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! =]