Presents to Presence

Presents and food were always the first thing that leapt into my mind when someone mentioned Christmas to me as a child.  So began my plotting and drooling.

Getting older means now I’m thinking about the presents to plan for and shop for and wrap, not to mention groceries and lots of cooking! Whew!

I still glean many joys from these things, yet, with age came a better   understanding of what the real gifts are that I should honor & praise.

First to honor the food of God’s word.  Not just on holidays, but for every    devotion, bible study and sermon each week.  I know I could never recall them all. Just as I will never remember every meal I’ve ever eaten.  Yet if I hadn’t eaten every day?

God’s word is even more essential to our faith than the food we eat to live!

Next is to praise the dearest thing of all to me which is God’s presence, (not presents, but you know what I mean) in my life, everyday!

And because I know He is with me, my attitude and presence can be a loving gift to others, too!  =)

Here I am, Lord

Arthur came to our door for his usual bag of food from our food bank. In exchange, he washes the windows of ROP. He is tall with long uncut hair & beard. Weather beaten and aged, it doesn’t seem all that surprising when you discover him talking to himself.

Rather than hold a sign that reads WILL WORK FOR FOOD, Arthur has created hand made tools and poles he uses to wash windows. Businesses offer him cash for services which he survives on and shares with others.

Arthur calls me by a different name every time he comes. He knows I’ll visit awhile after I bring his food.
It’s hard to follow the conversation when he talks of swimming at restaurants and deserts in people’s ears.
I can’t change Arthur or fix him, only accept him as a child of God. Yet, I have something to learn from Arthur for I can feel Christ with us every time I just sit and listen.

Fuming to Counting Blessings

There has been more than one snow this last month that left my car covered.  Road conditions no one liked, and my appointments for work didn’t just cancel just because I didn’t want to drive.

I admit, I don’t have the greatest attitude for others sometimes, when I’m driving; so I’ve learned to pray.  This last month, it kind of went like this...

I hate scraping the car ~ Well at least I have a car

I have a garage to, but we’re using it for sorting through our household projects, and Christmas. Guess we’re blessed.

I hate driving in the snow ~ at least you’re not freezing at the bus stop. Think of all those people you’re seeing that don’t have a choice.

I have a warm home and food on my table, kids and a husband that love me.  We may not have a lot, but we have all that matters.

Thank you again, Jesus, for putting things in perspective.  Now, which station is it that has nonstop Christmas songs on the radio?  =)

"What are you most thankful for?" she asked.

You mean beyond the funnies, cordless power drills, silly puns, super glue?   

No seriously, I guess it would be my parent’s example.

I was estranged from my parents for many years, something they didn't want.  It took years and obvious evidence of their trying before I believed they really wanted to close the breach.  It was never easy.

We all had to work hard at not letting the past rob the future, letting go of old hurts, and harsh communications, to build new memories and good experiences shared once more.  Because of the time and work we put in, our bonds are strong and I can safely say I count them as my closest friends.

So, if I must pick one thing I'm grateful for, it would be my parent’s ability to fight the odds, admit mistakes, and change with the need to strive for something beyond measure; and their patience in passing that skill along to me.  It has made me a better person and steadied all my relationships since.

Oooo, and I’m grateful for hot cocoa.  =)

Thanksgiving Thoughts

⁶ “No, this is the kind of fasting I want:   Free those who are wrongly imprisoned; lighten the burden of those who work for you. Let the oppressed go free, and remove the chains that bind people.

⁷ Share your food with the hungry, and give shelter to the homeless. Give clothes to those who need them, and do not hide  from relatives who need your help.

⁸ Then your salvation will come like the dawn, and your wounds will quickly heal. Your godliness will lead you forward, and the glory of the LORD will protect you from behind.

⁹ Then when you call, the LORD will answer. 'Yes, I am here,' he will quickly  reply. "Remove the heavy yoke of  oppression. Stop pointing your finger and spreading vicious rumors!

¹⁰ Feed the hungry, and help those in trouble. Then your light will shine out from the darkness, and the darkness around you will be as bright as noon.

¹¹ The LORD will guide you continually, giving you water when you are dry and  restoring your strength. You will be like a well-watered garden, like an ever-flowing spring.

¹² Some of you will rebuild the deserted ruins of your cities.  Then you will be known as a rebuilder of walls and a restorer of homes.”  

Isaiah 58: 6-12  NLT

Charity

Charity is an amazing young woman in her early 20’s that has tons of  energy and enthusiasm to volunteer with teens along East Colfax because she has been one.

I met her six months ago when she came to ROP excited about our passion and mission.  As we talked it became clear that, though a Christian, she was not living a lifestyle in line with God’s word.  Though I could not put her in a volunteer         position, I encouraged her heart and passion for the children and her very new walk of faith.

She comes intermittently  and asks me tons of things about starting a non-profit of her own, or even just a sports program for inner city children.  I could have just told her all the flaws yet we need women like her.  Each time, I give her the truth, but as an equal, with lots of examples for her to see from a greater perspective, and tons of encouragement, too.

Today she shared that she is now working with kids!  And I shared what an inspiration she has been to me, a street kid too, that God saved so that I could reach out to others.

Got Glass?

My Dad told me a favorite engineering joke once that changed my life:

“The pessimist says the glass in half empty;
the optimist, the glass is half full;
the engineer takes one look and says,
‘You’ve got too much glass.’”

I laughed of course, yet it stuck with me, even to my evening prayers. That’s when my mind stilled enough to hear a still small voice.  I had been hungering to feel closer to God yet felt like dry old leaves, blown by every wind, and overwhelmed.

A piece of scripture or just a phrase came to mind in that quietness, “I will fill your cup to overflowing.” Whether it read: my heart or my life with blessings, I couldn’t remember. I just knew it was something good, and what God intended for me, always.

I had been so busy doing for God and clinging to what I thought I needed, that I had forgotten to seek only Him as He striped things away and added things to my life according to His will.  Now, thanks to two fathers, both fantastic engineers. I try not to cling to things I own, or join things that are not God’s will for me.

I’m learning more each day how to give like all I own & earn are God’s and that He can be trusted to, not just take great care of me, but bless me beyond measure.

You know I'm right...

Do we really think that being right is more acceptable in God's eyes than valuing a relationship?

The need to be right is such a part of human nature, who doesn't suffer from it?  I know I'm no exception!  All I have to do it take one look at my marriage.  My husband and I didn't meet until I was 36.  He had been married with children before, I never had.  I had already been a missionary for 5 years and had confessed to my dad that "I've become so set in my ways, I'm not sure a man could stand being married to me."

I felt so close to God, seeking Him in ministry, in every day things, in everything.  At first it was hard to believe He meant marriage to this wonderful man & his children for me.  We took our time, prayed, and married in a cloud of love.  What do they say about the honeymoon phase wearing off?

I make no excuses that I came from a checkered background.  Consequently, I think my insecurities and justifications for my behavior are as strong as that deep well inside me that needs to be seen as right and acceptable.  I remember reading somewhere a quote. "Amazing how your bad habits disappear when you live alone."  Great for a laugh, a little too close to home those first years of marriage.

God had so much to teach me as He lead me so far out of my comfort zone.  Everyone loves those verses about love in I Corinthians and how it goes on to speak in chapter 13 about "without love, I am nothing."  It was verse 5 that gave me the most trouble. "[Love] does not demand its own way." NIV

Ouch! Unconditional love, ouch.  It starts, 'this is how I do it'; then, 'my way is better', and it goes downhill from there.  Long story short, God brought me to I John 4:19-21. "If anyone says, 'I love God,' yet hates his brother, he is a liar.  For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God, whom he has not seen.  And he has given us this command: Whoever loves God must also love his brother."

First I had to learn to shut my mouth and let God lead instead of my emotions.  Though Christ I began to discover the deeper blessings He had for me.  My love and need to protect could be stifling, yet my respect was a cherished gift.  My knowledge, prized, when asked for and only then freely given.  Reminders became caring teamwork, rather than critical statements.  Gently peeling back one layer at a time, Jesus is taking me deeper into understanding unconditional love.  I still have a lot to learn.  And learn again and again.

It is not a perfect marriage, but a Christ lead one of two very human beings.  Loving my husband has made me a better person.  It taught me about unconditional love, relationships, and issues that stem from a need to be right.  It's made me a better missionary.  I see God's desire for relationships in a whole new light.

Recently I read something by Jeff Rosenau, in his book: "When Christians Act Like Christians, God's Call to Christlike Civility" that put the words to what I feel like I'm learning and observing more clearly in my church, my ministry, and my community:

     How is it that God's people withdraw our love from one another over matters such as contemporary and traditional music, when God's desire is for us to be known for our love for one another?
     It happens when Satan deceives us into believing two lies that lead to the withdrawing of our love for others.
     Those two lies are:
          1. Issues are more important to God then relationships.  (but they're not!)
          2. Being "right" is more important to God then doing right.  (but it is not!)

     There is a strong desire within human beings to be "right" and to get our way.  So when someone comes along who doesn't see things exactly as we do, with the potential to keep us from getting our way, our sinful hearts and spiritual immaturity are often revealed.

After I read that, Christ put the thought through my mind; self-confidence is not about feeling confident you're right.  Its strength lies in the fact that it really is about knowing you can be wrong, learn from it, and it isn't the end of the world.  The relationships I keep and the love I show are much more precious.

A Stirring Why...

You are part of God’s calling for missionaries. What calling, you ask? You’ll find it in Matthew 9: 37-38. It goes like this…

“The harvest truly is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Therefore pray to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest field.”

So now what? That’s easy! Be obedient and pray for laborers! For some of you this will mark a time when God uses your prayer life to support and encourage a missionary. For some, this will mark a time when God uses you to meet the practical needs of a missionary. For others, this will mark a time when God stirs you up to become a missionary. Whether it is in Aurora, like me, or across the sea, it is a blessing to follow.

Please allow me to share my heart with you so that you can become part of God’s call on my life as a missionary. It has grown over the last 9 years from working with at-risk teens to building relationships and community for my East Colfax neighborhood, my ministry to small groups and individuals just like you.

But first, some background on who I am as a Christian & a missionary…

I became a prodigal living along East Colfax by the age of 10 and proceeded to make uninformed and simply bad choices which led to crime and abuse. My story could have ended there, as a victim living in fear and emotional isolation, but for the grace of God.

Nothing fancy changed my prodigal perspective. I just began meeting some everyday Christians, just like you. People that prayed, chatted, invited me for a meal, or simply treated me with quiet respect. Steered back to reconciliation with my family, my parents and I worked to rebuild trust and friendship. The Holy Spirit did the rest and I discovered that I could find healing for my body, mind and soul through Christ. No longer a victim, I am a survivor, and through Christ, so much more.

Now, a missionary to the very streets that tried to brake me. I’m passionate about sharing God’s plans for building relationships, and for community development with church partners and champions. Now I am a point person for agencies & churches serving our community. Additionally, I facilitate our church partners in offering their congregations safe & enriching opportunities for them to serve God as they serve His marginalized people & at-risk children.

As Christ is faithful to bring alongside me pastors to instruct me, a willing team of Champions, and most importantly a prayer team (that would be you! Yes, you!) I want to thank you in advance for your prayers, for the gifts and support as you become a partner in building God’s kingdom, and the time you will take in asking God to lead you to what He has for you.

In faith,           

Vicki Ekberg  

Give us this day

Asking a small group of teens what they think about 9/11 is not as different as you'd expect:

"I think it's stupid!  We should have just dropped the big bomb on their a**es. Nobody should be messin' with us!"

"I think the government is stupid.  They could have stopped it.  They just wanted a reason to crack down on everybody.  My brother says they just want to read our email and listen to our cell phones and lock us up."

"I think you're stupid.  I'm glad that they are doing a memorial so people have a place to come, like a headstone at a grave.  It's important to have a place to go when you miss someone."

"But not everyone one gets a memorial, not everyone gets remembered." (His father had been shot and killed in front of him just 2 month ago by a police officer.)

So I asked her, "Why do you think it's important to have a memorial where we can go to mourn?"

"Because we need to feel close to them.  And maybe close to others that lost, too. Like when you talked to us about God wanting us to know people instead of just judge them.  That it's harder to hate a group when you know someone in it that gives you a different story."

"That doesn't mean that group won't still kill you, though."

"No, but I don't want to live like I'm afraid.  I want to count the good things, the things I can control, like my friends, my family, the people in my life.  I don't want no lairs, or players, or crooks in my life anymore."

"But it's bigger than that!  If I want someone to respect me, than I need to look them in the eye.  They have to see me, not some gang, or school, or group.  They need to know my name."

I asked the group, "What do you think would change if that were true?"

There were no great big solutions that night.  No earth shattering revelations.  Yet, we all shared our points of view, learned something deeper about each other and our world.  I felt the Spirit moving from one to another, to another.  These are the conversations I cherish, because I know if we don't communicate and create community together, we all lose.

Creature Comforts?

I have an old car. It will be 12 in December and I got it new, back in the day. Not a fancy model, just basic window hand cranks, stick shift and factory basics. It gets me from point A to B in an economical fashion, though tall people have complained of cramped quarters.

This is the first year that the a/c gave out, and it's not just about how hot it is outside, it's about the broiling heat of a car interior, in the summer. Grumpy doesn't cover it. I'm not sure even cranky could. Yet the adaptability of humans brought nostalgia of my younger years. I never had air conditioning until well after college.

The earliest vehicle of my experience, I recall didn't even have seat belts, at least to my memory. And now, rolling down my windows for 30mph breezes seemed to invite others to wave or ask a question through my open window at a stop light.

Christ helped me to notice again what flourishes despite adverse conditions. The evenings in my neighborhood are a social event whether for the family or the block. Houses are stifling so you open everything up, including the front door and you move out to the porch. Kids begin playing in the yard or the street, while mom and dad watch out for them and chat together. Parks fill up while dusk lingers and some soccer or picnic dinners take over the grass.

When adverse temperatures meets community disparity, God is often and easily called upon for only He controls the clouds, the evening breeze, a light rain shower. In discomfort, we reach beyond our ruts and our comfort zones to seek relief. Even if it is only to share our concerns and hopes for a change in the weather.

It reminds me all over again that the poor have something to teach. That community doesn't spring from committee, but from connection. God calls us into community, which starts with relationship, light or deep, for He seeks to connect to and with us all. Yet, it is discomfort and faith that are often the only way that we stretch, grow, connect, and learn of a greater treasure than our comfort.

Just listening...

She's twelve and dressed from school in her ratty comfortable clothes and her mother's borrowed high heel shoes. She's explaining to me what teacher's and classes she has this year that she likes and hates. She fills me in on what bullies are back this year & how there was only 5 minutes left to eat after she got through the lunch line.

I only ask an open ended question very rarely because she's become comfortable with what we call our "dump" sessions. Where it's safe to laugh, cry, be mad, or have a ton of questions about things she doesn't want to share with Mom & Dad.

There is always something deeply reveling as I just stay still and listen. "We have to pick two objects to take to our science class that describe us," she says. "I picked a really tiny gun for the violence in my life. I don't have one for sorrow yet. I wish I could just print a sad face off the internet, but mom will be on the computer."

The tragedy is that this isn't a street kid on Colfax. She lives in South Aurora, among the expensive homes & the Cherry Creek School District. Violence in children's lives does not except physical boarders or economic boundaries. I meet at-risk kids everywhere.

Enough to make a tough nut cry...

I don't choose to live a difficult life, that would be stupid.

I don't choose to struggle with finances, worry about things I can't control, the abuses I see every day in ministry to the marginalized. I don't ever want to be a disappointment to my husband, step-kids, parents, family, friends, but I do fail sometimes.

Yet, when I am following the will of God and should I then suffer, that's something else entirely.

It felt like the gentle, convicting, energizing voice of the Holy Spirit speaking through a friend of mine when he said, "ever notice how He can find few who will go into the really hard places? Hard working conditions, hard marriages, hard churches?" Though we were talking generally, it hit me and rang true deep into my heart & mind.

At first it was affirming, urban ministry can be hard. Then it is convicting, marriage can be hard, staying close to my family that doesn't like me, disagreements of ideology, tasks, or even solutions with Christian co-workers. Finally, it evokes in me a deep desire to stay right where God wants me, hard or not, because Christ didn't count the cost it took to find me and save me from my sin and myself.

I tease with a girlfriend a few days later, "I'm a Christian because it's the only religion that would have me after the life I lived." We laughed a little, and inside my soul, I shared a smile with Jesus because the aches & pains turn sweet with time, because of the miles we've walked and the tears we've shared over the years.

My Name is not Those People

I am overwhelmed

I somehow thought this would be easy. With my old passion for writing, my strong opinions, and my desire to communicate...

I have too many excuses and not enough practice. And yet I do. I've written articles for years and shared my passion for ministry with people, in person, for years...

I guess I haven't exposed my own personal thoughts, every day thoughts to any one really, for a very long time...

So pardon the fits and starts. I will be taking up this challenge again! =]

• A death,
• Easter,
• attempt to join bible study deferred,
• spiritual attack on my youngest
• Goggle Apps & iGoogle merging mess that lingered
• stomach flu
• 1 continuation, 2 graduations
• made mother-in-law sick, so felt worse
• personal blog saved
• accountable for shutting down instead of reaching out...

I'm a sinner in need of a lot of grace,
which by it's very definition is undeserved...
Taking a deep breath, and moving forward.

Contritely yours,
Ms V

Automatic Breaking System

I got word just a few days ago; one of my prodigal family had died at age 23.  I hadn’t seen him in a few months, walking around Colfax or Peoria or 11th, and I always do.  He always had a smile and a wave when he recognized my car.  We always took the time to talk when we happened to see each other at the grocery store, or wherever.

Dustin was a light hearted soul, stuck in a world of harsh consequences.  He wanted to be liked so much, that lies and boastfulness became some of his standard tools.

I was just getting to know Dustin, years ago, when I finally got to meet the real young man behind the mask.  He was running toward the locked front door at Coffee House, when I saw him through the glass.  I rushed to meet him.  Unlocking the door, I saw the five kids running after him in the background.  Once inside, I witnessed them stop, talk, and finally walk away.  My eyes closed in thanks to God for turning them around, as my heart rate started to try and settle back down.

Dustin was a mess.  He wasn’t ducking his head in shame, though. He had thrown it back to try to stop his bleeding nose.  It had bled halfway down his shirt, as it was.  Taking stock now, bloody nose, bloody hands from a fall, skinned knees and bare feet.  As I moved to help him, he burst out, “don’t touch the blood, Ms V.”  I took a deep breath and starting praying again as I went to get the medical kit with gloves.

“They got my phone and my shoes,” he worried aloud, “my mom just got them.”  I tried to reassure, even as I was cleaning him up.  However, I didn’t know his mom at all, I couldn’t have said how she would react.  I started with asking about his mom, eventually offering to go in with him, when he talked with her.

This whole situation tore down the walls between Dustin and me.  He let me see the real person behind the defenses he’d built.  That afternoon made us family, and we talked and stayed in touch, even after he stopped coming to Coffee House.

I know relationships built living along Colfax can create some unusual families.  Chosen families that just as often have as many dysfunctions as blood related families do.  Relationships that God uses to shape me, just as much as anything I might say or do shapes others.

Life gets in a rush, here, just like everywhere else.  And in the rush sometimes, I hit a hidden patch of black ice and I lose all traction.  Only Christ gives me that ABS feeling of helping me come to a controlled stop to seek Him in the midst of chaos and loss.

To hear this last week that Dustin had died in January has put the breaks on my life for a time.  He is not the 1^st prodigal teen I have lost to death.  Each teen and each relationship is unique.  Losing Dustin has put me in my Heavenly Father’s arms, aching at this loss.  There are no words for this feeling.  I’m so glad Jesus doesn’t need them to hear my heart.