A Father's Love

My identity as Abba's child is not an abstraction or a tap dance into religiosity. It is the core truth of my existence. Living in the wisdom of accepted tenderness profoundly affects my perception of reality, the way I respond to people and their life situations. How I treat my brothers and sisters from day to day, whether they be Caucasian, African, Asian, or Hispanic; how I react to the sin- scarred wino on the street; how I respond to interruptions from people I dislike; how I deal with ordinary people in their ordinary unbelief on an ordinary day will speak the truth of whom I am more poignantly than the pro-life sticker on the bumper of my car. We are not for life simply because we are warding off death. We are sons and daughters of the Most High and maturing in tenderness to the extent that we are for others - all others - to the extent that no human flesh is strange to us, to the extent that we can touch the hand of another in love, to the extent that for us there are no "others'.

- Brennan Manning

My dad is the dad who answers the phone at Thanksgiving with: "Gooble gooble gooble! What's your favorite Thanksgiving food?" And at Christmas: "Ho ho ho! What's your favorite Christmas song?" He answers the phone in such a way regardless of who is calling. He is also the one who taught me to fix toilets, eat doughnuts and read the newspaper, listen to Paul Harvey while eating cup-o-noodles, and take me on drives to look at the Christmas lights. I guess you could say I was always my daddy's little girl.

We've had a good share of arguments, harsh words and disrespect towards each other. There have been long periods of time I have had zero desire to have a relationship with him, even times I have avoided him.

Being apart has helped me process and see more of how my parents have shaped who I have become, both negative and positive. As I have struggled through the process of forgiving him for past offenses, I have grown to appreciate and love him more. Like this past fall while remodeling the new YWAM building in Homer and the light fixtures needed installing, I knew how because he taught me. I realized how much my daddy has impacted me.

Tonight I leave on a bus for Chicago and tomorrow board a plane for Tokyo. I will not be here on Christmas day, so my parents and I celebrated Christmas early with a few presents.

I picked up a small square parcel. My mom said, "Your dad picked that one out." My response: "It'll be real good then!" I was expecting something ridiculous, like a redneck Christmas ornament or something with a horrible pun on it.

It was a necklace saying "love you to the moon and back". I thought my dad was going to cry; he couldn't make eye contact while I opened the box.

Growing up, every night my daddy tucked me into bed and we had this thing we would always say to each other, and it ended with: "Love you to the moon and back; sweet dreams, don't let the bed bugs bight." When I leave on long trips we still say it to each other before I board the plane.

It was a human glimpse of the Abba's love. My earthly daddy about cried thinking of the times we've exchanged intimate love. Our relationship is far from perfect, there are still many unhealthy aspect of it, but we are working on it.

As I grown into deeper realization of who I am in Abba Papa's eyes, as I continue to grow into the woman the Creator designed us to be, I begin to learn more of who He created others to be. In seeing who I am, I see who others are. As Papa speaks to me with respect and honor, reminding me of my worth and value, I learn more of the respect and honor my daddy deserves, how worthy and valuable he is. I understand more what it is to receive grace and forgiveness, knowing what it feels like to walk in this freedom. The deeper this understanding, the deeper the desire becomes to empower others the same.

We cannot accept love from another human being when we do not love ourselves, much less accept that God could possibly love us.

-Brennan Manning

Kansas Rest

A few days this past week were spent in Kansas. I came to Iowa seeking rest before joining the outreach team in Japan on December 26. In going to Kansas, the sole intent was rest. And I walked away, rather drove, with a greater understanding of a culture of honor.

I stayed in a house with four young men. It was an old house, as in carpeted bathrooms and wallpaper in the showers old. There were odd paintings adorning the walls, outdated wall trim and dishes in the sink. There was clothes and underwear in the bathroom, by the couch, on the table, on the stairs, by the door... The carpets were vacuumed, blankets folded on the couches and piles of ranked leaves in the front yard. The house had a realness about it, a lived in loved feeling.

Each of the young men willingly offered their rooms for me to sleep in, rearranging themselves about the house to respect my privacy. Attentive and caring. Asking how I slept and if I was hungry. They knew the love of Abba, an everyday kind of love, and walked out the same everyday kind of love.

Tuesday evening their living room filled with other Jesus lovers, a community established around the presence of God, seeking to know Abba's heart and be vessels of the Father's love. A hunger for more, not settling for what they were taught or had experienced, but a desire to taste and see more of the goodness of God. In the atmosphere of safety and trust, there was an ability to share heavy burdens or what Abba joyously was teaching us. 

Revelations 5:8,9 speaks of the prayers of the saints being bowls of incense, and the saints were singing a new song, a song found in spending time before the Throne. The house was soaked in such incense. Confessions were made, prayers for more freedom were said, and not a single prayer returned void. Where the Presence of the Lord is there is Freedom, and Freedom dwelt in the house.

In Danny Silk's book Culture of Honor, he writes, "Each believers comes to understand his or her significance in relationship to the whole Body, and the conviction begins to take hold: "I carry something that no one else carries. I must develop and release my gifts into the Church and the world and do my part in bringing Heaven to earth." Honor empowers people."

I was awoken early Friday morning by their dog. She jumped onto the bed, nudged me awake, curled up next to me and tried to share the pillow. A less than ideal situation for a person who is slowly coming around to the idea of dogs potentially being okay animals. I woke up in a room of peace. To awake in an unfamiliar place, knowing I was safe, is to know His presence is welcomed in the room.

Powerful people, empowering others to be powerful, by allowing them to be weak and real. In a house dedicated to walking in His everyday kind of love, they carry a love that will not leave others to walk alone. Their love takes others in and lifts them up. In finding rest, I found imitators of the Father's love.

As the children stepped out of the wardrobe in The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, the Professor greeted them, not shushing them or declaring their tales as silly. Rather he says, "Once a King in Narnia, always a King in Narnia. But don't go trying to use the same route twice. Indeed, don't try to get there at all. It'll happen when you're not looking for it. And don't talk too much about it even among yourselves. And don't mention it to anyone else unless you find that they've had adventures of the same sort themselves. What's that? How will you know? Oh, you'll know all right. Odd things they say - even their looks - will let the secret out. Keep your eyes open."

The culture of honor is such as the culture of Narnia. Once a King or Queen, always a King and Queen. Our identity is seen for what it is, not defined by our short comings and mishaps. And those bringing the Kingdom, they are different. They speak differently, act and look different. The words give weight and impact, their eyes search for truth and their actions carry love and value.

The invitation to intimacy with the Father, is an invitation to walk in and live out the culture of honor.

"Aslan is on the move. The Witch's magic is weakening." Sons and daughters, called by their true names, are being seen for the Beloveds they are. Their true dreams and destinies are being pulled out of them as a culture of honor so does. And the children are being brought back to the Table, filling the seats they were designed to fill.

American Villages

The word 'village' excites me. Sounds foreign, adventurous, rural, new, culture, third world. Somewhere far away. to think America has villages is bizarre for me. This past weekend I had an opportunity to join Carry The Cure and Broken Walls ministry and go to two Alaskan native villages. Here's a small peak into the weekend.

I was very concerned when I arrived at the air hanger to find no no one in the office or waiting room, I was expecting to find team there, none of whom I knew. Turns out I had my own personal flight from Soldotna to Palmer where we would collect the rest of the team.

Hooper Bay from the airplane. Not a single tree or bush. Many of the people still live sustainable lives; moose and seal hunting, berry picking, collecting greens. Half the village does not have running water in their homes. In these homes they have steam baths instead of showers, doesn't sound to bad to me! The nearest hospital and health clinic is a 45 minute flight away. No roads reach Hooper. The village is secluded from many outside influences, but the outside is also secluded from Hooper's influence. The village is rich in culture, value and honor. 

The Hooper Bay airport. As in a shed and a landing strip. Yes, in the distance there is an igloo, but not a real ice one.

The school has around 500 students k-12. All building are built on stilts because of permafrost and flooding. A high school teacher told me one day they had to let the students out early because a flood was coming and the little kids could be swept away in the waters, but the teachers had to continue working. She said it was bizarre to feel the entire school shaking and to know you are surrounded by water.

In Iowa they joke about riding our tractors to school. I only saw five different trucks here, otherwise people only drive their four wheeler and snow machines. While they do not drive dogsleds, Carol from our team told stories of racing dog sleds with her mom and Jonathan told us how his dad would drive dog sleds into different villages in Canada to share the Gospel. 

When they only have four wheelers and snow machines, this speed limit isn't to bad I suppose.

View from my high school window: corn fields and houses. I told one lady who had never been to the lower 48, what they see out their window is what Kansas looks like in the winter. This lady didn't get the Kansas Iowa rivalry...

The Yup'ik language is still spoken in Hooper and other surrounding villages. Many signs in the school are first written in English, then in Yup'ik. I walked past a couple classrooms and the teachers were teaching in Yup'ik. Several of the students I spoke with could understand Yup'ik, but not speak it.

We were in America, but we really were not in America. As the lovely Maya Angelou says, "It is time for parents to teach young people early on that in diversity there is beauty and there is strength."

There was a wrestling tournament in the gym adding many more students to the already large school. Other villages flew their students in; these students were sleeping on classroom floors like us. 

In committing to life, we are committing to all of life, the lovely and the unlovely. We commit to believing in passion and purpose even when we feel unqualified and useless. We commit to dreaming and walking through life, even when our vision becomes blurry and our foot steps are shaky. We commit to being there for each other, believing in the life, passions, purposes, and dreams of others. We commit to seeking out the life in others, knowing they contain deep beauty too. We commit to life. Ours. Others. All of it.

I was able to spend time in the home economics room. They had a few of my favorite things: high schoolers, kitchen and food. Their teacher, Eric, caught my attention the first night we were there. He had students cooking till 7 p.m. I ended up talked with him for over an hour. He shared his story and heart behind why he does what he does. He had to cut the conversation though because he had a student coming to his apartment to make cookies. With the 4 suicides in October, Eric said his job became even more important. He was able to offer a table, a home like setting, for students to come, talk, laugh and get away. Eric said the students are tired of talking about suicide, they just want life. The student in this picture, Joyce, is a senior. When she is done with school she will be taking care of her grandma. She has no dreams or passions for the future. In the village she knows what her role will is. Eric is teaching her new ways to cook old food. He recognizes most of the students will never leave. He is realistically equipping them to live and honor the culture they are born into.

Jassenda. She quickly attached herself to me, not leave my side. She helped me collect pots to use as drums during the assembly, introduced me to different teachers and friends, and helped make sure no students touched the computer and computer stand during the assembly. She was constantly touching me, whether it was holding my hand, sitting with our legs touching or wrapping my arms around her. She braided my hair during the evening concert; her legs were covered with my hair she pulled so tight! 11:30 p.m after the concert, she walked home by herself. She desired to be loved.

I was talking with this elder before we had a meeting with the tribal elders in Hooper. Her parka has four different furs, is seal skinned lined, and her mom made the kuspak outer layer. Her daughter, who is actually her granddaughter she adopted, is wearing a parka the elder's mother made 40 years ago out of several different furs. Both parkas have been worn by past relatives. The parkas contain a rich layer of history and culture bringing glory and honor to the Yup'ik ways of life.

She kept saying, "Look at the funny face I can make!"

Our wonderful team!

"Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry and narrow-mindedness. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime." -Mark Twain

The first night in Bethel, while the band was practicing, Carol and I made crepes. Carol placed a towel on her arm, loaded a platter and served the crepes (later with ice-cream and drizzled in chocolate). She joyfully, lovingly and with much fun served!

Holy Spirit showed up. My words cannot begin to touch the surface of what happened. Many men and women expressed how they  grew up being told Native drums and dancing were evil. These men and women were dancing by the end of the night. There was physical healing of stomachs, chests and kidneys. Sons and daughters had their identity reaffirmed, stepping into the roles they were designed to walk in. Freedom. Freedom is never withheld from us.

And naturally I found myself a baby to love. I connected first with his grandma, Alice, during morning service. Alice buried her son a week ago, now carrying a heavy burden. She said she was at the store and felt guilty for buying herself something. She felt guilty dancing in church because her son just died. She felt guilty thinking she could be joyful and mourn at the same time. In the evening service I saw him and Alice in the nursery. I told Alice I would hold him while she worships and listens. He ended up falling asleep. Turns out this little guy is the son of Alice's son who died, there is no mom. Alice experienced freedom. She was able to dance and smile and laugh and was healed of stomach and chest pain. This little guy was held and loved for a couple hours. And my heart was full!


Carol and I in native regalia. Carol was patient and gracious, correcting me many times when I made cultural blunders. In the villages, the elders tended to talk to her, often coming across cold to me because I was white. Carol explained, often giving her own personal testimonies, of why. There is a deep hurt within the Native community of white man coming in and disrupting culture (this does not excuse or overlook the offenses from Natives on white man). There are many things I did not understand culturally, such as allowing an Indian to speak, a four second pause does not mean they completed a thought. Many villages still follow traditional styles of living, community structure, and traditions. Carol was safe, I was able to make mistakes in front of her, experiencing gracious correction instead of criticism. It was much like international outreach. 

The band Broken Walls. Praising the Creator with native drums, sounds and rhythms. Incredible ministry, message and heart.

The plane, in five days, took off 7 times.

Five days. Lack of sleep. Inconsistent meal times. Over 100 salvation. Freezing temperatures. Crazy testimonies of Holy Spirit showing up, Abba loving as He always does, and the work of Jesus being realized in personal ways. This is the life of a missionary. Not always glamorous, fun, easy or enjoyable. The road on which we take may be full of potholes, for some missionaries literally.  We commit to going down the roads, through the sky and across the waters despite bumps, turbulence or waves. We commit to valuing the one in front of us. We may sleep on king size beds, classroom floors, bamboo mats or in hammocks. We may be eating five course meals, cafeteria food, or dirty rice. But the message we carry is one of hope. A dangerous message, a message of life. A message we commit to carrying no matter the price.

America. The brave. The beautiful. The culturally diverse.

http://carrythecure.org/

http://brokenwalls.com/

Courageous With Hope

Thailand planning is going as much as before. More details. More emails. More numbers. The excitement to again be in a third world nation daily grows. The thrill comes in thinking through navigating foreign public transportation, the aroma of spices from street food vendors, playing with barefooted Burmese refugee children, and worshiping with believers in a language I cannot understand.

Little things increase the excitement to go. One morning I was in the library with the Swiss girls. There was a Native woman softly reading a children's book out loud to herself. I saw the humble spirit of this woman as she, a grown adult, sat in the children's corner, stumbling through books, teaching herself to read, as her young daughters played, speaking perfect English to each other.

Another morning there was snow flake making. While Andrina was only interested in shredding paper with scissors, a Chinese woman across the table struggled to teach her children how to fold the paper. I showed her how to properly fold and cut the paper to form different shapes. I taught this lady something I learnt in elementary school. In a few short weeks it will be reversed roles, where I will be learning what is basic to others for the first time.

The next closest trip, however, is Wednesday for me. The director and I will be joining a ministry called Carry The Cure and go to Hooper Bay, a Yup'ik village on the west coast of Alaska. Mid October, Hooper Bay experienced four suicides in 2 weeks. Carry The Cure seeks to carry the cure to suicide into Native Alaskan villages. The cure: a message of hope.

Not only is much of Alaska physically dark, but the spiritual darkness subsiding over many villages comes in the form of rape, incest, abuse, and alcoholism. Hooper Bay has a population where 50% of people are under the age of 18. 30% of homes are female ran with no male present. 41% of the population live under the poverty line with a 37% unemployment rate. There are no known residents with a four year college graduate certificate. Physical seclusion of villages secludes victims of such offenses from leaving. They are stuck. And so the cycle perpetuates. Two ways of escaping: suicide or hope. But hope must first be brought.

The attack in Paris. A CNN article entitled 'The World's Most Dangerous Place To Be Pregnant'. Displacement of Syrian men, women and children. Airstrikes over Lybia. They are international news headlines piercing the hearts of people globally. Within each of these are individuals with testimonies.

Then there are testimonies not making news headlines, some stories not even being recognized by those closest to us. Depression. fear of failure, feelings of purposelessness, perfectionists, eating too little, eating too much, anxiety, chronic headaches, bitterness, lack of love. These thoughts, feelings, and emotions are a reality to some, each unique from the next.

We carry with us testimonies of hope. It is through the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony we overcome. Our hearts are the tablets on which hope, restoration and reconciliation are written on.

The vision for joining with Carry the Cure is to partake in anti-bullying and suicide prevention activities in Hooper Bay schools. The reality being I can do nothing unless I allow my heart to become a tablet of stone for Abba to write upon, a tablet to be known and read by all. The light we seek to shine in Hooper Bay does not dismiss the darkness. The light is to shine into the darkness, clearly illuminating God's presence the entire time. The light is to shine redemption in each story, illuminating not another haunting statistic, rather a testimony of overcoming by the Lamb.

We are not alone. We are living stories. We are living hope. Let us be courageous with the stories of hope we carry.

"You'll need coffee shops and sunsets and road trips. Airplanes and passports and new songs and old songs. But people more than anything else. You will need other people and you will need to be that other person to someone else. A living, breathing, screaming invitation to believe better things."

-Jamie Tworkowski

Names

Wednesday morning we, YWAM staff and students, went to the ocean and prayed for our brothers and sisters in China. To conclude our time of prayer, we stood in a line and shouted words towards China, words God says and desires for them: boldness in living, courage in speaking, tender in serving. It was strange, and I can only imagine what we looked like. The intercession leader kept reminding us we share the same ocean with China, the water crashing against the shores of Homer, Alaska, are the same waters crashing against the shores of Shanghai, China. The world became much smaller within that thought.

Three more weeks until DTS lecture phase is concluded. November 30, two staff and one of the students fly to Tokyo, Japan and begin outreach. I will join them December 24 for a week, then lead the team into Thailand December 31-January 21. Which means: plane tickets.

Much of this week's focus has been around finding plane tickets for reasonable prices with reasonable layovers, or reasonable locations for unreasonably long layovers. The two staff going on outreach and I sat looking for tickets for three hours Monday evening, this does not include all the hours spent the days leading up to the moment we finally bought tickets. Next day: half my tickets were cancelled.

Many moons later, two to be exact, I purchased all my tickets and was ensured I did have seats on the planes. Next comes the finalization of outreach logistics: ministry time, food, ground transportation, lodging. Overwhelming in appearance, simple in light of who we serve. While in Thailand we will work with Burmese and Karen refugees and with another ministry called Beautiful Feet, focusing on children at risk of drugs, poverty and child prostitution in Chiang Mai.

The goal: love the one for who they were created to be, not who they are told they are.

Excellent stress reliever: good company and pizookie. Do not know what a pizookie is? A pizza cookie. Cooked edges, soft gooey inside, topped with ice-cream. Look up pictures and you will be sure to want one!

Excellent stomach ache enhancer: eat half a pizookie the next day for lunch.

Another stress reliever (and miss half of work duties): hiding under counters. One of Andrina's favorite things to do is hide under the counter with me, yell people's name, hide, giggle and do it again if they do not see us, or laugh when they do, and then do it again. She is joyous.

This week I stood on the ocean shore and watched one of the DTS students dump her son's ashes into the ocean. It was incredible to watch. Her son drowned when he was four, 14 years ago. She was inspired by a new understanding of what Jesus meant when he said, "It is finished." She let go because He died to finish carrying the pain and burden for her.

Jefferson Bethke says in one of his spoken words videos, "Religion is man searching for God. Christianity is God searching for man..because when He said 'it is finished', I believe he meant it."

The search is over. I found the one my heart loves. I have found the pearl. He climbed down from the tree and walked out of the grave for me. He sought out His disciples, calling them by name, loving them amidst their doubt, fear and hiding. He still calls us, whispering to our hearts, "Come away with Me." He calls us by name, not the names surrounding our failures and success, or in description of our occupation and responsibilities. He calls us who we are. The brave. The beautiful. The loved. The passionate. The free. And so the list goes on.

"You would not have called to me unless I had been calling to you," said the Lion.

Fellowship

Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity!

Psalm 133:1

The speaker this week, Graeme, is originally form Australia, but has spent many years living in India and traveling the world. Each night while here, he made chia and invited everybody over to the apartment he was staying in. He is a highly political and intellectual man. He would share stories and pitch challenging thoughts to discuss. Respecting each expressed voice, and fearlessly challenging further.

Thursday evening Graeme planned a large meal. There was four of us in the kitchen at the time cooking, Graeme looked at me and said, "Why don't you fix yourself and I a hot drink, and we can sit down and talk." Hesitantly I put down the knife I was cutting vegetables with and went to make two cups of tea. Our help was needed in the kitchen, I was slightly confused. I brought in our tea, two chairs and we sat in the kitchen. He made himself available to any questions about cooking as needed, but was intentional. He took time to sit down and talk with me.

He took time to care.

Graeme emailed me the recipe for his chia. One of the key ingredients: good company.

Friday we did an outreach called treasure hunting. We pray, sit and listen for God. He may speak to us in song lyrics, pictures, words, anyway. We then take what God has spoken to us and "find it".

My partner, Anna, and I prayed and listened. Anna felt we were to visit our apartment neighbor. I saw a picture of a coffee shop called Two Sisters and the verse Genesis 1:5,6 speaking of God creating light. Anna laughed and said she thought Two Sisters but dismissed the thought thinking it was selfish.

We quickly drove to Two Sisters, purchased coffee and sweets, then visited our neighbor lady. Completely shocked, she answered her door, curlers still in her hair, and invited us in. She kept saying how big of a treat this is, she never buys things like this for herself. She is a single, elderly lady. Her children and grandchildren all live in the lower 48. We spent some time just talking, being light to darkness. She is a Christian, but a lonely Christian. We all prayed together before Anna and I left. It was encouraging, for all of us.

A friend and I get together every Thursday morning to study the book of 1 Samuel. We sit in a coffee shop and have fellowship. We may discuss 1 Samuel, or other things God is teaching us, or things happening in life. This past weekend we took a swim in the ocean to celebrate the first snow, made crepes and had a sleep over. The main thing: being together in fellowship.

It is the part of the story where Samwise Gamgee says, "Come, Mr. Frodo! I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you and it as well. So up you get! Come on, Mr. Frodo dear! Sam will give you a ride. Just tell him where to go, and he'll go."

As Tolkien also writes, "Where there's life there's hope, and need of vittles." Life, hope and food, best enjoyed with good company.

"And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near."

Hebrews 10:24,25

Let the Children Come

The past week has been a particularly hard week. I have been praying into going on international outreach with the current school, what it would look like to lead half of outreach and what to do after the outreach. Decisions. I struggled. I stressed and stressed and stressed. Then I stressed some more. Headaches. Stomach aches. Stress eating. It was bad. 

I spent more time watching the Swiss girls. Two of our staff were gone building a house for a recently widowed Native gal, so we had to distribute their jobs. I held Nira as she drank her bottle and fell asleep. I began to wonder if the reason Jesus wanted the little children to come to him was because they give life.

Nira "helps" me in the kitchen. She likes to be held, taste test the food and stir. She helps me write out the grocery list, as in she scribbles. Mostly she just stands on the counter being cute.

She giggles, ya know, one of those little kid giggles for no apparent reason. Her hair is turning into a mullet with soft curls. She chews on everything, crayons, sticks, fingers, books, mud, everything! She eases the tensions just by smiling. She draws attention from strangers, giving an opportunity to share the Gospel.

Andrina has begun pushing her toy stroller with her "babies" to the beach or the library. She will occasionally stop on the side of the road because her babies need their diapers changed. At the library she enjoys reading to them, sitting them on her lap so they can listen during story time and moving their arms during sign language song time. We have begun communicating in a mash up of English, Swiss-German, noises and hand gestures. I'm sure it is very interesting to observe.

But Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of Heaven."

Matthew 19:14

Courage, sacrifice, determination, commitment, toughness, heart, passion, dreams, talent, guts. It's what these little girls are made of. They remind me what it is to be simple, find joy and to laugh. As Fyodor Dostoyevsky, a Russian philosopher says, "The soul is healed by being with children." They show me how to be present, not overthinking or living to please; making decisions out of the fullness of our hearts; how to be broken, tired and cranky, knowing out of abandoning a performance based life, someone will always be there to love them. 

They remind me more than anything else how to love without any boarders.

Outreach decision: Joining the team in Japan for a week then leading three week outreach in Thailand. More updates to come.

Redeeming Warriors

Monday was Canadian Thanksgiving. After having received a snapchat from a Canadian friend wishing me the happiest of days, I declared celebration. Someone found a whole turkey in the freezer and another gal exclaimed, "We need decorations!" Monday evening, we celebrated Thanksgiving, complete with turkey hats, mashed potatoes and green bean casserole. It was silly, especially for grown adults to wear half a paper plate covered in construction paper and crayon on their head, yet everyone willingly participated.

Tuesday evening a friend and I walked the night streets handing out hot chocolate. Three people accepted, 2 hugs were given, and many declined. One man, with a distorted expression of disgust, asked, "Are you trying to poison me?!" Well, no, unless you are lactose intolerant, allergic to chocolate or have a sugar sensitivity, we are not trying to poison you. Almost every person asked, very confused, "Why are you doing this?" For me, I desired to do this because I miss meeting people on the streets the way I would in Vegas. It was an easy way to meet and pray for people. My friend had better words: "We just want to love people." Simple. Her tender heart sought to love people first and foremost because she understood what the love of Christ has done for her. She had a boldness to speak with each person, a smile revealing her joy, and bright eyes seeing the one in front of her as an opportunity to love.

Wednesday we had a good-by party for a Mission Builder (YWAM program). He showed up one day, came into our building and asked if we needed any help. And, naturally, we did not deny him. He quickly became part of the community. I am not sure how long he was here, maybe a month, but it felt as though he was always here. Him and I would often talk about organic food and gardening, working out and the impact of health on our spiritual walk; we could also often be found extra, highly processed desserts in the kitchen. He came and served: painted, cleaned, dug most of the basement, whatever we needed, he was willing. I did not hear him complain once, rather, he saw the value in each one of us at the base, and did not let a single moment go by without being intentional. Full of wisdom, love and displayed a true father's heart, he even cut the turkey for us.

Friday for community outreach we went to long term care. I held a lady's hand for a while. Ruth was viciously shaking, eyes occasionally opening, lips cracked, and soft, confused words. She kept asking me, calling me the operator, to please put her eggs away, they were sitting on the counter. I frequently reintroduce myself to her, she would then turn her head away from me and tell the empty chair on the other side of her of about the nice lady who came to speak with her. As I held her hand, gently rubbing her loose, wrinkly skin, her shaking hands calmed.

Ruth could not impart wisdom she acquired over the years, share favorite recipes, or go for walks and laugh. Occasionally she would say something relevant or in recognition of her surroundings, but mostly she was confused and incomprehensible. She could do nothing but show me the frailty of life and the future reality for many. It was awkward. I did not know what to do. I wanted to leave, turn my eye away, take my hand back, put the reality of her daily activity being a confused body restrained to a chair away, not thinking any more about her, but going on in comfortable living. I did not want to love her widowed, orphaned state. I did not want to be uncomfortable any longer. 

In 1 Samuel 22, David is hiding from Saul who is looking to kill him. As David is hiding in a cave, his family and all those in distress, debt and bitter in soul come and join him (22:2), about 400 in all. With these 400 outcast men, David forms an army to fight for the Lord's will. This is the redeeming heart of the Father: calling all those in distress, debt and bitter in soul, come, fight for Me. Looking past the physical, He seeks to redeem us back to our warrior state. 

We hosted many extra people Monday and Tuesday who wanted to here the DTS lecture speaker. In Canadian Thanksgiving, loving people with hot chocolate, Bart's going away party and sitting with people who may not have remembered us five minutes after we left, we are seeking to honor and respect them for the warrior God made them to be. Each one of us has the characteristics of the outcast. We are the outcast, created to furiously love the one, redeemed to boldly fight for the Kingdom to come to earth, and chosen to tenderly hold the hands of our brothers and sisters.

"The gospel is absurd and the life of Jesus is meaningless unless we believe that He lived, died, and rose again with but one purpose in mind: to make brand-new creation. Not to make people with better morals but to create a community of prophets and professional lovers, men and women who would surrender to the mystery of the fire of the Spirit that burns within, who would live in ever greater fidelity to the omnipresent Word of God, who would enter into the center of it all, the very heart and mystery of Christ, into the center of the flame that consumes, purifies, and sets everything aglow with peace, joy, boldness, and extravagant, furious love. This, my friend, is what it really means to be a Christian."

-Brennan Manning