Right Where it Should Be

I was sorting through my old papers and bundling up what I am choosing to save of my college career thus far. This is a part of my giant effort to sort out, weed out and throw out what is not needed in my bedroom. See, I'm planning on moving out from this little college apartment that I have called my home for the past two years. Prior to my move-out date, somewhere near the end of July, I'd like to get some of my things sorted out and organized so I know exactly what I do and do not have to contribute to my next phase of life. Granted, I'll still be in college, but I will, for the first time ever, be living "on my own" [off campus] with a chosen roomate and communting to school. Slowly, throughout next year, my focus will shift toward preparing to leave instead of the prep for my Senior year [the big one] that I have done in the past.

In my shuffling through old school papers and old sermon notes I found this quote that I heard at Apex sometime early last year. This quote is regarding an English missionary who is heading-up a missionary journey to central Africa. Read these words slowly to soak in the faith of this man:

"I want to remind the committee that within six months they will probably hear that some one of us is dead. Yes, is it likely that eight Englishmen should start for Central Africa and still be alive six months after? Some of us at least-and it may be I- will surely fall before that. When the news comes, do not be cast down, but send someone else immediately to take the vacant place."

- Alexander McKay

This man's heart is focused on the glory of God's name so far above even the thought of his own name. He pales in comparison to the work that our Lord has placed before us.

It still stuns me to read this quote and puts my heart right where it should be, focused on my Savior's glory, not my temporaries.

This is all so temporary, but the work of the Lord lies before us, ready to be completed.

May I be focused on the work He gives me as change comes to my life.

I look forward to upcoming opportunity to serve the One I love.

My God, thank you.

I love You.

Belonging to God

(All names have been changed for the protection of the clients at the Other Place.)

Today was just like any other day at The Other Place. The normal crowd of homeless men and women were sprawled out in the small waiting room area. One man sat in his blue plastic chair and laughed, “I’m just waiting it out until my appointment.” He told me through brown crooked teeth. “What time is your appointment, Sir?” I asked, hoping to remind him that the social workers were in a staff meeting until one o’clock, so he’d be waiting for a while since it was currently ten in the morning. “Oh,” He spoke casually, “My appointment’s Monday at three.”

Eleven thirty arrived before I knew it and the familiar voice rose above the crowd, “Clean up time, ladies and gentlemen. It’s time to move outside until noon. You can come back in at noon, but only the clean-up crew is allowed in the building. Let’s go.” The daytime shelter manager’s deep voice bellowed above the television and mild conversations. The slow shuffle for the door began as the manager moved through the crowd securing cleaning supplies and motivating those who were less than motivated to leave their firm plastic napping chairs.

Mops flooded the floors and bleach burned away the overbearing stench coming from the deadly combination of days without showers and warm sunshine. After wiping down the counter, I sat back down in my computer chair, watching the ballet of homeless men fighting mops and women attempting to look busy so as not to be released from their cleaning duty. That’s when I saw her in the security camera. Soon the buzz came at the door. I pushed the magic unlocking button that seems to consume most of my daily activities. First two wheels, then four came in the door as the $5 Wal-Mart stroller wheeled inside. Turned around and strapped into this flimsy, filthy stroller was an old infant carseat.

“What’s she doing in here? Why didn’t she go in the family entrance?” Complaining Martha was at it again. But in wheeled what our society would classify as a meager attempt at child safety. Not a peep came from the scratchy free-store knit baby blanket in the carseat. The mother just walked on through the facility and soon was gone behind closed doors.

I want to hold the baby. Came through my mind. Poverty does not equal unloved in my mind and I want to hold that little one.

I had heard about the twenty day old child earlier that morning and was hoping for my chance to break free from the single’s entrance front desk and find a brief baby-holding session in the family room at the rear of the Other Place. That’s when a blessing came by.

Out of the back door came mom, holding her little one on her shoulder. His tiny feet dangled and his small body squirmed with discomfort.
“Can I hold him?” I asked when she reached the front.
“Yes.” She spoke with relief in her eyes.

She handed his frail little body across the counter with ease as if he was made of steal. I held him close and he happily seeped into my arms. “What’s his name?” I asked her breaking away from the baby for a second.
“Dominic.” (Translation: ‘belonging to God’)
“Hey there little guy?” I spoke as he squinted his eyes at me.
“That baby should be wrapped up, the air is on.” Martha chimed in.

I cradled him close, wrapping my long-sleeves around his tiny feet and legs to shield him from the air vent draft. He snuggled into my shirt, squirming with a bit of discomfort, but settling back into the heat coming from my skin. His purple little fingernails grasped onto my shirt and he wiggled to get closer to me. His mom handed a pacifier over the counter and walked to get something to drink.

Thus began a half an hour interlude to my work at the Other Place. Dominic’s mother rested and socialized with friends, grateful for the break. I soon found out that Dominic was his mother’s third child and Dominic’s father had four other children with a different woman. Dominic wiggled uncomfortably every five minutes or so, but soon settled down with a change in position and much back patting. Then his little face turned sour and I knew crying would be soon to come. Poor little Dominic was hungry. I looked up for his mom just in time to hear a conversation;
“Thought you were going to order a pizza, Eric? Where’s that pizza?” Dominic’s mother half-teased the shelter manager.
“Oh, yeah…? A pizza, huh? Yeah… about that…” Eric lightheartedly half-teased this woman back.
“I saw that twenty in your pocket. You know you want to buy a pizza.” Came the response.
“A twenty, huh? No Mame… that was uh… that was my birth certificate.” Eric lied with a laugh.

The teasing persisted until Dominic’s mother spoke with a slightly greater intensity than before. When she received dead-ends with Eric, she turned and asked aloud, “So what church is open today to serve lunch?”
“It’s over there posted on that board.” I pointed to a bulletin board, still holding her son.
“Woman, you only got 10 minutes til them places close down.” A man called out from the crowd of workers who had since then completed their cleaning and were lounging around the front desk.

Dominic’s mother sat down at the front desk and watched another woman eat Chinese food that she had pitched in with three others to purchase. Dominic’s mother’s eyes hazed over as she watched.
“Hey, hey…” Eric spoke in a quiet voice. “You want come Pringles?” Eric offered his lunch.
The woman’s eyes lit up. “Yeah,” she jumped at the opportunity.
She smiled after eating two chips at a time for a little bit.
“Thanks man.” She spoke with great gratitude. “This is my lunch and dinner,” she beamed as she caught my eye.

Dominic called out for his mother. “I’ve got a little left for you, Dominic.” She spoke as she received the child back from me. And then she walked outside with Pringle can, Dominic and pacifier at hand. Eric carried on socializing with other clients, knowing he’d never see that Pringle can again. I caught a smile on tough Eric's face as he caught a glimsp of the mother walking out the front door.

Good! morning

Goodmorning Lord.

Thank you for your day.

Thank you that I may get the chance to serve you.

Thank you that you are constant when I change daily.

Thank you that you are faithful when I waiver hourly.

Thank you that you forgive when I sin by the second.

Lord, thank you that you are Lord,

that I may be relieved of the burden of running my life.

Lord, please help me to de-throne myself.

Lord, you are breath

Lord, you are life

thank you that it is in abundance this morning.

Thank you, Lord, for peaceful sleep.

Thank you, Lord, for defeating temptations.

Thank you, Lord, for defeating darkness...

my darkness.

Lord, thank you for the cross,

that I may look upon your horizon

knowing the world is open to me

because you have said "go".

Lord, help me to be satisfied in the "everyday" life.

Lord, help me seek you in the humdrum.

Lord be my refuge when the rains come.

Lord, strip me of my selfishness,

give me open hands to serve you.

Lord, convince my heart in every second

that you are worthy of my praise.

Remind my soul of your beauty

that my hunger may continually swell for you.

Remind my heart of your salvation

that I may thirst for my Savior.

And Lord, above all things,

may your name be glorified.

May you be exalted.

Lord, please help me to keep from stealing your glory.

Holy Spirit, guide me that I may serve my God

with all my heart,

soul,

mind,

and body.

Lord, you are worthy

and yet you still choose these filthy hands

and you call them your possession,

your joy.

I don't ever want to be the same.

You, my Lord,

how can I ever be the same when looking at you?

Thank you, Jesus.

Thank you, Spirit.

Thank you, God.

Thank you...

Goodmorning.

Remind Me

Who are you?
I used to know.
What makes you grow?
What makes you tick?
What is it that makes you you?

I knew you once, I could almost predict
the way you would smile, how you might respond
But it's been so long, remind me
I feel so far, confined-me
Who are you now? How have you changed?
Where is it you spend all of your days?
If schedules were blank and pressures were off
tell me in truth, would I be near the top of your new list?
I wish I could hear it, or just understand

"I miss you" holds more than it used to
holding loosely is hard to adjust to
"not now" I'm reminded as you walk by
honestly, busy hurts more than before
but now I find myself holding a "preoccupied" sign
Busy labels me, and consumes me in one breath
If only it could change
Or maybe it's not supposed to

You do all things for good reason
please, help me to get used to Your perfect plan
even when Your perfect seems to clash with mine
Obedience hurts
Surrendering was so much easier when it was surface level

I count all things as garbage compared to the surpassing value of knowing You, my Lord.

Remind me.

Please, remind me

Larry

Larry... one of my desk's new friends.

Coming

You know? Sometimes you can just feel a storm coming.
Will it pass?
Will it downpour?
Hail?
Lightning?
All things are possible.

You can hide.
You can run.
But it's inevitable...

A Storm's coming.

a storm is coming...

Today

You know?

It's times like these when I think...

Some day I may get the chance

to come home to someone that I love

or at least someone who doesn't

leave hate-notes on my bedroom door.

Someone who encourages Christ's success in me,

not someone who spends their energy

ridiculing my abilities.

Someone who respects me,

not someone who throws loud drinking parties

without caring that I am attempting sleep.

Some day I may get to come home to
a smile at the fact that I am in the kitchen
as opposed to a frown of annoyance.

Some day I may get to come home to

someone who says, "how was your day?"

someone who says, "I love you,"

someone who enjoys that I am home.

Some day I may get to come home

and really feel like it's a home

and I belong there [this side of heaven].

Some day...

just not today.

Steps and Stings

With every step of independence
comes a sting of responsibility.

...just hope the sting
isn't a critical one.


"I can do all things through Christ
who gives me the strength I need."

Today's Walk Composed...

Eager Expectation
Written 4/14/06

The wind whisks past
catching the cup of my ear
caressing my eardrum
“Ohhhhh…”


Oh, that You would rend the heavens and come down…


The grass bows at the wind’s weight
heavy arc
its power is too vast
“Whhiss…”


what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs
what I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight…


The wind bends her branches
crying, tender bark
inviting my eyes aloft
“Eyee…”


I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?

My help comes from the LORD,
Maker of heaven and earth.




-The creation waits in eager expectation
for the sons of God to be revealed.-



* Ref.: Is64:1, Matt10:27[rearranged], Ps121:1-2, Rom8:19

No Shame Shane

There is this little boy in Kindergarten named Shane. Upon meeting this child, I wanted to sell him into slavery. Shane was a holy terror. He ran the classroom and once he began down the wrong path, there was no stopping him. And to make the problem even more enjoyable Shane would sass back and deny that he ever did a single thing wrong. Ideal child. Everyone should have one!

Ms. Connie, room 13's afternoon Kindergarten teacher was out for a week which meant that Ms. Monica had the priviledge of tackling Shane's territory. I have to be honest, that week was terrible. I could not control the child. Shane was in and out of the office all week. But I could tell the office was no real punishment for him when he gave me sly smirks on the way into the office. That child consumed every drop of patience within me. All week long I told his parents "Shane has been absolutely wild", "Shane went to the office three times this afternoon", "Shane is not controlling himself in class", "Shane is very disrespectful," and a whole list of other things. At the end of the week his parents decided it was a good idea to let me in on the facts. "Shane has troubles adjusting to new teachers, he often tests people's authority." You think?!

But then they did something that few parents do upon hearing word of their child's disobedience. "Shane!" they spoke in one of those parent-voices, "You get over here right now!" They commanded the child from getting his backpack. "Now what happened today? Did you control yourself?" the accusation flew. "No," Shane lowered his head, nearing tears. "That is absolutely unacceptable!" Shane's head lowered. "...Well?"

The child stepped forward with a small voice, "I'm really sorry Ms. Monica." His voice quivered. I bent down to him, my heart had melted. "It's okay, Shane. I forgive you. But you'll do better tomorrow, right?" I looked into his eyes. "Yes, he will." responded his parent.

And you know what's funny? I absolutely adore that child. Yeah he gets a little too hyper and a bit out of control in disorder, but ever since that day, Ms Connie has said to me, "I don't know what you did, but that child adores you." Now every time I come into the room, Shane will not leave my side. Shane is a huge hugger and often latches himself onto me, refusing to let go. There is no shame in that child's need to be a baby around me. It's hilarious. He's this "rough and tough" kid who absolutely melts around me, latching onto my waist. I don't mind, I drag half of them around anyway. But it's so funny, though. Shane could be having the worst day ever, but the second he's with me, he straightens up. Ms. Connie teases, "I don't know what you do to that child, but he loves you. He's been psychotic for me, but is he crazy for you? No... not his Ms. Monica. Oh my... Shane, Shane, Shane..."

It's funny what good parenting will do for a child.

I love that kid!

Even when it hurts

This morning I learned a very hard lesson about God’s Sovereignty and even as I recall it now, it brings tears to my eyes.

This past Monday I was blessed to watch the work of the Lord. A woman desired to be apart of a new believer’s class at Apex, but she could not get to the class. I prayed before calling, but nothing could have prepared me to see God working quite as bluntly as I did. I listened in amazement as I, a perfect stranger, asked her to change her regularly attended church service, get her two children up early, and possibly stay later at church than expected all in order to get a ride to this Apex class. What an outlandish request, I remember thinking in mid question. Then, I realized it was nothing short of an act of God to hear the “yes” roll so effortlessly off this woman’s lips. “Did you want me to pick you up this Sunday?” came the final question. “Sure. That’s great,” came her God-provoked joy. We said our goodbyes and hung up the phone.
Saturday morning I received a call from Elizabeth at the Attic asking if I could come to volunteer later that night because she was having a rough time recruiting enough staff for the Teen Club hangout. Matt happily shifted our plans and before long we found ourselves in route to the Attic. Elizabeth and I had a special agreement. Although I don’t normally serve on Saturday nights at the Attic because I get up for the “painfully” early service on Sundays and in light of my new carpooling joy, Elizabeth agreed to try her best to let me out early. We, Matt and I, got out of the Attic early; it was kind of hard for me to leave in light of past lessons. [A few months ago God really put it upon my heart to realize the value in full-heartedly honoring Him through keeping commitments’ full time requirement. In other words, being there for the entire duration of a gathering proves more commitment to the gathering – since it took priority in your schedule- than only staying for the exciting moments.]
When I got home I looked up the address on mapquest, printed off directions, and organized how to get the most sleep and be most productive the following morning in order to get out to this woman’s house in the best amount of time. Despite excitement to get to meet a few new faces in the morning and the joy of being a part of God’s work, I drifted off to sleep fairly quickly. At 4:30 a wave of water, which I had not consumed, attacked my bladder, forcing me to surrender to the porcelain pot. After sleepwalking to and from the bathroom, my brain woke up enough to remember that I needed to get up in a few hours, so I better go back to sleep.
My alarm barged into my happy dreamland at “oh it’s way too-early… did I sleep at all last night? … ahhh, my body hates me” o’clock. I rushed through my morning tasks and am proud to report that I left the apartment showered, fully clothed, and without forgetting anything major at exactly 35 minutes from my wake-up time. I drove the 25 minutes in the car out to the lady’s house, fighting the sun to see road-signs and my printed directions with occasional interludes of sun-visor fighting. “I can conquer anything after that confusing ride to this woman’s townhouse apartment,” I thought as I walked up the cement walkway to the correctly addressed door. Much to my surprise, a pajama-ed, tired face came to the door and informed me that the lady was not at the house, she had left earlier that morning and she didn’t know when she’d be back, but she’d tell her I stopped by. The front door closed with my “thank you” and my feet guided the way to my now-fully defrosted car.
I drove in silence to the church. Initially my thoughts of frustration arose, but they were soon silenced by disappointment. By the time I entered Apex’s parking lot I had missed my prayer-walk time and only had a few minutes before the service. The band was still warming up when I found my “usual spot” in the fourth row. My “instincts” took over in dropping all my things, folding my hands, and closing my eyes; it knew exactly what I needed. But as I sat there in the silence of blaring music, feeling like the only one in the room, I could find no words. “Be with her,” finally came out as tears welled in my eyes.
See, the things is that it really didn’t matter to me that I had rearranged my schedule for this lady. It really didn’t matter to me that I drove an hour out of my way to bring her to church. It didn’t matter to me because it’s not about me. Anyone could have done what I was willing to do and they could have done it ten thousand times better. But what hurt the most was the fact that I wanted so badly just to love on this woman. I wanted so badly the opportunity just for her to know that some stranger cares about her because of how Beautiful Christ is. I wasn’t going to Bible thump her, guilt her, or judge her into church, but simply just love her because I was first loved by Christ. As one who has been lonely and hurt before, I’m just another beggar telling of where to find Food for the Soul. I didn’t need any “thank you”, just serving was enough. But it hurt, the disappointment hurt so bad to watch how the morning had played out.
It wasn’t until after the “business” of children’s church, Kidstown, and babysitting wore off that I sat in the second service at church and found my heart hurting more deeply then I had acknowledged. I heard the words of evangelistic encouragement ring truths about loving Jesus into others’ lives. “If anyone just wants to come on up here and hit the ground just saying that they’ll try harder to learn Jesus’ stories to share with others, please just feel free to do that as we continue this morning.” The words called out from a brother’s mouth. “I always want to learn more,” I remember thinking as I stood in the pew, “But I don’t think that he was talking to me. God knows my heart, he knows what I really need to say to Him and my heart is not only calling out that message this morning.” I found myself struggling with whether I should go up there or not. My pride began to speak up in the silence of indecision. And then I found myself at the floor during worship with tears streaming down my face. “I will not give up sharing, “my heart promised, “Even when it hurts.”

You know? It’s really hard to accept God’s Sovereignty, especially when it seems to clash with what you think will happen. It’s really hard to receive God’s lessons when your heart and your sole have given everything to serve where you were told to go only to find a road you didn’t want to travel upon.

On the drive home in between tears I remembered this: My Sovereign God chooses what He wills. He will do whatever it takes to glorify His name. He has more than enough right to chooses who will glorify Him and who will not. He is the only one with the power to be a fair and just, Sovereign God. And no matter how much my heart may fight to please Him and do His work, He never needs anything that I do. Nothing I ever do will bring Him closer to me or add to His glory. He is self-sufficient. And even when the disappointment of God’s Sovereign will hurts me, I have to come back to the Truth that I am nothing without my God and I need Him more than life itself. Even in the midst of hurt, I see how Beautiful my God is, my God who loves me so much to see past my mistakes and disappointments and replace my pains with Love. My God who picks me from the ground, sets me on my feet and whispers in my ear, “go ahead… I am with you.”

Thank you, Lord.

Thank you, Lord.

Compliment Downfall

The best compliment I have received from a five year old?

"Wow, Ms. Monica. You look like you came from a wedding."

But then in the same breath:

"You don't look like you normally do!"

Oh well... good thing I'm not relying on their compliments for my joy. =-P