Would Jesus Invite a Porn Star to the Prom?

(Originally posted on March 23, 2012)

I never attended a prom. Back in my day, with a certain number of credits, short of a diploma, we could obtain a “certificate,” which had no value beyond getting out of classes you hated, which was pretty much all of them for me. Today, you’re just labeled a loser and drop-kicked into the world to fend for yourself.

But prom prep is coming very soon to a high school near you. It’s time for the annual dress shopping and thirty-day diet protocol; time for the reality check that, for some like me, no one would invite you if you begged and paid for a date with the biggest loser in school. It’s humiliating.

Who knows, maybe it would have happened if a guy like Mike Stone had been around in my day. Here’s the headline I caught in the news a few days ago that prompted this post. Granted, our friend here may have had a different motive than Jesus. But who’s to judge anyway?

Teen’s porn star date to prom scuttled by district officials. 

Now back to Jesus. I know, I know, there’s nothing in scripture about Jesus’ prom. Do you know why? Why is there nothing about him from the age of twelve to thirty-three when he began his ministry? Did you ever wonder about that? Well, I have a theory (of course, you do, Linda!).

When Jesus got in trouble for going off to the Temple without telling his parents, that was just the beginning of his rebellious streak. His teen years were just around the corner. The hair instantly stands up on the back of the neck of any parent who has raised teenagers – can I get an AMEN?!

On his thirteenth birthday, Jesus invited all the misfits in the neighborhood, and a few clowns with balloons, to his party, along with his snooty relatives, and they were livid! After that, his relatives refused to attend his birthday parties, which was fine because they were too stuffy anyway!

I’m sure the real challenge for Mary and Joseph was the unexpected letter from Jesus’ principal just before graduation. Fortunately, they hadn’t rented his tux yet. The letter read:

Dear Mr. & Mrs. Joseph (last name unknown),

I regret to inform you that we have had to administer an out-school suspension for Jesus. As a result, he will not be allowed to attend graduation ceremonies or prom. We have repeatedly discussed with him the school “rules”, yet he has continued to defy them. We have given him ample opportunities to follow the regulations required of all our students and feel we have no other choice in the matter. Below you will find the documented offenses:

Jesus has demonstrated a refusal to adhere to the precepts of submission to his teachers and repeatedly questions their authority to run roughshod over the troublemakers. He seems to have a misguided concern for the poor, the meek, and the place of women in our society. We have laws and customs, you know! You really need to talk to him about that. We would also caution you to be more aware of these people he is associating with. You know – birds of a feather! I’m just sayin’.

He will receive his diploma by postal carrier.

Regards,

Mr. Caesar,

Principle, Nazareth High School (Go, Lions!)

Now, do you see why scripture writers probably skipped over this period of Jesus’ life?  They collectively decided that teens are too easily influenced by their peers, which could tick off parents. Anyway, back to that dreadful letter…

The letter arrives. Then…that dreaded, you know you’re in trouble, summons,  “JESUS!” (No middle name here either; too bad. Middle names are critical for a parent’s emphasis! So it loses some of its oomph.) But Jesus knew what was coming. “Dad, I can explain.” Joseph was calm and attentive, “Okay, I’m listening.” Joseph was actually proud of his son but contained himself because Mary was listening from the kitchen.

This conversation ended as you might expect – with a parable! (This is where he got the material for his later ministry, trying it out on mom and dad.)

“See dad; there’s this rich guy who prepared a banquet. He first invited all the “important” people. But they all had some lame excuse not to attend. Now he’s furious thinking of the rejection and the money he wasted on those ingrates. So, he went to Plan B. He ordered more pizza, rented a big ole bus, grabbed the servant, and ordered him not to return until he rounded up every misfit he could find. It’s party time! Pizza and beer with true friends trumps wealth, fame, and fortune! (Luke 14:16-24). Joseph gave him a high-five and assured Mary it was all straightened out.

So, I’ll ask you again – would Jesus take a porn star to his prom?

 Of course, he would have (not as a date, silly!), but along with every lost and broken person God loved and the “popular kids” rejected.  And what a grand time they would have had!

Major New Year’s Resolution Fail – AGAIN!

(originally posted 1/13/2019)

This was going to be the year I would recreate myself! Maybe I’ll try to be the first great-grandmother on The Titan Games! YEAH! That’s the ticket! I missed the opportunity to be the oldest great-grandmother bodybuilder in the Guinness Book of World Records. That coveted title went to Ernestine Shepherd, who recently celebrated her eightieth birthday! Okay. But I can still impress the masses with my stellar fitness! It will be epic!

I was off to a great start on January 1st! I got out my planner, dusted off my scale, bought some adorable running pants, ordered some new microgreen seeds & potting soil, found that meditation DVD I bought last year, and revamped my workout routine. BAM! Ready to go.

But NO!  Two weeks into the new year, and I haven’t committed to anything! Statistically, I only have a few more weeks before I give up. According to U.S. News, “approximately 80% of resolutions fail by the second week of February.” so the odds are against me. But it’s not ALL my fault!

I am currently working with the homeless for St. Vincent DePaul. Since I am the only one in my parish doing it, I receive all the phone calls for assistance. (I have not given any personal information or used anyone’s real name here. I should have given myself an alias, as this is another embarrassing “tell on Linda” post.)

Monday morning:

The phone rang—a message on our helpline. A homeless woman was at a motel. Could I call her?

Betty just completed her fourth chemo treatment for colon cancer and has COPD. In our conversation, she told me how she loved the nuns at St. Mary’s Academy, where she went to high school “a long time ago”. Smiling through broken and missing teeth, she wondered if any of the nuns that taught her were still there and could she visit them?

How did her life go so wrong? She and her husband had been homeless for years. Her husband could never seem to provide for them. They never owned a home. She never had her own gym in her basement (ahem). Her “workout routine” consisted of wrestling to get comfortable and stay warm in the car she and her husband slept in. And yet, this woman praised God. How is that possible?

Tuesday morning:

I have always struggled to lose weight. I know what to do. I just choose not to. But no more! In preparation for my return to healthy eating, I have gotten rid of everything that tempts me to failure and replaced it with all things fresh, green, and organic! WOOT! WOOT!

The phone rang – a message on our helpline. Could we help a homeless family trying to get home to Kentucky?

Jim and his wife, their three kids, and her mentally disabled brother lost their home in a fire in Nebraska. Friends in Louisville offered them a place to stay and jobs there. But they ran out of money and gas and had a flat tire. Mom & dad hadn’t eaten for two days to provide for the kids, but now they were out of food. So we provided them with a room for the night and gave them money for gas, tire repairs, and bags of food. All items with pop-top lids they could eat cold while they traveled. These were fill-a-void-in-the-stomach foods. NOT A SINGLE GREEN THING in those bags. And yet, Jim’s eyes fill with tears of gratitude.

He told me they felt they had lived in a good community. Their neighbor’s kids were always at their home. They called him “Uncle Jim”. But, after the fire, not one neighbor reached out to help them. He and his wife could not believe the love and support they received here from strangers.

Their hearts ached for their kids and her brother because of what they were going through. But I could see something else: Their love for God, each other, and their kids. Somehow I knew they would prevail over their struggles. Their kids were learning tough but powerful life lessons. They were actually the happiest kids I have ever seen! Can you imagine?

Cold spagettios would not be the choice of a health snob like me. After having met such a beautiful family, it made me wonder how strong my faith would be; how well I would survive in their circumstances. I’ve never been tested like that. Nor do I want to be! Truth be told, I’m probably not as strong or resilient as I would like to believe.

Wednesday morning:

Okay, this was it! It was SO COLD, but I was determined to pull on my new running pants,  jacket, and hat I bought when we went to the French Alps over the holidays – and go! I usually don’t like running in the cold, but this is the new me. Bring it on!

Then the phone rang—a message on our helpline. A young dad, his wife, and a two-year-old were staying at the motel. The manager was trying to overlook the fact that they were falling further and further behind. Could we help them?

Jason rode a bike to work from the motel to a new job ten miles away. His two-year-old son was ill and had seizures. All their income went to the motel bill. They had no family or support.

The difference between Jason and me should be obvious. He doesn’t ride his bike in the winter because he is obsessed with the benefits of exercise and loves the challenge. And I don’t have to be out in bad weather if I don’t want to. Instead, I can go back to bed or down to my basement and jump on the treadmill.

Thursday Morning:

For years, I was able to maintain a healthy weight. I ran half-marathons for seven years. In 2010 I ran two! That was the year after I had a kidney removed. Basically, I ROCKED it! Now, I beat myself up for failing to get my act together. And I don’t believe age has anything to do with it. (So, get that thought out of your head.) I’M JUST LAZY. There, I said it! But I need to get over it and realize that I am not happy where I’m at and the only one who can change that is me.

Then the phone rang—a message on our helpline. A homeless couple staying at the motel ran out of money. She was disabled, and he was out of work. Could we help them?

When I met with Rick and Amy, I held the door to the room we used to fill out intake paperwork. Rick had to help Amy walk. Every step seemed labored. She had been in a motorcycle accident and broke her back. At the time, she was a nurse. Now, she was on total disability. Her constant pain was more than I could imagine or bear to watch. They had never been homeless before. He always had a good job and worked hard to provide for his family. Then, due to circumstances involving his ex-wife, a shady lawyer, and back child support, he ended up in jail for three days, which awarded him a police record. They also took his driver’s license away, so he lost his job.

When they first became homeless, he lived in his car for two months, and she went to live with a friend. They tried to get into a shelter before calling us, but the only bed available was an upper bunk, which she couldn’t manage. Yet they expressed gratitude to God even when their lives were turned upside down. So why weren’t they shaking their fists at God?

I could go on and on with the stories of pain and struggle we encountered almost daily. But, somehow, right now, at the beginning of this new year, God has been shining a bright light on the contrast between my “personal” resolutions and his focus on my transformation. I’m sure he has no problem with my wanting to be healthy. But I’m betting he thinks I take it too far, focusing too much on myself. Our transformation is what he desires. It is what we were made for, not simply a lifestyle change.

Marcus Borg ends his most profound book, Speaking Christian, with these words, “Christianity…at its best, is about truth, goodness, and beauty. And it addresses the two great yearnings – our longing for personal transformation and our desire that the world be a better place.”

The Christian message reduced to its essentials is: love God (as known in Jesus) and love everyone.” Okay. My first and foremost resolution will hopefully endure every day I wake up until I take my last breath: Love God above all things, and find ways to touch others with that love every day. And, please God, may I have left this world a little bit better for having been here.

Sweatpants optional – with one caveat:  1 Corinthians 6:19 – “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit?” This “temple”  is meant to be healthy as God created it, so we can physically do his work. You can decipher that however you like.

Jeff Larson cartoon

The Homeless Woman Who Ruined my Lunch

(Originally posted on July 27, 2012)

Image by Freepik

What do we hate most about the homeless? In a word – they’re “inconvenient.” They show up in our lives in the most awkward places. Unless we’re on our guard they can shake our complacency to its core. Why can’t they just stay out of sight, go live in a shelter, get a job, or, at the very least, stand with their signs somewhere else? Who believes they’re really needy anyway? They probably have a nice car parked around the corner that we paid for! Or, if we do give them our measly change, they’ll probably use it for drugs or alcohol.

By the way, I’ve never bought drugs, but I’m pretty sure they cost more than a few coins from the bottom of your purse. Now, as for alcohol, if Boones Farm Strawberry Hill wine is still on the market, that’s probably pretty affordable. At least, it was for me so many years ago. But that’s a story for another day.

So, yesterday, I came to a stoplight at a highway exit. I missed the light and was forced to sit uncomfortably, making every effort to disregard the homeless woman on the corner. It was 104° in the shade, and the light took forever to change! I chose to ignore her because she’s there a lot, and I have given her money in the past. I didn’t feel obliged to give her anything this time.

Finally, I pulled away and went straight to Panera Bread for lunch. Panera Bread is my favorite place to eat, next to home. I always get the Fuji Apple Chicken Salad with Balsamic Vinaigrette on the side. I can no longer eat their lovely whole grain baguettes because I am gluten intolerant. Sad, huh? Poor me…poor, poor pitiful me.

Anyway, as I looked down at my lovely salad, the guilt was so immense I could barely get it down. I was reminded of my most humbling encounter with the homeless woman in Belfast, Northern Ireland, in 2005. And yet, here I was again, confronted with my hardness of heart, listening remorsefully to God’s admonishments and offering my feeble response, “I’m so sorry, Lord. I did it again. I am so sorry!”

I packed up my salad, got in my car, and prayed as I drove toward the overpass where she stood, “Please be there, please be there!” She was still there! You would think I won the lottery! I quickly drove up the highway ramp, exited, got back on the highway, and exited again where she was standing, all the while, digging in my purse for money. $10? No! This was at least a $20 transgression. Yes, $20. Like God would be more impressed with that. I’m a moron!

This time, when the light turned red, there were four cars in front of me. I threw my car in park, got out, and ran to her (she was limping so badly the first time, I didn’t want her to have to hobble up the hill. I felt bad enough as it was). I handed her the money, hugged her sweaty, dirty body, returned the blessing she offered me first, and ran back to my car, which, by then, was blocking traffic.

Now, I know what you may be thinking, “You’re such a sucker, Linda! It was all an act and the limp was fake”. Maybe that’s true, but here’s the thing. I don’t give a rip if it was all staged for effect and God doesn’t either. He only wants to know where our hearts are. Then, he wants to dig in there and transform them if we allow him to.

Not surprisingly, this lesson was just beginning. They say life repeats its lessons over and over until we get them. And I am, hands down, to God’s dismay, the world’s slowest learner. This, clearly, was going to require some additional work and God was happy to oblige.

On the same evening of my encounter with the smelly likes of Jesus, I attended a gathering of old high school friends. Those encounters always include the ones we never liked and I had the misfortune of sitting next to one of them. She was still as crabby and mean as she was then with some additional flab and wrinkles – which secretly delighted me.

I hate to call myself out on this, but it’s pertinent to this story. Please don’t judge me, I do enough of that on my own. Anyway, one of my honest-to-goodness friends asked me how my work with the homeless for St. Vincent dePaul was going (I know, busted!). Well, this woman with no filter, began to spew her indignation toward those nasty homeless people who have the nerve, the nerve, to interrupt her life! If, if, she was going to give any of them money she wanted to control what they did with it. Great!

I sat and listened to her rail against them and mumbled under my breath, “Lord, really? Did you set this up? It would be just like you! Fine. Can I get a beer, because this is going to take a while, isn’t it? By the way, have I said how sorry I am that we have to revisit my cold, hard indifference to those you love so deeply?

I would soon have an hour’s drive home to ponder it all, in particular, my hesitation to discuss it with that woman at our meeting (she’s not really my friend anyway) The words God spoke to my heart penetrated my very soul, “Woe to you, Linda. You hypocrite! Don’t even think about judging her!” Right, okay, I have no right to judge anyone. But, what I wanted to say to her – I needed to hear myself. So here it goes…

We have our favorite defenses against helping the homeless. The most common seem to be:

  • I can’t help everyone.
  • It’s not my responsibility.
  • I want to know what they are going to do with the money.
  • They’re lazy, they need to get a job.
  • Or, my all-time favorite: Let’s put it on God. – “LORD, WHY DO YOU ALLOW THIS, WHY DON’T YOU DO SOMETHING?!”

The next morning, I tried to sit quietly in prayer (I’m warning you, don’t do that unless you are prepared for your life to change forever!). God showed up! As I considered the reasons we hold our clenched fists so tightly around our measly handful of change, I had a picture of a long line of homeless people standing in front of me. Each one approached and stood there as I grilled them to determine if they were worthy of my precious coins. Most I would usher off to the right, UNDESERVING. Very few would I send to the left, DESERVING, where I would hand them a few paltry tokens and expect their undying gratitude.

Then, I saw Jesus standing there. Now I was in line – a line that stretched beyond my field of vision. I watched as each person approached him in trembling anticipation. But, it wasn’t money he was handing out, it was grace.

Most, he would ruthlessly question, “What have you done to deserve this? What will you do with it? Why should I give it to you?” – and then gesture to the right, UNDESERVING. A few would be sent to the left and showered with more grace and blessings than they could stuff in their pockets! I quickly got out of line and ran home to get a suitcase, certain I was going to the left and prepared to capture all the blessings Jesus would bestow on me. I was pumped!

Finally, I reached the front of the line and without hesitation, Jesus looked at my pathetic life and gestured to the right, UNDESERVING. Slumped over in disbelief, dragging my empty suitcase behind me, I followed the long line of the unworthy masses. (I’m a visual person – I hate when God uses “Loser Linda” parables in vivid pictures!)

Even claiming to be Christian, we live our lives in the realm of the worthy vs. the unworthy. It defines who we are, who our neighbors are, who the poor and destitute are, and we act accordingly. When we can muster just a smathering (yes, I made that word up. I like it!) of concern for others we raise our voice to the heavens in outrage, “Lord, I don’t know how you can just sit there and watch your people, especially children, suffer.”

What we fail to remember is that God came into our midst to reveal a different reality. He gives and gives abundantly. He forgives profusely, even my sorry self. Not one of us is deserving. We ask for his mercy, grace, and forgiveness, and it is ours. There are no lines to stand in. There is no reason to doubt or fear. The abundance of God’s grace is beyond measure. The riches of his generosity have no limits. But, we, like the unforgiving servant (Matthew 18:21-35), quickly forget.

Jesus came to serve. He commissioned his disciples to “feed My sheep”. In Matthew’s gospel (14:13-21) five thousand people converged on Jesus. His disciples, aware they had brought no food, insisted he send them home to feed themselves. And what was Jesus’ reply? “You feed them.” God provided…and all the people were given their fill, with food to spare.

You feed them. You do it!

The fact that there are people starving and dying every day, and have been for time eternal, is not because of poor planning on God’s part. It’s because many of us who have been given much (Luke 12:48), give little in return. That’s not how it’s supposed to work.

Listen, if God’s intent was to have a perfect human race, where no one suffered, and no one was capable of the atrocities we witness almost daily, he could have just hard-wired us to obey him completely. Problem solved. Not quite. God did not want robots. He deeply loved humankind and wanted that love returned – voluntarily.

The love God calls us to, by definition, requires us to love everyone. And loving them means caring for them, feeding them, giving generously from our abundance of blessings. And, for the love of God, stop judging them! We are Christ’s hands and feet in this broken world, they should be moving.

And lastly, I thank you, you beautiful woman on the street corner, for showing me Christ!

Never, Never, Never Give Up

I know so many people, and I’ll bet you do too, perhaps even you yourself, who just can’t believe God has a plan for them. Over the years, I have encountered people who don’t believe me when I tell them my story. “Oh, really?! God told you to do that, huh?  Right!” To be honest, I wouldn’t have believed it myself if he hadn’t gradually brought me to a place where I could trust him even if I was fearful and had no idea what he was up to. For years, there were little promptings that, in hindsight, proved to me that he was on the job (Romans 8:28). Then bigger ones that required more trust; offered way more grace than I deserved, and opened my heart more than I could have imagined.

God was always longing to grow me into the person he meant for me to be. It was me resisting; me not being present to him; me missing the mystery and majesty that surrounded me because I was just too busy to notice, or more likely, too afraid. Instead I skipped along trying to drown out his voice, “Lalalalalalalala I can’t hear you!”

We can be so enmeshed in, and blinded by, the things of this world we miss out on our whole purpose for being here. If you are going through life day-after-unremarkable-day; schlepping through the same routine to ad nauseum – STOP IT! Your life has a purpose people…you matter that much!

We are all called to holiness; called to use the gifts and talents already given us for God’s kingdom work right here – right now. It just takes awareness on our part. (I would highly recommend Anthony DeMello’s book by the same name, Awareness).

Leo Tolstoy’s  novel, “The Death of Ivan Ilyich”,  considered a masterpiece, was written just after his own “profound spiritual awakening” and conversion experience. While lying on his deathbed, Ilyich ruminated about the reality that his entire life was superficial and self-serving and he profoundly stated, “Maybe I didn’t live as I should have done!”At the end, he posited a question that Tolstoy must have pondered himself, “What if I really have been wrong in the way I’ve lived my whole life, my conscious life?” Oops, a little late buddy!

“Hell begins on the day when God grants us a clear vision of all that we might have achieved, of all the gifts which we have wasted, of all that we might have done which we did not do” Gian Carlo Menotti

It  was too late for Ilyich, but not Tolstoy. He discovered his purpose and rejected his aristocratic life to follow Jesus’ teachings – in particular – the Sermon on the Mount. Years later, his writings also had a profound impact on Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr. and countless others.

Soooooo, what are you waiting for? You must still be breathing or you wouldn’t be reading this. That’s a start. Incredibly, no matter how you lived your life to this point, it’s not too late to begin again. New beginnings are God’s specialty! He has proven that through the lives of every misfit from Moses to this ole grandma – To infinity and beyond!  God coined that phrase you know. Don’t believe me? HUMPH! Check out Ephesians 3:20, “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.”

Alrighty then, you’re pumped and ready to go, right? You’re packing your sandals and camel hair coat and checking Google Maps… for what? A sign from God?

Stop! Take a deep breath. Maybe start by sitting quietly with God and waiting.

Don’t look to anyone to give you a formula or a check list to send you on your way to sainthood. But, I will tell you this: You cannot love and serve others (which is our greatest calling) until you are able to love yourself. And you can’t love yourself by means of any of the myriad of self-help books on the market. You can only do that by growing in the knowledge that you are deeply and passionately loved first by the God who created you! And you can only do that by being in relationship with him, which requires your time.

You are his son/daughter with whom he is well-pleased (Matthew 17:5). Let that sink in. We are deeply loved sinners. It’s high time we act like it, don’t you think?

We are so used to being in a world that is loud and demanding of our attention, especially today. We even busy ourselves filling in uncomfortably quiet places. That’s how we miss God’s “still small voice” or “gentle whisper” (1 Kings 19:12). Sure, he’s good at those show-stopper whirlwinds and earthquakes and fire. Even what I have called 2×4 moments, but they didn’t leave marks like the ones my mother inflicted. Because of her I was always on guard for those “laying down the law” whacks that I expected from God too when I messed up. But, I believe he more often speaks through Spirit – whispers of pure grace.

Now, though I still mess up – and often – I know God’s response is out of love for me; his admonitions tell me that he loves me too much to let me stay stuck in the muck.

Absolutely, go to church, take the time to read scripture, and pray, But mostly...LISTEN! Geeeezzzzz, we’re so bad at listening.

Comfortable Christianity is an Oxymoron – Says God

(Originally posted April 2018)

The tomb was empty. He was gone. Mary cried out in anguish, “What have they done with him?” The response was not comforting to her:

Some mysterious guy with no name: “He’s not here”.

Mary with no filters: “Wait…What? That’s not how this is supposed to go!”

It wasn’t what the other disciples wanted to hear either. When she told them, they didn’t believe her (why would they? She was just a woman and probably hormonal at that!) Anyway, they thought the script was already written. It was a done deal, and they were already scrambling to adjust their lives accordingly.

As Christians, we should be able to relate to them. Except for one HUGE difference. We relive that scenario year after year. We are supposed to know how the story plays out. But by the way we act, I think we all have amnesia!

How often do we try to fake our response to Jesus when we’re walking our own Emmaus trail? Whining and complaining about how unfair life is. Acting like we don’t even feel him breathing down our necks.

Here we are again in the midst of an Easter season meant to draw us into a deeper relationship with God and, in turn, with our brothers and sisters. Not just the ones that are low-maintenance and easy to love.

During Lent, we are called to prayer and sacrifice to help us remember, and then act on (we always forget that part) God’s scandalous, extravagant, outrageous love by sharing it with others.

On Easter Sunday, we sing and celebrate the most important Feast Day of our faith. “Alleluia!  The Lord is risen! The Lord is risen indeed!  Alleluia!” What should that mean to us? After the glorious Resurrection of our Lord – what then? Yes, we get to eat chocolate again, but beyond that…

Sister Joan Chittister tells us, “The real proof of the Resurrection lies not in the transformation of Jesus alone but in the transformation awaiting us who accept it.”

Transformation can be powerful if we are willing to seek God in new places outside the comfort of our assigned pew on Sunday.

(tensor images)

Transformation happens when Jesus takes up residence within our often stubborn hearts and calls us to love and serve those he most loves: the outcast, the poor, and those the world rejects.

After the Resurrection, Jesus revealed himself in the most unlikely places: behind locked doors, within those tough relationships, at a fish fry on the beach, in the faces of the broken and downtrodden. He’s there.

In many ways, the poor and homeless among us feel they are also staring into an empty tomb. “Wait, if you’re not dead – where were you, Jesus, when I lost my job and my home? Where were you when my child died, and my husband left because my pain was too much to bear? Where are you now as I struggle to feed my family?”

Often, in working with the homeless, when the need seems almost overwhelming, I experience a God moment that reminds me he is in our midst, changing lives and bringing hope to the hopeless.

I will share one beautiful story with you. Since last September, I have worked with a woman, who, through no fault of her own, lost her job, then her home. When I met her, she was living in her car and felt hopeless. She would search for available jobs but had no place to take a shower and “look presentable” to go on an interview. We were able to provide her a motel room and food. She soon got another job as an Assistant Manager of a shoe store, moved into an apartment, and now has the stability we strive for in this work.

But, wait, there’s more! Experiencing the blessings of God, she now gives back. Last week, I was also blessed to witness a once-homeless woman give another homeless woman brand-new shoes and coats for her kids.

God is good, ALL THE TIME! And he’s hiding in plain sight. Go see for yourself.

Surely You Were in This Place

In 2007, Joshua Bell, a world-renowned violinist, dressed in ordinary street clothes and played his 3.5 million dollar violin at the metro station in Washington D.C.

Watch the reaction…

That’s right. There was no reaction.

Then, he went back. This time announced.

Every time I watch these videos I wonder how often we think of God and how we miss him in our very midst; how often we expect Jesus to just drop down from heaven and announce himself:

I'll be back

Just to be disappointed.

Do we realize he has been here all along?

John Phillip Newell tells us that “at the heart of the physical is the spiritual. Hidden within the mundane is the Divine.”

It is in the ordinary that God reveals himself most profoundly: In our ordinary-everyday-get-up-go-to-work-feed-the-kids-walk-the-dog-clean-the-toilets-go-to-bed life.

We can miss the magnificence of God in a beautiful sunrise – blocked by a computer screen. We miss the profound in the lonely widow sitting next to us in church, or the tears of a neighbor estranged from his family.

We miss it because we are either waiting for more or hoping for less. Less would be easier because the thought of an “almighty, glorious, brilliant, magnificent” God – right here where “we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28)” is just too much for us to believe.

But why?

It’s not like Jesus made some kind of grand entrance the first time. Right? I mean – come on – he showed up in a diaper and smelled a bit like a stable.

It's a Bird It's a plane
(I could not locate the source of this image)

If we are even willing to consider an encounter with God we’re certain it must be in a beyond super-human, out-of-body event. I actually think we prefer to believe that is the only time he exists. We want God to be predictable and keep his distance.

We want to dress up in our finest attitudes and go somewhere else, far away from our messiness, to experience him: Church, Wednesday night prayer meetings from 7:00 – 8:15, annual retreats in the mountains, revivals, and far away mission trips.

But, please God, don’t be snooping around my house when my husband comes home drunk at 1:00 am.

Don’t “show up” right in the middle of my nastiness; my jealous rants against my neighbor, or arguments with my teenage son. Also, you really shouldn’t sneak up on me when I’m watching my R-rated T.V. show!

So, we move through our ordinary life – constantly on guard – expending all our time and energy to keep God at a comfortable distance. And what do we get in return? An ordinary, mundane, routine, humdrum, tedious life.

I’ll just hang out here, thanks, waiting to die and get to heaven after barely surviving my ordinary, mundane, routine, humdrum, tedious life.

Delightful.

STOP IT!

We can spend a great deal of energy doing “things” in an effort to “get to” heaven where we will finally find happiness; finally, meet that ever-elusive God. And in the meantime? What about the ‘meantime” that we are wasting; time we will never get back, a time we could, as Martin Buber so beautifully said, “be stringing pearls for heaven”?

What do you think about when you read this scripture verse? Genesis 28:16-17, “Surely the Lord is in this place and I did not know it.”

Bidden or not

And how about Luke 17:20-21, “Once, on being asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, Jesus replied, ‘The coming of the kingdom of God is not something that can be observed, nor will people say, ‘Here it is,’ or ‘There it is,’ because the kingdom of God is in your midst.’” (My emphasis)

Ewwww…that’s terrifying, huh?

But, when you refuse to open your heart to that reality, you have no idea what you are missing! For example, I volunteer for a charitable organization. We have a hotline and people call in with many needs: some are homeless, some are so desperate that when you talk to them it’s like looking at a 1,000-piece puzzle with 800 pieces missing. Which is what happened to me last week.

For obvious reasons I can’t give you any details, but I can tell you this, his situation was that 1,000-piece puzzle. When I gathered all the information I could from him and stepped back to review it, I was literally overwhelmed with what he was dealing with, and, of course, he was too. But, I prayed that the Holy Spirit would guide us and bring the people into his life who could help him.

Within three days, all – got that? – ALL the necessary resources he needed were in place! When I told him – we both cried. We were both overwhelmed by the majesty and beauty and tender care of a mighty God who is right in our midst, right in our messiness, right in our suffering, and yes, in the ordinary.

Later that night I sat in prayer and felt God telling me, like Moses, “Remove your sandals, Sister, you are standing on Holy ground!” How often do you think you have stood on Holy ground and didn’t realize it because you were too busy looking up or looking away?