Therefore, go and make disciples?

"Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations,baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you." Matthew 28:19-20

It was Jan/Feb 2005 that our family first learned of H.O.O.I. and their mission to the orphanages of Hogar de Ninos in the Dominican Republic. It was then that my 11 yr old son, Josh, thought this would be "fun". I thought, if I waited long enough, he'd move on to the next "fun" thing as kids do. Well, this one stuck. So as God would have it, Josh and I made our first mission trip (ever) to La Suiza in San Cristobal, DR. I believe that it was here, in this third world country, that I began to truly see what serving was all about. Sure, I was very involved in church; I did alot of things but in my heart I wasn't doing them for the right reasons.

Notice I didn't say the "wrong" reasons? My reasons weren't wrong, they just weren't what I would now call enlightened. I did them out of a sense of duty, not because I wanted to out of my relationship with Jesus. I know who He was alright, but I didn't know him personally. There is a difference you see. And June 2005 was the beginning of my walk with Him ... but I still had a ways to travel.

It's been 5 years now and alot has changed. Some things better than others, some things easier than others. Alot of wonderful memories and alot of valuable lessons. What's that old adage "there can't be a testimony without a test?" So very true. I've had plenty of tests along the way but all in all I'm glad they came because looking back now, I see that God was growing me, stretching me, taking down personal walls so that I could move forward for Him.

One of the smallest things must have happened a while ago, but I just came to actually realize it just this week: I will now allow myself to sing in the car. Sound stupid? It did to me, but then I thought about it. 5+ years ago I was still listening to country music, etal and every time a car passed me on the way to work or whatever, if I was singing I'd stop moving my lips so the person in the car next to me wouldn't think I was crazy. It sounds extremely stupid now that I look back, but it was true! I didn't like people seeing me sing in my car - even if they couldn't hear me. My faith was the same way back then. I had it to myself or my family, but when someone else came up my lips quit moving. I couldn't let them see or hear me. Then I started listening to Christian music stations and CDs, and before I knew it (which maybe isn't great safety wise)I was so wrapped up in listening to the words of the songs and feeling them in my heart, that I was singing along all the time. I had become oblivious to the looks, fingers and laughter from the cars passing me. I didn't care if people heard me talk about my faith. I was now becoming comfortable in my christian skin.

That's when God decided to kick me up one more notch. Feb 2007 I made my "Walk to Emmaus." I would have to say that renewed me and completed my transformation. I had come from a caterpillar into a chrysalis where I felt safe all wrapped up in Holy love. However, Emmaus broke open that chrysalis and let the butterfly emerge.

Today, I still do alot, but I'm doing it for totally different reasons. I have also learned when to say "not right now". Last year, I had to say not now when I passed on making the DR trip in 2008. God was slowing me down again - intentionally. I worked on the domestic side in 2008, helping to recognize fledgling disciples right here in my own back yard. Now it's time for a recharge again. I find La Suiza to be very "centering" for me. I have a very hard time quieting my spirit to hear what He wants me to hear. Right now, I really need that. God allows me to hear His voice very strongly when I'm there. I thinks it's the simplicity of life and the complete stillness of the nights that allow me to Hear him. The bare walls of a chapel that fill with praise as the boys play their drums and graters to their chant-like songs, all the while wearing big smiles.

So, go and make disciples? I'm sure it's happening for the boys, but I'm even more certain that it's happening for us - the "missionaries." The following creed was shared with our reunion group a couple of weeks ago. This is the Masai Creed - a people of Kenya and Tanzania - and it spoke to me so simply, like the DR does. The Masai Creed was composed in about 1960 by Western Christian missionaries for the Masai people of East Africa. The missionaries were from the Congregation of the Holy Ghost . The creed attempts to express the essentials of the Christian faith within the Masai culture.

We believe in the one High God, who out of love created the beautiful world and everything good in it. He created man and wanted man to be happy in the world. God loves the world and every nation and tribe on the earth. We have known this High God in the darkness, and now we know him in the light. God promised in the book of his word, the Bible, that he would save the world and all the nations and tribes.

We believe that God made good his promise by sending his son, Jesus Christ, a man in the flesh, a Jew by tribe, born poor in a little village, who left his home and was always on safari doing good, curing people by the power of God, teaching about God and man, showing that the meaning of religion is love. He was rejected by his people, tortured and nailed hands and feet to a cross, and died. He lay buried in the grave, but the hyenas did not touch him, and on the third day, he rose from the grave. He ascended to the skies. He is the Lord.

We believe that all our sins are forgiven through him. All who have faith in him must be sorry for their sins, be baptized in the Holy Spirit of God, live the rules of love, and share the bread together in love, to announce the good news to others until Jesus comes again. We are waiting for him. He is alive. He lives. This we believe.

Amen.

"Because Jesus asked me to."

I've had a lot of people asking me lately, "why do you do it?" Or "how do you do it?" Or "how do you find enough time in the day?" How's that old adage go ... if you want to get something done, ask a busy person ...

My family, especially my mom, classifies me as "that busy person." She has a hard time understanding why I feel compelled to stay so busy, especially in the ways that I have chosen. She knows that the organizations or issues that I work with "are worth it," but she hasn't quite taken hold of what drives me to say yes or offer to assist. I know in my heart that she knows about Jesus and I believe that she believes in Heaven, but she's missing the relationship part. In essence, she knows about the beginning and the end, but she's missing everything inbetween.

There are a lot of people in our lives like my mom. They're not bad, they've just seen the trailer or the "sneak peek" and that's all they know. They haven't taken the time to sit down and watch the whole story. It would be like describing the movie Castaway as a guy gets on a plane, it crashes and he gets rescued in the end. You have the gist of the whole story, but so much happens inbetween - it's actually the meat of the story. And it's this part that defines us, shapes us, gives us guidance and a purpose in our life. I used to be a wanderer too, but I was blessed to be given an opportunity to "see the rest of the story." To me, it has made all the difference in the world - in my world - and how I order my life.

In my yesterdays, I was worried about things (possessions) and how I appeared to those around me. Now, I worry about others and how I can give them a hand-up, how I can show them love - especially agape love, and what kind of difference that will make in their life. My family works together to make a difference in our community and in the worldwide community. If we know of a need, we work together to fill it.

Much of our focus is centered around children and families. I am the product of a broken home as my parents divorced in the early 70's. There was still a stigma to divorce at that time and I felt it very much when the parents of my friends would ask about mine. I tried to avoid it at all costs. My closest friends knew, but that was it. My mom worked 2 jobs to keep us in our home and fed. We never went without and we were also very fortunate to have maternal grandparents close that helped out as well. My husband, on the other extreme, is from a home of 4 children with parents who are still married today, after 50+ years. They traveled on summer vacations as a family going to places I only dreamed of. So when we decided to get married, we promised that it was for life. So far, we've been married 23 years and counting - quite an accomplishment in today's society. However, unlike our days of growing up, we've had the opportunity to share with our son what the world really looks like out there. We volunteer with Family Promise, helping to keep homeless families together during the worst circumstances. We've also traveled on mission to the Dominican Republic, staying at and working for the orphanages of Hogar de Ninos. Josh sees his own life, but he has also been exposed to the "realities" of the rest of this world. He shares this point of view with his friends and peers. Some of the kids label him as a bit "eclectic". I look at him as well-rounded.

I received a devotional via email the other day. It's from Life Support and it's written by Steve Goodier. If you don't subscribe to these, you should. I'd like to share this one as it speaks directly to why I - we - do the things we do. And if you'd like to know how I found out the rest of the story, please ask me! Enjoy!

There are few things in this life more difficult to experience than the loss of one's child. Jim Wallis, in WHO SPEAKS FOR GOD tells about a sad and terrifying incident that occurred during the tragic war in Sarajevo not too many years back.

A reporter who was covering the violence in the middle of the city, saw a little girl fatally shot by a sniper. The reporter threw down his pad and pencil and rushed to the aid of a man who was now holding the child. He helped them both into his car and sped off to a hospital.

"Hurry, my friend," the man urged, "my child is still alive." A momentor two later he pleaded, "Hurry, my friend, my child is still breathing." A little later he said, "Hurry, my friend, my child is still warm."

When they got to the hospital, the young girl was gone. "This is a terrible task for me," the distraught man said to the reporter. "I must go tell her father that his child is dead. He will be heartbroken." The reporter was amazed. He looked at the grieving man and said, "I thought she was YOUR child." The man replied, "No, but aren't they all our children?"

I think that is one of the great questions of our age. Aren't they all our children? It is a question that deserves an answer.

Aren't they all our children? Those who live under our roof and those who reside with another family? Those to whom we are related as well as those whom we have never known?

Aren't they all our children? Those on our side of the border as well as those on the other side? Those of our nation no more or less than those of another?

Aren't they all our children? Those who worship like us and those who worship differently? Those who look like us and those who do not?

Aren't they all our children? The well-educated and the under-educated? The well-fed and the under-fed? Those who are secure and those who are at risk?

Aren't they all our children? The highly valued and highly esteemed as well as the castaways and the lost?

Aren't they all our children? Aren't they all our responsibility? ALL of them? Ours to nurture? Ours to protect? Ours to love?

I don't think it is an exaggeration to say that the survival of our world hinges on the answer to that question. To say they are NOT all our children is to condemn the world to more struggle – family against family, group against group, nation against nation.

Aren't they all our children? If we say yes, can we ever again pit them against each other? "If we have no peace," said Mother Teresa," it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other."

Aren't they all our children? There may be no greater question for our generation. And how we answer that question will determine the shape of our world for years to come.

Footprints - Not what you think

First of all, Happy Mother's Day to all you moms, mother-in-laws and mothers-to-be out there. God has placed an awesome gift in your care ... be careful with it!

Last weekend Josh, who will be 16 in June, attended Heart of Suncoast Chrysalis Boys Flight #16. I took him up Saturday morning to get him registered, leaving him in the care of the weekend Lay Director along with 10 other caterpillars. As a mom, aren't we always apprehensive about leaving our kids alone, even when we know they will be safe - at least physically.

But what about spiritually? Sometimes - actually alot of times - we can't be sure they'll be spiritually safe. We do our best to know their friends and their families. However, we never can be sure that they are totally safe from harm. Sometimes they have to experience (or re-experience) pain and sorrow to grow. After all, how can there be a testimony if there is no test, right? But as a mom, we try to shelter our kids from that pain. We'd rather they not hear about it, see it or experience it until it's absolutely necessary or totally unavoidable. That is when we have to depend upon Christ to lead them down the right paths - or maybe it's leading US down the right path?

When Josh was just 12, I took him with me on a mission trip to the Dominican Republic. We didn't go out and work with the people then retire to a nice comfy hotel with A/C, running water and "tourist food" each evening. No, we stayed at the orphanage with the children. We slept on cots infested with bed bugs, no running water, no electricity. No phones and no televisions. Just a rustic basketball court with hoops at each end and a big open field to run and play in. As we drove from the Santo Domingo airport out to San Cristobal, we passed piles of garbage on the sides of the streets, families of five sandwiched onto motor scooters made for one, "homes" made out of cardboard and corrugated tin roofs on mountainsides that looked like they could just slide away at a moment's notice. Livestock running loose thru streets and roadside shanties that had goats and all manner of fowl (plus some stuff that was unidentifiable to me) hanging on ropes for sale. I suddenly had this wave of urgency come over me - had I just brought my son into the middle of a National Geographic magazine?

Yes, I had. But I had also just exposed him to life as a majority of this planet knows it. We are so blessed in the US and we don't even know it! We take for granted that tap water that is ALWAYS there when we turn on a faucet. Or that refrigerator/freezer that we keep our food in that we purchase at sanitary grocery stores. Or that light bulb that always burns bright when we flip a switch to read any book that is readily available to us online, at the store or at your neighborhood library. How about that comfy pillow and bed you retire to every evening?

These kids had no idea what they were "missing", yet they were happy. And not only happy ... they were full of God's joy, love and grace. How shocked were we when we realized that we were not the ministers ... these kids were very powerful ministers teaching us life stories about the simple and most important things in life! What a humbling experience! And best of all, that trip and the one the following year that we made back to that orphanage remains in Josh's heart permanently.

Many times we have walked into a grocery store to be greeted by the aroma of fried chicken. "Mom," he tells me, "every time I smell fried chicken now I automatically think of the DR and the kids. That was the best fried chicken I've ever had. I wonder how they are doing?" We continue to remember these precious faces in our prayers and I know Josh is a much more humble, caring young man because of this experience. I also know - for sure - that he walks with his Maker closer and closer as he matures in life and in his faith.

This little poem was sent to me and it made me think of the story I just told you. I hope you enjoy!

Imagine you and the Lord Jesus are walking down the road together. For much of the way, the Lord's footprints go along steadily, consistently, rarely varying the pace. But your footprints are a disorganized stream of zigzags, starts, stops, turnarounds, circles, departures, and returns. For much of the way, it seems to go like this, but gradually your footprints come more in line with the Lord's, soon paralleling, His consistently. You and Jesus are walking as true friends! This seems perfect, but then an interesting thing happens: Your footprints that once etched the sand next to Jesus' are now walking precisely in His steps. Inside His larger footprints are your smaller ones, you and Jesus are becoming one. This goes on for many miles, but gradually you notice another change. The footprints inside the large footprints seem to grow larger. Eventually they disappear altogether. There is only one set of footprints. They have become one. This goes on for a long time, but suddenly the second set of footprints is back. This time it seems even worse! Zigzags all over the place. Stops. Starts. Gashes in the sand. A variable mess of prints.You are amazed and shocked. Your dream ends. Now you pray:

"Lord, I understand the first scene, with zigzags and fits. I was a new Christian; I was just learning. But You walked on through the storm and helped me learn to walk with You."

'That is correct.'

"And when the smaller footprints were inside of Yours, I was actually learning to walk in Your steps, following You very closely.."

'Very good.. You have understood everything so far..'

"When the smaller footprints grew and filled in Yours, I suppose that I was becoming like You in every way."

'Precisely.'

"So, Lord, was there a regression or something ? The footprints separated, and this time it was worse than at first."

There is a pause as the Lord answers, with a smile in His voice. 'You didn't know? It was then that we danced!'

I hope you take the time to dance! Lisa

Meditation from Good Friday on Luke 23:46

Luke 23:46 Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’ Having said this, he breathed his last.

By all accounts, Jesus didn’t do a lot of talking on the cross. It was as if he were alone in his pain -- silent for the many hours he hung there, except for a very few words. But these 7 Last Words of Christ from the Cross provide a window into Jesus' nature, a way to understand through his own last words what is ultimately important to this One who is dying on the cross. These Words reveal his incredible love, his determination, his humanity as well as his divinity, his intimate relationship with his Father, and finally his trust.

As we contemplate that death, and the final word He utters just before He gives up His Spirit, it might be appropriate for us to remember a time when the Lord spoke with Moses. He placed Himself in a burning bush, which didn’t burn up. And God told Moses before He would speak to him, that he should remove his sandals. Do you remember why? Because this place, said the Lord, is holy ground. Right now, while I am here in this burning bush that doesn’t burn, this isn’t just any ol’ bush; this isn’t just any ol’ mountain. This isn’t just dirt you are standing on. I am here; and that makes the very ground you stand upon holy and reverent. Take off your shoes, Moses.

Holy ground is not human-centered ground. It is God-centered ground, and is therefore more than the ecstasy of a breathtaking scenic vista or a history-making event. It is a place where the holy God, in the biblical words, “comes down” and makes Himself known to human beings. It is a place of reverence, awe and even of holy fear … a place where heaven and earth meet. It is a place of encounter; not where we encounter God, but where first and foremost God encounters us. It is a place where God in his self-initiating love calls us by name and declares to us that we are wholly and completely his beloved children. Holy ground is a place, an experience, where God calls us, surprises us, shocks us, challenges us, empowers us and ultimately transforms us.

However, holy ground is not only spiritually quickening. It is also spiritually challenging. For when we find ourselves standing on holy ground, God does not permit us to bask in its glow for long. God calls us to action. God commissions us to undertake the holy work of his divine plan. The past two years my walk with our Lord has been much deeper. He has challenged me and grown me in ways I did not expect. Not always did I go willingly, nor have I served in ways that were comfortable to me. Nevertheless, with His call to holy action comes an even more powerful holy promise - God’s promise to Moses, “I will be with you.” God does not call Moses, and God does not call us, to bear the burdens of His holy work alone. God promises to be there for us, to stand beside us and to walk with us each step of the way. This does not necessarily make our holy work any less daunting, less challenging or even lessen the prospects of failure. However, it does make our holy work for God grace-filled and love-empowered, for we have the divine reassurance of God’s abiding presence, God’s wise guidance and the matchless resources of God’s love at our side. We also bear the knowledge that in such holy work, God does not call us to be successful; God only calls us to be faithful.

Just last night at Maundy Thursday services, we experienced this holy ground. For me personally, it was the first time I have participated in a foot washing ceremony. I have avoided these for years; why, I do not know. But this year, I felt compelled to participate – challenged by the Holy Spirit in my heart. Jesus gave us one of his last commandments when he washed the feet of his disciples – “So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.” But who is “one another”? Is it limited to certain people because Jesus’ example occurred in a secluded area with his disciples? Does it mean only our friends and family? Or church? Or community? No, I believe that Jesus meant to include others outside of our “circle of comfort”. What Jesus says can apply both to earthly relationships of masters and servants as well as to our relationship to Christ. We can see in the pages of the gospels that it also describes how Jesus approached His relationship with God the Father. He was always submissive to the Father in everything. Beyond this, God the Father is the greatest servant. On our behalf, He sustains everything we depend on for our very lives.

God has not given us the command to take off our shoes, but the point of Moses taking off his sandals was to show that he understood that this was no ordinary mountain. This is no simple church tonight in the sleepy town of Palmetto. This is not ordinary carpet anymore. This isn’t a simple pulpit surrounded with banners and wood. God has come in the person of Jesus, to speak to us … here. That makes this place “holy ground.” And we too, should show that this is no ordinary cross from which Christ speaks. So, rather than take off our shoes, let us take off our sins. Let us take off our pride. For this cross – this blood, sweat and tear-stained cross, is Holy ground where God confronts us, shocks us, challenges us, empowers us and ultimately transforms us.

This is a critical point for us this evening, because Christ is not about to die as a natural outcome of being crucified. This is a voluntary act. The thieves to his right and left had not yet died. How is it that Jesus is going to die already? It is well known that crucifixions usually take anywhere from 24 to 48 hours for a person to die, and quite often they can hang there for nearly a week before dying. How is it that Jesus is about to breathe his last after only six hours? Did they pound the spikes in deeper with him than with the thieves? No. He was crucified just like the others, and others before and after Him.

Jesus did not meet death as others do. Jesus met death as death’s conqueror. With a loud voice, Jesus gave up his spirit, showing that He was not compelled to die, but that He willingly submitted to death for our sake. Death did not meet Him; He met death. As He had said in the Garden of Gethsemane, He could easily have rescued Himself with more than twelve legions of angels, had He so desired.

He spoke very plainly before ever coming to the cross: “I lay down my life freely; no man takes it from me. I have the power to lay it down, and I have the power to take it up again.” And now, this evening, with His dying breath we hear our Lord shout, “Father, into thy hands, I commend my Spirit.” They don’t take it from me, but I give it of myself! No wonder that heathen centurion finally admitted, “Surely, this Man was the Son of God!”

And yet, there’s an ironic twist to be found here. Jesus borrowed this line again from David. Just as He prayed the first line of the 22nd Psalm, “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken me?” here too Jesus borrows a line from Psalm 31. David was in the midst of a conspiracy so powerful that even his friends had abandoned him. Little did he know that he was living out what our Lord would later endure. Therefore, David, and now our Lord too, cries out, “Father, into thy hands, I commend my spirit.” It leads us to wonder whether our Lord was selecting Psalm 31 as a legacy for us. That entire Psalm is about enduring broken relationships and affliction and sorrow; and how the Lord is our stay as we endure them. Certainly, Jesus had experienced these things, but here in his dying breath, perhaps He is teaching us yet one last time. As he commends His Spirit to His Father, He purposely offers Psalm 31 to us. The original context for Jesus’ simple prayer “Into your hands I commend my spirit” was a strong affirmation of God’s faithfulness and redemption. By quoting from Psalm 31, Jesus is not only entrusting his spirit to God, but also reaffirming his ultimate trust in God, even the God who has laid upon him the sin of the world. Moreover, the fact that Jesus continues to address God as “Father” indicates his unwavering confidence in the One he has known so intimately and served so faithfully.

Throughout our lives, we rely on all sorts of things. We begin life fully dependent on our parents. Along the way, we learn to trust others and, of course, we come to trust ourselves the most. For we who believe that we are firmly in control, this may be the most radical statement of a life transformed by faith that we find in the gospels. Jesus frees himself from the illusion of control and places his life in the hands of God. The desire for control in one’s own life seems harmless enough, but Jesus understands that it is this desire that keeps us from loving not only God but also our neighbors. Thinking that we can control our future, we seize any opportunity to take more than we need, more than our fair share, and it is our neighbors who are truly in need who suffer as a result. Thinking that we can guarantee our own fulfillment, we live a life of relentless pursuit that does not have time for acts of neighborly generosity. Thinking that we can supply our own salvation, we become violent defenders of all that that threatens our sense of stability and security. However, Jesus commends his Spirit to the only one with the power to give salvation. Jesus shows us that the gracious life of faith is marked not by control but by submission, not by self-confidence but by humble trust that the one who created will also redeem, that the one who breathed life at the beginning will continue to breathe life in the end, in ways that we cannot understand or imagine.

However, in the end, we put our ultimate trust in God and in God alone. We realize we can’t save ourselves. We can’t make eternal life happen. We can’t defeat death. We can’t earn our redemption. So, like David in Psalm 31, and like Jesus in Luke 23, we put our lives into the hands of God. Yet we do so with a peculiar confidence. We know that, in the mystery of the Trinity, God’s hands are not only strong, but also vulnerable. They’re not only healing, but wounded. The hands of Jesus, pierced on the cross, are the very hands of God. Into these hands, we can trust ourselves completely, knowing that they’ll always be there to catch us, both in life and in death.

As I reflect upon this final word of Jesus from the cross, I am struck, Gracious Father, by the fact that this is my prayer too. To be sure, my situation is far from that of Your Son, and I'm hopeful that I still have many more days before my life's end. But, even still, at the end of all my striving, all my thinking, all my efforts, all my attempts to figure everything out, all my deeds, both good and bad, what do I have left but to trust You?

Thou must save, dear God, and Thou alone. I have nothing to offer You, but my trust in You to save me. So, like Jesus, I commend my spirit to You today, to rely on You, to believe in You, to live for You, until that day when I stand before You, with nothing in my hand but the cross.

How good it is to know, dear Lord, that the cross was not the end for you. As you entrusted your spirit into the Father's hands, you did so in anticipation of what was to come. So we reflect upon your death, not in despair, but in hope. With Good Friday behind us, Easter Sunday is clearly on the horizon.