Radical Change

For no reason other than the fact that I love fresh flowers and that these particular ones happen to be gracing my desk, I share with you these spring-time flowers

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My husband and I were recently discussing the current state of our country.  Everyone is just so full of hate!  There's not even a hint of trying to understand someone else's point of view, my husband lamented.  As we sat in silence pondering this, I thought about how change for our country cannot come from an elected office.  There are too many opinions, sides, and prejudices.  If only there could be some kind of activist group that could teach people how to treat people and show them how to love, I thought.

Then it hit me.

I'm so stupid.

Of course.

There is an activist group tasked with this and it's called the Church.  But how do we radically change a nation and really get at hearts? The answer came to me simply: the church has been commanded to make disciples.  But, but, but... how will that work?

And I realized that that's just it.  We, the members of the Church, were commissioned with making disciples.  We aren't the ones winning hearts for Jesus - Jesus is winning hearts for Jesus.  We are simply called to obey and be used as His hands and feet to reach the lost and hurting and hateful.  We are to be examples, and take those people under our wing.  But more importantly, as we do this, I truly believe that it is Jesus who will radically change the nation.

To obey is our task.

Let's get to it.

Mornings and Monsters

 Life around the H house can sometimes be comical in the mornings.

Recently, I purchased activity trackers for my husband and I to wear in an effort to be more intentional about being active.  These trackers have a setting where they can evaluate how much sleep you're getting, as well as the quality of said sleep.  Further, you can set an alarm to go off so that only you can feel it (a quick buzz on the wrist), and without risk of waking up your partner.  That being said, my husband usually rolls over and to wake me when his alarm goes off.

Now that the important background information is out of the way, let's take a peak into what happened *this* morning.

We knew he had to be up and at it this morning to be at the church to meet a guy who was looking at the foundation.  --- As an aside, the church wall is sinking.  So that's fun.  But back to the story. ---  He also remarked how I was going to have a full day today given that last night he had listened as I rattled off a litany of things I wanted to do.  The point being that we both had things that needed doing, so we both needed to wake up and get going.

I despise mornings.  I force myself to wake up at a decent time, grab my coffee, spend time with the Lord, and go about my business... but I hate them.

I haven't slept well in a long while due to various aches in my joints.  This has been due more or less to pregnancy.  I often toss and turn, which means that my poor husband also hasn't been getting high quality sleep of late.  I feel bad, I really do.

This morning, I was in an odd awake-asleep-dead tired-but all too aware of my surroundings state.  My husband's alarm apparently went off.  I was aware of him getting up and leaving the room, but thought he was coming back to bed.

Then I heard his shower start.
Then I got grumpy because he didn't wake me up like he was supposed to.
Then I looked at the clock and got even grumpier.

Did he not hear me clearly last night when I told him of all that I wanted to do today???  I had to get going.

I was sorely tempted to waltz into the bathroom and tell him how disgruntled I was that he didn't wake me, when I thought better of it and marched into the kitchen to turn on my coffee pot instead.

This was God's grace on our marriage.

As I waited for my coffee to percolate, I considered climbing back under the warm comforter and starting my quiet time.  But it hit me that that might be a selfish thing to do (trust me, in this case it would have been), so I made my husband breakfast instead.

Um, that doesn't make any sense, you might be thinking.  I know, I know.  But even in my grumpy mood I didn't want to send him off to work without a hot meal.  It's been especially cold and damp this past week, so I wanted him to know I had still been thinking about him.

It was then, and only then, that I talked to him and said, "gee, thanks for waking me up this morning!  You have breakfast waiting for you when you're finished."  I assure you, it was said with a light-heartedness that I had not been feeling earlier.  He laughed and laughed when he heard my side of the story.  "I knew you hadn't slept well last night, so I was trying to let you sleep!"  "Yeah, well, I decided to love you instead of light into you.  So there's that," was my still-slightly-miffed-but-warming-to-him response.

We had a good laugh together.  I was then able to proceed with my quiet time in better spirits and a better conscience than had I done so before deciding to kill my selfish, grumpy, morning self and put him first.  I'm so thankful that I married a man who will care for his monster wife in the mornings.   She definitely doesn't deserve it.

Learning to Relate

Have you ever been thrust into a situation where you had to work among people who found it hard to relate to?  Like, really hard to relate to?

Let us take a quick look at the community in which my husband currently pastors.  Drugs are a big deal out here, which means a lot of mental problems for whole families.  There are a lot of broken families.  It is a very poor area.  Those who have hit on hard times out here have really hit on hard times.

As a way to involve myself in ministry, I agreed to teach the 1st-6th graders on Wednesday evening.  Given the size of our church (anywhere from 50-65 regular attendees on Sunday morning), I never know if kids will actually show up on Wednesdays.  I could have zero kids, or I could have six kids.  Each week is different, and there is no such thing as advance warning.

There are a couple of different crowds who tend to show up.  One consists of well-mannered, sweet brothers who are interested in learning and listening to what I have to say.  The other crowd is, to put it quite simply, not.

Let me briefly describe the background of this other set of kids.  They come from broken homes, have less than ideal living conditions, and are rough around the edges.  They would much rather play than listen to the lesson, and they have very little Bible knowledge whatsoever.

I confess, whenever I hear them outside in the church parking lot, I pray fervently for grace and lots of love to show them as I gear up for what I know is going to be the longest hour of my week.

This Wednesday, I found myself praying over and over again, "Oh, Lord, please help me love them," as I felt the frustration rising within me when I had to tell them yet again to put the stapler away and pay attention.

It's hard to love someone who isn't just like me.  It's hard to be understanding and have grace for where they're coming from if their history isn't similar enough to my own.  And yet, I am called to do hard things.  Loving those who don't look just like me is specifically something I am called to.

Matthew 4:47 says, "And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others?  Do not even the Gentiles do the same?"

That's a high standard to attain when it seems you have absolutely nothing in common with the people with whom you are interacting.  But attain it we must, for the very next verse tells us to be perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect. (vs. 48)

I come from a big family with parents who love each other and have remained married for the past 30 years.  I was taught from birth to love Jesus.  Every week, my family went to church to learn, and were then quizzed on what we learned on the car ride home.  Every.  Week.

When I have this rougher crowd in my classroom on Wednesdays, I have a really hard time relating to them.  We have practically nothing in common aside from the fact that we are all created in the image of God, and that He is gracious to all of us.  I didn't get to pick my background, family, living conditions, etc., and neither did these kids.

It is imperative to remember that we are all the same before God.  We are all sinners in need of a Savior.  We are flawed, broken members of the human race in desperate need of love.  We have very stark outward differences, but inwardly we are all the same.

And so, even if I spend my Wednesday evenings trying my hardest to get those kids to stop getting paint on the table, or to not throw bean bags at each other, this could be the most meaningful hour of my week.  They may very well not be recipients of Christ's love at home.  If I can meet them where they're at and be gracious and loving, then it is an hour well spent.

Oh, Lord, transform my heart and attitude