Corrie Ten Boom’s Letter to the Western Church

I’m posting this on my blog because I wanted to post it without any extra commentary on what’s she’s saying. This letter, written in 1974, is powerful, and if anyone can say these things it’s Corrie Ten Boom. For anyone unfamiliar with her story, Corrie Ten Boom is a Holocaust survivor. She was a Dutch Christian who, along with her family, helped many Jews escape the Holocaust during World War II. She was sent to a concentration camp because of her help to the Jewish people, and her sister died there. Some of her story is shared in the letter below.

I recently traveled to the Middle East, and since arriving back I feel especially burdened with the distance the American church has to the sufferings of our brothers and sisters, in many (if not most) parts of the world. This letter has only become more relevant since the time it was written. So I encourage you to read it, it’s significant.

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“The world is deathly ill. It is dying. The Great Physician has already signed the death certificate. Yet there is still a great work for Christians to do. They are to be streams of living water, channels of mercy to those who are still in the world. It is possible for them to do this because they are overcomers. Christians are ambassadors for Christ. They are representatives from Heaven to this dying world. And because of our presence here, things will change.

My sister, Betsy, and I were in the Nazi concentration camp at Ravensbruck because we committed the crime of loving Jews. Seven hundred of us from Holland, France, Russia, Poland and Belgium were herded into a room built for two hundred. As far as I knew, Betsy and I were the only two representatives of Heaven in that room.

We may have been the Lord’s only representatives in that place of hatred, yet because of our presence there, things changed. Jesus said, “In the world you shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” We too, are to be overcomers – bringing the light of Jesus into a world filled with darkness and hate.

Sometimes I get frightened as I read the Bible, and as I look in this world and see all of the tribulation and persecution promised by the Bible coming true. Now I can tell you, though, if you too are afraid, that I have just read the last pages. I can now come to shouting “Hallelujah! Hallelujah!” for I have found where it is written that Jesus said,

“He that overcometh shall inherit all things:
and I will be His God,
and he shall be My son.”

This is the future and hope of this world. Not that the world will survive – but that we shall be overcomers in the midst of a dying world. Betsy and I, in the concentration camp, prayed that God would heal Betsy who was so weak and sick.
“Yes, the Lord will heal me,” Betsy said with confidence. She died the next day and I could not understand it. They laid her thin body on the concrete floor along with all the other corpses of the women who died that day.

It was hard for me to understand, to believe that God had a purpose for all that. Yet because of Betsy’s death, today I am traveling all over the world telling people about Jesus.

There are some among us teaching there will be no tribulation, that the Christians will be able to escape all this. These are the false teachers that Jesus was warning us to expect in the latter days. Most of them have little knowledge of what is already going on across the world. I have been in countries where the saints are already suffering terrible persecution.

In China, the Christians were told, “Don’t worry, before the tribulation comes you will be translated – raptured.” Then came a terrible persecution. Millions of Christians were tortured to death. Later I heard a Bishop from China say, sadly,

“We have failed.
We should have made the people strong for persecution,
rather than telling them Jesus would come first.
Tell the people how to be strong in times of persecution,
how to stand when the tribulation comes,
to stand and not faint.”

I feel I have a divine mandate to go and tell the people of this world that it is possible to be strong in the Lord Jesus Christ. We are in training for the tribulation, but more than sixty percent of the Body of Christ across the world has already entered into the tribulation. There is no way to escape it.

We are next.

Since I have already gone through prison for Jesus’ sake, and since I met the Bishop in China, now every time I read a good Bible text I think, “Hey, I can use that in the time of tribulation.” Then I write it down and learn it by heart.

When I was in the concentration camp, a camp where only twenty percent of the women came out alive, we tried to cheer each other up by saying, “Nothing could be any worse than today.” But we would find the next day was even worse. During this time a Bible verse that I had committed to memory gave me great hope and joy.

“If ye be reproached for the name of Christ, happy are ye;
for the spirit of glory and of God resteth upon you;
on their part evil is spoken of,
but on your part He is glorified.”
(I Peter 3:14)

I found myself saying, “Hallelujah!
Because I am suffering, Jesus is glorified!”

In America, the churches sing, “Let the congregation escape tribulation”, but in China and Africa the tribulation has already arrived. This last year alone more than two hundred thousand Christians were martyred in Africa. Now things like that never get into the newspapers because they cause bad political relations. But I know. I have been there. We need to think about that when we sit down in our nice houses with our nice clothes to eat our steak dinners. Many, many members of the Body of Christ are being tortured to death at this very moment, yet we continue right on as though we are all going to escape the tribulation.

Several years ago I was in Africa in a nation where a new government had come into power. The first night I was there some of the Christians were commanded to come to the police station to register. When they arrived they were arrested and that same night they were executed. The next day the same thing happened with other Christians. The third day it was the same. All the Christians in the district were being systematically murdered.

The fourth day I was to speak in a little church. The people came, but they were filled with fear and tension. All during the service they were looking at each other, their eyes asking, “Will this one I am sitting beside be the next one killed? Will I be the next one?”

The room was hot and stuffy with insects that came through the screenless windows and swirled around the naked bulbs over the bare wooden benches. I told them a story out of my childhood.

“When I was a little girl, ” I said, “I went to my father and said,
“Daddy, I am afraid that I will never be strong enough to be a martyr for Jesus Christ.”
“Tell me,” said Father,
“When you take a train trip to Amsterdam,
when do I give you the money for the ticket?
Three weeks before?”

“No, Daddy, you give me the money for the ticket just before we get on the train.”

“That is right,” my father said, “and so it is with God’s strength.
Our Father in Heaven knows when you will need the strength to be a martyr for Jesus Christ.
He will supply all you need – just in time…”

My African friends were nodding and smiling.
Suddenly a spirit of joy descended upon that church and the people began singing,

“In the sweet, by and by, we shall meet on that beautiful shore.”

Later that week, half the congregation of that church was executed.
I heard later that the other half was killed some months ago.
But I must tell you something. I was so happy that the Lord used me to encourage these people, for unlike many of their leaders, I had the word of God. I had been to the Bible and discovered that Jesus said He had not only overcome the world, but to all those who remained faithful to the end, He would give a crown of life.

How can we get ready for the persecution?

First we need to feed on the Word of God, digest it, make it a part of our being. This will mean disciplined Bible study each day as we not only memorize long passages of scripture, but put the principles to work in our lives.

Next we need to develop a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Not just the Jesus of yesterday, the Jesus of History,
but the life-changing Jesus of today who is still alive
and sitting at the right hand of God.

We must be filled with the Holy Spirit. This is no optional command of the Bible, it is absolutely necessary. Those earthly disciples could never have stood up under the persecution of the Jews and Romans had they not waited for Pentecost. Each of us needs our own personal Pentecost, the baptism of the Holy Spirit. We will never be able to stand in the tribulation without it.

In the coming persecution we must be ready to help each other and encourage each other. But we must not wait until the tribulation comes before starting. The fruit of the Spirit should be the dominant force of every Christian’s life.

Many are fearful of the coming tribulation, they want to run. I, too, am a little bit afraid when I think that after all my eighty years, including the horrible Nazi concentration camp, that I might have to go through the tribulation also.
But then I read the Bible and I am glad.

When I am weak, then I shall be strong, the Bible says. Betsy and I were prisoners for the Lord, we were so weak, but we got power because the Holy Spirit was on us. That mighty inner strengthening of the Holy Spirit helped us through. No, you will not be strong in yourself when the tribulation comes. Rather, you will be strong in the power of Him who will not forsake you. For seventy-six years I have known the Lord Jesus and not once has He ever left me, or let me down.

“Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him”, (Job 13:15)
for I know that to all who overcome,
He shall give the crown of life.
Hallelujah!”
– Corrie Ten Boom – 1974

Moleskin Revelation…thoughts on “story”

A few weeks ago I found one of my old moleskine journals hiding in my backpack. I began paging through it, and midway through stumbled on this little nugget. I felt like it was what I needed to be reminded of in the moment, so I’m going to share it.

my-story

Revelation on “Story”

We always want to be the main characters of our stories/lives. In fact the wording “our stories” implies that idea. We control our stories, we narrate them, and we are the focus of all the events taking place.

In my life, that idea causes me to thrill seek. Because the best parts of stories are the climaxes right? Stories need characters to change. They need action, adventure, love, romance, tragedy, and comedy. Stories need conflict and momentum. And as we passively watch stories play out in books, movies, or theater, we are rooting for the hero. If all the other characters die or fade from the story we can bare it if the hero survives and “wins” out in the end. No matter the surrounding devastation.

But I think there’s something faulty in this embedded understanding of us as the heros of our stories. I think there might be just a twinge of deception. A slight side step off the path. But because the path is narrow even a slight side step, be it an honest mistake, be it a valid point, be it even admirable, is still off the path. And if we aren’t on the narrow path, what then? Well then we aren’t headed toward life.

What am I suggesting? Simply, that we aren’t actually the heros of our stories. But there’s a broader point here. One that the Lord pointed out to me when I was considering my family.

I come from a big family. I have seven siblings, and a large extended family. And recently I noticed that we each have our own “thing.” We have our own lives, but more specifically we have our own passions. And our passions are significant. Let me give some examples.

My parents are passionate about orphans and adoption. They’ve personally adopted three children (seen below), and they lead a ministry called Team 127, based on James 1:27.  Everywhere they look they see the needs of orphaned children across the world. And it seems that everything they hear reiterates God’s heart for these “forgotten little ones,” that God has by no means forgotten.

10488090_10204454109171409_2242976695648352482_n(Sister Lucy, Brothers Kaden and John-Merle, and Nephew Isaac, and Niece Sadie)

My Aunt Rhonda and Uncle Don are missionaries to European nations. They’re some of my favorite people to talk to as we carry very similar hearts for prayer and reaching the nations.

My older sister, Linsey, is one of my heros. I’ve always wanted to be like her and I still do. She’s one of the best moms I’ve ever met. Her methods of discipleship are practical. And she and her husband carry strong hearts for hospitality and simple obedience.

My brother, Kurtis, is a true servant leader. He’s 21-years-old, but is one of the men I most respect in my life. He’s has a heart overflowing in generosity, and he leads men both older and younger, because he walks his talk.

My uncle George (seen below) is a visionary, and runs a ministry at his church called “Love Works,” which reaches out to the local community in practical ways. He recently won a prestigious Martin Luther King Jr. award for his dedication to humanitarian service.

unclegeorge

My cousin David is currently preparing to leave and be a part of a crisis intervention organization, because his heart is broken for the increase of terror happening in the Middle East. And my cousin Katie is passionate about supporting families who are dealing with chronic illness.

I could continue to talk about many other family members like my Aunt Bonnie, who’s always supported me in my endeavors, whether it was coming to a softball game when I was 9, or financially supporting all my trips overseas since I was 15.

This list is not even half my family, nor have I fully expounded upon all the ways they are truly the hands and feet of Jesus. I love the things they are doing. I’m so proud of them, and I want to share in what they’re passionate about. But can I? I mean how can I play a key role in each one of their stories and passions and maintain my own?

So here’s my larger point. It’s may be obvious, but it’s so crucial that I just need to say it, so that my own heart hears it. There’s truly something bigger than my little life going on. A universal story is  being played out. It spans all of time, and there is one hero, forever, and it’s Jesus. He gets the pedestal and he gets the throne. Because he’s the only one worthy of that title. The only guy who had everything, who legitly had the hero title, “but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant…and humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death on a cross” (Philippians 2:7-8).

Jesus glorious

And it’s a beautiful love story, because maybe surrendering the throne or hero title in your own life sounds ridiculous or hard (and infact it is); but Jesus is a hopeless romantic, and when we surrender our lives to him he invites us to be his valiant lover fighting at his side. So in other words I give up my own personal storyline, as the main character, to become a key role in a universal story that will last throughout eternity. This revelation makes everything I do a thousand times more significant.

Plus, my life suddenly becomes intertwined with those around me. My family’s passions are no longer individualized and separate from my own. Their lives are a part of my story, because my real story is God’s story. They each play key roles, that are absolutely needed in this grand narrative. And this gives me a restful spirit, because I don’t have the conquer the world on my own. I don’t have to prove myself through mountaintop experiences. And when my adventurous life quiets for a moment I don’t have to rush off to a foreign country, because in the steadiness of life I can better invest in the lives of those around me.

Missouri-Mountain-Summit

So maybe I’m not currently experiencing a “climax,” but in a month two of my best friends are getting married and I get to be a part of it. I get to share in the joy of two amazing people choosing to lay down their individual lives for a lifelong journey together. I’m not currently experiencing the joys (and terrors :)) of motherhood, but I get to be an aunt to my favorite kids in the world.

One final thought narrow-path-sun-rays-a

It’s interesting that the basics of Christianity are lay down your life, take up your cross, and follow Jesus. Yet so often I find myself and many others in a state of restlessness over finding or living our “callings.” My calling each day is very simple, lay down my own selfish ambition and do what Jesus does. Ah yes, that is the narrow path.

Thoughts and Emotions

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It’s interesting how thoughts and emotions collide and combat.

Thoughts knows she has all the right answers. She holds in her hands the sword of absolute truth. She believes she is invincible. She holds her head high, full of assurance. She need not even bed down to look at her opponent. For who can take her throne?

But though she looks strong in exterior, can she actually stand against the tidal wave of emotions?

For emotion comes by the sea. She comes with strength in her waves and she pounds against all walls meant to keep her at bay.

Again and again she attacks thoughts’ defenses.

A crack is found.

And with one final blow she pours into and out of the city.

Thoughts doesn’t relinquish all power, but with broken down defenses, she has no choice but to let emotions finish her damage before she begins to rebuild.

The strength of both forces lies within reality.

Both are real.

They carry weight.

If one were to deny the strength of the other, she would surely be brought to destruction.

The truth is they need each other.

They may seem like enemies, but actually they can be the best of friends. They can enhance and multiply the work of the other or they can destroy it with a few quick blows.

Neither is perfect.

Both need training.

Both need renewing by the Spirit.

He is their tutor, their coach. At times He focuses His training on the individual, but ultimately His work is to unite them in one powerful force. That together they would be like Himself. Bringing life where there was only violence and death.

Emotions, you are powerful. You come at surprising times bringing waters of life and healing.

Thoughts, your leadership is needed. Your structures are built with intelligence and skills that are necessary for growth and maturing.

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Inspired by real lives

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Recently I was listening to an audiobook during my daily drives on the back roads of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. It was one of those books that Christians often read and discuss in small group settings. One of those books where the author is trying to make particular points on a theological topic or Christian worldview, and usually tends to point out how far away we are from actually living those ideas.

If you’re hearing a slight patronizing tone in what I’m saying it’s because it’s there. But the reason for it is because the hypocrisy that tends to bother you the most is usually the things inside of you. I’m fairly critical of teachers, preachers, and book writers because I enjoy doing all the above. Words, understanding, and profound revelation are like doorways into my inner woman. And without even knowing it the fingers of criticism I tend to point at others are really fingers pointing back at my own insecurities.

I crave understanding. I am forever wanting to understand what is happening in this story of humanity, and most especially in my own little life. But then I begin reading the Bible (my supposed source for this understanding), and Paul hits me with things like, “For since in the wisdom of God the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe. For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men” (1 Corinthians 1:21-25). And in the same letter Paul states the gospel isn’t a matter of eloquent words of wisdom, it’s the power of the cross of Jesus. For a woman who loves words, especially eloquent words, this wakes me up. I would love to dive deeper into the verses above, but that’s not exactly the direction I want to head today.

I actually really respect the author of the book I was listening to, Francis Chan is his name. I respect him because he strives to live his words. But while listening to his book I noticed something, my favorite parts of the book were the endings of each chapter when Chan would describe a person or couple he knew, that lived lives surrendered to the Holy Spirit. It’s only been a few weeks since I listened to the book, and I can’t think of a single theological statement he made in the book (not that they didn’t impact me at the time). But the stories of current day people loving their God and loving people still come alive in my memory.

The part of humans where we compare and contrast ourselves with other individuals is often painted in a negative light. But I think this same part of humans is what allows us to be inspired by other people, which I see as a really beautiful thing. It’s beautiful because it’s a life inspiring another life, not through words but through the actual living out of their lives.

I believe God made us this way on purpose, and it’s why so much of the Bible is stories of the lives of real people. Their actual lives put substance into the truths about God that their stories show. And the life of Jesus proves to me that this is how God designed us. God could have written a book, describing the attributes of himself, his kingdom and his expectations for us. But Jesus is God’s word that put on human flesh and lived a life that fully embodied the truths of God, because He is God. He is the highest level of human aspiration.

This understanding began to really stir in me about two weeks ago while I was sitting outside on the back porch of my grandparents house and I began thinking about my grandma (seen below). I don’t remember how I stumbled on it, but suddenly I realized she embodies selflessness. I began going through a bunch of scenarios in my head and couldn’t think of one where I thought my grandma wouldn’t give of whatever she had for the sake of another person, especially her family. I compared those scenarios with how I might act in the given situation and knew I didn’t come anywhere close. This realization not only humbled me, but gave me new eyes to see my grandma and the life she lived. By most standards she’s lived a normal middle class American life. But considering her life made me realize that selflessness doesn’t always look like giving away all your possessions and moving to a developing nation, selflessness is a lifestyle. It’s a life lived with open hands to freely give what you’ve freely received. My grandma’s life inspires me. She’s not someone that I usually tend to have deep theological discussions with, but her life highlights to me a virtue I want to see more in my own life.

Grandma

I don’t think I’m ever going to not love words and metaphors and deep understanding, and I think that’s ok. But I don’t want to hide behind them either. Jesus wrote to the church in Sardis in Revelation 3, “You have a reputation for being alive, but you’re dead. Wake up, and strengthen the things that remain.” Those words penetrate my heart, as a constant reminder to wake up and actually live my life. Because faith without action is dead. And words, without a person who is actually living them, mean nothing.

Art

Written for my dear friend Elisa, a women with a heart for authentic relationship and people telling their stories. She was the key person in helping me “come out” as a writer, about a year ago. I see now that poetry and free writing has always been inside of me, but it was a hidden treasure, mostly just used for internal communication between myself and God. It’s been a fun journey over the past year getting to share my poetry with friends and in larger settings, because relating to people in deep ways and exposing truth is so much of who I am.

This poem really is meant to be spoken, not read. So hopefully one day that will happen. In the meantime, here’s a small piece of my story with art and poetry writing.

View More: http://blackstone-photography.pass.us/brittany

I used to think art was for everyone…
Artsy
You know the guys who drink tea
The girls who like brie
The kids who watch Glee
The adults who live “free”
The people who actually like “The Old Man and The Sea”
But art, it wasn’t for me

Art was the kid who colored inside the lines when I was 4
She was the girl I sang a duet with when I was 8 and got all the compliments after the show
Art was the only class I didn’t do my homework in when I was 10
When I was 12 she was my best friend who wrote angry poems after class
At 14, Art was the boy who got out of class to practice choir
Art was the garage band my friends played in when I was 16
At 18 Art was my escapist dream amidst nursing school reality
At 20 she was the skinny jean, skinny me, hipster look I could never fully conquer

Then at 22 Art walked into my life as woman I could relate to at a point of loneliness and confusion
Her listening ears and open heart built trust and safety
And slowly she began to extend her hand, beckoning me into her world
The love in her voice couldn’t be resisted
So I followed her leading
Entering into to this world that had never been “me”

But something inside began to agree
And connect
Emotion came that I didn’t expect
And I began to reflect on both the intersect and disconnect
Realizing there had been both neglect and reject
So instead of fleeing I began being
Allowing the emotions I’d blocked off to begin breathing
It felting like seeing, for the first time
As I began to climb both into and outside my heart and mind
And the words just began to flow out in rhyme
And I began to find this captivating truth inside
Art was for me, more than that He was in me
He wasn’t for the elite and talented
I found out He’s unendingly multifaceted

See art is the external expression of all internal questions and confessions
She’s a thread in humanity that is meant to weave us together into a masterpiece of truth and beauty from ashes
Helping us to see through different glasses
With a theme of unity that surpasses our clashes
You don’t have to take classes
Just begin to open those boxes inside that you’ve kept closed
Those experiences you’ve said it’s better if nobody knows
Then I won’t be exposed and none can oppose

But let me propose a new idea through this prose
That little girl that dances inside needs to feel the sun
That young man with internal rhythm and rap needs to begin to run
Your art doesn’t need to be words and doesn’t need to be spoken
It’s just those inward realities that need to be awoken
And I’m hear to say you have been chosen
Arise and shine and take my hand
Let’s cross over into that new land
I can see the inner artist across all your faces
He’s trying to squeeze through even of the smallest open spaces
Embrace him
And let Art be the key to letting your inner man and women be what she’s always yearned to be
Free

Cafe Moment

Cafes are one of my favorite places in the world. Take me to any city or small town and I will be happy to spend most of the day in the local cafe. Cafes both calm and inspire me. Maybe I’ll write about my love for cafes in more detail one day, but for now I’m just going to share a short free write/poem I wrote while visiting Tomato Pie Cafe in Lititz one afternoon.

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My eyes glance up for a moment of reprieve from my internal discourse

Sitting, surrounded by the familiar, in what’s come to be know as “The Coolest Small Town in America”

My attention is called to the center of the cafe

I’m watching the interaction of father and daughter

He is standing, cradling his daughter, focused

Communicating with his eyes that his affection is solely for her in this moment

Mother is chatting with the waitress at the register

Connections being made, smiles come easily

Kisses abound as he sits back down, his eyes never moving from her face

Mother finishes paying and comes back into the safety of her home

Her arms embrace both daughter and lover

Her heart spilling over as she looks at her most precious ones

The beauty of her face as she looks deeply at the man that she loves is overwhelming

The love he is expressing multiplies the love she feels for him

There is purity here

Nothing to corrupt this love

No ideals of perfection to mar this present

As they embrace each other

Truth is looked at in the eye

Communication is deep, without words, because words are weak

The love portrayed is refreshing as if it was newly grown

But the richness of the picture shows me this love was fought for, it was formed in dark places

A cloud surrounds this picture as they walk out the door

All are aware

But no ones knows

Assumptions can be made

But who really knows

City

Last year my friend told me to write a poem about the city. I never finished it. I don’t think it will ever have a true ending, because the city is full of lessons to be learned and more importantly people with stories to be told. “The city” is really any city, though it was written with Lancaster City in mind.

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There’s something about you that causes me to think that I can be somebody

Somebody going somewhere

Much like that man over there

He’s dressed in his black, made-to-measure suit

Walking the last block of his daily commute

Looking astute, with no question of his pursuit

His fitted look draws my eyes to each angle of his frame

I wonder from where he came and what is his name

A girlish story rapidly circles my brain

No thought is complete

Just sweet and meek, with nothing concrete

But it’s now obsolete

 

As I walk through the doors I breathe in the aroma of your being

The warm fragrance of espresso is calming and freeing

The freedom you provide gives me a break from life’s demands

Somehow I’m empowered with latte in hand

Sitting down for a moment to sip in the liquid solace

My eye is caught by a figure almost flawless

Her tattooed arm has caught my attention

Now caught in the tension, looking deep into her complexion

Wanting to stare and compare

But I know that isn’t fair

I just want to declare

“I like you. I like your tattoos. I’m not judging you. I just like you.”

But that’s not completely true

As she picks up her brew I begin to consider her world view

I try to fight the typical questions from first impressions

Are you truly an artist or musician?

What’s caused your break with tradition?

Was this your ambition?

Have your dreams come to fruition?

 

My inner questions interrupted as he side steps through the door and my view is blocked

His beard a bit mangled and his head a bit cocked

He’s known

Known but alone, surrounded by everything he owns

The barista calls out a hello followed by a first name

He looks around quickly then does the same

His presence makes me feel the ignorance of my youth

With no tools to relate how can I bring truth

This part of you scares me in my smallness

Here I can’t impress and excess only bring regress

 

Back on your uneven pavement I’m headed in a particular direction

You still have my affection made better by imperfection

Your faded streets signs and aged architecture are somehow refreshing

History’s seasoned maturity is confessing and expressing

While young artist flavoring is progressing and coalescing

Rushed smiles and nods are the dialect of the day

I find a familiar face and follow my nod with a “hey”

 

As I round the corner your landscape makes a quick shift

It’s then I begin to wonder how your two parts coexist

My eyes find the frame of a boy about six

He’s playing with his firetruck while eating some chips

Your sidewalk is his playground, he knows nothing different

His imagination soaring what you offer is sufficient

His name is called and he pretends to ignore

But that doesn’t last long when she swings open the door

A woman of strength, with streaks of grey hairs stands waiting for compliance

The boy’s pace hasten at her presence, there’s no room for defiance

 

A loud boom of latino music vibrates through my body’s members

But the sound fades into the distance like smoldering embers

Your diversity reminds me to widen the eyes of my mind

To make this world one color you’d have to be blind

Your design is complex and I’ve just scratched the surface

Maybe that’s your intent

Maybe that’s your main purpose

Easy answers are short lived and quickly outgrown

You provide an open space for my thoughts and questions to roam

 

There’s something about you that makes me think I can be somebody

That I am somebody

Somebody going somewhere

With a story in session

Deeper than first impression

Likely beyond my own comprehension

Freedom Calls

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Freedom calls
Her voice echoes through the nations
Awakening a generation from slumber and sedation
We have been asleep for far too long
Our silence allowing wickedness to grow strong
Blinded by blended lines of right and wrong
Freedom calls
Rippling like sound waves through time and space
History can’t be erased and it’s daily being retraced
Slavery isn’t over
She’s merely gotten a makeover
Meant to keep her hidden with minimal exposure
Freedom calls
Leaving messages on awareness t-shirts and missing child posters at bus stops
Though these actions are needed, isn’t it time we think outside the box?
Maybe we can’t turn back this blackened clock
But we can ALL be a part of making it STOP
Freedom calls
She’s asking for you
Maybe you don’t know what to do
But your voice is needed and your actions too
It’s time to take your stand and proclaim what is truth
The days are over for duplicity and passivity
You need to pursue truth and justice actively
Freedom calls
I have dream
“That one day a woman won’t be judged by the curves of her hips, and the color of her hair, but the content of her heart”
Freedom calls
She’s not quitting
Though defeat looks presumable and the task insurmountable
Evil will not reign, he must be held accountable
Justice commissioners must do more than mere trading of prisoners
We need truth, righteousness, and love distributors
Freedom calls
This war isn’t happening on battlefields in distant nations
It’s invasions, locations, and implications are without limitation
And it’s time to open up that box of reality and depravity
This war’s casualties begin in our families
Freedom calls
She sounds like your sister, friend, mother and daughters
She needs more than popular trends, ideas, and smooth talkers
She needs intervention, and intention through prevention
She needs abuse detection
She needs literal protection and real affection
But most of all
What she needs is sacrificial love and eternal redemption

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“Love looks like something”

Mother Teresa quote

Experiences in life are 4D. They aren’t linear, and there always seems to be four or five different themes going on at the same time. So when people ask me about Brazil, I either give them a few standard lines that I’ve said before, or if I can see they are looking for a more detailed response I usually ask them for a moment and then try and rack my brain for some sort of theme or experience I think might appeal to the person asking me.

For this post, I’m going to speak to one of the most powerful and practical “themes” of my time in Brazil. The title of this post is actually a Heidi Baker quote, “Love looks like something, yet it has no limits.” I can’t remember when I first heard this quote, but it’s the essence of a deep and confoundingly simple revelation I received while at the Iris Global school in Brazil.

I’m sure you probably can already guess where I’m headed with this, but let me ask a needed question. What’s the purpose of missionary work?

To feed the poor? Provide clean drinking water? Set-up a health clinic for a week? Maybe microfinance a small business?

OR maybe the more religious sounding answers, like preaching the gospel. Saving lost souls. And my heroic-sounding favorite, “advancing the kingdom of God.”

These are all awesome things, but maybe just slightly missing the real bull’s eye. I believe the purpose of missions is for people to have love encounters.

I know this sounds like blissfully simplified theology and/or fashionably hipster. But when you get it, like I got in Brazil, it’s compelling, supernatural, and deeply satisfying. Let me share a glimpse of how God revealed this truth to me.

There’s a place in Rio de Janeiro our school visited called Gramacho. Literally it’s a dump. A large landfill where garbage was dumped every day for 34 years until it closed in 2012. Thousands of people live in this place. Children grow-up here, and their parents make their living from the items they retrieve from the garbage. It’s an unimaginable life, for almost any American, and even most Brazilians. It’s a truly devastating situation.

Here’s the part that really got me though, at Gramacho people get “saved” frequently. Sometimes it’s even weekly. Christians come in, hand out some food, and the people “accept Jesus.” But their lives aren’t changed. They still live in the dump and their daily lifestyle isn’t any different than before.

Steph Gramacho

But some amazing heroes of mine are beginning to change that story. They are Brazilian Iris missionaries, who know Jesus, and know that He desires, more than anyone, to see this situation changed. They have built real relationships with the people living in Gramacho. They listen to their stories, they laugh together, pray together, eat together. And often they help meet physical needs as well, like caring for their wounds, giving them food, and taking them places. But their focus isn’t on what they are “doing” for the people of Gramacho. Their focus is truly loving them. And because of their genuine love, people are having supernatural encounters with the living God.

There are many stories of inspiring individuals I could tell you about, like Adriana (seen below) who encountered God supernaturally one day when Stephanie (an Iris missionary, who’s given up her career as a Brazilian model to serve and love these people full-time – shown in picture above) was simply talking and laughing with her. Adriana is now a powerful woman of prayer, she takes care of her seven children and her disabled mother, she runs a small store, she’s a preacher, and God has told her that she will not always be living in the dump. She has become like a spiritual mother to Stephanie and their bond of love for each other is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

Adriana

Adriana

What’s also exciting is that God is providing ways for the people to literally get out of the dump. Land has been purchased, where houses will be built and Iris missionaries and many of the people from Gramacho will live together in these homes.

It’s hard for me to translate my experience in Gramacho through words alone. Because what’s going on there, the interactions between the Iris missionaries and the residents of Gramacho is something so special. It’s so real, that words alone can’t do it justice. It’s real love that’s happening, and it’s changing everything.

1 Corinthians 13 is probably one of the most famous chapters in the Bible. Paul goes through a list of really awesome things; like giving away all you have, and having faith to move mountains, and understanding all mysteries. And then he says, “but if I have not love, I gain nothing.” Why? Because love is the essence of God. Love is who He is, and it’s what He’s given us.

But what really is love? I don’t think I can sum it up much better than John did.

1 John 4:7-12 “Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him.  This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.”

I used to think love was too simple and weak to really be the gospel. But then I’m reminded that God chooses the foolish and weak things of the world to shame the wise (1 Corinthians 1:27). I’m reminded that Jesus said that the whole Bible (which was the law and prophets back then) are summed up in two commandments, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind. And love your neighbor as yourself” (Matt 22:36-40).

See people are hungry, poor, sick, and living in hopeless situations. But giving them everything they need to become a person of middle class wealth and health will not solve deeper issues. Neither will throwing a few Bible verses at them and saying a quick prayer. People need love, real love. And real love comes from one man, Jesus. Because there is no one else that loves like He does. He loved us and gave His life for us, while we were still His enemies. Love isn’t good feelings and goosebumps. Love is self sacrifice. And we who carry within us Jesus’ Spirit, must walk in that love. Ephesians 5:1-2 “Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”

(I listened to this 4-track Misty Edwards & David Brymer CD nonstop in Brazil. The songs are like the soundtrack to my time in Brazil. This song really sums up this post.)

Everyday God loves me, He loves me with all of Himself. And everyday He asks me to do the same. He asks me to love Him by loving His children. In John 21, Jesus asks Peter three times if he loved Him. Every time Peter said, “yes Lord, you know that I love you.” And every time Jesus responded then “feed my sheep.”

I don’t live out this revelation of His love. But I want to, more and more each day. Loving the one in front of me. Loving not in word or talk, but in deed and truth (1 John 3:18). This could look like smiling at the cashier at the grocery store, it could look like holding someone close and just listening, it could look like sharing material possessions, or giving that stranger a ride to the bus stop. It could look like verbally sharing truth through the word of God, or moving into the bad part of town to build relationships with single moms and people addicted to drugs. “Love looks like something, but it has no limits.” This revelation on love truly is so simple, that I almost feel silly that I never really “got it” before Brazil and Iris ministries. But I feel like He’s now given me “eyes to see” and with these new eyes He’s giving me the opportunity to love Him more, by loving His precious children. Not loving them with my own affection that is inclined to take and not give, but with His perfect, sacrificial, and steadfast love.

(A small taste of Iris Ministries)

The Secret of Being Content

Come close
Draw near
Stretch out your ear
And pull these words into that sincere resting place
That space beyond the frontal veneer
Where spiritual truths are all made clear
Where deep calls unto deep
His Spirit dwelling, who never sleeps
Into this sacred space I speak
Because words alone are futile and weak
We must lift up eyes to seek
The things that are above
Realities only experienced in love
See I have learned the secret of being content
Leaving the striving of discontent
The torment of trying to prevent or circumvent the realities of the present
So much of our current lives are spent in lament
Always looking for a person to house our vent
We dream of futures where daily struggle has ceased
With endless happiness unleashed
Fear and agony deceased
But I have learned the secret to being content
And it lies in the extent I relent from creating my own life
Strife is a promised reality
As common as gravity
Meant to reveal life’s vanity and humanity’s depravity
But I have learned the secret of being content
The peaceful assurance I’m called to represent
And it dwells within the space I’m speaking into
Where you begin to be renewed through all that is true
It’s hope
Assurance of things yet unseen
Causing me to lean into my new identity
Heavily pursuing this new reality
Which is Christ in me the hope of glory
He is the secret to being content
For him, to him, because of him my life is spent
For if I am brought low or abound in all good things
If my name is made great among all the world’s kings
If my family turns against me and my stomach found empty
If all my plans succeed and I live in plenty
If the mediocrity of life begins to gnaw at my dreams
Or I find myself living in all the extremes
Still my hope in him remains the same
His lovingkindness not due to change
His redemptive blood coursing through my veins
For by this blood, alive I became
So in all things, I have learned the secret to being content
He is my strength, much stronger than any cement
He knows all my weakness
He knows all my need
He will sustain this life he now leads
My treasure and pleasure is no longer attached to natural and material
For that life is brief and will soon makes its burial
But who I really am is eternal
I am more than merely mortal
Thus, my desire for words beyond verbal and external
Contentment is found in his rest given to us
Our inheritance received through the man Christ Jesus
For all abundance and lack found here on this earth
Can never be compared to his glory and his worth
In him is our life, our strength, our treasure, our trust
He is the secret
He is Jesus

Philippians 4:11-13