Come As You Are

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Years ago, Ironman used to wear nice Dockers, pressed shirts, a tie, and a sport's jacket to preach in on Sunday mornings.  The church, at the time, was dissatisfied with his appearance and he was, unexpectedly, given a (generous) gift to purchase two tailored suits to be used for leading, preaching, and teaching.  At the time, we were told there was a certain image the church wanted to portray through its leaders.

PROFESSIONAL.  SHARP.  PUT-TOGETHER.  BUSINESS-LIKE.

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We gratefully, and naively accepted the monetary gift, and did exactly what was expected.  Without  giving the "heart" a second thought, we melted into the church culture and polished everything we said, did, and wore.  We wanted to be an asset and strength to the ministry of the church.  If they believed Dockers, jackets, and ties were not enough, we listened.  Tailored suits it would be.

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Part of my church experience as a young person was within the Mennonite church culture.  Women were expected to wear coverings on their heads, they only wore simple dresses or skirts, they didn't cut their hair, and they wore no make-up.  I understand the beautiful honor for God many of these Mennonite women have in their hearts by following these traditions.  I have GREAT RESPECT for those whose hearts are fully offered to God in this, their personal form of worship.  As a young girl, I was told that women were to portray this image to others.

HUMILITY.  SUBMISSION.  SIMPLICITY.  REVERENCE. 

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Sometimes, though, tradition drowns the reason of why things are done, and the "heart" is forgotten.  Sometimes, tradition becomes rules, and rules become a platform of pride where judgment of others, who don't do or believe the same, is accepted.

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In our ministry experience over the previous two decades, I've watched the church, as a whole, grow and change to accommodate our affluent culture.  Many churches seek to be culturally relevant with driving programs, slick services, dynamic preaching and teaching, jaw-dropping facilities, and cutting-edge music/worship.  Some pastors have traded in their tailored suits for jeans and t-shirts for the sake of being relevant to the younger generation.  Some churches have become a platform of excellence and can compare to almost any secular institution.

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Please don't hear me wrong.  I know lives are being changed, needs are being met, and real ministry is happening within these churches- within the church as a whole.


GOD CAN MOVE AND SPEAK, AND LEAD AND GUIDE WITHIN *ANY* SETTING WHERE HE IS EARNESTLY SOUGHT.

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I don't write to offend those who wear suits, or jeans, or wear coverings, or have state-of-the-art worship services that put even Hollywood to shame.  I am writing, because...

I AM CONCERNED THAT WE ARE TOO WRAPPED UP IN OUR IMAGES.

The church is consumed with image- and we are consumed with our own images.  We get so wrapped up in doing and creating something to project for others to see and believe, that we begin to hide behind the facade.  We have lost ourselves and lost precious parts of the church due to... 
  
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FRIENDS, WE HAVE FORGOTTEN.

WE HAVE FORGOTTEN TO COME AS WE ARE...

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Strip away your image, and fall at the feet of HIM who sees and knows you better than you know yourself.  He doesn't want suits or dresses, or polished excellence.

HE WANTS YOU...

ONLY YOU...


Broken and cracked, threadbare and torn...

WE ARE ALL IMPERFECT...

COME.

If you are filled with shame or filled with pride, tattooed and  tattered, weathered and worn,  beat and bedraggled,  empty or full...

AS YOU ARE...

COME.

If you are full of sorrow or full of joy, lost or found, confused or certain, at peace or in rags...

AS YOU ARE...

COME.

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GOD DOESN'T CARE ABOUT IMAGE.  HE CARES ABOUT YOUR HEART.

You are a beautiful mess to HIM. I am a beautiful mess to HIM.  HE only wants me to come, and you to come.

COME AS YOU ARE...  

"The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."  1 Samuel 16:7 (NIV)

Hear HIS whisper and come...

 

Andy Griffith and the Days Gone By.....

Our family has been watching re-run episodes of The Andy Griffith Show on Netflix for the past couple of months.  As I was tinkering around the kitchen pulling the last elements of dinner together, I stopped dead in my tracks.  The scene on the TV gripped  my heart in a way unexpected.

Andy, Aunt Bea, Opie, and Ellie Mae were sitting on the porch enjoying the summer evening.  Andy serenaded them on his guitar with a whimsy and eloquence all the same, creating a song on the fly about it being Opie's bedtime.  As if this wasn't enough cozy to warm my sappy nostalgic heart, along came Barney strolling in the moonlight.  Andy called out, "Barn, why don't you come on up here and sit a spell with us."  Barney meandered up to the porch, and sat down right where he belonged.

I was gripped by sadness.  I was actually fighting back tears.  You see, something has been lost...

SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL FROM DAYS GONE BY... 

LOST.

Community- true community- just seemed to happen naturally back then.  Front porches facilitated an outlet for people to gather, celebrate, mourn, and just plain belong.  When did we stop building porches on our houses?  When did we decide it would be better to go inside than to connect with our neighbors- with our community?  When did the heartfelt care and concern for those around us somehow become less of a priority?  When did we stop being a place for others to belong?

The front porch was part of community culture all those years ago.  My dad tells stories of sitting on the porch as a little boy, and knowing every single person in his neighborhood and most things about them.  Everyone waved, everyone smiled, some climbed the steps, grabbed a chair, and sat for a "spell."

SOMETIMES, I WONDER IF I WAS BORN IN THE WRONG GENERATION.

SIGH...

Now, we are too consumed with the hustle and bustle of life.  Our careers pressure us, and the drive to accomplish the American dream becomes the priority.  Our kids seem to constantly need taxied from one place to the next.  Activities outside our homes fill in the gaps. We are worn out and exhausted, and we unwind in front of the TV or computer screen.

WE HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT PORCHES.

In the days gone by, community seemed to be formed and built seamlessly and effortlessly.  Now, building community takes intentionality, effort, and persistence.  I want to be a place for people to belong, and I want to belong.  I don't want to think of what is lost with sadness, I want to strive to build something new.

I am thankful for Andy Griffith, and the legacy he left.  He has given us a picture of something worthy of recapturing... something to strive for and build...  something beautiful to seek and find.

PERHAPS, IN OUR CURRENT GENERATION OUR "PORCHES" LOOK A BIT DIFFERENTLY THAN THEY USED TO? 

Perhaps my upside-down little blog is a porch of sorts?  Please come.  Pour yourself a glass of iced-tea and sit with me a "spell."  I hope and pray you find the encouragement you seek, and may you always find grace and belonging here on the porch of my heart.

The Costly Flower

SHE STARTLED US.

We pulled into the parking space at our local Walmart, and a simply dressed lady, face weathered beyond her years from stress and sunshine, approached our vehicle even before we could get out.  Her pre-teen son held a bouquet of silk flowers.  "Could you please help us by buying one of our flowers?  We would appreciate anything you can give." 

We quickly scoured through our vehicle looking for loose change or dollars. We rarely carry cash, and all we could find between the seats, under the floor-mats, in the ash-tray, and at the bottom of my purse was a measly seventy-four cents.  PATHETIC.  Our youngest daughter, Sunshine Girl (click HERE to read her other flower story), chimed in from the backseat, "I have a dollar.  I want to give them my dollar."

TO AN EIGHT-YEAR-OLD A DOLLAR IS STILL A LOT.

Sunshine Girl had been carrying her dollar around for weeks trying to decide which Dollar Tree item would be worthy enough for her to part with her cash.  When she learned of this family's need, she didn't hesitate.  She handed me her crumpled dollar, that had been washed and dried at least once, to add to the seventy-four cents we had scrounged.  Sunshine Girl gave all she had to give with a giant smile plastered on her face.


"Then a poor widow came and dropped in two small coins.  Jesus called his disciples to him and said, "I tell you the truth, this poor widow has given more than all the others who are making contributions."  Mark 12:42-43 NLT


Ironman handed  the lady our money, and Sunshine Girl selected a yellow flower to keep.  I felt guilty that our family took a flower with such a measly donation, but...

MY LITTLE GIRL HAD JUST GIVEN EVERYTHING SHE HAD, NOT EXPECTING ANYTHING IN RETURN.

I wanted to allow her be blessed for her gift.


The weathered mother looked at us humbly through her sky blue eyes, "Thank you.  We just don't know what to do anymore... thank you."

HONEST-HEARTFELT THANKS FOR A DOLLAR AND SOME CHANGE... 

A DOLLAR... 

AND SOME CHANGE...

Ironman went  into the store to pick up the few items we needed.  I sat in the car with our kids thinking about the mama and her son.  My thoughts drifted on the reality of our own lives, and how we could have easily been in her situation more than once.  Ministry has not been kind to us.  Several years ago, we experienced being forced from a thriving ministry we loved which left us instantly jobless with a child on the way.  We've most recently experienced the utter exhaustion that comes from carrying people for years, and giving too much for too long.  These things, and many things in between, have left us on the brink more than once.  If it wasn't for my gracious parents we could have been in this mother's shoes... twice. I swallowed hard and fought tears.  We have been shown much grace.

GRACE...   

I imagined the mom and her boy sitting in their humble home- worried about where the next meal was coming from... worried about paying rent...  worried about medicine, electricity, clothes, dignity.  

DIGNITY...

Perhaps they spent their last few dollars buying ball-point pens, florist's tape, and silk flowers in hopes of making something people would want to purchase.  If they could sell the flower pens, it wouldn't be the same as taking a hand-out.  People might see their hearts, listen to their story, and know they were trying.  Maybe this was the only way they knew how to feel human in the midst of desperation?

TO THE LADY AND HER SON, THE BOUQUET OF FLOWERS WAS EVERYTHING.

They put their hope in the flowers that probably cost them all they had.  They trusted that by selling the flowers, their faithful investment would multiply.  Each flower was constructed with a prayer that their gaping need would somehow be filled.   

I texted Ironman emphatically and told him that we had to do something more.  I watched the soft-spoken mother go from car to car.  The bouquet was steadily shrinking.  I worried that Ironman wouldn't return before they left the parking lot, so I texted him again, "Hurry!" 

Just in time, Ironman appeared with two burgers and two cokes.  I jumped out of the car and took dinner to the mother and her son.  I slipped a bill into her hand.  As she was reaching to give me change, I turned and walked away.  She called out to me, "God bless you."  Her voice cracked, and her blue eyes filled with tears, "Jesus bless you."  I turned to her and said, "He has... through you.  Jesus bless YOU."

I asked Sunshine Girl if I could borrow her flower pen for a little while.  She, of course, said yes.  It's sitting in a special basket on a shelf in my room as a reminder.  When I look at it, I can't help but think of all the ways we are blessed.  We are surrounded by the love of family, and friends that are truly family. Every single one of our needs is, and has been cared for.  We may not be rich with monetary wealth, but we are overflowing with abundance in riches that really matter.  The flower reminds me of the cost one family paid to scrape by.  One dollar and seventy-four cents, two burgers, two cokes, a bill, and some prayers wasn't nearly enough to pay for the costly flower.

SHE STARTLED US.

...and I am grateful!   

"Feed the hungry, and help those in trouble.  Then your light will shine out from the darkness, and the darkness around you will be as bright as noon."  Isaiah 58:10