an early Christmas gift

last year our family began the tradition of using a jesse tree to celebrate advent.  our pilot run didn't prove to be so memorable, but this year it's surely a highlight of the season.  if you aren't familiar with the concept, it's inspired by the isaiah 11 passage prophesying Jesus' coming: "a shoot will come up from the stump of jesse . . . " typically, a tree or branch of sorts is chosen and for every day of advent one ornament representing a truth or particular story from Scripture is hung on the tree.  all of the symbols and coinciding teachings point toward the gift of God's Son, connecting thousands of years of history to Immanuel's birth.

kenn and i love how engaged the kids have been while we talk about each story, read from the Bible and pray together.  each day we cut out a simple drawing from a free collection i found online.  one kid colors it, one glues it to a paper background that's been tied with thread, and the third hangs it on our tree.  we've covered creation, how sin entered this world, famous prophets and people like king david and ruth.  every one includes a promise of what a Savior brings. last week, R (who is four) started asking about death.  quite exciting, it was no surprise after all the conversations we've had. he and kenn had a lengthy talk - comical at points - about salvation, whom we know who knows Jesus and how everyone dies.

tonight it was my turn to stay with R on his bed after all five of us prayed and kenn had taken A to her room. R and i chatted about the fun day we had and the upcoming visit to his grandparents'.  and somewhere in the middle R mentioned how Jesus can live in our hearts.  affirming him, i asked if Jesus lives in his.  he nodded yes, so i asked if he prayed about it with daddy. "we talked about it," he said.  when i asked if i could pray with him, he responded with that adorable, happy nod of his.  the bashful grin and gleaming brown eyes melt you away.  so i prayed a little prayer that he repeated after me, confidently.  after celebrating a little, he wanted to talk some more.  does so-and-so have Jesus in his heart?  why did mom-mom's husband die?  people put people in dirt.  God goes everywhere with us.  what does God look like?  we even discussed spirits and how eternal gifts are better than toys. (don't think he agrees with that one yet!)

i made sure to bring daddy back so he could celebrate.  then when i sat with O (10 yr) downstairs, i shared the news with him.  i pondered the beautiful things that may be forming in our kids' hearts as we celebrate Christmas this year, and another portion of isaiah came to mind.  chapter 55 says:

"for as the rain and the snow come down from heaven
and do not return there but water the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it."

amen.
and MERRY CHRISTMAS to you!

where does our help come from?

on the monday after thanksgiving, i didn't want to enter into work again. resting a bit more over the weekend was really good. i was walking around speedily, getting to work anyway, when i smashed my little toe on a dresser drawer. the same foot i injured just weeks before. slow down, slow down already. i sat on a chair and iced my toe while acacia watched an episode of "the cat in the hat knows a lot about that." amusingly, one whole segment was about learning to go slow like a sloth.

kenn returned from the bus stop and asked me whether i had thoughts regarding the far-too-long-overdue vacation we're hoping to take at december's end. we had sent out a request for prayer, knowing we need God to make that vacation possible. then a friend offered up the possibility of using her parents' lake house in PA for free. boy, that would be a quick and ideal answer. wouldn't it? we gave her the dates that would work for us but found they're the same days her parents will be there for their vacation. i was a little disappointed and actually pondered that our only option had been lost, as if God couldn't provide in another way.

when i said i didn't really know what we should do, kenn started with, "i guess i have to send out another prayer email." it's the type of response we all have when we try to make things happen. reassert oneself. instead, i passionately suggested more petitioning of God himself. no sooner did i invoke the both of us to cry out to God to help us in our need - the need of which God is more than aware - than kenn's phone rang with a message. a woman gave her name and said she wanted to give us money. how should she go about it? we replayed the message, laughing in delight and praise. sure, we didn't know if the call was legit, but we were sure God was answering us and promising provision.

a little while later, i took the time needed to rest my toe as an opportunity to sit in thanks. i looked through the psalms and chapter 146 stood out. so did isaiah 58 with its promises for those who act in righteousness. verse 9 says:

then you will call, and the Lord will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: here am I.

there's more. kenn heard from a coworker that same day that she and her family had gifts for us. it was like an early Christmas when kenn brought home the 3 or 4 bags of sundry items plus cash. on tuesday, our mail included a Christmas card with a check inside. the following day we received another check from the mystery woman who left the voicemail. kenn had returned her call. she's from a local church that has supported us in the past and their women's group wanted to bless us, too. by friday, we discovered that another congregation sent a large gift to our account, making the money we raised for next month nearly double what we typically receive in any given month. our support will actually be at 100%!

an increase like this at the holidays is not the norm for us, and the pay period isn't over yet! however, kenn and i still don't know whether a vacation will be possible. it is by God's grace through this time of "abundance" that we are seeing this unknown with renewed perspective. receiving so much blessing can make you stop, slow down, and give praise Where praise is due. and you realize (again) that you should have been resting in God's goodness already and praising just like the psalmist:

Praise the LORD.
Praise the LORD, my soul.
I will praise the LORD all my life;
I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.
Do not put your trust in princes,
in human beings, who cannot save.
When their spirit departs, they return to the ground;
on that very day their plans come to nothing.
Blessed are those whose help is the God of Jacob,
whose hope is in the LORD their God.

He is the Maker of heaven and earth,
the sea, and everything in them—
he remains faithful forever.
He upholds the cause of the oppressed
and gives food to the hungry.
The LORD sets prisoners free,
the LORD gives sight to the blind,
the LORD lifts up those who are bowed down,
the LORD loves the righteous.
The LORD watches over the foreigner
and sustains the fatherless and the widow,
but he frustrates the ways of the wicked.

The LORD reigns forever,
your God, O Zion, for all generations.

Praise the LORD.

considering the birds

earlier this summer, our car appeared in the newspaper after it took two bullet wounds in front of our house. what a way to make the front page. then a couple weeks later, a woman made an illegal turn and smacked into our car, scuffing a rim and denting the same door the bullets hit. her insurance company covered the costs of the repairs plus the rental we needed while the car was in the shop. last week, the rim and the entire door were replaced and now the car looks like new again!

God provides in surprising and sometimes bizarre ways. remember manna, from the story of israel's exodus into the desert? they found this flaky kind of honey-wafer covering the ground like dew in the mornings. and when they needed a drink, moses whacked a rock with a rod and water flowed from it to quench their thirst. though God hasn't (yet) asked us to check the grass for food or hit inanimate objects to get what we need, his M.O. with us often resembles how he cared for these original wilderness people.

in 2000, God sent kenn and me on our own journey into the unknown. we moved from kentucky to california with no jobs, no place to live, and our first baby on the way. our financial status completely changed, and we've pretty much lived below the poverty line since. i can recall opening my front door more than once to see a gallon of milk left on my step. i'd take it to the frig only to realize our milk had just gone bad. there's the time when we didn't know what we'd eat for dinner and in popped our friends with two large bags full of food. sometimes a check would come in the mail from someone who'd been praying for us. the amount would be just what we needed to pay an outstanding bill.

we struggle more than ever these days, and last month was the worst in memory. we literally couldn't go grocery shopping for a month. (no complaints from me about that one! it's not my favorite chore.) it is amazing what a handful of coins can mean in such times. you're also reminded of the luxuries you've grown accustomed to, like dishwasher detergent, a personal washing machine (mine broke), fresh fruit, or variety in your diet. you're compelled to pray for every need and to reconsider what is your daily bread.

all the lessons and purposes in these trials are not yet evident, but God remains faithful. our bills were paid and our mouths were fed all month. my parents invited me to "shop" at their house more than once. a friend who visits a local food pantry started giving us any items he cannot eat. and we attended barbecues and birthday parties a number of times, enjoying our plenty despite the empty cabinets. this month, we have gained another financial supporter. one congregation plans to send a bonus gift and may increase its monthly support. and my in-laws just paid for our visit to their house this past weekend. and that's only the material provision. oh what other blessings God has been weaving all the while . . .

it isn't easy not knowing when or from where your income will appear. except when you concede: it's always and ultimately from your Father Creator, whether you're rich or poor. we are of more worth than the birds, who don't sow or reap or store away, yet eat and live. and life is so much more than food.

the golden rule

our stroller went missing recently. it was in pretty poor condition, but it was a double-seater for jogging and we used it a lot. our oldest noticed it was gone one day while a few kids from around the corner were out back. he said he'd seen a couple of them with it, so i told them all to go retrieve it. pretty brazen, i thought, to let themselves into our backyard and then take something. they barely know us.

after a couple of minutes and no sign of the kids, i decided to see what happened. i rounded the corner to find them looking a bit bewildered. no stroller. as i crossed the street asking where it was, they all began their tales. I wasn't outside, SHE was . . . NO! I was in the bathtub . . . NO, I WAS in the tub. . . well actually, I WAS the only one inside . . . then i realized the stroller wasn't taken that hour nor that day but the night before. they had removed it from our yard, left it somewhere on the sidewalk, and now it was gone.

let's just say, i was not pleased.

rewind to the night before. these same kids were racing back and forth with streams of tape pulled from a video they'd broken. our son was riding his scooter as they played and it seems at some point they started chasing him with the tape. he probably thought it was fun, until one boy wrapped the tape around his neck and wouldn't let go. our son hit him in the side to get the boy to release him. then he came home, clearly shaken.

after getting the story, kenn took our oldest back outside and made him apologize. kenn also gave a good talk to the crew of them about playing nicely. i saw from the window that it took some repeating and added sternness for the other kids to even give an ear. then, on his own, the boy who had hurt ours decided to apologize, too. breakthrough! his sister (a second-grader, mind you) actually got mad at kenn, thinking he'd forced her brother to say sorry. kenn calmly set her straight.

back to the day of the stroller. knowing it was taken in the night and i could do nothing about its whereabouts, i took a breath. what do i do now? i almost went to the kids' house to report their crime. i asked who was watching them and one said it was their mom. she was sleeping. sleeping!? i thought. her kids are running the streets and she sleeps? then something happened in me. i know now it was the Spirit within showing me what i almost missed. three precious children.

with my anger dissolving, i told them it didn't matter who took it and addressed the behavior instead. the older ones stared blankly when i asked them how they'd feel if i walked into their house and took something of theirs. so i posed the same to the youngest, who can't be more than 5. with a lisp he said, "sad!" and my heart broke a little more. then i laid down the rule. from now on, if they'd like to go in the backyard or use something of ours, they just need permission. immediately, they asked to use our basketball hoop - the one they'd already pulled from the yard moments before i had them searching for the stroller.

what else could i do? i said okay, and they skipped across the street with me in tow. i let them in our yard. i let them use the toys. and i felt really free.

that night at dinner, kenn read these upside-down commands of Jesus from Luke 6:

but i tell you who hear me: love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. if someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also. if someone takes your cloak, do not stop him from taking your tunic. give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. do to others as you would have them do to you.

yielding in prayer yields fruit

eight days ago, we set up our first prayer room!

we propped an E-Z Up shelter in the parking lot of a church down the street during their 5th annual fun fair which is hosted in partnership with our neighborhood association and elementary school staff. this church has a great ministry to the neighborhood called SHINE Ministries, where i have volunteered in the past. just a couple of weeks back, the director of SHINE was speaking with kenn about life & work and invited us to set up a table at the fair. i honestly don't know what he was imagining we'd want to add to the event and when kenn told me of the invite it was almost in passing. for a brief moment i thought it was simply a nice gesture. then a second thought overcame me. WHOA. that's a big deal. and immediately followed: we should have a prayer tent! i think i surprised both of us.

though kenn and i are planning with others to hold a season of nonstop prayer this fall, we did not foresee something of this sort and this soon on our street! kenn went to the director with the idea, the director went to someone overseeing the fair, and the prayer room was approved! there wasn't much time to put it together, but complete peace filled me as i drew plans for how it would look and what elements would be appropriate to include. getting to design such a sacred space, pouring prayer over the details and envisioning what God could be doing, was absolutely fulfilling.

the day of the fair started with two teen boys helping set up the tent. both of them were campers of mine the first year i was a counselor with SHINE. now they're a regular part of the life at that church. my mom joined us, plus two friends from our old church. a youth pastor friend from another church in town (who also happens to be my distant relative) stayed all afternoon to help run the tent. i grew up with him and his sister, and his mother has taught for years at this same neighborhood school, deeply committed to the kids and their families. it's a wild blessing to be doing God's work together today!

at the fair, every child registers for the activities and a card with a list of the stations is given to each. their cards get punched after visiting each one. when a card's complete, a student receives a new book bag and other gifts like school supplies, a New Testament Bible, and a ticket for a free cone from the ice cream truck. at first, people were a bit hesitant to stop by the prayer room. coming together so last minute, it wasn't an official item listed on their cards, and the tent was a bit removed from the other tables. however, once a certain number of people realized what the tent was all about, a flow of visitors came.

in front of the prayer room was a box where anyone could leave prayer requests. only a handful of people shied away from doing so, with most eager to share their burdens or words of thanks. several folks, including volunteers with the fair, made it a point to thank us for having a prayer room, to show their approval of "such a great idea". a few personal stories we heard in more detail. one woman asked for prayer on the spot. we spent time with a man whose newborn son has been fighting for his life. many people we personally know from our street participated. and the kids at the fair loved the space inside the tent. they wrote out prayers and drew pictures of them, some giving praise to Jesus or thanks for what they have. parents rested there while their children colored and hung their work along the perimeter of the room. those prayers and the ones left in our box came to number over 100.

it would take a lot more time to describe everything we saw that day, but one of the most significant moments for me came later that evening. there's a large crew of kids - all from the same extended family - that is always next door and with whom we've gotten pretty close. some of them were outside that evening and one of the little girls, whom i'll call M, came to ask me what we we'd be doing with the box of prayers. i told her a group of us would be praying over them and she asked to help. she wanted me to bring out the box so we could pray for all of them together! though i felt unsure of letting her read the cards since some were shared in confidence and she might recognize who had written others, i knew i still could not squelch her desire.

a few other little girls were playing with my hair as i sat on the porch, and M pulled up a chair in front of me. she continued to ask to pray and i finally decided to not bring out the box but suggested that we still could pray. there were a couple of interruptions, including a phone call with a prayer request, until at last i said, "let's pray." another, even younger girl had pulled up a chair next to M, so that we formed a tight circle there on the porch. she asked to pray first, and with two other girls listening in, the two who were seated put out their hands to hold mine and bowed their heads. eyes closed, each took a turn to mouth silent prayers. after their amens, i asked if i could pray aloud and then brought to God the beautiful day we'd just had. i thanked him for the fair and for friendship. i prayed for our neighborhood, for the phone call request and for the girl's uncle who's awaiting a lung transplant. then an older girl walked up and sat on the window sill next to me. we grabbed her hands and i thanked God for her, too. as i closed our prayer, another cousin came to tell them it was time to go inside and they skipped away.

i am still aflutter inside. what a privilege to sit on my porch as i've done countless times before, this time praying with these dear little ones! i don't know what else is in store, but my heart is ready. God is doing many beautiful things in this place, and i am so grateful we're a part of it all!

----------------------------

UPDATE Nov 2013:

Many months after we'd prayed for the uncle of M and the family had moved from our block, our phone rang.  It was M's uncle, calling from the hospital, having just received a double lung transplant!  His doctors and the other hospital staff were in awe at his body's response and the quick progress in the few short days after surgery.  Then he said he knew he HAD to call us because WE HAD BEEN PRAYING FOR HIM all along!  Even now, every time we see him he attests to the fact that he was given another chance at life.

UPDATE Apr 2014:

These days M and others from the story above have made their home at the church where we held the prayer tent.  They've been deeply involved in SHINE and are growing into beautiful young women.  Please pray that their hearts would be forever captured by Jesus and their faith, too, would yield boundless fruit in this community!  Also, the fellowship we've now called home for over a year is the same one from which our helpers/relatives came to support us at the tent in 2010.  I love life's twists and turns.

what grates on you?

sand is in my bed
it was too late
to bathe little girl
when we were back from the boardwalk

night's sleep broken
it is summer
and it's maybe the fortieth
time because of coughs
and stuffed noses inside
or laughing singing screaming out

tonight's been a bit
of it all
even the cops showed
then a lull came over
maybe prayer was answered
so i climbed back in

with sand in my bed
two hours later
little girl whimpers
and the voices are back by my window

tonight is one of those nights. it's nearly 5 a.m. and i've been awake for a couple hours, even though i actually went to bed early. summer is wild on our block, any time of day or night. in fact, sometimes the same people who wake me at two are still awake when i'm watering the flowers at seven. but this is how i came to write another poem.

i got out my journal to think through my feelings about the rudeness that woke me. that wasn't my first reaction, though. my first was to go downstairs to see who and where they were. i turned on my awfully bright porch light but it didn't phase them. after a bit they did move on, i wrote a bit, the police stopped by, and it got quieter. i went back to bed only to have a poem pop in my head!

i do identify with the poet, naomi shihab nye:

"the things that cause you friction are the things from which you might make art."

can you relate?

flying

our baby girl, who is about to turn two, was born with skew foot. it's not as common or severe as club foot, but as a tiny infant acacia wore full-leg casts and then moved to wearing a brace around the clock. at a year old the brace was only worn in daytime, then we were rid of it altogether this past winter. her skew foot was healed in both feet!

you'd never know acacia had any "abnormality" confining her to some artificial support. she was born sunny. and that sweet disposition has been God's gracious gift to me (and the world!) since her birth. she draws people to her no matter where she goes. i cannot tell you how many have whispered, "she's my favorite," as in secret. and physically? the girl lets nothing stop her. she thought she could just roll off my lap from a chair to the floor before she could even sit up! and how does she walk? running is her MO. her speedy pitter-patter is absolutely adorable to see.

knowing all of this about acacia, i was still concerned about getting her new shoe inserts. her specialist recently prescribed them after seeing how severe her ankles pronate and how flat her feet are. it's been so long since she had to wear a brace, i thought, what if they bother her, hurt her little feet? she might fight us to not wear them. what if it slows her down?

rhys, acacia and i picked them up last monday. the braces were tried on and a few adjustments were made, then we put an extra-big pair of crocs over them. our appointment was over, so we headed outside. there's a great playground right in front of the hospital. we always spend some time there before driving back home. as i walked the kids through that gate, their excitement was spilling out. don't you know, my little girl let go of me and RAN to the swings!? she galloped like a filly. she climbed steps like a big kid. she slid down slides over and over. one time, she did that little trick where you swing by your hands on the bar across the top of the slide before dropping yourself to slip away. she's never done that!

i kept shaking my head in awe, wondering momentarily how strange my grin might look to the other people there. i didn't care, joy was bubbling over. it was as if acacia had new strength in those shoes! and then, rhys began jumping off steps pretending he was superman, flying. guess who copied. acacia started FLYING. boy, did the tears come then and i recalled isaiah 40:31

"...they will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."

those whose hope is in the Lord.

acacia was born with a resolve and it's only fitting. her name means guileless. that's a childlike innocence. it is trusting.

i really needed to taste the truth that morning. not only with regard to acacia's feet. i needed the truth about hoping in God alone. trusting him as his child, in a freedom that knows it'll all be taken care of by my Dad. playing my days away as he deals with the big stuff. and to think, when i do so he delights to watch me just like i watch her. when my hope takes me to flight, makes me daring, gets me giggling, he beams in his glory. which just so happens to be my baby's other name.

prayer and a life sentence

this week, a young man was sentenced to 68 years in prison. four years ago, he took another man's life. now he'll likely spend the rest of his locked up. he murdered a man from our town, one who's brother is an acquaintance of ours, a committed community leader and a pastor of a nearby church.

i read the story online, watched a video taken at the sentencing, and began to pray. first for his fianceé and the ones closest to him. for our pastor friend and all the "victims" of this crime. even for others involved in the proceedings. finally, i looked at the face of this convicted man (barely a man, really) and then was my spirit overwhelmed. i pondered what a life he faces, the life he ultimately chose, and i could not help but weep for him. within seconds, i was wishing i could stand beside him, a friend ready to walk with him, no matter his demeanor, conscience or plea.

the more common reactions from any one of us could likely be a shrugging off of such tragedy as all-too-common, a ranting of opinions on how the case was handled, or maybe a shaking of heads in prideful pity thinking we could never be so evil. perhaps we're burdened for the ones who lost their loved one in this dreadful way. or God forgive us, we may even vengefully delight in this young man's demise.

i believe what happened in me had much to do with prayer. i brought my thoughts and feelings into conversation with God and my mourning came, my deepest compassion flowed for the criminal. prayer can do this. not like magic. prayer isn't a game or trick or formula for getting our wishes. when we truly practice prayer, we let ourselves receive God's dreams and understand his passions, even while bringing ourselves before him. choosing to pray this way is yielding, it's placing ourselves at God's mercy. full of mercy that he is, we find that mercy flowing for us. and one day, it overflows to others.

if you're feeling the need for kindness or really want a different heart, try more prayer. give a little more time and grant the Spirit a little more space. into the most empty (emptied) places, the most mercy will flow.

have mercy on our souls.

a poem instead

i have wanted to capture with words some of what we experienced in northfield. nothing has come to me yet. this is where writing can be both frustrating and fun, predictably unpredictable.
thanks to my mom, however, tonight was full of the subject of writing because we watched Inkheart (i, for the first time) and followed it with readings from silverstein's Falling Up.

by the time i got home it was past midnight and i had drunk tea with caffeine. i knew if i went to bed i'd be back out in no time, because the bug was itching me to write. i came to the computer to catch up on correspondence first, and that's where inspiration came. not regarding our fabulous 10 days with the 24-7 prayer family, it's a poem more about days long ago, to some extent. here i credit shel's poetic style and, undoubtedly, the oh-so-lovely randomness of a friend. thanks, bailey.

here's my latest, at this latest hour.

omnibus poem

my school was so special
it drew from all over
families who treasured
a place of high caliber
that is, a place with
morale where a dad or a
mom could be sure
that their daughter
or son was safe from
the lure of lewd words
and a bully as pal
the grip of worldly teachings
and some new-fangled preaching

but i'll save that subject
for another debate
let's talk about how i
became second-rate
see, my school had buses
don't know how few or
more, just know that i
rarely stepped foot in their doors
my house it was tiny
(donned tarpaper forever!)
for years we hardly had
two coins to rub together
but it wasn't this that
caused my dissension
it was that my house sat
outside jurisdiction

doomed to carpool
every day, every year
every grade i attended -
all thirteen, i do fear -
this put me in a class
of a different kind
i wasn't a "bussy"
the elite in my mind
elite because everyone
else got to ride on
the bus that was greener
than on the carside
see what my school taught
so special they say
it drove me to envy
and label, not pray
not memorize stories of
saints long ago
just painted a picture
of the world we all know
where this one is in
that one is out
those have no value
these have the clout
oh! how did i get here
debating again
what was good or was bad
about my institution
i guess it goes back
to the one thing i've
found - no matter where
you are schooled or in
what home you dwell
or who your friends are
come heaven or hell -
everyone's got certain
voices within and particular
ways we are wound

i thank Goodness my school
didn't break me or make
me, the car didn't kill me
the bus doesn't wield me
there is much more hidden
deeply inside that's to
credit for both
my purity and pride
- c. l. atkinson

oh, for such a time as this!

not far from the borders of vermont and new hampshire, a little massachusetts river town has been our home for the last week. we're in northfield. though small by population, it is colossally rich with stories old and new.

here dwight l. moody was born. and here in july of 1886, moody held a month-long Bible conference with over 200 students from 89 colleges and universities. that meeting birthed the student volunteer movement, which came to send out thousands upon thousands of students into foreign mission in just one generation.

while here, we get to play a privileged part - through prayer and physical labor with our campus america family - in the reviving of the old mount hermon school campus. founded by moody himself, this spectacular property was recently acquired for the establishment of c. s. lewis college. the story of how our new friends at the c. s. lewis foundation obtained this land is a miraculous one as well!

we came here to deepen our friendships with our brothers and sisters from campus america, to envision how 24-7 prayer will carry on through our colleges and universities, across our nation, and around the globe. our days have been full of song and study, good food and conversation, playing, praying, and exploring these grounds, all the while soaking in more and more of Jesus. we want his heart alone for our lives and this world. and just as in those days of moody, each one here truly believes the Spirit is weaving this july gathering into another legacy for generations to foretell . . .

how does your garden grow?

i may have inherited a green thumb from the dear gardeners in my family. i'm surely no expert, but i have learned how much effort, time, patience and carefulness it takes. and don't forget ingenuity! yet even with the best sweat, the process can be downright disappointing sometimes.

for example, take efforts thwarted by insects and other animals. you choose a tiny seed, dig in dirt and position it just so, water and watch and water some more. a small stem starts to show sweet little leaves and excitement begins to build. the care continues and the dreams of a lush garden light your whole day . . . until those leaves are chewed right down to nothing!

living life as a Kingdom servant can be likened to this. you pour yourself into others, dreaming of the beauty they could enjoy some day. you sacrifice time and share your belongings, open your heart and help carry theirs. you push yourself to give and stretch your ability to commit. then you start seeing changes in how they treat others or in the kinds of choices they make. excitement builds and it's easier to imagine healing, restored faith, a transformed family and sometimes even a holy city!

until a neighbor disappears for awhile. or one who claimed his need for change, proving grateful for support, finds it easier to stay stuck in old patterns. or a family who seemed headed toward reconciliation falls into turmoil again. or a period of peace in the neighborhood is upset by another rash of violence.

our lives are teeming with "pests" that interrupt growth. maybe it's addiction. maybe fear, or denial, selfishness, anger, greed. some we choose ourselves and others are inflicted upon us, but the list that tears and destroys is endless. when it seems no green could appear and never a blossom would show, we need to trust the Master Gardener. the One who plants life in us will continue to tend to what's begun. and recognize this: when we serve others in the love of Jesus, pour out our time in prayer for them, willingly invite them into our families and become a shining light in their midst through our faithfulness, something of life gets rooted in their hearts and in ours.

which seeds will take root for good, we may not know. just keep going back to the garden. water, prune, and address those irksome pests. and picture the garden full and vibrant one day, flowing over with beauty.

eyewitness

sounding out story
unlikely glory found
on a street disrepute

where fists pounded rage
provoking blade and thrown
bloodied shirt to the dirt

i saw the hand hold the piece
cracks unleashed
nonchalant to the air
and i saw the Hand choke back
with resolve any harm
meant for here

more of the story
finds you next day
clearing dross from
the derelict lot down the way
your hands became four
became six and then eight
ten or twelve took the space for clean
fun being missed

next day came force
with another ten, twelve
stretching out weapons in charge
charged with offenses a few
put away but root-stretched
abides the illicit

i still witness hands
bent lawless and listen
to voices hurl hate
and i still expect the Hand
that is boundless to heal
and to heave away pain

sounding out story
soon coming glory found
on a street wholly new

- c. l. atkinson

startled by peace

we are exhausted this week. last week brought these separate incidences to our block: a stabbing and shooting, a productive visit from the U.S. Marshals, a drug raid, and multiple, minor, unrelated arrests. all directly followed my post about the good gift of home i have here. interesting? that'd be a gross understatement.

do you know isaiah 43:1-2? it is part of a passage of scripture that i first remember reading at a time when fear had filled my being like i'd never imagined it could. these words of promise washed me then, and over the years i've looked back on that gift of peace through easy and difficult times alike. this week, after the occurrences mentioned above, two or three people mentioned these verses to me. through the bit of shock, i am realizing i have never felt so close to the kind of overwhelming danger described in isaiah, even as i recall other moments in the past where i truly have escaped peril. what may be the most risky place i have ever lived is likely among a thousand other places i have been where destruction or death was at my door but i was simply unaware.


But now, this is what the LORD says—
he who created you, O Jacob,
he who formed you, O Israel:
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.


oh, praise God, who has named me! i am his and he is ever my Savior! bullets were fired in front of my porch, more than grazing my car. neighbors witnessed me giving information to the police. a drug raid happened right outside my window. i 've seen many frightening events, yet my kids have missed them all. and through the course of these events, among other merry things, we as a family have played on our sidewalks, met new neighbors, put plants in our yard and welcomed more first-time visitors to our home.

i may be tired and a little disoriented, but the Hand of peace guards me. my sheltered heart can live with joy and find rest in the midst of this torrent.

an anniversary with God

i love my new house.
no, we haven't moved, the entire exterior has been rehabbed through a grant from our city. (the photo at left shows our old porch steps.) this 19th century home, with its shady history and deteriorating shell, now has all new windows, doors, roofs and gutters, plus a very nice shade of paint. we are put at ease by these major repairs we could not afford to do ourselves, and our neighbors are celebrating with us this tremendous gift.

i love our neighborhood.
oh, it's no utopia! gunfire, drug deals and domestic brawls are fairly common. blaring, obscene music and foul language are the norm, plus folks of every age have little respect for private or public property. in fact, someone kindly shot about two dozen BBs through our newly painted siding this week. however, the constant presence of people sure makes me feel alive. the good is right up alongside the bad and the really ugly, and it makes life pretty palpable.

the slightest bit of hope is tangible, too. people are not afraid to admit that hope is needed. the shamelessness and in-your-face manner create a receptiveness to relationship that's harder to find in "upstanding" communities. sadly, those are often places of well-kept secrets necessitating strong walls that curb any form of hospitality or true brotherhood. doesn't sound superior nor desirable to me.

today i celebrate the 3-year anniversary of God's promise to us: a house. i hadn't asked him for one, but he knew my desires. i longed to live immersed in diversity. it'd be a place where we'd know all our neighbors, sharing ourselves and our space with them. a throng of kids would be of necessity. and we would live so close to others that they would see, and one day know themselves, the life we've found in Jesus' other Kingdom. the promise was about all he'd provide both in and about that home.

two years ago, he gave us the house. if you have journeyed long with us, you know the road here wasn't easy. now and then, i get physically shaken by simply recalling the valleys we walked through in the first days here. and the daily stressors on our street are innumerable, as i mentioned. living well in this place requires sacrifice, humility, endurance . . . and more. yet this is God's promised gift to us. he has given it in the shape he's designed and we are faithfully letting him shape how we use it. it is here where i increasingly find that what i dreamed of simply cannot rival the marvelous gift he's given. nearly every longing i had for a house has already been fulfilled, in extra measure!

when God said, "ask me for a house," i was astonished. "isn't that trivial, so temporal, God?" then, i realized he was serious and that i was questioning his intimate love for me. i like that "receiving" isn't only defined as getting or collecting. to receive also means to welcome and meet with, to listen to and respond to. as he always does, God wanted to give something of eternal worth. i am so glad i didn't miss it, and i pray we all keep growing up in recognizing what God desires to give and in welcoming what he chooses for us.

i am in love with a Good God.

the monsters to fear

i saw the photos and read the story of our vandalized walking path. here's what most "burns me up," as my dad would say. the destructive act? the fire starters themselves? no, i think it's the foolish insolence of online responders. (note to self, once again: it is best to avoid reading such comments!)


cross over

found out the bridge was burned
real bridge, real fire
some one dared destroy
some thing we all enjoyed
public property
how uncivil

how uncivil
public commentary
slander pointing fingers
to find imagined solace
in eluding inner vandals
whose bridges we've tried to burn


*poem written by c. l. atkinson for random acts of poetry

why not?

i haven't included any poems here. however, poetry is summoning again because i've been neglectful. again. this month is national poetry month, so why not include one now? it's a little one i wrote in response to someone else's prodding. (thanks, l.l. and RAP!) i think i need to set up another blog for this kind of thing. that, or change "ours" a bit. so far it's only seen entries from me and doesn't have the exact shape i imagined. hmm.

join me. inhale and exhale some more sweet lines this month.


because it's april

why write a poem
words to share
to dare spill what's within
like the clutter on the desk
seem unrelated worthless
yet have their place
tape measure, hole puncher, dollar bill
and the camera's back is turned
as if to say
none of you matter

- c. l. atkinson

sometimes God answers fast

i was struggling with something today, wrestling a little with God but mostly with my own mind. i reached the point of decision: tonight, after the kids are in bed, i must read my Bible and pray. i just need to be with my Father. i just need him. it gave me some peace to simply hope for that time.

immediately after o. was tucked in, i closed myself in another room, took out my journal and got out some thoughts. then i read and started to pray about one chapter in particular. while i conversed with Jesus about leaning on him like a brother (consider hebrews 2), i got a new picture of faith.

that wasn't the only new picture. i had answers to the very thing i'd been struggling over earlier in the day. i had barely broached the subject with God, and CLICK! on went a switch, and he answered my confusion. i found him and i found what i needed.

praise the Lord of life! he hears us when we call and is found when we search for him unreservedly. and even reservedly.

try him.

paul and us, for you

"now i rejoice in what was suffered for you, and i fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ's afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the church. i have become its servant by the commission God gave me to present to you the word of God in its fullness -- the mystery that has been kept hidden for ages and generations, but is now disclosed to the saints. to them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. we proclaim him, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone perfect in Christ. to this end i labor, struggling with all his energy, which so powerfully works in me."

everything under the sun

took a lovely walk around the neighborhood with the littles today. R and i chatted. A relaxed in her stroller. we stopped at a park for a while.

taking in all the sights, you can't help but notice the spring paradox. fresh greenery and budding trees with newness in the air, all mingled with burned out, boarded up homes strewn with rubbish and left to decay. what was once pristine and grand lies in wait for exploitation. R and i talked about one house with its gorgeous brick porch. he suggested buying it. i said i wish someone would . . . make it all new.

though the mess is commonplace here, it doesn't feel natural. only disheartening to a heart where eternity has been placed, as Ecclesiates says. the building up and tearing down, the keeping and throwing away, it's a mystery to me. a mystery to be embraced as i look toward the One whose works will endure, like a tapestry not worn.

among other things new, i do get to take part in a little home rebuilding. recently, a contractor began the city's rehab project on the exterior of our house. and i have many hopes for the inside that are bit by bit being fulfilled. the house has surely had its own seasons. i am thrilled to be part of this mending, laughing, planting, healing and gathering time!

design in me

the little ones fed and occupied, two loads of laundry down, dishes cleaned, dinner planned. i was mopping floors while pondering this recent fixation on remaking the rooms in my house. we've lived here nearly two years but the renovations and decorating and other processes have been, well, a process. most of my walls are still bare, poor walls. however, i've been given new license to jump in. i've gotten in over my head and i'm LOVING it! even though it's still ninety-nine percent in my head...

i am a "closet" designer. there's vivid recollection of dreaming up outfits for myself - in my head - as a preteen. and i can spend hours and days exploring color or texture with absolutely no goal in mind. did anyone else have one of those groovy drafting kits for home interiors as a kid? i pulled mine out many years later, wishing i had an adult version. in fact, my favorite part of playing in the woods as a child was designing imaginary houses from the tree limbs and roots, shrubs and fallen sticks. as deeply satisfying as creating lovely spaces for my family with a near-imaginary pocketbook!

these kinds of pleasures energize me. ask kenn. i am a different person after looking through photos of beautiful things. and that's what i asked God about while cleaning the floors - vibrantly fueled by the images of what my living room could look like one day. the question pains the artist and it hardly matters that countless have asked and answered it before. we all dance around the subject in our own way. isn't this just frivolous?

so while mopping, God reminded me. he's [a] Designer. i hadn't really forgotten, i just hadn't heard it from him lately. he said something like, "you know that word about the lilies, right? i clothe them on purpose. and what about every other masterpiece of mine? i know you don't think all that beauty is a waste. night and day you find me there, in created things. what would this planet, this life be without the splendor i've shown? or even without the treasures man has fashioned?"

when will my little heart learn? God has made me like himself. and creating is somehow my way of sharing my Beautiful with others. that is never a trivial, frivolous thing.

like snow in summer...

"like snow in summer 
or rain in harvest, 
honor is not fitting for a fool."

snowing yet again! you won't hear a complaint from me. i asked for it. i even thought it was funny today when i read that first verse from proverbs 26. it wasn't so amusing to realize shortly after: i'd been a fool. a fool a bit like haman, that is. he's the man from the biblical story of esther who enjoyed vast wealth and high position and grand favor but had one complaint: all this gives me no satisfaction as long as i see that jew mordecai sitting at the king's gate.

no, i don't know anyone named mordecai and i enjoy very little money and power. but a bit like haman's, my own dreams have come true. the picture of life that i'd hoped for just a few years back is now a reality. how many people can say that? still, i had chosen haman's response when not long ago i'd said, God, i am just not satisfied with that!

you see, there was a situation i found myself in (to no blame of my own) from which God had released me. instead of accepting freedom, i chose to hold onto it like the stubborn child i am learning i am. there was just one outcome of which i wanted more control. i built my own gallows.

at the end of chapter five in esther, haman shares this one gripe with his wife and friends. i wonder if  they weren't drunk or at least half-joking, but they tell him to have a gallows built and get the king to hang mordecai. then it'll all be great, they imply. it actually sounds like a plan to haman.

do you know what happens the next day?! it's what alarmed me when i realized how i'd been clutching just one thing, one grievance, dissastisfied. that one complaint could have been my own death! and my dreams would have died with me. like haman.

thank my Redeemer, he rescued me. as he always does and promises he will, he saved me by showing me how i'd been the fool. yes, just like that fool i only read about in proverbs. he said it was not fitting for me, his redeemed.

and that's where i'm not like haman.

it's okay: a work in progress

i think i'm learning a little bit more about ambiguity and unanswered questions, about striving and settling.

like this weekend. i was six hours away from home and my babies, and my sweet 3-year-old ended up in the hospital. it was likely he'd be just fine, but i really did fear i might lose him. now i look back on it and think, was there more to take away from that experience? should my reaction to his healing have been as intense as my fear of his failing? did i miss something?

yes, i'm learning.
it's okay to not know how to respond.
it's okay to wonder what's going on and not come up with an answer.
it's okay to revel in the glimpse of something without jumping to seize the whole picture.
it's okay to speak what i sense is utterly true, even when it's depths i cannot grasp nor wholly express.
it's okay to stay put when divergence enters the room.
it's okay to feel less than inspired after a conversation.
it's okay to start something i may not finish today.
it's okay to try something, not knowing where it'll take me.

it's more than okay.

i am learning a little bit more about my compulsion to get everything just right. mind, matter, me, you.

i'll probably pursue more insight into the crazy weekend, but i think i'll be okay if i don't.

worth the wait

i had the feeling (read hope) that we would get a "real" winter this year.
and more is yet to come! yahoo!

a story about hospitality

it was dark, it must have been late, dinner had not yet been served. in fact, i was busy trying to prepare it when i heard a quiet tapping on the back door. our backyard is enclosed with a fence which  the neighborhood kids know to enter only after they've asked permission. it's a general rule when we aren't in the yard.

earlier, the knocking at the front door had begun to get out of hand - kids being kids and being silly but wearing on us hungry and tired adults. so when the knock at the back door was heard, i was irked. i left my cooking to peer out a window, to catch a little pest in action. sure enough, someone was standing on my fence. the darkness hid who it was, so i just banged on the window and motioned a command to get down. whoever it was tried to gesture their explanation to me, which i assumed was unwarranted. i turned to the back door to get down to the bottom of this interruption.

let me not forget, the tap i'd heard had turned to two or three knocks and then a call of my name - Miss Cheri?! - but i still refused to answer. my task of making dinner i had determined to complete.

to my surprise and near horror when i opened the door, sweet d. was standing there cowering with tears in his eyes, explaining how some kids were threatening him.

oh my God, what have i done? i love this dear boy, small of stature yet so tall of heart. he has come to my door to find refuge. literally. and i've refused him. to offer a place for any one to be at home and find what they need for the journey was the hope-filled intention of my heart, and it had been realized. in an instant, i locked that door.

thank God for his mercy and justice. over us all. d.'s tears broke me and i offered my deep regret in apology. he came inside and wiped away his tears with a bit of shame. not long after, his cousins and siblings came to walk him home and a piece of myself walked away with him. i think it won't return.

i am so broken. jesus still comes to my house. let me not miss him again.