The Wonder

One of my college professors gave me the book One Word That Will Change Your Life by Jon Gordon, Dan Britton and Jimmy Page. The basis of the book is to choose a word to provide simplicity and implement self-discipline into one's life. They encourage the word to be chosen in accordance to the new year, new season of life or the like, then formulate an action plan to instill the word into the six dimensions of life: mental, physical, emotional, relational, spiritual and financial. The day before I left for Vegas I asked God for a word, He provided the word WONDER.

And Grace calls outs: you are not just a disillusioned old man who may die soon, a middle-aged woman stuck in a job and desperately wanting out, a young person feeling the fire in the belly begin to grow cold. You may be insecure, inadequate, mistaken, or potbellied. Death, panic, depression, and disillusionment may be near you. But you are not just that. You are accepted. Never confuse your perception of yourself with the mystery that you really are accepted. -Brennan Manning

The wonder of gracious acceptance has been prevalent the past week. Last week, in the mornings I helped with VBS hosted by Grace City, a local church YWAM is heavily involved with. I was with the 4s and 5s, a young enough age they do not really want to leave their parents, but old enough they loosen up quickly. There was one boy in particular, Ryan, he was not too lenient of his mom leaving. During VBS, I was the one to replace his mom. He held my hand through everything, including dance time. He sat on my lap during snacks, crafts and lessons. He accepted me. 

Much like the days working at Victory Bible Camps, VBS was a place where being calm, collective and mature was not something the kids desired in a leader. Working with kids, they want crazy, frazzled and real. We worked with a generation hungry for authenticity and vulnerability. Television, billboards and music have all been tempered, edited and altered. When kids are acting out, feel "too much" and do not preform to set standards in all aspects of life, we medicate them back to "normal". When the feelings of death, panic, depression and disillusionment begin to flood a person, we label them, outcast them and walk circles around them. 

These kids are just learning to express themselves. One boy always had to go to the bathroom during lesson time. When asked if he could hold it, he would loudly exclaim, "I am going to start peeing my pants right now!" This boy is learning to express himself. The unfiltered speech of kids is a reminder of the beauty in feeling. 

When I was in college I attended a class called Children With Exceptionalities, a education class. The ideal tactic is to ask the student what they are thinking, why they are feeling a certain way and what is going on with them. A teacher is to listen to his/her student, then proceed with how to reinforce the rules. Within this tactic, the teacher is recognizing each student has unique and individual personalities, there is no set rule to discipline or a solid "go-to" for correction.

Grace works the same way. Abba reveals His grace to His child according to their unique design. 

In our neighborhood there are a plethora of homeless and prostitutes. To mask the hurting, to make myself feel better, I will hand out water. I will look them in the eye, smile, give them some water and walk away, telling myself I am doing the best I can, I am doing all I can do. I go back into the air conditioned base, not knowing what it is to share a concrete sleeping space with strangers, cockroaches and trash. And when the emotion flares up inside me, when the desire to do something more burns within, I sooth the fire, telling myself they chose this, they did it to themselves, they can do something about it, it is their own fault. I sympathize, allowing myself to feel for a short while, then stop, sinking back into ignorance.

The wonder of Abba overcomes this slobbering mess of a life. In His love there is no sympathy, no empathy, no simple acknowledgment of the suffering. The wonder of Abba is the way He sits on the burning concrete next to me, the wonder of grace is the way Abba pulls us to Him, allowing us to rest in His lap. He chooses us in our bedraggled, beat-up, burnt out life. He asks us what we are thinking, how we are feeling, and what we are going through. 

And suddenly, what St. John of the Cross called the dark night of the soul, does not seem so scary any more. Suddenly, the wonder of Abba makes us unafraid to feel. The wonder of Abba makes it okay for me to be misunderstood because He was first misunderstood, it makes it okay to cry because He is weeping alongside me, it is okay feel because He feels so immeasurably more. The wonder of Abba allows me to recognize I am insecure, inadequate, mistaken and potbellied, and I am accepted.

For ragamuffins, God's name is Mercy. We see our darkness as a prized possession because it drives us into the heart of God. Without mercy our darkness would plunge us into despair - and for some, self-destruction. We are so poor that even our poverty is not our own: It belongs to the mysterium tremendum of a loving God. In prayer we drink the dregs of this poverty. In a sudden and luminous moment we realize that we are being accosted by Mercy and embraced even before we lay hold of ourselves. - Brennan Manning

To the Ragamuffins Alike

The church is not a Sunday morning, Wednesday evening event. The church is community. It is what gathers on Monday mornings for prayer and Thursday evening for fellowship dinners. It is what meets in coffee shops, street corners and living rooms. The church is what goes out of their way to reach others. The church does not have an agenda, but they have a Guide. The church may have a building to gather in, but the church is mobile, traveling by foot, trains, bicycles and backs of donkeys. 

The church is full of Samuels, dedicated from birth to the building of the Kingdom. There are the Sauls to Pauls, the tax collectors willing to drop everything to follow, the Priscillas and Aquilas always having opened doors, the Tabithas of a town where others cannot imagine life without her. The church is the people.

I arrived in Vegas six days ago ecstatic to be home. Sunday evening I attended the church I attended during my DTS this past fall. Grace City, the church, is filled with the ragamuffins of Vegas. It is a place of freedom, a small room filled with life. I was touched during greeting time, as in physically touched; forget the informal handshakes and table talk, these people hug you, and I mean the real deal Grandma style hugs that are deep, full and intimate. Strangers who desire to bridge the gap into family. 

It was in worship I was reminded again of what worship is. I was in awe of the freedom to jump and dance again, to clap and sing loudly again, unashamed with the fact I cannot carry a tune in a bucket. There were those speaking in tongues, some with their eyes open, some with their eyes closed. Some were sitting, some still talking with others and some were on their knees. Freedom. It is for freedom Christ came, lived, died, and lives again. Freedom.

Monday morning I attended a prayer group with Grace City church. The church currently has 10 interns living at the YWAM Las Vegas base for the summer and a team of seven from Indiana who were here for the week, also living at the YWAM base. There was a room full of people on a Monday morning gathered to lift their voices and intercede on behalf of strangers. We were praising God for things He had done this week, including salvation from a block party this past Saturday and salvation in church Sunday evening. We were praising God for healing and encouraging encounters with strangers. We were praying for current events in the new, such as ISIS. Then we prayed for those we want to give up on, throw the towel in on and deem them unchangeable, starting with those in our families. We, as a body of brothers and sisters, gathered around those who had siblings in need of prayer, and then around those who needed prayer for parents or spouses. 

There was freedom to be broken and vulnerable. There was no place for judgement, pride and condemnation because the space was imbued with the presence of God. In the presence of God there is only room for love, grace and redemption.

One of my favorite authors, Shane Claiborne, said in his book Irresistible Revolution, “And I think that's what our world is desperately in need of - lovers, people who are building deep, genuine relationships with fellow stragglers along the way, and who actually know the faces of the people behind the issues they are concerned about.” 

Through the past six days I have been reminded of what it is to be a straggler in need of prayer, and to be the straggler being crumbled under the immense grace of God in a room full of fellow stragglers. To the ragamuffins, the stragglers, the mess-ups and the outcasts, we are the church, we are the body, unified under the cross, celebrating in the freedom of the resurrection.