Living Water

to you, daddy, on thanksgiving

dear daddy,

on this thanksgiving day i just want to tell you that i am bowled over with gratitude for the abundant place you have brought me into since last thanksgiving. when i stop and really notice it, i see that i am floating in a stream of unceasing grace, needing never to work at swimming, but only to relax into what you are doing in my life.

you have brought me out of the pit, Papa, and put my feet on solid ground. you have anointed this previously melancholic woman with joy and restored my childlike faith and my playfulness. you have uncomplicated me. i run in the path of your commands, for you have set my heart free (psalm 119:32).

you have filled me with dreams that are so delicious and life-giving; dreams that i never would have seen coming, but which are absolutely perfect for me.

you have given me to this spiritual family at the boiler room where i am being healed and loved and taught up in the way that i should go. i want you to know that i do realize just how amazingly special and unique this is and i know i've done nothing at all to deserve this life, these friends, this work.

Jesus, you have called me to follow you, wholeheartedly, from this day forward. you have married my heart and shown me how you are my husband and i your wife. my soul has been deeply satisfied by knowing your love in this way.

whenever you have gently peeled my fingers from their grip on career, paycheck, nights out on the town, dating, small luxuries, and personal space... the benefits have always obviously outweighed any costs. you have never left me hanging and everywhere that you have called me to take another leap of faith you have provided abundantly for me in that place. you have filled in the empty spaces with more of yourself.

so i know now that you are absolutely trustworthy and you love me so heartily that on those precious occasions when i am actually able to feel that love, it takes my breath away.

Holy Spirit, you have been my teacher in the most literal sense and your wisdom is the joy of my heart and the most reliable guide i have ever known. you have begun to entrust me with spiritual gifts of discernment and knowledge so that i can partner with you in your purposes of ushering others more deeply into your presence and Kingdom. you have allowed me to see miracles of exorcisms and healings, people set free from what bound them and others provided for in supernatural ways. you have expanded my territory for your name's sake.

i have heard you speak and clung tenaciously to those words and images from you, eagerly awaiting their fulfillment in faith. i believe you, God.

you have gently convicted me of sin and met me there to bring about repentance and healing, both. and in this process of purification, you have made me more in tune with your still, small voice so that my fellowship with you is restored.

i want for no good thing.

and here's the best part: i know that for the rest of my life i can look forward to more of the same in increasing measure, as i submit myself to you.

i love you, Daddy. i love you, Jesus. i love you, Holy Spirit. "thank you" is not adequate.

psalm 84

1 How lovely is your dwelling place,
O LORD Almighty!

2 My soul yearns, even faints,
for the courts of the LORD;
my heart and my flesh cry out
for the living God.

3 Even the sparrow has found a home,
and the swallow a nest for herself,
where she may have her young—
a place near your altar,
O LORD Almighty, my King and my God.

4 Blessed are those who dwell in your house;
they are ever praising you.
Selah

5 Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.

6 As they pass through the Valley of Baca,
they make it a place of springs;
the autumn rains also cover it with pools.

7 They go from strength to strength,
till each appears before God in Zion.

8 Hear my prayer, O LORD God Almighty;
listen to me, O God of Jacob.
Selah

9 Look upon our shield, O God;
look with favor on your anointed one.

10 Better is one day in your courts
than a thousand elsewhere;
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God
than dwell in the tents of the wicked.

11 For the LORD God is a sun and shield;
the LORD bestows favor and honor;
no good thing does he withhold
from those whose walk is blameless.

12 O LORD Almighty,
blessed is the man who trusts in you.

note to self

Open up, soul. Open up. Let them see you, let yourself be amendable. Don’t be so concerned with protecting your perfectly organized persona down to every last detail. Stop being such a Uniqueness Snob. A life of service to the poor, if it comes out of your pursuit of uniqueness/specialness rather than a heart of love and service is nothing to God at all. He just wants your heart of love and service. He just wants your heart. And let Him make you into a bundle of paradoxical nonsense if He wants to. Let Him ambush, hijack and right-out surprise you.

Snow Day (Younging)

this morning we played in the snow
we had a snow ball fight
we danced and leapt off picnic tables
we chased jenn and the little ones down the alley
(further proof that since moving here,
i have been younging)

poem-ish

a peace has settled down over the women's apartment (chelsea-brooke)
made deeper by the snow falling softly outside its windows
so welcoming that i long to cuddle up in it
it is stillness and rest and joy
danny, michael, and chelsea are all strumming
and worshiping right now
and from where i sit, i hear them all
our voices are loosed
i've just spent 3 hours
laying on the futon under down
freshly painted toenails (i want to be pretty)
no food in this belly, no emails in this head,
i'm meditatively praying,
bathing him and the space between us in prayer
so thorough that i can't imagine having missed a thing
and reading about and contemplating poverty,
development, serving, charity, empowerment
praying this fire in me to be fanned
make me into a kingdom woman, God
later we head over to the Gold Ave House
for tri-community west side prayer
bless these friendships with humility and unity
we have the same blood in our veins

come winter with us (or, merry christmas)

i just took a nap in jesus' arms in the prayer garage, bundled up in a warm down blanket, with the heater running, just to stay warm. the days are cold now and the nights colder yet. the blood in my veins is thickening and slowing and more and more i want to be tucked in under blankets, cupping mugs of hot coffee in my hands, and otherwise hibernating.

so now, with the weather colder, i think about my homeless friends and ache a little at the thought of them wearing 5 layers of clothes, wrapped up in the blankets and sleeping bags they've gotten from us, taking to dumpsters and bridges for shelter from the frost and snow. even with all of this, i know they are still cold. and so they'll drink more (if such a thing is even possible) to generate an internal heat, some sort of bizarre immunity from the unbearable michigan winter chill.

and even though i know that they've chosen this life by repeatedly choosing the bottle or the syringe or just their angry pride or sloth over opportunities for new life, it still doesn't seem right to leave them there.

tony said emails are starting to roll into the stockbridge boiler room account with inquiries about what they can do for the poor, through us, this holiday season. we appreciate this, but we are somewhat at a loss.

people become suddenly very concerned about the poor in november and december: food baskets, christmas feasts served at the homeless shelter, toys for tots, donated hats and gloves. i don't mean to knock this because any outpouring of generosity probably originates from the heart of God in them. but i wonder if we were serious about this burden for the poor every day of the year.

if you want to give a gift to the poor this holiday season, would you be willing to shelter a bum - just one - until the last snow falls in march? would you consider paying the heating bills for one of our low-income neighbors until spring rolls around? would you do that? would i do that?

because even if they are drunks and wife-beaters, child-abusers and ex-convicts, our call to care for the poor is about us being faithful to Jesus, not them being faithful to Jesus.

i'm dreaming about what it would be like to invite one of our homeless friends to winter with us at the boiler room. if we were to do that, this is what i think it would mean: i think it would mean having a straightforward conversation initially...

Me: do you want to spend another winter under this bridge?
Them: no, man, it's real tough.
Me: would you be willing to put down the bottle for the winter if it meant you could stay somewhere warm?
Them: well, i might try that. but i have a sickness.
Me: yeah, i know that. i know it's a lot to ask. but what if people were gonna help you through that?
Them: yeah, okay.
Me: we'd love to give you our (a) spare room or (b) the heated garage where there's a comfy couch to stay in until the spring time. we'd love you to live with us and eat with us until it's warm enough to hit the streets again.
Them: wow, really? that would be great (OR maybe their pride would be hurt and they'd not be willing to accept it, in which case we let them go because Jesus always started with "do you WANT to be well?" and if they didn't, he didn't chase them down or force himself on them).
Me: great, gather your things and when you get here, we'll sit down and talk about what the rules of this family are, so that you know exactly what to expect. we'll have a good winter together. (and the rules would be that we are a praying house and a meal-sharing house and a sober house and a tidy house and they are invited to participate in all of these things).

We're not expecting them to become 100% turned-around Jesus followers by March. we're not demanding them to have jobs, to reconcile with their families, or to give up swearing... we're not anticipating getting to the root of the societal ills that put them in this position in the first place... but we ARE expecting that they are capable of respecting the culture of our family/home and contributing to it meaningfully during their stay...and we are expecting that they will encounter Jesus as they live alongside of us, and will have an opportunity to respond to that.

Just one homeless person sleeping in your house or garage. Just one.

Just one family's heating bill. Just one.

Merry Christmas.

5 minus 3

once there were four + one more
now there are just two
(two lost to africa, one to a better fit)

keeping secrets

i'm keeping secrets with the Lord right now and i know it's right for me to do so for a while. this way he becomes my confidant and it is only his voice that influences me reactions and decisions and the direction of my heart. it is he alone i turn to with my fears, questions, hopes, and excitements. this means i've been talking to him like most girls talk to their best friends -- verbally processing it all aloud with him in the quietness of my bedroom or the prayer garage or the car, where no one else can hear. i'm enjoying this time with him, though my tongue is twitching to talk to my earthly friends. not yet, no not now. the time is not here. this is the secret place.

coming around the mountain

i'm behind on blogging but this is what i want you to know:
there is never a dull moment in this woman's heart or mind.
it's almost too much.
i don't think i'll attempt to completely "catch up" here.

the floodgates have opened again with my God and me.
the journal pages are getting scribbled upon with holy fury,
in an attempt to put on paper every little thing He's teaching me.

here are some shorts:

1
i am ugly when i act like moses single-handedly judging all the issues of all the people in the desert, taking on a weighty responsibility too heavy for me to bear.
i have been so uptight, trying to manage how non-interns act in the prayer garage - wanting to subdue them and rein them in (because i'm insecure about my position). this is sin and it is ugly.
(besides, whoever is not against us if for us and i want to be one who raises others up, empowers them, and releases them... not one who stifles them so she can have the limelight)

2
i don't want to control or manage anymore, God.
i want to lay continually in green pastures with you.

3
i want to schedule Brooke School - study periods to dig into intentional, directed Bible study and also studying books about topics God has impressed on my heart (e.g., enneagram, poverty) and/or that keep a fire lighted in my heart.
i want to learn in a way that crosses from theory into change and action.

4
i try too hard and work too hard at worship - scrunching up my face in concentration, attempting to work myself into a fervor and passion.
instead, what is better is to come to him with open, empty hands, waiting in a relaxed and expectant posture to be filled by him.
worship is his work.

5
i thought maybe i didn't have a fire in my belly for the lost and the poor. but then the holy spirit connected some dots. he pointed out that the passion i DO have, which is for broken people to be whole, restored, and free, IS a passion for the poor and the lost. that's my part to play in bringing the kingdom to them.

6
dreams resurfacing about being a boiler room mom/abbess.

7
i am so many faces
i am womanly and a girl
i am professional and a playful
i am competent and needy
i am broken for the poor and also self-indulgent
i crave organic simplicity and also luxuriousness
i am a low maintenance princess
all of these are me
i can move in all these ways
its the fullness of maturity,
this courage to be a paradox

hosting and pilgrimmaging

there is a part of me that wants to wait to write until i've filtered, processed, and recomposed all the pieces into something linear and tidy, but my heart and my head are so full that i am choosing instead to do something far more stream-of-consciousness style.

i've been in madison since saturday evening on what was supposed to be a brief, two night stay and turned into four. because jesus loves me enough to get me stuck in a place where he can do some healing, speak some truth, pour out some love, give me one giant hug.

circumstantially its an unremarkable story. see, chip and i drove to madison to return the transit team to their home there. we were having so much fun with the madison community that we decided to stay a bit longer. and then the car broke down (as in it needed to be towed to a garage to be fixed) and the fixing took a long time. and it was not until this morning that leaving town was a real option.

so what filled those hours of madison time was this: homecooked meals with the community, neon bowling, spontaneous worship sessions, The God Story teachings, walking around downtown, lazy conversations on the living room rug, naps, time in the word, exhortations from brothers and sisters, prayer ministry, laughter, photography, etc. etc.

and in my heart worlds were shifting. and God has heard my prayers of every sort. he's ushered me once more into his presence and set me in a place of refreshing. and i am freer and lighter and giddier than i was when i went to that place. my heart's been opened. the prophetic words of a sister pierced me with love. the playfulness of my little sisters and brothers younged me.

recieving. this is one of the key things. she prayed that my receiving doors would be opened in the name of jesus. able to recieve the free love of God and others, able to recieve a compliment, able to recieve rest and permission and all the rest. and to drop that arrogant posture that assumes that though i can give out to others, they cannot give anything of value back to me. that's sin and it's gross.

and we need to be woken up. I need to be woken up. and to chase hard after God with new energy and discipline. he's pushing me back to His written word right now, saying "know my heart, know what matters to me." and at the same time, he's holding me in this close and grace-filled embrace.

i want to learn. i want to study the word with more diligence and to read books that keep my heart alive for the passions He's planted in my heart. i want to dream again, too. yes, i want to dare to dream (plant your dreams in me, God). and one of those dreams, that's been there a while, but is now resurfacing, is to plant a boiler room and to mother it.

(this is unfinished, but i'm posting it anyway, raw)

hug ingredients

God hugged me today and the ingredients of the hug were this:
a good practical joke that yielded laughter
a bike ride in the sun with friends
the mothering grace of jenn
permission granted to take a road trip
a deep and cleansing cry
song of songs chapters 3 and 4
a rest in the prayer garage
a baby named alexander
the exhortation from a friend named luis
the electric shivers of the holy spirit

also...
there are three 24-7 transit students staying at our house this week. their names are kiersty (18, indonesia), rachel (22, ireland), and alex (19, wisconsin). and i ask you this: in what other world are three complete strangers who are also marvelous and delightful individuals dropped into your home for a week? this is one of the perks of being part of this pilgrimaging, hospitality-practicing prayer movement.

voted

beyond the presidential candidate, my voting decisions for all other offices were based on some combination of listening prayer, gut instincts, and a vague desire to vote for women and the green party.

but i voted.