Sometimes church just [infuriates] me [edited]...

Ha! Got your attention didn't I!  Funny how everyone loves a good church bashing session!

Sorry to dissappoint.  Stick with me though - you're already here so what's the harm?  

I watched something last night that literally broke my heart. I've spent the last few years praying for the heart of God - the ability to see people and situations though the eyes of the Father and not just how I'd see them in my fast-paced human life. Every now and then I get that privilege and last night was one of those glimpses. 

 

Last night, on TV, I watched the heart of God and the feet of Jesus take in a handful of kids that were homeless because they chose to leave their family church. The heart of God said call us mom and dad. I'll be beside you at the hospital.  I'll help you get back on your feet. I'll teach you to drive.  I'll create a place that you belong. I'll give you a new identity. 

So why were tears pouring down my face as I was watching this?  Because this heart was living in a crusty redneck with prison tats that was abetting some of the bad decisions these kids were making - it was not in the church.

How was the "church" represented? By these kids parents who were telling them that they were going straight to hell if they didn't rejoin the "church." Leaders telling them not to bother studying the bible or trying to learn about God because they weren't in that church. Someone from another church stopping by to judge and criticize the man helping them and the choice they were making also telling them they were going to hell.  By mothers who wouldn't allow their wayward sons to come to dinner and parishioners who wouldn't help with medical bills after an accident.

Now before you guys run to the bottom of this post to type 100 comments about how this is not your church, I know it's not.  It's not my church either.  In fact, this was a secluded group that would be happy to be spoken of as "separate."  

What I know though, from life experience, is that those of us who have spent years as "wayward" have believed at times that we were thought of as not good enough for church... and while I always knew deep in my heart that I was loved by God I couldn't help but wonder if some of my former pew mates thought I was blazing ahead full-speed for a place seven times hotter than earth fire. 

The striking contrast in the "reality" I was watching clearly illustrated an undercurrent among more "normal" Christians that is all too common and all too commonly ignored.

Nobody told them He loved them.

Nobody.

Nobody said it isn't about you - it isn't about what you've done or what you can earn or lose.

Nobody said "here's what's right" after "they're wrong."

At least they had the "they're wrong" part figured out.  Ever wanted to crawl through the phone and choke someone on the other end?  I wanted to crawl through my TV set and say, "He loves you."  "You can't be good enough.  They're not good enough.  You can't get there by living right or joining a church.  You can't run far enough or drink enough for Him to stop loving you.  There is nowhere you can go and no one you can sleep with that's too far for his hand to reach."

There's another part of me that wants to scream, "It's not about Heaven and Hell, stop selling people short!" but that's a blog post for another day.

My statement is simple.  For some of us, the holiness cart has been put before the Jesus horse.

Yeah I just compared my savior to a horse, but I'm pretty sure He's okay with it.

I'm not suggesting that we can live a life of sin and cash in our ticket to heaven at the pearly gates.  I'm simply suggesting that there are absolutely no prerequisites to the love of God.  No sins that we must walk away from on our own prior to walking in the doors of church or saying a prayer.  I'm reminding that the love of God is powerful enough and far reaching enough to wrap around us in our worst moments - even when those worst moments don't feel bad because we've been in them for so long. I'm also suggesting that this applies even to Christians.. even to those that know better.

Why is that last line a little harder to amen than the other five in that paragraph?

The changes in behavior in the life of a person are the direct result of time spent with God - the power of the Holy Spirit being allowed to turn our hearts.  They are not our earning of a place in the church, an entry into heaven, or the evidence of our struggle to eek out a Christian existence.  

If I can have permission to speak "christianese" for a moment, we have confused fruit with fertilizer - "because He lives in me" for "I should achieve." 

I had the honor of sharing with the ladies in my bible study recently.  When I was reading the story of an amazing but nameless woman the words of Jesus spoke to my heart... (Luke 7:37)

She was pouring her love, adoration, and worship on her savior.  She clearly didn't belong there.  The religious crowd was whispering about her glaring list of sins.  Y'all she was THAT woman.  There wasn't clothing thick enough to cover up her scarlet letter.  Jesus' words were simple.  "He who is forgiven much loves much." and "Your faith has saved you."

Her act of faith was simple.  She had the courage to come - even when no one thought she was worthy.  She simply showed up - at His feet.  His response?  You people are wrong.  She's got it right. Paraphrased of course.

My question in simple. Do you know how much you're loved?  Do you know that you can just come?  That there is absolutely nothing that can separate you from the love of God?  Have you told someone today?  Have you responded to sin with love?  To an outcast with hope?  Where is your opportunity to be heart, hands and feet?  

My challenge?  Take that moment when you're certain that "They're wrong," that the hammer isn't about to fall on their head and that God isn't out to get them and say, "Here's what's right.  He loves you."

Lead with your Jesus horse... 

Matthew 22:37-40 Jesus replied: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."

Ephesians 2:8-9  For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God--not by works, so that no one can boast.

2 Corinthians 3:18  And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.

Just Another Night

Just Another Night




Bee-be-be-be-be-be-be-be-be-beep

The sound forces

Me

Upright in bed

My feet into pants and boots

Before my mind

Catches up

With my instincts.




I realize why I'm awake.

It's just another night.




I feel the usual silent groan

In my stomach.

The disappointment of interrupted

Sleep.




I don't even try to pick out

Which cusswords my partner

Has chosen

To mumble under his breath.

After so many midnight runs,

I know them all

By heart.




Tonight though

I listen

With a start.

A different rhythm

Of sputtering and sighing is 

coming From the dark corner.

I remember that

This isn't my normal

Shift.






The lights cast

red

Nighttime shadows

On the trees

Lining the country road.




The siren is silent.

There is no one else to hear

And we know the sound

All too well.




There are yellow taillights

Blinking

Up ahead. A volunteer or two must have

Beaten the fire truck.

They motion us to the side of the road.




Our headlights reflect on a pile 

of mangled metal

Behind 

a tree.




The firemen are standing and staring.

Shaking their heads.

"He must be dead,"

I tell my partner.

He shrugs, "uh-huh."




"E-M-S seven, Cabarrus"

the radio crackles.

A dispatcher

Tired and bored responds.

"Activate pin-in protocol."




My partner's voice spurs me into action.

I move to get a good look at the scene.

That hump of metal, 

I think,

Used to be a car. 

Used to be.




Now a metal prison,

It is

Trying to keep life trapped inside.

What little is left of life, anyway




Surely there is no one alive in that twisted heap.

The firemen

Are still standing and staring.

What is wrong with them?

"Is he alive?" I ask.




The firemen looks at me

eyes big,

eyebrows raised.

He is shaking his head but

The "uhhh…" that is coming

From his mouth doesn't sound too 

sure.




They are STILL 

Standing and staring.




I grab one of them by the shoulders.

He stumbles to the side.

Just standing and staring.




Time hardens all of us.

Even the most sensitive heart

Will

Quickly become numb

Making death a

Norm,

And injury a 

strange fascination.




Nothing prepares you for

Everything.




My view opens up.

Between two fire coats I see

A tree

Where a driver should be.

I see

A monster

Or maybe an alien.

No, definitely a monster.

Staring up at me.




He looked young.

Young like me.

His dark skin glowed

Eerily, a shiny,

Bloody red. 




Bent metal, in no recognizable form

At all,

Encased every part of his

Lower body, side, and

Chest.

His head, in plain view

In the open air.




Claw-like hands reached around a metal

Shoulder harness

Created by the jaws of death

At war with gravity and this

Tree.





The tree completely blocked

Any exit from 

This side. 

The jaws of life, strong and powerful though it may be

Is no match for this twisted tangle of

Trunk, car, and person.




I hear the radio loudly again.

The now animated dispatcher is sending

Help.

A helicopter, a scene commander, 

More firemen.




I turn around to light a fire under

My standing and staring 

Audience.

"He's alive!" I say.

"Move! Get the tools, get me an IV set up,"

"move, move, move, let's get him

out of here!"




I climb up against the tree and look

Again at my patient.




My skills

Have taken back over now.

I no longer see a monster.

I see breathing, I see open eyes

I see lots, and lots of metal.




The blood

Doesn't matter.

It's ugly, but it's slow.

It's the least of my worries.




"It's okay, sweetie." I tell him.

"We've got all the troops. 

We're going to get you

Out of here"




He can't speak, but he nods and

Looks at me with

Eyes that understand.




I ask if his chest hurts,

If it's hard

To breathe.

He moans and nods.




"You've been in an accident,"

I tell him.

"Your car went airborne and

slid

down a tree."




I hear a fire truck pull in behind me.

Finally

a familiar face.

"What do you need, Esther?"

It's the assistant chief.

"I need him out of here.

I trust you. Just get me out 

yesterday."




The whirring whine

Of saws and hydraulic

Tools

Fills the air.

Metal cracking, breaking.




I can see that he

Is fading.

Now instinct is taking over

As he 

Incoherently tries to 

Claw away at

The metal

Cage

That he is in.




He writhes in silent agony,

The comprehension

In his eyes

replaced with a panicked blank stare.




I know we don't have 

much time.




My partner walks up

With the equipment and

I step back so he can 

Reach the patient.




The rest of the scene

Comes slowly into view.




Lights everywhere.




Nosy neighbors 

In

Small clusters.




Everyone 

Standing and staring.




The firemen working

Feverishly prying apart

The metal

Prison.




My supervisor 

Directing the

Helicopter in by radio.




The patient is clinging

To life, but

Only by a thread.

I see him throw his head

Back trying to escape

The oxygen mask

My partner

Is having to hold on.




His skin falls away

from his scalp

revealing more than half of his

skull.



My partner looks at

Me

And smiles.




"Well, no skull fracture."

"Yep, beats an x-ray

any day," I respond.




It seems like hours

Before the feverish hum

Surrounding

The car

Becomes an excited

Stir again.




They think they have enough of the metal

Cut away

To get him

Out.




He is too far

Gone

To 

Care.




His head injury has

Worsened with time.

He is now fighting those

Trying to 

Save him.




They move him

Onto a

Backboard.




He slumps over

suddenly

with no fight left.




Surely, we haven't come

This far

To lose 

now.




My mind hears the

Thoughts of 

Everyone on the scene.




Just a few more minutes

And he'll be airborne

Just a few more minutes.




The patient is hurriedly placed

On the ground.




Another medic

Is quick to place

A tube in his

Throat

And breathe for his tired body.




"We still have a pulse!"

I announce

Triumphantly.




The collective

Sigh of relief

Is audible.




The helicopter crew

Goes through

Their final

Preparations as

The ambulance

Bumps

Over the road into

A cow pasture.




The rotor wash whips

Sand and gravel

In our faces.

The medics 

Duck low

Running with the stretcher

Underneath the rotor blades.




We strap in the patient

And back away

From the chopper

Keeping eye contact

With the pilot

At 

All times.




Still and silent

We watch

Them fly toward the 

Trauma center.




Everyone's shoulders sink

A little

As the adrenaline

Ebbs away.




Heavy on each mind 

Is the almost

Certain

Death sentence 

That we are convinced

Our patient

Is fighting.




But not on our watch.

We didn't lose him

On our watch.






















Author's note: Patient recovered fully after several months in rehab.

Shadows Fall

Have you ever run by streetlight? The pavement is a fun mosaic of light dancing between the leaves and the ghosts and goblins giggle from behind every wall and pillar. It's a magical wonderland of sights and silence with an occasional rustle reminding you that you're not quite alone.  

Completely soundless until it's way too late, however, are the sprinkler ninjas. Silent and deadly. Who waters their grass at midnight anyway!?

Between the moonlight reflected downward by the clouds and the taxpayer powered streetlights there is no difficulty seeing the sidewalk. Completely deceiving though are the shadows cast by the tall wide trees and other large objects obstructing the passage of light. 

When you stop and stand in the shadow it's completely dark - so dark in fact that it is difficult if not impossible to see your feet.  If your focus was only on where you were standing at that exact moment you would see and feel complete darkness. I would imagine the feeling of fear and the absence of information about your surroundings could be rather daunting... If you were staring down at your feet you wouldn't even know that the blackness was just a shadow - literally only inches wide. 

So, look up! Raise your head; lift up your eyes! The light from the places you have been and the places you are going will illuminate the shadow of the darkness of your moments.  Every shadow that you step through builds faith that there is light on the other side. 

Proverbs 3:5-6 (NKJV) Trust in the LORD with all your heart, And lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He shall direct your paths.

Matthew 4:16 (NIV) the people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned."

Judgement free zone

My friend starts every girls road trip by informing everyone that the space surrounding us during the time we spend together is a, "judgement free zone."  The first time I heard her say that I cracked up laughing but it has become a standard phrase in my vocabulary, too. I love starting time shared with friends by declaring "hey, I'm about to be real but you're going to love me anyway.  Today I'm not faking it! You have earned entry into a place in my heart that is safe.  You are loved with your flaws and scars."

We have the same freedom with our Heavenly Father. 

Did you just feel your heart rate go up and your palms get sweaty?  Anxiety through the roof? Automatic response, "Yeah right?"

I spent so much of my life shying away from the presence of God, prayer time, whatever you'd like to call it because I didn't want to face God's view of my bad decisions.  My "God" - or my brain's view of Him - wielded a pointed finger and demanded perfection.  My mind told me that I'd have to give up everything in my life that I viewed as fun and conform to my view of Christian actions before I could face Him and before He would listen or care about what I had to say.  I felt that I had to fix me before I could come anywhere near God.

Somehow underneath my learned belief, my heart knew my Jesus and knew that the love that I had felt couldn't co-exist in a God who demanded perfection.  Underneath my fear, my guilt, my shame and my condemnation I knew that God loved me.  Even in the muck I had created for myself. 

God loves me. It's not just a Sunday school song.  Wrap your heart around that for a minute.  For God so loved the world, (John 3:16), while we were yet sinners (Romans 5:8), he poured his love on us (Romans 5:5, 1 Timothy 1:14).  

Why? Because we are a testimony of his Love and goodness. So that I can tell you how much God loves you because I know - without a doubt - how much God loves me.

My heart understood grace even though my legalistic brain couldn't translate that feeling into words.

God's desire for us is simply to fellowship with Him.   For us to come hang out with Him.  

"Then you will call on me and go and pray to me.  And you will seek me and find me when you search for me with all your heart."  (Jeremiah 29:12-13)  My favorite part of that verse is actually right after that.  "and I will be found by you..." Ah!  God's just waiting for us to seek so he can be found!

...and then.  I love those words.  We just spend time with God and then God changes us.  Ever so gently, no condemnation, no guilt.  "...and then..."  

So - come just like you are.  Mud and muck included.  

Happy  "and then..."

You are loved.

No matter how muddy you are the water always washes clean and yet stays crystal clear.