SheLoves Magazine

Little Pockets of Love

So many of us have been at the Justice Conference in Portland these past few days. While we are still digesting + thinking through what we learned, this post by Kathy Escobar speaks to the Love and community we know is crucial to seeing Justice flow on the earth. -idelette xo
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Celebrating those places where the beauty, strength and goodness that is within each person has a chance to come out.

By Kathy Escobar | Twitter: @kathyescobar

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“What the world needs now is love, sweet love.  It’s the only thing that there’s just too little of…”

 - Paul Anka

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This song might sound corny 30 years after it was originally recorded, but it’s true.

Love is compelling.

Love is transforming.

Love is possible.

Love is hard.

Love is what the world needs.

Jesus embodied love. His message, his ministry, his death, his resurrection all point toward challenging his followers to emulate love. I always say the world does not need more division, death, or “knowledge.” It needs more love.

And we can be active participants in creating it. Not later, not once we gain more skills or training, not once our kids are out of the house, not once we get that next promotion, not once we have more time, not once we are less afraid.

I think we are called to participate in cultivating the Kingdom of God in the here and now by nurturing what I call “little pockets of love.”

To me, Christians are called to create a space of love for one another in a wide variety of contexts.  Eye-to-eye, face-to-face, heart-to-heart and life-to-life. People knit together on the journey, somehow committed to living, growing, learning, eating, trying and loving together.

My working definition of church is:  “People gathered together in some way, shape, or form to learn and practice the ways of Jesus and pass on love, hope, mercy, justice, and healing in a broken, weird world.”  

I love that there are many different expressions of “church” and deeply hope we can all play our part in small and big ways to reclaim this beautiful word that has been stripped of its original meaning and come to mean sitting in a room listening to someone talk and singing some songs.

I believe people are the church and we can live out our faith in diverse ways. It supersedes language and isn’t limited by our definitions nor by the type of gathering, experience, or context.  When I am with another person cultivating little pockets of love, it is “church.”

Throughout the years I have been transformed through little pockets of love. Very little happened for me in big venues or places where everyone was just like me or where I could easily hide. The places where people called out what was deep within me, stuck with me even when I wanted to run away, pointed me toward God’s real heart for me, and challenged me to pass it on—-those are the places where I seemed to learn the most.

There are many different expressions of pockets of love beyond the ones I’ve been part of at my little faith community, The Refuge, or in other small, intimate and challenging groups.  They are in houses, pubs, the streets, AA meetings, homeless shelters, prisons, schools, traditional churches, workplaces, social clubs, neighborhood gatherings, and a score of other places around the world.

Pockets of love are places where the gospel can be lived out through hearts in action, where Christ’s light can shine into the darkest of places, truth can be spoken, hope can be borrowed, and food can be shared.

Self-hatred, self-doubt, insecurity, depression, disconnectedness and loneliness plague so many, yet we often haven’t created spaces that help shift these damaging patterns. At the heart of God’s mission is the restoration of people. But unless we actually create a space where people can emerge from their wounds, doubts, fears and failures, it is doubtful they will ever discover that love.

If we look at the life of Jesus, it’s hard to imagine the church would be anything other than a diverse scattering of little pockets of love—places where the beauty, strength, and goodness that is within each person has a chance to come out. Where God and man somehow intersect in mysterious, supernatural ways. Where Jesus-in-the-flesh is alive and well, calling out hope, forgiveness, purpose, passion and love.

Little pockets of love don’t happen magically.

It requires much intention, grace and endurance to nurture little pockets of love.

My guess that many of you reading are doing this in all kinds of beautiful ways–cultivating “with” relationships, gathering people together in different creative ways and creating containers for love.  You may not even realize it. You may minimize what you are doing, thinking it’s not organized enough, successful enough, big enough or good enough.

Don’t minimize it. A little love goes a long way. Little pockets of love–safe spaces for people to feel and experience the love of God– are transforming because Jesus is being reflected there through people.

God, help us bravely cultivate little pockets of love in all kinds of shapes and sizes.

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We’d love to hear your thoughts:

• Where have you recently experienced a “little pocket of love?”

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About Kathy:

Kathy Escobar co-pastors The Refuge, an eclectic faith community in North Denver dedicated to those on the margins of life and faith. She blogs regularly about life and faith at www.kathyescobar.com and just released a new book called, Down We Go–Living out the Wild Ways of Jesus in Action. She lives in Arvada, Colorado with her husband, Jose, and five kids.

Image credit: Compassion International, by Kevin Rohr

ShePonders: Prophets

By Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha

“Prophet” is such a strong, heavy and unequivocal word in my vocabulary. But it did not begin that way.

My initial encounter with the word “prophet” was in my post-college days when I attended a Vineyard Church. People spoke of prophets as easily as they mentioned the pastor or the greeters or the janitor. Prophets were often contrasted with those gifted in mercy, implying and sometimes even saying outright that while mercy people were gentle, sensitive and touchy-feely, prophets were none of these things. A prophet saw things–about you and sometimes your future. They spoke words of personal comfort (at least the New Testament instructed them to do so); they spoke of predictions regarding the church, community and even country. They had a reputation for being brash and having sharp edges. More than once I heard it said that prophets saw in black and white.

During years steeped in this culture, I had my own personal encounters with prophets. I received many words of knowledge. These prophets claimed to know things about me or offered a God-given directive for me to follow and even spoke of grand future exploits. Some words were formative, others fell flat. Such was the way with modern prophets I surmised–even they were practicing their gift imperfectly, learning as they went.

When I entered seminary I had to engage prophets once again … but this time the robust personalities of the Old Testament. These crazed men (mostly) spoke in poetic cadence and dreamed dreams, saw visions, often acting in strange ways. They were of a different breed entirely from the prophets I knew. At first glance I wrote them off as being archaic, as outdated as the Old Testament itself. But they stayed with me and began to burrow into my psyche, those poetic verses and haunting metaphors provoking me to come closer and listen. (I must pay tribute to Biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann for offering me a proper introduction to these wild and wonderful prophets.)

And here is what I have learned about prophets–they don’t see in black and white, they see in technicolor.  Now I find it interesting that the “tech” in Technicolor was inspired by the founder’s technical training at MIT. The name of his revolutionary color process and company are an homage to inspired instruction and his own innovation in color saturation. The prophets of old are similar in this respect; they honor their inspired instruction (which comes from the Torah) and marry that with their unique innovative vision. The prophets understood deeply the words of Genesis, Exodus, Deuteronomy, Leviticus and Numbers–and that shaped what they saw and what they spoke.

Allow me to share some simple observations from years of studying these great prophets:

A prophet sees.

- A prophet can see Torah. She sees the words of God and has studied the ways of Jesus. Because these words and ways are written on her heart, she sees through them into her world.

- A prophet can see the world around her truly. She sees with clarity the good, the bad and the ugly. She sees that the dominant story of the world misleads people into elitism, racism, poverty, violence and consumerism.

- A prophet can see the margins. She sees who is there, how they got there and what keeps them on the sidelines of society.  She notices the human rights denied. She sees the invisible–who is missing from the classrooms, the hospital rooms, the voter rolls and the pews.

- A prophet can see injustice. She sees the injust structures that keep people out; the policies meant to exclude. She sees unfair trade agreements, environmental exploitation and corrupted banking systems. She sees crooked leaders and crooked laws.

- A prophet sees an alternative.  She sees another way to be in this world – a way rooted in Torah, love and justice.  She sees God’s abundance, not scarcity.  She sees humanity in her enemy and knows that forgiveness must be on offer.  She sees conflict and dreams of reconciliation, swords into plows (or tanks into tractors).

- A prophet sees newness. She sees that God is doing a new thing. God is on the move with fresh ideas and a fount of creative energy. She knows the world may be in a rut of poor choices–but God is not stuck! He is free and leading us into new freedom all the time, she has seen it!

- A prophet sees potential. She understands that the way the world is now is not set in stone. She sees potential for age-old wrongs to be set right in our day, for the brutally broken to know gentle mending, for systems of oppression to give way to unprecedented liberation, for truth to trump the lies we believe about ourselves and others.

- A prophet sees the connections. She sees the connection between her personal issues, the ones that hit closest to home, and the public practices. So her difficult pregnancy allows her to see the infant and maternal mortality rates in other countries. Her white skin and accompanying privilege help her see those in townships without access to something as simple as books. Losing her home makes her see the underside of the economic system that benefits some and exploits others. She sees the connections beyond herself, out into the larger world that God has called her to address.

- A prophet sees the colors. She sees the dark and dim for what it is. She also sees the bright and bursting hues–and all the shades in between. Seeing color means seeing life in its full spectrum.

A prophet speaks.

A prophet speaks the truth about the world as she finds it, looking through Torah-colored glasses. She speaks truth not just to power; she speaks truth to the status quo. She says that this is not the only way life can be! This is not the only way to manage your family! This is not the only way to run the world! Children don’t have to die of malaria–girls don’t have to miss out on education. Ecosystems don’t have to be trashed!

She looks at the world as it is and says it can be otherwise.

A prophet speaks about an alternative way. She tells us that there is another kingdom where justice reigns.  She says there is a better option than Caesar. She dares to say that violence is not the only way to bring peace. She tells another story and narrates a new world of possibility into existence guided by the Spirit.

A prophet speaks … wherever God leads her. She offers her voice to tell His story, she offers her voice to advocate for others (because she sees them) and proclaim good news. She speaks and allows her voice to become His–and that is what the prophets of old did when they spoke to their community. The prophets had eyes that saw, ears that heard and voices that spoke His truth into their world.

May it be so for us … women who can see, hear and speak into His world in full color and full voice!

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My dear SheLoves sisters,

• What has been your experience with the word “prophet?”
• What stirs in you and speaks to you now?
• Any other comments or thoughts? I’d love to hear.

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Audio:  ShePonders: Prophets

Click on the link above for an audio experience of Kelley’s post.

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About Kelley:

Kelley Johnson Nikondeha is co-director of Amahoro Africa and international staff member of Community of Faith with her husband Claude. She’s a thinker, connector, advocate, avid reader and mother of two beautiful children. Kelley lives between Arizona and Burundi. She loves handwritten letters, homemade pesto and anything written by Walter Brueggemann.

The Importance of Moulding My Putty

“When God gave me this gift, he didn’t give it to me in its biggest and brightest form. He gave it to me as a lump of putty with the expectation that I would mould it. How else could it become unique to me?”

By Claire De Boer | Twitter: @Britchic19

“Hide not your talents. They for use were made. What’s a sundial in the shade?” ~ Benjamin Franklin.

God gave me a gift. I have a passion for creating stories and bringing them alive on the page. As a child, I didn’t know I had a gift; I simply knew I loved to make up stories. God was an abstract image with wires coming out of his body so I didn’t make a connection between Him and my writing. I just knew I loved to be alone with my words.

Expressing myself on the page as an introverted child was my way of coming alive and showing someone out there I really did have important things to say. It was my way of telling the world, I’m not invisible. I created characters with the strength to speak out, with the wings I didn’t posses.

As life progressed, my need to breathe through the page grew and my journals became my refuge. Writing became a way of creating the world I wanted to live, so I wouldn’t have to inhabit the lonely world I did live in.

Then somewhere along the way I lost my voice. I’m not sure how it happened; one day I was a young girl who loved to write mini-novels, the next I was a teenager obsessed with being thin, dealing with my parents’ divorce and buried under a pile of college text books. I lost sight of myself and questioned whether writing was for me. I think questioning my ability was my way of making myself feel better about giving up the one thing that brought me joy.

I didn’t write for nearly twenty years. The desire to pour out my heart on the page was rooted in me so firmly that I became afraid of it. The more time went by, the more afraid and mad at myself I became. So strong was my passion that I let it grow bigger than me, believing I could never deal with failure if I shared my voice with the world and they were to turn their backs. What then? What if I were to reveal myself through my work, allow people to see the real me, only to be told it was no good? What would be left of me then?

I decided keeping my gift to myself would be better than living with myself as a failure. To have a hidden talent was to my mind far better than having no talent.

I still have that fear of failure every day. But two years ago, I found the courage to start writing again. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this happened just after I became a Christian. God shone a light on that place that needed to be re-birthed; the part of me that revealed who I am. I literally haven’t stopped writing since. And He has taught me several important lessons over the last two years:

-             I may fail

-             Some people aren’t going to like my voice.

-             I will experience rejection.

-             That’s okay.

When God gave me this gift, he didn’t give it to me in its biggest and brightest form. He gave it to me as a lump of putty with the expectation that I would mould it. How else could it become unique to me? And because it is my gift from God, I know it can be bigger and more beautiful than I have ever imagined.

It is in the journey of moulding my putty that I am discovering what my voice needs to say, how it needs to say it and why it even needs saying it all. In moulding my putty, I am discovering my place as a woman and how God wants me to share my gift with others.

Perhaps the most important question I need to ask myself along my journey is this: What is failure and what is success? Is success seeing my novel in the front window of Chapters? Or is success discovering my life’s purpose and helping others grow through breathing the page?

For now I know this: There are many writers in this world. But only one writer has my voice.

 “When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, “I used everything you gave me.” ~ Erma Bombeck.

About Claire:

Born and raised in the UK, Claire De Boer is a writer, woman of God, mother and wife. She is currently working on her first women’s fiction novel and a collection of short stories. Claire is also a student of The Writer’s Studio at Simon Fraser University.

Photo credit: andymangold

Down We Go: Leaving the Ninety-nine for the One

“Love doesn’t always come to us; often we have to go to it.”

By Kathy Escobar | Twitter: @kathyescobar

Most of us reading SheLoves are reading for a reason. We want to be part of changing the world, a part of infusing God’s hope, mercy, justice and love into people and places in desperate need of it. We want practice, not theology. We want to break down the walls between “us and them” and engage in “with” relationships instead of “to” and “for” ones and create little pockets of love.

There are practices that help embody this kind of downward living.  I talk about eight of these practices in Down We Go: Living into the Wild Ways of Jesus. They aren’t an inclusive list, but rather a good place to start. These eight practices are: extending love, mercy and compassion; welcoming pain; honoring doubt; diffusing power; practicing equality; pursuing justice; cultivating creativity; and celebrating freedom. Over the upcoming months we’ll look at each of these in a deeper way.

The first one is centered on extending love, mercy and compassion.

The key word in here is extending.

Love doesn’t always come to us; often we have to go to it.

It reminds me of the Parable of the Lost Sheep in Matthew 18:12-14:

“If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them wanders away, what will he do? Won’t he leave the ninety-nine others on the hills and go out to search for the one that is lost? And if he finds it, I tell you the truth, he will rejoice over it more than over the ninety-nine that didn’t wander away!  In the same way it is not my heavenly Father’s will that even one of these little ones should perish.”

Community

It’s easy to read the Bible for personal application and completely miss the community application. We must consider both. My friend and co-pastor at The Refuge, Karl, always reminds me that Paul’s letters in the Bible weren’t written to individuals but were written to bodies of people, to the church as a whole. When we read the Bible from a “we” perspective instead of an “only for me” perspective, things shift. Actually, they get much harder. Personal holiness doesn’t require the connection and sacrifice that real community does. I don’t know exactly what direction Jesus was going with this parable, but I wonder if maybe he was talking about the hundred sheep being the whole community of believers, or the church.

There is a strong allure to tend to the “Church of the Ninety-nine,″ the ones who already fill the pews or are connected to our ministries and work. They’re already “in.” This group tends to be louder and stronger.

Jesus, in this parable, tells of the shepherd who is willing to leave the Ninety-nine to find the One (to me, the One is the outcast, marginalized, oppressed, doubtful misfit, forgotten or neglected who somehow doesn’t cut it with the Ninety-nine).

That One is worth it.

That One is his.

That One is valuable enough to drop everything and go find …

The Ninety-nine are the ones who pay the bills for many churches and ministries and help make things go. They are the ones whose voices are loudest, who have the most power and the most influence. It leaves many shepherds saying, “If we can just keep the Ninety-nine happy, maybe we can somehow figure out how to help the One.” I understand the dilemma. The church of the Ninety-nine is powerful; its culture is deeply embedded into our models, practices and almost everything related to contemporary church.

I can’t count the number of times over the years that ministry leaders have told me that I need to stop focusing on the “hurting people” so much. It makes me laugh when I think of it, but the truth is it’s not that funny, especially in light of where Jesus spent his time. The work the ministry leaders wanted me to do was build structures and programs that the Ninety-nine wanted, to perpetuate safety, comfort, and predictability that kept everyone inside safe and happy.

The problem is the Ones are everywhere. They’re in our neighborhoods, schools, workplace, families and every single place we intersect with. Beautiful, valuable people who are radically ignored by “the church” for a wide variety of reasons.

Extending Love

Jesus is challenging us to leave the safe confines of the Ninety-nine and love the One. Over and over he did this. He stepped out of the religious establishment to offer hope and dignity in places where it had been lost.

I believe this is what he’s calling us to as well. To go. To extend love, mercy, and compassion in tangible ways. To get up out of the pews and leave what’s safe and comfortable to care for the One. The person on the fringes, the person in pain, the person who doesn’t feel loved or valued, the person in need of tangible help and support.

The Ones look different for each of us, but my hope is that we will bravely leave the Ninety-nine to find them. My hope is that we’ll bravely try, in whatever little or big ways we can to extend love, mercy, and compassion, instead of staying protected in our own little flock.

My hope is that we’ll consistently leave the Ninety-nine to find the One.

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My dear SheLoves sisters, I’d love to hear:

• What moves you today?
• How do you consider the One?

About Kathy:

Kathy Escobar co-pastors The Refuge, an eclectic faith community in North Denver dedicated to those on the margins of life and faith. She blogs regularly about life and faith at www.kathyescobar.com and recently released a book called, Down We Go–Living out the Wild Ways of Jesus in Action. She lives in Arvada, Colorado with her husband, Jose, and five kids.

Sweet Dreams

On resting in our Father’s love

By Angela Doell | Twitter: @adoell

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I love watching my children sleep. 

When they were small I’d sneak into their rooms at the end of a long day and claim their rest as my reward, their bodies at peace a healing atonement after endless hours of busy, messy and fussy.

Watching them simply breathe, brought me joy.

They are older now, sleeping in bigger beds and inhabiting slightly messier bedrooms. Their daily routine doesn’t require as much of me in the same physically intense way … but I still spy on them occasionally nightly when they’re asleep. I actually started snapping a picture here and there of my son asleep a few months ago on my iPhone. I can’t help myself. He may be almost as tall as me and on the doorstep of his teen years, but when he’s asleep, I can see the four-year-old he once was.

(He’s a funny sleeper. I had to share. He might have an issue with his mama posting silly pictures of him one day, but for now I have his blessing.)

When my children are asleep they aren’t trying to impress me or get my attention. And still I take great joy in their very existence. They simply breathe, and I am filled with pride and love.

Being a parent continues to give me new perspective into the heart of my Abba Father. Our church has been studying the book Purpose Driven Life, which starts by declaring that God planned us for His pleasure. He didn’t need us, but He wanted us. He made us so he could love us. As the Perfect Father, He takes pleasure in our custom-made, hand-crafted humanity. We are His, and we bring Him joy.

{Selah}

Perhaps this thought will help us sleep peacefully tonight.

About Angela:

Angela and her husband Rod have been married for 18 years and they have two children, Madison (15) and Miller (12). Angela works with the creative & media teams at Relate Church in Surrey, BC where she oversees art direction and communications. She loves finding beauty in everyday life and is passionate about communicating hope and the reality of a living Jesus through media and design.

Because of a Little Love: The Story of Beatrice and Agnes

Beatrice needed more than facial reconstructive surgery. She needed Agnes to remind her she is loved.

By Stephanie Motz Skinner | Twitter: @stephmotz

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©Fakeleft. Quote by Mother Teresa.

I am thinking about loneliness this week. Mother Teresa, a woman who witnessed extreme poverty and disease, believed that being unloved, rejected and lonely is a form of poverty.

She said: “We can cure physical diseases with medicine, but the only cure for loneliness, despair, and hopelessness is love. There are many in the world who are dying for a piece of bread but there are many more dying for a little love.”

A Little Love

When James and I heard of the opportunity to film a girl who had just undergone reconstructive surgery we jumped at the opportunity. It was the last footage we needed to complete the production of a short video for Living Hope that we’ve been working on and we were eager to begin piecing the final story together.

So we set off early one morning with a Living Hope team leader. She informed us that the girl we were filming would be returning to her home in Gulu soon. We were excited for her because we figured she was probably anxious to return to her family.

Meet Beatrice

To protect her identity, I’ll call her Beatrice. Beatrice is about fifteen years old. She had undergone two surgical procedures in a week and was recovering at a Watoto village near Kampala. A cheerful and loving Living Hope graduate named Agnes was caring for her. She had been trained to nurse reconstructive surgery patients after their operation and had spent a week nursing Beatrice. When we met them you could tell they had become increasingly attached to each other. Agnes would hug Beatrice and fix the scarf around her neck. She would wipe Beatrice’s chin when spittle would trickle from her healing lips.

The stitches around her lips made it difficult for Beatrice to speak, so Agnes shared with us the details of Beatrice’ story. Beatrice had not experienced war injuries but she had been born with a cleft lip and palate and this had profoundly damaged her quality of life.

Reassurance

As Agnes spoke, Beatrice stared blankly at the ground. She seemed shy and even a little scared. Agnes pulled her close. She caressed her head and whispered a few words to her in Acholi, their local language. Beatrice smiled and appeared reassured.

After listening to her story, we explained the purpose of the video we were working on. We pulled out the reflectors, set up the tripod, opened some windows and began directing.

As we filmed, the Living Hope team leader and Agnes spoke to Beatrice making her feel at ease. But after a few minutes of shooting, she suddenly began to cry. We immediately stopped. We thought maybe we had approached her insensitively and briefing her had not been enough. Maybe she needed a little encouragement. I immediately asked the team leader to translate for me, but after a few minutes the team leader interrupted me to tell me that we weren’t the reason she was crying.

Phew, I thought at first. But then she explained that Beatrice was crying, because while we were shooting, she was told she would soon be returning home and this was harrowing news to her.

Going Home

Beatrice’s community associated her birth deformity with witchcraft. So when she was born, her mother gave her the Acholi name for “the cursed one.” Her mother abandoned her when she was young and her grandmother who is raising her, mistreats her. Even though she goes to school and has a home to sleep in, Beatrice didn’t grow up experiencing kindness and care.

And yet she seemed like such an innocent child. She had a shy smile and a sweet and gentle demeanor. For the last week Agnes had treated Beatrice like a daughter. She didn’t just nurse her wounds, she nurtured her heart.

Later that day Beatrice was transported to a recuperation center in Gulu and I thought I’d never see her again. But a week later James and I traveled to Gulu and while we were there, we visited the Living Hope recuperation center where women recover from their reconstructive surgeries or are prepared for their upcoming procedures.

Flourishing

As we pulled into the driveway and parked our car, we spotted Beatrice. When she recognized us, she sprinted towards us. And as soon as I was out of the car, she gave me a huge hug, her healing lips quivering as she tried to contain her smile. It was as if her experience with Agnes had unlocked something inside her and this was allowing her to flourish. I like to believe that the care and love she experienced will give her the hope she needs to persevere through difficult times. I can’t be certain what is going to happen to Beatrice, but my brief encounter with her has reminded me that sometimes the simplest, most uncomplicated acts of love and service–the type that Agnes demonstrated towards Beatrice by simply being there for her and treating her with dignity–can bring healing to people in ways that can surprise us.

I know a person can’t subsist solely on love, but love feeds hearts and helps people flourish. Love and acceptance can help a person conquer her fears and reach her potential.

We all experience pain, but there are so many people in this world who are hurting alone. There are people out there who are seldom noticed and are isolated from their community. As I was thinking about Beatrice and many others like her, this documentary, A Way Out, came to mind:

A Way Out – documentary (2010) from Noora Shalaby on Vimeo.

I am reminded of the impact Love has on a person and how we should never take an encouraging word, a squeeze of the hand or an embrace for granted.
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So, beautiful SheLoves friends, what are your thoughts?

• What speaks to you in this post?
• Have you experienced or witnessed the impact that a simple act of love can have on a person?

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About Stephanie:
Stephanie is a humanitarian and portrait photographer for fakeleft.com where she shares stories of hope and dignity. She blogs at fakeleft.com/blog and tweets at @stephmotz

Seeking Eve Monday: On Trusting When it’s Scary

” … this year has shown me that my backup plans are useless when my world spins out of control.”

By Christina Crook
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The carelessness of childhood is, in its essence, the truest living of all.

It’s the perfect embrace of beauty. Of time and place. The unhurried presentness a seven-year-old has mastered in her 2,679 days of breathing in life.

She hasn’t had time to numb. She hasn’t yet descended into the torturous loss of perfect love. She hasn’t yet said goodbye to daddy, mommy. She hasn’t locked up the first, middle or last parts of her heart to save herself from the confusion of misdealt authority: teachers, politicians and preachers. Her eyes are still fierce with aim, clear as a glacial spring. She is new. She is here. She is now.

Jesus asked his disciples, “Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18)

Who among us is real like a child? Untethered. Unscripted. Abandoned in our love?

Our friend Emily is learning to live like a child all over again …

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My name is Emily Lucima.

Faith to me means trusting when it’s scary.

What I mean by that is when you lose a child, you and your husband lose your jobs, and your health declines all in the span of three months and you can’t see how life is going to turn around, you’re left with very few options – you’re left with what lives in your heart. You’re left with the truths you believe and have the opportunity to see how deeply you believe them, how strong your foundations are.

I have discovered that I have a lot more digging to do to strengthen my foundations. I used to worry. I used to be negative. I say “used to” because I am learning that’s not who I am created to be. I’m learning to speak what I know is positive and true regardless of what I see. I’m learning to trust when it’s scary.

These last few months have taught me that in 34 years of living, I had only trusted God as long as I had a backup plan: in case what he promised didn’t pan out. However, this year has shown me that my backup plans are useless when my world spins out of control. I am learning to admit when I don’t trust God, to take time to talk with him and tell him that I’m just not there. But then, more importantly, I am learning how to ask him to hold my hand and help me walk forward, choosing to trust him–even when I have no idea what tomorrow looks like or how any of this is going to change.

When I was little, I didn’t see this year coming. I had plans and dreams of what my life would look like and, truthfully, it didn’t look like this. On the flip side, my life looks a lot more like it did when I was six.

I grew up with amazing parents who worked hard and gave us the best of themselves. Though we didn’t have much at times, I can never remember lack in our house. I went to church weekly, was taught that I am loved greatly and deeply. I was taught that I am created for a purpose and was allowed to pursue my creativity with encouragement. I grew up just knowing that things were okay and that everything would work out somehow.

Somewhere along the way I forgot the simple things I knew as a child. I lived in the missed opportunities and the hurt. I learned to expect the negative. This crazy year (and my amazing husband) have taught me to remember what the six-year-old me knew so well: that things will be okay and that everything will work out.

My days are filled with the anticipation of things to come. God has restored my health and I believe for complete restoration before the year is out. This past year, provision came from places we never would have expected: people who love us helped us make ends meet at times and people we have never even met blessed us with what they had. God picked out two new jobs for me (literally – I got a phone call out of the blue and the other I stumbled across online) in two industries I never would have looked in, at companies I had never even thought of working at, where everyone loves to come to work. I now work with amazing women who love to encourage one another!

My days are filled with hope again. I’m learning to combine hope with “scary” faith in order to see the things I imagine come to life. I anticipate growing closer to the Father because I am realizing how much he loves me, how much I have been blessed with and how much more he wants to give.

I wish this year had been different. I often find myself wondering: “What if … ?” But I am learning to stop that train of thought, resolving to stop living in the past and start living for today.

A few weeks ago, I told a large group of people that this has been the worst year of my life. Shortly afterwards I realized that it’s not. This year of great tragedy has the potential to be our year of greatest victory because we’ve had so much to overcome!

The thing is: perspective. Instead of seeing this place as a deep dark hole I’m stuck in, Holy Spirit has shown me I can choose to see this as a purposeful time and place. Not a hole, but a building site: a place where I can work on digging deeper because I need a strong foundation for the amazing things I am going to build in my lifetime alongside my Lord and the great dreamer I call husband.

Today I give myself permission to be real about where I’m at in this walk we call “faith.” But I’m choosing not to live in yesterday. I’m choosing to tell Disappointment that I won’t be entertaining it. I’m learning to live from a place where I know that I don’t conduct the time and the seasons, so I hold a little less tightly to my plan and learn to be content.

I’m choosing to live and declare Psalm 28:7 “My heart trusts in him and I am helped.”

—–>>>You can read Emily’s blog Light Waters here.

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Would you like to contribute a Seeking Eve story?

I’d love to hear your story. Please share it by emailing Christina at seekingeve[@]gmail.com

To find words for your story, try following these lines, as Emily did:

Faith to me means [community / hope / food / sacrifice / art / etc] …

What I mean by that is …

When I was little I …

My days are filled with …

I wish …

The thing is …

Today I give myself permission …

About Christina:

Christina recently traded the seaside views of Bowen Island, BC for the banks of Toronto’s Humber River where she, her husband and two young children attend Grace Toronto Church. Her work has appeared in MUSE and Vancouver magazine, and is forthcoming in UPPERCASE, Geez and the Literary Review of Canada. She is the founder of SeekingEve.ca and blogs at www.christinacrook.com.

The Inspiration of Young Leaders

“I think the secret of leadership is to believe in and enjoy the people you lead.” What do you think? Please write me your leadership tips & advice below!

By Winnie Lui | Twitter: @INTELsashimi

“My name is Sarah and my favourite superhero is Batman.”

She spoke steadily into the camera, then glanced sideways at me for affirmation.

I was at the training grounds for young leaders last weekend. The BC Children’s Hospital Foundation lauched Operation Superhero last year, a three-year campaign to raise $5 million for the construction of an Oncology Inpatient Unit at the new hospital site, and they are involving youth aged 8 to 22 to help in the mission.

These Young Superheros serve as fundraisers and spokepersons for the hospital’s campaign, and in the process, become leaders among their peers and in their community.

But first they need superhero training.

The orientation last weekend encouraged and inspired these future leaders, teaching them practical skills like how to be confident, how to strategize their donation proposals and how to handle rejection. These are important social skills that will last them a lifetime.

It’s inspiring to see young people rising up as leaders. Meeting teenagers, hoodie-d and with oversized earphones hugging their jaws, or young ladies with dyed hair and fashionable make-up, I wasn’t quite expecting their calm confidence in talking about why they want to volunteer for BC Children’s Hosptial and what they expect to achieve.

Meeting these young volunteers prompted me to reflect on my own experience in stepping out, and to think about the question, “What is leadership?”

In some ways, I have gone through a similar journey as the Young Superheros: being a newbie, doing something I’ve never done before and running on the fumes of guts and venture–taking that leap of faith.

I did it when I started leading youth groups. The fun part about working with teenagers is that every meeting is an adventure. Akin to canoeing or hiking in the woods, the path taken at a youth meeting is rarely exactly as you planned, and at any given moment, you may need to adjust and take a different path, depending on what the situation dictates.

From my experience with youth groups, I see leadership this way: leadership is relating to those you lead, understanding them and feeling with them; sharing the mistakes and lessons learned in your own journey; doing your best to live out what you believe to be the best way of doing things; and letting your followers see, discover and decide their own path to go.

I think the secret of leadership is to believe in and enjoy the people you lead. People love to follow and work with someone who believes in them. That belief, in turn, raises and expands the followers’ capabilities, making the followers grow, and thus increasing the fruits of the leader’s leadership.

I once studied the insights of Andy Stanley, senior pastor to three churches and founder of North Point Ministries. In his book, Next Generation Leader, he describes leadership in very practical and applicable terms:

1. Focus on doing the things you’re good at doing. Don’t try to do everything; instead, delegate the stuff you hate doing and suck at doing. Do your best to invest as much time as possible doing the things that no one else can do as well as you can. Make your team members also focus on their specialties. This spells efficiency for any team.
2. Be the first to do something that needs to be done. Have the courage to take iniative, to step out before the crowd. Also have the courage to say no to opportunities that do not align with your priorities, and the courage to face the current reality.
3. Be clear. “Clarity is perceived as leadership.” Communicate clearly the goals and objectives. Be honest when the answer is unknown. In the midst of uncertainty, set a clear vision for the team.

Stanley’s insights are, of course, brilliant and the lessons gleaned from years of leadership experience. If I were to make my humble to-remember list for young leaders, here’s what I would write:

1. Leverage the strengths of your followers. You may be smarter than your followers in some ways, but they are smarter than you in other ways. Assign tasks and give junior leadership opportunities to your followers that both suit and challenge them. This way, you avoid being overwhelmed with work, and you begin doing what all leaders should do: grow new leaders.
2. Spend time listening to your followers. Leadership begins with understanding the context of your followers and building trust and connection.
3. Have co-leaders. Leadership is not a one-man task. At the very least, it’s helpful to have someone answer the door during the group activity or check on the cookies in the oven. Yet much more than that, co-leaders are an essential support and a valuable second point-of-view when debriefing, and discussing and planning the next steps.

Now it’s your turn. What have you learned in your life experience about leadership that you would like to share with future leaders? What key tips and strategies have worked for you? What have you seen other leaders do that you would love to emulate? I’d love it if you would write me some of your leadership pointers in the comments below!

About Winnie:

The wave of Asian immigration in the 1990s brought Winnie to Canada on a little red-mast junk. To fulfill her family’s dream of running a business in Hong Kong and giving the children a Western education, Winnie’s father commuted home to Canada during Christmas and Chinese New Year, and Winnie herself spent her childhood between the two continents and among many different schools and neighbourhoods. Her growing up experience has become a mosaic of cultures, languages, and perspectives. Winnie blogs at intellectualsashimi.com and tweets @intelSASHIMI

Photo credit: georgeparrilla, Esther Weng

Holy Motherhood!

On baby poop, picking up socks and living the holy in the ordinary.
By Sarah Styles Bessey

Blog: www.emergingmummy.com | Twitter: @emergingmummy
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I’m scrubbing washrooms and folding laundry and the baby just pooped everywhere. I’m organizing meals for the sick and trying to write and raise these tinies to live the big nouns of love and freedom and wholeness while still picking up their socks and we’re in the daily work of life, aren’t we, friends?

“I have come to believe that the true mystics of the quotidian are not those who contemplate holiness in isolation, reaching godlike illumination in serene silence, but those who manage to find God in a life filled with noise, the demands of other people and relentless daily duties that can consume the self.  They may be young parents juggling child-rearing and making a living; they may be monks or nuns in a small community who have to wear three or four “hats” because there are more jobs to fill than people to fill them.  If they are wise, they treasure the rare moments of solitude and silence that come their way, and use them not to escape, to distract themselves with television and the like. Instead, they listen for a sign of God’s presence and they open their hearts toward prayer.”

“God is so great that all things give Him glory if you mean that they should.”

~ from my much-beloved and dog-eared copy of Kathleen Norris’ life-transforming meditation “The Quotidian Mysteries: Laundry, Liturgy and Women’s Work.”

God is near and here right now. We’re contemplating holiness in the noise and the giving, we’re giving him glory in the moments, small and big, seen and unseen.

Here’s to finding–and glorifying–God in the everyday, my friends.

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About Sarah:

Sarah Styles Bessey lives in Abbotsford, BC with her husband and three tinies. She’s a happy clappy Jesus-lover, non-profit marketing director, blogger, writer and simple living/social justice wannabe. She blogs at www.emergingmummy.com and tweets from @emergingmummy.

Image credit: Michal Zacharzewski

Excessive Generosity & Other Stuff

On tricycles, following a radical Jesus and the UFC of fighting greed.

By Danielle Strickland | Twitter: @djstrickland

Occasionally I feel like I’m in an episode of Hoarders. You know, the show that reveals the apartments and houses of people who just keep collecting things and won’t throw anything away. I know of several people who sleep on their couches because their beds are completely stacked full of boxes and files and books and instruments and well, other junk, and it means they can’t get into their bedrooms any more. Some suggest that this is an actual mental disorder. I’d suggest it’s just an extreme version of what most of us suffer from–greed.

Now greed is a bit tricky, because most of us have been convinced that it’s measured by how MUCH stuff we have. Now, even if we are living on the minimum wage–or if we are on a government subsidy in any Western, developed country we are still in the top ten percent of the wealthiest people on the planet. I’m not kidding-–check out your own status here: globalrichlist.com

Two-thirds of the world live a whole year on the money we spend weekly on munchies–but that’s just it. It doesn’t mean we are greedy just because we are rich, does it?

What does greed look like?

My friend was a missionary for a few years in a pretty poor country. On the compound where she lived were several families. Some of them were from that country and some were from Western countries. One of the young little boys, Johnny (name changed) received a gift from his home country (a tricycle) and he was so excited that he was riding it around the compound all morning. His friend had never seen a tricycle before and was running around after him, enjoying the excitement of it all. Eventually, as Johnny got tired of riding, his friend asked him, ‘Can I try?’ At this question Johnny got very mad and said “No” and wouldn’t get off the tricycle. Quickly distracted, the little bike rider saw the swings close by and realized he felt like doing something different. But because he didn’t want to share his new bike he got off of it and picked it up in his little arms and carried it over to the swing set. He was not going to share that bike!

Greed looks like that … a staunch refusal to share.

If we are honest with ourselves, we are a lot like that little boy with his silly bike. We close our hands around whatever we can get and we don’t let anyone else have it. Actually, we have been taught to do this. A whole generation has been convinced by mass media campaigns, that without “stuff” that belongs to “us” we are empty and dissatisfied. You can watch a great video about this conspiracy of marketing and consumerism here.

Of course, we know the exact opposite is true–we can live our whole lives with everything we want (stuff) and be just as empty and lonely and lost as with a few dollars a day.

Another real problem with greed is that it grows.

Mother Teresa was once questioned by a skeptic reported who said to her, How can you believe in a God who allows people to go hungry? to which she replied, “Don’t you go blaming poverty on God. Poverty exists in the world simply because God’s children refuse to share.” Ouch.

So, how can we fight greed?

Jesus helps us out here. He lives a life that is radically different than the status quo. Greed isn’t a new idea–it’s an old one. Actually, it’s greed that caused Adam and Eve to want what they couldn’t have and then blame each other! Greed has caused war, famines, dictatorships and countless casualties of crime. So, Jesus always attacked greed with excessive generosity. Even salvation is generous–he made it free for anyone who would receive it. Jesus took what originally belonged to the Jews’ (the message of the Messiah) and shared it with the entire world. He lived what I call an open-handed life. He was free.

Ever since I began to see the posture Jesus assumed–the way He lived His life open-handed, I’ve been trying to live like Him. It’s hard, but it’s fun. It wasn’t that Jesus didn’t receive–even as a young baby He received extravagant gifts. It wasn’t that Jesus didn’t have any money (He had appointed a disciple just to look after the cash). It’s that Jesus wasn’t owned by his money, gifts, status, successes. Freely He received, freely He gave. This is an open-handed posture.

Why don’t we live more like that?

Jesus instructs his disciples to make this the posture of their whole lives, “Freely you’ve received, now freely give.” (Matthew 10:8) Once the disciples catch this radical idea of living open-handed in a closed fist world … it’s amazing what happens. Thousands of people get saved in one day. Miraculous prison breaks, people are healed, saved, set free. There are dead people raised up. People started to live together to share resources. The scriptures tell us that the first disciples so caught this message that in their community no one was in need. Acts 4:32-35, which by the way, was the miraculous sign for the Israelites in the desert in Exodus 16:18: “the one who gathered much did not have too much, and the one who gathered little did not have too little. Everyone had gathered just as much as they needed). Wow. They solved poverty by learning to live with an open hand. Freely they received, now freely they gave. It’s a radical way to live–and it’s like the UFC of greed fighting. It’s a full assault on the spirit of greed that seeks to bind up our generation. I’m so ready for radical generosity as a lifestyle.

Ownership

When my son was a little boy we went to visit some friends who had already spent some years learning to live a different way. They shared their home with others and they opened their house for community meals, sharing their food and their family fun nights with people who didn’t have either food or family. It was an exciting way to live. Our kids were playing in the toy room and we soon heard a fight break out with the descriptive words, “It’s MINE!”

That’s the first way we fight–greed. My friend Aaron rushed into the room and said to his eldest son, “Whose toy is that again?” and his eldest son looked at his dad and said, “It’s Jesus’ toy.”

“That’s right,” said Aaron, “and Jesus let you play with it right?”

“Yes,” said his young boy.

“So do you think Jesus would mind if you gave it to your friend to play with now?”

“Ok.”

Problem solved.

And if we think a little harder about this exchange, it’s actually revolutionary. See, the root problem of greed is about ownership. We think because we bought something or were given something, that it belongs to us. What we forget is an essential Kingdom principle: Everything belongs to God. He shares the entire resources of the earth with His people. How rude of us to take what is freely given and store it away and hoard it for ourselves. And not only is it rude, but it’s also rotten. Like the Hoarders episodes where most of us are horrified by the way people explicitly collect things at the expense of living their own lives–seeing how literally their quality of life is extremely diminished as a result of their closed-handedness–we look at them and shake our heads and go on living the same way ourselves. Our greed might be dressed a bit nicer and easier to look at, but how often we still invest our lives in the things that don’t even matter.

About Danielle
Danielle serves Jesus as the Corps Officer of Crossroads Community in Edmonton, Canada. Her passion is social justice, including establishing human trafficking response teams in local situations and giving leadership to the global team for the Stop The Traffik campaign. Danielle speaks and teaches around the world and has written several books: Just Imagine: the social justice agenda, Challenging Evil, and newly released this year, The Liberating Truth: How Jesus Empowers Women. Danielle is married and has two sons.