Have you ever wondered what it would be like to go back and revise all the little things you did... those things you shared out of pure innocence or safe trust, but after the fact you realize that your actions... as honest and pure as your intentions were... your actions weren't understood and caused injury through the misunderstanding of motives questioned and filters marred by the experience of your Love's past hurts.
What if we all could just communicate?
Sift through things together, as a community?
Why do we have to be such isolationists, burrowing holes deep into our hearts, shoving all our emotions deep down- hoping to cover them up with fine sounding phrases laced in spiritual overtones?
That's when those phrases turn up empty-- when you use them for your own hiding, for the times you can't reason or hope to understand the situation at hand. When you can't believe what you've been holding onto so fervently-- faith. Certain of what you hope for and do not yet see.
And this... this is when it's best said : "I don't know... let's talk about it. Let's share life-- for all it's hurts, pain, joy and amazing love. Let's share life together."
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Lover of my soul: Healer of my scars
I remember the first day I met Kari. Working at CFNI (Christ For The Nations), organizing worship conferences and the like, you meet alot of people that everyone else is swooning over... and yes, those super-spiritual in the Christian circles swoon like everyone else when they meet a Kim Walker, Brian and Jenn Johnson or whoever else is considered 'famous' in the Christian world.
About 2 years ago, while preparing for a worship conference, Kari came up to me, hugged me really hard and said "Nicole! I've missed you, how are you?" Yeah... she thought I was my twin sister, who was the event coordinator (aka: boss) for the worship conferences/ recordings at CFNI. But in that moment, I noticed her genuine interest and pure concern for others. She wasn't like alot (need I say ALOT again?) of the christian speakers that were invited to CFNI- the ones to thought they were too good for everyone else, who had that nasty attitude that made you never ever want to invite them back. She was true and real.
So, since then I've had this distant respect for the sweet girl who thought I was my twin sister.
Good song for the day today.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
remember the poor
it was displayed on your shirt.
stamped on the law of your mind,
written on those impressionable places in your heart.
your heart for those hurting intrigues me...
it used to intrigue me because i saw such passion, listened to such love
but now
now i am intrigued
by the display of duty
when all along those closest to you
are cut by your inaction
by the way you run away from the difficult battles
those battles that can only be won by you
the love you have to give
the hope you long to impart
won by cultivating the seeds of hope you imparted, the seeds of love you gave
but only backed away. quit. gave up. stopped.
you said you weren't willing to keep investing in something you didn't see going any further. too late.
it already went "farther". and with your arousal. your pursuit. daily. with our 3 hour conversations, our letters, our skype conversations. our talks about ministry, marriage and life, likes and dislikes. what we would do when we were finally together. you can't erase what you've already sparked to life, given permission to detailed planning.
but don't forget... remember the poor
stamped on the law of your mind,
written on those impressionable places in your heart.
your heart for those hurting intrigues me...
it used to intrigue me because i saw such passion, listened to such love
but now
now i am intrigued
by the display of duty
when all along those closest to you
are cut by your inaction
by the way you run away from the difficult battles
those battles that can only be won by you
the love you have to give
the hope you long to impart
won by cultivating the seeds of hope you imparted, the seeds of love you gave
but only backed away. quit. gave up. stopped.
you said you weren't willing to keep investing in something you didn't see going any further. too late.
it already went "farther". and with your arousal. your pursuit. daily. with our 3 hour conversations, our letters, our skype conversations. our talks about ministry, marriage and life, likes and dislikes. what we would do when we were finally together. you can't erase what you've already sparked to life, given permission to detailed planning.
but don't forget... remember the poor
Monday, January 9, 2012
Blessed are the poor in spirit....
Not many people know... and some even act surprised... when they find out that I once opened my home to a lady who was homeless on the streets of downtown Pensacola, Fl. Just recently someone heard that I had done this and was shocked. Confused, I wondered... "I thought this was what everyone would do if they could."
The experience was a life-changing one. I set out to help her... help her get a job, to find her love for the Lord again, and clear her name with the police. But she helped me. Helped me see that life and the problems that come aren't as easily recovered from as our formulas or government programs say they should be. Although we idealists like to see it as such, it's really not. Here in the West, in our individualistic mindset, we compartmentalize so many things, and people for that matter. But there's something so simple and unique about the friends I made on the streets.
It all began one weekend in the fall, I had just returned from a summer in Michigan volunteering on the weekends with an outreach called "Adopt-A-Block". I wanted to share something like this with those in Florida. So, every Saturday for 2 years, 10 of my friends and I would go down to the place under the interstate... with home-cooked meals (good meals) made from the money we'd all put together.
That first Saturday a good 150-200 homeless people showed up to the downtown park where we first decided to meet. We made fliers the previous week inviting everyone we saw on the streets who needed a meal... the word spread quickly. The police came out because the downtown store owners complained that there were so many homeless people in their park... afraid they would cause the businesses money. So, the following Saturday we moved to a place under the interstate. We would sit out there for a good 3-4 hours every Saturday, just getting to know everyone... intently listening to their stories and sharing in their laughter, and their tears. Oftentimes the guys would take the men that stayed around out to play paint-ball or go see a movie and have dinner, and the ladies would reach out to the other ladies, through bringing them home with us for the evening, finding clothes for them and a good pair of shoes.
As time went on, so many amazing relationships were forged. And in their eyes I could see hope and that simple faith, that no matter how bad things got for them, they knew with every part of their being, that God was there for them. That He would protect and care for them.Many of the men decided they were going to return to the families they had left and begin building relationships with their children and wife that they had been running from for so many years. It wasn't easy, but they resolved to know that their strength came from Christ alone and He was nudging them to reconcile and love their families.
Many of the homeless that came out to the interstate started sharing with us that there were others, those who never ventured out, who they wanted us to meet. So, the guys in our group went first, and found a whole community living in tents down on the bay- in a little place nestled away from everything. Nearly everyone was addicted to drugs and alcohol. They lived on the water, in tents, caring for one another and tending to their addictions. We would go down there on Sundays to visit with them and share a meal with them. Many weekends when we weren't studying for our college exams, we would go down and spend the night on the beach with them, have bonfires, catch fish in the bay and have fish fries with them. I remember one night it was so incredibly cold, I tried to sleep, and I think I did for a bit, but when I woke up my body was so tense from shivering trying to keep warm. There was one man down there I'll never forget. His name was Pineapple... well, that's what everyone called him because he was from Hawaii and ended up in Pensacola after his time in the military. Everyone said he would never change. That he would be down there the rest of his life....
(to be continued)...
"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." ~Matthew 5:3
The experience was a life-changing one. I set out to help her... help her get a job, to find her love for the Lord again, and clear her name with the police. But she helped me. Helped me see that life and the problems that come aren't as easily recovered from as our formulas or government programs say they should be. Although we idealists like to see it as such, it's really not. Here in the West, in our individualistic mindset, we compartmentalize so many things, and people for that matter. But there's something so simple and unique about the friends I made on the streets.
It all began one weekend in the fall, I had just returned from a summer in Michigan volunteering on the weekends with an outreach called "Adopt-A-Block". I wanted to share something like this with those in Florida. So, every Saturday for 2 years, 10 of my friends and I would go down to the place under the interstate... with home-cooked meals (good meals) made from the money we'd all put together.
That first Saturday a good 150-200 homeless people showed up to the downtown park where we first decided to meet. We made fliers the previous week inviting everyone we saw on the streets who needed a meal... the word spread quickly. The police came out because the downtown store owners complained that there were so many homeless people in their park... afraid they would cause the businesses money. So, the following Saturday we moved to a place under the interstate. We would sit out there for a good 3-4 hours every Saturday, just getting to know everyone... intently listening to their stories and sharing in their laughter, and their tears. Oftentimes the guys would take the men that stayed around out to play paint-ball or go see a movie and have dinner, and the ladies would reach out to the other ladies, through bringing them home with us for the evening, finding clothes for them and a good pair of shoes.
As time went on, so many amazing relationships were forged. And in their eyes I could see hope and that simple faith, that no matter how bad things got for them, they knew with every part of their being, that God was there for them. That He would protect and care for them.Many of the men decided they were going to return to the families they had left and begin building relationships with their children and wife that they had been running from for so many years. It wasn't easy, but they resolved to know that their strength came from Christ alone and He was nudging them to reconcile and love their families.
Many of the homeless that came out to the interstate started sharing with us that there were others, those who never ventured out, who they wanted us to meet. So, the guys in our group went first, and found a whole community living in tents down on the bay- in a little place nestled away from everything. Nearly everyone was addicted to drugs and alcohol. They lived on the water, in tents, caring for one another and tending to their addictions. We would go down there on Sundays to visit with them and share a meal with them. Many weekends when we weren't studying for our college exams, we would go down and spend the night on the beach with them, have bonfires, catch fish in the bay and have fish fries with them. I remember one night it was so incredibly cold, I tried to sleep, and I think I did for a bit, but when I woke up my body was so tense from shivering trying to keep warm. There was one man down there I'll never forget. His name was Pineapple... well, that's what everyone called him because he was from Hawaii and ended up in Pensacola after his time in the military. Everyone said he would never change. That he would be down there the rest of his life....
(to be continued)...
"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." ~Matthew 5:3
Friday, January 6, 2012
pearls
Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow; he who would search for pearls must dive below.
John Dryden: 1631 All for Love prologue
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
quotes
“I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.”
― Marilyn Monroe
― Marilyn Monroe
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