Neighborhood Evangelism, Oh My

She comes to the door, crocodile tears falling, desperate to have audience with me, the harried mother attempting to get four children to AWANA on time.

A bully at school calls her drama queen and I don't scratch my head when I hear it.

Lexi is soft-hearted and hard-hearted, stubborn and pliable, hungry and starved, beautiful and homely, high-maintenance and higher-maintenance.

And right now she wants to go to AWANA but her mother won't let her. And Aidan, another neighbor of ours and a classmate of Lexi's...his mother will let him come and that burns a jealous whole in Lexi's heart and I can't seem to shut my door on her drama, even though we need to be there in twenty minutes and my children haven't finished their spaghetti and I haven't combed out the girls' wet hair or taken a bite myself.

And the church is eight minutes away.

As I listen to her sobbing and her begging, it's all I can do to keep my tone even. My demeanor controlled.

My son is not unlike her and I know she doesn't choose this drama. The Lord has her crying and begging at the right house because even as she stretches my patience daily, my heart aches for her.

I'm no stranger to begging myself, as my Heavenly Father will attest to. And drama? I can dish that up too.

I long to wash her dirty, disheveled hair and trim her bangs. I long to have the money and time to peruse thrift stores for her like she were one of my own. She's ten and her clothes are too tight, too short, and her tops resemble camisoles.

"Maybe your mom will let you go next week", I offer in desperation.

"I won't be here next week."

Never mind that this is a lie we've heard before. What she really wants is for me to defy her mother and drive her to AWANA anyway, I suppose.

Finally, I do get our front door closed and Lexi does leave the premises and I do get the crew to the church on time. Sort of...if you consider that the teachers ran late.

On the road there, I remembered. For six and a half years there were no neighborhood children to play with and we prayed for friends. Now, as new children show up weekly from various streets and the yard resembles a school playground, I wonder at my naivete.

Boy did I have it good before.

For neighborhood children? They resemble the world in all its brokenness. And me? I'm redeemed but really just as broken and what was God thinking in making my home this hubbub?

Most days I'm so spent by 4:00 when these kids come knocking, I want to lock the door, slump down and hide.

All these kids know we're homeschooling, church-going Jesus freaks and how can I possibly shine for Jesus when the dinner and bath show must go on as planned and doesn't God know the witching hours are hard on my nerves, anyway? How do I add the dance of playground referee while draining my spaghetti, washing preschooler hair, and setting a nightly table?

I don't know God, but I trust you?

Tonight was AWANA missions night and a missionary from the Ukraine asked us to pray for Ukrainian children because their daily realities are dark and painful, lonely and loveless.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The spiritual poverty in the Ukraine is as shocking as the physical poverty in Kenya.

Ukrainian children are expected to be married by eighteen and to have their first child in their first year of marriage. By the third year of marriage eighty percent of them divorce.

And that child they had in the first year? He becomes inconvenient as another spouse is sought.

So they drop the child off at an orphanage. Extra baggage.

I'm listening and ready to cry at the darkness in another mother's heart, all those miles away. How could she? Atheist or not, how could she?

I look over at Aidan, my neighbor boy sitting across the church pew from me, listening to this same story. I brought him in my old, rotten, 220,000 mile van, to this church, after praying for two years that my witness would be strong.

I thought of the darkness in the Ukraine and the darkness on my street and I realized something.

I don't have to be ready at 4:00 when the children come knocking on my door. I don't have to be all smiles, ultra-controlled, full of stamina and patience. I'm not on display. My lifestyle is not on display. My children are not on display.

The God of the Universe, He's on display.  And he'll do just fine, whether I've had a good day or not. He doesn't need me, but he'll use me, brokenness and all.

Tomorrow when they come knocking, my nerves might not be ready but my heart will be. Before Christ plucked me from a dark, hurting world, I was a dirty sinner like the mothers in the Ukraine who drop their firstborns off at orphanages. I want to think I was better, but I wasn't. I was lost, hurt, confused. I wanted my own way and I desperately needed the Light.

While we were sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:8

Prayer Time: Dear Lord, thank you for the cross. Thank you for the glorious life we have in you. Help me to say yes to playground referee and to lost souls. Shine your Light from my home, my porch, my yard. May all these children burn to ask about you. Give me the patience, the right words, the right prayers. Help my children to grow in you, to tell about you, to uphold you. They are in a battleground now, Lord. Protect their hearts and minds in Christ Jesus and may they say yes to evangelism. Yes to putting others above themselves, yes to the Gospel-driven life. Shine, Jesus, Shine.

In Your Son's name I pray, Amen.

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Walk With Him Wednesday: Practice of Suffering

Ann Voskamp, every Wednesday, hosts a link-up about  spiritual practices that draw us nearer to His heart.

To read the entire series of spiritual practices

The assignment this week is: The Practice of Suffering…What does it mean to pick up a cross? How do we walk through hard times? How do we participate in the sufferings of Christ? We look forward to your Scripture study, stories, encouragement….

I contemplated...shall I write about money being scarce, about the washer we bought new four years ago making an awful screeching sound, about the vacuum that smells like an electrical fire every time I turn it on...about all the broken things that can't be fixed just now? How the frustration of it all leaves me feeling lonely, forgotten, hopeless, and how those emotions drive me to Scripture for comfort, because I know in my heart that I do have enough...much even?

But no...it's all too fresh today and could I really take the whine out of the words this soon?

I settled, then, on writing about parenting special-needs children. Children are always a blessing, no matter the challenges, but when a child suffers for whatever reason, a whole family suffers. It's a shared suffering.

How does one walk through parenting years with handicaps constantly changing the rules, the possibilities, the limits? How do you lead a child to a God who allowed their handicaps and chooses not to heal them, all the while pushing your child to overcome obstacles and triumph?

One of my sons doesn't control his emotions, his impulses, his passions, his body. And attention to detail eludes him unless he's indulging a passion. While indulging that passion--such as the search for the perfect pet--he will eat and drink too little and his body will remain tense, his mood intense, his behavior ugly. When it's all said and done, he'll find no satisfaction and he'll be spent, exhausted, irrational...looking for the next "fix"...the next obsession.

His mind, suited for fight or flight, doesn't know how to function without intense stimulation. He will irritate those around him for fun when unoccupied, just to stimulate his brain. A brain that can't seem to rest.

No matter the years on the calendar, he doesn't get any closer to managing himself.

Even in his relationship with God, he has trouble attending to details. The discipline of prayer, of Bible reading---it's all a tremendous fight to persevere...to let the words, the comfort, sink in and transform. It's as though his spirit as well as his body is constantly restless and on edge.

The whole family, it has no choice but to ride the waves the speed boat--my son's brain--leaves in its wake. Usually we stay afloat just fine, but sometimes we sink in despair and need rescuing.

And always, we wish it could be different.

My son is not unhappy with his brain or with the condition itself, per se. He doesn't know how a normal brain functions so he doesn't know what he's missing. And in certain ways, his disorder has advantages. In fight or flight situations, he excels.

His pain comes from constantly disappointing people--from rarely seeing approval in people's eyes. From taking longer to complete the same arduous tasks and seeing the result look far worse--whether it be handwriting or making a bed. Though in things he likes to do, the results please him and others.

His work ethic is constantly suspect and uninformed people label these kids lazy brats. Or if they are adults...lazy idiots.

As a parent I worry about his future wife, his future children, his future job...about his joy and peace. His disorder is highly heritable--his own father and my half-brother both have a form of it. At least one of his children will probably have it, or worse. How will he cope with a special-needs child when his own brain is different? How will his wife cope with two unique brains in the house, changing the way everyday life looks? Changing the expectations she grew up with for how people react, cope, persevere?

Should my son even get married...and if he doesn't how will he combat loneliness and impurity?

The question Ann asks is really this: When daily reality is achingly hard and there are more questions than answers...how does one live? How does one get up every day and want to try?

The answer is glorious in its simplicity. Whereas others have a choice about whether to pursue God every day or not, the sufferer doesn't. Daily life feels too heavy and the prospect of getting up too daunting, without the strength of the Lord.

When the Apostle Paul tells me in 2 Corinthians 12:9: But 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...I get it! I really get it!

Because Christ's power? I have to wield it or I would sink piteously into my bed most days, unwilling to persevere. 

And when my children go to sleep at night basking in warm memories of a good day, I have the Lord to thank. Only Him, for in my own strength I botch our days something fierce. 

Day by day as I walk with him faithfully, the Lord teaches me how to transcend circumstances so that my heart and mind dwell in heaven already...they dwell in the perfection of eternity. When turmoil threatens me, I know the answer comes in adjusting my gaze. I can walk on the water when my gaze is right. And when my gaze lowers, we all sink.

It is a daily practicing, a daily trusting his promises and seeing His glory revealed.

No, I wouldn't have chosen this. My son and my family, they wouldn't have chosen this. The Lord in his wisdom and love, he gave us turmoil as a gift. He's taught me to see it as gift, and how to present it to my family as gift.

And in the end, I love Him more. I trust Him more. I need Him more. I bask in more. I live the truth that less is more.

And as I finish writing this, there are tears. Tears of joy, tears of thankfulness. Tears of triumph. Not my triumph, but His. 

And living for Him...wanting Him to triumph? It feels perfect.

Linking with Ann today, at Walk With Him Wednesday

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Tuesday Devotions: Comfort From Isaiah 40:1-11

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Study with me today, friend? I'm looking at comfort from Isaiah. Whatever your sorrow, whatever your hardship, whatever has cast down your spirit, Scripture and prayer are your answer. We waste so much time looking for comfort elsewhere, when really, the first thing we should have done is get that Bible in our hands. If you don't have a study Bible, look up your desired verses on Bible Gateway and click on "show references". A few Bible commentaries should appear at your right.

Isaiah 40:1-11
Judah's time of judgment has come to an end (vv. 1-2), the exiles will return home via the desert highway (vv. 3-5), the hated kingdom (Babylon) will wither (vv. 6-8), Jerusalem will prepare for the return (vv. 9-10), and God will accomplish it (v. 11). While these words were meant for sixth-century Jewish exiles, like all prophetic words, their meaning is expansive. This scene was reenacted with paradigmatic force in the preparation by John the Baptist for the coming of the Christ, who continues to lead his people into freedom. (These notes from Asbury Bible Commentary)

1 Comfort, comfort my people,
says your God.
2 Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and proclaim to her
that her hard service has been completed,
that her sin has been paid for,
that she has received from the Lord’s hand
double for all her sins.

3 A voice of one calling:
“In the wilderness prepare
the way for the Lord;
make straight in the desert
a highway for our God.
4 Every valley shall be raised up,
every mountain and hill made low;
the rough ground shall become level,
the rugged places a plain.
5 And the glory of the Lord will be revealed,
and all people will see it together.
For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

6 A voice says, “Cry out.”
And I said, “What shall I cry?”
“All people are like grass,
and all their faithfulness is like the flowers of the field.
7 The grass withers and the flowers fall,
because the breath of the Lord blows on them.
Surely the people are grass.
8 The grass withers and the flowers fall,
but the word of our God endures forever.”

9 You who bring good news to Zion,
go up on a high mountain.
You who bring good news to Jerusalem,
lift up your voice with a shout,
lift it up, do not be afraid;
say to the towns of Judah,
“Here is your God!”
10 See, the Sovereign Lord comes with power,
and he rules with a mighty arm.
See, his reward is with him,
and his recompense accompanies him.
11 He tends his flock like a shepherd:
He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
he gently leads those that have young.

Copy the last verse and put in on your bathroom mirror:

11 He tends his flock like a shepherd:
He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
he gently leads those that have young.

When I read this last verse especially, I'm reminded that all is well with my soul, with my life, with my today and my tomorrow. Scripture reminds us of God's infinite love and infinite power. It reminds us that "the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the Word of our God endures forever." It reminds us that our peace comes when we shift our focus from the temporal back to the eternal.

The peace of Christ that surpasses all understanding, it goes away when we take our eyes off of Him. Turmoil in our hearts doesn't feel like a choice, but it is. When we choose to neglect Bible and prayer, we choose turmoil. If our minds are so troubled we can't form coherent sentences, we can pray in spirit and groans. He will understand.

A very good reason, besides our own comfort, to pursue God daily is to aid our witness. We are supposed to be a people at peace, a people of God--not perfect, but redeemed and grateful for it, like the bold, broken woman who washed Jesus' feet with her tears, and like the leper who threw himself at Jesus' feet in thankfulness and worship. We need this same heart. This same humility. And it's the Word and prayer that restore us to these humble positions.

We need the Bible friend. We need it.

Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God. Matthew 4:4

Multitude Monday: A Sinful Woman Anoints Jesus' Feet

Luke 7:37-49 (Scripture in red italics, commentary in black.)

A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume. 

In ancient times it was common for meals to be public. This house was probably typical of well-to-do homes in the region, built around a courtyard which forms a hollow square. In the courtyard there might be a fountain and a cool garden where the household is partaking of a meal. When an important person came to dine, spectators were likely, though they weren't welcome to interact with the diners. 

Though this event occurred at the beginning of Jesus' ministry, (another woman anointed Jesus with perfume at the end of his ministry) this sinful woman had heard about Jesus the compassionate teacher, who dared to spend time with sinners and publicans. She came hoping to anoint his feet with perfume, despite knowing that her notorious reputation would make her unwelcome in the Pharisee's house. Her faith was great, making her bold, knowing that Jesus himself would not reject her, even if the other guests did.

As she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.

She did not come intending to cry, but only to anoint Jesus' clean feet. The Heavenly Father drew her (John 6:44) to this place and as she sat before Jesus, the burden of her sinful life overwhelmed her. She began weeping.

John 6:44

"No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him, and I will raise him up at the last day.

A guest's feet would customarily be washed by a servant upon arrival and their head anointed with olive oil. Neither of these things were done for Jesus at this house, so as the woman's tears fell, the dirt on Jesus' feet ran and she wiped the dirt away with her hair. Remember that letting her hair down was uncustomary to say the least--a cause of shame even.

When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.”

Simon had not invited Jesus to dinner to trap him, but merely to get to know him and understand him better. He hadn't known what to make of Jesus and his ministry, previously.

Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.”

“Tell me, teacher,” he said.

“Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”

Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.”

“You have judged correctly,” Jesus said.

Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair.You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.”

Just like in our story last week of the Ten Lepers, we find that our gratitude reveals our faith. This woman's faith that Jesus would receive her and have compassion on her, and her boldness in appearing before those who she knew would regard her with disdain, and her tears of gratitude at Jesus' grace and compassion, reveal her great love of the Savior. He who has been forgiven much, loves much.

Only one character leaves with salvation, as we saw with the Ten Lepers story. Not Simon or his other supper guests, not the nine lepers who failed to come back and thank Jesus. The leper who knelt down to lavishly thank Jesus, and this sinful woman whose thankful tears washed Jesus feet, were saved. 

They weren't saved as a result of their works. Rather, their works, their love, revealed their faith, and their faith justified them. Just as Abraham's faith justified him, and our faith in Jesus' blood justifies, saves, us.

Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven...go in peace.”

The other guests began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?”

The woman in this story was unnamed, but presumed to be a great sinner, such as a prostitute. Whenever a character in the Bible is unnamed, the character represents many people. This sinful woman? She is you. She is I. 

James 2:10
Whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it.

It doesn't matter if you were saved at the age of 5, or at the age of 31, or at the age of 70. You have sinned much, like this woman. We mustn't lose sight of that. We mustn't let our tears of gratitude dry up. 

This is especially difficult if you were saved young and never had opportunity to pursue a sinful lifestyle. You may represent Simon if you feel superior to others in this regard. But think of the lifestyle from which you were saved! This not of yourself, but the Grace of God. You would have pursued sin, had it not been for His grace...had it not been for the Father calling you to Himself.

You and I, we can't wash Jesus' feet with our tears of gratitude. Not yet. 

But what can we do now, to show our gratitude? Can we make it a priority to disciple our children every day? Can we stay in the Word and daily be reminded of our debt...and of our great love for Him? Can we commune with the Holy Spirit every day through prayer, praises, and giving thanks?

Thanks-living. This beautiful story is the most profound New Testament example of thanks-living. For this woman, she forgot all propriety and boldly worshiped her Jesus. She lived her gratitude.

Jesus challenges us to live against culture. To boldly give thanks, to boldly worship, to boldly obey, to boldly be the hands and feet of Jesus to a hungry, hurting world. Answer the challenge. 

Let us remember this woman, whose gratitude and love pleased Jesus exceedingly. 

Prayer Time: Dear Father, thank you for drawing me to yourself, for saving me from my sins. May I worship you with the same boldness this story illustrates. May we all feel the magnitude of your compassion, your grace, your love...and respond accordingly. Let us not be distracted by this world, but really live our gratitude. Keep the arrogance of Simon out of our hearts, Father. Let us walk humbly, act justly, love mercy.

In Jesus name I pray, Amen

Giving thanks today:

~ Husband's hugs and his gentle forgiveness of hormonal mood sins
~ Peter's ready forgiveness
~ Children's prayers
~ Paul's work ethic and diligent piano practice
~ Mary's generous hugs and love
~ Holy Spirit reminders
~ Family dinners
~ Wild grace
~ The Father calling me those 15 years ago
~ daily grace raining down 
~ The Word
~ Prayer partners

What are you thankful for today, my friend?

Giving thanks with Ann today.

A Desperate Prayer

A friend hurts and I've prayed. My prayer partners, they've prayed. The hurt goes so deep and things look so hopeless and the peace of God in her agnostic heart, it isn't showing up.

"Show up, Lord! Show up for my friend, knock on the door of her heart and be large...so large you can't be mistaken as anything but the Almighty God."  I shout it in my mind as I hear how discouraged she is, how maybe she should get some antidepressant.

And my day rolls on and I hurt too. I can't believe God isn't showing up. One of the biggest prayers of my life...and no end to the pain yet. God, birth one of your wine-from-water miracles. Let it be now.

I hang clothes and wash dishes and dictate sentences and give out M&M's for proper punctuation. I help with kindergarten journal sentences. I produce sandwiches and fake smiles and all the while, I wonder what He has planned? How long will the intensity last and will it get any worse?

All the Scriptures I know, they are for Believers. How do I comfort a non-Believer when she wants to tune out the slightest of spiritual sentiment? How do I penetrate her heart at all?

And the water bill and the insurance bill, they are late and the math doesn't work out and the kids want to go to the township carnival and I think how, without God, it would all break me. Daily life is so hard but I don't break. I wake up and He carries me and He helps me count blessings. He makes my children hug me at just the right times. He offers grace and love and truth, all for the taking.

And I take it. I open my arms wide and I take the Grace and I cherish the wonder of it.

And my heart aches that my friend, she doesn't have this. She doesn't know that God will provide and His math is a foreign kind...an eternal kind. She doesn't know that grace will rain like it's forever spring, and your bra wire could be sticking into you the bra is so old, but it won't matter. Because in Him, the temporal remains temporal.

She doesn't know any of this. And please God, tell her? Penetrate her heart with Truth as only you can. Show her that life can be hard, really hard, but in You, there is Peace. 

Two of my prayer partners, they are sure You are working. Their confidence astounds me and maybe I'm too close to it? Give me the same confidence, Lord? Make me so exude this confidence that my belief is contagious?

In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.