. I cannot do this. I coached myself into believing I could, but when the lizard ran over my fingertips I came as close as I ever have to fainting. I know. It's silly. I know.
I thought to perhaps trap him in a can with a lid previously used for hot chocolate and release him outside. He was having no part of that scheme.
I dried my hair.
Lizard's still in the den.
Ironed my pants.
Lizard is now on my shoe. SHOE! I will carry him outside on my shoe.
Nope. No go.
Tink has yet to bat an eye at me, and is snoozing soundly. Too bad she didn't have it in her to chase him for me! She should be good for something besides napping.
It's now or never. The lizard must go. I need to get to work.
I chased him to the kitchen door! He went behind. Lizard is visibly panting with fear. I feel badly. He does not know that I mean him no harm. I just do not cohabitate with reptiles. He runs up the side, and around to the inside. "RUN OUTSIDE, STUPID LIZARD! YOU ARE SECONDS AWAY FROM FREEDOM!" I was actually talking to him by this point. Telling him it was ok, soothing him, and coaxing him like a puppy. "Come on. You can do it. The outside is nice. You will like it here."
He flew to Jerod's giant black flip-flop. BINGO! Just a foot away from the outside now. And score! Wee lizard is on his merry way with a colossal story to tell his own lizard friends about the crazy lady who chased him tried to trap him in a cocoa can.

Revival in the Land

I am forever thankful for my upbringing in Pentecostal/Charismatic circles. I was exposed to the ideas that God is alive, moving, and present in our lives. I have experienced His power, His guidance, and His grace in amazing ways. I have sung to the highest rafter, hands lifted high, and heart aflame.

I have also watched as Jim Bakker, Jimmy Swaggart, Larry Lea, Richard Roberts, Fred Price, Creflo Dollar, Robert Tilton, Ted Haggard...and now Todd Bentley...have fallen off pedestals because of egregious hidden sin and lies. There could be many more names on the list, as almost everyone I know who has grown up in this movement has a local man (or woman) to add to the list.

The Pentecostal-flavored Christian faith is not at its core flawed. It is one that embraces the third member of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit, as "the spirit that guides us into all truth" (to quote Jesus in John 16:13). We recognize that our power to encourage, worship, correct, admonish, administer, minister, help, plant churches, and prophesy can only come through an active and vibrant relationship with the entire Trinity, and that the Holy Spirit is our power to walk out the Christian faith. It's not "added zest or zeal" as my Pastor reminds, but a real, living and integral part of our relationship with God.

I read a letter today that has peaked my interest. Dutch Sheets http://www.dutchsheets.org/index.cfm has written a letter about the recent downfall of heralded revivalist Todd Bentley of the Florida Outpouring in Lakeland, Florida. Of the many fine points he makes, one of them is the need for actual INTEGRITY among our ranks...(and I would add from the top to the bottom, as it were). So many in our movement follow the show, the big bang-boom-ba, and then blame the show on the Holy Spirit. Most of us know that with the right music and the right smooth-tongued preacher, it is fairly easy to get people worked into a frenzy. Sadly, I think most of the Spirit-chasers have hearts for God in the right place. I think many are seeking to know Him more and to be full of His Holy Spirit. But we have to keep our eyes on the LORD. We have to be discerning. We have to walk into all situations with our ear attuned the STILL, SMALL VOICE of God as much as it is attuned to the yelling and histrionics of some on a stage.

In short, we also have to have our own personal revival of the heart, that comes not in fireworks and parades, and full bands with forty-hundred singers; but in times of meditation on the Word, study, prayer, and reflection...and dare I say...fasting. The Holy Spirit can be present in the quiet. He can teach and heal in a bedroom, a boardroom, or a grocery store. There is no magic or incantation that "calls Him up" when several hundred people get together and have a hoe-down. The Lord desires to be worshipped in Spirit and IN TRUTH. When we are walking in the TRUTH, our worship will be sweet to the Lord, whether we are in a stadium or in a corner of our guest bedroom all alone. The Lord is always looking to "pour out His Spirit" on those who are seeking His heart.

Pastor Sheets makes another fine point. We have all of this focus on being "restoring" ministries or ministries for broken people...certainly!! The church at large must be in the business of restoration. But the other side of the SAME COIN requires us to be accountable and responsible to our community of believers DURING THE PROCESS OF SALVATION AND SANCTIFICATION!!!!! During, not after the tumble. There should be a reasonable expectation of integrity among our leaders. These few examples and countless other leaders have cut themselves off from anyone who will correct them or bring them under spiritual authority. They have shunned true community, and therefore have shunned the power of the BODY of Christ. They have spit in the face of the church, the body that God placed on earth to help us all in our journey. These ideas are the very backbone of the real Christian faith.

I am saddened that Sheets did not voice his concerns earlier. Many people seemingly have been uneasy, but have been hesitant to say anything. Paul would have called it out. He did this regularly in Scriptures when churches were off-kilter or false teachers were spewing lies. We are so afraid to offend sometimes or to squelch a work of the Spirit. We should be more afraid that shysters and unrepentant, unbroken sinners are leading the church into confusion and disarray.

As a body of believers worldwide, we must now more than ever seek the quiet place, where the Lord can speak TRUTH to us through his Word and by his Spirit so we can see our own failings first, and then we can discern the truth of world around us.

I am not pointing fingers. I, too, must submit myself to my own body of believers. I have to make time and space for the Lord to speak. I have to be on guard for heresy and ideas that will crumble my faith. I have, in the past, cut myself off and indulged in a life free from accountability. I thank God that His grace and mercy extends over us, and that He walks us through times when we are stupid. I am thankful for the cross and the atonement. I am hopeful that Spirit-chasers will get tackled by the Spirit and wrestled into a grace-filled, deep relationship with the triune God and will stop looking for hype and highs. Can't we learn from all of this??