Category: Transformation

Posted on

Finding Sanctuary

 

image

When I first started this blog the title was Losing Sanctuary.  One of the definitions listed in the dictionary under “sanctuary”reads,

“A place where wildlife, especially those hunted for sport,
can take refuge and grow in safety from hunters”.

I have several sanctuaries.  One is my home.  I love my home,  simply because it’s so homey.  Another is my shower – that borders on TMI but I have some of my best conversations with God in there.  Another is my car.  My car is like my prayer closet.  Your sanctuary might be a friend, or maybe your marriage.  Your sanctuary might even be your children.  It could be a place – like the ocean or the mountains – wherever you might run for renewal.

One of my favorite sanctuaries is where I first observed grace in real life.  It was offered to me and many others like me. I was given immunity from who I really was; loved and well cared for despite my wobbly faith. I reveled in my first taste of grace and grew in its sweet balm, and I watched others do the same.  We still wobbled now and then, but my sanctuary and its people would come alongside and lift us up, offering us the encouragement we needed to live in the righteousness already in us, based on who we carried with us  – not the punishment we were entitled to.  It was there that I learned to listen for the dove’s voice.

Much like wildlife,  many of us came wounded to this sanctuary.  We were battered and bruised, we were  hunted by the world where some find sport in pointing a condemning finger at you, judging your actions, misunderstanding your motives, and laughing at your expense.  It was there that we found safety.  It was there that we were trusted.  It was there that we were given life-giving safety and we watched grace being lived out.  The caretaker of this sanctuary cared for us in ways we would never find again.  It wasn’t perfection, but there was beauty, and grace, and new life here.

And then it happened.  This strong sanctuary that I thought would withstand any strong wind was hit by a doozy – a storm bigger than I had ever experienced in my safe little world.  Could the foundation of grace within us hold this sanctuary together?  My naivety thought it would because I thought this sanctuary was immune to the divisiveness that can hide a coming storm.

The tricky part was that it was hard to recognize the storm at first.  It came disguised in little droplets of rain that wouldn’t arose anyone’s suspicions.  The caretaker moved on to care for another sanctuary and ours was soon wearing different shoes and caring for the sanctuary in foreign ways.  A change was made here.  A new sign there.  Doors were locked that we were use to walking through.  A nifty new emblem was designed to remind us that we were no longer who we were.  Changes that, in of themselves might not rattle the windows.  Soon an air of secrecy seeped in.

It’s hard to discern the line between different and messy.  I’m really OK with different – I actually do pretty well with change.  It’s good for you to change things up now and then. But before we knew it the winds howled and the shutters slammed against the sanctuary, and soon it seemed way beyond different.  Waters soon began leaking into the safe walls of the sanctuary and began to flood it’s foundation.

What I’ve learned is that the best environment for great accomplishment is an environment of trust, safety, and authenticity.  If you try to accomplish anything outside of that kind of environment, you will fail miserably and miss the authenticity of relationship that is needed to remember why you do what you do in the first place.  Then you go from a sanctuary of grace to a sanctuary of law, rules and regulations.

How the heck did this happen?  How could God allow this? I mean really….if sanctuary is where He is, how could He allow this to happen?  I was certain that God had been the center of this sanctuary, so would He not protect my place of refuge and grace?  Surely He would protect this sanctuary from this calamity, and come to our aid!

But He didn’t.  He sat on His hands and allowed pain and suffering to refine us.  Soon there were reactions, hurt feelings, then a spirit of mistrust fell over the sanctuary.  Hearts were broken, including mine.  Friends left the sanctuary to find a safer place, and I fought against the losses with all I had in me.  Did I play any part in this hard?  I wanted to fix it and seek justice, but a wise man once told me not to fight other people’s battles.  So I withdrew and tried to continue to pursue the grace that I knew had to still be there…somewhere hidden beneath the floorboards.  I became emotionally and spiritually stuck.

I ended up getting lost in what the sanctuary had been, and not what God might be doing to make it better.  I focused on the place and it kept me from remembering who I was in Christ – who was actually in me. And I started to believe that if I were more spiritually diligent and devoted, then I’d feel OK about the sanctuary.  I did and it didn’t help.  I felt the flood waters rising.  But God, as He always does, met me in my pain.  He whispered to me that I would never find sanctuary in anything apart from Him.  Big giant duh!

So I’m learning new and exciting things about grace and maneuvering through the hard.  Here is what I’m learning in this sanctuary in the midst of the flood:

  • God is less interested in sanctuaries than He is in BEING your sanctuary.
  • I am the most important sanctuary I need to be focusing on because He lives within me.
  • God is not absent in our suffering.
  • There is great spiritual growth and maturity that comes from hardship and trials (BGD!).
  • My ability to deal with the hard has more to do with my relationship with God, than it does with the hardship.
  • I need to focus on what my responsibility is to those who live within this sanctuary to help them heal and grow through the hard (thanks CP).
  • If I am going to blog about grace, I had darn well better be willing to give it and be a part of it, and experience it in community here in this ever-changing sanctuary.
  • I am much better at writing about the truths I love so much than I am at living them.

How’s that for honesty?  Yikes.  A precious friend of this sanctuary said to me recently… “God must love [your sanctuary] SO much that He would allow it to go through this refining”.  So I struggle to be brave in the midst of the hard.  It’s uncomfortable.  I don’t like it.  I don’t understand it….but that’s OK.  It’s not my job to understand.  Once again God is teaching me about trusting Him.  Dang I wish I’d get this trust thing right.

So the truth of the matter is that I really haven’t lost this sanctuary – Christ is in me.  He is my sanctuary, and maybe I was making this one somewhat of an idol.  I dunno.  There’s a lot I don’t know.  All I know is that I’m walking through the hard with the help of the One who sees all and knows all and is walking me through the pain step by step.  So I’m finding new possibilities in this sanctuary.  And maybe new sanctuaries.

Once again, the hard is cloaked in love and grace.

Posted on

S.F.P.T.S.D.

I have this nasty habit.  I tend to retreat when I’m overwhelmed by life.  Whether it be from my husband, my friends, and even from God – I retreat into my little world and try to figure out myself how I’m going to survive whatever the latest hardship is.  Mind you, I don’t do this often, or even consciously, but when I’m overwhelmed I tend to withdraw.  But the fact of the matter is that by retreating I am saying that I doubt that God knows what is best for me, or that He sees my need, or that He has my back.  And whether or not I do it on purpose, my withdrawl tells the real story.  The bottom line is that I just am not that great at trusting God.

One of the biggest events that I put on at the church where I work is called Summerfest – our version of VBS.  A few years back we had 600 kids coming to this three day event, with 400 volunteers, and it was the highlight of everyone’s summer.  Everyone but me.

image

I was asked to be the Director of Summerfest twice in years past and I turned it down both times because I wanted to reduce the stress in my life.  Well, the third year it was “assigned” to me and I was not a happy camper.  This thing takes months to plan, and the stress can be overwhelming.   Are you kidding?…you must be smokin’ crack!

The first steps of planning Summerfest begin with choosing a theme and picking a Bible verse to go with that theme.  Then you have to find lead coordinators for various aspects of Summerfest next, followed by overseeing the planning of activities, and program content for the PK-K program, the Gr. 1-5 program, and the Middle School program.  My predecessor (also the pastor’s wife who was like the pied piper of volunteers) could simply mention a need casually and she’d have people falling at her feet to help.  Me, not so much.

After that there is the coordination of various meetings, constant email communications, and more meetings.  In the midst of all that there is the planning of food for hundreds of volunteers, as well as the pulling together of buses and the pickup of over 60 kids from four different kids outreach programs in the city.  Do you see why I might be a little anxious?  In the midst of all of this I am supposed to be praying fervently for everyone and everything Summerfest.  Oops….I may have fallen a bit short in that area with my eyes focused on my stress.

Then there’s the coordination of a jabillion documents and signage that we use with an endeavor like this, and just that makes my eyes roll back in my head.  We even have a POD that we rent yearly that is packed full of Summerfest supplies that gives me anxiety every year it’s delivered.  Finally, you have to enlist the help of about 300 volunteers to run activities, fill security roles, be group leaders, and feed people.  That also involves writing and rewriting job descriptions over and over again.  This is not my favorite time of year.

But in March for the past two years I’ve half-heartedly thrown myself into the planning of Summerfest – kicking and screaming the whole way.  Not a great testimony of doing something to the glory of God, right?  With dwindling numbers at my church in recent years, I made some program and format changes since it’s been harder and harder to find volunteers and our number of kids has also dropped.  I began to stress and wonder if I was going to be able to pull this off. As if I am the driving force behind this whole schtick.  Summerfest is God’s baby, so whose voice to you suppose I’m listening to?  When I’m looking at the hardships more than God’s abilitiy to overcome them, you know I’ve taken my eyes off Jesus and they’re more on me and my abilities.

I braced myself for what I thought was going to be the worst Summerfest of all time. I was sure the new format would bomb.  I thought I’d get plenty of complaints about changes that didn’t work.  The lower number of kids would surely make things noticeably awkward.  I wish I could say that I was a better example of trust.

By stressing and being anxious (leading to losing sleep and poor health) am I not really telling God that I don’t trust Him to handle my problems?  When the hardships come – and they will – we sometimes think we’re justified in doing our own thing and relying on our own strength.  We spend less time praying and more time trying to fix things.  Then we’re overwhelmed and retreat from people and God, and hope that even in  our disobedience that God will cut us some slack because He certainly knows how stressed we are.  We go our own way, and the stress gets worse.  We shut ourselves inside our refusal to allow God to handle the problem and go into fix-it mode.  But despite our disobedience, if we stop for a moment and invite Him into the equation, God’s quiet voice whispers to us “be still….I’ve got this.”

The good news is that Summerfest 2016 is over.  Praise Jesus!  I’m exhausted and suffering from what I like to call S.F.P.T.S.D….Summerfest Post-Tramatic Stress Disorder.  I need a glass of wine, a good massage and a week on a beach somewhere.  But despite my best efforts to jump on the fix-it train….God, in His grace, has allowed me to seee His work despite myself, and He’s quietly waited for me to catch up with His plans.

All those things I thought would go wrong – not one of them happened.  Instead I heard things like “this is the best Summerfest we’ve had in years”, and “I love the new format”, and “I like Summerfest with less kids – it’s less crowded.”  Well I’ll be doggone.  I wish my faith matched my words more often.

If I ever have to do this again (and that’s a big IF) I hope that I do a better job of keeping my eyes on Jesus more than myself.  If I can do that, then hopefully I’ll be less stressed and more able to point others to Jesus.  That way I’ll be a a better example of His faithfulness, and I feel like I’ll come  out the other side with a stronger faith.  This is lesson worth learning.

Pass me that glass of wine, would you?

 

Posted on

The Pace of Grace

I have three friends named Cindy.  Cindy One I’ve known for 28 years and is one of my dearest friends.  She probably has the most dirt on me.  Our kids were more like cousins,  grew up together and were in each others weddings.  Cindy Two I’ve known for 8 years and we’re family now since our kids recently got married.  She’s become way more than just an “in law”….more like a sister.  Cindy Three I met about 5 years ago in Bible Study and we just clicked.  You know the type.  There’s something familiar in them and you just enjoy one another.  We love to hang out together in Youth Group, birthday lunch groups, and we generally support and encourage one another.

Cindy Three is a dynamo – a true “go getter”.  She is always pushing herself, always gathering knowledge, sometimes too hard on herself, always pursuing being better, hard working, talented, always asking questions, and always inquisitive about everything.  She is amazing!  We once went to Disneyland together on a girls weekend and we would often misplace her.  “Where’s Cindy?” was a common phrase used that weekend but we’d usually find her off ahead of us looking at the flowers, or the architecture…walking at marathon speed at least 20 paces in front of us….on a mission to take it all in, never all that interested in idle chit-chat or what ride we were heading to next, but rather enjoying the beauty around her and not satisfied to meander at our snails pace.  Fully engaged and actively pursuing new ideas.  Her husband Nick says she has two speeds…full speed and off.

I can be like that when it comes to living life.   Out in front, paddling like crazy, making things happen, bringing people together, asking questions, pursuing grace….but truth be told it can wear me out.  So why am I always functioning at warp speed? I think it’s because so much of my life was spent living for ME and now that grace is beginning to dawn and make sense to me I want to make up for lost time.  I find myself way too busy sometimes – filling my days with ministry and relationship building and community and loving on those around me.  My friends think I’m crazy – always organizing something or going someplace or caring for someone.  But I’m at that place in life where there are probably a lot more days behind me than there are ahead of me, and I think what motivates that pace is that I don’t want to waste one more day on myself.  Throw my love languages in there too (acts of service and gift giving) and you’ve got a perfect recipe for a burnt-out penniless Sista!  But there’s been this still-small-voice in my head of late that is whispering that I need to slow down and learn how to find balance.

So after ducking the subject and trying to ignore the dove’s voice, God got creative and spoke to me at Cheesecake Factory last week when I had dinner with two dear friends that I taught school with a few years back.  My friend Mags used a phrase that I haven’t been able to shake.  “Going at the pace of grace“.  It’s stuck with me more than the 5 lbs. from the Mocha Chocolate Cheesecake.  It’s been digging under my skin and peeling open scabs that I’ve known are there but have ignored, all pertaining to why I push myself, my schedule, my life at the pace I do.  I understand that nothing I do (works) earns me anything, so how do I manage grace and my pace in this tangible way?  Not that all these other things I do don’t hold value, but if I’m running at break-neck speed I’ll most certainly miss the scenery.  Or have a heart attack.  Well, I think it starts with taking off your track shoes and taking time to be still.

In my search for more going at the pace of grace input, I found that Scotty Smith tweets on the subject of what grace looks like (He’s a Pastor, author, blogger and tweeter, but his credentials on his Facebook say “Husband, dad, friend, big sinner enjoying an even bigger grace, unlikely pastor, wanna-be-musician, writer-at-times, a guy with an odd sense of humor”).  I like him already.  He blogs daily prayers that are so real, and just like the old phrase “You might be a redneck if….”his tweets often start with “A sign you’re growing in grace:…..”.   I just love it.  Simple.  Easy.  Grace.

Here’s the tweet that hit me between the eyes:

 “A sign you’re growing in grace: 
People don’t experience you being as busy, hurried or restless. 
You’re learning the pace of grace.”
 

Ouch.  That’s the opposite of me.  I’m always busy – I’m always hurrying to accomplish something – put on another event – bring more people together – write one more blog (this is actually very therapeutic and a form of worship for me, as God and I work through some things together) – and the stress that I put myself through causes me to be restless.  Yikes.  I think if I were living less busy and more in collaboration with God I would probably accomplish more and it wouldn’t be just about checking boxes off my TO DO list.  I’d be letting God walk those 20 paces ahead of me, leading, and watching to see what He wants me to pursue.  I have so much to learn still about this grace thing.

Hmmm….this is something I’m going to have to look into further.  For now I know I need to slow the pace down a bit. For now I’m going to be a better student of learning to go at the pace of grace.  And I give my three Cindy’s and my Youth Group (see my post dated 5/30/2014) permission to hold me accountable.  Uh oh….I’m in trouble!