The Perfect Solution

Tonight I went to a banquet fundraiser for a pro-life women’s center. It was round tables set with fresh flowers and little sonogram decorations all around. I was amazed and so grateful to attend. This center makes a huge impact in their community and touches thousands of girls every year. They literally save lives by calling women to choose life instead of abortion. 

But I could not help to think of my tiny center on my side of town. As I ate my chocolate cake I sat there thinking of the girls I have talked with over the years. The young, black teenage girl scared to face the truth of pregnancy, the tears streaming down her face as I tell her of the news that will change her life forever. She sits in shock as I try to walk her through the steps of pregnancy. There is so much more I wish I could offer her, both financially and and in care, but really in that moment all that will ease her heart is the love of Jesus. I can give her my fancy pamphlets of statistics and  sign her up for classes on prenatal care, but at the end of the day what she needs most is an encounter with her Creator. He is the real strength she needs to get through her “crisis” and my role is to be a conduit of that love. 

So I celebrate the successes of saving babies and changing lives forever, but I do it remembering that Jesus must be the focal point of the life movement. He is enough for me and my little center. Even if I never have fancy banquets or extensive programs, I can still offer hope, faith and love. I can still be a voice declaring His kindness in forgiveness for all. And of His food and drink that lasts forever. And for that I am thankful.

Time to write

Recently I was encouraged to “write my own stuff”. It made me think of this blog. I have been incredibly unfaithful in blogging. I want to start writing articles, rather than just snippets from my life, although snippets can be interesting. But I would like to develop ideas, concepts and theological topics. 

I am in the  middle of auditing my first class at the Forerunner School of Ministry, entitled The Theology of Justice. The premiss is mainly to address the current social justice movement in the context of what the Bible declares about justice. I have had a few moments of shock, as my teacher has laid to waste large social change movements, stating them as unbiblical. 

There will be more to come, as I try to discover the truth of what real justice is, and our role in it.

Tree

There is a small tree in my bedroom. It sits in a pot on top of a pretty plant stand. Only one side of it seems to grown because I have always had it next to a wall. I have had this same plant for some years, which means this tree has survived more moves than any foliage should have to experience. It has always resided in my room, but for the last six months it has sat right next to my bed, so sometimes when I wake up it is the first thing I see in the morning. Somehow this brings me comfort; like an old friend who has traveled the seasons of life with you, right there living alongside you.

A few weeks ago my dear friend started getting new branches. To my knowledge this has never happened. New leaves, sure, but never new entire branches. (I must clarify that I am not the best plant owner and forget to water it for weeks at a time. So there’s been a few times I thought my tree was a goner, by the pile of leaves sitting on the floor around her base.) I must admit the new branches look a bit awkward: shooting out randomly and curling at the ends.

I have often wondered if my tree has out grown its pot because I hear this happens to plants. Once I even had my friend, a great plant lover, come inspect her roots in fear that she needed more space. But he assured me that the plant seemed to be doing just fine. It also boggles my mind that my plant does not need much sunlight. Over the years she has had long stretches of sitting far away from any windows, yet has managed to survive.

Lately, I can’t help but feel like this tree points to my internal heart. That just as my plant goes through seasons of abundance and new beginnings, so my soul comes to find itself wrapped in a new day. Right now does not feel so new, but I still wonder if perhaps I am on the brink of bursts of fresh perspective. Even though I feel like everything will be the same and I am standing still, I must believe I am on a journey towards new life. I guess when the dying seems real and painful inside, the living feels distant. The shedding of old things is like the shedding of old leaves: it makes a place for fresh leaves to grow. So I must believe that right around the corner is my time to bring forth new branches. Until then I will lean into Christ and allow Him to form the space for new life to come forth.

Clocking Out

Some of the most glorious times I have spent with the Lord are the times when I sneak away from my daily responsibilities just to be with Him. There is something so romantic and special about “stealing away” with God. Granted, He still comes to me in the mornings when I am not escaping the pressure of meetings, emails and work, but I have always loved those extra moments.

I guess what I really value more than the extra hour or so of time, is the movement in my heart that gets me back to His feet; when I feel the ache and the “I just miss Him” feeling in my chest. I LOVE when I experience this because it reminds me that I’m alive and need God’s love above anything else. 

Anyways, I had one of “those” moments today. I was in between meetings, stressed about my long list of things to do and bummed I had not gotten my morning time with God. So I decided to head into the prayer room, even if it was only for an hour and the room was packed with folks as anxious as I, to hear Misty play again. 

Highlights from my “stolen time”:

-She sang “Come into Your Garden” (a very special song between me and the Lord)

- God spoke an incredibly loving rebuke that my heart seriously needed!! 

- I was able to sit on the floor, bawl my eyes out and forget about everything else but Him. 

My hour came to an end so fast and I was tempted to ditch my meeting, but pulled myself back into real time. I am so glad God is about quality over quantity and really can do a deep work in a short amount of human “time”. He exists outside of our reality, so I get that my time segments are of no real consequence to Him. 

I know I promised to write about my 21 day consecration, but I will soon! Life got in the way and when I sat down to blog, other things came out. I plan to get to it soon and write a more substantial post, so stay tuned…

Unexpected Gift

Today I had quite the adventure! About a month ago I was hired to substitute teach at a local public school district, but didn’t get around to actually teaching until today. It was a half day and fit into my schedule, so I registered online to take the high school class. I was unsure of what subject I would be teaching because it was titled “life skills” online.

I was nervous about my first day and praying that I would have a good experience. High school kids can be intimidating and I wanted to be assertive. Well, when I arrived to the classroom I was surprised to discover it was a special ed class. The teacher quickly explained about the different kids in her class and told me about a few medical issues some of the kids have, including seizures that cause blocked airways (um that sounds scary). At this point my nerves just increased, but there were three nurses assigned to specific students in the class and they seemed to handle things amazingly. Before the teacher left she told me they would be doing most of the work and I was just there as a support. I sighed a sigh of relief.

But then two of the nurses announced they were leaving only an hour into my first day. “What, you are leaving me??” I thought. They left a few other assistants, but all nurses were leaving the room. I made friends with one of the students and we spent most of the time working on a puzzle. There was a medical glitch, which I inadvertently caused with him, but it was smoothed out. I was amazed at how much these kids won my heart in only a few hours. They were so sweet, helpful and open. One student emailed his mom at work and when I asked him what he was going to write in the email, he looked up and said, “you.” I watched him type out the short email and he wrote to his mom that I was “cool”. I imagined that his mom must love him so much and I realized how blessed these families must feel to have such sweet kids in their lives. As I talked with these students and interacted with them for the few hours I was in their day, I was struck with the simplicity of how wonderful it feels to just be yourself. These kids are fully who they are with no insecurity and it made me jealous to do the same.

All in all, I could not have asked for a better first day of subbing. When one of the assistance discovered it was my first job ever substitute teaching she said, “wow, I can’t believe you got us!! I bet you won’t ever want to come back!”.

But she could not have been more wrong. 

What a Bargain!

Just returned from a short trip to Springfield, Missouri. It was my last benefit fair for my Dad’s company this year. I get to sit at a booth and inform employees all about their amazing eye care and why our company is the best. It’s easy to do, but after the 167th person arrives to my table and wants to know why they should choose us, I withhold my desire to say, “because I said so,” and give the bullet point explanation one more time. 

I had a few interesting moments while dinning in the town of Springfield. I must preface the story with the fact that while on business trips my company pays for all my meals, so it’s nice not to have to order water and crackers to save on cash. So, I was ordering dinner at Panera from a nice young lady last night. I told her I wanted a bread bowl and apple chicken salad. “Do you want the pick two?” she asked me. “Nope, I want a big salad,” I replied. “What side would you like with that?” “Chips.” “What side would you like with that?” “Uhhh, I get two?” She shook her head yes.

At this point I knew I couldn’t muster the idea of one more starchy side, so I opted for dessert. “Can I get a cookie?” “Well, I can give you one,” she said hesitantly. “I can pay extra for it,” I said excitedly. (really I can, I have an alloted source of funds here, lady). “No, it’s ok. I can just give you one.” This is when she proceeded to try and give me a day-old, free cookie. 

I then went to Quizno Subs for lunch today. (I have a hard time there because all the sandwiches are so extreme…turkey, swiss, bacon, ranch or bacon, ham, cheddar. Just give me one meat and one cheese please!!) So, I asked for a turkey sandwich. The lady behind the counter asked if I wanted cheddar cheese. “No, swiss please,” I responded.

Then after noticing some of the other sandwich descriptions I said, “Can I please have guacamole on that?” She looked at me with hesitation. I’m confused now because I know they make it, but she is refusing to put it on my sandwich.  ”I can pay extra for it,” I say for the second time in 24 hours. “No, I will just give you a little bit,” she replied, as she gave me a small amount. 

At this point I gave up and allowed her to give me a little “free” guacamole. It was comical and a bit odd that I was trying to convince these people to let me pay for my requests. Never had a consumer met such opposition in an attempt to spend some extra funds. 

On a separate note I drove past a life-size nativity scene right in front of a McDonalds restaurant on my way out of town. It was painted, wooden figurines and the best part was that someone had painted the word “Jesus” over the top of the manger with the baby laying in it. Just incase someone was unsure who the star of the story really was….priceless really. (I attempted a quick pic from my phone, but I was too far away)

Stay tuned for more in depth blogging. I want to write about being presently minded about the age to come. I’m in the middle of a 21-day intensive about this very subject. I really want to love God with my whole mind and I find my biggest enemy is thinking upon the future in this life ALL the time. I promise to post tomorrow so check back!

Invasion of the Season

Yesterday I suggested to my sister that we spend an afternoon at a homey coffee shop loaded with wireless internet and great espresso. She needed to write a paper and I to edit some Mike Bickle notes for an upcoming project. I thought this was the perfect venue for such work because every visit I had made to It’s A Grind in the past had been so peaceful and quiet. The place was always empty of chit-chat and filled with the most comfy, overstuffed chairs.

So after lugging my poor sister Shanon around town running errands for three hours (in which I proceeded an embarrassing attempt to return a Walmart cookie sheet to Target…“ahem, this is not in our system Ma’am”. Woops!) we ended up in great need of caffeine and time to sit and gaze deeply into the beauty of our iBooks.

What greeted us inside the lovely coffee shop was not the library meets Ikea meets Starbucks meets a log cabin; the perfect combination for relaxation and education, but a jolly, old Santa Clause. Apparently this afternoon (and this afternoon only) Santa had diverted his sleigh and stopped in for a much needed pick me up in the form of a peppermint mocha-bark latte, while also making himself available for a photo shoot with children of all ages. Our cool hangout had been converted into a Christmas photo center complete with crying infants, stuffy nosed little girls with enormous red bows on their heads, little boys standing right in the middle of any place I was attempting to walk, and teenage boys trying to squeeze onto the lap of a poor, old man.

Every few minuets my sister would shift her gaze from her pretty, white Mac over to me and give me an evil eye and long blinks. We sat there for a good hour, fighting to focus on anything but our surroundings and then gave up. I think it was the tambourine in Santa’s hand that finally took her over the edge. 

Making our way back to our nice, little home we realized the festive spirit had somehow rubbed off onto our single, unattached little hearts. That is when the decorating began, along with numerous accidents caused by yours truly. (I blame the short, soy hazelnut latte.)

We descended into our ginormous basement to unearth our Christmas décor and while gathering boxes I dropped and shattered a glass spice-scented candle. Total bummer. But we proceeded to begin setting out all our little knickknacks around the living room without it and this is when I realized one of the wise men had been decapitated. He was in need of some serious prayer and super glue if he was going to “represent” in this years nativity. So I ran to grab the super glue. I opened the lid and glue immediately dripped onto my sister desk, in which I was given the painful split decision of running for a towel, in which I risked the glue drying forever or sacrificing myself by wiping it up with my fingers. I opted for the later and now have dried super glue coating three of my fingers. But the desk holds no evidence of any glue, thank you very much. The rest of the Christmas adornment went smoothly, minus me burning my thumb in an attempt to light a three-wick holiday candle.

I will now leave you with a few photos. Today I finally broke down and bought new shoelaces for my favorite shoes. I bought these in San Francisco for nine bucks at a sidewalk sale. I love them so much. Two years ago a friend and her six-month-old German Sheppard puppy stayed with me for a few days. We left the dog alone for a few hours and came back to discover that she had gotten to my closet and snacked on several of my shoes. I was keeping my cool until I discovered my Cons!! Anything but them. Thankfully they were repairable and I have used the same chewed-up laces ever since. But today I bought some new ones. They look pretty silly all white and bright on my old, beat-up shoes. My mother thinks I should retire the green tennies, but I refuse to concede: they were my mode of transportation for two years in San Francisco and remind me of the city girl I once was and still am deep down on the inside.

My old laces were falling apart...

So white!

 

 

Hello World!!

I’m back!!! Lately I have dearly missed blogging. I realized a subconscious pressure has been pressing upon me to only capture the spiritual aspect of my life through Fly Away. This pushed me away from writing as an outlet because I imagined only profound revelation or inspiring truth should be posted. But really my life is more organic and unpretentious then that. I love Jesus and He is incredibly special to me, but I also live in a cute house in the middle of the Midwest enjoying a simple life. I am blessed and so thankful for this part of the journey. Never in a million years would I have believed someone, had they told me I would live in Kansas City, work for a ministry and spend my mornings in a prayer room. It was a supernatural shift in my path and today I am so thankful for the chance I had to escape the frivolous city life I led to hide away and wait for God.

So now I will begin again to capture my life on a page….  

Sanctification

My swollen eyes are the only visible evidence of my broken heart. Apparently tears are the best portal in which the pain of the past can escape and find release. I was not sure my pain went so deep, but if the never ending streams pouring down my face point to my faint heart, then my emotions are rising to the surface from somewhere hidden inside.

Sanctification is such a big word and so easily misdirected. I am a huge fan of Paul the Apostle and his writings speak to this often. I understand the goal of sanctification; I must be dead to self and alive in Christ. Death. Total and complete crucified self. While at the same time total and complete newness in Christ alone. Sanctification without transformation, through the Holy Spirit, is morbid. It must be supernatural and based on the gift of the cross for us to succeed. Many an unbeliever has tried to walk out the Sermon on the Mount, only to fail miserably or to tire of keeping to rules and right deeds. But real sanctification is lead by God and done only through the power of the cross. But how is the big question. How does one go about dieing to self and giving up old patterns of thinking and behavior? How do I stop doing what I hate to do and begin doing only what my spirit desires? This is where I was lost. This is where I entered into striving and working to be godly. I was trying to change me and was failing miserably.

What I am coming to realize is that the way we enter through the gate of sanctification is separate from works. Let me break it down as I see it. All people are broken. Humans are entirely good at hurting each other and reacting to pain through bitterness. We encounter subliminal expectations and unspoken patterns of living in our childhood. We learn how to feel or how not to feel. We understand what love is and what it is not. But all these lessons are being learned through the fallen, selfish lens of a child. And all these prescriptions for life are be taught by parents and family members who are themselves broken and far from perfect. So we grow up and at some point decide to let God love us and choose to enter into the narrow way, where we walk this journey with Christ. But there is a huge issue. We are still broken. We subconsciously have assigned the Trinity to be just like our mother, father, siblings or friends. We keep Him from transforming our hearts because He is held at arms length because we don’t really trust Him, we don’t really believe He is for us and we don’t really believe He is a good God. So we wrestle to perform, to run the race with endurance and to become more like Jesus. Yet all the while we are broken and in need of fixing. Or are we?

God is not interested in fixing me. Or making me really healthy. Or teaching me how to be the best me I can be. I am not a broken lawnmower, needing a fix so I can work properly, as to be of use in the Kingdom. Nope, I am not a worker or a servant. I am a daughter. But a broken daughter is not very easy to love or love through. So she must die. All the roots of selfishness and bitterness must be uprooted and thrown into the fire. Her bad fruit reflects her bad roots and these must be taken to the Cross. Now, she does have some good fruit: sparkles of the love and kindness of Jesus alive insider her soul. Those roots are healthy and planted in the knowledge of God. They must stay and be nourished through the Word of God. But goal is to be totally alive in this and complete dead to the self rooted in pain. When I can up root the lies I believe and the judgments I have made against God, myself and others I am actually crucifying the old man. The truth sets me free and gives way for more intimacy with God. As I repent of my wrong understandings, bring them to the cross and say yes to forgiving, I in turn am sanctifying my soul.

The only way to walk in true sanctification is to be healed. The only way to healing is through forgiveness and freedom from the past. Instead of walking along the journey just trying to forget the past, we actually must go back to those places and allow God to heal our heart through confession, repentance, and renouncing of sin. If you can tell, I am right in the beginnings of this process. I have decided to say “yes” to sanctification apart from just trying to stare at God and hope that He fixes me. In other words, in order for me to see God rightly, which allows my to receive His love fully, I have to change the way I see the past. Then I can start to see Christ like He really is, a Man fighting for me fully. So I cry a ton and feel the pain of my past and let God walk me through healing. Everyone has their stories, their personal wounds from childhood, and most of us walk around with them stuffed deep down inside. But healing must be had and restoration can come. I don’t have to keep trying to strive for freedom because the cross made the way in totality. We can die to our flesh through healing. Wow. And here all this time I thought dieing involved struggle and perfection. But it is only when He is made perfect in us that we can really become born again.

An Unpopular Perspective (edited version)

I tend to be pretty uninterested in political opinion and the such. I think most people having itching ears and are longing for someone to appease their appetites of selfish gain by telling them what they want to hear. The promises, commitments and vows politicians make pre-election are mostly empty and usually motivated out of a desire to be liked. Very few men and women involved in politics have pure motivation and that is because most politicians are wicked. Granted, we are all full of deceit and only Christ in us can be looked at as pure and righteous, so humanity is pretty broken in general. Which leaves me disillusioned by my country’s political system. Serving the people with selfish motivation is still considered living for yourself and Jesus was pretty clear about what that does to the human heart.

I think we as Christians can get so caught up in judging those we vote for, come November, that we forget to judge ourselves. Why do we so passionately stand for certain economic or social issues? Why do we get angry about those who fight for the opposite of what we believe to be “right”? I think it comes down to our cultural influences of living for today. When we are living for our betterment in this age, we will indeed be swept up into the politics of the day. It will consume us because we are in it for how it affects our lives and our futures.

Jesus did not live for his own future. He was not concerned with financial stability or gas prices. He was looking towards another age and consumed with being about His Father’s business. He was busy laying up treasures in heaven by keeping His heart in constant communion with the Spirit. He asks us to do the same. The Bible says we are pilgrims and strangers in this land, whose home and maker is God. Our true homeland is the place where God’s Kingdom has full reign and where we will live under the Theocracy of Jesus.

I  challenge you to reexamine your motivation behind your political views. Is it about you and your betterment? Or righteousness?

The only thing I have really come to stand for when it comes to politics is life. I will always be concerned with the unborn because it’s personal. We should all be given the chance to life, even if is it under really hard circumstances. I know we are called to stand for righteousness and voting is a mode that allows us to this. Some of the other aspects to my political views are about me and motivated out of my own interests. But I will continue to wrestle with how I can cast a vote that does not come out of my own desire to lay up treasures on earth. Here is a quote from a book that is challenging me to live from the inside out. Motive matters most; not behavior.

“When, at the time of a General or local Election, we are called on to make a choice of candidates, do we find ourselves believing that one political point of view is altogether right and the other altogether wrong? If we do, I suggest we are somehow or another laying up for ourselves treasures on earth. If we say that the truth is altogether on one side or the other, then if we analyze our motives we shall discover it is because we are either protecting something or anxious to have something. Another good way of testing ourselves is to ask ourselves quite simply and honestly why we hold our particular views. What is our real interest? What is our motive? What, when we are quite honest and truthful with ourselves, is really at the back of these particular political views that we hold? It is a most illuminating question if we really honest. I suggest that most people will find if they face that question quite honestly, that there are some treasures upon earth about which they are concerned, and in which they are interested.” – Studies in the Sermon on the Mount by Martyn Lloyd-Jones