Breaking Nets

It’s 11:25 PM, and my vacation starts tomorrow. I have to share something before I leave.

Yesterday, we had 52 kids over the age of 4 at church. In a building where the ceiling leaks and toilets don’t work, the biggest problem was the number of adults serving with kids: 7. That ratio might seem OK, until you know how many of the kids have special needs. Behavioral issues combined with immense challenges at home mean one adult for every four kids is needed, if we’re going to effectively teach them to follow Christ. Otherwise, we do our best to keep to kids calm and hope they leave feeling loved.

Tonight was mentoring, and the ratio is much lower. One or two kids per adult, in theory. Except, as always, a number of new kids walked up. A dozen students milled around, sheep without a shepherd, begging to come, asking for a mentor. One 11 year old boy asked why he couldn’t come, and I told him I didn’t have anyone to mentor him. He kept asking, and I didn’t know what to say after a while. So I told him: “This is what we do when we don’t have enough mentors. We pray, and we ask God to send more mentors. So that’s what you should do. You tell God, like you’re telling me now, that you really want a mentor. Ask God for one. He can send someone.” I have to believe that if that boy petitions God like he did me, God won’t say no.

Another boy on the church porch, a 12 year old, was a student who used to walk up, asking to stay at mentoring with friends who were in the program. I told him no sometimes, and other times, I broke the rules and accommodated him, as his friends often told me of the abuse he endures at home. We didn’t have a mentor for him, and when his friends moved, he quit coming to ask. Tonight was the first time I’ve seen him in weeks. He’s now homeless, running from an abusive environment. And yet, in a moment when he was open to help, there was no one available to talk to him. Only God knows what horrors tomorrow could bring for him.

In Luke 5, Jesus saw Simon Peter after a night of unsuccessful fishing. He told Simon to try again, to throw the nets out one more time. God sent so many fish their nets threatened to break. Sometimes, I feel like that — our nets are about to break. Simon called to his partners, and they came to the rescue, helping pull in the fish. We need your help. If you’ve got any capacity to help – serve on Sundays, mentor on Mondays, or teach on Thursdays – or you simply have a couple empty seats in your car that I can fill with kids who want to attend church on Sundays, or you can give so we can continue to offer these programs (maybe, with working bathrooms!)  – we need your help. 

Simon Peter saw God bring in a harvest he never could have done on his own, and what he experienced caused him to leave everything to follow Jesus. You can experience the same. Join us!

“Don’t be afraid; from now on you will fish for people.” – Luke 5:10

All of Me

Kids come and kids go in our neighborhood. Their families struggle to maintain stable housing, and along the way, one relationship after another is broken. A new teacher. A new neighbor. A new counselor. A new school. Sure, kids are resilient, and they can make new friends. When it happens time after time after time, however, it’s understandable the kids put up so many emotional walls to protect themselves.

Sometimes, I get a taste of their pain. There’s been a lot of that pain this month: a dozen of the kids we are the most invested in relationally have suddenly moved. Ten of them were evicted. When families tell me they are being evicted, they often don’t know where they are going. It’s a sudden, harsh change: the child had been at our church every day until that eviction notice comes. We’ve made sure they had food, fought for them to have a safer home, surrounded them with mentors, got them involved in multiple churches, and provided extracurricular activities. We’ve rallied a team to plant seeds, water the ground, and pull a bunch of weeds and just begun to see the Gospel take root in their lives.  The next day they are gone, to the unknown. Phones are cut off, and although I give the family my phone number, there is no guarantee they will be able to get in touch. We may never hear from them again.

It would be easier if I put up walls to protect my heart. Perhaps I could love kids from a distance. I could run a program, but somehow, not let them in emotionally. It would be easier if I didn’t grieve with those who grieve and rejoice with those who rejoice.

But that is not what God has called us to. Jesus became God Incarnate so he could live and dwell among those he came to save. Scripture says over and over again that Jesus had compassion on the people He came across. He didn’t simply feel sorry for the people; the biblical word suggests Jesus was so moved he felt it in his gut so strongly that it compelled him to act. It hurt Jesus to care.

All of us are faced with that same risk when we chose to love. A foster child might be taken from our home. A friend might return to an addiction. Families we’ve labored to plant countless seeds into might suddenly disappear. It will hurt.

But it will be worth it. What God does in me alone will be worth it. God will purify my motives until it’s not about the result, but it’s about serving Him. I’ll have to face my doubt and learn to trust that He finishes what He began (Philippians 1:6). When I tell kids that God promises to work all things out for their good, I better believe it myself. Trusting God’s promise in Jeremiah 29:11 for them will lead me to greater faith that he will provide and care for me.

It will hurt, to give it all away, to risk a relationship that may not last. Yet this is what God did for us. Jesus was moved by compassion to live and die for us, even though he knew many of the relationships he sacrificed for would not last. God calls his followers to live the same way. It will hurt to give it all way. It will hurt to love like Jesus. It may not be enough to mend every broken heart. But it will be worth it. God will transform me along the way, and each moment with the precious lives He created will be worth it. I may not get to enjoy this relationship as long as I would like; I may not get to see all that God does in this family. I may not get to see his baptism. I may not get to attend her graduation. But that one moment where heaven broke through was worth all of me.

Heaven brought you to this moment, it’s too wonderful to speak
You’re worth all of me, you’re worth all of me
So let me recklessly love you, even if I bleed
You’re worth all of me, you’re worth all of me

Worthy to Fail

Even as I sit down to write this post, I don’t believe I’ll do it justice. I can’t figure out how to start in a way that will adequately draw you into reading it. I’ve erased and rewritten these first few sentences so many times. Too many of them start with the word “I,” so perhaps I’m writing to glorify myself. I used a thesaurus because I was unhappy with my word choice. Maybe I should first read about how to write, so I can do it right. Really. All of that angst over this opening paragraph. (And did I really just use the word really?)

If you’ve ever struggled with feelings of inadequacy as you seek to glorify God, I want to share with you what God spoke to me today. I will not do it perfectly, but therein lies the beauty: God still counts me worthy.

In Acts 5, Luke records once instance when Peter and the apostles were arrested for speaking on God’s behalf. The high council decided to kill them, but Gamaliel convinced them not too. They flogged the apostles, told them never to speak in the name of Jesus again, and set them free. Acts 5:41 says the “apostles left the high council rejoicing that God had counted them worthy to suffer disgrace for the name of Jesus.”

I prayed for the character of Christ to be so formed in me that I would rejoice if I suffered that kind of persecution, and God began to speak to me about rejoicing over those other “disgraces” I encounter for the sake of Jesus’ name. The times when I fail. There are a lot of those. God’s standards are high, and I sin. Trying to speak on God’s behalf is tough, and I stick my foot in my mouth sometimes. I can get busy and drop the ball on important tasks. Feelings of inadequacy keep me from recruiting and leading volunteers with confidence and from challenging parents to follow Christ. Unfair criticism gets under my skin. The Enemy starts to tell me I’m incompetent, and when I believe the lie that I’m a disgrace, I stress myself out trying to be perfect. I consider quitting so maybe someone better will take over.

And then there are the times when it looks like we messed up. God has called me to engage in a battle for those the Enemy is trying to destroy, and it doesn’t always look good. On some occasions, the Enemy is having a field day in someone’s life. I’m standing there, responsible for doing something about it, and it is truly disgraceful. I look like a failure; the victory hasn’t come yet.

Here’s the life-changing truth that got a hold of me today: God counts me worthy of failing for Him. By no means do I suffer like the apostles did, but God counts me worthy of enduring some disgrace for Him! He knew before He chose me that I would mess up. He knew I wouldn’t always pray enough. He knew I wouldn’t always say the right thing. He knew I would struggle sometimes to lead and love like Jesus. He knew I wouldn’t always get every task done on time. And still, He counted me worthy!

He counts me worthy to represent Him, not just despite my mistakes, but especially in my failures. Eventually, his character will shine through. He will show me what to do, and I will repent or simply fix the mess made by human error. His power will be shown perfect in my weakness.

And sometimes, in moments when I’m especially blessed to be His chosen instrument of demonstrating grace to a broken world, He’ll count me worthy to hold a mess I didn’t create. I’ll look like a failure when I can’t quickly fix the situation. When God needs someone to handle a potentially disgraceful situation, long before the victory is revealed, in a way that ultimately brings Him honor, he might choose me. I won’t feel adequate for that task; I won’t have the right words or solutions. But now I can rejoice when faced with impossible circumstances. God counts me worthy of looking like a failure for Him, and He will ultimately win. That gives me the courage to try anything for His glory.

He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. – 2 Corinthians 12:9

I’ll do my best for my Lord and Savior. But knowing that He counts me worthy to “suffer disgrace” when I fail for His name’s sake makes my heart rejoice. God says I’m worthy to represent Him in this broken world. It doesn’t matter that I’ll never truly be good enough. No one could be, but someone has to be willing to endure those disgraces for the sake of making Jesus known. Someone has to be willing to fail forward, so that progress can be made. Will you let God count you worthy to fail for Him?

All I Want for Christmas

Christmas was a month ago. It’s been long enough for most people to take down their decorations and for the newness of gifts to wear off. Before Christmas, extra donations flowed into the church, and caring people called to ask about adopting a family to buy gifts for. It all made the Christmas events successful, and the gifts and toys helped build relationships between our leaders and neighborhood families.

But what I wanted then for Christmas was for the kids to live in safety. Safe homes, free from abuse and neglect. Safe neighborhoods and apartment complexes, free from drug deals, assaults, and murders. Safe schools, free from bullies and negativity. An extra toy would bring a little much-needed joy, but safety would bring the peace to pursue their own prosperity.

As usual, I took a group of siblings home to a nearby apartment complex tonight. The boy told me his mom said whoever drove them today needs to walk them to the apartment door. I often walk with them and agreed without hesitation. A moment later, I remembered that a stabbing had occurred at the complex the night before. It brought back memories of the last time he specifically asked me to walk with them: “The reason I want you to walk with us is because a guy died right there,” he said.

Donations make a difference. They paid for the boys’ uniform and athletic fees. They covered the costs of the girls’ activities. Donated funds allowed each kid to have a healthful meal. It got them into a safe environment with godly role models for a few hours. And gifts of toys, books, and games allow us to on occasion say “yes” when kids ask for the items they enjoy at church but lack at home. Those gifts build relationships that lead to lasting change for kids and families. Yet, Christmas is nearly a year away, and I can already tell you want I want for our kids: peace.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. – John 14:27

Never Give Up

I love watching you wrestle.

He’s a new wrestler. He had just lost his second match and was eliminated from the tournament. He hung his head until he heard what I said.

You never game up! You kept fighting. I love watching you wrestle because you never give up.

He lost by points after three tough periods. The opponent had nearly pinned him several times, but he fought his way back to his feet time and time again. By the end of the match, he was so tired he laid flat on his back for a few moments after time ran out. He had given it his all and could only pant for air. But he hadn’t given up. I loved it.

 

Kids face a lot of battles. Every day in Oklahoma, two dozen children are confirmed to be the victims of serious abuse or neglect. It’s tough to keep from being pinned by that. The Oklahoma Institute for Child Advocacy writes in its Oklahoma Kids Count 2010 Factbook:

Half of all young victims suffer either delays in their development, serious physical injury, or emotional impairments. Attachment disorders are common. School performance suffers. Children in povery, low birthweight infants, prematurely born infants, and children with disabilities, chronic illnesses or developmental delays are at high risk for abuse from their caregivers. When victims of child abuse and neglect reach adulthood, they are more likely to become ill and die prematurely. The cycle continues. Today’s victims often become tomorrow’s abusers.

We can’t give up.

So let’s not allow ourselves to get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don’t give up, or quit. Right now, therefore, every time we get the chance, let us work for the benefit of all, starting with the people closest to us in the community of faith. – Hebrews 6:9-10

Tolerance

There’s something about teaching kids character that makes me all too aware of my faults. My email about punctuality was sent late. Expensive lights were left on, and I didn’t take the initiative to tell someone about it. I forgot that we needed responsibility cards to review with kids. Yes, it’s because I have a lot to do, perhaps more than I could ever complete, but if only I were more diligent…

Thank God for his grace. Thankfully, He is forgiving and loving. He’s like the trait for the upcoming week: tolerance.

Tolerance can be a touchy subject in the church. We want to be forgiving and gracious, but we do believe it’s essential to repent and walk away from sin. Tolerance is a word is loaded with controversies. Character First defines tolerance as accepting others at different levels of maturity. It means accepting others where they are, not only when they become what we want them to be. If I can’t even tolerate someone, it’s hard to argue that I love them.

And love changes everything. Love never fails to do its work.

Do we believe that? Is love really enough?

They caught her red-handed. She broke the law. She stood before the judge. The punishment was death.

Jesus had the power to judge, but he came to save. He came to forgive. He came to love.

She had a supernatural encounter with a holy God. He told her to sin no more. She left transformed.

I want to love like that.

Treasure

A friend who faithfully serves in our kids’ church every weekend lost his home to fire this weekend. As he went from room to room, I wrote down his descriptions of all the items destroyed.

He naturally told stories as he worked, and there was seemingly unbeknownst to him a theme: how many of his possessions he had used to bless others. The collection of devotional books he shared with teens. The gizmos and magic tricks and strange objects he used to present the Gospel to kids. The medical books full of healing knowledge. The tents and knives and camping gear he used to mentor and build young men into faithful followers of Christ. It was evident from what was in his home what he treasured.

May my life, and the things I own, bless other people like his has.

“Don’t hoard treasure down here where it gets eaten by moths and corroded by rust or—worse!—stolen by burglars. Stockpile treasure in heaven, where it’s safe from moth and rust and burglars. It’s obvious, isn’t it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being.

– Matthew 6:19-21

Solving Problems

It was obvious by the time I was in junior high that I liked to fix things. I’d take apart a broken Nintendo controller and repaired it. With my grandfather by my side, teaching me from his wheelchair, I remember replacing a garbage disposal and repairing an ice maker. It’s why I worked in a research lab as a undergraduate engineering student and used algebra to work out layouts when I was employed as a graphic designer. Every problem has a solution. Last weekend, I took apart my kitchen sink and snaked the drain to remove the clog. This week, I’m contemplating taking my laptop apart to replace the broken screen. I like to fix things.

That approach works with some things in ministry. Schedules. Programs. Contact databases. Supplies. Marketing. Accounting. Budgets. That kind of thing. It doesn’t work so well with people.

For too long, I tried to fix people. It was discouraging to not get the results I wanted. God’s been teaching me to trust Him with the results. When I shared with my pastor that my passion to see lives changed was leading to frustration, she shared truth from the analogy Jesus makes when he calls Christians the salt of the earth. Salt enhances the flavor, but it does not stand alone. Too much salt ruins food. I didn’t need to fix people or the situations they face. Too much of me would ruin God’s work in their lives.

There are many problems in the world I can’t solve. I’m learning to pray, do my best to live like Christ, and trust God with the results. Join me, and let’s glorify God together!

He must become greater and greater, and I must become less and less. – John 3:30

Beautiful Things

Some days are tough. Young teens and kids have to be parents while their parents party. Eighteen year old moms need food to feed themselves and their babies. Kids hang on my arm and beg me to let them stay. Women tell me about their abusive husbands. Little kids pray for older siblings to make better choices and stay out of jail. Disabled grandparents raise someone else’s children yet are denied assistance because strangers abused a system.

Today wasn’t one of those days.

I saw her walking by the church as I returned from buying supplies. She had her schoolbooks in her arms. The bus had just dropped her off. I walked over to encourage her. She’s overcome a lot to get back into school. She missed an entire year of middle school, forced by circumstances to watch younger siblings all day, every day.

She beamed when I said I was proud of her, riding the bus so far to the alternative school, doing whatever it took to get caught up and finish school. She was on her way to the elementary school to pick up her younger siblings. She still watches them for hours every day, but now, with such joy! She has found peace and hope in an unshakable God – and she’s back in school, dreaming of college and becoming a doctor. She realizes though that she doesn’t have to wait to be an adult to make a difference for God. Right now, she’s looking for a job, wanting to help support her family and buy her young siblings Christmas presents. I wanted to encourage her; she inspired me.

I saw him just last night, as he pulled a young wrestler aside to encourage better behavior. The story of how far he has come aired on the news tonight. Knowing he wants to impact young lives is so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes.

We’re singing this song Sunday in our kids’ service. May every kid, every parent, and every volunteer leader facing difficult circumstances know God makes beautiful things out of us. He did it for me!

“I’m so glad I changed.”

We had a number of new kids begin to attend the church last week. A couple of the girls are full of attitude, not keen on listening, and quick to sneak an extra pack of cookies after I’ve told everyone there is only enough for each to have one. I was getting frustrated.

A teen whose behavior we endured in love many times saw her old self in them.

“I’m so glad I changed,” she blurted out.

“What?” the new girls asked.

“She said she’s glad that Jesus changed her life,” I explained.

“Yea, he did, and I’m glad.”

Give me a hug, girl. You are changed, and I’m glad too. 

 So let’s not allow ourselves to get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don’t give up, or quit. – Galatians 6:9