Sneaking in a little encouragement now and then

Many of my regular readers will be surprised and delighted to know that not all things are as gloomy as I sometimes portray them. I’m one of those “glass is half empty” types, but it’s amazing how God brings certain people into my life—to speak a word of wisdom or direction or encouragement—just when I need it most. Funny thing is, a lot of this comes from fellow Christians who live on the other side of the planet through this strange phenomenon we have come to know as “blogging.”

One of my new friends contacted me a couple of days ago via email in response to the news I shared about my recent diagnosis of a heart condition. Next thing you know, my phone’s ringing on Friday night from a brother I’ve never met who lives in another country, just because he wanted to be a tangible expression of the love of Christ in the midst of my weakness and discouragement. Thanks, friend! I know you’ll be reading this and I wanted to say how much I appreciate hearing your voice and getting to know you by phone. Love that accent, too! Several other friends left various comments assuring me of their commitment to pray and directing my attention to Father’s promises.

My friend, Michael Spencer, has written a poignant article about the under-the-radar missional ministries of those who have moved into the post-Katrina Gulf Coast area: cleaning up the mess (you thought it was over, but it’s not) and helping people rebuild their homes. He predicts they will never make the evangelical “big time” with their names up in lights. Why? Because they “are a different kind of church. A footwashing, gospel-living, Kingdom-embodying, incarnational movement of Jesus followers.” He goes on to say,

It’s that way with ministries all around you. The ones that shelter homeless people. The “rescue missions.” The battered women’s shelter. The facilities providing care for Alzheimer’s families. The outreaches to build houses for the poor and to try to repair substandard houses in Appalachia. The volunteer crisis pregnancy centers. The literacy programs. The “Help” programs that provide assistance with utilities.

Sometimes I feel so insignificant in terms of ministry success and, at times, I play the “what if” game in my mind. What if I had just played the denominational game with a little more finesse and savvy? I could still be drawing a near-six-figure salary and benefit package in the Sunshine State, rather than working with homeless people, heroin addicts, those with serious mental illnesses, agnostics and prostitutes in the damp and grey Welsh weather. Spencer’s words below [emphasis mine] ring in my heart and I just want to say “Thanks!”

To be honest, many don’t know if they will be open six months from now. Their staffs aren’t making six figures or driving a Lexus. Those who loyally serve at those ministries long ago got used to getting by on whatever second hand donations of money and goods show up. They depend on God to see what happens. They can’t make it happen otherwise.

They are no big thing. In fact, for many of these small, unglamorous ministries, there is a kind of invisibility, even locally. They aren’t competing for young families with the church across town by adding another kickin’ band. They aren’t working on how to appear hip, cool and relevant. They are trying to hammer a nail, keep a drunk off the street, save some children, hand out some blankets and food. They are trying to do justice and show mercy.

Wayne Jacobsen, shares some advice given by a good friend of his—a hospice chaplain—to a young couple facing a diagnosis of colon cancer. It’s great counsel for anyone, facing cancer or any other illness:

Just accept the illness and offer yourself to God, for He alone is the One who does all things well. Go through all the chemo/radiation, etc. but relax with it. Get to know people, share with them. I had some great times in the chemo room, and met some fantastic folks along the way.

An illness such as this is a tremendous opportunity to grow in the Lord. Sometimes though, we panic, and believe the statistics, etc. which has a way causing a certain amount of futility. “What’s the use?” we think. In my ten years as a Hospice Chaplain, the one thing I noticed about all of the patients was that they had given up. The attitude of a cancer patient and family must simply be, “Let’s see what God has for us in all of this.” I am not talking about whistling in the dark. I am talking about spiritual reality. As Jesus said, “God knows all these things that you have need for.” He knows what is going on and He loves us so deeply. He wants us to know that and that is the key. He is not out to, get us.

He’s right. Christians do fall prey to panic and feelings of futility. I’ve been up and down all week, since hearing my cardiologist’s diagnosis; although underneath the fluctuating concerns and emotions and questions is the solid foundation of faith in God’s unfailing love and grace in my life.

And it was encouraging to read Andrew Jones’ description of the churches he’s involved in planting here in the UK, although the article was originally written about Rob Bell, an American pastor whom I met briefly last April at the Christian Bookseller’s Convention in Telford, England. The Tall Skinny Kiwi describes these new UK churches [emphasis mine]:

They start small and grow [emerge] in an organic fashion without transfer growth and certainly not with a chunk of people handed over from another church to kick-start them. These churches don’t have pastors or paid leaders and they generally don’t own buildings but sometimes they do rent space for communal gatherings, or residential communities, or art-space, or business enterprise, but not necessarily a ‘worship service’. These groups are usually local, small, integrated in the community [missional], and not always visible to the public as an official group or organization. Their goal is not to attract people to an event but rather to penetrate the community with the love of God and embody the gospel as well as communicate it.

Finally, I love the way Alan Knox thinks about the church and what it means to be a community of believers, sharing more than just a pew on Sunday mornings. In an article this past week, he wrote of the importance of making time for one another: actually rearranging our normal pattern of life to make room for members of the family of God. Great advice! We get in a rut, don’t we? It takes a conscious effort to break out of our own routines and then reach out to new friends and family within the body of Christ.

Thanks, everyone!