Notes From a Cowering Evangelist-- New Life

Thanks to my dear friends-Jayme and Los- who took the kids last Wednesday, I was able to go and spend the day in retreat with the Lord. It was a good day to grab some quiet time with the Spirit & in the Word before the new baby descends upon us.
I started my day at a park and set my chair beside a calm stream that was full of ducks and geese. I was spending time that day dwelling on my thirst for God. I've not been very thirsty over the past month and want to grow in my desire for time with my heavenly Father as the baby comes and life gets hectic.
I opened up my Bible to Psalm One. It seemed fitting considering my setting. These verses stuck out to me:

"Blessed is he who's delight is in the Law of the Lord
and in this Law he meditates day and night.
He will be like a tree planted by the streams of water
which yields it's fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither--
Whatever he does prospers..."

I was sitting right next to some lovely trees that were, like the tree mentioned above, planted right on the water, yet they did not seem to be teeming with life as the Psalm suggests they should. They still seemed dead from the winter cold. There were no fruit or flowers, no leaves-nothing to communicate that there was actual life in those trees.
When I think about the journey God has been taking me on in the area of Evangelism and Witness I relate to what I saw in these trees. I have been trying to adhere to the wisdom of this scripture. I've been trying to delight in God's Word and meditate on what is has to say about Witness. I've been thinking about it often, reading about it and talking it over with others on the road. In light of this I want the promise that comes with this blessing; to be planted by a nourishing stream, to be productive at just the right moment, to have a long-lasting effect. But for now I feel like these trees looked; Dead.
Maybe winter was too long or too severe. Maybe my root system doesn't really meet the water's edge and I'm missing all that life-giving water. Or what I really fear is that I'm just too dead. I'm too broken on the inside to fully be the kind of tree I dream of. Maybe the abundant life of witness and walking with the Spirit in unity and purpose is only for those who are more faithful, more holy, more something... but not me.
As I sat there and confessed this fear to God I waited for Him to speak to my heart. He called me to see those trees with His eyes--to see past the physical and obvious. To see into the tree itself, where life is teeming and brimming close to the surface. Nothing can be seen from the outside yet things are happening. Groundwork is being laid. The soil and water is strengthening. The Sun is feeding and warming. Life is just below the surface preparing to explode out in a dramatic display of color and joy when the moment is just right.
God called me to look closer at myself as well. I am not dead nor I am too broken! The Spirit has not yet chosen to grow obvious, physical fruit in this area of my discipleship, but He is strengthening me, nourishing me, teaching me and giving me a passion and a vision. He is giving me a deep calling and promises an inheritance among the nations.
So, I will put my trust in the good and faithful Gardener who tends the vine and promises me a good and hearty season, and I will be patient for when that season joyfully arrives.

Mind-Bending Quote of the Day

When I say, "I am not afraid to fail," it makes me cringe. Of course I am afraid. I will continue to experience embarrassment and to believe that I've done things inappropriately. I'm certain I will hurt again, both when I give and when I receive. But when I change "I am not afraid to fail" to "I am fearless of failure"--aha! Now I can tap into the eternal plan and live in light of the great beyond. In Christ, I can be fearless of failure because not only is there no fear in him, there is no failing. He is always successful, and he turns my stumbling into his victory. I am fearless of failure because my blunders have no power, no meaning. Christ's victory has meaning and power. My failings exist; they are real, but they define neither me nor Christ. My failings can be forgiven and redeemed. So I risk being a creative instrument of Christ. It's worth it.

Alice Bass

The Creative Live: A Workbook for Unearthing the Christian Imagination

The Underbelly of Being Pregers-Just Leave Me the Crap Alone!

There are many things I don't like about being pregnant, but by far my least favorite thing is how the pregnancy seems to put a big sign over my head that reads,
"Hey I'm Pregnant--TALK TO ME!"
Anytime I go out I am accosted by perfect strangers wondering things about me that are, frankly, none of their business: when I'm due, the sex of the baby, what names we're thinking about. I wish I had the nerve to stick it to these people and say in a very offended voice that I'm not pregnant, but I always chicken out. I've even had some women come over and rub my belly in the middle of Target! But the worst was when I was pregnant with Cecilia and a man came over, thumped me on the tummy and said, "Yep! Sounds ripe to me!"
Once, when I was pregnant with Gareth, a woman walked over to our table at Fuddrucker's and asked when I was due. On this particular night Cecilia had been a beast! She didn't feel great and had spent much of the meal acting out and crying. Josh finally had to take her out to the car to discipline her. It was his exit that prompted this woman's advance. "When are you due?" She asked. I had seen her paying attention to us while we were eating and knew she was coming over to chat. I took an inward sigh, plastered a polite smile on my face and replied, "The end of the September." Her eyes widen and she said, "Oh well, that little one you have now is in for a RUDE awakening when that baby comes." And then she stood there and waited for me to respond to her idiotic comment. I looked at her like she had lost her senses, scoffed and left the restaurant. I've never been angrier driving home from dinner.
But the most obnoxious of these offenders are the women (mostly at checkout counters) who ask when I'm due and then after my response let their eyes get big and round and say, "WOW! Are you having twins." or "4 more weeks! You look ready to explode!" This happens at least 3 times a week.
How can people think this is appropriate or helpful. Do they think they are making me feel better about myself? Do they think that it is easy to keep the crazy under control when you are this huge, this pregnant, and this hormonal. Sigh. I just want people to leave me alone or ask me other questions about myself. I am more than just a baby warmer/grower, right? There is a human being under all this water and weight? Maybe? Just leave us pregers alone. Odds are we don't want to talk to you!

Notes from a Cowering Evangelist: Fish & Loaves

I spent the afternoon looking at Mark 6 where Jesus feeds the 5,000+. I was struck by Christ's conversation with the disciples. When they tell him to send away the people because everyone needed to eat, Jesus says, "You give them something to eat." Flabbergasted the disciples point Christ to the fact that they don't have the resources to feed everyone. Jesus' response was, "Bring what you do have to me." And what did they have--only two fish and five loaves, and the result was that ALL were satisfied.

When I think about sharing the gospel with non-Christians I often wish I had a better set of gifts. I wish I was comfortable just bringing up Jesus with strangers at Cafe Gouda. I wish I had a natural passion that was always at the forefront of my brain. Mainly, I wish my life was less difficult. With one car, three kids (soon enough), a job, a full schedule for both Josh and I, time spent trying to build relationship with other families in our church and the time Josh and I spend serving at church, I struggle to see where in my week I would even be out of my house long enough to meet someone who didn't know Jesus.

But I need to stop wishing for a life that I see as ideal. I need to stop whining about not having enough time and take what I have to Christ and let Him do something with it. I need to ask the Spirit daily to take the two hours and five minute I have outside the house on a given day or week and lead me into divine appointments.

God--give me an in your face passion for the lost and use the gifts and personality You blessed me with to connect with those who are longing to know You. Help me be creative in seeing where in my life I can make more space for building relationships with the lost.

Take these meager fish and loaves and bring satisfaction to Hickory and the world.

The Underbelly of Being Pregers

One of the worst side affects of my pregnancies is that by the end I start having disturbing dreams and nightmares a few times a week. If you notice when I'm posting this you will see that I am up in the middle of the night, because tonight it was a full out horrific nightmare that left me unable to sleep. I won't go into detail this time (smile--see the post "Notes from a Cowering Evangelist: A Nightmare"), but needless to say I am pretty frustrated. I try to wake Josh up on the really bad nights, but he barely stirs enough to say dreamily, "Oh, honey (yawn) I'm so sorry." As he rolls over and goes back off to blissful sleep. So between the dreaming and waking up a few times to use the bathroom and the back pain, it is no wonder that I feel the need to take two naps a day.

If I were a bit more spiritual I would probably see how the Lord is moving toward me in this place of extreme exhaustion. I would relish the quite and solitude time to spend in the Word or in meditative prayer, but instead I think I'll just continue my Agatha Christie novel. Go Miss Marple, Go! Or I could catch up on that America's Next Top Model Marathon I DVRed. Which one shall I choose?