As Christmas quickly approaches I want to share some "God stories" with you that have been shared with me lately. If you want to share a God story that I can share with our church family please email me at cwhitehead@charteroakumc.org.
I was having lunch at Wendy’s last week with my daughter and 2 of my grandchildren. As usual, we prayed before we ate. A young woman sitting at the table next to us said, ”Excuse me, but did you all just pray before you ate?” I said yes that we think it is important and it is just something that we do. She said the she was just saved in Christ last year but was already feeling like she was losing some of that ‘feeling’ and had asked God that morning to refresh her spirit. She felt that observing us pray and make God a natural part of our lives was a confirmation from Him. We all were enjoying the sacred carols that were playing and that was another confirmation for her. She asked where we go to church and said that she just might come and try our church sometime because she was driving quite a distance to the church that she had been attending. I told her that we would welcome her and look forward to seeing her again.
Merry Christmas…a refreshed spirit by the work of the Holy Spirit!
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
God Story #4
As Christmas quickly approaches I want to share some "God stories" with you that have been shared with me lately. If you want to share a God story that I can share with our church family please email me at cwhitehead@charteroakumc.org.
I saw God at work in Brenda when she lovingly and graciously cared for a person who called and had to back out of an obligation for which she had signed up. The person was so embarrassed and ashamed because of the reason she couldn’t fulfill the obligation and Brenda made her feel loved and valued. Brenda reminded this person by her actions that this person wasn’t valuable because of what she did, but because of who she is in Christ.
I saw God at work in Brenda when she lovingly and graciously cared for a person who called and had to back out of an obligation for which she had signed up. The person was so embarrassed and ashamed because of the reason she couldn’t fulfill the obligation and Brenda made her feel loved and valued. Brenda reminded this person by her actions that this person wasn’t valuable because of what she did, but because of who she is in Christ.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
God Story #3
As Christmas quickly approaches I want to share some "God stories" with you that have been shared with me lately. If you want to share a God story that I can share with our church family please email me at cwhitehead@charteroakumc.org.
Last Monday, April, who takes her son to accessAbilities, stopped in the church office inquiring about what items she could purchase and donate to the Food Pantry. She said she doesn’t go to church because she’s “not a good person, not good enough.” I wanted to cry. I told her we’re all sinners and all have issues. I told her God made us just the way we are for a reason and He loves us no matter what. She asked about our worship services and nursery and what else we offer. Naomi showed her around the church and we think she may come back to worship. My heart breaks for someone who asks about donating to the Food Pantry and in the same breath feels she isn’t “good enough” to attend church.
I think (I hope) Naomi and I made a difference in her life that day. I’m going to try to track her down this Monday if she shows up for accessAbilities, because she has been on my heart and in my thoughts all week.
Last Monday, April, who takes her son to accessAbilities, stopped in the church office inquiring about what items she could purchase and donate to the Food Pantry. She said she doesn’t go to church because she’s “not a good person, not good enough.” I wanted to cry. I told her we’re all sinners and all have issues. I told her God made us just the way we are for a reason and He loves us no matter what. She asked about our worship services and nursery and what else we offer. Naomi showed her around the church and we think she may come back to worship. My heart breaks for someone who asks about donating to the Food Pantry and in the same breath feels she isn’t “good enough” to attend church.
I think (I hope) Naomi and I made a difference in her life that day. I’m going to try to track her down this Monday if she shows up for accessAbilities, because she has been on my heart and in my thoughts all week.
Monday, December 13, 2010
God Story #2
As Christmas quickly approaches I want to share some "God stories" with you that have been shared with me lately. If you want to share a God story that I can share with our church family please email me at cwhitehead@charteroakumc.org.
Visiting at a local nursing home recently, I walked into the room of a senior member of our congregation, who has not been active here for many years. Walking into the room of someone dealing with memory issues, you never know how you may be received. This morning, I saw Ruth lying peacefully on her bed covered in a beautiful velvet blanket. Not wanting to disturb her, I introduced myself again to her roommate, a younger lady who had been moved here away from her home and surroundings to live close to her daughter, in order to better care for her.
As we spoke, she began to cry and was obviously mourning the loss of her former life. As it was close to lunchtime, Fay mentioned we should wake Ruth. Fay began to share with me, as we woke Ruth, how she cares for her, dresses her when no one can come down, helps her find things and keeps her company. I could clearly see how she simply devoted herself to caring for her roommate, loves her with gentleness, patience, and self-sacrifice. In the simple acts of caring for her, I saw God at work in this woman’s life, building purpose and meaning into her days, and healing her own loss in the process.
Visiting at a local nursing home recently, I walked into the room of a senior member of our congregation, who has not been active here for many years. Walking into the room of someone dealing with memory issues, you never know how you may be received. This morning, I saw Ruth lying peacefully on her bed covered in a beautiful velvet blanket. Not wanting to disturb her, I introduced myself again to her roommate, a younger lady who had been moved here away from her home and surroundings to live close to her daughter, in order to better care for her.
As we spoke, she began to cry and was obviously mourning the loss of her former life. As it was close to lunchtime, Fay mentioned we should wake Ruth. Fay began to share with me, as we woke Ruth, how she cares for her, dresses her when no one can come down, helps her find things and keeps her company. I could clearly see how she simply devoted herself to caring for her roommate, loves her with gentleness, patience, and self-sacrifice. In the simple acts of caring for her, I saw God at work in this woman’s life, building purpose and meaning into her days, and healing her own loss in the process.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
God Story #1
As Christmas quickly approaches I want to share some "God stories" with you that have been shared with me lately.
The following is the email I read in worship this weekend. I have taken the names out to honor the family's anonymity. If you want to share a God story that I can share with our church family please email me at cwhitehead@charteroakumc.org.
Hi Pastor Chris,
I had to write and tell you about the "Santa Claus" moment we had last night because it ironically happened when we took our son to see Santa at the mall.
The line to see Santa was long so it took about 30 minutes to reach the front. At one point while I was trying to keep our son entertained, my husband was talking with the young woman behind us who had a son who just turned one in November. As we neared the front of the line, there is a sign that lists all of the photo packages you can purchase. I started complaining to my husband that the cheapest package was $20 (because apparently you can't just buy one picture of your kid with Santa for $5 anymore). He turns to me and whispers, "The girl behind us is here alone with her son because her husband is in Afghanistan." And at the same time that the Holy Spirit spoke the words into my head, they came out of my husband's mouth - "Let's buy her a photo package...the biggest one they have." While my husband tried to convince our son to sit on Santa's lap (which he would have nothing to do with), I talked to the photographer and cashier and purchased the package and we left before the woman could find out what we did.
I would normally have left there disappointed that I didn't get a picture of our son with Santa, but instead I left in tears so overjoyed that we could help make sure that little boy's Daddy had lots of pictures of a moment he had to miss because he was out fighting for our freedom. I know in the grand scheme of things it wasn't that big of a deal...I'm sure the woman was going to buy pictures anyway, but I also know that God had a purpose in it and hopefully she recognized our gratitude and appreciation for what she and her family are sacrificing for the rest of us.
The following is the email I read in worship this weekend. I have taken the names out to honor the family's anonymity. If you want to share a God story that I can share with our church family please email me at cwhitehead@charteroakumc.org.
Hi Pastor Chris,
I had to write and tell you about the "Santa Claus" moment we had last night because it ironically happened when we took our son to see Santa at the mall.
The line to see Santa was long so it took about 30 minutes to reach the front. At one point while I was trying to keep our son entertained, my husband was talking with the young woman behind us who had a son who just turned one in November. As we neared the front of the line, there is a sign that lists all of the photo packages you can purchase. I started complaining to my husband that the cheapest package was $20 (because apparently you can't just buy one picture of your kid with Santa for $5 anymore). He turns to me and whispers, "The girl behind us is here alone with her son because her husband is in Afghanistan." And at the same time that the Holy Spirit spoke the words into my head, they came out of my husband's mouth - "Let's buy her a photo package...the biggest one they have." While my husband tried to convince our son to sit on Santa's lap (which he would have nothing to do with), I talked to the photographer and cashier and purchased the package and we left before the woman could find out what we did.
I would normally have left there disappointed that I didn't get a picture of our son with Santa, but instead I left in tears so overjoyed that we could help make sure that little boy's Daddy had lots of pictures of a moment he had to miss because he was out fighting for our freedom. I know in the grand scheme of things it wasn't that big of a deal...I'm sure the woman was going to buy pictures anyway, but I also know that God had a purpose in it and hopefully she recognized our gratitude and appreciation for what she and her family are sacrificing for the rest of us.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Little Children
Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”
- Matthew 19:14
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Whoever walks in integrity walks securely, but whoever takes crooked paths will be found out.
- Proverbs 10:9
This is my friend Rusty. He is a man of integrity. When I watch him live his life, I see the character of Jesus. He inspires me to want to be more like Jesus. Rusty's paths are straight. His heart is genuine. He walks with God.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Noble Character
A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies." - Proverbs 31:10 Words cannot express how much I love this picture of Kelli. A tender touch...a smile...a heart for Jesus.
Foundation
With praise and thanksgiving they sang to the LORD: “He is good; his love toward Israel endures forever.” And all the people gave a great shout of praise to the LORD, because the foundation of the house of the LORD was laid.
- Ezra 3:11
Friday, November 19, 2010
In Christ Alone
"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. - 2 Corinthians 12:9
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Jamaica through the Eyes of a Friend
A Reflection from My Time in Harmons, Jamaica
by Cindy Jonczak
I have had the distinct privilege to have experienced Harmons, Jamaica two times now. The first trip was with my daughter, Cara, and the second trip, from which I just returned, was with my two sons Seth and Christian. It is an honor and a blessing to have had the opportunity to serve alongside all three of my children. Words can't describe the joy that comes from seeing my kids love and give of themselves completely in another culture.
We all arrive in Harmons as strangers, with one another and the Jamaicans, and depart as family with an attachment to one another that is so deep and intense it takes our breath away that it happens in only 5 days. We fall in love with these wonderful people in Harmons and we fall in love with each other as teammates. Even the teammates that I thought I knew very well carve a much deeper level of relationship than when we came.
This is the unexpected hook that grabs the heart and makes it impossible to imagine not returning again and again. This is what causes bewilderment of the great loss I feel when I get back home. Something is missing ... and I think it is a piece of my heart that has been left behind in the rough and rocky terrain of the land and the sweet and gentle spirits of the people of Harmons, Jamaica.
My first trip provided an opportunity for me to discover things about myself. I needed to shed the inhibitions and fear of being in circumstances and surroundings that I had never been before, and didn't have an idea of what to expect. I went with a bit of protection and defense left in place, hesitantly and cautiously letting myself test the waters. But this second time, I let go, immediately. From the first moments of planning ... I began to shed all the layers that I wrap myself in here in my life in America.
This ... I believe, is the secret to the profound depth of connection that takes place.
The first thing I must do as a traveler to Harmons, Jamaica, is to collect two large suitcases. But not for me. At first I thought of these two suitcases as vessels to transport items that I would be taking to the people of Harmons. Now I see the suitcases in a very different way. Not only do they carry important items that help better the quality of life for the people, but they are also used to carry medical equipment and supplies to and from the health clinics. And more importantly, they carry the donated clothing and shoes that the Jamaicans will purchase at the Harmony House store for 100 J's or the equivalent of a $1.25, through the rocky mountainside to their homes where the suitcases will be used as clothes closets. Wheels and straps are a very important accessory to a young mother carrying a baby up a steep and diffcult climb to her home perched on the side of a cliff and, more than likely, walking in shoes that don't fit. I won't look at those suitcases the same again.
The second thing I must do is find a carry-on bag that will hold all the "stuff" that I will need for a week of mission work in a foreign country. This step is a significant one because it begins the process of shedding the unnecessary.
Shedding the unnecessary breaks down the barriers that separate me from another person. After I fill my carry-on with a few pieces of clothing, I find socks and undergarments are most important, and some hygiene products, one towel, and a pair of sturdy shoes for the worksites, I have reduced myself one step further. My one luxury item that I choose to make space for is a hairdryer for which I get much abuse. But it comes in handy to dry, after a washing, some of the undergarments that get caked with sweat, cement, dirt, marl, and, sometimes, dripping ice cream cones from a Jamaican child that I'm privileged to cuddle.
When the day of departure arrives, I carry my two suitcases filled to a 50 pound maximum with medicine, shoes and clothing, my carry-on bag, and a heart full of anticipation through the many immigration and custom inspections, where I hold my breath, and on through turnstiles and ques that transition me from life in these United States of America to the tourist life in Montego Bay, Jamaica. Montego Bay is a beautiful place. The pristine turquoise waters, the majestic resort hotels, the magnificent cruise ships anchored offshore are the last vestiges of comfort and luxury to pass away before I board a bus for a three hour ride away from the tourists and up into the mountains of Jamaica. I am shedding one more layer.
The first time I rode this bus into the mountains I had a sense of foreboding. It was dark. and a torrential rainstorm had just passed through. Water gushed down both sides of the narrowing roadways. The space between the bus and cars passing violently on the righthand side of the road seemed barely enough. Horns blared in an effort to prevent impending doom. We kept climbing into the darkness, lights dissipated, traffic lessened, thick jungle like stretches of land became prominent. Every so often a patch of little shacks passed by. I wondered to myself, 'what have I done?'
The second time, I knew where I was going. I knew what was at the end of that bus ride. It was daylight and the sun was shining. And it matched the difference in my attitude. We again climbed out of the coastal beauty and into an entirely different beauty of the Jamaican mountains. Faces peered at us from little shacks and village centers, children smiled and waved excitedly. It is probably an event when a bus full of "whities" drive through. I remembered these children, their smiles, their excitement, their beauty. The children get to me first.
As we progress, the road is less forgiving. The ruts and bumps, more pronounced. The little shacks and villages spread farther apart and seem less habitable. Goats roam freely, everywhere! I know where I'm going. It lies ahead on that last turn on to an even more challenging dirt path. And suddenly, there it is, Harmons, plopped unceremoniously and heartbreakingly beautiful in what is my newest definition of "the middle of nowhere!" I've come to them ...
Coming to them is a lot different than them coming to me. I am now more or less equalized. I am standing in their community. One more layer is gone.
The first thing we do upon arrival, and after unloading those precious suitcases, is get accustomed to our surroundings. We're in a compound known as the Harmony House where we will sleep and eat. The only thing that is left to separate me from the Jamaican life is a gated courtyard that they peer through until it is time to play together in the evenings. I share a room filled with bunkbeds with 20 other ladies. There is one bathroom with two stalls, and two cold water showers for all of us.
As I gather for our first night of sharing with team members, Josh, the director of wonbyonetojamaica, asks us to turn over our cell phones and laptops to be locked in the safe. For first timers, this is a big request. The clutch of "being connected" to the outside world is powerful and to some degree, comforting. But to the second timers and beyond, it is one of the last and more important layers to be shed. At last, there is very little, other than emotional barriers, that separate us from one another. It is freeing, even invigorating.
And so the week begins. Through the process of months, weeks, and hours of planning, packing, and traveling ... I am here. And I am more at the very minimum of myself than I have ever been. There is very little to distract and separate me from the people around me. I am at my most real and most vulnerable and I love it.
It is because of this process that I believe I have experienced a deeper sense of relational living in this little village than I ever have in all my life.
I am working side by side, shoulder to shoulder, with my teammates and my new community. Gone are the layers and layers of "stuff" that stands between me and the ability to really spend time with people. We work, we cry, we laugh, we eat, we sleep, we play together. It is a glorious experience. We see people in their weakest state in clinics and in the infirmary. And we see people at their strongest and best at the construction sites. In each, we see life as it was intended to be. Good and bad, happy and sad, loving one another, right where we are, beyond the masks, the trappings, the barriers. Jesus becomes real.
As I look into the faces of my teammates and into their hearts, I see Jesus. Oh He is so real here beyond the barriers. Beyond the unnecessary. Here, He is central, because love is central. And Jesus is Love. As I hold a baby, my heart beats fast with a fullness I can't explain. As I touch the hand of a friend, I am filled with joy. As I kneel at the bedside of a person whose legs and arms are bent in unnatural positions, who can't speak or move and is covered with sores, her eyes light up with a love that is almost incomprehensible. I think to myself, this is as close to being like Jesus that I will ever get. I don't want to leave.
Because leaving means shedding this peace and simplicity that is at the center of life here in Harmons. It means regaining all the "stuff" I've shed to come here. It means returning to life full of distractions, and complexity, and excess that consumes my time and ability and even desire to become deeply attached in relationship with the people in my community, where love is not always central and Jesus can be forgotten.
The amount of excess in my life is the takeaway. Some of those closest to me have a kinder and gentler term for it ... abundance. But I think "excess" matches my attitude. It is abundance when I choose to share it with others. I think it is excess when it keeps me from sharing with others.
I think the most profound impact that my experience in Harmons, Jamaica has had on me is a reminder that life has become more about maintaining and less about relating. I don't want to live their life. It is hard, and painful, and poor. But when the Jamaicans say to me, "I want what you have," I say to them, no, you don't. Because we are both poverty stricken, just in different ways. What I want from them is simplicity. And what they want from me is my abundance. Somewhere there is a median point in which Jesus can be honored and glorified for all.
I don't write this to say that I think Jamaica is the only place where I will be able to live like Jesus. But it is the place where I recognized how. I hope and pray that God will continue to work on me so that, somehow, I can bring it home with me. Will you join me in this prayer?
by Cindy Jonczak
I have had the distinct privilege to have experienced Harmons, Jamaica two times now. The first trip was with my daughter, Cara, and the second trip, from which I just returned, was with my two sons Seth and Christian. It is an honor and a blessing to have had the opportunity to serve alongside all three of my children. Words can't describe the joy that comes from seeing my kids love and give of themselves completely in another culture.
We all arrive in Harmons as strangers, with one another and the Jamaicans, and depart as family with an attachment to one another that is so deep and intense it takes our breath away that it happens in only 5 days. We fall in love with these wonderful people in Harmons and we fall in love with each other as teammates. Even the teammates that I thought I knew very well carve a much deeper level of relationship than when we came.
This is the unexpected hook that grabs the heart and makes it impossible to imagine not returning again and again. This is what causes bewilderment of the great loss I feel when I get back home. Something is missing ... and I think it is a piece of my heart that has been left behind in the rough and rocky terrain of the land and the sweet and gentle spirits of the people of Harmons, Jamaica.
My first trip provided an opportunity for me to discover things about myself. I needed to shed the inhibitions and fear of being in circumstances and surroundings that I had never been before, and didn't have an idea of what to expect. I went with a bit of protection and defense left in place, hesitantly and cautiously letting myself test the waters. But this second time, I let go, immediately. From the first moments of planning ... I began to shed all the layers that I wrap myself in here in my life in America.
This ... I believe, is the secret to the profound depth of connection that takes place.
The first thing I must do as a traveler to Harmons, Jamaica, is to collect two large suitcases. But not for me. At first I thought of these two suitcases as vessels to transport items that I would be taking to the people of Harmons. Now I see the suitcases in a very different way. Not only do they carry important items that help better the quality of life for the people, but they are also used to carry medical equipment and supplies to and from the health clinics. And more importantly, they carry the donated clothing and shoes that the Jamaicans will purchase at the Harmony House store for 100 J's or the equivalent of a $1.25, through the rocky mountainside to their homes where the suitcases will be used as clothes closets. Wheels and straps are a very important accessory to a young mother carrying a baby up a steep and diffcult climb to her home perched on the side of a cliff and, more than likely, walking in shoes that don't fit. I won't look at those suitcases the same again.
The second thing I must do is find a carry-on bag that will hold all the "stuff" that I will need for a week of mission work in a foreign country. This step is a significant one because it begins the process of shedding the unnecessary.
Shedding the unnecessary breaks down the barriers that separate me from another person. After I fill my carry-on with a few pieces of clothing, I find socks and undergarments are most important, and some hygiene products, one towel, and a pair of sturdy shoes for the worksites, I have reduced myself one step further. My one luxury item that I choose to make space for is a hairdryer for which I get much abuse. But it comes in handy to dry, after a washing, some of the undergarments that get caked with sweat, cement, dirt, marl, and, sometimes, dripping ice cream cones from a Jamaican child that I'm privileged to cuddle.
When the day of departure arrives, I carry my two suitcases filled to a 50 pound maximum with medicine, shoes and clothing, my carry-on bag, and a heart full of anticipation through the many immigration and custom inspections, where I hold my breath, and on through turnstiles and ques that transition me from life in these United States of America to the tourist life in Montego Bay, Jamaica. Montego Bay is a beautiful place. The pristine turquoise waters, the majestic resort hotels, the magnificent cruise ships anchored offshore are the last vestiges of comfort and luxury to pass away before I board a bus for a three hour ride away from the tourists and up into the mountains of Jamaica. I am shedding one more layer.
The first time I rode this bus into the mountains I had a sense of foreboding. It was dark. and a torrential rainstorm had just passed through. Water gushed down both sides of the narrowing roadways. The space between the bus and cars passing violently on the righthand side of the road seemed barely enough. Horns blared in an effort to prevent impending doom. We kept climbing into the darkness, lights dissipated, traffic lessened, thick jungle like stretches of land became prominent. Every so often a patch of little shacks passed by. I wondered to myself, 'what have I done?'
The second time, I knew where I was going. I knew what was at the end of that bus ride. It was daylight and the sun was shining. And it matched the difference in my attitude. We again climbed out of the coastal beauty and into an entirely different beauty of the Jamaican mountains. Faces peered at us from little shacks and village centers, children smiled and waved excitedly. It is probably an event when a bus full of "whities" drive through. I remembered these children, their smiles, their excitement, their beauty. The children get to me first.
As we progress, the road is less forgiving. The ruts and bumps, more pronounced. The little shacks and villages spread farther apart and seem less habitable. Goats roam freely, everywhere! I know where I'm going. It lies ahead on that last turn on to an even more challenging dirt path. And suddenly, there it is, Harmons, plopped unceremoniously and heartbreakingly beautiful in what is my newest definition of "the middle of nowhere!" I've come to them ...
Coming to them is a lot different than them coming to me. I am now more or less equalized. I am standing in their community. One more layer is gone.
The first thing we do upon arrival, and after unloading those precious suitcases, is get accustomed to our surroundings. We're in a compound known as the Harmony House where we will sleep and eat. The only thing that is left to separate me from the Jamaican life is a gated courtyard that they peer through until it is time to play together in the evenings. I share a room filled with bunkbeds with 20 other ladies. There is one bathroom with two stalls, and two cold water showers for all of us.
As I gather for our first night of sharing with team members, Josh, the director of wonbyonetojamaica, asks us to turn over our cell phones and laptops to be locked in the safe. For first timers, this is a big request. The clutch of "being connected" to the outside world is powerful and to some degree, comforting. But to the second timers and beyond, it is one of the last and more important layers to be shed. At last, there is very little, other than emotional barriers, that separate us from one another. It is freeing, even invigorating.
And so the week begins. Through the process of months, weeks, and hours of planning, packing, and traveling ... I am here. And I am more at the very minimum of myself than I have ever been. There is very little to distract and separate me from the people around me. I am at my most real and most vulnerable and I love it.
It is because of this process that I believe I have experienced a deeper sense of relational living in this little village than I ever have in all my life.
I am working side by side, shoulder to shoulder, with my teammates and my new community. Gone are the layers and layers of "stuff" that stands between me and the ability to really spend time with people. We work, we cry, we laugh, we eat, we sleep, we play together. It is a glorious experience. We see people in their weakest state in clinics and in the infirmary. And we see people at their strongest and best at the construction sites. In each, we see life as it was intended to be. Good and bad, happy and sad, loving one another, right where we are, beyond the masks, the trappings, the barriers. Jesus becomes real.
As I look into the faces of my teammates and into their hearts, I see Jesus. Oh He is so real here beyond the barriers. Beyond the unnecessary. Here, He is central, because love is central. And Jesus is Love. As I hold a baby, my heart beats fast with a fullness I can't explain. As I touch the hand of a friend, I am filled with joy. As I kneel at the bedside of a person whose legs and arms are bent in unnatural positions, who can't speak or move and is covered with sores, her eyes light up with a love that is almost incomprehensible. I think to myself, this is as close to being like Jesus that I will ever get. I don't want to leave.
Because leaving means shedding this peace and simplicity that is at the center of life here in Harmons. It means regaining all the "stuff" I've shed to come here. It means returning to life full of distractions, and complexity, and excess that consumes my time and ability and even desire to become deeply attached in relationship with the people in my community, where love is not always central and Jesus can be forgotten.
The amount of excess in my life is the takeaway. Some of those closest to me have a kinder and gentler term for it ... abundance. But I think "excess" matches my attitude. It is abundance when I choose to share it with others. I think it is excess when it keeps me from sharing with others.
I think the most profound impact that my experience in Harmons, Jamaica has had on me is a reminder that life has become more about maintaining and less about relating. I don't want to live their life. It is hard, and painful, and poor. But when the Jamaicans say to me, "I want what you have," I say to them, no, you don't. Because we are both poverty stricken, just in different ways. What I want from them is simplicity. And what they want from me is my abundance. Somewhere there is a median point in which Jesus can be honored and glorified for all.
I don't write this to say that I think Jamaica is the only place where I will be able to live like Jesus. But it is the place where I recognized how. I hope and pray that God will continue to work on me so that, somehow, I can bring it home with me. Will you join me in this prayer?
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Protecting your pastor’s faith
Wow, this is really huge for me from Steven Furtick:
Leaders need to know the facts. We can’t hide from reality, nor should we. But I’m also convinced that too many leaders are confronted with too much bad news without solutions.
This is especially true of pastors. It seems like sometimes we can become the clearinghouse for all that is wrong in our church. And since solutions are rarely proposed, we spend the next few hours or the rest of the day trying to fix problems. Problems that usually dozens of other people could have generated solutions for without our help.
This isn’t just about increased stress and decreased mental energy on our part. Most people don’t realize it, but every problem they bring their pastor makes a demand on their faith to believe God. It’s the pastor’s responsibility to cast the vision God has given them for their church. But they have to be able to believe that the God-sized vision they are receiving is actually capable of being implemented.
If their people keep bringing them problems all the time, it weakens their faith and orients their mind towards wondering what is going to go wrong next. The pastor eventually doesn’t have the faith to believe God for big things because it doesn’t even seem like the small things are being taken care of.
One of the greatest things you can do for your pastor is protect their faith. You want to keep your leader in a place where he’s optimistic. Where he’s dreaming about where God is taking your church. Not on everything that is keeping it from getting there. And the best way you can do this is by limiting his awareness of problems that do not have viable solutions.
This doesn’t mean keeping your pastor completely in the dark. Yes, he should know there are problems. But more than that he should know that his team has them covered.
Commit yourself today to begin bringing solutions, not problems. It will protect your pastor’s faith. And make you irreplaceably valuable in your church.
Leaders need to know the facts. We can’t hide from reality, nor should we. But I’m also convinced that too many leaders are confronted with too much bad news without solutions.
This is especially true of pastors. It seems like sometimes we can become the clearinghouse for all that is wrong in our church. And since solutions are rarely proposed, we spend the next few hours or the rest of the day trying to fix problems. Problems that usually dozens of other people could have generated solutions for without our help.
This isn’t just about increased stress and decreased mental energy on our part. Most people don’t realize it, but every problem they bring their pastor makes a demand on their faith to believe God. It’s the pastor’s responsibility to cast the vision God has given them for their church. But they have to be able to believe that the God-sized vision they are receiving is actually capable of being implemented.
If their people keep bringing them problems all the time, it weakens their faith and orients their mind towards wondering what is going to go wrong next. The pastor eventually doesn’t have the faith to believe God for big things because it doesn’t even seem like the small things are being taken care of.
One of the greatest things you can do for your pastor is protect their faith. You want to keep your leader in a place where he’s optimistic. Where he’s dreaming about where God is taking your church. Not on everything that is keeping it from getting there. And the best way you can do this is by limiting his awareness of problems that do not have viable solutions.
This doesn’t mean keeping your pastor completely in the dark. Yes, he should know there are problems. But more than that he should know that his team has them covered.
Commit yourself today to begin bringing solutions, not problems. It will protect your pastor’s faith. And make you irreplaceably valuable in your church.
Quote #8 - Minutia
"We spend way too much time responding and reacting to minutia than really doing work that matters." - Seth Godin
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Monday, October 4, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Quote #5 - Internet
"One of the dangers of the internet is that you can do short-term stuff all day long and produce nothing." - Seth Godin
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Quote #4 - Revolution
"Revolutions are all about doing something that’s impossible. What makes things impossible is what makes them a revolution. Revolutions change things in impossible ways." - Seth Godin
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
